10x02 - Smile For The Camera

[bunniefuu]

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss

♪ When my baby kisses me?

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why does a love kiss

♪ Stay in my memory? ♪

TELEPHONE RINGS

Hello?

Hello?

Hello? LINE GOES DEAD

- Same thing? - Yep.

They can't all be wrong numbers.

It's every night now for two weeks.

It's getting beyond a joke.

We've gotta try and work out who it is, Mike.

MICHAEL: Hmm. I'm going to.

Ah, good. Payday.

I mean, keeping on phoning day after day,

what's he hoping to achieve?

Or she.

Well, you never know.

It might be a she, desperate to hear the sound of my voice.

Sweetheart, what are you looking for?

My diary. I don't know where I left it.

All this phone business, it's not fair on you.

It's not fair on either of us.

Yes, but, in my case, it goes with the job.

"Superintendent to all section sergeants."

No.

"Renovation of filing systems."

Oh!

"Renovation of filing systems."

Which means, gentlemen, that we go through all files

with a fine-tooth comb,

and dispose of all paperwork over ten years old.

- Every file? - Every file.

Even the stuff in the loft?

The what?

Old stationery records, Sarge.

Boxes of them. Sergeant Blaketon never threw anything away... Ow!

Get them down.

Well done, Phil!

Excuse me, Mrs Smythe?

I'm very sorry about the colonel.

I just don't know where to turn.

SHE SOBS

He was in the Royal Horse a*tillery, you see.

Yeah.

Poor dear Herbert.

Don't cry, Mrs Smythe.

I mean, I'll ask Mr Scripps, of course,

but he'll never be able to do it.

What, you mean the funeral?

Yes.

He wanted horses, and a g*n carriage.

Horses and a...

That's no problem!

I'm sure... I'm sure that Mr Scripps could do that.

He could?

Oh, yeah. Well, he's got a carriage.

Mr Greengrass, he knows all about the horses.

Oh, Anthony. Isn't that a relief?

David says Mr Scripps can do it.

Mother, it's no good listening to him.

We'll have to ask Scripps himself.

Oh, but, David is a friend of Mr Scripps.

Oh, it's all right.

I'll get him to come around and see you right away, then.

HE GRUNTS

ALFRED: So, erm, these calls started when?

Oh, about, two weeks ago.

Well, do you think it could've been somebody

that you nicked around the time?

Not necessarily.

BOX THUDS

ALFRED: Watch it, Phil!

I mean, it could be someone from ages ago. That's the problem.

Where do you begin?

What are you two standing about for? Chop, chop!

Sarge, these funny calls Mike's been getting...

Get on with it, Ventress. I want this job finished ASAP.

And we all get strange phone calls, Bradley.

It's an occupational hazard.

DAVID: Mr Greengrass!

Mr Greengrass, I think I got us a job!

Please don't say no, because I've told her yes,

and she's... look, she's so upset, I don't wanna disappoint her.

I said, "Mr Scripps, he'll help."

Have you stopped?

Why don't you take a deep breath and start again?

Because I don't know what the devil you're talking about.

Colonel Smythe's funeral.

Oh. He's turned his toes up at last, has he?

Yeah, this morning. While I was doing the gardening.

Anyway, Mrs Smythe, she said she wants one of them

horse and carriages for the funeral. I said that we'd do it.

We? Who's "we"?

Well, you. And me, and Mr Scripps.

What, you've told her that we can supply a carriage?

Yeah. From that farm clearance job, up at Moor Top.

What, that thing?

I wouldn't be seen dead in that, let alone Colonel Smythe!

- We can do it up. - No, we can't,

because it don't belong to us.

We left it there when we did the clearance, didn't we?

It belongs to that Eames bloke who's moved in.

I've told you, engage your brain before you open your mouth!

But I promised, I said we can do it!

Well, you'll just have to go and un-promise

and tell her we can't!

Go on, on your...

Go on.

Claude says what?

Well, if you go and see Mrs Smythe,

he'll lend us his horse and carriage.

He hasn't got a horse and carriage.

Yes, he has. He's told me all about it.

Anyway, you've gotta go and see Mrs Smythe,

and, er, I said you'd go straight round.

So, what about the phone calls? Did you find out anything?

Er, look, erm, I'll just, er...

Nothing at all?

No, I had a quick look at the crime sheets, but, er...

- But no possibles? - Not yet.

- Do you fancy a sandwich? - Mike...

- What? - Spit it out.

HE SIGHS OK.

Look, I think someone's been hanging around the house.

- I beg your pardon? - CASHIER: Next, please.

Someone's been what?

Well, I don't know.

I found a couple of film wrappers in the garden.

- Thanks. - What are you saying?

Someone's been taking photographs of us?

Look, I don't know. It's, it's probably nothing.

The same person that's been making the phone calls?

I'll have a quick word with Craddock

when he gets back, see what he thinks.

My father left very precise funeral instructions, Mr Scripps,

which I should imagine are out of the question

for a small firm of undertakers.

Oh, but, Anthony, David assured me...

Mother, just let Mr Scripps read.

He was a military man, you see.

He always loved the pomp and circumstance.

Well, he certainly knew what he wanted.

Yes, well, we shouldn't have troubled you.

I can always try one of the larger firms in Whitby.

No, no, no. It may be possible.

Of course, we couldn't provide the g*n carriage,

as such, and, er,

the military escort,

wouldn't you need the Army for that sort of thing?

It wouldn't come cheap.

Money is no object, Mr Scripps,

as long as my husband gets what he wanted.

Yes, all right, Mother.

It'd be better if you left Mr Scripps and me

to discuss the details.

I do so hope you'll do it.

My husband always liked to use the little local man,

if at all possible.

CLAUDE: Where have you been? To see the bank manager?

Very funny!

Hey, you must have been somewhere, dressed like that.

Not starting courting again, have you?

Been to the Smythes, as instructed.

David! I don't know what's come over him.

How many times do I have to tell you?

I am not the least bit interested in Colonel Smythe's flamin' funeral!

He's only told 'em we can fix them up with a carriage.

I bet they'd expect us to do it for next to nothing, anyway.

Yes, you're absolutely right. They've only offered us £.

CLAUDE: What?

David, leave that.

I think I might wanna use your brawn.

- See you later. - Good night.

SHUTTER CLICKS

SHUTTER CLICKS

SHUTTER CLICKS

- All along, I assumed it was me. - All right.

It never crossed my mind it was Jackie they were after.

"I am waiting." "I am waiting." I wonder what that means?

No idea.

You definitely don't recognise the writing?

No.

- What about boyfriends? - Oh, come on.

Ex-boyfriends. Someone you jilted, perhaps?

It's nothing like that!

Mike, please. I can speak for myself.

Obviously, there were boyfriends that didn't work out.

But no one who'd want to pester you?

No.

Bradley, get onto the court, will you?

Get the clerk to drop a list of all recent cases

where your wife acted as solicitor.

- What, now, Sarge? - Yes.

But, Sarge...

Mrs Bradley, I'm a man of the world.

I'm not here to judge you. I just want to establish the facts.

So, let's be straight with each other, shall we?

Anything you say won't go any further, I promise you that.

What exactly are you implying?

That, nine times out of ten, in cases like this,

the culprit is generally someone you know.

A disgruntled lover, perhaps. So, is there one?

No.

Pity. It would explain things.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you.

Perhaps you left your diary somewhere by mistake?

What do you mean?

Somewhere you didn't want your husband to know about.

In which case, I'd hardly be here, would I?

True.

Unless the man was becoming a nuisance

and your husband was in danger of finding out.

You are way off target, Sergeant Craddock.

Mike and I are very happy.

And this business and the phone calls

are a complete mystery to both of us.

I thought I was here to be helped.

I got that wrong, though, didn't I?

DOOR OPENS

Yes. One second.

- See you later. - Jackie?

What's going on?

Nothing that I know of, Bradley.

As far as I'm concerned, this is not a police matter.

Excuse me?

It's a domestic. A simple domestic. I suggest you talk to your wife.

BRAKES SQUEALING

Get the tarpaulin off, David. Get these tyres out of the way.

- What are you doing? - I was supposed to do that out?

HE BLOWS

Aha! Mr Eames!

Better late than never, eh?

We should've taken this months ago,

when we cleared the rest of the stuff, but...

we'll soon have it out of your way.

Ah, hold on a minute. You can't just take it.

It's a valuable antique.

- What? - Yes, I'm afraid so.

If you want it, you're gonna have to pay for it.

We weren't gonna charge owt.

I would do it as a sort of neighbourly gesture.

Ah, well, I'm very sorry.

Er, well, how... how much do you want for it?

£.

HE SNORTS Pigs might!

I'll... I'll give you a fiver.

£.

Five quid, and I'll get David

to clear the rest of the shed afterwards.

- I can't be fairer than that. - £.

You're a hard man, Mr Eames. I'll...

All right, I'll... I'll go to ten.

Sorry.

£, and that's me final offer.

- All right. Come on, David. - Mr Greengrass!

David, David! Shut it and get in the truck.

We're gonna make quid from Colonel Smythe's funeral!

I know that, don't I? Have I not taught you anything?

You never give 'em the first price they ask for.

They always come down.

I don't think he will.

- Uh, Mr Greengrass? - Yes?

You can have it for £.

Thank you. Now, there's a surprise.

I think we'll need some of the tack, as well, so, go, David.

Thank you very much.

Any calls?

No. Just a couple of wrong numbers.

Like what?

Well, you know, silence.

Just ringing off without saying anything.

Oh, and someone rang about a diary.

- Oh, yes? - Had you found it or something?

He rang off before I could ask his name.

Bit peculiar, really.

TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACKING Fine.

Can you tell me who bought these flowers, please?

Oh, bless him. Such a sad business.

He were devoted to his dad. Devoted.

We're doing the flowers for the funeral, you know.

He and his mother have really gone to town. No expense spared.

I'm sorry, who are we talking about here?

Anthony. Anthony Smythe.

Such a nice boy.

And does he live locally?

Yes. Out Aidensfield way.

His family have lived round here for years.

Though he had to move away because of his job.

- Oh, really? What does he do? - Oh, a solicitor.

Very successful, by all accounts.

Thanks.

- Visitor, Mrs Bradley. - Thank you.

Mike!

For you.

They were on the doorstep when I got home.

I thought I might as well deliver them as I was passing.

Any ideas who they're from?

No.

Oh, good job, the florist was able to tell me, then.

They're from an Anthony Smythe, apparently.

Only he forgot to sign his name.

- Right. - Hmm. So...

What is all this?

Why is an Anthony Smythe sending you red roses?

He's an old friend, that's all.

Is he? Well, he's also a solicitor, I gather. Very cosy.

But that doesn't answer my question.

Mike...

I suppose you two meet each other on cases,

that kind of thing, hmm?

I don't believe this. First, Craddock, and now, you.

There's nothing going on, Mike. I know him, that's all, from York.

"Know" in what sense?

For goodness sake!

What, did you... did you go out together?

Briefly. It was nothing, Mike. It's not worth mentioning.

Except his parents live in Aidensfield

and he's been here for two weeks, nursing his father.

Yes.

All right. Look, he's phoned me a few times.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It didn't seem important.

Did you meet?

No.

Well, so, I, er, I come back to the same question.

Why the flowers?

Look, Jackie, the man's been in the area for two weeks.

We've had these strange phone calls for two weeks,

someone's been hanging outside the house for two weeks.

You're surely not going to suggest that's Anthony too, are you?

Why not?

Oh, what, because he's a nice, middle-class solicitor? Is that it?

Oh, I suppose he hangs around the garden till I've gone, does he?

So, he can see you?

I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Anthony.

Refusing to talk to me isn't gonna make it any better.

He was keen on me.

We went out a few times, and then I ended it.

And I haven't seen him since.

When I heard he was here, and his father was dying, I...

I rang him, just to be friendly.

He was having a terrible time. He needed cheering up.

HE SIGHS

Look, I know I should have told you.

But I knew you wouldn't like it, and...

..it seemed easier not to.

So, you only spoke to him on the phone?

Yes.

Was it him who was making all the phone calls?

No! TELEPHONE RINGS

Mike!

OK, Smythe. I know it's you.

Smythe?

Smythe? LINE GOES DEAD

BERNIE: Is that it?

CLAUDE: Yeah. A genuine antique.

It's a disaster! It's falling to pieces!

- It's got woodworm! - It's not.

That's just the holes where they've been.

It'll be all right with a bit of tender, loving care.

"Tender, loving care"?

Claude, the funeral's in three days' time!

You'd better get your skates on, then, hadn't you?

How are you going to make this...

look like that? - Well...

David'll help with the painting, won't you, David?

- Yes, Mr Greengrass. - What're you gonna be doing?

Gotta go and find someone to pull it.

You haven't got a horse?

Who do you think I am, Prince Monolulu?

You do your bit, leave me to do mine. David, get it unhooked.

- Bring him in for questioning? - MICHAEL: Yes.

- Anthony Smythe? - Yes.

On what grounds?

I've told you on what grounds, phoning us at all hours,

hanging around the garden, breaking into Jackie's car!

Bradley, aren't you getting carried away?

No, Sarge.

You've no proof he had anything to do with this,

no proof whatsoever. - I know it's him.

No, you don't.

Bradley, I would like to help you, but I can't.

This is something for you and your wife to sort out between you.

But, Sarge!

And I want you to keep away from Anthony Smythe.

In fact, that's an order. Understood?

Sarge.

SPRAY HISSING

Mike?

SHE GASPS

Mike!

What's this?

The Bell, Pickering.

That's quite a trek. Let's just see.

The th.

Remind me, that was the day I took a late turn in Whitby, wasn't it?

- Mike... - Two starters.

Two main dishes, a bottle of wine. Oh, very, very cosy.

All right. I had a meal with Anthony.

You said you didn't meet him.

I didn't dare tell you.

HE SCOFFS So...

..what else haven't you "dared" tell me?

Nothing, Mike.

And I didn't tell you because I knew you'd react like this!

Excuse me, but as your husband,

I think I have a right to know who you're seeing behind my back!

For goodness sake, Mike!

What? Does he come over here?

Does he come round when I'm not here?

Is that what's been going on?

Just grow up!

BANGING ON THE DOOR

What's all this? Who are you?

Mike Bradley. Ring any bells?

You know my wife. Jackie.

Jackie?

Listen, I'm not having someone like you mess up our life. Got it?

Take that as a warning.

I haven't the faintest idea what you mean.

Really?

Well, then, perhaps I can jog your memory!

Please keep your voice down!

Let's start with the phone calls, shall we?

- What? Look... - And the spying in the garden?

And the diary. The mysterious diary.

"I'm waiting." What does that mean, eh?

- Well? - Mr Bradley.

Either you stop shouting

and come through to the study to discuss...

Oh! Oh, the study!

Oh, yeah, well, that must've really impressed her.

She's always wanted a grand house.

But I suppose she told you that herself.

I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.

You're besotted, aren't you?

Admit it. You just can't leave her alone.

What are you suggesting?

I don't have to suggest anything, Smythe.

I'm telling you what I know.

For your information, Bradley,

I haven't seen Jackie since she left York.

HE SCOFFS Say that again?

You heard me.

- Liar. - Get out.

Get off. SMYTHE SCREAMS

FAINT NOISE

RUSTLING

PANICKED BREATHING

A horse-drawn funeral? That's a bit grand for you, isn't it, Bernie?

He's not doing it on his own, you know. He's in association with.

It won't be grand. It'll be... tasteful.

Oh, yeah? What does that mean, then, Bernie? An old box on wheels?

Pulled by Alfred.

Trouble with you lot is you've got no imagination.

JACKIE GASPING

Jackie! What's happened?

JACKIE SOBS

Once the GPO have organised the phones,

we'll do a phone tap.

Well, it won't be Anthony Smythe, will it?

- No. - Why's that, then?

Because I was with him at the time,

so, he couldn't have been at the window.

You went there when I expressly told you not to.

- What on earth were you playing at? - Sorry.

I had him on the phone. I calmed him down,

or you'd be in trouble.

- I thought he was the prowler. - You were wrong.

Why was he lying?

Oh, for heaven's sake, Bradley.

We are talking about two different things.

One, the prowler. Two, your wife's boyfriend.

And we've proved they are two different people.

- But, Sergeant... - You're off the case.

SCRIPPS: Well, they don't look right together.

CLAUDE: I'm not gonna use the donkey, am I?

I'm talking about the horse.

But wherever the horse goes, the donkey has to be. David?

Take that donkey across the other side of the field.

Not a bad-looking animal, is it? What do you think?

Well, I'm pleasantly surprised, Claude. She'll do very well.

Not much I don't know about horses.

I don't know about you,

but I'm beginning to feel quietly optimistic.

I'm always optimistic. That's my trouble.

You ironic little devil.

Oscar?

This prowler business.

I think it's time that you and I gave Mike a bit of help.

So, let's make sure we know what we're doing.

If it's him, I give you the signal and you phone the GPO.

And remember to get him talking for as long as possible.

- And how am I supposed to do that? - Well, I don't know.

- Flatter him. You're good at that. - I beg your pardon?

I was only joking.

Well, it wasn't very funny, in the circumstances.

Well, I'm so sorry.

Mike, can we just forget about Anthony?

Nothing happened.

You lied to me.

First, you told me you hadn't been in touch.

Then, you told me you hadn't met!

I said I'm sorry.

I'm, erm, I'm just never quite sure, that's the trouble.

What?

Whether you wouldn't have preferred to be with a man like... like him.

What, Anthony?

Someone more your type.

You're my type!

OK. Then...

..someone who earns more than you, not less.

Is that what all this is about? My earnings?

I don't believe you, Mike. It's just a stage we're at.

When you're a chief constable

and I'm a housebound housewife with three kids,

you'll be earning for both of us.

- Four. - What?

Well, I thought we could have four.

Oh, Mike...

Look, let's just get out of here for an hour or so.

It's not doing us any good.

HE STUTTERS We can't. We can't.

Craddock'll never catch him with this phone-tapping business.

Of course not. A great yellow van parked outside?

Well, the prowler'll be wise to it in a jiffy.

You can't beat good, old-fashioned police methods.

Knowing your area. Knowing your villains.

Exactly.

Now, is this, er...

..all our recent cases, is it?

Yes, everything since she arrived in Ashfordly.

Craddock's been through it with her already, of course.

Ah, but without local knowledge.

- That's right, Oscar. - Right, then.

Well, I'll go through the names, see what we come up with.

I'll mark down the possibles.

- Sid Pontings. Car theft. - He's inside.

Oh. Joseph Maplin, dangerous driving.

No.

Phil Snaith, indecent exposure.

Mmm. Mark him down.

Martin Padmore. Firearms offences.

- He works at the bank, doesn't he? - Yeah.

There was something else about him, if I remember.

Now, what was it?

I tell you what, Alf. My memory's not good enough these days.

Mmm!

I think we should take a look at my old records.

- In the loft. - Oh, yes.

There's something you should know

about your old records in the loft, Oscar.

It's midnight. He's always phoned by now.

- Nothing. - I'm going up. Are you coming?

Jackie, wait.

I know. I'm sorry, too.

Is Craddock here?

- No. - Coast's clear.

- Bellamy. - What's he doing here?

Is this it? Is this all that's left?

Well... there may just be something here.

Oh, it's criminal.

It's like Hitler burning books outside the Reichstag.

I couldn't sleep a wink, thinking about this.

Aha.

Oscar?

OSCAR: Here we are, Alf. June, . Martin Padmore.

Martin Padmore.

Yeah, he started making phone calls,

and then he began following a Jane Dewsbury. I remember.

We knew he was doing it, but we couldn't make it stick.

She hardly knew him, but he thought they were having a love affair.

Right.

Well, you've got to admit, it sounds similar.

Well, I think we'd best get an address.

Pay him a visit, don't you?

Oscar, you'd best leave it to us.

Craddock'll only have a fit. Sorry.

So am I.

We don't know it's Padmore, of course.

No. Of course we don't. So, what do we do? Tell Mike?

Well, Craddock's taken him off the case.

What?

Alf? Oscar. You got a pen handy?

I've got an address for you.

Thorncliffe Drive.

Strictly speaking, Mike, you shouldn't be here.

Alf, just go.

Alf. Alf!

I don't believe this.

All her appointments.

No wonder he needed her diary.

Mike.

Mr Bradley!

Where is she?

She left minutes ago. Why? What's happened?

- Where's she gone? - Home! She went home early.

She's gone!

- ALFRED: What? - She's gone home!

SHE GASPS MARTIN: Keep driving.

It's Martin, isn't it? Martin Padmore.

No talkin'.

There's a track to the right in half a mile to Black Rigg Moor.

- Take it. - But I haven't got much petrol.

You won't need much petrol. HE SNIFFS

HORN BEEPS

BRAKES SCREECH

SHE PANTS

TWIG SNAPS

SHE WHIMPERS

JACKIE SCREAMS

Look at me.

In to my eyes!

Ah! That's better.

You and I belong together, Jackie, you know that, don't you?

- So, why did you kiss him? - What?

I saw you, last night, through the window. Kissing him!

I'm sorry.

You mustn't do it any more. It upsets me.

I'm going to have to punish you.

I said, look at me! SHE WHIMPERS

You are a naughty girl, Jackie,

sending me all those messages.

What messages?

Even yesterday, bang right under his nose.

But I know your little game.

Teasin' me, playing hard to get.

Girls play those sorts of games, don't they,

just to drive a man wild?

Well, you can't get away with it forever, Jackie.

Sooner or later... SHE WHIMPERS

..you've got to pay the price.

All right, mate. Don't sh**t.

Don't sh**t.

MARTIN GROANS

Come here! Come here. Come here.

Easy, Mike. Easy.

Bitch!

- ALFRED: It's OK. - You deceivin', lyin' bitch!

I'll k*ll you! Ugh! No.

Why did you do it, Jackie?

Why did you say you loved me?

SHE CRIES Hey, hey, hey.

Shh...

It's OK. It's OK.

Shh...

MICHAEL CLEARS THROAT You see, the thing is...

..that there seemed to be so many coincidences.

You coming to stay in the village, just when it all started.

The fact that you'd once taken Jackie out.

The flowers. And, well, well, I...

HE SIGHS

I'm afraid, I... I jumped to conclusions.

And then, to come round here and lose my temper, well...

well, there was no excuse.

I'm very sorry.

I'm, er, sorry if I landed you in it with your sergeant.

Oh, Constable!

I don't know if Anthony's asked you, but I hope you'll come tomorrow.

And your wife.

My husband always thought

the local police were quite excellent.

Oh, well, er, thank you very much.

You're a lucky man.

I'd have married her like a shot, but she wasn't interested.

Do come tomorrow. Mother would like it.

MICHAEL: Thanks.

What does she see in him?

JACKIE: So, what's going to happen to him?

MICHAEL: Uh, he'll be held in custody

pending psychiatric reports.

Well, at last, things can get back to normal, eh?

Sorry I made such a fuss about Anthony.

Not that there's a problem, now that I've met him.

I mean, come on. Faced with a choice between him and me,

well, there's no contest, really, is there?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

DONKEY BRAYING

HORSE NEIGHS

Ooh!

HORSE NEIGHS EXCITEDLY

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Whoa!

DAVID: Mr Greengrass!

HORSE NEIGHING

Ah! Whoa!

HORSE NEIGHING

CRASH AND CLATTERING

What happened?

It wasn't my fault! It was the donkey!

Yeah. it takes one to know one.

David, do me a favour.

If you think of any other not-so-bright ideas,

keep 'em to your flamin' self.

DAVID GROANS