All language subtitles for death_in_paradise.3x08.hdtv_x264-eng

I enjoyed today, Colin. Thanks.

Me too.

Better go and rest up

if I'm going to have any
energy for this dance tonight.

You don't have to come, you know.

I wouldn't miss it for the world!

See you later, Colin.

Well? Did you do it?

I meant to. I planned to,
but when it got down to it,

I didn't have the courage.

Colin. We're none of us
getting younger!

I'll do it tonight.

What are you stuck on?

Bloody 14 down.

Orchestra, anagram of carthorse.

Course it is!

Oh, Jim!

My computer's lost the wi-fi signal.

Can you do that thing that you do?

Sorry, Pam! It's just that
I wanted to video-call Ben tonight.

Oh, well, I'm sure Jim will be
only too happy to help you out.

I won't be long.

Right then. Emma.

You have got to tell her.

We can't do this, not here.

You've got until the dance tonight
to tell her,

otherwise I swear
I'll tell her myself.

Well, then you'll have to get
used to shiny trousers!

I love that you can still nag me
from 2,000 miles away.

I'm your mother -
I can nag you from any distance!

I know that, that's the problem!

What's the matter with you?
Nothing, why?

Face like a smacked arse again.

I'll get us some drinks.

Have you seen Emma? No.
Is she coming?

She said she was but, er,
it's gone six.

What's wrong? Well, it's Emma.

She said she'd be here tonight,
but I just tried her mobile,

she didn't answer. Well, maybe I
should go and check on her.

What?

Judith, have you seen Emma?
Oh, not since this afternoon.

She's not answering her phone.

Oh, I'm sure she's fine.
She'll be getting ready.

No. Jim's right,
we should go and check.

Come on, we'll go together.
We'll be back in five minutes.

That's so sweet. He really
cares about her, doesn't he?

Who? Colin?

Or Jim?

Emma? You there?

Emma?

I can see her. Open the door.

It's locked! Out the way.

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So, you were the last
person to see her?

Dr Emma Redding. Retired.

She made arrangements to go
to a dance this evening,

but she didn't show up.

Two male residents came to
her room after 6pm.

They saw the body through
the shutters,

so they broke the door down but
she was dead before they got to her.

Was she alone?

Yes.

Cause of death?

It looks like an overdose.

Anyone know what Propenten is?

Ah, yes, they're sleeping pills.
How do you know that?

I had an aunt.
She was kind of highly strung.

It's what she took.

Suicide note?
We haven't found one yet.

Well, we know
she didn't have a sweet tooth.

She didn't eat her dessert but
she did eat most of her main meal.

So, three possibilities.
Suicide, accident or murder.

Well, accident is unlikely.

Because? Because if you're taking
sleeping pills, you'd have to take

the whole packet for a fatal
overdose

and you can't do that accidentally.

Your aunt again? Yes, sir.

So that just leaves us
with suicide or murder.

It's not suicide. Oh?

Well, it's pretty obvious
if you consider the evidence.

What evidence would that be?

The dress. The dress? Mmm-hmm.

Well, if she was going to take
her own life,

why get out a special dress
like this and not put it on?

People who commit suicide
prepare for it.

What clothes to wear,
what time of the day, it's a ritual.

Why get out a dress like this
if it's not part of the plan?

You know what, Camille?

Normally I would agree with you,
but if this isn't a suicide,

I don't think it's a murder, either.

When you consider the evidence.

And what evidence would that be?

The door.

It has a latch-lock and a bolt.

Both were clearly broken when the
residents forced it open. See?

And I've been looking -

there's no other way into the room
other than through that door.

And as the door was locked,
how did the killer get out?

Chief? So, Dr Redding was found dead
in a room locked from the inside.

No sign of a struggle, and an empty
pack of sleeping pills

beside her, and no possibility
of anyone else being in here.

Or in other words, if it
looks like a duck, walks like a duck

and quacks like a duck...
It's a duck? Exactly.

She killed herself.

But then there's the dress.

Thank you.

Mr and Mrs Chandler.

Judith Musgrove. Colin Campbell.

Good evening.

Sylvaine tells us that you were
close to, er, Dr Redding?

So, can any of you tell me
what kind of doctor she was?

Of course. She was a surgeon.

And then she worked in the cosmetic
industry before she retired.

Mmm-hmm. I see.

We would like to get
an idea of Emma's state of mind

over the last few days and weeks.

Emma's never been happier,
and we all know why.

Don't we, Colin?

Emma and I, we'd been, erm,
stepping out.

We went to a concert today,
in a church in Honore.

Emma loved choral music,
and we had a marvellous time.

When you got back,
how would you describe her mood?

A little tired, but good.

Happy? Content?

I'd say so.

She was excited about the dance

and looking forward to speaking
to her son.

He lives in New York.
I know she misses him... Missed him.

They were always speaking to each
other on the computer, you know.

That's right. Her son is called Ben.

They were chatting when I brought
dinner to her earlier, around 5.30.

Did you hear what they were
talking about? Not really.

And you all met her
here on Saint Marie?

Well, no, Pam and I first
came across Emma in the '90s.

I was in medical supplies,

and my company had a contract
with her hospital.

Bit of a coincidence, isn't it,
her ending up here?

Well, hardly. It was my suggestion
she came out here.

She had terrible arthritis
in her right ankle,

that's why she took early retirement
and also why she came out here.

Because the sunshine helped
with the pain.

Was she in much pain?

I suspect more than she let on.

But she rarely complained.

And you were expecting
her at the dance this evening?

Yes. That's why I was worried
when she didn't turn up.

She told me she wouldn't miss it
for the world.

It's possible we'll need formal
statements from you all

tomorrow, but for the moment,
thank you for waiting behind.

She was happy, excited to go
to a dance this evening,

surrounded by friends,

not exactly the profile of someone
who's about to commit suicide.

Yes. In other words,
if it looks like a duck,

walks like a duck,
quacks like a duck,

it's looking more and more unlikely
that it is, in fact, a duck.

Question!

If you wanted to poison someone or
give them an overdose or something,

but you didn't really want them
to know what you were doing,

which of course you wouldn't, how
would you go about disguising it?

Put it in their food?

And you'd need a food with
a strong flavour,

something that assaulted their taste
buds, rendered them inefficient.

Something like... Curry?

And Dr Redding's last meal was?

Chicken curry.

See, that's why her main meal
was mostly eaten

when her dessert wasn't even
touched.

How could it be?
She was already dead.

You were right, Camille.

This isn't suicide. It's murder.

But if the killer poisoned her food,
they left the sleeping pills

and the water to make it look
like a suicide.

After they'd done that...
How did they get out?

Leaving the door locked
and bolted from the inside?

OK, let's just, er, park that in
the "still to be established" column

for the moment.

But if it is murder...

We'd need to interview her friends
again, and the staff.

Then let's do that.
Dwayne, background checks, er,

finish checking through the victim's
personal possessions.

Fidel, chase up the lab results, get
toxicology to look into the curry,

and we need her autopsy
booked in as soon as possible.

I want to know what poison
was in that curry.

Come on, Camille!

We need to get back in
the victim's room again -

we must be missing something.

If she was murdered,
there has to be another way out.

The Chandlers - Pam and Jim -

there was a little something
going on between them,

when he talked about the victim.
It wasn't much, it was just

the way she looked at him. What
was that? It was jealousy, maybe.

Something, something more sinister?

Erm... What?

Sorry. I should've called first.

Humph?

Well, say something. Yes. Right.
Er...

Maybe ask me what I'm doing here?

Good. Yes, that's the one.
Excellent! What are you doing here?

The board sent me to Martinique
for a week.

I knew that you were only
an hour away and I...

should've phoned.

Yes.

Sorry. Er, Camille, this is Sally.

My wife.

My ex-wife.

Are you an ex? How's that work?

Pleased to meet you.
I've heard so much about you.

Really? Yes! All good! All good!

Er, you know, given
the circumstances, anyway!

Well, I'll leave you and...

Oh, no, no, no! Of course,
you're... you're working! But, erm...

maybe we could meet later?

Er, ye-yes. OK.

Six? Seven? Absolutely.

Which?

Oh, 6.30.

Er, where?

There's a bar on the harbour.
Catherine's?

All right. I'll be there.

I'm sorry to intrude.

Bye.

Are you all right?

Yes, fine. Never better.

What are we doing?

Going to the retirement home?
Of course! Of course!

OK, so, the kitchen prepared
two room service meals

yesterday, both chicken curry.

And Sylvaine took one of them
to Judith Musgrove in her room,

and the other she delivered
to Emma Redding.

Sylvaine doesn't think anyone could
have tampered with the food

while she was delivering it,
and as at least one other guest had

the same meal, it couldn't have been
tampered with in the kitchen.

Are you listening to any of this?
Yes, every word. Go on.

At 5:45pm, Sylvaine collected
the empty plates from outside

Judith's room, but Dr Redding
hadn't put hers out.

Not surprising as she was almost
certainly dead by then.

So Sylvaine is the last
person to see the victim alive

and she's the only person who could
have doctored the curry...

..so what if she's our killer?

Sir?

Sir? Mmm?
Why don't you take some time off?

What for?

To go and talk to your wife?

I heard everything you said.
Really? Yes.

Two room service meals, both of them
chicken curry. The other one fine

so it couldn't have been
tampered with in the kitchen.

Manager adamant it never left her
sight, so maybe she's our killer.

Why do you suppose she didn't phone?

Who? Sally.

Because she was afraid you would
tell her not to come.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Dwayne? Mm-hmm?

Is everything all right, Mr Witton?

Yep, just getting some air.

Thank you.

Sir? Here.

The only way in or out
of the chalet is through this door,

which was locked and bolted
from the inside. It's impossible.

That was Dwayne.

There were three entries
in the victim's diary for yesterday.

The concert with Mr Campbell,
the dance... And?

And a note to meet
Judith Musgrove at 3pm.

Judith Musgrove. We spoke to her
last night, didn't we? Yes, we did.

I wonder why she didn't feel
the need to mention it then.

14 points! Mmm! Mm-hm!

Miss Musgrove.
Can we have a word, please?

Of course.

I'd better make myself scarce.

No, stay,
I'm sure it won't take very long.

How can I help?

You had an appointment

to meet Dr Redding
yesterday afternoon at three.

I'm a retired solicitor.

Emma made an appointment
to see me about her will.

She did?

She changed her will
just before she died?

Actually, she didn't - that's why
I didn't mention it last night.

Everything looks
absolutely in order.

Nothing that needs to be altered.
Oh, good.

Everything was left to her husband,
unless he predeceased her,

in which case, her estate would
go straight to her son, Ben.

Her husband died a few years ago.

And I was able to tell her
not to worry about it.

Her son would still
inherit on her death.

Did she say why she felt the need
to check her will? No, she didn't.

And how was she
when you were with her?

I thought she was pre-occupied.
Worried, even.

I'm sorry, I should've told you
all this yesterday. Shouldn't I?

I'm sorry, but I don't understand
what the problem is.

What's going on? It's like
the fifth time I've called.

My inspector's waiting
for those results.

No, I'll hold.

Any luck?

Excuse me? Finding out
what happened to Dr Redding?

It's, er, Mr...?

Witton. David Witton.
Were you a friend of hers?

Of course. Everyone knew Emma.

Life and soul of the party.

Close friends?
Well, not really.

I've only been here six months.

Truth is, I'm still finding my feet.
Then why the interest?

Just after a bit of gossip.

It's like currency in here.

Well, thank you very much
for your help, Mr Redding.

No, no. Of course.

As soon as we have any developments,
we'll let you know. Bye.

He and his mother were
clearly very close.

He said he only spoke to her
for a few minutes yesterday,

but she seemed her normal self.

Really?

And yet she was worried
when she went through her will,

so what changed? And why did she
need a solicitor to look at it?

Could it be a coincidence?

That Emma got her will checked
the same day she was murdered?

No. No way.
It's connected. But why?

Fidel? Sir?
Background checks throw anything up?

We have Colin Campbell.
He was a Captain in the Army.

Divorced five years ago,
moved to Saint Marie.

In a relationship with Dr Redding.
Everyone said they were inseparable.

Right, Sally Musgrove? Judith.
Judith, Judith Musgrove?

Yeah, she's a retired solicitor.

She's the home's
longest-serving resident.

No family, never married.
But by all accounts,

she's a very good friend
of the victim. Hmm.

Jim and Sally Chandler?
Jim and Pam Chandler, sir.

They're old friends of Emma's.
Or rather he is.

They worked together in the UK.
Nothing showing for them.

There was someone else
we saw at the home.

David Witton.

Do you have anything on him?
Yes. David Witton.

Now, he's a retired teacher.

He only came out to the island
about six months ago.

But by all accounts, he's a bit
of a loner. Doesn't really mix much.

And what about the manager -
Sylvaine?

Right. Nothing on file.
But I rang my mother,

cos she's good friends
with Sylvaine's family.

She told me Sylvaine's married,
has a couple of kids,

is involved
in the local church and...

Well, she just laughed when
I asked if she could be a killer.

And yet, if it was the curry
that poisoned Emma...

Sylvaine is the only person
who ever had access to it. Hmm.

Honore Police Station.

It's Dwayne... Yes, go on.

You've been very helpful, sir.
This is great.

Thank you very much. Bye-bye.

So what you got?

I found these architect's drawings
for the refurbishment of this bar

in the victim's possessions,
so I thought I'd check it out.

Turns out the bar was sold
just under a year ago. Who to?

Colin Campbell.

But these plans were in Emma's room?
They sure were.

But the thing is,
this place is virtually worthless.

Turtles started breeding here a
while back. The bar was closed down

and a preservation order
slapped on the whole beach.

There's no building and no
possibility of any redevelopment.

So how come these plans exist? And
why were they in our victim's room?

There's no law against foreigners
owning property on the island.

Of course not. But the bar you bought
is derelict. Until we re-develop it.

So what's the plan? I buy
the bar - that's my investment.

But developing it is going
to cost at least $60,000.

And you planned to raise
the money how? Friends. Oh?

Oh, Judith's already put some in.
How much? 40K.

Judith's already given you $40,000?

That's right.
But that's still not enough.

Did you ever mention your plans
to Dr Redding? Of course.

How much money did you ask her for?
I never asked Emma for a penny.

And yet, we found the plans
for your bar in her room.

Well, she took an interest,
of course she did,

but I didn't ask her to invest.

You know there's a preservation
order on that beach?

You'll never be able to build on it.

And yet you still took
your friend's money?

I intend to fight
to get the order lifted.

Let me make two predictions.
One - I bet you never told Judith

about the preservation order
before you took her money.

And two - the 40 grand
she gave you is in an account

which you could clear out at
any time. What are you implying?

Did Dr Redding refuse to give you
the rest of the money you needed?

No!

Look, you've got me all wrong.

The reason I was so worried

when Emma didn't show up
for the party that night

was that I was going
to ask her to marry me.

I loved her.

So have Fidel get in touch

with whoever's in charge
of planning at the town hall.

See if Colin Campbell
stood any chance of lifting

that preservation order
on the beach bar.

Do you think he's a con man?

That maybe Emma Redding discovered
what he was up to?

Oh, so he poisoned her
before she could tell Judith

that she stood to lose $40,000?
Well, it's a possible who and why.

But we can't prove anyone killed her

if we can't establish how
they got out that bloody room.

You know, maybe we can finish
a little early, if you want to get home?

Mmm? Have a shower.
Get changed before your date.

Oh, it's hardly that, Camille.
Your wife came a long way to see you.

It must be important.

Sir? Camille?

The autopsy report. Ah!

The only food the pathologist
found in the victim's stomach

was the curry, rice and beans.
Yes, her last meal, as we suspected.

So have they identified the poison?

Cause of death was a massive
overdose of Propenten -

the sleeping pills
we found beside the body.

All right,
wasn't expecting that, but...

Her killer must've got
the sleeping pills,

crushed them up
and put them in the curry.

Then he or she got into the room

and staged the scene
to look like suicide.

Before getting through a door

that was locked and bolted
from the inside. How?

OK, could someone have given Emma
the poison outside her room?

She goes inside and bolts
the door herself? No, no way.

She was already in her room

when the food was delivered
on the video call to her son.

The killer must've got the
Propenten into the curry... somehow.

Then Sylvaine
has to be our killer.

No! Yes! She's the only person
who went near the curry.

I'm sorry, I disagree.
I don't think Sylvaine's the killer.

Why would the manager
of an old people's home

want to kill one of her residents?

Was there any indication
Sylvaine and Emma didn't get on?

Er, were they ever seen arguing?

Well, according to the residents,
Emma and Sylvaine got on very well.

Exactly, also...

Why would she want to lose
one of her paying customers, hmm?

I don't think it's Sylvaine.

Someone else got to
that curry and doctored it.

But how?

I've got the victim's credit card
statements through. Nothing unusual.

She did go out to eat a lot, though.
Five times in the past ten days.

I crosschecked dates, but there's
nothing in her diary. Amounts?

All of them $100,
all from the same restaurant.

Must be two people.
OK, check it out.

Well, erm... Ahem! I don't think
we can achieve much more today.

Er, let's go over everything again
tomorrow morning.

Hopefully, we'll have
the results back on the curry.

It's not like you to be
first to go, chief. What?

You got a hot date?

A date? No, no, erm... I, er...

Well, I mean, I would stay if
there was, er, something to, er, do.

I mean, there is no rush...
No, no, no, no. You go.

We'll see you in the morning.
Right, ahem...

I'll...

Night, chief.

Dwayne!

What?

Good evening. What can I get you?

Do you have a Pinot Grigio?
Sorry, no.

I have a Sauvignon Blanc,
it's quite dry.

Right, that'll be lovely, thank you.

Well? Well, what?

What is she like? She only
ordered a drink. Come on, Maman!

You've been serving in bars for 30
years, that's more than enough time!

She's a bitch, isn't she?
Actually, she was very sweet.

Hi.

Hi. Sorry, am I late? No. Like
what you've done with your hair.

Oh, God! Does it look very stupid?
No! I like it. It's very Humph.

Humphrey, what can I get you?

Oh, I-I would like, erm, a beer,
please, Catherine, thank you.

I don't know what to say.

That's all right. Nor do I.

Hey! What's happened to his hair?

Hey!

There is one thing
I've been meaning to tell you.

You know the car alarms you hear
when it's stopped raining?

They're not car alarms,
turns out they're...

..amazing frogs.
I know. Course you do.

Thank you. You're very welcome.

Why aren't we married any more?

I-I still don't really
know what happened.

I got your message
and listened to it over and over.

The thing is,
it doesn't really tell me anything.

Except, of course, that you didn't
love me any more, which is...

..fair enough. It's just...

Did I do something wrong? No.

Right. Good.

I just got a bit lost, Humph.

Like I didn't know
who I was any more.

Like I was drowning
in this never-ending whirlpool

of niceness and understanding
and routine.

Days and conversations just
merging into one another

until I couldn't
tell them apart any more.

Everything was just a blob. Just a
soggy, fat, huge, predictable blob.

I'm sorry.
You don't need to apologise.

This wasn't about you, Humph,
this was me. It was all me.

I thought I wanted
something different.

Something... new and exciting.

You think I'd get it, wouldn't you?
Being a botanist, I mean?

Well, the grass
isn't always greener.

I miss how smart you are.

I'm starting to realise
that letting you go...

..may well qualify as the
biggest mistake I've ever made.

Humph, I just need...

Humph...

Uh-oh.

Sir?

Ah! Just gathering my thoughts
for the day ahead.

Mmm.

I'm sorry, Camille,
if I've been a little bit, er...

preoccupied since Sally arrived.
It's very unprofessional of me.

No, it isn't. No, no, it is.
A lady lost her life.

We're duty-bound to put
everything else aside

until we find the person
responsible. Mm-hm.

So how was it? Last night?

Yes, well,
we went to your mother's bar.

I thought we would see you.
Oh, no, I was, erm...

I was busy. So?

Camille, would you mind very much
if I didn't talk about it?

Not just yet. Oh...

Of course. Thank you.

So, we had the toxicology report
back first thing. Mm-hm?

The lab tested
the curry from Emma's room

and they found no trace
of Propenten in it.

But all she ate that night
was that curry. Mm-hm.

She overdosed on Propenten.
It had to be in the curry!

The lab says not.
It really was just a plate of curry.

Then how did the killer get her
to overdose? How was she killed?

Why does nothing about this case
make any sense?

Now, a woman makes sure
her will is in order.

We then later find her alone, dead
from a sleeping pill overdose,

the empty packet
of pills beside her,

no traces of drugs found
in the food she ate before she died,

and the door is locked
and bolted from the inside.

What if it's suicide after all?

I don't believe it.

Neither do I.

Sally wants to give it
another go. Oh.

Said she'd made a terrible mistake.

OK.

And... is that what you want?
I don't know.

Yeah. Of course.

She called me this morning and asked
me to meet her for dinner tonight.

That's good. Isn't it?

I think she'll want an answer.
I'm sure she will.

So what do I say?
Depends on how you feel.

Maybe I should just concentrate on
the job in hand. Good idea. Right!

Put everything else out of my mind

and concentrate on
who killed Sally Redding.

Emma! Emma Redding!

Hey!

Ah, chief! Yes? I went to
that restaurant last night.

You know, the one where Emma
had been using her credit card?

I got them to match their CCTV
with the dates and times

of the transactions.
Yes, and what did you find?

She was there with
the same person every time.

Right, well,
Colin Campbell, I presume,

seeing as he's her boyfriend.

It wasn't Colin.

Turns out
her dining companion was...

Jim Chandler.

Hmm, I wonder if
Mrs Chandler knew about this.

You've gotta come out here.
You'd love it!

Seriously!

Bye!
'Aw, bye, Pam!'

Aw!

Good afternoon. Oh!

It's a friend of mine,
stuck in south east London.

Can you imagine?
When she could be out here!

Is your husband here?
Can I help you?

Yes, er, we'd just like
a quick word.

Yeah, OK, erm,
maybe we'd be best

down at the dining area.
It's quieter there.

Yes, of course. Nonsense!

Anything you have to say,
you can say in front of me.

Can't you?

Yes, course. Well, then...

How can I help?

Well, we're, er,
trying to establish

the exact nature of your
relationship with Emma Redding.

We know you've been having
private meals with her in town

on at least six different occasions.

Yes, you've known
each other for years.

Indeed, it was you who suggested
she come out to the island,

so I must ask again -

what was the nature of
your relationship with Emma?

Jim?

You think we were having an affair?

Well, were you?

Eight years ago,
I had cancer, of the colon.

We spotted it early, had a bit of
surgery and we cut the tumour out.

That's why Pam and I came out here.

We decided...
life was for the living.

I still go for regular checkups, of
course I do, and... the last one...

..my blood count was high.

What?

They wanted me
to go in for more tests...

and I found myself
asking Emma's advice,

just as an old friend
and a doctor.

And she said she'd go with me.

The bastard's back.

Why didn't you tell me?
I didn't want to burden you.

Not again.

That's why I told Emma
it had to be a secret.

But I, I, I thought... I know.

I'm sorry.

The restaurant we went to
was right next to the hospital.

Most of the time, I was begging Emma
to look after my Pammy for me.

It's all right. It's all right.

Camille, get in touch with
Jim Chandler's doctor,

confirm his story, would you? Yes.

Chief? Mmm?

I've just spoken to a friend of mine
at the Planning Department, and it

turns out that the beach where Colin
bought his bar was only ever

SUSPECTED of being a turtle nesting
site.

If he challenged
the preservation order,

there's every chance he'd get
it overturned.

And worse than that, if he's
a con man, he's a very bad one.

I spoke to his bank.

He opened a joint account
with Judith Musgrove.

There's $40,000 in it.

But no-one's ever touched a cent.

So.

Colin's not a con man,
and Jim wasn't having an affair.

Who killed Dr Emma Redding? Why?

And how? Thank you very much.

Sir, I might have found
another suspect. Who?

OK, so I've been looking into
David Witton, and here's the thing.

He had a daughter. Had?

That's right. Because she went
into hospital ten years ago.

It was routine surgery
to have gallstones removed,

but the operation went wrong.
She died in the operating theatre.

And guess who the surgeon was
who operated on her?

Emma Redding.

You know, don't you?

What are you doing here, Mr Witton?

Either of you got any kids?

No.

Your life changes
when you become a parent.

It's like... there was a before,
but now you know - your child's

the reason you're alive,
why you're on the planet.

Dr Emma Redding
was your daughter's surgeon.

Joanna. Her name was Joanna.

Her mother and me, our marriage
didn't survive. How could it?

I convinced myself that I had
to find out who had done this,

the surgeon who killed Joanna.

So you came to Saint Marie?

You make it sound so simple.

When I knew she was out here...

I only ever wanted to see her,
to talk to her,

find out what kind of person
she was.

See if she was haunted by the girl
who died on her operating table.

But when it came down to it...

I didn't even have the courage
to tell her who I was.

You know, I didn't know true
loneliness

until I came to a retirement home.

I mean, look at them.

Everyone's got someone.

You probably think
I killed her, don't you?

Did you?

There were times when I could've
done. Maybe even would have done.

But no.

I didn't.

You were right,
Fidel, David Witton only came here

because of Emma Redding.

Oh, so what do you think?
Is he our prime suspect?

Well, he's certainly got a motive.

What's the problem?

I don't know, he seemed genuine.
I don't think he's our killer.

Yeah, well,
this case is weird anyway.

If the killer can get out through
a locked and bolted door,

there's no point in catching them.
How we going to keep them locked up?

You know something,
he's got a point. Yes!

Well, I'll see you
both in the morning.

Have a good night, Camille.
Where's the Chief?

Ah! He has a date. What?!

Yeah.

You're kidding me! Mmm-mm.

Eh... Who with?

Hi! Hi.

Am I late? No.

I brought you one of these.
What is it?

Try it, you'll love it.

It's like the whole of the Caribbean
but in a glass.

Oh!

It's a bit strong.

Well, it's basically neat rum.
That's why it's so Caribbean.

Yeah. Give me a gin and slim
any time!

Good day? Not really. Oh?

No, I've got this case
that's driving me a bit mad.

You see, there's this woman...
Excuse me?

Could I possibly swap
this for a gin and slimline tonic?

Of course. Thank you.

Have you thought about what I said?

I've thought of little else.

Well?

Well... Chief!

Ah! Dwayne, Fidel. Hello.

Er... Sally, this is
Dwayne, Fidel - we work together.

Very nice to meet you.
You too.

Mrs Goodman, welcome to Saint Marie.
Thank you.

Well, we'll leave you two
alone, shall we? Fidel! Sir.

Bye. Bye. Bye.

Oh, they seem nice. Yes, they are.

What are you doing?
Having a beer.

No, no, no, no. You promised me
you wouldn't come in here!

HE promised. I didn't commit.

He made me.

You see, this is exactly why
I didn't want to tell you.

For you... and fell out the window.

I have missed you.

Yeah, see, this is the bit where you
say you've missed me too, and then...

Course I miss you.

So?

Something you said yesterday.

I wrote it down. Sorry, er...

I thought it was important to
remember the words you said.

You said you were
drowning in a never-ending

whirlpool of niceness,
understanding and routine.

God, that's sounds awful.

Everything was a soggy, fat, huge,
predictable blob.

Humph, look... Just let me finish.

OK?

See, you're right.

Sorry, you WERE right, I mean.

To feel that way.

It's exactly how it was.

For me too.

What?

I thought if we could get away,
start anew, find something

different together, find something
exciting...

..get out of our soggy blob,
we could be like we used to be.

That's what I wanted too.

Only you didn't, did you, Sal?

You didn't come with me.

I was here...

..waiting for our fresh
start, and you left me

a message on an answer-phone.

I was trying to save us, and you
were trying to save yourself.

So...

I found different...

..and I found new,
and I found exciting...

..and I did all that without you.

I'm someone else now, Sal.
Don't be ridiculous.

It's true, Sally. I'm rum punch
and you're still gin and slim.

God...

You're dumping me?

Sorry, Sal, it's not what I wanted.

It's just what happened.

What you made happen.

One of us should go over there, no?
Not me, sir!

I'll go.

The first time, you walked out -
and now her?

You weren't here the first time.

I was hiding.

Oh.

So, can I ask what happened?

It's finished.

I thought she said she'd
made a mistake.

Yes, she did. She was wrong.

I'm sorry. Don't be.

Is there anything I can do?

Yes, yes, there is, actually.

OK.

What any self-respecting colleague
would do in the circumstances.

Get me extremely drunk and then pour
me into a cab.

It's a deal. Maman! Two rum punches,
please.

Oh, wow. And keep them coming!

OK!

Morning! Morning, sir! Chief.
Ah, Camille! Mmm....

Everything all right?

I'm not sure how I got into the cab
last night, assume it was you,

so thank you. Why aren't you
hurting?

Bacon, egg, sausage, baked beans,
two slices of fried bread.

You should try it. Right.

I've been thinking, the crow
and the pitcher. What?

You know, the old fable.

A crow finds a pitcher of water
one day and wants a drink,

but the thing is, the neck
of the jug is too long for him

to reach down to the water.

So he tries and he tries
and he tries

until he realises
he needs a new approach.

Rather than trying to reach down,
he gets pebbles and drops them

in to the pitcher
and brings the water up to him.

I'm not with you, sir, sorry.

A fresh approach.

Your point being?

We've spent our whole time
trying to reach down to the water,

so why not make the water
reach up to us?

One minute.

Let me open the door for you!

Step away from the door!

Oof! Ugh!

Are you OK, sir?

So, two men break down a door -
that requires a lot of force.

I don't understand.

Don't worry, Camille, neither do I,
but we've hit a brick wall

and I'm trying to come at it
from a different angle.

Boy, it's lucky the door was
only bolted, chief,

and not locked as well,
or I reckon it would

definitely have
felt like a brick wall. No.

Wait! Maybe you're right!
About what?

But what does that mean?

If the door was bolted first...
Yes, of course! But the curry...

How can you kill someone by putting
sleeping pills in a curry

without putting sleeping pills in
the curry?

You can't.

How can you take any trace of the pills
out of the curry after it's been eaten?

You can't do that either.

Yet if the only explanation is that
someone did,

then that's what must have happened.
He must be still drunk.

I heard that, Dwayne.
Unless it's different.

What if the door isn't the door,

or at least not the door that we
thought it was?

What if the curry wasn't
the curry?

'Sylvaine doesn't think
anyone could have tampered with her
food whilst she was delivering it.'

Gordon Bennett!

Who?

That's why it didn't make sense!

You know who the killer is?

And how they got
out of the locked room?

You know what? I think I do.

I just need to make
a phone call first.

Good afternoon.

As each one of you has at one time
or another fallen under

the spotlight of our suspicion,

I felt that you were all owed
an explanation.

Sorry! Something wrong
with that step.

I felt you were all owed
an explanation of how

Emma Redding was killed.

So she was killed?

Yes, she was. And what's more,
her killer is in this room.

Why you looking at me?

Because Emma Redding was killed
by the curry you took to her room.

I didn't do anything!

Don't worry,
I know you didn't kill anyone.

Because after you put
the tray down

was when the real killer
entered the room.

And that was you...

Me? No!

..wasn't it...

..Judith?

What are you talking about?!

But tell me, when did you get
hold of Emma's sleeping pills?

It wouldn't have been hard. Not for
a, er... For a good friend.

But as for the trick of how you
got into and out of a locked room,

that was harder to work out.

But then I realised, that's why Emma
looked at her will

that afternoon.
It was at your suggestion.

And it was very clever.

Because not only did it
allow you to tell us

that Emma was not her
usual, upbeat self...

Thought she was pre-occupied.
Worried, even.

Then suggested she was maybe getting
her affairs in order...

It also gave you access
to Emma's room,

where, of course, she kept
a chalet key.

And when you had that, you were
ready to commit murder, weren't you?

You ordered chicken curry
that night,

which you then poisoned
with sleeping pills.

You then went to Emma's room
and pretended there'd been a mix up.

You'd ordered fish,
the other curry that night,

but you'd got her chicken.

Which was the one risk you took.

Because there was a witness
to the switchover, wasn't there?

Even though that witness was
thousands of miles away at the time.

Emma was on a video call to her son
when you went into the room.

In fact, you were relying on that
fact - she was distracted.

You just had to hope
that we wouldn't ask him

if anyone else came into the room.

And why would we? Her death was
so obviously a suicide.

We rang Emma's son.

He heard you come in whilst
he was still talking to Emma.

I think they've
got our dinners mixed up.

I've got your chicken curry
and you'll have my fish.

Thanks, Judith.

So, love...

Once Emma had finished speaking
to her son, she ate her dinner.

And, as we'd already suspected,
the flavours of the curry hid

the taste of the overdose that
was about to kill her.

By the time she realised what was
happening, it was just too late.

At which point, it was now time
to make it look like a suicide.

Mmm. First, you needed some
leftovers that had no trace

of sleeping pills in. That was
easy. You already had Emma's curry.

And you already had her key,
so you could let yourself in.

You then made sure you left Emma's
empty packet of sleeping

pills at her side,
and a glass of water.

It was then the work of a moment to
replace the incriminating

curry with the plate you brought.

And now the scene was set
for the final part of the illusion.

You were going to get
out of a locked room.

All it took was a little
re-enactment to realise

how you did it.

See, first you opened the latch
lock,

but made sure the steel
bolt was closed.

The door frame was old. It wouldn't
have been too hard to break

the bolt, not for someone who was
already prepared to commit murder.

But then, having smashed only
one of the locks, you left,

using the other lock
to secure the door.

You then placed the plate
of poisoned curry on a tray

outside your own room, knowing that
Sylvaine would carry it away later.

An almost perfect murder.

Because when the door was
finally smashed in,

you knew that we'd find
the remnants of two bust locks

and presume that they were both
broken at the same time.

The suicide wasn't a suicide,

The curry wasn't THE curry,
and the locked

and bolted door wasn't locked
and bolted, it was just locked.

You know, I should've realised when
David here said that he didn't know

true loneliness until he came here.

Because he's right.
Everyone here has someone else.

And you had Colin, didn't you?

Always doing the crossword together.
Always there for one another.

In fact, you waited on him
hand and foot -

like an old married couple,
if you didn't know any better.

You even put $40,000
of your own money into Colin's bar,

never even checking for a moment
whether it was a non-starter or not.

Proving love really is blind.

It must have been wonderful to
finally find a companion...

and then Emma came along.

'The reason that I was
so worried that Emma hadn't shown up

'for the dance that night was that
I was going to ask her to marry me.

'I loved her.'

You wanted Colin for yourself.

And you were prepared to do anything
possible to get him back.

You killed out of jealousy,
pure and simple.

I'm so sorry!

Take her away.

I hear congratulations are in order.
Thank you, sir.

But there was
something else I wanted to say.

A little bird tells me
that your wife was here.

Yes, sir. There was also
talk of a reconciliation.

Well, sir, erm...
I'd hate to lose you, Inspector.

And I'm sure your team
feel the same.

Don't worry, sir.
I'm not going anywhere.

Well, not for the foreseeable
future, anyway.

Er, Sally and me, well,
Sally and I...

it's not really worked out, sir.

Oh. I see.

Then I am sorry for you.

But I'm pleased for us.

Same here.

"HOT, HOT, HOT"

Oh, hey!

Who's for a dance, then?

That would be me,
Dwayne Myers. Come on!

Me too! Two for the price
of one, eh?

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry, sir, about you
and Mrs Goodman.

Oh, don't be, Fidel.
These things happen.

Hm. I must say I was surprised.

Not half as much as I was. Oh?

Can you keep a secret, Fidel?

Yes, sir, I can.

Well, the thing is,
I was just about to change my mind

and tell Sally that we should try
and make another go of it,

when I looked across the room
and saw something.

What? Sergeant Camille Bordey.

So, erm...

..you...
..love Camille?

Well, yes, I think
I very probably do.

I don't know why
it's taken me so long.

I mean, look at her.

She's wonderful.

You know what, sir?
You should tell her.

Heavens, no.
And risk spoiling all this?

No, things are best
left as they are.

Bye, bye, bye, bye, bye, bye,
bye!

That was good, eh?!

Everything OK? Yes, everything is
just as it should be. Cheers.

Cheers! Salut!

Beautiful!

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