02x04 - Blood Will Out

[bunniefuu]

[Birds chirping]

[Motor puttering]

[ Horn honks]

Are you interested in my carrot thinnings, young Fairfax?

Always, Tilly.

I'll get Felicity to pull them. Can't stop.

Thank God for small mercies.

Orville Tudway?

Summer is a-coming in.

Whoa.

You watch your feet there now.

Hello there, Peter. Hello, Orville.

You're looking as prosperous as ever, I see.

[Laughing ] Hey! Get off.

Oh, um, listen. I've got something for you.

Oh? Good or bad?

I don't know. It's a letter. Came just before Easter.

What do you reckon? A tax return?

Sorry, I'm late, Mr. Fairfax. My alarm.

Steffan, there's a gray envelope on the left of the counter.

Fetch it for us, will you? There's a good lad.

So...

Staying long?

Well, couple of weeks.

You, um, got anything special lined up?

I might have.

Oh, thanks. There you go.

See you're still as nosy as ever, Peter.

You, uh -- You keep this Saturday free.

Bad news?

For someone, yeah.

You do know I'm dreading this, don't you?

Of course you are, Dad. You're an Englishman.

Now, no picking on the shop assistant.

I like 'em. I'll take these.

Hang on a sec.

[Whispering ] Could you see if you do them in a larger size?

Mm.

Where's he going?

Dad, stop panicking. No one's gonna see you in here.

And yes, they're very nice.

JOYCE: So they should be.

Turn around.

Mrs. Barnaby. Cully.

Hi, Gavin. Hello.

What do you reckon? Very nice, sir.

I'm afraid we don't do them in a larger size, madam.

Oh, hi, Gavin. How are you?

All right, mate.

That's it. Marks and Spencer's.

They've stood by me all these years.

I shall now return the compliment.

Canteen lunches? Ah...

Diet. I'll design it.

Gavin, you make sure he sticks to it.

Oh, I get the easy job, do I?

You want to get your mum to buy you a car, Fleur.

This thing's had its day.

Well, she would. It's Hector.

Yeah, well, he always had long pockets.

Pass me the plug spanner, will you?

You know she's watching us, don't you?

WILL: You'd better get home.

[Motor puttering]

I've been asking you to mend this washing machine for three weeks now.

It needs a special part. Haven't got 'round to buying it.

She snaps her fingers, you reach for your toolbox.

I'll nip into Causton now if you like.

Only if it's convenient.

Oh, for God's sake, what do you want?

I want some of your precious time, Will.

You give her enough of it.

What, are you jealous or something?

Of Fleur?

Get the service bloke to fix the machine, will you?

He charges 40 quid call-out. We can't afford it.

Oh, so now we're poor as well?

Well, I'm sorry, Muriel. I can't turn the clock back.

You'll just have to settle for what you've got.

[ Knocks]

Oh, if that's her again, I'll...

Muriel. Will. Great to see you again.

Bad moment?

[Honking]

Same horse?

Older and wiser. How about you two?

If I knew you were coming, Orville, I'd have got something special in for supper.

Oh, don't worry about that. I'll do supper.

Oh, by the way, I've got some friends visiting this week.

Is it all right if I put them up here?

How many?

Oh, just...one or two.

Good party? -It was okay.

I'm starving.

Was she out all night?

Yes, dear. She's 18.

What's her age got to do with it?

She still needs a firm hand.

Did somebody speak?

By the way, Orville's back.

Really, dear?

Put everything that moves under lock and key.

Especially your daughter.

I almost believed you.

Did you, darling?

"Orville's back." "Really, dear?

How could that possibly be of interest to me?"

Don't worry, Mum.

I don't begrudge you a bit of fun.

Now...America.

What about America?

Would now be a good time to discuss the money I need to get there?

If I didn't know you better, Fleur, I'd say you were blackmailing me.

What is that smell, Joyce? It's awful.

What are you dressed up like that for?

The interview, Dad. The TV commercial.

Oh, yes, yes.

Every day starts with it, Tom.

Its cabbage soup.

[Doorbell rings]

You can have as much as you like.

-[ Door opens] That's what I was afraid of.

Morning, Gavin. Wish me luck.

Good luck. Why? Oh, Dad'll explain.

Meanwhile, it's a fruit day today.

As much as he likes, only no bananas.

Oh. I feel a song coming on.

What news from the front?

Big stuff, sir.

Hector Bridges -- the magistrate -- he called the chief constable this morning to report a stolen goose.

[Geese honking]

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven -- seven, eight -- one...

How many did you say there were again, Mrs. Bridges?

Well, there should be 16.

FLEUR: You haven't got enough fingers.

Here, borrow mine.

Maybe it just flew away, sir.

They can't fly. Their wings have been clipped.

No, the bird was stolen, Inspector, by that man over there.

Orville Tudway.

Didicoy. Vagrant.

Traveler. Call him what you like.

All boils down to the same thing.

Thief.

Can they walk, sir?

Thieves? Geese.

Well, of course they can walk.

Oh. Well...

It's an invasion.

Well, it's just a couple of vans, sir.

These people are like rats, Barnaby.

If you can see one, it means there are 10 more close by that you can't.

Morning to you, sir.

Troy.

[indistinct talking]

There you go. Thanks.

Cheers, Orville.

WILL: Please, can we -- MURIEL: No! No!

WILL: They are not doing any harm!

TOM: Mr. Tudway? Good morning.

Would you be kind enough to tell me --

And who the hell are you?!

Police, madam. I'm Detective Chief --

Well, good. You can throw them off our land!

Hey, you! Stop that! Put them back!

Muriel, I say they can stay!

And you are? Will Saxby.

This is my house, my land, and I say --

[Horn honking]

Hi!

I say they can stay.

Freddy!

Park it up over there by the fence, mate.

One or two friends you said. Not one or two dozen.

But I can vouch for them all, Muriel.

They're honest.

They're courteous. They're clean.

Sorry, Inspector. Would I be kind enough to what?

Tell me what you had for dinner last night.

Are you sure you're a policeman?

Roast goose. And very nice it was too.

Fabulous cook, Orville is.

Roast potatoes, parsnips, a few runner beans.

And my speciality for afters. Bread-and-butter pudding.

Hector Bridges has lost a goose.

I say you nicked it.

No.

TOM: What, then?

It just sort of flew into my arms and died.

This is not a good day to be cute with me.

One moment, Inspector.

You lot! Now, cut it out!

Someone's gonna get hurt.

Hector Bridges.

You may not like him, but that doesn't --

Nobody likes him, Inspector.

He's the most hated man in the village.

It's why someone tried to k*ll him, no doubt.

I'm sorry?

Someone tried to m*rder him.

[Horse snorts]

Keep your reins down, Charlie.

How many times do I have to tell you?

When was this? Six or seven years ago.

I'd have thought you'd have known that.

It's a bit before my time.

[indistinct shouting]

Oh, and please don't think me unsociable, but when will you be leaving?

Sunday week.

Inspector!

Move these people on. They've no right to be here.

I'm afraid they have, Miss Dinsdale.

They're on private land with the owner's permission.

What about the others? By the church.

Whose permission have they got?

Go away!

Did you notice the wife, Troy?

Muriel?

Not half bad, sir, given her age.

A lot to say for herself till someone mentioned the attempt on Hector Bridges' life.

Thereafter, silence.

Something else, sir.

Orville nicking that goose.

It's like he was sticking two fingers up at Hector.

Yeah, taunting him. I wonder why.

[Child crying]

Here's another brick in the wall of your education, Troy.

Observe.

Smith!

TROY: Oh, the Smith clan, I take it.

They're not really all called Smith.

It just makes prosecuting them damn near impossible.

Oh, this is Michael Smith.

Burglary, car theft, and, of course, trespass.

None of it proved, Mr. Barnaby.

I was just explaining to my sergeant why that is so.

Oh, and this young lady is Rachel Smith, who is Michael Smith's sister.

How are you, Mr. Barnaby?

I'm fine, thank you, Rachel.

Now, I won't beat about the bush.

When are you leaving?

Sunday week.

Now, there's a coincidence.

The very same day that Orville Tudway and his friends are leaving.

What's going on?

Mr. Barnaby.

Long time no see?

And this is John Smith.

A master at deceiving gullible yuppies, so you'd better watch out, Troy.

I traded that car on in all good faith.

A car which used to be two cars.

All in the past though, eh?

I'm back now in the bosom of my family.

So, what do you reckon, grandad?

Well, Mr. Barnaby hasn't got much to spare, has he?

As for the boy...

A bit kinky.

Kinky? What do you mean?

Shh-shh-shh. Troy.

Now, listen, you lot.

I want no thieving, no fighting, and no dumping of rubbish on England's green and pleasant land.

Is that clear?

I take that silence to mean yes.

What does he mean, kinky?

I'm not kinky.

What are they up to, Troy?

Horse trading? Big punch-up?

Bit of thieving?

With respect, sir, all we came out for was a P.R. job on Hector Bridges.

I can understand someone wanting to k*ll him.

But to actually have a crack at it is something else.

I think we're on a wild goose chase, sir.

Hmm!

One of us had to say it, Troy.

I guessed that it would be you.

Hector Bridges, Troy, was run over seven years ago, rather convincingly.

Much damage to the car?

They interviewed Peter Fairfax. Runs the village shop.

"No further action taken."

Here's a curious thing.

Bridges was found by his wife, whose name was Muriel.

Same as Mrs. Saxby.

Lunch, sir.

I've cut the apples up to make them look like chips.

[Telephone rings]

Barnaby.

TILLY: They're still there, Mr. Barnaby.

Who's still where, and who are you?

TILLY: The travelers by the church.

Tilly Dinsdale.

One of the children threw chewing gum at my car as I drove past.

I thought I asked you to move them on.

It is common land, Miss Dinsdale.

They've every right to be there.

We'll see about that.

It hit my windscreen.

What did? The chewing gum.

And I made the fatal mistake of putting the wiper thingies on.

Blades, dear.

If we're not careful, those oiks are gonna pinch our livestock.

Hector will see them off.

No, Tilly. Hector will only make it worse.

He's that kind of man.

Everything he touches turns to misery.

Am I the only one in this village with any time for him?

You could well be.

Well, thank you for your advice, Peter.

But Hector is an honest man.

-[ Dialing] And he gets things done.

Hector? Tilly Dinsdale.

Got a problem.

-[ Door closes] TOM: Evening, all!

JOYCE: Hello! CULLY: Hi.

How was the interview?

Fine, thanks. Got the job.

You don't seem very pleased about it.

It's a TV commercial, Dad. For what?

Tissues.

Oh, good.

Cabbage soup.

[Snoring]

[Snoring]

[Telephone rings]

Yes?

WOMAN: Mr. Barnaby, I'm sorry to wake you, but this really is an emergency.

Well, you dial three nines.

What is it?

It's not that sort of emergency.

It's to do with the travelers at Martyr Warren.

Who is this?

Hector Bridges is getting some old friends together.

They're coming to the house.

They're going to tow the travelers out of the village.

How many friends?

I don't know. I'm sorry.

You must stop them.

Wait here.

TOM: "Old friends," the caller said.

In Hector's case, that must mean army.

Load of squaddies?

Bloody hell, sir. We need backup.

Don't worry, Troy.

Hector is a bully, pure and simple.

All we need to fight him is a bit of brains.

Another brick in the wall of my education, sir?

I suggest we do it in two stages.

The lot down by the church first.

Move them north.

Then come back for Tudway and his friends.

I said we needed backup, sir.

We have, Troy. We've got each other.

[Doorbell rings]

One of your men?

No, no. No.

Told them to stay in the Land Rovers.

Good news about your missing goose, Colonel.

May we come in?

You are aware of the time, Barnaby?

Well, you're up and about. Why shouldn't we be?

In here, is it? No.

Name, rank, and number.

This is Major Harry Tomkinson, retired.

A friend of mine.

Who too has friends, parked up in your drive.

What's going on, Hector? Mr. Barnaby, what are you doing?

HECTOR: None of your business. Go back to bed.

Keen sportsman, are you, Colonel?

Doesn't look very sporting to me, that.

You obviously know what's afoot, Barnaby.

Time for a blind eye, wouldn't you say?

Not that kind of copper.

I like to poke my nose into everything.

Dangerous game.

Don't you rattle any sabers at me, Major.

I'd like your friends out of this village in five minutes.

If not, I'll summon an armed response unit.

They can be here in 20.

And you can play rounders with them.

Do as he says, Harry.

[Door closes]

Who tipped you off, Barnaby?

They didn't leave their name.

Man or woman?

[Exhales sharply] Hard to tell these days.

Be it on your head if that scum causes any trouble.

For God's sake, man!

You're supposed to be a magistrate.

Don't you lecture me.

All right.

I'll leave that to the lord chancellor, to whom this matter will be reported.

And that brings me back to the business of your goose.

I'd say it'd been well and truly cooked.

All right, lads. Gig's off.

[Men groaning]

In the back.

You just took on a whole platoon, sir.

With your help, Troy. With your help.

Mind you, if the armed response unit's only 20 minutes away.

Yeah. Pity we haven't got one.

Have they gone?

Yes.

A straight answer for once --

Did you or did you not tell the police what was going on?

Don't speak to me like some shoplifter up before the bench.

Loyalty.

That's the one thing I ask of those around me.

And never seem to get!

I notice you didn't lose your rag in front of that nice Mr. Barnaby, Hector.

I'm not afraid of Barnaby. I assure you.

Well, you should be.

He just caught you red-handed in the act of being a bully.

[Sighs]

I'm going to make some tea. Do you want a cup?

Um, yes.

Jenny...

I -- I often think of the fun we used to have together.

You know, parties, old friends, old comrades descending on us.

Your friends, not mine.

I think we should try to retrieve a little of what we had or call it a day.

Now, I'm willing to give the former serious consideration if -- if -- if you are.

[Sighs]

I think it's a bit late for all that, Hector.

Don't you?

[Dog barking]

Did they fly into your arms and die just like the goose did?

These are Peter Fairfax's best sausages.

And as you know, pigs don't fly.

Talking of which, who called the police last night?

I did. Thank you.

My mother's idea, though.

She seems to take a great interest in your welfare for some reason.

Well, perhaps you'd like to thank her for me too.

Here, have a sausage. I've done too many.

[Horse neighs]

When you've done whatever you came here to do, what are you gonna do then?

When I've done whatever I came here to do, what am I going to do then?

Oh, I see what you mean. I don't know.

You must have some plan, surely.

Kent, probably. Spot of fruit picking.

It's a lousy job, but all the strawberries you can eat.

And after that, if the weather holds, we might nip across to Ireland.

At which point it will chuck it down, of course.

What are your plans?

America. If Hector'll cough up.

Now, that's what I call a big "if."

It doesn't have to be there.

It could be China, India, the North Pole.

I just want to get away from here.

I remember that feeling.

If Hector doesn't cough up, perhaps I could come with you.

Now, just hang on a second.

Why not? I'm tougher than I look.

Well, you may well be tough, but that's not the point.

I don't mean specifically with you.

I mean with all of you.

I know what you meant. Well, why not?

I did you a favor, calling the police.

You may well dislike him, but something of Hector has rubbed off on you, Fleur.

He always kept a little ledger of obligations.

"I did this for you, so you do that for me."

That's how he lost all his friends.

I'm sorry.

Why can't you join us?

It's simple.

'Cause none of us are actually going anywhere, but you should be.

We're all just marking time, waiting for fate to step in and change things.

Even you?

Especially me.

[ Cheering, indistinct shouting]

TOM: So, what are we going to do today, then?

Blenheim Palace, I thought. The butterfly house.

-[ Doorbell rings] Hmm.

I shall probably eat them, but yes, terrific.

TROY: Mrs. B. JOYCE: Morning.

Go away, Troy.

Wish I could, sir.

It's the didicoys. They've gone berserk.

TOM: Berserk? Whose word is that?

TOM: Berserk? Whose word is that?

TROY: Hector Bridges. He rang the duty officer.

Oh.

It's a chicken and tomato day, by the look of it.

TROY: Just when you were getting fond of apples.

[Inhales sharply]

TOM: Not a punch-up, not a horse fair, but a chariot race.

Leave the car.

[ Beeps, doors lock]

[indistinct talking]

You want a lift?

Why didn't you tell me about this?

Because you'd have tried to stop it.

I Still might.

And start a riot? You're not that daft.

We could always summon the armed response unit, sir.

[Folk music playing]

Big race, 3:00, Inspector.

Put a fiver on us.

[indistinct talking]

I warned you they'd cause trouble, Barnaby.

Oh, I was thinking about what you told me.

About turning a blind eye?

Doesn't seem such a bad idea, does it?

Can I quote you on that, Inspector?

You can carve it in stone, Miss Dinsdale.

I shall still deny it.

You heard from the Lord Chancellor yet?

[Chuckles]

You know, Barnaby, I thought you were one of us.

I've watched you in court.

Solid, reliable, commanding respect.

And now here you are pandering to the dregs.

Oh, don't be so pompous, Hector.

Come along, Tilly.

You and I will not grace this rabble with our presence.

We certainly won't, Hector.

Stay if you must, Felicity. I've got a farm to run.

You run along, dear.

Peter! Where have you been?

[Smooches]

£5 on the Smith team.

Fiver on Mr. Mooch, please.

What the hell do you want?

A letter arrived for me just before Easter.

It was written by an old comrade of ours.

John Lamson.

Wrote it just before he died.

Read it.

Don't chuck your weight around in my house, Captain.

Read it!

MAN ON P.A.: Contestants to the starting place.

Ready! Set! Go!

-[ g*nsh*t] -[ People cheering]

[g*nsh*t]

[Cheering continues]

Come around! What's the matter with you?!

For God's sake!

[Cellphone rings]

Yes?

Shot once in the chest within the last hour.

3:15 according to the woman who found him -- Muriel Saxby.

TOM: No w*apon. Just a box of cartridges.

The wife thinks there may be a g*n missing.

Well, you'd better find it.

Why would a man take off his belt just before someone sh**t him, huh?

Tom, is Jenny, okay?

I know her slightly.

Who's Jenny? Bridges' wife.

I thought her name was Muriel.

Whatever her name is, sir, she'd like to see you.

Join me?

No, thank you.

One thing I am not, Inspector, is a humbug.

Whoever shot him has done Fleur and me a favor.

Where is Fleur?

She's over at the Saxbys'.

You wanted to see me.

Yes.

I think his k*ller stole a wine cooler.

One item? Why didn't they take the lot?

'Cause Hector disturbed them. They shot him and legged it.

What, carrying a heavy wine cooler?

You or I would've dropped it.

Yeah, but it's 200 years old and weighs in at 40 grand on the insurance.

You phoned at quarter past 3:00 Mrs. Saxby.

You phoned at quarter past 3:00 Mrs. Saxby.

Yes. I didn't go to the chariot race.

I heard the shot.

As I ran over to the house, I saw a man dash out of the study windows, across the lawn.

Carrying a g*n?

Yes.

TROY: Anything else?

Yes, he was carrying something else.

Something close to his chest.

I can't remember what it was.

What was he like?

Um...

Dark clothes.

Brown hair.

Tall.

Oh, young, I'd say.

This is the second time someone's tried to k*ll Hector Bridges.

You reported it the first time it happened seven years ago.

When you were married to him.

And you, Mr. Saxby, were married to Jenny Bridges.

Which makes you Fleur's father.

It's no secret.

You could have asked anyone in the village.

Yeah, I'm just showing off.

And while I'm at it -- Fleur, thank you very much for the tip-off about Hector and his friends the other night.

How do you know it was me?

"Hector's getting his friends together," you said.

"They're coming to the house."

Anyone who didn't live in the house would have said, "They're going the house."

You've been very quiet, Mr. Tudway.

Perhaps, like me, you wonder if, amongst all these marital high jinks, there's not a motive for m*rder.

By the way, I'd like you and your people to stay on for a bit.

First you can't wait to get rid of us, and then --

Then someone gets m*rder*d.

Do you own a shotgun?

Those two remarks are not related...necessarily.

[Clattering]

No g*n, sir. And no wine cooler.

Yes. Very neat, isn't it?

Well, that comes from living in a confined space.

On the other hand, order, tidiness can be a way of life.

They're very nice.

I do believe I have found the link between you and Hector Bridges.

I've been on the lookout for one ever since your most perceptive remark, Troy.

Which one, sir?

Nicking the goose.

It's as if Orville was taunting him, you said.

Arm'!-

That's what you and Hector Bridges have in common.

Well, are you going to tell us more about that, or do I have to get it from the Ministry of Defense?

For a start, why did you take to the road?

That story varies depending on who I'm telling it to.

Troy, I'll search the other vans here.

You take the Smith mob.

Hang on a minute. Why do you want us to split up?

What's the matter? It's division of labor.

Oh, I see.

And the moment my [Jack's turned, you won't wolf down that Mars bar?

Troy, I am now a police officer investigating a m*rder.

What Mars bar?

The one in the glove compartment that you thought I hadn't noticed.

Oh, damn.

[Child crying]

Where you going?

Why? Do I need your permission?

He's just looking out for you, girl, that's all.

Well, there's no need.

Bloke. Works in the village shop.

Taking me to the pictures, okay?

No, it isn't.

TROY: Oi! You lot.

My boss wants you to stay on for a bit.

So he can fit us up with a m*rder?

Look, if I had my way, there'd be coppers swarming all over you for the next month.

What is the price of silver these days?

No idea. - I'll bet.

I want a look in your van.

Search warrant?

She's right.

You should have a search warrant.

I et it. Kinky, eh?

And thick.

Nice color, though. Mm.

Don't you push it, mate.

Step aside.

TOM: Hello, Cully. Hi.

You got a sore nose? Eh?

Blowing it all day. The tissue advert.

Oh. Sorry, yeah. A bit.

No dinner for me, thanks, Mum. Oh, okay.

Dad, this -- this m*rder in Martyr Warren.

If you haven't done so already, you'll come across a bloke called Steffan Miller.

He works in the village shop.

For Peter Fairfax?

Whoever.

I was at school with him, and I always thought he was a really good bloke.

Except for a year ago he had a spot of bother with Hector Bridges, after which...

What?

After which he swore he'd k*ll him.

Morning, Inspector. What can I get you?

The name of Hector Bridges' k*ller, if you have it.

FAIRFAX: [Chuckles]

I don't stock needles, I'm afraid.

Especially the ones with a haystack attached.

You're right. Could be anyone.

A traveler. One of the punters at the races.

TROY: And half the village seems to have borne him a grudge.

Which is where you come in.

What?

Well, I don't think I follow you.

You're the village shopkeeper.

What you don't know about your neighbors' business isn't worth a light.

For example, the Saxby-Bridges marriage-go-round.

Tell me about that.

There's nothing to tell. Straight swap.

What, no losers, no bitterness?

You know, I'm not really the gossip you take me for.

What about the lad who works for you?

Steffan Miller.

Oh, he's an ordinary young man. He's a bit lazy.

TOM: Look!

You and I may be destined to have a long and complex relationship, Mr. Fairfax.

Please don't begin it with a lie.

Well, Steffan, well, he borrowed a motorbike.

Stole it. January last year.

Look, if you know, why do you ask me?

Hector Bridges sent him down for three months.

And when he came out, you took him under your wing.

You must be mad.

Oh, come on. Come on, Troy. Be fair.

It was a first offense.

It wasn't as if he'd run over anyone.

Oh, I see.

You're here to dig all that up again, are you?

I think somebody tried to k*ll Hector Bridges seven years ago.

Maybe that same person tried again yesterday and succeeded.

A car like mine was seen traveling the same road.

That was the only evidence against me, and no charge was ever brought, as I'm sure you know.

Where will I find Steffan Miller?

That meek and mild shopkeeper, Troy, had more on his mind than the price of eggs.

I still think we should have put the old thumbscrews on the didicoys.

Yeah, I know you do.

But there was no sign of a break-in at Hector's, no sign of a struggle.

I think he was k*lled by someone he knew.

Besides which, if I'm wrong, we've got to round up all those people at the chariot race and go head-to-head with 50 -- 50 -- travelers.

TROY: What about this bloke Muriel saw running away?

Says she saw running away.

Young, tall, brown haired, she said.

We'll look 'round the cottage on our own, then, shall we?

That was an odd thing to do -- run away like that.

Force of habit. When you see a police officer?

I'm also Cully's father.

She says that you're a really good bloke, even though you swore to your friends that you'd "get" Hector Bridges.

Yesterday he was well and truly "got."

Oh, good riddance. Not by me, though.

You had good cause.

TROY: He gave you three months for a minor crime.

You lost your job because of it.

Trouble is we've got a description of someone running away from the scene, and that could so easily be you.

It could even be your visitor.

What visitor? This visitor.

[Stammers]

Why does no one want to talk to us?

They can't all have m*rder*d Hector Bridges.

Nice place. Oh.

Needs a sweep, of course.

Where is she? TOM: Where's who?

I'm warning you.

You stay away from her, or you'll live to regret it.

Just a minute. Stay out of this, copper.

The pair of you. What is your problem?

I am, Mr. Barnaby.

Come on, Rachel. Work to do.

These are not our sort of people, Rachel.

What, are they too good for us or not good enough?

Just different.

He's different to you, all right.

Plus, you left us with all the work, girl.

Work? What -- What sort of work?

That's our business.

Michael, someone was m*rder*d in the village yesterday.

That's nothing to do with us.

And at that point everything became my business.

So, what work?

We do paths. Tarmac.

Our card, governor. Smith Surfaces.

Michael is managing director. I am a major investor.

You bought the shovel, did you?

Where do you figure in all this, Rachel?

Good worker is this girl. One of our best.

One of our only.

Talk to you later, Steff.

You will not. Michael, get off.

John, John. Mm?

Keep Michael away from here.

And don't come here yourself.

Understood? Oh.

Steffan, the Smiths are dangerous people to cross.

You and Rachel -- They won't stand for it.

[Metal clinking]

[Metal clinking]

All right, I will let you start. Even though you did get an One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

[Tiles clicking]

Okay.

Fancy a game, Tilly?

Oh, um...

Thanks all the same, no. It's been a long day.

Piggies all right, dear?

Fine.

Tilly.

I do know how you felt about Hector.

I am sorry.

Oh, yes, me too, dear.

Thank you, Peter.

I shall miss him.

FAIRFAX: Where's the "Y" go in "vinyl"?

-[ Tiles clicking] Hold on. It's better.

There's a So was there ever any, you know, romance, between Hector and Tilly?

I've only got vowels. Poor you.

A thingy, you mean?

Good heavens, no. I wouldn't have allowed it.

You smile, dear, because like everyone else you see Tilly as my guardian.

It's really the other way 'round.

That's 30.

Come on, Filly, darling. Can't be all night.

[Sighs]

So, you'd have stepped in, would you?

Broken it up?

I would have done anything.

Now someone has spared me the task.

I wonder if we know them.

Hector's k*ller? Oh, I'm sure we do.

Point is, how well?

Anyone in mind, my dear?

Besides me, that is?

Yes.

I think that nice Mr. Barnaby k*lled him.

I just can't prove it. [ Laughs]

14.

Pathetic.

[Gate clanks]

[Clanks]

What are you doing?! Didn't you hear it?

What, dear? The gates to the pigsties.

I think we're being rustled!

Come on! Give me a hand! Hurry up!

Don't go yet. Wait a minute.

[Pig squealing]

TILLY: Hurry up, rather. Did you see?

FELICITY: No, I didn't see anything.

[squealing]

[indistinct talking]

Come on, girls.

[squealing]

Where are they?

Peter!

Look!

Let 'em have it. Got it.

Aah!

Got him! Come on!

Morning, Cully. Hi, Gavin.

Mrs. B. Morning.

Good morning, sir.

Today is raw vegetable day, Troy.

So if you're gonna crack any jokes, do so now.

Get it over with.

Dad, it's not his fault you're on a diet.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Low blood sugar.

Cheer me up, Troy, with something I can use against Peter Fairfax.

That nice shopkeeper from Martyr Warren?

Do you know him? Yes.

He took over when Mrs. Bates died.

Must be seven years ago, now.

That's when Hector was run over.

I should be hearing this from you, Troy, not from my wife.

I've been banging my head against the Ministry of Defense, sir.

Hector Bridges and Orville both served in the Falklands, after which Orville resigned his commission.

Grew his hair and took to the road, eh?

Disenchantment? Or an offer he couldn't refuse?

Kicked out, more like. Get back to them. Get details.

What do you think is our main stumbling block, then, Troy?

Too many people glad to see the back of Hector Bridges.

Right.

No one dishing the dirt on his enemies.

[Cellphone rings]

Oh.

Yeah?

Yes, Miss Dinsdale. We're on our way.

TOM: This may come as a surprise to you, Miss Dinsdale -- and to you, Miss Dinsdale - but you are not allowed to sh**t people.

Even if they're stealing from you?

Even if they're stealing from you.

Ah! Where's the g*n?

Peter put it back in the rack, dear.

Peter? Who he? Peter Fairfax.

Filly's gentleman caller, as it were.

He thingied one of them. I'm sure of it.

Winged him, dear.

TOM: How many sh*ts did he fire?

Four.

Tilly, would you kindly show my sergeant exactly where it happened?

I want all four cartridge cases, please, Troy.

[ Door opens]

-[ Door closes] Who's the Scrabble fiend, then?

Peter and me.

Your sister seems to have been quite a fan of Hector Bridges.

Fancied him like mad when we were younger.

But I'm afraid he only had eyes for me.

He was an incredibly handsome man.

Who, Hector Bridges? Yeah.

But it cut no ice with you?

Certainly not. Hector was a bully.

And in my humble opinion, sh**ting was too good for him.

I mean it, Inspector.

There was something of the night about Hector it might pay you to examine.

What does he want them for, Sergeant?

To be honest, Miss Dinsdale, I'm not quite sure.

Check these with the one we found at Hector's.

You think it came from this g*n?

On a chilly night, Troy, Peter Fairfax gets his cocoa here.

And more.

[Groans] You mean they're at it?

I didn't inquire, Troy.

But you heard what they said.

He went straight to the cupboard, took the g*n out.

No qualms about using it. So?

So, what if he borrowed it last week and shot Hector Bridges with it?

Where's Will Saxby work?

He's head forester, Causton Woods.

Sir.

I told them to stay away from Steffan's.

You want to go back?

No.

[ Knocking]

Thought we should have a quiet word.

About what? Rachel.

Can I come in?

Yeah, sure.

They're all looking at you, Troy, thinking, "How the hell did he manage that?"

As, indeed, am I.

TOM: If my daughter had been abused by a Hector Bridges, I might have wanted to k*ll him.

WILL: It would be a strange man who didn't.

How did you find out?

In every village, Mr. Saxby, there's always someone who knows all your business.

When did it start?

WILL: Fleur told me about it four years ago, when she was 14.

So if I k*lled him because of that, makes me very slow to anger.

Well, maybe you were waiting for an opportunity.

[indistinct talking]

Intuitive woman, your wife.

Senses you're in trouble and comes a-running.

Anything wrong?

I was asking him if he'd k*lled Hector Bridges.

What?

Men -- fathers -- will do anything to avenge their daughters.

And wives to protect their husbands.

You're shielding him, aren't you?

That story about the boy running away.

He knows about the Hector-Fleur business.

Did either of you confront him about it?

Yes. He denied it.

And you thought changing partners would be a doddle.

[Men grunting]

Thanks a lot, lads.

Still, like everybody else, you're not sorry that Hector Bridges is dead.

To be honest, Inspector, we feel a sense of relief.

Things will change now.

They certainly will.

Especially if one of you goes to prison.

Sooner rather than later. All right.

Orville.

Roast pork. Was that on the menu last night?

What?

Spot of pig rustling down at Tapping Farm.

Only, the pig got away.

I don't know you're talking about, Inspector.

All right, all right. I'll change the subject.

The Falkland Islands. You were there with Hector.

Absolutely.

Tell me more.

We're bound to find out about it eventually.

From the M.O.D?

Blood out of a stone.

If you're not careful, sir, he'll do a runner.

No, I don't think he will.

He's got other things on his mind.

Its biodegradable.

Hello?

Mrs. Bridges?

JENNY: Dining room!

Oh! We're making an inventory for probate.

I'm sorry to barge in.

Oh, that's quite all right. What can I do for you?

I'd like a word with Fleur, if I may, please.

TOM: I hear you're going to America, Fleur.

I'm going to New York to stay with my aunt.

Who told you? Your father.

He was worrying about it -- that he couldn't finance you and Hector wouldn't.

Yes, so I k*lled him, and we all lived happily ever after.

He was more worried about your safety.

You know, young woman alone.

Yes, well, he needn't be.

Oh, I can see that now.

Maybe he thought Hector Bridges had broken your spirit, doing what he did to you.

Yes. That's all in the past.

Oh, no, no. It lives on, this stuff.

Believe me. We hear about it every day.

And those who were abused sometimes themselves become abusers.

That is a dreadful thing to say.

No, it's the truth.

Not that it applies to Fleur, though.

Because Hector never touched you, did he?

Why did you say he did?

To punish him for ousting your father?

Or did you plan to tap into him for something you wanted?

No, no.

[ Door opens]

[Door closes]

Who benefits from Hector's will, Mrs. Bridges?

Muriel gets a third, which bugs me a little, but...

I'll manage on the rest.

So now you can afford to send Fleur to America.

You gonna stay here?

[Inhales slowly ] Yes.

It was Hector I didn't like very much, not his house.

Well, at least she's honest, sir.

Honesty can be as big a smokescreen as deceit, Troy.

Another brick.

Will I be able to see over this wall by the time it's finished?

Of course you will. Education makes you taller.

I think Jenny Bridges was expecting us.

What's that tell you?

Phone call? From Will Saxby?

Oh, there's a thought.

What if the Saxby's and Jenny are in this together, eh?

You'd have to lay off Peter Fairfax, sir.

Ohh. In spite of her honesty, she did tell one lie.

That young lad in the drawing room, making the inventory?

Solicitor's clerk, at a guess. No, no, he wasn't.

He was the son part of Haldane and Son.

Estate agents and auctioneers.

She's selling up, moving on. -[ Cellphone rings]

Sudden decision or part of a long-term plan?

Troy.

Mm-hmm.

Okay, thanks.

There's a mammoth fax back at the office, sir.

Kent C.l.D.

They've dug up something on your friend Fairfax.

What we did not put into this equation was Barnaby and the fact that he might have a brain.

Do you think he knows what happened?

Well, why else does he keep coming back?

More questions. More subtle intimidation.

He doesn't come to us, Jenny. Must be something you're doing.

Does it matter who's to blame?

Oh, well, of course not, but she never misses a chance to score points.

Just as you're always the one to spoil things.

Oh, I don't think that's fair, love.

Who was the driving force behind our well-sniggered-at change of partners?

You? That'll be the day.

This isn't the time or the place.

At least Hector could be fun!

Thank you! Fun? Hector?

Yes, he was!

Until you and your wretched daughter took him over.

He was also a dangerous man.

Which is why we're all stuck in the same boat with that bloody copper getting nearer and nearer!

Good God, Will. You nearly came alive then.

Out of desperation. We've got to do something.

Any ideas?

Well, I've got one.

But it needs putting into practice now.

And I mean right now.

Mr. Fairfax.

Kent C.l.D. say you lived with a Katherine Hamilton for 10 years.

She died in a car crash near Dover seven years ago.

The driver of that car was Hector Bridges.

He was stone-cold sober according to the inquest.

But you knew otherwise.

So you moved down here?

Mm.

Began by just visiting for the odd day.

Suppose he'd recognized you?

No, I hadn't been at the inquest.

I was too upset.

And Kate and I weren't married, so he didn't recognize the surname.

So with all this in your favor, you set about trying to k*ll him.

I can imagine someone in my position wanting to do that, yes.

This is where you become hypothetical, is it?

Why didn't that someone have another go at Hector Bridges later on?

Perhaps, like me, he met someone who...rebuilt his life?

Felicity Dinsdale?

Who owns a g*n with which you are all too familiar.

I didn't k*ll him, Inspector.

Ask Felicity.

I was with her all afternoon on Saturday.

And she wouldn't lie for you?

No, please. Please don't -- don't touch them.

Why not?

[Sighs]

Kate's ashes.

I buried them there.

Ah. That probably is a crime.

Hallowed ground and all that.

Sir.

[Horse neighs]

You want to keep that one for yourself?

You won't shut me up with a load of horse meat, Mickey.

Well, then, what I do to put a smile on your face?

You can make sure I don't wind up dead at 40, worn through to the bloody bone, slaving my guts out for you.

Oh, this Steffan, he's a big provider, is he?

Why don't you let me go, and we'll all find out?

Michael, I am busting a gut trying to keep this m*rder out of your court.

And how do you repay me? With a bit of pig poaching.

We're vegetarians.

Oh, you weren't down there at Tapping Farm -- three of you -- with a pair of bolt cutters last night, then?

RACHEL: Not us, Mr. Barnaby.

Where is he? Where's your grandfather?

In his van, probably.

He's a vegetarian too. What do you want him for?

TOM: John!

I want to know why he called on Steffan Miller when I told him not to.

John!

John?

Are you there?

Get an ambulance. MICHAEL: What's happened?

TOM: Don't touch him. Don't touch anything in here.

TROY: Yeah, we need an ambulance.

Is he okay? No, he's not.

TROY: Martyr Warren.

He's k*lled him.

Not much of a mystery, Tom. From my point of view, anyway.

He's fallen backwards -- been pushed, I reckon -- and hit his head on the corner of the basin.

How long's he been dead?

Two hours, maximum.

Put up quite a struggle before he went, by the look of it.

Here. Oh, thanks.

Tom, are you putting on weight?

Only, I can recommend a very good diet.

Oath lost 20 pounds in three weeks.

Come and see me.

It's the light in here, sir.

Take a look at these.

Look at the workmanship.

The patience that went into making that, eh?

Strange hobby for a man, Troy.

But it does explain me with none to spare and yours being a bit, uh, kinky.

It's made of human hair. Ugh.

Right. You carry on here.

I'll get him to a mortuary.

Sir? TOM: What?

I swear to God it wasn't here last time I searched.

We advance, Troy.

[Animal bleating]

[Dog barking]

Rachel... -[ Crying]

Where's your brother?

He was here a minute ago.

Only, he said something when he saw your grandfather's body.

"He's k*lled him," he said. Who did he mean?

Steffan, I expect.

Troy.

Whoa!

Easy, easy!

TOM: I'll put this down to your grief, for the moment.

What the hell is wrong with him?!

His grandfather has just been m*rder*d.

Oh, my God.

And he thinks you did it.

And came here to tell you to stay away from her.

He came to tell me he didn't want Rachel lugging tarmac the rest of her life, and what was I gonna do about it?

[Grunting]

Okay, Steffan, this is not just about nicking a motorbike.

This is about m*rder.

You were seen running away from the Bridges' house.

Look, I can't have been. I wasn't there.

And like everyone else, you believed that the travelers would be blamed.

And this afternoon you planted the wine cooler in one of the vans to help things along a bit.

Look, I've been in the shop all afternoon. Ask Peter.

Who, then?

Michael, go back to the camp and wait.

Come on.

Come on.

I'm all he's got left.

[Doorbell rings]

TOM: Steffan Miller says that you can give him an alibi.

He was in the shop all afternoon.

Yes. That's true.

But you weren't. We found you in the graveyard.

Hop, skip, and a jump away from John Smith's caravan.

And you are going to get me for something.

How long were you away from the shop?

Oh, I don't know. About 40 minutes.

Look, are you investigating these murders, Inspector, or a car accident seven years ago?

Well, you prove to me they were not linked.

Well, for a gap of seven years? How can they be?

There's an old saying...

Beware the wrath of a patient man.

Oh, yes. I must remember that.

You know, the sadness of all this for me is that I might have been able to help you.

If I'd followed my instinct.

TOM: How's that?

Well, when I heard the shot, I thought, "Shall I pop over?"

It clearly came from Hector's.

I could have spotted the k*ller.

But I thought, "No, it's something to do with that absurd race."

No, the race was over by the time he was k*lled.

No, it was just beginning.

I heard the crowd roar.

And then a moment later...

Bang.

Mr. Saxby. Mrs. Saxby.

Hector Bridges was shot at 3:00.

You said you heard it at 3:15.

I think you've been lying to me.

I must have been mistaken.

You ran across to the Bridges' house.

That takes three minutes. Where is he?

He's in the study. Another minute.

Is he alive? Is he dead? A phone call.

Another minute. That's five minutes at most.

Where are the other 10 minutes?

I don't know. I panicked.

And did you panic when you reported that car accident seven years ago?

What's that supposed to mean?

It means it's odd that your wife was present on both occasions.

Right, you've got the rest of the day to recall these missing 10 minutes.

And it had better be good.

You know another thing that's been nagging away at me, Troy?

The word "taunting."

As in my perceptive remark? Yeah.

Who -- apart from the M.O.D., who don't want to talk to us -- would know why Orville was taunting Hector?

TROY: His old army pals, sir?

Mm. Pick one -- anyone -- at random.

We'll pay him a visit tomorrow.

Okay, relax.

Stay back, Charlie. Lean back, Charlie.

That's it.

Everybody I know lives on the edge of a page.

This Major Lamson is no exception.

Lamson?

That's a long way to go on the off chance.

Phone him up first.

Dad.

Aren't you forgetting something?

[Dialing]

TROY: Hello, can I speak to Major Lamson, please?

Oh, good. It's banana day.

Just a sec. Sir, it's Mrs. Lamson.

She'd like a word.

Hello.

[Dogs barking]

Mr. Tudway!

You bellowed, Inspector?

We've been talking to an army widow.

Ellen Lamson.

Need I say more?

No, but I'm sure you will.

I thought this m*rder was a many-layered thing.

But it's dead simple.

You shot Hector Bridges over something that happened 15 years ago in the Falklands.

I did not sh**t Hector Bridges. I wanted him alive.

Yes, well, that makes you almost unique.

Would you mind telling us why?

Bearing in mind that I already know.

April 17, 1982.

Hector Bridges sent me up a hill with just eight men.

There were 12 Argentineans, he said, firing down on us.

So come nightfall, off I went.

But there weren't 12 up there. There were 30.

And when I came down that hill, I had four wounded and three men dead.

Is that why you took to the road?

And then, just before he died, John Lamson wrote to me, care of the village shop here.

Hector Bridges had known the enemy strength all along.

He should have waited for reinforcements.

But, no, he wanted to press on, take somewhere else, become a hero.

So he got the medal, and you carried the can.

TROY: That's motive enough to k*ll him.

I took John's letter -- well, I took a copy of it -- to show to Hector the day of the race.

He'd been drinking.

What the hell do you want?

A letter arrived for me just before Easter.

It was written by an old comrade of ours.

John Lamson.

He wrote it just before he died.

Read it.

Don't chuck your weight around in my house, Captain.

Read it!

All right. What do you want?

I want you to admit what you did.

Publicly.

How old-fashioned of you.

I've blamed myself for 15 years for those deaths.

Now it's time to blame you.

And who do you think they'll believe?

Me, here, in the big house?

Or you, out there, living in a horse-drawn cart?

TOM: While all this was going on, were you aware of anyone outside in the hall, listening at the door?

Was there someone?

At a rough guess, whoever k*lled him.

Right. You can go. All of you.

Leave.

You mean you believe me?

Do.

Bye! See you Appleby in May.

See you at Glastonbury.

TROY: Why isn't he going?

Handsome fellow, Orville Tudway, don't you think?

In some lights.

TOM: Educated, charming.

Witty, original.

And not a woman in sight.

Or perhaps there is one, and we just can't see her.

He could be a daisy, sir.

It's unlikely.

Peat cutting. On the flats. Yeah?

Bye-bye!

TOM: There's something I want to put to the test, require a little self-sacrifice from one of us.

Thank you so much for the offer. Follow me.

TOM: Orville Tudway.

I want to see what he does when my back is turned.

What are you going to be doing, sir?

Telling the Smiths they can go.

Fair enough.

Uh, no snacking.

Troy, a little faith in me wouldn't do you any harm.

[Compartment door closes]

[Horn honking]

What's up?

Nothing.

Call me.

[Horns honking]

Bye! Bye!

Bye! Bye!

-[ Geese honking] -[ Pigs grunting]

Afternoon, Miss Dinsdale. ls your sister about?

Uh, she'll be making tea, Inspector.

Tell her I'll be in shortly.

[Sighs]

FELICITY: I wonder if you'd care for a slice of this, Inspector.

Oh, yes, yes, please. I would, please.

It's a brand-new line, evidently.

Ohh.

Just -- Just a sliver.

And, um, why did you want to see me?

When I asked you about Hector Bridges...

Oh, it's lovely, that.

When I asked you about Hector, you said there was something of the night about him, that he had a dark side that it would pay me to explore.

That he was given to abuse.

Is that true?

Especially after a few drinks.

Mm.

Now, I don't want to press you for uncomfortable details --

-[ Cellphone rings] Oh.

Excuse me.

Barnaby.

Sir, there's nothing happening.

Well, perhaps -- perhaps we should make something happen.

What are you eating?

Banana. -[ Beeps]

Now, where was I?

You were about to press me for uncomfortable details, Inspector?

Oh, yes.

Abuse.

[Knock on door]

Come in.

Please. Take a seat.

Now, Mrs. Saxby...

The missing 10 minutes.

I have nothing more to say, Inspector.

I believe you heard the shot, and you went over there just as you said.

Which means she didn't k*ll him.

Ah, but you met whoever did.

And I imagine he was in quite a state.

So, what did you do? Calm him down, give him a story?

And then you took the wine cooler, described to me a young man who was never there making off with it.

And then you took the shotgun, which no doubt you disposed of.

How am I doing so far?

If I'm to answer any more questions, I'd like a solicitor to be present.

Very wise.

When are you off to New York, then, Fleur?

I'm not going to New York anymore.

I'm going to Milan instead. Oh, Milan. When?

Tomorrow.

I have a cousin there, works for the British Council.

Well, have a pleasant trip.

Well, thank you.

Thank you very much for coming in.

WILL: Is that all?

Yes, yes.

I didn't really want to see you.

I just wanted to get you away from the house.

[Telephone rings]

JENNY: Hello?

You do realize we're alone, don't you?

I know. But should we risk it?

Who's to see us?

Hey! Troy.

Troy -- Whoops. Sorry.

Troy, what the hell is going on?

You were right, sir. There was a woman in his life.

Jenny Bridges. So what?

With the daughter grown up and off to New York, Jenny could finally run off with him.

Well, she didn't have to k*ll anyone to run off with Orville.

She needed Hector's money, sir.

Well, she could have divorced him and got most of that.

Sir, just listen to me.

She admits to k*lling Hector Bridges.

Well done, Troy.

Shall I charge her, sir?

No, put her in the cell overnight, and we'll charge her in the morning.

TOM: What's the verdict?

You've done it. Congratulations.

Does that mean I can go back to eating normally?

Canteen lunches every day? No.

CULLY: When it comes to dinner parties, I've got it off Pat.

Cully!

Pat's the chef at the Thai take-away.

He's marvelous. Honestly.

What that man can do...

Cully, you're on TV. Joyce, turn it up.

He can turn the simplest of foods into a feast for you to serve to your friends, and you'll find them saying, "How on earth does she do it?"

Bu! there's a snag.

Pa! doesn't do desserts.

But Carter Bowman do, and they've been making gateaux like these for over 50 years.

You should try the latest.

I thought it was about tissues.

Fantastica.

That isn't just What I think of it.

That's what it's called.

Fantastica, from Carter Bowman.

While I've been eating cabbage soup, you are stuffing your face with chocolate gateau.

What sort of daughter are you, eh?

Dad, I didn't have the heart to tell you.

If it's any consolation, they taste awful.

I wouldn't say that, Cully.

Pardon?

Hello.

Could I book an alarm call, please, for 4:00 a.m. tomorrow morning?

Yeah. Thank you.

There you go.

JENNY: What are you doing here?

It's 10 past past 6:00. Is that too early for you?

No.

Please.

Now, can I get this straight?

You told Sergeant Troy that you wanted to run off with Orville, you wanted Hector's money, and so you k*lled him.

Yes.

[Chuckles]

Now, the thing about the confession is that it really should be true.

You didn't k*ll him for money or for freedom.

You could have divorced him, got both.

One doesn't consider that in the heat of the moment.

Ah, the old "hot moment," eh?

What so fired you up, then, to the point of k*lling your husband?

You who seem so icy, so -- so cool.

I'll tell you one thing that did happen.

You had a row with Hector.

You hear any of that, Jenny?

Yes, did.

Well, tell me what was said.

Well, I can't remember verbatim.

Is it important, Inspector? Oh, it's vital.

Because whatever was said made her take a shotgun to her husband.

Why don't you remind her, Orville?

HECTOR: Fine thing to do to an old comrade.

Screwing his wife.

ORVILLE: What?

HECTOR: Oh, close your mouth, for God's sake.

Do you think I hadn't noticed?

Why don't you do us both a favor?

Take the slag and run.

It's what you were planning to do.

And while you're about it, take the bloody daughter as well.

Conniving, grasping little tart.

You've said enough!

Do you know she reckons she's going to New York on my money.

Is there anything more laughable than a stupid woman?

Except of course a stupid man.

TOM: So you picked up the g*n and shot him.

You're standing there.

It's already loaded.

UP it goes.

And bang!

No, no. I don't buy that.

Well, that's exactly how it was.

I don't see you taking offense at a few insults.

It wasn't what he said about me.

And I don't see you behind the door, either.

Poor Sergeant Troy. He's arrested the wrong person.

It's 6:15.

And now I'll tell you what I do see.

I see Will Saxby, Muriel, and Orville in cahoots with you...

...protecting whoever was behind that door.

And I see you here now confessing to a crime you didn't commit.

And I ask myself, would I take the blame...

...for my daughter?

And what's the answer?

Yes, I would.

That's why you sent her away, isn't it?

It was going to be to the States, but that would take time to arrange visas, and I was breathing down your neck.

For Italy all you need is a ticket, and off you go.

6:20, her flight.

[ Footsteps]

Yes.

JENNY: Oh!

Oh.

[ Sobs 1

Mum, what's gonna happen to me?

TOM: I'm sorry I didn't believe that you'd been abused by Hector Bridges.

I made the classic mistake that abuse can only mean one thing -- sexual abuse.

And you weren't a victim of that.

Good old-fashioned brutality didn't cross my mind.

And when we spoke of it up in the woods, you didn't correct me, did you, in case the belt we'd found beside Hector led me back to Fleur and to the fact that he was about to beat the hell out of her with it.

The only thing I don't understand is why.

I heard the argument with Orville.

And what he said about me.

HECTOR: ...than a stupid woman.

That he wasn't gonna pay for me to go to America to get away from him.

[Door closes]

If you listen at keyholes, you'll hear things you don't like.

And things you can use.

If he doesn't do something with that letter, I will.

[ Laughs 1 How come everybody in this village hates you?

Do they?

Peter Fairfax tried to k*ll you over what you did to his girlfriend.

Steffan Miller you put away for some petty crime.

And Muriel.

What did she ever do but put up with you thumping her?

Often for less reason than you're giving me now.

And Jenny.

Do you knock her around just to keep your hand in?

All these people will help me.

Yes, come on, Hector.

Give me a real beating. Show me what a man you are!

Orville may be a traveler, but he's head and shoulders above you!

[Sobbing]

Fleur. Fleur.

Look at me.

I will do everything I can to help you.

I promise.

But I can't help you with the death of John Smith.

You won't have to, Inspector.

The wine cooler?

Was that one of your cask-handed ideas?

I thought they were all in our paddock, trading horses.

John Smith wasn't.

He was in his caravan, napping.

He went for me.

We struggled.

He fell.

You k*lled him.

[Sobbing]

And if they hadn't swapped partners, none of this would have happened.

Right.

I'm dreading this, you know?

That's what you said last time.

Hi. We were looking at a pair of chinos a couple of weeks ago.

I remember. We didn't have them in the, um, gentleman's size.

You will now.

I'm afraid we only have the one color left, madam.

Do I look like a red-trouser man to you?

Meaning no offense, sir, you're more the cavalry twill sort.

You got up my nose last time I was in here.

Tom. Dad, lunch.

Carlos'. Temple Street.

And I remember sir comparing us unfavorably to Marks and Spencer.

The day you can offer as much choice --

He's doing coq au vin with bread-and-butter pudding.