All language subtitles for death_in_paradise.3x03.hdtv_x264-fov

This is what I call overtime.

We're on duty, remember?

Fidel, we're baby-sitting a
painting.

Dwayne, it's a work of art.

No. That is a work of art.

Anything to report, Sergeant Best?

Commissioner.
All good, sir.

Dwayne, Fidel, this is Leo Pascal,
the owner of the Pascal Gallery.

Leo, your security for this evening.

I can't tell you how reassured
I am to have you gentlemen here.

You have a fine gallery.

We was just enjoying the show.

You're a fan of Durosseau?

I prefer his older stuff.

This may be your last
chance to see his masterpiece.

After the auction it'll probably go
to a private collector...

Speaking of which. Excuse me.

Oh-oh, Dragon Lady at two o'clock.

Good luck, sir.
Commissioner.

Judge Stone. You look radiant.

Selwyn. You look doughy.

Her name was Cora Patrick. She was a
dancer at the Mermaid bar.

Durosseau painted her portrait in an
attempt to woo her.

Was he successful?

She rejected him because he was too
poor. So, he killed himself.

It's tragic, really.

When did he paint it?

Early last century.
1927 to be precise.

Excuse me. Dorothy, I'm so glad you
came.

I wouldn't miss this for the
world.

Oh, you've met Carlton, haven't you?

Good to see you again.
And you.

So, I can't wait to see
the painting.

It's right over here.

Oh, you know, Carlton's been trying
to teach me about art

but it's hopeless.

I am such a philistine, you see?

I'm sure that's not true.
You've always had excellent taste...

Friend of yours?

Yeah, a long time ago.

Ah. The glamour has arrived.

Let me get you some champagne.

Sergeant Best, arrest me now.

Why, sir?

Anything to get
away from that woman.

I don't know what the fuss is about,
so what if it leaves the island?

Carlton thinks it should stay here.
Durosseau's our most famous artist.

Excuse me. Carlton!

Carlton, wait!

Where are you going?

I really need to take this.

Quarter of a million dollars?

Yes, it's a lot for a painting.

Hmm.

Diverted call from the
station.

Hello. Hello? Police. My name is
Carlton Paris. I'm at 125 Shore Road.

She's got a gun...

Hello?

Hey? Where are you going?

Honore Police!

Open up, Carlton!

Can you please charge your phone?

I did. Soon as I got in.

Look.

Electricity helps.

Sorry. I got a little sidetracked.

Were you trying to call me?
Yes. We have a murder.

Ah, great, I'll just get my, er...

Yes, great.

What have we got?

Local boy. Carlton Paris.

Shot.
Who found him?

We did. The Pascal Gallery job
the Commissioner hired us for.

Carlton was a guest.

He left early but an hour
and a half later,

he called the station, gave
his name and address, and said...

"She's got a gun."

Did he by any chance say who
she was?

No, that would be far too easy,
wouldn't it?

So what do we know about the victim?

I think you better ask Fidel.

Why Fidel?

Seems they knew each other.

Looks like he took a shot to the
shoulder and to the back.

Close range. Killer probably
fired from the doorway.

When did you get the call?

8:30.

And you arrived at?
8:35.

A five-minute window for the killer
to shoot him and then get away.

We did a brief search of the grounds
and surrounding areas

but there was no sign of anyone.

Also, the door was intact when we
got here

so he must have let the killer in.

Which suggests he knew her.

Yes, Camille.

What are you doing?

His glasses. They're for reading.

So?

So, what was he reading?

Dwayne says you were friends.

We were at the same school.

But were you close?

Very, I'd say...

How do you know?

Why else would Fidel be so upset?

I'm not upset.

Really? You sure?

Because it's not like you to miss
such a big clue.

I can only assume it's because
you're upset. What clue?

There's no land line here.
So?

So, he must have made
a call on his mobile to the station.

Did you find it?

Which means? The killer took it.
Exactly.

Wow!

Wow! Look at the size of that.

It's bigger than a king-size.

What would you call that? Emperor
size? Tsar size?

It's comfy too. Gives a lot back.

Designer suits.

Mmm-hmm.

What did he do?

As far as we know he was unemployed.

Rich partner then?

No partner. No family.

Then how could he afford all this?

Good question. Come.

So, we checked in here.

We ruled out burglary
because they left the laptop.

They took his mobile.

Look, his diary.
Seems like a woman for every week.

Imagine...

Today is marked Dorothy Foster.

The shipping heiress?
Mmm-hmm.

Carlton was with her at the gallery
this evening.

They looked very cosy.

Isn't she a little old for him?
These are all rich women.

Mmm-hmm.

Odd selection of books, don't you
think? All reference and

no fiction.

And the subjects. Antiques,
opera, art, food, gardening.

Not what you'd expect a man in
his 20s to be reading.

As far as I can see it wasn't
so much reading them as mining them.

Mining them for what?

Conversation, I think. Take a look.

You see? He's marked this section
on Royal Doulton as "icebreaker".

Then there's the fancy
sculptures.

Expensive, tasteful but with
a touch of femininity about them.

Not his choice. I think
these were gifts.

So, we have a 25-year-old
man with no apparent income

living in a prime beachside
property with a wardrobe

full of designer suits.

He studies culture for conversation
and receives gifts from rich women.

And, according to that, he clearly
had a punishing romantic schedule.

Feels like I'm missing something.

Did you know?

Did I know what?

That Carlton was a gigolo?

He had a way with women.

Looks like he had a way with half
the women on the island.

Yeah, well, that's nothing to
be proud of.

How long since you were close?

A few years.

What happened?

We grew apart.

I'm going to need a copy of Walks
of the Caribbean by Albert Dunn.

What?
Volume Two by the looks of it.

Why would you need that?
Carlton was reading,

but no written material was
found in the front room.

Books are in alphabetical order.

All seem to be
accounted for apart from...

See? Volume one and volume three.
Maybe our killer took volume two.

All for a mobile phone
and an old book?

I don't know! The things people
kill for nowadays, eh?

How far was the gallery from here?

Less than a mile.

So, despite there being two police
officers within five minutes,

Carlton chose to call the station.

He panicked. Dialled 999
and got through the switchboard.

But him and Fidel were old friends.
Why not call him?

Apparently, they grew apart.
It's odd though, don't you think?

Not as odd as Fidel being friends
with the island gigolo.

Yes, you've got a point there.

Wait a minute. Did you say gigolo?

The problem with being single

is finding ways to occupy your
time.

Then there's the discipline
of cooking a proper dinner,

not simply resorting to baked
beans on toast every night.

Making the bed. And they're all
daily battles, don't you find?

Not really.
But you live on your own?

Yes, but I make my own bed every
morning

and I have no idea what
baked beans are.

I need that information now.

Tomorrow is no good.

Is that Fidel?

Yes! He's chasing Carlton's
service provider.

OK! You understand this is
a murder investigation?

He sounds a little angry.
You think that's bad?

You should have been
here for the forensics call.

I want them here by tomorrow.

First they can't track his phone
then it's a two-day

wait for his call records.
They're amateurs.

So, where do you want to start?
Coffee?

Let's skip coffee.

Right, Carlton Paris,

a 25-year-old male escort
attends a viewing

at the Pascal Gallery, leaves early
and an hour and a half later...

is threatened with a gun by a woman.

First question is why?

His job. He was a gigolo.

Maybe it was a disgruntled client.

Where are we on his clientele?

Most of his customers were
businesswomen or tourists.

But he did have a few
regulars on the island.

Yes, including Dorothy Foster.

She's hired Carlton every
Saturday for the past eight months.

Must have cost her a fortune.

Carlton arrived at the viewing with
Dorothy around 6:30.

But he left her
sometime around 7:00.

Any idea why?
No. But she didn't look very happy.

Right.

Dwayne, let's track down these
local clients,

see if they have an alibi
for the time of death.

Yes, Chief.

20:30 to 20:35.
That is our golden hour.

Or golden
five minutes, to be precise.

Ballistics. They said we'd have
something this morning.

Also, we could do a profile
of Carlton. As you were friends.

I hadn't spoken to him in years.

People don't change that much.

Chief? Walks of the Caribbean
by Albert Dunn.

Volume Two. Happy reading.

Wow. This looks...heavy.

Keep an eye on Fidel.

OK, in the meantime, let's go and
see what Dorothy Foster has to say.

So this is the Reef Club?

Where the rich come to play.

I'm sorry.

I met Carlton about a year ago.
In this room.

It was the Valentine's Dance
and we got chatting.

He was handsome and charming.
Attentive.

So you began hiring him?

He became my Saturday-night date.

It wasn't a physical
arrangement, you understand.

More like best friends.

We had so much in common.

Like art?

Carlton loved art. It inspired him.

He always said that art was truth.

If he loved art so much, why did he
leave the viewing early last night?

Well, that's what I was wondering.

Did you have an argument?

No, one moment everything was
fine and then

the next Carlton was leaving.

Carlton, wait...

'So I followed him out and...'

Where are you going?

He never came back.

What time was this?

Um, around 7pm.

Did you try to call him later?

Dorothy?

I've been looking all over for you.
It's just awful. Poor Carlton.

Leo Pascal. I own Pascal Gallery.

So, you were at the viewing?

Of course.

We were just wondering why Carlton
left the gallery so abruptly.

I think he might have had some
kind of run-in with Marc Campese.

Marc Campese?

He owns the Reef Club.

'Carlton and I were discussing the
Durosseau when Campese turned up.'

I didn't catch what he said but it
made quite an impact on Carlton.

And you've no idea what it
was about?

Sorry. Haven't the foggiest.

Where were you between 8:30
and 8:35 yesterday?

I was at home.

Were you alone?

I'm nearly always alone.

I'm sorry.

You know, I think the Inspector
meant

he wanted you to interview
the suspects, not date them.

You can come with me
if you want, make sure I behave.

Haven't finished Carlton's profile.

Looks like you haven't started it.

Carlton Paris. 25. Dead.

You sure you two were friends?

What happened between you two?

It's OK. You can tell me. We fell
out.

Was it a girl?

Did he steal her from you
or vice versa?

Hey, where you going?

Fidel!

I almost feel sorry for her.

Why?

She seems grief-stricken.

Could be remorse.

You really think she's
capable of murder?

She's the last person to see him
alive and her alibi is weak.

Did she just...

I think she did.

Why would she do that?

Maybe she has a twitch.
Or sunstroke.

So, Carlton's argument with Marc
Campese, we should check it out.

We should but isn't
he the wrong sex to be a suspect?

Maybe. But his wife isn't.

So, I spoke to Carlton. Big deal.

What was the conversation about?

Er, just, er, you know, small talk.

We understand that this small talk
upset Carlton and made him

leave early.
Rubbish.

Look, we exchanged a few words, yes,
but, er, it was so trivial,

I have no recollection what
they were.

Did you know Carlton well?

I knew what he was, that was enough.

And what was that?

A man who preyed on the lonely.

Don't get me wrong,
he was good at it,

but it's hardly an honourable
way to make a living.

What about you, Mrs Campese?

Er, what about me?

Did you know Carlton well?

Er, not really.

Er, he was a member of the club
but we very rarely spoke.

Did Carlton ever bring any of his
clients to the Reef Club?

He did...until I put a stop to it.

Why did you do that?

Preying on our female members
is bad for business.

OK, afraid we have another
meeting. Is there anything else?

Where were you between 8:30
and 8:35?

Let me see, well, we left
the gallery at about 8:00.

Home by 8:30.

Early night. Yes. We were both very
tired.

Marc Campese was lying.

But Marc Campese's not a she.

Doesn't mean he's not involved.
Hm.

And his wife's lying too.

Anything useful?

What?

The book.

It's just an out-of-date travel
guide with a few

chapters on Saint Marie.

"The pretty island of Saint Marie is
situated in the eastern

"Caribbean Sea.

"It is one tenth the size of its
northwest neighbour Guadeloupe,

"one eighth of the size of Dominica,
one sixth of the size of St Lucia,

"one fifth the size of Martinique
and a third of the size of
Barbados..."

And on and on and on it goes.

Why would our killer want to take
this from Carlton's villa?

Must be something important in it.
Yeah. But what?

Er, it's Dwayne.

Any luck on Carlton's clients? Seems
Carlton had another client.

And you'll never believe who it
is. Who?

Judge Anne Stone.

Judge Anne Stone?

Who's Judge Anne Stone?

There was no relationship
between Carlton Paris and I.

Right. Er, I see.

Well, we're just...we're pretty
sure that you hired him.

We checked his bank records.

You made a single payment to him
last month.

Hmm. My God. You must be desperate.

We're just covering every angle.

Fine. Last month I had to attend
the Law Society dinner.

Now, it is still considered bad form
for a woman to attend unaccompanied.

You needed a date?

My PA, she used her initiative.

And hired Carlton?

She told me Carlton was a friend.

It was only later that I found out
he was, in fact, an escort.

So, what happened?

I sacked her of course.

I mean, with Carlton.

A little too clingy for my liking.

So you never hired him again?

Are you mad?

Do you have any idea what
associating with a male

escort would do to my reputation?

Anything else? Yes.

Where were you between 8:30

and 8:35 yesterday evening?

In my chambers.

Anyone see you there?

I have no idea.

Wow.
Hello.

She reminds me of my mum.

Yes, it is.
That explains a lot.

Just do it.

"The waters around Saint Marie
are too treacherous for any

"larger vessels to chance.

"However this may soon change as a
lighthouse is currently being
erected.

"The rainforests hum with life. The
wonderful indigenous birdlife

"includes the fabled Saint Marie
green..."

Maybe he was reading this
and shot himself...

Wow! Can't believe
they closed it down.

It was hardly a surprise,
stuck out here.

No-one could ever find the place.

So, what's so important?

Lauren...I found this at Carlton's
villa.

It's yours, isn't it?

What do you want me to say?

What was it doing under his pillow?

Work it out, Fidel.

So, how long had you been...

Having an affair?

Yeah. A year.

You should leave him.

I'd planned to.
Carlton and I were off to

America. He bought tickets.

No chance of that happening now.

No. Lauren?

Did Marc know?

Er...you know...I, erm... I really
should get going.

Lauren? Lauren!

Did he know?

Marc Campese found out that Lauren
and Carlton were having an affair.

How did he find out?

Somebody at the club told him.

And how did he react?

Marc has a temper
at the best of times.

At the gallery the night that
Carlton was killed,

Marc threatened him,

told him to stay away from me.

So much for the small talk.
Mm.

Do you think he would've
carried out his threat?

It's OK. You can tell them.

Marc lied when he said that we went
home after the viewing.

After we left the gallery,
he was still angry.

We were arguing. Things got ugly
when I told him

that I was leaving him for
Carlton.

That was it. Red rag to a bull.

Marc!
What time was this?

Er, about 8:00.
I went home and I waited for him.

He came back at 10:00.
Did he say where he'd been?

No, but I have a pretty good idea.
So do we.

Inspector?
Commissioner.

I understand you paid a visit to
Judge Stone yesterday.

She's helping with our inquiries.

Everything to your satisfaction?

Routine interview, that's all.

How disappointing.

You know, I wonder if you shouldn't
be too quick to dismiss the good

judge from your investigation.

Sir?

Judge Stone is a prominent citizen
with considerable political power.

It's our civic duty to ensure
there's nothing to compromise her.

You're asking us to dig for dirt?

Not at all.

But should you uncover any
skeletons, I'd like to know first.

She made him spend a day in jail.

You're kidding? What for?

Parking fines.

Can you jail someone for that?

Judge Stone can.

You two again.
I've got nothing else to say to you.

Well, we'd love to talk to
you...about your movements

after the viewing.

Told you. I went home.

You might want to rethink that
answer.

Lauren?

What can I say? I thought
my role as husband was to provide...

..give my wife everything her
heart desired.

It turns out that what she desired
was some jumped-up gigolo.

Do you know they were actually
planning to run away together?

Must have made you very angry.

Yeah, yeah, it did.

As soon as Lauren told me she was
leaving, the rage took over me.

Don't ask me what I was planning to
do.

I just wanted to get there. And do
what?

And kill him, of course.

Did you?

No.

When I got to his villa
Dorothy was there.

Dorothy Foster?

There she was,

demanding that Carlton let her in.

She was angry.
What time was this?

Around 8:15.

So what did you do?

Hung around for five minutes
waiting for her to leave.

Suppose I must've cooled off a bit.
Anyway, I left.

Then where did you go?

I walked around for a while.

Came to my senses, and went home.

That's it? You just went home?

What about the rage that
came over you?

I decided to redirect it.

Would you mind telling us where?

I know what this looks like from the
outside.

Rich older man marries a pretty
young woman. Trophy wife.

The fact is, I love Lauren.

I just have to find a way to
prove that to her.

You have to sign your statement.

And then what?
And then you can go.

Er, I found this last night.

When was this taken?

The day you got into police college.

Carlton bought the cocktails.

Oh, he was always the big spender.

Yeah, we look drunk.
But happy.

Used to love spending time with
the two of you. You were so close.

Like brothers.

Yeah...until I spoilt it all.

He still considered you a friend.

Then why didn't he call me?
He was in trouble.

His life was in danger.
He should've called me.

Er, you can keep that.

Thanks.

Thank you for letting me see it.

It's such a beautiful work.

And the last memory
I have of Carlton.

Is everything set for the auction?

We're expecting quite a turnout.

Inspector Goodman.

Miss Foster, we have a witness who
says

they saw you at Carlton's
villa last night.

Who also says you were very angry.

Mr Pascal, could you give us
a moment, please?

Thank you.

I've never had much luck
with men.

I always seem to
attract the wrong sort.

Daddy used to despair, "They're only
after one thing, Dorothy,

"my money".

So, after ten years of moving
from one disastrous

relationship to the next,
I decided enough was enough.

You hired Carlton?

At least with him, I didn't have to
pretend it wasn't about my money.

But the truth is, he made me
feel like I was important.

Why did you go to the villa?

Well, when he didn't
return to the gallery,

I went to see if he was all right.

Then what made you so angry?

The night of the viewing,
Carlton asked to see me early.

Said he had an announcement.

For one silly moment I thought
that he was planning to propose.

But no.

He said he was leaving the island

and that this would be our last
date together.

Did he say why he was leaving?

Apparently, he'd fallen in love.
I tried to be happy for him.

I put on quite an act.

But then I realised that this
would be my last time with him.

So, well, I just couldn't cope.

So, I thought that
if I offered him more money,

or even if I bought him
the Durosseau...

What did Carlton say?

He never even answered the door.

Are you saying you went to bribe
Carlton to stay friends with you?

You don't believe me?

I'm struggling to understand.

Then you have never been lonely.

What do you think?

I find it hard to believe that he
wouldn't at least talk to her.

Maybe he did and she's lying.
She has motive and opportunity.

All we're missing
is the murder weapon.

Excuse me...Hello.

Beautiful, isn't she?

Yes, yes, she is.

The artist was in love with her.

Do you know about Durosseau
and Cora?

No. But I can see it in there.

D'accord. Oui. Merci.

Forensics are in. Sir? Sir!

Sorry. Coming.

So! There's nothing in the pathology
report to refute what

we already know.

The first bullet entered
the left shoulder.

It was the second bullet that did
the damage, pierced the heart.

Ballistics?
A.45-calibre.

Check the firearms register.
Yes, chief.

What happened with Campese?

He admitted going to the villa
but claims he never saw Carlton.

And what, you believe that story?

We've got nothing to contradict it.

Honore Police.

So if Dorothy Foster
and Marc Campese were outside

the villa before 8:30
and Judge Stone was in her chambers,

that just leaves us with Lauren.

Wait, hold on!
Lauren's still a suspect?

We can't confirm she was at home.

Camille, she didn't kill Carlton.

How can you be so sure?
Because I know her.

Maybe she changed. Like you said,
it's been a few years.

Yeah, and like you said, people
don't change that much, remember?
Thank you very much.

That was Carlton's service provider.

They're e-mailing full statements,
but one number called

Carlton's phone every
day for the past two weeks.

So I ran a check.

And whose is it?

Judge Ann Stone.

So, I called him a few times.

It might be better if you just told
us the truth, Your Honour.

Do you have any clue what it's like
to be a woman in this profession?

You have to be in control all
the time. Even more so than the men.

20 years of my life
I have dedicated to my career

and you have to learn to be tough.

You don't become the dragon lady
overnight, let me tell you.

And Carlton?

He brought out a side in me
I thought I had buried long ago.

He reminded me
I have a sense of humour.

I'm actually very funny.

Yeah, no, we can see that.

I was intoxicated.

I wasn't in love with him...

..it was more that I was in love
with who I am when I was with him.

And then he backed off.

Then what did you do?

I got desperate.

I never left him alone.

I called him...night...and day.

But it didn't work?

Desperation never does.

I'm finding it hard to imagine Judge
Stone as a killer.

Oh. Easier than imagining her
having a sense of humour?

Oh, er, please!

These women hired Carlton,
he made them all happy. How?

Most men struggle to make
one woman happy.

Clearly, he was good at his job.

Yes, then there's the mobile.
And the book and...

It makes no sense,
I read it from cover to cover.

Excellent work, DI Goodman.

So, where's the prisoner? Prisoner,
sir?

Why, Judge Stone, of course.

Dwayne informs me
you were about to arrest her.

Huh. That's not what I said...
Commissioner.

Did you do it in public?
Well, actually,

it was more of a follow-up
interview with Judge Stone.

A follow-up interview?

Some further questions.

So, you didn't arrest her?

No cause to, sir.

So, I came all the way down here to
watch you bring her in.

Sorry, sir.

It's disappointing, I know.

I checked the firearms register

and guess who owns a.45-calibre?

Right.

I'll drive this time.

I'm an excellent driver.
No, you're not!

This is practically harassment.

We appreciate your co-operation.

Never even use the damn thing.
Then why keep it?

It's a dangerous world.

A man has a right to
protect his own property.

Does that include his wife?

There you go. Knock yourself out.

It's gone. What? It's not there.

I can't understand.
It was...it was here.

When was the last time you saw it?

I cleaned it a week ago.

Did you lock the safe afterwards?

Of course I locked it.

Who else has access to the key?

Campese's lying.

He did seem genuinely surprised
to find it wasn't in the safe.

Someone else could have broken into
the club and stole the gun.

Come on. The Reef Club's security
system is state of the art.

Only a pro could be able to
breach it undetected.

And they'd also have to have
access to the key.

All right, but why would she kill
him? They were going to America
together.

No, they weren't. Carlton was all
set to go. But not Lauren.

Her passport had been
out of date for the past two years.

Carlton booked flights but there's
no way Lauren could have travelled.

Why you checking up on this?

Because we do routine background
checks on all suspects,

you know that...

Sergeant.

We know Carlton was
killed by a woman.

We need to bring her in, Fidel.

Just give me half an hour.

OK.

What happened? Is it Marc?
Where's the gun, Lauren?

What gun?
The one you took from the safe.

What are you talking about?
You had no intention of leaving.

What? Of course I did. I told you,
New York, we were flying out...

Without a passport?

I don't know why
I didn't renew it.

I wanted to go. I was just...

..scared.
Scared of what?

Of everything.
Of leaving Marc, the island.

Of starting a new life with Carlton.
What if it didn't work?

Look, you know what he was like.
Nothing ever frightened him.

It was all one big adventure. Me?

I'm a coward.

I wish I wasn't.

I wish I'd left with him.
Then he'd still be alive.

What about the gun?

OK, I took the gun. But only to give
it to Carlton for protection.

Protection from what?
From Marc.

Look, when he found
out about the affair he was livid.

He said that he was going to deal
with Carlton and he meant it.

I had to do something.

So, I took the gun. I don't know if
I was protecting Carlton from Marc.

Or Marc from himself.
I went round to Carlton's.

I told him that Marc knew

and that he should take the gun
just in case something happened.

And what did Carlton say?

He didn't want it.
He said he wasn't afraid of Marc.

But what happened with the gun?

Well, I left it there.

We didn't find it, Lauren.
No...

I did not kill Carlton.
I loved him.

How is she?

She's scared.

Are you OK?
No, not really.

Looks like a fun night.

Yeah. One of the best.

Carlton was a handsome boy.

And he knew it.

Bonjour, Catherine. Oh, boy.

Tough few days, huh?
Yeah.

Listen, about the passport check...

You were doing your job.

Sorry about Lauren.

Yeah, me too. I wish I could help
her.

Yes, it's a pity we can't find the
gun.

She said she left it at the villa.
And you believe her?

Yes.
Then let's go and look for it.

Dwayne, we searched the grounds
and the house already.

Then let's search them again.
Come on.

Honore Police.

Sir?

What you doing here?

Looking for the gun. You?
Same.

So you believe Lauren's story?

Let's just say I have a lot
of questions that remain unanswered.

Like what?
Well, for starters

we're looking for a woman who hated
Carlton enough to want to kill him.

Problem is every woman we've spoken
to absolutely loved him.

And why take the mobile phone?

And why not call you
when he was in trouble?

You're a good friend,
you were close by...

I wasn't a good friend.

I cut off all contact with him when
I graduated from police college.

Ah, I see.

It wasn't easy but...

But being friends with a male escort
would have been a bit awkward?

Do you think I was wrong?

Well, can't have friendship
without mutual respect.

Golden rule, don't do anything to
harm each other. Exactly.

And Carlton being an escort,
I didn't think it was a good

idea for me to be around him
as a police officer...

Then again, friendship's not
really about rules. It's about

sticking by each other no
matter what.

You're right. I let him down.

I threw away my best friend because
I thought he'd reflect badly on me.

What did you just say?

Carlton's job. I was too worried
about how it reflected on me.

Reflect.

Carlton loved art.

It inspired him.

There she was demanding that
Carlton let her in.

What time is it?

It's almost five.

Right! OK.

Go and pick up Camille, and I will
meet you both there in an hour.

Meet us where?

The gallery, of course.

The auction should have started
half an hour ago.

My customers are
getting very restless.

We are waiting for DI Goodman.

Where the hell is he? He said he'd
be here.

Sorry. Sorry to keep
you all waiting.

Where's Mr Campese? Probably
changing the locks.

You want us to arrest him.

No, actually that won't be
necessary. Why not?

Because he didn't do it.

Before we begin, I think we should
all take a moment to reflect

upon the work of Albert Peter Dunn.

And who is Albert Peter Dunn?

He was a travel writer.

Not a good travel writer
but a very thorough one.

He came to Saint Marie in 1929
while researching this.

Walks of the Caribbean,

a set of three books
describing every hike,

stroll and ramble in the region.

This is volume two.
500 pages long.

Crammed full of meticulous detail
and painstaking research.

It also happens to be very,
very dull.

Sorry, is there a point to this?

Yes. The point?

Well, the point is that like Albert
Dunn, Carlton was also very
thorough.

We know that he went to great
lengths to research his clients

and their interests.

Probably what made him
so good at his job.

He took the time to
get to know them, to find

out who they were
and what they needed.

Carlton played a different
role for each of his clients.

Sometimes as a lover...

..sometimes a friend.

Er, sorry!

No, not that one.

Yes! Right!

So, let's start with what we think
we know about the night Carlton
died.

At 7:00 Carlton leaves the gallery

because he had an argument
with Marc Campese.

Outside he tells Dorothy Foster
he'll be back soon.

At 8:15 he refuses to
answer his door to Dorothy.

At 8:30 he makes a call to the
police

and says that a woman is
trying to kill him.

And sometime between then
and 8:35

Carlton Paris is shot dead.

And not one of those
statements is true.

It was all one big con.

Oh, actually, wait,

the part about Carlton saying
he was coming back to the gallery,

that was true.
But everything else was a lie.

Carlton didn't leave the gallery
because he was angry at Mr Campese.

In fact, he'd already planned to go.

And it wasn't that he wouldn't
open his door to Dorothy.

But rather that he couldn't
open his door.

And he never made
a call to the police

and he wasn't shot between 8:30 and
8:35.

So, back to the start again

and the real reason why Carlton
left the gallery.

He was going home to fetch
something.

To fetch what, exactly?

Walks of the Caribbean, of course.

See, Carlton spotted something in
this book that would have caused

a bit of a scandal.

Albert Dunn's description of his
walk around Saint Marie harbour.

"The harbour is quaint,
yet little used,

"save for a few local fishing boats.

"The waters around Saint Marie are
too treacherous for any larger

"vessels to chance.

"However this may soon change
as a lighthouse is currently being

"erected."

That would be this lighthouse here,
the one reflected in the bottle.

The one built in 1929.
Two years after the artist had died.

Looked it up in your catalogue.

So, you see...

..there is no way that Durosseau
could have painted that painting.

And that's how Carlton knew that The
Girl from the Mermaid is a fake.

This is ridiculous.

Carlton told you of his suspicions.

Thank you for sharing.

I can bring the proof to you.

Ah. The glamour's arrived.

He must have thought that you were
a victim of a fraud.

He can't have known that you
were involved or

he would have exposed you there
and then.

You knew

that if he came back with
that proof,

well, then you could say goodbye to
that quarter of a million dollars.

And if it was discovered that you
knew it was a fake,

well, then you'd be facing
a lengthy jail sentence.

You went off to Carlton's villa.

I imagine you tried to reason
with him at first,

maybe even tried to bribe him
with a cut of the auction fee.

But Carlton, Carlton wouldn't bite.

And then it appeared before you,
Marc Campese's gun.

You took the book
and you were about to leave when...

you saw a chance to cover your
tracks. Carlton's mobile phone.

The deed done. You returned to your

guests as if nothing had happened.

Come the end of the night, you had
one more con to play.

A phone call to the police station
using Carlton's phone to make

it seem like he was still alive.
Hello?

Hello? Police.

My name is Carlton Paris. I'm at 125
Shore Road.

She's got a gun.

Hey? Where are you going?

A nice touch with that
"she's got a gun".

What with Carlton being an escort
you knew we'd be

looking at one of his clients.

And the phone call made us

think that Carlton was still alive
an hour after you killed him...

..when you had two police officers
who could vouch for your alibi.

See, Carlton never called his friend
when he was in trouble

because it wasn't him
making the call.

You managed to fake a murder.

Shame that you couldn't fake
a painting.

Top drawer, I guess.

Just as I thought. Walks of the
Caribbean Volume Two.

No doubt covered with Carlton's
fingerprints.

And the phone? It's Carlton's.

All the evidence we need, I'd say.

I'll buy them from you for a penny.
What?

Your thoughts.
That's what English people say,

isn't it? "I'll pay one
penny for your thought."

You mean "a penny for them".

Yeah, that's what I said.
Yes, almost.

You're not going to do your baked
beans on toast speech again?

No. I don't mind. No! Cool!

I suppose I am a bit lonely.

Bound to be, I've been with Sally,
you see.

And now I'm not.
And it takes a bit of adjusting.

Even looked at an internet
dating site.

Really? Did you do it?
No.

But there might be someone out
there, just waiting for you...

You think?
Why not?

Well, I'm afraid I fell at the first
hurdle, you see.

It said "Name your three best
qualities." I put catching

murderers as my number one,
then I sort of ran out of steam.

Don't suppose you can
think of anything else?

Er, no.

Ah! Right. Thought not.

I'm teasing.

You can put that you're kind, you're
handsome, and you're very sexy...

Really?

Of course! It's internet.

Everyone lies.

There was a party last night.

I reckon there will be another one
tonight. Ms Siebert?

Natasha Siebert, a 35-year-old air
hostess. Suspicious death.

I could think of 100 flight
attendants that people would gladly
murder.

Max, but not Natasha. We found some
fingerprints in Natasha's room.

Do you want to see the real
Saint Marie? Yes.