Midsomer Murders (1997–…): Season 9, Episode 7 - Death in Chorus - full transcript

[Fireworks explode]

They're not mourning
the deceased

in a big way.

[Guests laugh]

[Rings doorbell]

Mr. Barnaby.

Man: Who is it?

It's the police.

What's the matter, someone
complaining about the noise?

No, we're not here
about that, sir.

I was going to say,
it's not easy



to turn down
the fireworks.

I'm here
to arrest your wife.

Anne Woodrow,
I'm arresting you

for the murder of...

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
just a minute.

Let me finish,
please, sir.

In connection with

the murder of
Frances Trevelyan.

You do not have to
say anything, but it

may harm your defense
if you do not mention

anything you later
rely on in court.

Anything you do say

may be given
in evidence.

Do you understand?



Yes, I...
I understand.

You'll
have to come down

to the station
with us now, please.

Girl: I don't see
why I can't go.

She was my mother, too.

Girl: You're too young.

[Sigh]
It's not fair.

Actually, maybe you
should think a bit less

about yourself.

Excuse me? And a bit more
about Dad.

Ed, listen.

Daddy, please,
can I come with you?

We can all think
of other things

we'd prefer to be
doing today.

Unfortunately,
life's not like that.

Sometimes we have to
do things

that we don't want
to do.

[Rock-and-roll plays]

I'll met you there,
babe.

We can't be seen
arriving together.

And dress conservative.
You know that suit you got?

Yeah, that's the one.

Just one reptile
from the local rag

and a wannabe paparazzo...
that's it.

[Laughs]

Mr. Woodrow,
Causton Advertiser.

My wife says
she's innocent,

and that's
good enough for me.

That's all
I have to say.

Well, can you just
tell us, please,

how it's affected your...

relationship?

Good morning,
Andrew.

Your big day, today,
isn't it?

Oh, yes,
my big day.

It's all in there.

Right, we're off now.
Hope it goes okay.

I'm going to make
an enemy or two,

whatever happens.

See you later.

Come on, Danny.

Bye, Danny.

Woman: Take a seat.

So what are we talking
about, an accomplice?

It's possible.

There's a lot
she kept back from us,

a lot we don't know.

May well be someone
should be up there

with her,
in the dock.

Just play it
by ear, then.

Yes.

Anything strange...
someone making

a lot of eye contact
with her,

anyone who a bit shifty,
you know, nervous,

make a note.

And you'd better
keep an eye

on the victim's husband,
John Trevelyan.

He's denied any
relationship with Annie,

but I'm not sure
I believe him, there.

Got a rock-solid alibi,
of course.

She definitely had
the hots for him, though.

Yeah, that's
the general consensus.

Oh, please, he was the husband
of my old school friend.

Annie, we need to be able
to trust each other.

I've told you what I
was doing there that night.

If you can't explain it
to the court, then I will.

And when they suggest that
you're a deluded,

obsessive stalker
who'd stop at nothing,

including the murder
of an old school friend,

to get what you wanted?

Don't you...

It's not true.

I think, maybe,
taking the stand

is not such a good idea.

Mr. Woodrow!

[Shutters clicking]

Nice car.

Yes, that's the husband
of the accused,

Lance Woodrow.

Man:
Mr. Woodrow!

Jones: Wasn't there
a scandal

about him
and some girl band?

Barnaby: Yes,
several.

Mr. Woodrow,
Causton Advertiser.

Would you please spare us
a moment, please?

You get around.

Could you tell us,
how has your marriage been

affected by your wife's
arrest, Mr. Woodrow?

I'm behind my wife
100%.

Now, please,
could I ask you

to respect our privacy
at this difficult time?

What, exactly,
was the relationship

between your wife
and Mrs. Trevelyan,

Mr. Woodrow?

I just learned something
from one of

the witness-support
volunteers.

It may be nothing, but
he phoned Mrs. Beverley

to confirm the time
when he's picking her up.

There was no reply.

She may have
just nipped out,

but she's
an important witness.

Yes, she is... well, look,
give it a couple hours,

and if you hear nothing by then,
give us a call.

Okay.
You know she's moved?

Where did she go?

The sheltered housing
up Causton Road.

I'm sure she'll
turn up, anyway.

Okay, thank you.
Look, I've got to rush...

picking Cully up
from the station.

See anything interesting,
give us a bell.

Sir.

Ah, let me
introduce you.

Mr. Barnaby,
good morning.
Mr. Trevelyan.

Can I introduce my daughters,
Sophie and Ed?

Yes, yes,
I remember.

And this is
my mother, Gwen.

How do you do?
How do you do?

Well, I hope it won't be
too hard for you all.

They're getting rid
of me for the day.

You're too young.

It's not because
I'm too young.

It's because I don't believe
Annie murdered Mum,

and they're afraid
I'll say so.

Happy now?

Come along, darling.

John:
I'd better get on.

Bye, Mr. Barnaby.

I'm not actually sure
what value there is

in your husband
as a witness.

Well, I'll leave it
up to you.

Well, he wanted me to let
you know that, although

you won't actually see him
until he testifies in court,

he is out there
in the lobby, nearby.

Everything okay?
Fine.

I'm not sure if you'll
be called today,

but if you need
anything, just call

the witness-support
volunteer, okay?

Thank you.

[Door creaking]

All right,
Mrs. Woodrow.

[Bell tolling]

Bye, Mr. Barnaby.

It's because I don't believe
Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing]
Mum, Mum.

[Sirens wailing]

Have you told her?

No, I haven't
told her anything.

But I think
she knows.

Child: What is it,
what's happened?!

Inside,
in the kitchen.
Daddy!

But I think
she knows.

[Sirens wailing]

It's not because
I'm too young.

It's because I don't believe
Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing]
Mum, Mum, Mum.

The next train to arrive
on platform 2

will be the 10:12,
calling at all stations

to Midsomer Malham.

Dad?

You all right?

Where did you
come from?

I got an early train
and a coffee.

I was expecting
to see Mum.

Yes... your grandmother
has broken her arm.

She'll be all right,
but she obviously can't

do the housework herself,
so your mum's gone up there

for a couple days
to help them out.

You know what your
granddad's like... useless.

How did it happen?

She was up a ladder,
pruning an apple tree.

Man:
You are charged that,

on the 17th of February last,
you did murder

Frances Kay Trevelyan

at her home
in Midsomer Malham.

How do you plead,
guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

[Spectators murmur]

Woman: The Crown
will prove,

beyond any reasonable doubt,
that the defendant

you see before you,
in the dock,

sitting there so meekly,
killed...

that is to say,
battered to death...

her old school friend,

Frances Trevelyan,

leaving her
in a pool of blood

on the floor
of her family home.

The reason?

Because she wanted
Frances's husband,

and Frances,
her old school friend,

stood in her way.

But not only did
the defendant kill her friend,

thus depriving John
of his loving wife

and their two young daughters,
Sophie and Ed,

of their loving mother,

she then went on
to compound the crime

with sickening hypocrisy.

Under the cloak
of a supposed friendship,

she moved in on
her target, John,

to comfort him in his grief.

Day after day,

with little hugs

and physical gestures
of support,

gradually sinking
her claws deeper

into the shattered,
vulnerable man.

Her intention?

To manipulate him
into her own arms.

Barnaby:
It arrives about 6:00,

so I shouldn't
be late.

Oh, your mother's
left us

one of her casseroles.

Ah.

Great.

Yeah. Eh, there's
always the Taj Mahal.

[Whispering]
She'll never know.

[Mobile rings]
Yeah.

Has she not?

Okay, I'll check that out.
Thank you very much.

Got to round up
a witness.

Would you believe,
a love-you-and-leave-you.

Is that
the Annie Woodrow case?

Yes, it is.

So she didn't change
her plea at the last minute?

No.
No, she did not.

Do you remember that?

Yeah, you always said
you thought

she'd plead guilty,
eventually.

See ya.

See ya, Dad.

[Doorbell rings]

You will see the house
of Mrs. Joan Beverley

is positioned between

the Trevelyans' home

and the home of the defendant,
Annie Woodrow.

You will also see
that the Trevelyans' house,

where the victim died,

is positioned at the end

of a cul-de-sac.

Anyone seen going
up that road

could reasonably be
expected to be going

to the Trevelyans' home.

Yeah, she seemed fine
when I saw her earlier.

Mrs. Beverley!

It's cold.

Got any idea
where she would be?

No.

[Beeping]

Come on, I suppose we
should get something to eat.

Sir, they've just
adjourned for lunch.

I've just seen someone who
seems a little questionable.

Lots of eye contact
with the defendant.

It may be nothing,
but...

Okay, I'm coming back
there, anyway.

I'll see you there.

Ben Jones, isn't it?

CID.

That's right.

Mark Thomas,
Causton Advertiser.

I was wondering, is there
any particular reason

why you were
in court today?

Seems a bit unusual.
Cut and dried case.

Just keeping an eye
on things... excuse me.

Hi, a Coke, please.

Hi.

We were starting
to get worried.

Terribly sorry.

The witness-support
volunteer.

Don't you remember?
It was all arranged.

I know it was mentioned.
Well, you're here now.

I'm so sorry.
Oh, Mr. Barnaby.

You made it.

You haven't been looking
for me as well?

Oh, what a nuisance
I am.

And my cushion, Jamie.

Don't forget the cushion.

Lower back, the coccyx.

If you'll pardon
my French.

Doesn't look like she'll
be called today, anyway.

[Ring]
Yes.

Jones: Sir, I've just had
a few words

with this woman
I mentioned.

I think she might be
worth talking to.

Where are you now?

Right... we managed to get
the star witness here, then.

Right, on my way.

Thomas:
I'm just wondering

why Causton CID's
all over the place.

Ben Jones was in
the gallery all morning.

Seems a bit odd,
don't you think?

Probably just making sure
the witnesses turn up.

Man: The thing is,
we have to weigh out

just how much
any evidence

is actually going to
benefit our case.

I'm testifying...
end of story.

Hi, there.

Jamie.

Talk to you later.

I didn't mean
to interrupt.

I just wanted to say
that I'm sorry about...

It's just that I gave
a statement to the police

and they're insisting
that I testify.

Eh, you're a witness.
It's your job.

[Rock plays]

Another Coke, please.

You're a copper,
aren't you?

I thought so.
Where are you stationed?

Must be Causton.

Are you connected
to the case?

Yeah.

Then you must know
DCI Barnaby.

And so do I...

Talk of the devil.

Prudence Plunkett.

How very nice
to see you.

I thought I might
bump into you.

Will you have
a drink?

I will, indeed, yes.

Small scotch, please.

So this must be
your sergeant?

It's "Constable."

Not for too long,
I'd have thought.

We were just having
a wee chat

about Annie Woodrow.

Ah, do you have a professional
involvement with the case?

No, no... I offered
to be a character witness,

but they dithered,
rather,

so I'm just here to show
a bit of support.

Jones, Pru here is

a clinical psychiatrist,

usually
the expert witness.

Oh...
Of course.

You know Annie Woodrow
very well, don't you?

Through Elder Aides.
She was a helper.

And, of course, I knew
Frances from the committee.

Do you know
the Trevelyan children?

Yes.

I think Ed's
probably handled

the grieving process
better than her sister,

but it's,

well, it's a terrible
thing for any child.

Why do you ask?

Um... I saw young Ed today,
with the family,

and she told me that
she didn't believe

that Annie
had killed her mum.

Something I meant
to ask you...

did you know
that Annie Woodrow

was planning
to move away,

back to London,
before it all happened?

No, I didn't
know that.

Did she say why?

She didn't have to...
it was obvious.

She wanted to avoid
seeing John.

She told me
about her plans

just a few days before
Frances's murder.

How she was going to
give up her involvement

in the charity because
she'd be spending more time

in their London home.

I didn't think it was
particularly significant

at the time, but now,
I think it may have been.

Whatever,
it looks like

Annie's really
up against it now,

largely due to your
evidence-gathering skills.

Ah.

Were you always 100% sure
of Annie's guilt?

Yes, sure.

Is that a past tense
I hear?

It's lovely
to see you, Tom.

And you.

Nice to meet you,
too.

What was that about?

The whole case
against Annie Woodrow

supports the idea that
she was suffering

from some unrequited-
love obsession.

Why wouldn't she have
planned to move away?

Avoid all
the heartache.

Moving away to avoid
"all the heartache"

is the act of a rational
person, Jones,

not that of
an obsessive delusional.

Anyway,

it probably means
nothing.

See you tomorrow.

Girl: Bye!

Woman: Say hello
to your mum, Eddie.

Hello!
Hello!

[Sirens wail]

Daddy?

Dad! What are you doing?
What is it, what's happened?

Inside, in the kitchen.
To the left.

Daddy!

Plunkett: Annie Woodrow
was planning to move away.

Were you always 100% sure
of Annie's guilt?

Is that a past tense
I hear?

It's because I don't believe
Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing]
Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum.

I think the plant
needs some water.

I'll see if I can find
some, darling.

John Trevelyan.

Will you be
all right?

Hold the book
in your right hand

and read from the card,
please.

I swear,
by almighty God,

that the evidence I shall give
shall be the truth,

the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth.

[Rock plays]

Prosecutor: Mr. Trevelyan,
could you tell us

what you were doing
before you arrived home

that evening.

I'd been working
in the office.

It had gone a bit late.

A meeting with my partner
and accountants,

just routine.

And when the meeting
was over,

you drove home alone?

That's right.

Can you take us
through, please,

what happened
when you went

into the house?

I walked through
the front door.

I'd parked the car
in the garage.

The lights were on,
as normal.

[Voice on radio]

There was a radio playing
in the kitchen.

So I just walked on
through and...

[Voices on radio]

Frances!

I felt for a pulse,
but I knew she was dead.

The injuries to her head
were just...

There were no signs
of life?

No.

Now, moving on
to your relationship

with the defendant,

can you describe it
for us, please?

We were friends.

Nothing more?

Good friends,
I thought.

Quite, and can you
tell us, were you aware

of the defendant being
attracted to you,

romantically
or sexually?

I suppose
I wasn't sure.

But you think
she may have been?

Miss Flint.

Your Honor.

You weren't sure

she was attracted
to you?

Ahem.

I think we understand.

No further questions.

No questions.

You don't wish to
cross-examine the witness,

Mr. Bramwell?

No, Your Honor,
we don't.

[Rock plays]

Looks like they're
adjourning.

So I won't be
testifying today.

Let's go home.

And your
chicken korma.

Dad, what are we
going to do

with this... stew?

Oh, Eric is very keen
on those.

Eric is the Labrador
next door.

So, any word on how things
are coming along at court?

Oh, it's early days yet,
but young Jones

is keeping an eye
on things for me.

Really, so you think
there might be more

to it, then, than you
originally thought?

It was never a straightforward
case, was it?

But, yes, actually.

I was having a chat with
a clinical psychiatrist

who knows Annie Woodrow
quite well.

Pru Plunkett.
Did you ever meet her?

No, I don't think so.

Yeah, well,
she told me something

about Annie Woodrow
which doesn't square with

how Annie should have behaved
if she were guilty.

You don't think
she could be innocent?

Well, all the evidence
is still against her.

Dad, um...
do you think

I could get a seat
in the gallery?

I'm sure
you could, yes.

Yes, it'd be nice to know
what you think of her.

God.

I slipped
on a grape.

What on earth
are you doing there?

Oh, thanks.

[Both laughing]

Improved the taste.

[Guests laughing]

[Door opens]
Gwen: John?

Are you all right?

Not really, no.

No, of course
you're not.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's okay, Mum.

We just have to
get through it somehow.

[Doorbell rings]

[Ring]

I'm sorry, babe,
I just had to see you.

I couldn't help myself,
I just couldn't.

[Both moaning]

[Contented sigh]

God, I love
that outfit.

Very executive.

I want you to take something
down, Miss Jones.

[Giggling,
squealing]

I don't suppose
there was any post?

Constable, you will be
the first to hear.

I have to say,

I don't think Annie Woodrow
is coming across

as the most obviously
guilty person.

Yes, well, she's good
at lying, Jones.

She's done
a lot of that.

Still, there's...

there's always
the little questions.

Look.

That's the phone,
by the body.

The last number dialed
from that phone was

to Mrs. Beverley.

The witness?

The witness...
she received a call

round about the time
of the murder.

Mrs. Beverley told us
that Frances Trevelyan,

the victim,
was round at her house

earlier that day,
trying to persuade her

to use Elder Aides'
charity services.

So that could be what
this call was all about.

You think there was
more to it.

Mrs. Beverley said whoever
was on the end of the line

put the phone down
without speaking.

So it may well be
that the killer

was the one
who disconnected it.

No prints?

No prints.

It was about
10 past 7:00,

and I was just
letting my cat in

through the sitting
room window

when the security light
came on.

It was Annie Woodrow.

Flint:
And in what direction

was she going?

She was going towards
the Trevelyans' house.

How did she seem
to you?

Was she walking casually?
Could you tell her mood?

She seemed to be
in a bit of a hurry.

Can you remember

what she was wearing?

Well, I remember
she wasn't wearing

a coat or gloves...
because it was

rather cold at the time,
that's why I remember.

And can you now tell us
about the phone call

that you received
later that evening?

Whoever it was
didn't say anything,

they just put
the phone down.

And what time
did this happen?

It was about
half past 7:00.

And did you do

a 1471?

Well, yes, I did,
because I find

those sort of calls
a little unnerving.

It was a local number.

I recognized it...
the Trevelyans.

I thought she was phoning
about her visit earlier.

I didn't really want
to discuss it.

I mean, what is
a drop-in center?

I didn't like the sound
of it one bit.

One shouldn't be
ungrateful but,

to be honest, I preferred
Annie's approach.

She used to offer
to do the shopping for me

or give me a lift
to the hairdresser's.

But not intrusive,
ever.

Nice woman, I thought,
friendly.

It's quite shocking to think
she's a murderess.

Do you wear glasses,
Mrs. Beverley?

Occasionally.

Occasionally.

See, I notice you're not
wearing them today.

That is correct.

[Laughter]
Well, we're not talking about

reading glasses...
Your optician issued you

glasses because
your sight's defective,

but you only occasionally
wear them.

That's right, isn't it?

I was wearing them
that night.

Are you sure?

I'd been watching
television

and I was alone.

I'm less vain
when I'm on my own.

[Spectators laugh]

I didn't know
the Trevelyans very well.

I certainly wasn't aware
of any enemies.

I'm sure I told you that
at the time.

Bit late for doubts,
isn't it, Tom?

Yes.
Yes, it is.

There's no good reason,
really,

it's just things one or two
people have said to me.

Pru Plunkett,
in particular.

Pru?

Yeah... of course,
it won't count as evidence,

I mean, it's just
her opinion, but...

She's no fool.

No, she's not.

Look, George, I've been
through all my case notes,

and I can't find anyone
with anything

approaching a motive,
apart from Annie.

No one.

My mother was too nice
to say anything,

but you could tell
she hated it.

Your mother
was aware of

the defendant's obsession
with your father?

Yeah, she only ever
came round

when my dad was there.

It was obvious.

In what way,
obvious?

She was all, sort of,

shy and little-girly,
her big, dummy eyes,

acting like
some stupid teenager.

It was creepy.

And then when she used to

come round all the time,
after my mum was dead,

pretending that
she was...

Miss Trevelyan.

I appreciate

that this is
very difficult for you,

but, in a court of law,
witnesses are asked...

[Chair shifts]

Not to express
their opinions,

simply to describe
what they've observed.

All right?

[Door opens]

[Rock plays]

Jamie Cramner.

Come on,
let's get you home.

No, Daddy.

I want to watch.

Flint: Mr. Cramner,

you knew both the defendant,
Annie Woodrow,

and the victim,
Frances Trevelyan.

That's right.
I'm an antiques dealer.

I supplied some
of the furniture

for Lance and Annie
Woodrow's home.

And the victim,
Frances Trevelyan?

I've known the Trevelyans
for a lot of years.

Socially,
through the village.

And were you aware
of any... atmosphere,

any tension,

between the defendant
and the Trevelyans

prior to
Frances Trevelyan's death?

I'm not sure I'd say
"tension," exactly.

What would you say?

Did you have
any impression

that Annie Woodrow
was physically attracted

to John Trevelyan?

Yes.

[Spectators murmur]

Would you say
it was obvious?

I noticed it.

And was
Frances Trevelyan aware

of Annie Woodrow's feelings
towards her husband?

We didn't actually
discuss it.

I remember she tried
to laugh it off once.

Something about Annie's

schoolgirl crush
on her husband.

Do you think
she found it amusing?

Not really, no.

No,

I don't imagine
she did.

This was
her old school friend,

showing an obvious
sexual interest

in her husband.

She would have been
sickened.

Can we leave that
for the jury to decide?

Your Honor.

Do you know if she
confronted Annie about it,

or had plans to?

As I say,
we didn't discuss it.

Thank you,
Mr. Cramner.

Do you know, it's really
difficult to tell.

When people are deluded,
they can often think

that they're actually
telling the truth,

so the normal signs
just don't apply.

[Whispering]
It's Mum.

Dad thinks he's got

the wrong person
in the dock.

But, seriously,
is everything okay?

I am serious.

You know, Dad thought

she'd change her plea
to guilty

before
the case came to trial?

Which case is this?

Oh, Mum, it's
the Annie Woodrow case.

You know, the wife
of the pop impresario.

And your dad doesn't
think she's guilty now?

Well, he spoke to this

clinical psychiatrist,
colleague friend of his,

who seems to have caused
some doubt.

Pru Plunkett?

Oh, the ex-hippie
woman.

[Snicker]
Yes, well, Dad seems

to think she knows what
she's talking about.

Is he worried
about it?

I don't know
about that, but...

[Whispering]
He's giving evidence

tomorrow, so it's bound
to be a bit awkward.

I mean, he says
it's just his job

to collect the evidence
and then present the facts.

It's the jury's job
to reach a verdict.

But I think he feels
responsible.

Mummy was quite
a difficult woman to love,

wasn't she, Daddy?

Where's this come from?

She was, though,
wasn't she?

Relationships have

their ups and downs.

But we all loved Mummy
very much.

Okay?

Meaning... eat your supper
and shut up.

Why did you say
you think Annie's innocent?

I like her.

Shows how much you know
about anything.

Flint: The Crown
will prove,

beyond any reasonable doubt...

killed... that is to say,
battered to death...

She wanted Frances' husband...
John Trevelyan.

Beverley: It was
a local number.

I recognized it.

The Trevelyans.

Flint: She moved in on
her target.

Frances Trevelyan...

Sophie: My mother was too nice
to say anything,

but you could tell
she hated it.

Flint: Leaving her
in a pool of blood.

Beverley: It was
Annie Woodrow.

Flint: Annie Woodrow.

Annie: We were friends.

John: Friends.
Good friends, I thought.

Flint: Romantically,
sexually?

[Shuddering]

[Knocks softly]

I...

I was thinking,
Daddy.

What?

I need to be
at the trial.

All right?
I thought I'd go tomorrow.

You don't have to come.

No, it's all right.
I'll take you.

I think maybe
I should be there as well.

Thank you.

Annie: I have no idea
what you're talking about.

Sophie: Yes, you do!
You know perfectly well.

Look, I understand
that you think your dad

is wonderful
and godlike...

I mean, he's your father,
it's natural but,

not everyone
in the real world

thinks the same.

I have no interest
in him whatsoever.

Why would I be
interested

in a dull, provincial
corn merchant,

for God's sake?

Excuse me.

Hi, George.

Any developments?

No, nothing yet.

Hey, anything
happening?

Not really, sir.

The antiques dealer,

Jamie Cramner,
showed up.

Bit odd,
hanging around

after you've given
evidence.

He's a bit of a womanizer,
from what I've heard.

There's no chance
he could have been involved?

What, with Frances
or Annie?

No, he's got
an alibi.

Can't work out that
Lance Woodrow, either.

Has he got an alibi?

Has he.

He had the entire girl band
Hidden Agenda

recording in his home studio
all that evening.

Do you know where
Pru Plunkett is?

I think
she's outside.

Barnaby: Pru.

Hello there, Tom.

I have a question
for you.

Fire away.

Why did Annie
go on lying?

An impossible situation...
a combination of

embarrassment
and sensitivity.

Court, rise.

Barnaby: You know, the Court
should hear your thoughts.

Funnily enough,
the defense

has finally asked
if I'd be a witness.

Have they?
That's good.

Do you know the judge
in this case?

No, I don't.

Well, I do, I know
him quite well.

He's not overly keen
on psychiatrists

and expert evidence,

and he does like
his expert witnesses

to show the Court
due deference.

You hear me?

Loud and clear.

The body was
on the kitchen floor.

As you can see.

The cause of death
was confirmed

as being the obvious,
severe head injuries,

which were inflicted
by the cast-iron milk pan.

Time of death?

7:30 P.M.,
give or take half an hour.

All right,
Mr. Cramner?

I'm not very good
at the gory details.

[Chuckle]
Who is?

Did Mrs. Beverley
get home all right?

My lift wasn't needed
in the end.

She used one of
the witness-support people.

Wouldn't have been
a problem.

Her sheltered
housing estate is

just around the corner
from her old house.

You know, I live there now.
Great place.

Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby.

Flint: Can you
explain to us

why your suspicions first
fell on Annie Woodrow?

Ah, yes... when I asked
Annie Woodrow

where she'd been
at the time of the murder,

she told me she'd been
at home all that evening.

But when I interviewed
Mrs. Beverley,

she told me that

she'd seen the defendant
heading towards

the Trevelyans' house
shortly before

the time
we later established was

the time of
Mrs. Trevelyan's death.

The defendant lied.

And when
I confronted her with

this apparent contradiction,
she told me...

I'm sorry,
I'd forgotten.

She had forgotten
about the visit

to the Trevelyans'
because

she'd been drinking
that evening

and her memory
wasn't clear.

Flint: Did the defendant
mention anything

about the drinking when you
first interviewed her?

No.
No, she had not.

So she changed
her story.

Yes.

And can you tell us
what the defendant

told you had happened

in her second version
of events?

Yes, she said she'd rung
the doorbell...

it was an old-fashioned
hand-pull arrangement...

but that there
had been no reply

and so she went
back home again.

And did she...
during this version...

explain why she went
to the Trevelyans' house?

Yes, she said
she wanted to invite

the family to lunch
on the following Sunday.

Did she explain why
she hadn't phoned?

Yes, she said she wanted
to invite them in person.

Oh.

I see.

Now,

in previous testimony,
which we've heard,

Mrs. Beverley described
what she saw

the defendant wearing
on that evening

on her way towards
the Trevelyans' house.

Now, can you tell us why
that was important

to the investigation?

Yes... I would have
expected to find

Annie Woodrow's
fingerprints

on the bell-pull handle,
but I didn't.

The only other people
to go into the house

after she was there

were the victim's husband...
that's John Trevelyan...

and the youngest
daughter, Ed,

and they both had keys
to enter the house.

They wouldn't have
used the bell.

Now, Mrs. Woodrow
was insistent

that she was wearing
gloves at the time.

That's her explanation
of why her fingerprints

weren't found
at the scene.

However, Mrs. Beverley
is equally insistent

that the defendant
was wearing

neither coat nor gloves

when she saw her going

towards
the Trevelyans' house.

Do you regard
Mrs. Beverley

as a credible witness?

Yes, I do.

So either the defendant
did not ring the doorbell

or the fingerprints
were wiped off.

I think it's unlikely
that the fingerprints

were wiped off.

Other fingerprints,
from people who had used

the bell-pull previously,
and had been eliminated

from the inquiry,
they were intact.

And can you tell us, now,
about the footprints

that were found
in the flower bed?

Yes, I can.

We found a fresh pair
of footprints

in the small flower bed
beneath the kitchen window.

These were subsequently
matched to a pair of shoes

belonging to the defendant,
Mrs. Woodrow.

And had the defendant
mentioned anything earlier

about walking through
the flower bed?

No.
No, she hadn't.

And did she offer
any explanation

for the presence
of the footprints?

She told me she'd
forgotten about it.

Again, because of
the alcohol.

And that when there
had been no reply,

she had looked
through the kitchen window

while standing
in the flower bed.

She could see
the lights were on.

She wanted to find out
if anyone was there.

She said she
couldn't see anyone.

And this was,
uh, what,

her third version
of events?

Well, she hadn't
mentioned it before.

And did you offer
any other

possible version
of events to her?

Yes... I suggested that
she was checking to see

if Frances Trevelyan
was alone

before entering
through the back door,

which she knew
was always left open.

She denied
that suggestion.

[Spectators murmuring]

Tell us,
Chief Inspector,

did it ever occur to you
that the defendant

could have had gloves
in her pocket

and put them on after
she'd walked past

Mrs. Beverley's house?

When she started to feel
the cold, for example.

Mrs. Beverley's
eyewitness statement

was that the defendant

was wearing jeans,
no coat.

That means the defendant
would have had to

put her gloves
into her jeans pocket,

which I found
a bit unlikely.

Why?

Well, they were
designer jeans...

tight fit,
small pockets.

It also occurred to me that,
if she'd had the foresight

to take gloves,
why not a coat or jacket?

Isn't it possible that
Mrs. Beverley was mistaken

in what she saw,
and the defendant was,

in fact, wearing
a light jacket,

as she said
in her statement?

Mrs. Beverley is not
a young woman.

Her sight is failing,
she's not always

in the habit of wearing
her prescription glasses,

as we've heard,
it was nighttime.

Is she really what you
would normally describe

as a credible witness?

Ah... I evaluate
witnesses individually.

I found her credible.

I see.

Moving on, now,

to the question of whether
there was anything

to suggest that the defendant
had actually been inside

the Trevelyans' house
that evening.

Now, the fact that
there was forensic evidence

that she'd been
to the house previously

is not incriminating
because she admits

that she'd been
to the house

several times
in the weeks prior

to the night in question,
would you agree?

Yes.

So was there

any evidence whatsoever,
forensic or otherwise,

that the defendant
had actually been inside

the Trevelyans' house
that evening?

A "yes" or "no"
will do.

No.

Sorry? No.

No.

So, no evidence
that the defendant

had actually been
at the scene of the crime

at the time
it took place.

It went well,
didn't it?

Well, we may have raised
one or two doubts,

but we still have to
account for

your frequent changes
of mind.

It's very damning
evidence.

I told you, I'd been
drinking... I told you.

I think we should have
cross-examined John Trevelyan.

Maybe we should try
to recall him.

You're not putting John on
the stand again... don't do it.

I have to say, Annie,
that your consistent denial

that you ever felt anything
for John Trevelyan

is making you look dishonest,
it's not helping.

Nothing happened.

How many more
times...

I want to call
Dr. Plunkett as a witness.

Pru?

Yes, I think
she can help.

And don't tie my hands
on this one, Annie.

Will you please
let me do my job?

Lance Woodrow.

[Rock plays]

[Whispering]
You're on.

[Whispers]

Bramwell: Mr. Woodrow,
what were your movements

that evening,
what were you doing?

I was involved
in a recording session

at my home with
the popular music group

Hidden Agenda,
who I manage.

Whoo!

The session went on

from early afternoon

'til after midnight.

Bramwell:
And you have

a professional recording
studio in your home?

That's correct.

Did you see your wife

in the earlier part
of that evening?

Yes, I did.

Round about 7:00.

She seemed
her normal self.

Did she mention

asking the Trevelyans
over for lunch

on the following Sunday?

Yes.

I was just getting some
drinks from the fridge.

How well do you know
your wife, Mr. Woodrow?

I know her
very well.

So you'd know,
for instance,

when your wife
had been drinking.

Well...

I don't know what
you mean by "drinking."

Well, enough so that
she'd completely forget

what she'd been doing,
for instance.

Well, I suppose so.
Yes.

Hm, I imagine you would.

It sounds pretty drunk,
doesn't it?

Now, you said earlier that,
when you saw your wife,

at about 7:00
that evening,

that " she seemed
her normal self."

That's right.

"Her normal self."

Not that she was
so drunk that

she'd be unable to remember
things that happened.

[Spectators murmuring]

Apparently, his father
was an Oxford man.

Flint: Come in.

Sam.

Tom, come in.

Thank you.

What can I do
for you?

It's going rather well,
I think.

Yes.
Yes, it is.

Lance Woodrow's
assistant...

Felicity, I think
her name is...

did I see her having
a word with your solicitor?

Yes, you did.

I think she's
quite a clever girl.

Has her eye on being
the next Mrs. Woodrow,

is my guess.

And did she suggest that
you ask those questions,

you know, about whether
Lance would have noticed

if his wife had been
drinking or not?

Yeah, she did.

Ah.

They say it's
a no-fault divorce.

But if she's
a convicted murderer,

it's bound to have
an effect.

Well, she can't claim
any expenses

in Holloway,
can she?

[Laughs]
That's right.

[Doorbell rings]

Not today,
thank you.

[Ring]

That's Barnaby.

We're going to have to
answer it.

[Ring]

Sorry, babe.

[Ring, ring]

What?

Try to look
businesslike.

Mr. Barnaby.

I'm afraid Mr. Woodrow
is a little bit busy

at the moment, so...

Uh, Miss Winter,
you're dripping.

I had
a little shower.

Anyway, it's you we actually
wanted to speak to.

May we?
[Wipes feet]

Thank you.

Me?

Wh-why?

Just a couple of questions
we wanted to...

We wanted to know,
Felicity,

why do you think
Lance Woodrow asked you

to suggest to
the prosecution lawyers

a line of questioning
about his wife's drinking?

I... I...

don't know.

So he did ask you
to do it, then?

We'd like to talk to
Mr. Woodrow now, please.

So much for
the supportive husband.

Look, Jones,
this table...

I've seen one
like this before,

if not this one,
one exactly like it.

Chief Inspector.

Mr. Woodrow.

Ah, did Felicity mention
why we're here?

To be honest,

I feel a bit awkward
about the whole thing.

So why did you encourage
the prosecution

to ask about
your wife's drinking?

Well, it breaks my heart
to say this but,

I've begun to have doubts
about my wife's innocence.

What can I do,
you know?

Oh, so you're saying

it was in the interests
of justice?

Yes, well, thank you.
Thank you for that.

On a completely
different subject...

this table, I couldn't
help but notice it.

It's a beautiful
piece, isn't it?

You have a good eye,
Chief Inspector.

Where did you get it?

Jamie Cramner.
Serious quality.

1870...

1875.

1875.

Yeah, carved walnut.
Cost a bit.

I bet it did.

I know where I've seen
that table before.

And the vases.

[Car alarm chirps]

[Banging on door]

Mrs. Beverley!

Who is it?!

Tom Barnaby and DC Jones.
May we come in?

Oh, yes.
Yes, of course.

Come in. Come in,
I'm in the bedroom.

[Whispering]
It hadn't registered before.

The antiques she had
in her old house...

they've gone.

[Knocking]

Oh, ah, I've had a bit of
a funny twinge.

The doctor said
I have to stay in bed.

Angina.

The old Pearly Gates are
on the horizon, I'm afraid.

But then, I never thought
I'd get this far.

What can I do for you?

I'm sorry if this
appears an odd question,

but you know
that lovely furniture

you had
at the old house?

May I ask
what happened to it?

Jamie handled all that.

Oh, that was nice
of him.

And he got you the other
stuff, did he?

That's right... It's much more
practical here, much easier.

May I ask what the financial
arrangements were?

He didn't charge me
a thing.

He was very helpful
with everything...

the house sale,
everything.

Oh, he handled the house
sale as well, did he?

Oh, I'm not really supposed
to talk about it... yes.

Yes, he did mention that
when he heard you wanted

to move, he spoke to you
about buying it, yes.

Well, that's right.
Ooh, cut out the middle man.

So you didn't use
an estate agent at all?

We avoided all that
agent-fee nonsense.

He got evaluation

from a friend of his
who is in the business.

Oh, Jamie's the son
of my oldest friends.

There's no problem there.

Now,

you won't mention this
to anyone?

No, of course not,
not if you don't want us to.

The capital appreciation tax
and the multiple stamp

duty issues...
avoided it all.

Um, what did he value
the house at?

?310,000.

We bought it

for ?85,000.

Did you, by any chance,
mention any of this

to Frances Trevelyan?

Well, yes, I did.

But she promised not
to mention it to anyone else.

How do you know?

Can you remember when,
exactly,

you mentioned it to her,
to Mrs. Trevelyan?

It must have been...

Oh, it was on the last
occasion I saw her.

Ah, would you excuse us
for a couple of minutes?

[Whispering]
That's 150 grand less

than what it
was actually worth.

At least that.

Then there's the furniture
and the antiques

on top of that.

That lady's been
seriously robbed.

[Whispering]
Bit of coincidence,

Frances Trevelyan hearing
about it the day she died.

She must have been
appalled by it.

And she'd definitely
confront Jamie about it.

Do you think
she asked him

over to her house
that evening?

Well, if she did,
and he went,

it means that Jamie's
alibi is false.

And that his old friend
Mark Thomas

was lying for him.

That reporter,
he was asking me

what I was doing
in court.

I thought he was
sniffing about for a story.

Maybe he
was getting twitchy.

You don't think he was
an accomplice?

That's unlikely...
I don't think

that the murder
was premeditated.

More likely, he was
helping out an old friend.

I interviewed them both
after Annie was in custody.

She was the prime suspect,
everybody knew that.

I was just looking
for additional evidence

to bring against her.

On the other hand,

Mark Thomas could know
exactly what happened

and be deliberately
protecting his mate.

Maybe he was involved
in the scam.

Maybe he was getting
a share of the profits.

We don't want to reveal
everything we know.

If he's that involved
with Jamie.

It's a chance worth tipping
a toe in water.

Come on.

Mrs. Beverley,

Did Frances Trevelyan

ever say anything
about discussing

the house sale
with Jamie Cramner?

You're suggesting Jamie
was diddling me.

Mrs. Beverley,
those things you mentioned

Jamie talking about...
capital appreciation tax,

multiple stamp duties...

it's gobbledygook.

Oh, that's your considered
opinion, is it, Sergeant?

"Constable."

Oh.

Look, there was
no good reason

for you not to talk
about the price.

He just didn't want
anyone telling you

how much
it was really worth.

[Crying]
But his parents are
my closest friends.

It's all right,
Mrs. Beverley.

Let's leave it.

Why are you asking
if Frances spoke to him?

We're not sure.

You know, he asked me not
to mention it again

when he gave me
a lift to court.

[Sigh]
Why would he do that?

[Wipes feet]

Mr. Barnaby.

I'm sorry to bother you.
Got a minute?

I'm a bit busy,
actually.

The court case.

Oh, yes, the court,
of course.

I just want
to double-check something.

You know, I've got to
follow things up.

We've heard a rumor
that Jamie Cramner

might have had
a bit of a falling out

with Frances Trevelyan

over, um, something.

Mean anything?

Falling out?

Yeah, just before
she died.

Did you know anything
about that?

I'm sorry, does this have
something to do with me,

or are you suggesting that
it's newsworthy in some way?

Because I don't
understand.

So you didn't hear
anything about that?

No.

Oh, okay.
Well, thank you.

Sorry to bother you.
Carry on.

[Opens and closes
door]

[Whispering]
[Babbling]

Mark Thomas.

Come here, Joe.
Come on, darling.

Oh, good boy.
[Kiss]

Mark.

Well, he's not
telling me anything,

for whatever reason.

Ah, but he's talking
to somebody.

How's Mrs. B?

She wanted whiskey,

but I persuaded her
to go for tea.

She wants to talk
to you.

Manage to get hold
of the estate agent?

Very interesting
news there.

She can give
a very accurate estimate

because they did a survey
on the house

shortly after Jamie
had taken possession.

He ordered some
renovations done.

She reckons at least
140 grand more.

And there's
another thing...

Jamie's putting the house
back on the market

and he wants the agent
to value it.

Woman: I gave him his coat.
I saw him out.

But Frances and the girls
are still here

and he's definitely gone.

He was in rather
a funny mood, actually.

He said something about

as a "dull,
provincial corn merchant, "

he felt rather
out of place.

Well, somebody
must have said something.

Ah, Lance.

I have no interest
in him whatsoever.

Why would I be
interested in a dull,

provincial corn merchant,
for God's sake?

[Crying]

No, I'm concerned about this,
about Mrs. Beverley.

He may try
to get to her.

She was safe as long as
she was a vital witness

against Annie...
now, she's a liability.

This place is
totally insecure.

We're going to
have to persuade her

to move somewhere else...
safe house,

nursing home,
somewhere like that.

Should be interesting.

Out of the question.

It's just temporary.
I can talk to the doctor.

I'm going nowhere.

Mr. Barnaby.

Do you really believe Jamie
is the murderer?

Well, how are you
going to expose him?

Well, that's why
I want to move you.

Because I think it'll take
a little time.

Why, if you're sure
it's him?

Mrs. Beverley,
charming a trusting lady

out of lots of money may be
thoroughly reprehensible

and dishonest, but it is
not an offense, as such.

And as yet,
we have no solid evidence

linking him
to the murder.

As I say,
it'll take time.

But you don't have time.

Annie Woodrow is about to be
convicted for the murder.

How do you intend
to get the evidence?

Do you really think
there's a chance

Jamie might try
to do me in?

Oh, don't you worry about
that, Mrs. Beverley.

I'll warn him off.

Maybe you shouldn't.

If he were caught trying
to murder me,

you might be able to get
a confession out of him.

Oh, now, I think that's
really out of the question.

I think that's my decision,
isn't it?

If I decide to stay here,

there's nothing
you can do about it.

We seem to be
skirting around

a major obstacle here...

if we're going to get him
for your attempted murder,

he's going to have to
try to kill you.

Yes, but you'll stop him.

One of you can hide
in the cupboard

and jump out
at the last minute.

Yes, but there are
lots of ways in which

he might try to kill you,
Mrs. Beverley,

and we might not be able
to stop him in time.

I mean, a knife,
a bang over the head.

I really do think...

Oh, no, he'll definitely
want to smother me.

Look, I'm expected

to kick the bucket
at any moment

and Jamie knows that.

If he smothers me,

it would look like
natural causes.

He'd have every chance
of getting away with it.

So why stab me,
for heaven's sake?

[Scoff]
Of course he won't.

And when he tries
to smother me,

there'll be plenty of time
to stop him.

But if Jones is hiding
in the cupboard,

how will he know when
to jump out and save you?

Ah, could you open

that top drawer for me
a moment, please?

That's the one.

Now, can you pass me

that can thing
with the horn?

Mm-hmm.

Thank you.

[Horn blares]

That'll be the sign.

It's my evidence
that's put Annie in the dock.

And your handiwork.

We have to do something.

This is not
a good idea.

Of course, he may need
a little jolt

to spur him into action...
nothing too obvious.

What had you
in mind?

You're up for it,
then?

Is that
Jamie Cramner?

Yes, that's him.

[Mobile rings]

Is that Jamie's phone?

It is.

He's on his way out.

I hope this works.

Hello.

I've just had a call
from Mrs. Beverley.

She said that she'd heard
that we were moving

and she was asking what
the asking price was.

Jamie?

Uh, well,
what did you tell her?

Well, I didn't tell her
anything, I just said that

it was early days and that
you were dealing with it.

She wants you
to call her.

What's going on, Jamie?

Clerk: Court, rise.

[Gavel raps]

Are you
going to fit?

Bramwell: Dr. Plunkett,

in your capacity as
a clinical psychiatrist,

would you describe
the defendant

as an obsessive,
delusional character?

No... I would say
she is, essentially,

a levelheaded woman
who was perhaps

not totally satisfied
with her life.

But then, of course,
that's true of many of us.

Had you ever seen
Annie Woodrow

in the company
of John Trevelyan?

On several occasions.

Would you say she was
attracted to John Trevelyan?

Very much so.

It was just one of those
unfortunate things.

Both being married,
and he being the husband

of her old school friend,
they both must have felt that

any intimate relationship
between them would be doomed.

Are you saying that,
in your opinion,

John Trevelyan was
attracted to Annie as well?

I'm sorry, relevance?

Your Honor, I'm trying
to establish

whether this was an obsessive

stalking situation or an
unfortunate mutual attraction.

Go on.

Dr. Plunkett?

There's no question
in my mind

that it was
a mutual attraction.

There was an occasion
I remember

at a charity fundraiser,
a dinner dance,

when Annie and John were
sitting opposite each other

and I happened to observe
at close hand

what was going on.

They both tried
desperately

to disguise
what they were feeling,

but there was
so much electricity

in the air between them,
they could hardly breathe,

let alone talk.

And Annie and John are both
normally such chatty people.

Before Frances's death,
anyway.

You think they were
in love with each other?

Embryonically.

But what you're saying is
that you wouldn't have expected

either of them
to have acted on it

because they valued
their marital vows,

they were concerned about
the fallout with John's family,

and the hurt it would cause
their partners.

Yes.

The frame of mind
and motives

you're ascribing
to the defendant

are those
of a very moral person.

It doesn't sound like
the sort of person

who would be capable
of the kind of

premeditated murder
Annie has been accused of.

I would agree.

But there's a problem with
your analysis, isn't there?

This so-called
moral person

has changed her story
several times.

I mean, let's not mince
words... she has lied.

Can you explain

how someone who's
persistently lied

under police questioning
can be described

as a moral person?

Oh! Speculation.
No, Your Honor,

I'm simply asking
a clinical psychiatrist,

as an expert witness,
to give her opinion

as to why the defendant
did not tell the truth.

It is relevant

to the jury's
impression

of guilt or otherwise.

Dr. Plunkett,
how much weight

do you think
we should give

to the opinion of
a clinical psychiatrist

in a matter
such as this?

I don't think it's for me
to say, Your Honor.

But it's more
educated guesswork

than complex
psychiatric theory.

Just old-fashioned
common sense based

on my knowledge
of the situation.

Tread carefully.

Bramwell:
Why do you think

the defendant lied
to the police?

I think Annie lied
because the truth

was just too embarrassing
for her.

She mentioned to me,
when last I saw her,

about a week before
Frances's death, she was

going to be spending
more time in London.

She said she wouldn't be
able to commit

so much time
to the charity in future.

But it was clear she'd be
giving it up entirely.

I was surprised because

I knew how fulfilling
Annie found the work.

I suspected it was
because of

how she felt
about John Trevelyan

and how difficult she found
seeing him so often.

I asked her
if that was the case.

She denied it.

She said she had no feeling
for him whatsoever.

In fact, I remember

she was actually
quite rude about him...

the classic
defense mechanism

of the totally
and utterly smitten.

I think he left the building.
May be on his way.

Jones: Thanks, sir.

Stand by, everyone.

Bramwell:
Why do you think

Annie Woodrow went to
the Trevelyans' that evening?

I think she wanted

to say something to John
before she left.

Maybe something had
happened between them.

I don't know.

But I think she was hoping
to find him alone.

The garage doors
were probably shut,

so she couldn't see
whose cars were there.

She saw a kitchen
light was on

and that there
was movement inside.

She tried to see
who it was

through the gap
in the curtains...

hence the footprints.

My guess is,
she saw that Frances

was in on her own,
which was not

what Annie wanted,
so she went home.

If Annie had told
the police

she wanted to talk
to John on his own,

it might,
however unjustly,

have implied
his involvement

in some kind of affair.

And I don't think
she could bear that.

Anything happening?

Officer: Negative.

Ahem, tell me, Dr. Plunkett,
have you ever been

proved wrong
in your analysis

of a problem
or human behavior?

Of course.

So you are fallible.

We can't take
what you say as gospel.

As I made clear,
what I described

is just an opinion.

Well, and we've heard
other accounts

of the defendant's
behavior,

and very different
interpretations.

Were they all wrong?

I've tried to be
professionally objective,

but I accept there is
always some bias.

The question is,
how much?

I'd like to turn, now,
to your imaginative story

of what might have
happened that evening.

Man: I see
white male approaching.

A version that not even
the defendant

has come up with...
but then, who knows?

Perhaps she'll change
her story yet again.

But courts of law
deal with evidence,

not fanciful
speculation invented

by friends
of the accused.

So can you tell the court
if there is

one single piece of evidence,
solid evidence,

to back up your
extraordinary version

of events?

Who's there?
Who is it?

[Footsteps]

Oh, why didn't you say
who you were?

You gave me
a terrible shock.

You wanted to see me?

You're selling
the house.

We're exploring
various possibilities.

Jamie, I know what
the asking price is.

It's a lot more than
you paid me.

It's gone up in value.

I found out exactly what
a fair price would have been

for it
10 months ago.

You've shortchanged me
by ? 140,000.

You were perfectly happy
with the price at the time.

Well, I trusted you.

? 140,000,
that's what I want.

You'd be in serious trouble
if I went to the police.

And if you don't
give it to me,

that's exactly what
I'll do.

I don't know.

You try to help
someone out,

and this where
it gets you.

You agreed a price,
and that's it,

done and dusted.

You want to tell
the police

or anyone else,
go ahead.

Do your worst.

Jamie!

What's happening?

Officer: Target
is sitting in his car.

What's he doing?

He's just
sitting there.

Hang on.

He's getting out
of the car again.

He's coming back
towards the house.

Cutting radio.
Okay, this is it.

[Front door opens
and closes]

[Footsteps]

[Horn blares]

[Cupboard doors clattering,
Jones shouting]

Man: Come on, Jones,
we've got him!

[Mobile rings]

Yes.

Oh.
Good God, is he?

No, I appreciate that.
I'll pass that on.

Thank you.

[Ring]

Yes.

Thank God for that.

I thought Constable Jones
took his time

getting out
of the cupboard.

But I think
I'll survive.

It's actually
Sergeant Jones now.

Just got the news.

Congratulations.

Well done, Sergeant.

You know, if that
little operation

hadn't gone right,

you could have kissed
goodbye to Sergeant

and they'd have retired me
on medical grounds.

We'll be back to the station
in about half an hour.

With, we hope,
another one.

Just bang him up
until I get there, okay?

What do you think
happened that evening?

Well, my guess is that
Jamie Cramner arrived

at the Trevelyans' house
just after Annie had left.

Frances let him in.

She was expecting him.

I think that she wanted
to give him an ultimatum.

Either he canceled
the arrangement

with Mrs. Beverley
and the house was sold

through a neutral
estate agent,

or she'd tell the whole
world what he'd been up to.

[Whispering]
Give this to the clerk.

Barnaby: I think
she phoned Mrs. Beverley

because she wanted
to see him cancel

the arrangement there
and then, but instead...

[Dialing]

Barnaby: He killed her.

Mrs. Beverley: Who's there?
Who is it?

Barnaby: And then calmly
disconnected the phone.

Judge: It appears that
someone else

has now confessed to the murder
of Frances Trevelyan.

In the circumstances,
the prosecution have decided

to drop all charges
against the defendant.

Mrs. Woodrow,

you are free to go.

[Spectators murmuring]

[Gavel pounds]

Barnaby: My guess is,

he thought he was
nothing more than just

helping his old mate
out of a sticky situation.

Well, he'll learn
differently now.

[Cheering and applause]

There she is.

Oh, wow.

Fantastic!

Didn't I tell you all
she was innocent?

This is a great day
for justice.

Come on, babe, I got
a car around the corner.

I think you and I both know
that won't be happening.

Of course!

You want to celebrate
with your legal team.

I understand.
Of course.

Call me, yeah?

Nice work!

Nice work!

[Reporters clamoring]

So what do you
do now?

I don't really know.

I'm so sorry.

You have nothing
to be sorry about.

Oh, I think I do.

You were very good
to me after...

Then, when you
needed help...

You had your family
to think about,

and everything else.

Could we talk?

Please, I just...

I'd just like
to try and...

Okay.

Woman:
Big smile!

Nice one, Dad.

Oh, thank you.

Cut it a bit fine,
of course.

I thought you were
really impressive, too.

Oh, it wouldn't have
made any difference

without
your dad's input.

Oh, not too sure
about that.

Now, look, I've got to
get going.

Got some processing
to do.

You all right
for getting home?

Oh, yeah, sure.
Don't worry about me, Dad.

And thank you.
Thank you for everything.

Bye, Tom.

[Sigh]
Love's a funny thing.

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