10x22 - Consequences

[bunniefuu]

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss

♪ When my baby kisses me?

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why does a love kiss

♪ Stay in my memory? ♪

MUSIC PLAYING ON RADIO

♪ I, I who have nothing

♪ I, I who have no-one

♪ Adore you, and want you so

♪ I'm just a no-one

♪ With nothing to give you But I... ♪

At the last call you made, you said the man was still there.

Now you've said "he might be".

Well, is the van still outside, Mrs Copley, or not?

It's not.

Look, I've already sent PC Bradley out, Mrs Copley.

He'll be outside your house now.

♪ Bright, sparkling diamonds

♪ But believe me, dear, when I say

♪ That she can give you the world

♪ But she'll never love you the way

♪ I love you. ♪

ENGINE REVVING

Are you all right?

Grab that blanket. Give me a hand.

What happened?

I switched on the ignition and something blew up.

It sounded like a b*mb. What was it?

Search me, Mr Bradley.

Hang on.

This doesn't look like an accident to me.

- Here, look. - What do you mean?

Here.

Looks like someone rigged an expl*sive device to your car.

That letter.

Someone has got it in for me, and I can prove it.

"You'll get what you gave, Metcalfe. Soon. No mercy."

Metcalfe says it came two days ago.

The envelope.

He also claims he's received telephone calls, two of them.

Somebody ringing up and not talking to him when he answered.

- Why didn't he report them? - Didn't take them seriously.

They rarely do until it's too late.

Thanks for that.

That was Forensics, sarge.

The expl*sive device, exact type to be determined,

deliberately planted and wired to explode.

Hear that, everyone?

Seems we have a case of attempted m*rder on our hands.

Mr Meeks? Sorry to keep you waiting.

Not at all.

Gave me a chance to admire St Jude's.

I'd given up on you chaps being able to do anything to help.

I've got a file this thick of letters

I've sent to the diocesan authorities.

The wheels of ecclesiastica grind exceeding slow.

- Well, you're here now. - Indeed.

From the look of St Jude's, not a moment too soon.

The garage, does Mr Metcalfe keep it locked?

Not always.

- It was open yesterday. - So much for crime prevention

on your beat, Bradley.

When does he think the car was tampered with?

Sometime before he returned from work last night.

We had a report that a man was seen loitering in a van

close to Mr Metcalfe's house.

It left just before the expl*si*n.

Identity of the man?

Make and year of the van?

I don't know, sarge, but I'm working on it.

Well, try not to let it become the investigative equivalent

of watching grass grow, Ventress. - I'll try not, sarge.

This Metcalfe, what do we know about him?

An ambulance driver with Ashfordly General. No form.

From what I know, a solid, upstanding member of the community.

And yet he attracts anonymous phone calls

and threatening letters.

That rarely happens for no reason.

Well?

RONALD: Hmm. As I thought.

The entire structure is subsiding.

Subsiding?

St Jude's has the closest association with our family

and I insist you pull your finger...

- Do something about it. - So I shall.

A comprehensive schedule of works which I intend to submit

to the diocesan authorities.

Quite. But who pays?

The estate can no longer afford to maintain church property.

I'm sure I can persuade my superiors to fund it, Lord Ashfordly.

- In the long-term. - I sincerely hope so.

But remedial action is required now.

The most urgent thing is the removal of all heavy materials stored here.

- Oscar. - Ah, Mike, yes.

I hear Frank Metcalfe has been a bit shaken up.

HE SCOFFS News travels fast.

It's not every day someone nearly gets blown up by a b*mb.

I was at the hospital when he showed up for work.

They were talking about it in the butcher's this morning.

How well do you know Frank?

I knew him quite well during my time on the council,

he was one of our volunteer drivers. Why?

I need a little background info, that's all.

Well, my theory...

Let's just deal with Frank, shall we?

He leads a simple life.

Doesn't drink, doesn't gamble. Goes to church.

As far as I know, sleeps in his own bed,

which is more than I can say of some people around here.

TRICIA: From what of I know of Frank, I agree.

He's a dedicated man. As straight as they come.

You want me to invest in the scrap business, is that it?

Not scrap, Bernard. Reclamation.

Look at that machine.

You put a dead car in one end, and out it comes the other end

in heaps of precious metals.

We could make millions.

Mr Scripps,

I need reliable people to work up at St Jude's.

At your service, Your Lordship.

Is that the same work as me and Mr Greengrass did, Lord Ashfordly?

This time, we need everything cleared.

Stored fittings, fixtures, rubbish, the lot.

No job too big or too small for Scripps' Enterprises.

As long as we can agree on the tariff for services rendered.

Tariff?

What the devil's he on about?

Not sure, Your Lordship.

I'll pay you what I paid Greengrass.

I'm not sure that would cover my break-even costs.

What costs?

Oh, never mind. Do you want the job, or not?

Yes.

I've tried to match the description of the van with pictures of these.

Er... No.

Mrs. Copley thinks it's that model.

She's says it's either a dark blue or a dark red.

And it was shiny, so it's probably new.

There are more vans of that description

than other are breadcrumbs on this desk.

PHONE RINGS

Ashfordly Station.

Speaking. I see.

What about serial numbers?

If you would, yes, please.

Good. I'll expect them then. Thank you. Goodbye.

Forensics say the expl*sives used were PEs,

rigged by an expert in expl*sive devices.

Somebody army trained, they believe. Let PC Bradley know, will you?

- RAYMOND: How is he? - Most of the glass missed him.

My main worry is shock, Mr Dale has a heart condition.

- Is he in a fit state to talk? - I want him to get treatment first.

He said he'd been on the receiving end

of anonymous phone calls and yesterday,

a threatening letter arrived, the same as Mr Metcalfe.

We're ready, Doctor Summerbee.

First me, now this. What's going on?

Or does somebody have to die before we find out?

Mr Scripps?

David?

Ronald Meeks. I've been expecting you.

We've not come for a service, you know, Vicar.

No, no, but here to do a service of a kind, nonetheless.

You'll be working under my direction.

You?

Where's Lord Ashfordly?

Not gone to a far, far better place, I hope?

I'm acting on his behalf.

I've drawn up a precise order of business for you to follow.

Certain items I want removing before others, for example.

So... onward.

You're positive? Both identical?

What about prints?

Well, he obviously knows what he's about.

Could you arrange for me to meet Major Forbes?

Names and addresses of eyewitnesses.

They both saw a van leaving the area before the expl*si*n.

Dark blue Transit.

Same one we're looking for, it has to be.

RAYMOND: Forensics confirmed the expl*sives were PEs,

and that some are missing from the local TA armoury.

I've arranged to meet a Major Forbes there.

Mr Dale asked me to pick this up from his house and give it to you.

His wife said it came two days ago.

"You'll get what you gave, Dale.

"Soon. No mercy."

My sentiments exactly where this individual is concerned.

I'll have to get on.

Thank you, Dr Summerbee. If you hear anything...

I'll let you know.

Is there an army connection?

Mr Dale saw w*r service.

Metcalfe, National Service. Years apart.

RAYMOND: Right.

These are not random att*cks.

And the odds are on it happening again.

Forget about motive, we'll do this the hard way.

Concentrate on the van.

Assemble a list of all those people whose Transits match the reports.

Check them out. Start close to home and then move out.

I want this individual found and stopped.

PHONE RINGS

Aidensfield Arms.

Hello.

Hello.

Look, I know you're there, whoever you are.

So, if you've got something to...

You'll find there's other areas crammed with heavy material

Up there for instance.

I want everything out in the open where we can see it.

Even all the old lead and all that, Vicar?

Everything means everything.

All out.

What lead?

There's stacks of it up on the roof.

Mr Greengrass, he wanted to buy it and all the other valuable rubbish,

but Lord Ashfordly sent him packing.

Out. Out. Out.

Any questions?

Well, we'll need a hoist to get this lot down.

Arrange it, Mr Scripps. Onward.

I see what you mean about valuable. I smell money here, David.

Mr Greengrass reckoned it was worth a fortune.

And this is just one church.

How many others are there around the country.

Might be hundreds. Why?

Yours not to reason why, David.

CHATTING INDISTINCTLY

He's there, sir.

Sergeant Craddock. Major Forbes.

- You've seen the forensics report? - Yes.

And I think we can help. Come this way.

The amm*nit*on is kept down here.

Once we knew army material was involved,

we checked all our inventories and Ashfordly Armoury showed up.

We're missing ten of these from here.

- When did they go missing? - Some time in the last month.

We're still checking to see if anything else has gone.

You're too high. I can't live with your rates.

I've already given you a discount you don't deserve.

What's all this?

- Mr Atkins? - That's right.

PC Mike Bradley, Aidensfield Police.

I've got you down as the owner of a blue Transit, is that right?

- What about it? - Is it here?

Brian Tranter's got it out on deliveries.

Look, could you tell me, is it garaged at night?

Yeah, here in a lockup.

Well, you wanted to see it, there it is.

All right, Brian?

I'll need to make an account of your movements

over the last couple of nights, Mr Atkins.

- What for? - We're investigating an offence.

And a van very similar may have been used.

It wasn't this van. I've told you, it's locked up every night,

and as for me I was at home. - Can anyone confirm that?

- My wife. - And where is she?

You missed her. She left this morning.

Left for where?

She's down South, visiting relatives.

Don't worry. I'll have her contact you.

PHONE RINGS

Aidensfield Arms.

Hello.

Oh, it's you again, is it?

Are you gonna say something this time?

You just listen to me, whoever you are.

Your days are numbered.

Hello?

- Gina. - What?

These phone calls, are they anything to do with you?

- What phone calls? - This joker rings up.

When I answer it, all I get is heavy breathing.

It's nothing to do with me. I'm a good girl these days.

Boring, I know, but at least I get to bed early.

If it's not one of your fancy men, who the devil is it?

It's not the first time the village kids have tried to tease you.

They know it works.

There must be easier ways of earning a living.

Well, I spoke to these hippie musicians today.

They wanted me to drop out, tune in,

and got to a festival with them.

Well, you'd look good in long hair, Phil

and smelling of mud.

What's that smell?

It's not those vile egg sandwiches of yours, is it, Ventress?

No, sarge.

I'm too busy for lunch today.

How touching. Well, I have news.

The PEs were stolen from the TA armoury, here, in Ashfordly.

List of all those with access to the armoury.

- I'll crosscheck them, sarge. - Do so.

Mr Metcalfe and Mr Dale escaped relatively unharmed.

The next victim might not be so lucky.

Making progress, Mr Scripps?

"We never sleep", the motto of Scripps Enterprises.

Working with you has opened my eyes, Mr Meeks.

- Oh, yes? - The way you handle worldly matters

in the interests of a higher purpose.

Very well put, Mr Scripps.

All those churches you visit and put to rights.

I was wondering how I could help.

Take St Jude's.

There must be lots of stuff in there you don't need.

I'm listening.

What you need is a man of business.

Someone with the legal right to dispose of it on your behalf.

You being that man, of course.

Better me than a man of the cloth.

People take advantage of the likes of you chaps.

Sadly, all too true.

We've got a deal, then, have we?

Why not?

Once you help me achieve my aim, here at St Jude's,

anything is possible, Mr Scripps.

Are you ready?

I thought you'd gone.

No. I was waiting for you.

Mike, I need to get this done for tomorrow.

It's very messy divorce stuff.

You go on. I'll join you as soon as I've finished.

PHONE RINGS I'll get it.

Hello.

I'm sorry, you must have the wrong number.

Someone thinking we were a hotel. I must get on.

Yeah, well, hurry up, eh?

Make sure you get down there before last orders.

What exactly is it you're after?

A watertight contract to flog redundant stuff from old churches.

You reckon there's money in it?

Mr Greengrass, he reckoned there was a fortune, just at St Jude's.

Bernard, this could be very big.

I mean, yes, just a dogsbody at St Jude's today,

but tomorrow, the Tsar of all redundant churches.

It might be worth investing in.

I don't think I want any investments at the moment, Bernard.

But you could impress me by getting the next round in.

- Oscar, the usual, please. - Ah, Mike.

The village kids are plaguing me with anonymous phone calls.

Can you do something about it?

What makes you think it's the village kids?

Who else could it be?

Why? What is it?

Frank Metcalfe and Mr Dale received two anonymous phone calls.

Oh, I see. You think there's some connection?

It might be a coincidence.

Or you're next on their hit list.

And, Oscar, I don't believe in coincidences.

Come on, David. Faster.

Mr Scripps, have you seen anything like this tucked away in St Jude's?

No, I can't say I have.

An old baptismal font. It's in here somewhere.

It's most urgent that I find it.

You can keep that.

Is that any way to treat church property?

Sorry, Vicar. Just a slip of the hoist.

It could have been the object that I'm looking for.

Take care.

Or the next slip will be your prospects crashing to Earth.

Don't worry. It won't happen again, and we'll find this font.

Now, em...

..I shall be elsewhere today so if you do come across it,

telephone me here.

Find it, Mr Scripps,

and with my help, that contract is yours.

We've found something, sarge.

The name of one of the Transit owners

is on the list of people

who are allowed access to the armoury.

- Who is it? - You saw him yesterday.

Peter Atkins.

Atkins? I'm still trying to contact his wife

to confirm his whereabouts when the att*cks took place.

Yeah, I spoke to Major Forbes, he says Atkins is an ex-para

and part-time instructor there.

Well, it's time we spoke with Mr Atkins again.

You and Bellamy fetch him in.

- Searching for woodworm, Oscar? - Ow!

SHE LAUGHS

- I'm glad you think that's funny. - Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh.

- Have you checked upstairs? - Yeah, most of it.

There's nothing there. There's nothing anywhere.

Just keep looking, Gina.

And don't argue. Please.

SHE EXHALES All right, if you insist.

Though why anybody would try and b*mb you is beyond me.

You're a real softie, Oscar.

Mr Atkins, sorry to take up more of your time.

I still haven't heard from my wife, if that's what you've come about.

That and other related matters.

What matters?

Not here, sir. Down at the station.

What is this? I've got a business to run here.

It won't take long, sir.

I'll have to tell my blokes.

PC Bellamy will go down there with you, if that's all right.

Suit yourself.

- VERNON: Anything, David? - No.

We've gotta find it, David,

otherwise we can kiss goodbye to our deal.

Give me that drawing again.

Oh, yeah. Mr Greengrass had that.

- What are you on about now? - I remember now.

It were the rubbish we cleared out last time we worked here.

Why didn't you say that before?

I've only just remembered.

Try and remember again.

What did Mr Greengrass do with it?

I don't need to remember that. I know.

It's round back, at our place.

EXASPERATED SIGH

You're accusing me of attempted m*rder?

That I'm going round Aidensfield rigging expl*sive devices?

You're an ex-para, you have the expertise.

Also, you instructed the TA where the stuff was stolen.

Do you still deny it was your van witnesses reported seeing?

Yes! Mine's securely locked up at night.

I've said all this to Constable Bradley.

Who else uses your vans?

Well, during work hours, my blokes.

The keys stay in the office at night.

Your movements at the time of the attack.

You still maintain that you were at home with your wife,

who, conveniently, is travelling in parts unknown.

Believe what you want.

Have you ever seen that before, Mr Atkins?

What kind of sick joke is this?

That's one of the anonymous threatening letters

sent by the attacker. - It's nothing to do with me!

MICHAEL: They came in envelopes like this.

That was typed on your office machine. Same typeface.

I've said all I'm gonna say till you get my solicitor in.

Mr Greengrass couldn't sell it,

so he thought he'd use it for something useful.

There it is.

It's a sort of a birdbath.

Don't just stand there, David. Let's get it out.

Well, come on!

Put your back into it, lad.

DAVID: I'm getting very wet.

I thought it might be you. I found your card in Atkins' office.

Well, he's a client. I'm handling his divorce.

Divorce?

Yes, it's the case I've been working on.

How long has that been going on?

Since his wife left a few months back.

Are you saying Mrs Atkins no longer lives in the family home?

What's going on here?

Atkins says he was at home with his wife at the time of the att*cks.

You thought you'd trick the information out of me.

We would have found out anyway.

You do your job and I'll do mine, Mike.

Bradley, I want you to draw up a search warrant.

I want Atkins's home and premises searched.

Hello. Can I speak to the Reverend Meeks, please?

Me? I'm a business colleague.

He asked me to ring. I've got something for him.

Ah.

When will he be back?

Where is this?

No, no, don't tell him. I want it to be a surprise. Thanks.

Ever heard of the Saracen's Head, David?

Yeah, it's a pub round the back end of Ashfordly.

Rough old place.

Why?

Why would a vicar be staying there?

Are you going to charge him, or not?

When we've finished our immediate enquiries.

In the meantime, he'll be our guest for tonight.

If there's no charge, I'd like him released in the morning.

Your client has lied to us, Mrs Bradley.

If he's innocent, what's the advantage?

Put simply, it's none of your business, Sergeant.

We've searched everywhere, sarge,

but no sign of any expl*sives or anything else.

Atkins is lying, Bradley.

PEOPLE CHATTING INDISTINCTLY

Hey, Mr Vernon, is that the vicar?

Come on, David. We've seen enough here.

Morning, Gina.

Letter for you.

Thanks.

- Oscar. - Hmm.

"You'll get what you gave, Gina.

"Soon. No mercy."

But I thought it was you he was after.

So did I.

But I was wrong.

We all were.

- Bradley! - Sarge.

Let's see it.

It's postmarked yesterday. Atkins could have sent this.

She's through here.

DOOR OPENS

- Hello, Pete. - Thanks for coming so quick.

You said it was urgent.

I've been thinking things over.

I need your advice, Mrs Bradley.

Oh, aye. Antiques, now.

This is valuable, Bernard.

Why else would that phoney vicar go to so much trouble to find it?

If it's valuable, people will know about it. Let's have a look at that.

VERNON: Have you got a local contact?

Not as such, but the museum will have an expert.

I'll get on to it.

I've got that feeling I get in the presence of money.

This could be the big one, Bernard.

What will you do with it, Mr Vernon?

We're going to do what we always do, lad.

The right thing.

Think hard, Gina. Any circumstance,

anything that could link you with Mr Metcalfe and Mr Dale.

I've been racking my brains. We live in the same village,

bump into each other the way people do.

Beyond that... I'm sorry.

Do you know a Mr Peter Atkins?

I've heard the name, but I can't place it.

Late s, ex-army,

runs an equipment hire business in Ashfordly.

No.

Maybe it was Bernie and his mates mentioning it at the bar.

This Atkins, is he a suspect?

As it happens, yes.

- Has he been charged? - I don't want to discuss it.

I take that to mean he hasn't.

We'll be interviewing Mr Atkins again when we return to Ashfordly.

What plans have you made to protect Gina?

The best possible plans.

The arrest and imprisonment

of the person responsible for these att*cks.

You best make sure you do that.

Oh, sarge, Jackie was called in by Atkins.

Do we know why?

Wanted to change his statement.

He's admitted he's been lying, sarge.

RONALD GROANS

Morning, Vicar.

Mr Scripps.

Still no sign of that font yet.

Don't worry, it'll show up.

I don't want it to "show up," as you put it, I want it found!

Now, leave everything else

and concentrate on finding it.

I know it's here. Somewhere.

Find it, Mr Scripps, lest you be judged incompetent.

RAYMOND: You still deny causing those explosions?

Of course I deny it.

Even though you lied to us about your movements.

My client is trying to cooperate.

Your client has lied to us once, why should he not be lying now?

He lied to protect others, not himself.

Where is your wife now?

She's been gone for months.

She took off with a bloke she'd been seeing on the quiet.

They've got my kids.

She's applied to have me barred from seeing them.

If you weren't with your wife on those nights, where were you?

With a woman. A close friend. Someone who's...

Someone who's been helping me through this nightmare.

I've already spoken with her. She confirms it.

Her name and address.

My client couldn't involve her.

If his wife finds out he's seeing this woman, any woman,

she'll use it to deny him parental rights to his children.

Haven't you got anything better to do?

I'm not letting you out of my sight.

D'you know what, I refuse to let some nutter ruin my life.

Complain all you like. It's falling on deaf ears.

What's wrong?

Oh, Mr Dale and the stuff with the ambulance.

You do the shopping. I've got to see Sergeant Craddock.

I never thought you'd check.

I was a stupid lie.

On that we agree.

This envelope was used by the person we're looking for.

As I said before, we think it was typed on your office machine.

It can't be.

Sarge. Mike.

Excuse me.

Gina wants a word with you.

I've remembered something.

It was about two years ago.

I was out shopping.

This woman took ill and collapsed outside the shops.

Mr Dale came out.

He tried to help her. Called an ambulance.

It took forever to arrive.

Some kind of traffic jam, Mr Metcalfe said.

- Metcalfe drove the ambulance? - Yeah.

But it was too late. She died before he got there.

- Why didn't you tell us before? - I don't know.

Maybe it's something I didn't want to remember.

What was the woman's name, Gina?

Mrs Tranter.

An elderly woman. She lived somewhere in Ashfordly.

Tranter's one of those on the list with access to the armoury.

Her death was reported in the paper.

I think there was a son mentioned.

MICHAEL: Just a minute.

Brian Tranter, ex-para mate of Atkins.

What do we know about him?

Works with Atkins. Also, he lives in an apartment above the office.

Thanks, Gina. It's time you got back to Aidensfield.

Bellamy, get ready to go. Bradley, fetch Atkins.

We're taking him with us.

It was your van with Tranter driving.

He had the means and the know-how to rig up the bombs.

I still can't believe it's Brian.

Cost a bit, that. Expert opinion.

Or as near as the museum expert could say from a drawing.

"Early Norman baptismal font."

He thinks it was made a few hundred years

after St Aiden was converting the heathens round here.

He missed a few, didn't he, St Aiden?

Heathens.

There was that fake vicar for a start.

What's it worth, Bernard?

Very rare. Only a few left.

Why, specialist collectors or museums would pay till it hurts

to get their hands on the one we found.

Excuse me.

The one I found.

Yeah, but it doesn't belong to either of you, does it?

What now?

I want you to make a phone call, Bernard.

I'll tell you what to say.

A call to Lord Ashfordly

about a certain gentleman of the cloth.

I see. I've always admired that about you, the way you plan ahead.

It's this way.

It's up here.

MICHAEL: Sarge.

No comment, Mr Atkins?

I've got to find him.

Brian guessed you'd be coming for him next.

He told Jimmy you'd find him in Aidensfield.

I'll call Gina.

PHONE RINGS

Why are you wasting time with all this?

ASHFORDLY: Mr Meeks?

Lord Ashfordly.

Making progress?

Yes. The burden on St Jude's is easing by the hour.

Excellent.

By the way, who did you say authorised these works?

The diocesan authorities.

Who say they've never heard of you.

Well, perhaps not in the first instance.

The Quinquennial Commission.

Which doesn't exist.

Nor the Dilapidations Board, the Redundant Churches Fellowship,

or any of the rest of your gobbledegook.

I shouldn't if I were you, Mr Meeks.

Not if you want to stay friends with the shotgun.

SHOTGUN COCKING

I think you'd better come along

and tell the police what's been going on.

Confession being good for the soul, eh, "Vicar"?

PETER: I've known Brian since we joined up as kids.

You wouldn't believe what we went through together.

- No-one would. - Well, you should have known.

You've had loyalty cloud your judgment, Mr Atkins.

He saved my life when we were dropped over Suez.

He shielded me from a grenade burst.

He's still carrying parts of it.

He's not a well man, Sergeant.

That's why I employ him.

I promised myself to look out for him.

We're not open yet.

- Gina Ward? - Yeah.

- You k*lled my mother. - What?

SHE SCREAMS

Ow! Oscar!

Get off me!

Oscar!

He's taken off in that Transit. He's got Gina.

All you just had to do was get her to hospital.

But you didn't care, did you? She meant nothing to you.

Someone's got to pay for that, Gina.

GINA: Get off me!

GINA CRYING

Don't make it worse for yourself, Tranter.

- Brian! - Stay out of this, Pete.

She k*lled my mother.

She and the other two, and she pays for that.

- Let her go! - Easy, Phil.

Try that again and I'll k*ll her right here.

Take it easy, Tranter.

I mean it. And I can do it.

Tell them, Pete.

Sure. You could k*ll her. Break her neck just like that.

It's what they trained us to do.

That's right. It's one thing they can't take from me.

Why should they? You were the best.

Much good it did me.

She was my mother.

She didn't deserve to go like that.

You should've talked to me, Brian.

You were too busy, mate.

You had your own problems.

We're talking now.

The least they could have done was to help her.

You do what they ask of you, and more.

And for what, eh?

They don't care, civilians.

You give 'em your all and they let her die.

Right there on the street.

Look, I understand.

It can't go on.

Someone's got to pay. Someone.

Do you know what I mean?

Leave him! Don't touch him.

It's all right. We'll sort it out. You've got my word on that.

You're all right, Gina.

BRAKES SQUEAK

ASHFORDLY: Mr Meeks is now in police custody.

Turns out he was a professional looter of old churches,

nicknamed, of course, The Vicar.

But the font...

Meeks' discovery was located here from some old book.

When I questioned David about it, he told me you'd found it.

I was just doing the right thing, Mr Vernon.

His Lordship being the rightful owner, like.

A godsend. Its sale will provide us

with all the funds we need to restore St Jude's.

Lord Ashfordly, the stuff we pulled out of St Jude's,

you'll let me take it off your hands for services rendered?

Sorry, your brother's already laid claim to it.

Bernard?

Well, not unreasonable. He did tip me off about Meeks.

Oh, well, Bernie. Me.

It's all in the family, Your Lordship.

Well, fair point.

It's yours, Scripps.

All yours.

Good try, Bernard.

Not good enough.