Transcripts - Forever Dreaming

PIERCING SCREAM

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

Next carriage, sir!

All right, all right. OK.
Come on.

Clear the way, please. Clear.

Thank you.

Who can tell me what happened?

We all came in here for lunch.
We went into a tunnel

and when we came out
the other side, there he was.

Can I ask you all to wait
in the next carriage, please?

Do as the Inspector asks.

Excellent job, by the way.

Thank you.

♪ One morning, in the month of June

♪ Down by a rolling river

♪ There a weary traveller
chose to stay

♪ And here beheld his lover

♪ Her cheeks were red,
her eyes were brown

♪ Her hair in ringlets hanging dawn

♪ She had a lovely face
without a frown

♪ just as the tide was flowing. ♪

MARGO: All right, everyone.

You can get on with the rest of your
Saturday,

but we've got a full
dress rehearsal tomorrow,

so don't be late. You all right for
any costume nips and tucks tomorrow?

I'll bring my box.

Thank you so much for doing this.

Sorry it was all a bit last-minute.

No, you're very welcome.

It made for an interesting weekend.

Mm-hm!
Any news on Terry and Lynne?

Well, the embassy's arranged
for a new passport

and there's a flight
the day after tomorrow,

so they should make the actual night.

But if you can stand in again
for tomorrow's dress rehearsal,

that will really help.
I'm free!

Well, I'll have to check
my crowded social calendar,

but I'll do my best.

You're a star!

Hear that?

The director called me a star.

And here they are,

our famous Inspector O'Keefe,
Lady Wickham!

HE CHUCKLES
You did a wonderful job, you know?

Didn't they, Katie?

Kate!

Your line -
"Do as the Inspector asks," -

perhaps a tad more urgency?

Here we go. I'm just trying to
get it right, George.

Esther's only standing in, Katie.

Even so.

And my name is Kate.

I'll try harder... Kate.

Anyone fancy a quick one?

As the new boy, I feel
I should buy you all a drink.

Well, if you're paying...

Excuse me.

Not me, thanks.

I've got a hungry teenager
waiting to be fed.

I want to go over my lines again.

Home for me too, but have fun.

Looks like a cheap night, then.

See you all tomorrow.
Don't be late.

Toot-toot!

ALL CHUCKLE

ESTHER SIGHS

Is it too late to change
the m*rder victim?

She's a bit full of herself.

Had an audition for Emmerdale. Now
she thinks she's Judi Dench. Hmph!

ESTHER: Ooh.

Is he part of the play?

He's rather pretty for an engine driver.

I don't think so.

Well, maybe he's Lady Wickham's
secret lover.

More to the point,

do you think he'd let me
take a look at the engine?

No harm in asking.
Or I could do it for you?

No, it's OK.

I can manage.

Are you the driver?

Not exactly. I'm the fireman. Kieran.

Kieran Fish.

I look after the boiler.
Harry there's the driver.

QUlET CHATTER.

Ah. I was hoping to take a look around.

Go on. Jump on.

Can I?

This is amazing!

My grandad used to drive these
back in the day.

I've loved them ever since.

All the gauges on the left
there, that's my stuff,

keeping the boiler at
temperature when we set off.

Harry works the throttle and the brakes.

Very much a two-man operation?

Doesn't work otherwise.

Ah.

May I?

Knock yourself out.

TRAlN WHISTLE BLOWS.

WHISTLE BLOWS AGAIN

WHISTLE BLOWS REPEATEDLY

MORE WHISTLE-BLOWlNG.

STEAM HISSES

Oh... Ohh!

Help!

BRAKES SCREECH

WHISTLE BLOWS

HARRY: Get off my train!

BOTH SNIGGER

Sounded like you were having fun.
The driver seemed a bit cross.

But, yes, something else
ticked off the bucket list.

I know we're related,
but you're table-blocking.

Hmm? You've been here for three hours

and you haven't actually
bought anything.

I'm shopping, dear.

For what? A man.

Excuse me?

Elsie Relish at the farm shop
told me about this new app.

It's called Silver Heart -

for people of a certain age
looking for companionship.

It's rather like window shopping.

If you don't like the look of them,

you double tap and they go in the bin,

but if you do,

you swipe up and they
go in your shopping basket.

You're not actually buying them.
Heavens, no!

It's a metaphorical shopping basket.

Well, at least I hope it is.
PHONE CHIMES.

Just for companionship?

Well, Elsie uses hers for casual sex.

But I'd just like someone
to help me walk the dog.

You haven't got a dog.

Well, no. But I put one on my profile.

I thought it made me sound... warmer.

I called him Humphrey.

So... you're using an imaginary dog

named after my fiance to lure
men back to the cottage?

Yes, dear.

Hello!

Ah! How was it?

Margo said I was very convincing.
PHONE CHIMES.

Playing the part of a detective?

Ah. Yes. I see what you mean.

I'm sure you were amazing.

Ooh... Are you OK, Anne?

Hmm?
She's shopping.

Oh, no. He's got a lazy eye.

I'd never know if he was
paying attention.

It's hard to think of your mum
as someone's girlfriend.

Bit like trying to imagine
Donald Trump ice-skating.

Does it bother you?
A bit.

I mean, it's three years since
we lost Dad, so...

I shouldn't be surprised, I suppose.

But you are?

I just need to get my head around it.

Hmm.

I think I'm more worried
that she's doing it online.

What if she's catfished?

Um...

Meets someone pretending to be
someone they're not.

Well, I could talk to her, if you like.

Explain the perils of online dating
from a police perspective.

Good idea.

Might make her more careful.

Consider it done.

I think there must be something
in the air.

Your mum looking for love,

you and I doing date nights.

Well, we Lloyds are very
romantic, I'll have you know.

Indeed you are.
Though I'm not sure

how many date nights we'll get
if we're allowed to foster.

Next steps are interviews
and a home visit.

She thinks everything's on track.

Good.

I must confess, I'm really
excited now it's happening.

Although I am a little bit, um...

HE EXHALES

Me too.

Though if it cuts down on
our date nights,

we'd better make the most of this one.

Absolutely.

GLASSES CLlNK.

TRAlN WHISTLE BLOWS.

See how you get on tonight.

I can always let it out a bit more.

Ow!

Oh, sorry.

Right, everyone.

Final dress rehearsal.

Next time we do it will be
in front of paying guests,

so let's not leave anything
in the locker!

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

All right?

To be clear, the deceased
was seen alive and well

at the very moment the train
entered the tunnel...

and yet, by the time it
re-emerged from the tunnel...

he was dead.

Examine the line, mate.

I had a call about debris.
OK, mate.

Never worry, everyone,
this is Dean Prior,

the last tunnel before
Shipton Abbott.

MARGO: Hold your positions.

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

And would you say you were,
uh, close?

This heat is interminable.

I need a glass of water!

Ohh...

It's clear that everyone
in this carriage

was also in the buffet car

at the very moment the train
entered the first tunnel,

so it is equally clear that
the m*rder*r...

is someone sat in front of me now.

Sir?
Hmm?

I think you need to come and see this.

That's not your line.

He's dead.
No, that's not it either.

Margo, keep everyone in here.

Cut!

Uh, Esther...

He's really dead.

I know.

The last tunnel - someone must
have sneaked back in here.

Which means... one of those
people in there...

really is the m*rder*r.

SIREN WAILS

I want everyone off the platform!

KELBY: Back, please. Move back.

Back!
REPORTERS CLAMOUR

I've let all the players go,

but made it clear we'll
need to talk to them again.

Good. Thank you.
KELBY: Platform's clear, sir.

Just the press outside.
OK, thanks.

Have we searched the train?
Yes, sir.

Only three carriages were open -

the one used as the backstage
area, the buffet car

and the passenger carriage used
for the performance.

The other one was locked.

What about train staff?

There was an engine driver
and a fireman.

I talked to them both,

but they didn't see or hear
anything unusual

and were together in
the engine cab the whole time.

Which means our k*ller
has to be one of

the Shipton Abbott Players.
My thoughts exactly, sir.

Well, hopefully we can rule out
three of those.

Can we?

You, me and Margo, sir.

Right!

Good point, Sergeant.

If we rule out you, me and Margo,
that leaves us with four suspects,

and any one of them
could have sneaked back in here

when the train went through
the last tunnel. Hmm.

Do you how hard it is
to s*ab someone in the back?

I've never tried it,
but not easy, I bet.

No, it is not.

The muscles in the upper part
of the back

are much thicker
than most people imagine.

It takes a great deal of force
to penetrate them.

Our victim was a big man,

yet there's no sign of
any kind of a struggle.

Which suggests that he was
standing with his back

to whoever stabbed him.

At the buffet table?

But if that's the case...

then aren't we missing something?

There's no blood.

I got these from
the Shipton Players' website.

MARGO: I went to school with him.

Used to pick his nose
and put it in his inkwell.

What's an inkwell?

It's a little pot...

you put your ink in.

For your pen?

PHONE RlNGS
Like a quill.

Do you want a smack in the mouth?

Hmm?

Shipton Abbott police station.

Can one of you two phone
the Chief Superintendent?

Why?

Press are having a field day.

It's escalated from
local papers to the nationals.

I mean, an actual m*rder
on a m*rder-mystery night

is bad enough, but it happening
under the noses

of two serving police officers

has got 'em all whipped up
into a frenzy.

That's one for you, Sergeant.

I'll call her.

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

Margo?
Hmm?

The Shipton Abbott Players.
Tell me about them.

Right...

Kate Potts.

Wannabe actress.

Fresh out of drama school.

Likes the sound of her own voice.

But harmless enough.

Polly Deakins just reported
a Peeping Tom.

She's got a nerve!

All the curtain-twitching she does!

Even so, better go check it out.

Yeah.

George Harris.

Widower.

Lost his wife Louise
about six years ago,

so joined every group
and activity in Shipton Abbott.

Moans at all of them.

Vivienne Bishfield.

She's a biology teacher at the college.

I think she moved here from Exeter

about five or six years ago.

Heart of gold.

Noah Culpepper.

A bit of a geek,

but harmless.

Divorced.

His wife Janet ran off
with his best mate. Sally.

And were they all friends
with Paul Yellen, our victim?

No, that's the thing, see.
None of us were.

He only just joined us
a few days earlier.

I think he just bought a house here.

So he's not local?

No. I'm pretty sure
he said he was from Hastings.

I mean, that's why he was our victim.

It's a tradition.

The newest member always gets
to play the m*rder victim.

Yes.
Unfortunately, in this case...

quite literally.

And when was this, exactly, Polly?

Last night. After dark.

Ten, maybe?

How's your mother?

Oh, she's good. Thanks.

She still cleaning up at the school?

Not any more, no.

She got a job at the card shop.

Ah. And you say this man

was standing across the road?

Across the road, but looking this way.

She still with that waste
of space with the motorbike?

If you mean my dad,
yep, she's still with him.

Um... but he hasn't got a bike any more.

He's got a Hyundai.

Mmm.

Never liked him.

He was a foot-tapper.

Never trust a man who taps his foot

when you're talking to him.
Right.

So, he was across the road,
but looking at you.

I didn't say he was looking at me.

I said he was looking over this way.

But he was up to no good.

You could tell.

How long would you say he was there?

Oh...

Over an hour.

He only left because some woman
caught him nosing about.

Gave him a right telling off.

Which woman?

No idea.

Like I said, it was dark.

Could you describe either of them?

He was medium height,

had a woolly hat on.

She were medium height.

No hat.

There's not much more we can achieve

till the labs open in the morning,

but let's talk to Hastings police,

see what they can tell us
about the victim. Right. So...

have you got anything exciting planned

for this evening?
Ooh... Beans on toast,

bath,

then help Zoe with her CV.

Is she looking for a job?

Well, I'm doing most
of the looking, if I'm honest.

She's a good kid, but
like every other 16-year-old,

she's just on her phone all day.

Honestly, I want her to get out
and meet people.

It's the curse of the world wide web.

I've got a similar problem
with Martha's mum.

She's looking for love online.

Hmm.
I think the plan tonight...

is to talk her out of it.

You're not talking me out of it.

Even after all the things
Humphrey's just told you?

He made them up.
He didn't!

A woman who just happened to be
my age living in Devon

agrees to meet a stranger in a pub,

only to discover
an axe hidden under his coat,

which she sees poking out
when he goes to the bathroom?

Too much?
Too much.

Besides which,
I've already got a match.

What?
His name's Oliver.

He's 63. He has his own hair,

teeth and house,

and we're having dinner
tomorrow evening.

Tomorrow?
He's coming here.

What?
He wants to sample my tagine.

HUMPHREY SNORTS
I bet he does.

And what if he wants to meet
Humphrey?

Why would he want to meet Humphrey?
Your imaginary dog.

You have an imaginary dog?

I'll say he's at the vet's.

Look, I know you're worried
about me, Motty.

And that's very sweet.

But you can't expect me to be on my own

for the time I've got left.

You've got us.

You've got your own lives to live.

What if you move away?

We won't.
You might.

And then what would I do?

Leave here and move in with you?

HIGH-PITCHED: No.

I - I mean, we'd love you to,

er, if we did...

go, I mean, somewhere.

But we're not. But if we did...

Uh, s-so, so,

so when I say no,
I actually mean yes,

if we did, but we're not.

Which is why I...

We just want you to be happy.

Good.

Because having Oliver here

for dinner tomorrow evening
will make me very happy indeed.

Mm?

I suppose I shouldn't worry.

After all, I didn't know
what she got up to

when we were in London.

Well, exactly, and I'm sure

Oliver is a thoroughly decent chap.

Yes. And if he's not,

we can m*rder him
and dump his body in the river.

Yes, agreed.

DUCK QUACKS

Morning.

PRESS CLAMOUR
I've got nothing to say,

and the detective isn't here,
so you're wasting your time.

Can you give us any information, Margo?

Anything at all?

Oh, and there's no T in Margo.

OK, so we're waiting

for the full postmortem
and toxicology reports,

but the preliminary autopsy
came through first thing.

It confirms the blade puncture
in the right lung

as probable cause of death.

There's no other injuries of note,

so no visible signs of a struggle.

Er...

Er...
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Harry Bishfield?

Hello.

Uh, we met briefly
the day before yesterday.

Yes, I was, er, with the...

HE WHISTLES
..and the...

Mm. Yeah, yeah, I remember.

Heh-heh. Yes, right.

Um, sorry.

Am I right in thinking
the train didn't stop at all

during the dress rehearsal yesterday?

We had a call to slow down
through one of the tunnels,

didn't we, boss?
Yeah.

There was a report of debris.

When you say slow down - enough time

for someone to jump
on the train and off again?

Maybe.

Did either of you see anyone
on or near the track

during the journey yesterday?

Not me.

LOW CHATTER

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT
Sir?

Mmm?

O...K.

Uh, thanks, gents.

It's just the... Super.

Um, can I just say, er,

you look very...

good.

Er, I mean, s-smart.

E-everything is, um...

pressed, um, nicely.

I'm just going to, um...

SHE SCOFFS

Sir.

Ma'am.

I hear you've decided
not to run your m*rder room

from regional HO.
Well, it's early days yet, ma'am.

We're still gathering evidence.

I'm not sure what the m*rder rates
are at the Met these days,

Inspector - or the Caribbean,
for that matter -

but thankfully, here,
it's rare enough for us

to take a m*rder inquiry very seriously.

As do I.

Can I be frank?

Of course.

This whole thing has caused
quite a stir.

And because of the media interest,

the powers that be are particularly keen

for an early resolution.

I understand, ma'am.

I hope you do, Inspector, I really do,

because all eyes are on you.

And given your station house
is under review,

there may be more riding
on this case than you know.

I read somewhere

that whatever you wear
on your first date reflects

your personality. I thought you said
it wasn't a date.

Well, it isn't.
It's an introductory meeting,

but I think the same rules apply.

Oh, what about
my camel trouser suit?

Isn't that a bit formal?

Oh, maybe.

SHE SIGHS

Look, you're cooking a meal.
You just need something casual,

something you feel comfortable in.

I don't want to look like a frump, do I?

He won't think you're frumpy.

Look, Mum, I've got to go.

Just be yourself.

Love you, Motty.

You too. Bye.

Bye.

Peter?
Noah.

Peter's the name

of the train conductor
what I was playing.

I plays him Scottish.

Toot-toot!

Heh!

Yesterday, at the dress rehearsal,

did you notice anything unusual?

No.

Got to the train,

Viv did her final costume fitting.

Oh, um...

Vivienne Bishfield.

She played Gill Bond.

Right.

Um, and then what?

But you was there.

Well, tell me anyway.

Well, we moved to the buffet car,

George helped Paul
put the fake knife in place.

Paul laid down,

Margo shouted "action",

Katie screamed.

Then I was sent by Lady Wickham -

Sergeant Williams -

to fetch Inspector O'Keefe.

You.
Yeah.

At any point
after the interview scene,

did you go back into the buffet car?

No. Why would I?

And on the day of the dress rehearsal,

did Paul Yellen seem different
to you than the day before?

I didn't really talk to him.

I mean, I try to help everyone,

you know, with a bit
of direction here and there,

but I had no call to do so with him.

He's just the body.

Quite.

I saw him talking to George, though.

Did you hear what they were
talking about?

Argyle. Turns out
we were both supporters.

Neeow! Pew!
If you're not buying that,

it belongs on the shelf.

I'd met him a few days ago
in Kitty Jay's.

He said he was new to the area,

so I suggested
he come to the Players,

get to know people.

Told him he didn't have to worry

about lines or anything,

because, as the new boy,
he'd just be a dead body.

Turns out I was right.

That's odd, don't you think?

The most miserable man in the world

working in a toy shop?

No, Paul Yellen supporting
Plymouth Argyle

when he lived in Hastings.

Who's next?

Um, Vivienne Bishfield.

CAR LOCK CHlRPS
Ah.

So you arranged all the costumes?

The players have
their own stock of costumes,

but they're all a bit old,
so I just do running repairs.

My mum's a seamstress.

Something to remember
about amateur dramatics -

never let on
you have a particular skill.

SHE CHUCKLES

Your husband Harry is the train driver?

A case in point.

Um, at drinks one evening,

he happened to mention
that he drove a steam train.

Well, Margo was on him like a shot.

Yes, right.

Um, so there was nothing
about Paul Yellen

at the dress rehearsal

that struck you as
being unusual in any way?

Er, no,

but, er, I didn't
really know him well enough

to notice even if there was.

Right.

Not one of the neighbours saw
or heard this mystery bloke,

or the woman that chased him off.

He's probably just a figment

of Polly Deakins' imagination.

FOOTSTEPS APPROACH

Margo?
Mmm?

What have we got on the deceased?

If he lived in Hastings,

he must have been living
in a cave somewhere.

He's not on the voting register,

council records, HMRC

or any other official list.

I mean, there's nothing
on the PNC either,

nor social media.

I'm going back to see Polly.

Didn't you say he'd just bought
a house in Shipton Abbott?

Maybe talk to the solicitors
who did the conveyancing.

Righty ho. Oh, and the engine driver
said something

about debris on the line
which made the train slow down.

Maybe check out what that was.
It might be significant.

The problem is,

the why can sometimes lead you
to finding a who

and then eventually how,

or a how can sometimes
point you to a who

and then a why.

But we haven't got a why.

I'm not even sure if we've got a how.

The autopsy said
the knife pierced a lung.

But where was the blood around the
body? What are we missing?

Everything, by the sound of it.

We've had the press outside all morning.

HO think we might need
to do a press conference.

Mm. A public appeal might be
an option

if we can't find out more

about Paul Yellen.
True.

Did we check his home?

Yeah, we sent a team there.
The house was empty.

They got in and did a quick search.

Nothing of note found.

Then maybe we should take another look.

Come along, Sergeant.

Couple of letters,

a logbook and a new credit card.

Nothing upstairs,

but it's clear only one bedroom
is being used.

Yes, down here is pretty much the same.

Ready meals...

for one.

One mug, one plate.

Everything is pretty basic.

No family photos,

nothing personal at all,
as far as I can see.

Seems he had a very lonely life.

KELBY: Here's my mobile number.

If he turns up again, call me.

HUMPHREY: Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?

KELBY: Not sure.
What are you thinking?

That whoever was watching

from across the street
wasn't watching Polly -

he was watching Paul Yellen.

I was just about to say that.

MARGO: OK,

so I spoke to the solicitor
who dealt with the house.

Paul Yellen didn't buy it.

He inherited it from the previous owner,

a Mrs, uh, Sarah Scarcroft,

who left everything to Yellen
in her will.

Find out what Paul Yellen was
to her, please, Margo.

Yeah.
KELBY, what do we know

about the man
who was watching the house?

Er, sir, er, medium height,
er, wearing a woolly hat.

It's not much.

What about the woman he was seen with?

Same.

Without the hat.
PHONE RINGS

Shipton Abbott police station.

Just a second.

HUSHED: Chief Superintendent Woods.

Ma'am!

Good evening, Selwyn.
DUCK QUACKS.

Saved you a treat. DUCK QUACKS.

Stole it from Margo's desk.
REPLYING QUACK.

Psst!

Selwyn?

Over here!

Oh.

Hello.

Oh!

Um, what are we doing?

He's in there.

Who is?
Oliver.

I saw a man in the window.

She must have sneaked him in.

Why would she sneak him in

when she's already told us he's coming?

Well, she didn't introduce me -
that's as good as sneaking.

Oh, you stay here.
I'm going over.

Uh, to do what?

To do what?

SHE CLEARS HER THROAT

Hello.

Can I borrow a cup of sugar?

And some bread.

RUSTLlNG.

And a light bulb.

Anything else?

I know he's in there.

So?

Why are you hiding him?
I'm not.

He was dropped off by taxi,

walked through the front door

and he's now sitting in the lounge

with a rum and Coke. Well, let me
in, then. So you can grill him

like he's one of Humphrey's suspects?

Absolutely not!

Fine.

But if he murders you,
don't come crying to me.

I won't.

I just think

it's the weirdest job
I've ever worked on.

A m*rder victim...

k*lled while playing
the part of a m*rder victim.

And despite the fact
he was stabbed in the back

forcefully enough to puncture a lung,

there was no blood.

Hmm?
There was no blood!

Not even a trace.

And the worst thing is,
there's so much media interest,

I've got the Chief Superintendent

constantly on my back.

Oh, um, Esther, she's looking
for a job for her daughter.

I said to get her to give you a call.

Martha?

Yes, that's fine.
OK.

CAR APPROACHES

SHE GASPS

There's a car!

FRONT DOOR OPENS

Right on cue.

That was great.
I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Bye now.

I can see you.

Oh, hello!

So, how did it go?

It was fine.

He was perfectly polite, well-mannered,

cleared his plate and
didn't overstay his welcome.

So are you going to see him again?

No.

I got the ick.

Ick? You've got to learn
all the terminology, darling.

"Ick" means you've gone off someone.

He slurped his soup.

That's it?
Oh, that's enough.

Still, there's
plenty more fish in the sea.

Or, as your nan says,

every pot has a lid.

After all, look at you two.

Morning, sir.
We got news on Paul Yellen.

Good.
Except...

he's not Paul Yellen.

His real name is Aidan Scarcroft.

He was Sarah Scarcroft's son,

which is why she left him
her house in her will.

He changed his name
by deed poll before moving

to Shipton Abbott, which
explains the new passport,

logbook and credit card
we found at his house.

Margo's running a check
on his real name now.

There's something else
that's a bit weird, sir.

We spoke to the steam train operator

about the debris on the track
that slowed the train down.

Now, they said there were

no reports of debris
in any of the tunnels.

Then why would they say there was?

LOW CHATTER

There's your tea.

Thank you.

HARRY: Oh, well,
that tunnel is 150 years old.

So, you know,

brickwork falls down
on the track sometimes.

Ah, thank you, love.

We heard of debris falling
just last week.

Thought it best to be careful.

Yes. Why do you ask?

Well, if the train was
specifically told to slow down,

that might be significant.

Someone wanting to get on board
while it was moving, perhaps.

Would you see someone if they had?

I doubt it, you know.

We're quite a ways up front,
so we wouldn't really see

what's going on in the back carriages.

No, no.

It was a bit of a long shot,

um, but always worth asking
the question.

Yeah, sorry I'm not much help.

Ah, she's a beauty, isn't she?

Oh, gosh, yes, yes.

You like your trains, then?
Love them,

particularly steam trains.

Yeah, I think it started

when I watched The Railway Children

for the first time.

Even asked my mum if I could
change my name to Peter.

Well, um, whenever you like,
just ask and I'll take you out.

Gosh, would you?
Mmm.

Maybe I could bring my fiancee?

We're doing date nights.

Oh, it would be a pleasure.

That is amazing.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you.
Cheers, then.

Another dead end.

Yes, but not a wasted journey.

Oh? He's going to let me ride
in his engine - for date night.

Martha's going to love it.

Yeah. I'm sure she will, sir.

OK. Thanks, Margo.

So, Aidan Scarcroft, aka Paul Yellen,

was released from prison two years ago.

He served a 12-year sentence.

Really? For what?

Manslaughter.

He was driving
three times over the limit

and ploughed into a group of people
waiting at a bus stop.

An elderly woman died. Nine others
were injured, some quite badly.

Pull up the file, would you?

And crosscheck the names
of the people involved

to see if we can find any links
to the people on our train? Exactly.

I understand that,

but Inspector Goodman

is an experienced m*rder detective.

He's been making...

No, sir, he's not at the hub.

He's in one of our smaller outposts.

What would you suggest?

PHONE RlNGS.

HE SIGHS

Ma'am? Command have instructed me

to move your investigation into the hub.

Well, no, you can't.
Um, we're making very...

This is not a subject
for discussion, Inspector.

You'll report to the hub
at 9am tomorrow morning

with whatever you have.

We'll set up a m*rder room here.

Right. But I-I... I'm sorry.

This isn't a reflection on you.
Or your team.

Isn't it?



HE SIGHS

OK?

Hmm?

PHONE CLATTERS ON TABLE

HUMPHREY SIGHS

I think I've got it.

The collision at the bus stop -

it happened in High Broughton,
a village just outside Exeter.

One of the worst injured was
an 11 -year-old boy,

Christopher Bishfield.

Bishfield.

There were pictures of Vivienne
and Harry with a young boy

at the house.

Viv and Harry moved here from Exeter!

Mm-hm.

So Vivienne and Harry Bishfield
would have been there

when Aidan Scarcroft turned up
with George to join the Players!

Give me a call when you're done, love.

All right. I will.
OK, love you.

Nice to meet you.

You see, Aidan Scarcroft
was here to start a new life.

He didn't recognise the father
of the boy he injured.

Why would he?

I doubt they ever met.

But even after 12 years,

they'd never forget
the face of the man

who ruined their child's life.

And it was that evening
that Polly Deakins saw

a man standing across the road
from her house.

So he followed Paul Yellen home...

to get revenge?

So...

if Harry Bishfield is our man - how?

I knew there was a reason
this bothered me.

Yes.

The fireman on the train said
he had a call

about debris on the line,
yet when we talked to Harry,

he said he slowed the train
as a precaution.

Then why would the fireman say
they had a call?

Because that's what
his engine driver told him.

KELBY, call the operators.

Ask them what the procedure is
if there's debris

on the line. Sir.

All right?

Harry knew that as they
approached the last tunnel

before Shipton Abbott,

the m*rder mystery suspects

were in the third carriage
being questioned...

To be clear,

the deceased was seen alive and well

at the very moment
the train entered the tunnel.

And that the supposed
victim, Aidan Scarcroft,

would be in the buffet car alone.

So first, he told his fireman

there was a report of debris
on the line ahead.

Examine the line, mate.

OK, mate.

Then what?

OK, so, if they suspect
debris on the line,

the engine driver slows the train

and the fireman moves to the footplate

at the side of the train
to look at the track ahead.

If they're in a tunnel,
they will use a torch.

Yes!

Once Kieran was out of the cab,
Harry slowed the train

and then climbed back across the engine.

He knew exactly how long
they would be in the tunnel.

He quickly made his way
to the buffet car.

THUD
Once done, he had moments

to get back to the engine,

before they reached
the end of the tunnel

and Kieran would notice him missing.

All clear.

That doesn't explain

why there was no blood around the body.

No. No, it doesn't.

But it's enough to bring him in.

He was 11 years old,

standing at the bus stop
with a friend's mum.

They were going into town
to go crab fishing on the quay.

HE CHUCKLES WRYLY

Scarcroft was drunk.

Off his head.

Chris was leaning against the wall

behind the bus stop...

when the car ploughed through everyone

and into that wall.

He didn't have a chance.

His legs were shattered.

He had five years of operations.

He was in constant pain.

Me and his mum watched him
go through all that...

saw how tough it was on him.

How it changed him.

He was never the same, not really.

HE SNlFFS.

That man...

He stole my son's childhood.

The little boy who left
the house that morning...

excited to be meeting his friends...

He never came home.

HE WHISPERS: Never came home.

And how is he now?

He took his own life.

Six years ago.

That's why we moved here.

He'd just turned 19.

SNlFFS.

Your lot said it was su1c1de.

Just another troubled teenager
not coping.

Mm.

But that man,

he k*lled my son...

just as sure as if
he'd have died that morning.

He k*lled him the moment
he came out of the pub

and got behind that wheel.

So, yes...

I k*lled him.

But if you want me to be sorry
for what I did...

I can't.

No, I'm not asking anything of you.

To be honest,
I can't imagine the pain...

and the torment

you and your family
have gone through.

OK, l-let's take a break there.

Um, I'm sure you and your
lawyer will want to discuss

what's been said here.

But I just have one more question.

When you entered the buffet car

and you saw Mr Scarcroft
standing at the food table,

can you think of any reason
we didn't find any blood there?

Was there something
on the floor you disposed of,

or something else?

He wasn't standing.

Sorry?

When I went into the buffet car...

he was laying down on the floor.

Why was he already on the floor?

He must have just got back
into position for Act 3.

How likely is that?

Not very.

We know the cause of death was
the knife puncturing his lung,

and we know who stabbed him and why,

but something just doesn't add up.

We've got the full postmortem back.

Nothing surprising there.

Though there's a marker
in the toxicology report.

I haven't had a chance
to look it up yet.

Look up what?

There were traces
of a substance called curare

in his blood.

Curare?

I - I know that from somewhere.

With a C-U...

I think that's right.

Curare! Ah!

Of course!

There are only two possible reasons

for there to be so little blood found

at the scene of a stabbing so serious.

If the body was k*lled
elsewhere and moved.

And the second one?

If the victim is already dead.

Dead bodies don't bleed.

Yes.

This plaster found on his hand...

did it happen on the train?

Yeah.

When we were doing fittings.

Vivienne?

See how you get on tonight.

I can always let it out a bit more.

Ow!

Sorry.

All right, everyone,
final dress rehearsal.

Next time we do it will be
in front of paying guests...

There was a pin left in the cuff.

I must have forgotten to unpin it.

I've got some plasters.

I - I'll put some antiseptic on,
stop it getting infected.

Why?

Because curare only works

when it's injected
directly under the skin.

So I tend to do running repairs.

Who better than
a biology teacher to know

that curare is made by boiling
the bark of certain plants?

Amazonian tribes used it

to poison darts and arrows when hunting.

It paralyses muscle tissue,

stops the breathing.

I think Aidan Scarcroft
was already dead

when Harry stabbed him.

I knew Harry was planning
on k*lling him.

I didn't know how or when...

but I knew he'd do it.

You found him outside
Aidan's house, didn't you?

What are you doing out here?

You're going to be seen.
What are you doing here?

Leave me!

VIVIENNE:
Just come home with me now

and let's just forget all about this.

No! You know I have to do this!

Please. Just come home.

He wanted to do it that night.

But there's the thing, you see.

I knew I couldn't stop him...

but I knew he'd get caught.

He's a simple man.

You k*lled Aidan Scarcroft

to stop your husband from doing so?

I couldn't think of any other way.

He's had so much pain in his life.

He's a good man.

I couldn't see him in prison.

How could I?

And yet you'd risk
the same thing for yourself?

I don't have a life.

Not any more.

My life ended
the day I buried my baby boy.

Everyone tells you,
"Just take it a day at a time."

So that's what I do.

Go through the motions.

You have to switch off, you see,

because every morning when you wake up,

the pain just comes back.

Never free of it.

So do what you want with me.

I won't feel anything.

So now we know why he was on the floor

when Harry found him.

The poison did its work

while the rest of us
were in the next carriage.

I think he was dead
before he hit the floor.

PAUL GRUNTS

Harry found Paul Yellen face dawn on
the floor and naturally assumed

he'd simply taken up his position
as m*rder victim, making it easy

to plunge the knife into the back of
the man he held responsible

for the death of his son.
Then he returned to the engine

before his fireman noticed
he had gone.

And as he was already dead,
his heart had stopped pumping.

He didn't bleed out.
Exactly.

Paul Yellen was a man
who was m*rder*d twice.

SOBBlNG WITHlN.

MUFFLED SOBBlNG.

Sometimes I really hate my job.

I know.

What will happen to her?

Well, that depends on the CPS

and who they deem responsible

for Aidan Scarcr0ft's death.

I'll tell the Chief Super the good news.

So I spoke to Esther's daughter.

Oh, Zoe!

She'll start next week,

see how we get on.

Great.

Wait, what are we doing here?

Surprise.

So our mystery date night
is looking at a train?

A steam train!

And minus the m*rder this time -

hopefully.

Quick tour and a few photos,
then I'll buy you dinner. Promise.

And, look, isn't it amazing?

SHE LAUGHS
Yes, it is!

Thank you for letting us do this,
especially given the circumstances.

No worries.
Yes.

Probably know your way around by now.

Yes.

Kieran will tell you
all about the boiler.

Great.

I was telling the inspector

it was my grandad who got me started.

Now I'll be starting
my driver's exam next month.

Is it supposed to be moving?

I...

Humphrey!

Um...

Humphrey!

Um, call the restaurant!

Tell them we might be a bit late!

HE LAUGHS GLEEFULLY

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

Did you know Belle and Martha
were seeing a medium last night?

Fire. Stop the car!
Let me just park.

That's my house. Believe it or not,
she apparently predicted the fire.

You think it was deliberate, don't you?
Yes, I do.

Martha and I are applying to be
foster parents.

She said we seem like ideal candidates.

She has to talk to Humphrey as well,
of course. Oh.

How did it go? Terribly.

BRAKES SCREECH

Two predictions that have come true.

You clearly have no understanding
at all of what it is I do.

And what is it that you do?

There's a young man here. Don't!