All language subtitles for S01E03 - The Scapegoat

[theme music]

Is that him?

Hey, he's here.

This is the holy flame which shall consume our wickedness

and purge our people of evil for the year to come.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn, Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

Burn.

And the name of the missing man

is Jonathan Riddle, building contractor

and local undertaker.

Now he was last seen by his family a week ago,

Friday evening about 7:30, when he went back to his works yard.

But his wife reported him missing Sunday evening.

Now local knowledge would seem to suggest this is more

than a missing person inquiry.

Detective Superintendent Wycliffe.

Your team's over at the sunday school,

sir, with Sergeant Luff.

You found some clothes?

Found them in the afternoon, sir, up by the Gardner's farm.

There's a bar in there.

Kids turned them up playing.

Mrs. Riddle identified them as what her husband

was last seen wearing.

Personal effects?

Just a wallet.

30 quid in it still.

Hmm.

Looks to be blood on the collar of the shirt,

doesn't it?

Do you reckon he was--

If he was planning on going missing,

I doubt he'd do it naked.

Get these off to Chepstow, would you, Constable?

Luff, sir.

Eva Luff.

Anyone spring to mind who might have had it in for him?

Not assuming, sir.

Bit of bad blood between him and the local farmer,

Ephraim Gardner.

About what?

Gardener's daughter, Asenath, had a kiddie about six months

back. No father, see.

None as would give it a name, leastways.

Eph got it into his head that Riddle was responsible.

Why?

She used to work up Riddle's yard mound.

I know it's a bag of nonsense, but he

hadn't been right since he lost his missus,

not that he'd do anything, mind.

Bark's worse than his bite with Ephraim.

Anyone else?

Not really, mum.

What's all this about a wheel?

The wheel?

That's just folk getting daft ideas in their heads.

It's Detective Superintendent Wycliffe, Sergeant.

What sort of daft ideas?

Scapegoat ceremony.

Every year come midsummer's eve, the village

builds a damn great wheel, and they put an effigy inside it.

An effing what?

Thank you, Potter.

He's a scapegoat, see, bit like a Guy Fawkes, mask,

all that.

Spirit of evil, what have you.

And to bring the village good luck in the next 12 months,

they set fire to it and roll it down off the headland

into the sea, sort of thing.

What's that got to do with Riddle?

One of the young girls at the ceremony,

drunk likelier than not, thought that as the wheel went bowling

down towards the edge of the cliff that the mask fell away

and it was Riddle inside.

[cough] Sorry, sir.

You had words with your husband last Friday evening,

Mrs. Riddle.

What was all that about?

Just, oh, nothing, I suppose.

Weren't nothing at all, Sarah.

You don't want him to go back to work.

She didn't want him to go back to work.

That's what it was over, never mind nothing.

John always went back the yard Fridays after tea.

Hah.

Way she let off at him.

You didn't think it odd, his not returning?

Well, he went off in a mood.

Can you blame him?

He worked bloody hard for you and Matthew, and all you can do

is go on at him.

Oh, shut up, shut up, shut up, you old witch.

I can't stand it.

It's my husband.

My son.

I'll put you in a home.

This is my home, girl, long before you ever came here,

so don't you go talking to me about no home.

Uh, uh, I'm sorry.

In front of the superintendent, mother, really.

What will he think of us?

Had he stayed away before?

Well, the odd night.

He liked to drink.

Likes, I mean.

He likes a drink.

And on the Saturday, you weren't

worried when he didn't turn up?

Well, I reckon maybe he was after teaching me a lesson,

staying away.

It was the weekend.

Yes.

Tuh.

I said to him, Matthew, I said, your father's

having a game with me.

And relax.

No, I, I, I, I, thought he might have gone to Frome.

We've got a friend that way from National Service,

drinking partner, you know.

Do you think--

He's dead?

Oh, mother.

Why do you say that, Mrs. Riddle?

I know my son.

He's never stopped away from home for any length of time.

He'd have been to work Monday if he was able.

Do you think my husband's dead, Superintendent?

We're keeping an open mind, but, uh,

finding his clothes, obviously we can't rule out

the possibility of foul play.

Murder, you mean.

Friday before last, he withdrew

1,250 pound from his account.

Now Karen, turn that round a bit.

That's it.

Was that cash?

Yeah.

That's a lot of money for a small branch to be carrying,

isn't it?

Mr. Riddle pays his men in cash each week.

Normally withdraws a 1,000, but that Friday

he took out the extra 250.

Any idea what for?

None at all.

We don't pry, inspector.

Well, we do.

In fact, we make something of a virtue out of it.

I saw him last when I knocked off Friday about 5:00.

I said, bye then, Mr. Riddle.

And he said, see you Monday, Melanie.

And I said no, I'd see him Saturday at the scapegoating.

Oh, morning sir.

Morning.

A building or, uh?

No, no.

Oh, bereavement then, is it?

This is Detective Superintendent Wycliffe.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

I'm looking for Matthew Riddle.

Oh, Mr. Matthew's in the [inaudible] with Mrs.

Pengallan.

Thank you.

[knocks] Mr. Riddle?

Hmm?

Could you close the door, please?

Relatives, see.

Yes, yes, of course.

You shouldn't be in here at all, really, by rights.

I'm not a customer.

Detective Superintendent Wycliffe.

Police?

Oh no, better not shake, eh?

Quite right.

So, looking for dad, is it?

Yes, yes.

I tell you, I've been so worried over him.

I don't know all I've been working, that's a fact.

My heart's just not in it today.

It's concerning the disappearance

of Mr. Jonathan Riddle.

No, he's respected, like death.

We all get an appointment with him sooner or later.

He's not what you call a popular man, was he?

Had a bust up with him yourself, didn't you, Sid?

Johnny Riddle?

What, that old basket?

Sid Passmore, general tinker, cars and so forth.

Runs a burger place up Frontier City.

Was both chased in the same field, eh, Sid, you and Johnny.

That crafty old bugger went and disowned me.

Bury the hatchet now, though?

Oh, yes.

Life's too short for grudges.

You want to tell that to Ephraim.

[laughter]

Could you think of any reason why your father

might want to disappear?

No money worries, everything all right with the business?

Mr. Little?

Business is fine.

[woman screams]

Are you all right, my love?

I gave it to him when he come back from Mr.

[inaudible] funeral.

He come out of his office and slung it straight in the bin.

What is it?

Mr. Riddle got a package Friday, sir.

About 8-ish Friday night, some old

boy saw Riddle heading on his own towards Westhead Point.

On foot?

Yeah.

he was set for Ephraim Gardner's farm.

That's according to your witness, eh, [inaudible]??

Yeah, that's right, sir.

Gardner's-- that's where his clothes were found.

Bloke's a complete nutter, apparently.

Fancies himself as a druid.

Is he a farmer?

Yeah.

The touch of the weekend [inaudible] him.

He's the guy that organizes the scapegoat thing.

Have a word.

See if Riddle came by his place Friday night.

Sir?

The wheel's been spotted.

[seagulls singing]

[ocean waves crashing]

Quite enough?

Sir.

How was this scapegoat attached to the wheel?

Tied, sir, hands and feet.

With what?

Sash, done up quite tight, I believe.

Who made it?

Ephraim Gardner.

[gravel crunching]

Mr. Gardner?

[door opening, bell jingling]

[knocking on door] Mr. Gardner?

Hi, Mr. Gardner.

Who might you be?

Dad?

Mind your business, Asenath.

What are you doing?

He was in the house!

Police officer, miss.

Says you. Off my land!

[thud] [scream]

[gunshot]

[chickens clucking]

You sent a package to Riddle's yard--

sheep's heart, a tarot card.

Tower struck down.

You prove it.

Do you think Riddle is the father of Asenath's baby?

The parentage of my grandson is no concern of the police.

All right?

Did Riddle come around to your house

that particular Friday evening, Mr. Gardner?

No.

You sure about that?

All right.

All right.

Let's talk about the wheel.

Now I understand that you built the wheel yourself

in one of your sheds, the shed where

Riddle's clothes were found.

I've told Sergeant Luff I don't know how they got there.

Hm.

Will was in there till when?

Saturday afternoon, eve of the festival.

Would it have been possible for someone

to get into your shed Friday night, remove the scapegoat,

and substitute a body dressed in the scapegoat's clothes?

If you don't want to listen to no gossip--

people around here will make up any old rubbish.

Could it have happened?

It could have, but it didn't.

Now the legend says it's bad luck

if the scapegoat washes up.

That's right, isn't it?

The sea cleanses us of our sin.

But so far, the scapegoat's never been washed back up,

has it?

It's bound tightly.

Interesting findings, sash plaited with slow burning fuse.

That's why the scapegoat never came back, Mr. Gardner.

Not yet, it hasn't, no.

But this year--

I had a dream.

The scapegoat was reaching up to me from the depths,

pulling me down.

His mouth was full of blood.

And he kissed me, and I couldn't breathe.

You mark my words, Mr. Wycliffe.

This year he's coming back.

[helicopter propellor noise]

[scraping toast]

I'm very sorry, Mrs. Riddle.

[sobbing]

[bar chatter]

Sorry.

I didn't expect it--

just-- me dad, see.

That's all right.

Mr. Riddle, there's a possibility your father might

not have taken his own life.

In which case--

He was killed?

He could have been murdered.

Yeah.

Sorry.

But I have to ask you where you were that Friday night?

I went to Penzance, to the pictures.

Alone?

How did you get back home?

I was late.

Well, the car had packed up on the way back.

I went by Sid Passmore's about 11:30.

He'd just came back from Frontier City.

So that was a bit of luck.

Because he come back with me and got her started.

What was the matter?

Oh, crap in the carb is what Sid said.

And I said to him, I said, I haven't

got to do that every time I drives her, have I?

Crap in the carburetor, like--

he'd fold up laughing.

Yeah, Matthew come by about 11:00, 11:30, I reckon.

Poor fella-- his motor was banged just halfway

between here and Penzance.

- And you went back with him? - Yeah.

That's right, love.

Took me a bloody age to get it going.

Car was mucked up with God knows what.

Finally got her shifted about two.

Did you see anybody pass on the way back?

To be honest, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

Good Lord himself could've gone by on a skateboard singing

"Hallelujah," and I doubt if I'd have seen him.

Oh, him being thrown against the rocks hasn't done us

any favors.

He's nothing but a collection of lacerations, contusions,

fractures, five or six deep traumatic injuries

to the skull, lungs and airways waterlogged.

How long had he been in the water?

Six or seven days at least, I'd say.

Was he alive when he went in?

Well, he has sea water in his lungs.

And yes, he was.

Was he?

Well, I don't know yet.

I won't know till the lab has done

their sodium chloride test.

That will take a couple of days.

Any bones, wrists, or ankles?

No, no, no.

The way things stand at the moment,

he could either have been pushed off the top of the cliff

or walked into the sea of his own accord.

Is there anything else?

There's stomach contents.

Well, yeah.

If you must.

Meal of ham and tomatoes, well on their way to being digested.

He's also consumed several sherries,

a large amount of nuts, raisins, and, I think, Turkish delight.

[car engine noise]

[birds singing]

[inaudible], sir.

Great.

[door closing]

[pages rustling]

Did Matthew sing the delivery notes?

Yes, sir.

We checked with the girl.

It's his job to order the goods and sign for them on delivery.

There's one here dated the 14th.

But the supplier's invoiced Riddle

for one WC Sweet and Green and one stainless steel

worktop, neither of which appears

on the corresponding delivery note.

Yet Matthew signed it all correct.

So he's been robbing his father blind--

over ordering the gear, and then selling off the surplus.

I was paying him back, something each week

out of my wages.

How long had it been going on?

12 months.

How much did you make?

A few thousand.

What did you do with it?

I spent it.

All of it?

I am partial to a game of cards.

I meant to tell you.

I should have, I know.

But with what's happened, I have enough trouble

without all that.

[seagulls singing]

[ocean crashing]

[big wave splashes]

Hello?

I've been admiring the house.

Oh, yes?

Yeah, I was wondering how it came to be built here.

I'm sorry?

Detective Superintendent Wycliffe--

I'm with the--

Oh, yes, yes.

I was on my way to the Gardner's, actually.

I saw the house. Mrs.?

Miss Penrose, Mariah Penrose.

I'm teacher at our little school here.

Lovely view.

Yes.

You live here alone, Miss Penrose?

No, with my father-- he's home, but he

wouldn't have come to the door.

Why's that?

He's crippled with arthritis.

That's why the house is where it is, why we're where we are.

The council acquired it way back.

It was for the man who looked after the sewage outfall.

He had to be here to open the sluice

whenever the tide was right.

That was my father's job.

So who does the sluices now?

Oh, they built a new outfall the other side of town.

We've stayed here.

Come in.

The thing is, Miss Penrose, we're conducting an inquiry.

Oh, yes, the undertaker--

I know.

We think he might have passed this way Friday evening,

perhaps on his way to the Gardner's.

Well, if that's where he was going, he didn't come by here.

- You didn't see him then? - No.

Or your father?

Dad's window faces the sea.

Oh, yes, of course, yes.

All right.

Well, I won't waste any more of your time.

How long are you here?

For a while, I expect.

Well, if you're by this way again,

you're welcome to pop in for a drink.

I'll bear that in mind.

Thank you.

Dad's out.

It's you I want to see.

Oh, yeah?

[bell jingling]

Come in.

Thank you.

[door closing]

Why have you been covering up for Matthew Riddle?

Don't know what you're talking about.

When did you tell him you were pregnant?

About a year ago, was it--

around the time he started stealing from his father?

What?

Matthew's stealing?

How much did he give to you?

If you don't tell me, he will.

Do you have to tell my dad?

Tell him what?

Well, he's--

Hang on a minute, Miss Gardner.

What sort of people do you think we are?

Everything you tell me is held in the strictest confidence.

Information which is only of a personal nature

is no concern of mine.

Well, if Dad knew about Matthew,

he'd want me to marry him.

Would that be such a bad thing?

God, I wouldn't marry Matthew if he

were the last man on Earth.

I had it off with him.

That's different.

Of course, yes.

Yeah, well, not that he'd have me-- afraid

his dad might not approve.

Did his dad ever come here?

Never-- well, if he had done--

Father couldn't stand him.

And Matthew?

Happened when Dad went to Brittany, nine day excursion--

why I was left here alone.

He came then?

Yeah.

Three times-- well, I'd been out with him once or twice,

you know, Penzance, pictures.

Well, with Dad away, that's when it happened.

You used to work in Riddle's yard, didn't you?

Hm.

Did Matthew ever talk to you about his father?

Well, like, what?

How he got on with his wife?

He had a woman.

Matthew told you that?

No.

I worked that one out for meself.

Maybe I should have been a detective, eh?

Why do you think he had a woman?

I went about the office late one Friday.

Well, Riddle always made a big thing

about working on the books for Friday evening,

only he weren't there.

Well, that's hardly-- and the johnnies--

I found his johnnies.

Yes.

Here they are.

How did she find them?

Well, he got caught in the rain at the funeral.

She took the jacket to hang it over the radiator,

and they fell out.

And it's as the man said, he don't need them for his wife,

do he?

You think he had a mistress?

Let's hope so.

An affair?

No, no, that's impossible.

Did you and Mr. Riddle use contraceptives at all?

Oh, I don't believe this.

Mrs. Riddle?

No.

Why was that?

We didn't need to.

We're finished with all that.

You see, we found some condoms in your husband's funeral suit.

Do you have any idea?

No!

What are you trying to do to me?

Well, it appears more than likely, Mrs. Riddle,

that your husband was murdered.

We have to explore every--

Filth!

I won't hear such filth!

Jonathan wouldn't.

He didn't have to look elsewhere.

He had me.

I'd have done.

He didn't have to with that--

Mrs. Riddle?

--dirty, filthy-- oh, I knew.

Friday's-- primping, preening, cutting the hair's in his nose.

Oh, I could smell her up.

Sick!

Sick!

Love?

You call that love?

Like-- [gasps]

Mrs. Riddle!

Mom.

What did you do to her?

She's had a heart attack.

I knew she'd not cope.

She's on tablets as it is.

I've been taking care of things.

I was being strong.

And it was all taken care of.

What was, Matthew?

Well, Dad.

We'd have been all right.

It was the shock, see.

Was that what you meant?

Yeah.

Of course, what else?

Your mother was at home when you got back that Friday night?

Yeah, watching TV.

- She'd not been out? - No.

She was in with my Nan.

She'll tell you.

Your grandmother was tired.

She'd gone to bed early, about half past eight.

Well, what are you saying?

I'm not saying.

I'm asking.

Could she have gone out?

I didn't check her shoes to see if they were wet.

I'd just come in and had a cup of tea, as usual, and a chat.

Now you first told me everyone was in bed when you came in.

Now you tell me your mother was watching television.

What program was she watching at 2:30 in the morning?

Mr. Wycliffe, this isn't a very good time for us.

I'd like you to come back to the incident room

and answer some more questions.

If you refuse, you'll be formally

cautioned and arrested.

For what?

On suspicion of being an accessory to murder.

I want a solicitor.

- Sir? - What is it?

It's Gardner.

Sir?

He left a note, sir, in the kitchen.

Says he killed Jonathan Riddle.

Riddle come here Friday, as I asked him to.

I let him sit down, and then hit him on the back

of the head with a brick.

I took him down the Penrose place to the basin,

and put him in it.

The sea did the rest.

I am sorry for it and for what I have put Asenath through.

I hope she can forgive me--

Ephraim.

Where was the girl?

Gone to the village, left the kid up there with Ephraim.

Come back and found him like he was, poor [inaudible]..

I don't believe a word of it.

Excuse me, sir?

Franks is through.

He'd love to see you, if that's all right.

Not suicide?

I sincerely doubt it.

Cut's in the right direction, left or right.

But it's a single slice.

In a case like this, you'd expect

one or two tentative slashes before the real McCoy,

not straight through the trachea first time.

The slope's all wrong.

From the rear?

Like as not--

Oh, [inaudible] found something interesting,

about 3 feet behind him.

Peter?

Got that sample?

Thank you.

Take a sniff.

I know that What is it?

Well, you've got kids, haven't you?

Is it milk?

More precisely, some of the child's feed regurgitated.

So you're saying--

oh, dear God-- you're saying Asenath's baby

was set down over there?

Which means what?

This murderer threatens the baby, Ephraim writes the note,

and the murderer comes all the way around, lays the baby down,

and cuts the man's throat?

Well, I leave the hypotheses to you, Charles.

I'd say it's not an entirely discreditable scenario.

Oh, by the way, Fred Riddle--

sodium chloride test-- - Yeah.

Well, it turned out positive--

definitely seawater.

Thanks.

For the time being, let it go out a suicide.

God knows what our murdered is capable of otherwise.

If he thinks we've fallen for it, maybe he'll relax.

I don't want any more deaths.

Are we taking any of this note on board?

We're not dealing with any great criminal intellect, Lucy.

The whole thing is a bit of a kick and scramble.

Bits of it probably on the level, though, sir.

Wrap the lie up in a truth.

Where did the killer set the body afloat?

What's happened?

There's been cars and ambulances along here all night.

Yeah.

You've more inconvenience to come, I'm afraid.

There will be some officers along presently

to have another look around.

You look terrible, Mr. Wycliffe.

Come in.

I'll make you some breakfast.

Not very hungry?

Uh, no.

Sorry.

Appetite's gone.

Never mind.

Look, I can make a phone call?

Yes, sir.

Yes, I quite understand that, sir.

But that's-- no, no, sir, that's not

the point I'm trying to make.

No.

No, in my view, it's a matter of judgment.

Yes.

And that judgment can only be made,

really, by the man on the--

No, sir.

Of course not--

I'll keep informed, sir--

on a daily basis. Yes, of course.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm going to have to ring you back.

[hangs up telephone]

[knocking on door]

He was here, wasn't he, that Friday night?

Riddle came here.

I--

Don't lie to me.

He was here.

Who told you?

Riddle did.

Matthew?

The father.

How could he?

The dead don't contact us through Ouija boards alone,

Miss Penrose.

He was here that Friday night.

He had a sherry or two, some nuts, raisins, Turkish delight.

What else?

Company, intelligent conversation.

He was quite an educated man, you know?

Well read-- it wasn't the sex.

That's the one people always assume, don't they?

He wasn't fussed about the sex.

Just wanted someone to talk to, to hold, to be held.

Did he come here every Friday night?

Almost, for the past two years, and Wednesdays,

if he could.

What time did he arrive and leave the Friday before last?

He arrived just after 8:30 and left around 11.

What time did you go to bed that night?

Right after he left--

around 11:15.

You sleep soundly?

I sleep like a log.

What is all this?

The tide's coming in.

Yes, it does, twice a day.

Matthew Riddle ever come here?

Never!

I'd like to speak to your father now.

I watched you fishing him out yesterday,

and I thought then, if that's where you've ended up,

my friend, I can make a good guess as to where you went in.

You mean the basin, at the foot of the cliff?

Mr. Penrose?

I know who you are.

I'm a cripple, Mr. Wycliffe.

But I'm not a deaf cripple, nor a blind one.

Can you remember what the tide was like that Friday evening?

Ah, ah, it was quiet, misty rain.

High tide was about a quarter past 11.

It was about 4, 4 and 1/2 foot in the basin

at the top of the flood.

The body was placed in the water at that time.

Would it have been washed away by the tide?

Unless it got snagged, certainly.

And if it was placed there later, say 2:00 o'clock?

There'd be no water around the basin after 1:00--

not enough to float a cork.

One last question, Mr. Penrose--

could a body have been placed in the basin early Saturday

morning and remain there until the next high tide

without being seen?

Not a chance, sir.

We've had the prelims of Riddle's

clothing come through, sir.

And?

Grass, mud deposit, ground under the back of the jacket,

the shirt, and trousers.

It would seem to suggest that--

He was dragged somewhere along the ground.

[door closing]

Would you wait outside please, Mr. Riddle?

I'm visiting my mother!

Think you'd appreciate it that she doesn't need overexciting.

You don't have to speak to these, Mom.

No.

I do.

I'll just be outside if you need me.

Something you want to tell me?

Yes or no?

You should have told me before--

better late than never.

Matthew had nothing to do with it.

Now that's not strictly true, is it?

I--

Look, before you go any further,

I must advise you that you're under caution.

You don't have to say anything unless you wish to do so.

What you say may be given in evidence.

Do you understand that?

It was me.

I don't know how it happened.

But I-- I can't remember.

You went out to Mariah Penrose's place.

Hm.

What time?

I slipped out of the house about half past nine.

I left my car parked around the corner.

What happened, Sarah?

(WHISPERING) I don't know.

I had enough, I suppose.

I just wanted to see the look on his face.

I waited for him till he come out, just after 11:00.

Kissed her on the porch.

Put his tongue in her mouth.

Something went in me.

She went back inside.

And he-- he come over toward the road.

It was the car he recognized.

Where were you?

Around the side of the house.

I found I had a rock in my hand.

I ran up behind him and hit him over the back of the head.

He fell down.

I don't remember.

And then what did you do?

Went home and had a bath.

Why did you send Matthew up there?

If you're going to tell it, you might as well tell it all.

Matthew-- Matthew-- he was just being kind.

He's a good boy.

What time was this?

Uh, one-- he got back from Penzance.

He said he'd tidied up.

What did you offer Sid Passmore?

I promised he could come in on the business.

It's stalled.

It ain't doing so well.

That was very generous of you.

Well, what could I do?

It's my mom.

What did you go to him in the first place?

Couldn't you manage the body alone?

Why did I go to him?

I never-- he was there when I arrived.

He saw what happened, got the body off

the road down to the basin.

But the tide was going out.

There's no way Dad was going to float out,

so we dragged him back again.

He was dead?

Yeah.

Mom had-- he saw her and--

there wasn't only the cliffs done that to his head.

So on the Saturday, with everyone up scapegoating,

you and Passmore decided to give it another go.

Yeah.

I never knew what he'd done with the clothes,

putting them on Ephraim's land, none of that.

What did you do with your father?

I brung the body back from where I came, put him in that,

and we stuck him in the boot of the car.

I drove back to the yard.

And I hid him there in one of the caskets

till the following evening.

I never touched him, Mr. Wycliffe.

I just tried to cover up what my Mom had done.

[music playing]

[horses galloping]

[gunshot]

[crash]

[gunfire]

[gunshot]

[applause, cheering]

ANNOUNCER: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

There's still more thrilling action

to come here in Frontier City.

The notorious Finn gang will soon be riding into town.

[saloon music playing]

Well, it's something to eat, is it?

Will you get your coat and come with us, Mr. Passmore?

I never done nothing.

I was just helping Matthew out.

You murdered Ephraim Gardner and Jonathan Riddle.

No!

Do you know what sodium chloride is, Mr. Passmore?

Eh?

Salt, it's common salt. The difference between fresh water

and sea water.

And it was sea water we found in Jonathan Riddle's lungs.

He was still breathing when you put him in the basin.

Dying perhaps, but you drowned him.

No!

You knew there was no love lost between Riddle

and Gardner, didn't you?

That's why you hid the clothes on his land!

I never.

I was helping Matthew out?

You'd been watching Riddle, looking for some way

to pay him back for gazumping you!

You're barmy.

By attacking Riddle, Sarah gave you more than you

could ever have wanted.

So you played the concerned friend for all it was worth.

And when you thought we might crack Matthew or his mother,

you murdered Gardener, and then tried

to make it look like suicide.

He was your scapegoat.

All right.

All right.

I've just got to turn the gas off.

Gun!

[gunshot] [screaming]

Oh, my God!

[gunfire]

Get the kids, go on!

Get the kids off the street!

Please! Get off!

There's [inaudible] man. - Come on, buddy.

What's your problem?

I'm a police officer.

There's a [inaudible] man.

Now will you just get off the street?

It's just a show, mate.

[gunshot]

[gunshot]

Ah!

[gunshot]

[glass breaking]

You've done enough, Sid, old man.

Don't be silly.

Don't shoot, Sid.

You think you're so smart.

Let's see how bloody smart you are with no bloody head

on your shoulders.

(YELLING) Halt, police!

Put that weapon down!

You pull that trigger and I'll shoot!

Drop it!

Down!

Drop it now! Go on!

Do it now!

Go on!

[grunt]

Ah!

Excuse me.

[crowd murmur]

Sid Passmore?

I'm arresting you for the murder of Ephraim

Gardner and Jonathan Riddle.

You don't have to say anything unless you wish to do so.

But what you do say will be given in evidence.

You're off then, sir?

Yes.

Thanks for all your help.

And would you also convey my gratitude to your father?

I hear there's talk of a commendation.

Yes.

Thank you, sir.

He's on the mend.

Hopes to be back by Christmas.

Oh, well, that's good.

That's very good.

[seagulls singing]

[music - theme, "wycliffe"]