All language subtitles for Wycliffe.S01E00.The.Cycle.of.Death.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_Track04

Just want to see
this land used properly.

I am using
it properly.

Father intended
me to do as I saw fit,

couldn't trust you to behave
with any sense at all.

- Why must daddy do this?

He's hardy
cold in his grave.

I loved mother.

- Yes, well, that'll have to go.

- What?

- That will have to go,

be demolished.

Oh, you are upset.

I wonder why.

Oh, yes, a part of
our childhood, eh?

And after.

- Alfred?

Fool.

Where's Christine?

- She popped out.

I said I'd keep an
eye on things.

We'll be closing in
a minute, father.

- I'm home dear, dinner soon.

- Father, you should really
be looking at other ways of--

- Gerald,

you had your chance to
have your say yesterday.

- The shop can't go on
without some kind of--

- Give it a rest.

I'm quite aware of what
the shop needs.

You were at the hut
this afternoon.

Yes I was.

- When you should've
been in the shop.

- I didn't leave 'til four.

Gerald was there and
Auntie Sara was around.

- It is your job to close up.

- I am not incapable.

- I'll make it bloody
hard for him,

take him to court.

By God, I will.

Here's some more coffee.

- What I don't understand
is why grandma couldn't

of altered it all.

- Well, she did her
best, I suppose.

But her hands were tied,
father saw to that.

- Well, mother, it's
evident now what a fool

your beloved Maurice is.

.

- Yes, thank you.

What it is to have a
free weekend .

Knight takes pawn.

- Queen takes pawn.

- Queen takes queen.

- And bishop takes queen.

- Well, there's no point
playin' it out.

- Sorry.

Don't take it to heart, Matt,

we all have our off days.

- Well, I don't mind
being beaten,

just hate being crucified.

- It'll do, yeah.

- It's funny.

- What is?

- Well, when you're young,
the ambitions you have.

- You mean dreams?

- Maybe.

Simply enough in themselves,

but, depends on how big a thing.

- Like what?

- Well, like having a bit
of money, for a start.

- I know what you're thinking.

- When I was a young
lad, in Liverpool,

I used to dream of eating
in places like this.

Some nights, I'd be coming
back from night school,

and I'd peer through the
windows of this posh restaurant.

- Near Williamson Square?

And you vowed that one
day you'd eat in there?

Yeah.

And I did.

Had to earn a bit of
money though, first.

- It so happens I have a
particular ambition now.

- Oh?

- To have you home every
Saturday night, like this.

And no Sergeant Lucy
Lane to divert you.

- Little jealous of the
nice Sergeant, are you?

- Of course I am.

She's young and she's
attractive,

and she sees a great deal
more of you than I do.

You were off
form tonight, Matt.

- Yes.

I've got things on my mind.

Any news from her yet?

- Early days, old man.

My contact tells me he's in
touch with an interested party.

- Well, any figure mentioned?

- 50,000.

- Pounds?

US dollars, Matt.

Just as a basis for bargaining.

- Well, that's a mere fragment
of their proper value.

- Value depends on the
market you sell in.

If you don't trust me--

- Sorry, I'm not ungrateful,
Ronnie,

I'm just trying to
work things out.

- I'll be up in London next
week, I'll have a root around.

- Well, hang on, can't
afford to start any rumors.

- Nor can I.

I'll just try and stir
up a little competition.

- Well, you take care.

Of course.

- You've been very good
over this, Ronnie.

I won't forget it.

- I stand to benefit
too, don't I?

Matt, could I have
another look now?

If you've the time.

- Why not?

Off on his
nightly prowl.

- Yeah, he drops in
to see me sometimes.

And all of this was
just squared away

.

There.

Gee, I'd thought that a
buyer would only be too--

- Dad,

I'm sorry.

I was waitin' to,

can I talk to you?

- Well, won't it wait
to the morning?

- No.

- No problem, Matt.

- Well?

- I wanna get out.

- Of what?

- Out of running the shop.

I want to be a potter.

Uncle Maurice says
I've got it in me.

I want to work with him
and David at Trebyan.

- How dare you come to me--

- I have a right to
lead my own life.

- I spent precious time
in training you--

- In training me,
in training me,

without ever asking me
whether that's what I wanted.

- Who's gonna take
over my rare books?

- I don't give a damn
about your rare books.

I'd like to burn them all.

- Get out of here.

You join that pair over
at the property,

I shall finish with
you for good.

No wonder mother
left you, rotten dictator.

- Fuddin' hell.

Bastard.

- I'm back from my
constitutional, dear.

Ready for your cocoa?

- It's pissing down outside,
the back gate was bolted.

- Why didn't you shout?

- I shouted alright.

- It's funny, father's
still in his study.

- Oh, just sittin' in there,

laughin' at me gettin' drenched.

- Gerry,

I told him.

- What?

That I'm leaving.

- Oh God, a row?

- Thunderous.

- No wonder he locked the back
gates, spiteful old bastard.

- Hello?

Wycliffe home.

headquarters
at Livermore, madam.

Chief Superintendent
Wycliffe, please.

- I'm sorry, sir.

Could you just pull
over on the left?

Thanks very much.

- Alright.

Good morning, Mr. Trice.

- In his office,
sir, at the back.

- How are they taking the death?

- Shocked, but I hadn't
understand his red eyes.

- They've been asked
not to leave the house.

- Have you got that this?

Well, there you are then.

He's been dead up to 18
hours, not less than 14.

That puts it, what, between
nine and one last night.

Strangled, having been
stunned first.

- Weapon?

- Possibly a piece of metal
piping with a ragged edge.

Could've struck edge-on,
causing more bleeding

than our friend probably
bargained for.

Ah, the ligature?

- Plated-flex, probably
with a large knot

to increase the pressure.

- Our friend knew his business.

- Ah, could've been a woman,

pencil tied in the
knot of the chord,

no great strength required.

- We must be careful what
we say to them, Christine.

Take a look
at these, sir.

- A cat.

- Hardly our murderer.

- No, definitely not.

No, looks like the creature
sniffed around the dead man,

stepped in the blood,
then went for the door.

- Was the door open or shut
when the body was found?

- Shut, according to Sara Glynn.

- His sister, sir.

She found the body
early this morning.

- The door wasn't locked.

Sir, look.

Cat hairs.

- And further traces of blood.

All have been noted.

Cat must've sat there for
some time, waiting to get out.

- Family cat?

- No sir, they don't
have one, I inquired.

- Any cats here when your
people arrived, Sergeant Fox?

No sir.

- Any signs of a break in?

- None, all exterior
doors have mortise locks,

the windows are wired
to an alarm system.

If the killer didn't
come through the house

then Glynn must've left
both this door to the yard

and the gate into the
back lane unsecured.

- Or he admitted the
killer himself.

- Might've been someone he knew,

familiar with the office,
could move around freely,

get behind his man
to strike him.

- The history, aye?

Sergeant Lane, I want
you with me today.

Got your clubs?

- Paula James, the
secretary, works here, sir.

- Tell me about the Glynns.

- Typical business family
of the old school, no show.

Keep the family skeletons
locked up.

Discreet, that's the word.

- Was Matthew well known?

- Yes, local businessman,
district councilor.

- Is there a widow?

- The lady walked
out 17 years ago.

She hasn't been seen since.

- Was there a missing
person's inquiry, Inspector?

- Before my time, sir.

But I did hear that
they picked up her car,

abandoned near Exeter.

- Apart from the hypothetical
widow, um,

what about the rest
of the family?

- Two children, Gerald,
bachelor, early thirties,

and Christine, about 22,
both work in the business.

- And Sara, the sister.

- A worthy virgin, she took
over the running of the home

when the wife walked out.

Two brothers, Alfred
and Maurice.

- One, big, happy family.

- There was a Granny Glynn
until a few months ago.

She died, nearly 90.

- I'm just going to heat
some soup for our lunch.

- Alfred.

Alfred, it's me.

Come and sit down, Alfred.

Put that pan down,
for goodness sake.

The police been to see you?

- Police?

Ah, but no.

- You know about Matthew?

- Well, he's dead.

- How did you hear?

You know he was murdered?

- Yes.

- Alfred, the police will come
and ask a lot of questions,

and not only about what
happened last night.

You understand?

- I must, I must tell them--

- Sit down.

You're a sick man, Alfred.

You should have someone
to look after you.

- No, no, no, no, I don't want
anyone in my house, anyone.

- What's goin' on, officer?

I'll be with
you in a minute, sir.

- Hello Dippy, what
are you doin' here?

Well, what do you want?

- I was out here last
night, quite late.

- Dippy Martin, sir.

He used to be a regular
and our local nick,

specialized in lady's handbags,

but he's a reformed character
now, aren't you Dippy?

You saw something
last night?

- Young Glynn, Gerald,
when I turned in the lane,

I saw him by his back
gate, swearin' .

Had a few, if you ask me.

- What time was this?

- Oh, after 11, about
10 or quarter past.

And I wandered up to the corner

and hung about there for a bit.

When I looked back, I saw
a woman near the gate.

- Did she go into
the Glynn's yard?

- Oh, I don't know,
I didn't watch her.

Are you sure
it was a woman?

- Well, it wasn't a pansy
in drag, that's for sure.

- What time was this?

Oh, just about half 11.

Could it have been
one of the Glynn women?

- Couldn't say one way or
t'other, she was a fair bit
away.

- You didn't ask him
what he was doin'

hanging around in the rain.

- Lookin' for his daughter.

He's a bit feeble-minded,
goes off after men.

Remember
the little hut?

- Of course I remember it.

- Is it still there?

Does it matter?

- It mattered to Maurice
and Matthew.

It was all so long
ago, when we were young.

- Matthew, Matthew, he
wanted to build houses there.

He was gone out the hot pool.

The little hut was
where my wife--

- Don't be so absurd.

You know you never had a wife.

This brooding on the past
is turning your mind.

The past is over, finished.

You never had a wife, Alfred.

You were lucky, the
woman you wanted

to marry was a bitch
and a whore.

You've made yourself ill with
these self-indulgent fancies,

and now this has happened.

If you don't pull
yourself together,

we shall have it all over again.

Alfred, listen to me Alfred.

Listen to me.

- Gotcha.

- Miss Glynn.

Chief Superintendent Wycliffe.

I gather it was you found your
brother's body this morning.

- Yes, I did.

- I wonder, did you have
any particular reason

for going into your brother's
office so early this morning?

- Yes, of course I did.

I woke feeling unwell
and went to the kitchen

to make a cup of tea,

and I could see the
light on in the office.

- Oh.

- I had thought Matthew
might have forgotten

to switch it off, or maybe
there was an intruder,

so I went to find out.

- But you can't see into
the office from the kitchen.

- From the conservatory you can.

I could see that the
curtains were drawn.

Would you like a cup of
coffee, Superintendent?

- That's very kind of you
Miss Glynn, thank you.

I'm afraid we shall have to look

into your brother's affairs,

and some of his relationships
both inside

and outside the family,

and some questions may
seem impertinent.

- Yes, the family
will understand.

- Coffee, Sergeant?

- Thanks, sir, just the job.

- You're quite sure
you didn't go out

at all yesterday evening?

- Quite sure.

- And you say you never
saw your brother again

after the evening meal?

- Absolutely.

- Oh, thank you.

So nostalgic, isn't it,
this amount of fresh coffee?

I remember there was
this cafe we used

to go to in Liverpool
when I was a kid,

you know, in a big
department store.

I'm sorry, you were talking,
weren't you?

- Alfred, being the
eldest brother,

well, one might've expected
him to take over the firm.

- He wanted to be a doctor,
but he was unsuccessful,

so he trained as a
pharmacist instead

and father set him
up in business.

Very generous.

- My father liked power.

- And Maurice?

- He went to art school.

Then, after a few false starts,

he set up the pottery
at Trebyan.

It's the old family house.

Also financed
by your father?

- The question will have
to be answered sooner

or later, Miss Glynn.

- My father gave Maurice
a capital sum

and leased him the
property at a nominal rent.

So, when
your father died,

the property must've
passed on to someone else.

- Yes, to Matthew.

Want a biscuit?

- I swear, I'm frightened
of this.

Why did he have to
loose his temper

like that with Uncle Matt?

- David, no one who knows your
father could ever believe--

- But Chris,

there's something
you've gotta know.

- 17 years ago, Matthew's
wife walked out of her home

and never came back.

How old were the children
at that time?

- Christine was about
five and Gerald was 14.

- It's remarkable.

- What?

- A woman leaving their
children like that.

- Inez was a remarkable woman.

- Was there some sort of crisis

in the marriage before she left?

Ah,
no, Inez said she was going

to see a woman friend
that Sunday

and she chose not to return.

- I'm afraid you can't
go inside, Mr. Glynn.

- No, of course not,
I understand.

- So, I noticed you decided
to go out, Miss Glynn,

without my permission.

- I'm sorry, I wanted to speak

to my cousin, David at Trebyan.

- Why?

I knew
he'd be upset.

- I want to buy this.

- It'll be, um, five
pounds please.

- Where were you last night?

- With David.

- A woman was seen in
the lane last night,

near to your gate, about 11:30.

The gate was bolted by then.

Gerald couldn't get in.

And it wasn't me.

- What time did you get home?

About half 9.

- Did you see your
father afterwards?

- Yes.

Where?

- In his office.

- Alive and well, was he?

- Of course.

- Do you remember your
mother, Miss Glynn?

- Mother?

- Hmm.

- Just about.

- And you've not heard
or seen anything

of her since she left?

- No.

- Was your mother affectionate,
loving?

- Oh, yeah, I remember lots of
cuddles and bedtime stories.

And she used to laugh a lot.

- And afterwards, your Aunt
Sara, she took her place?

- To some degree.

- Thank you.

Oh, there's one last
thing, Miss Glynn.

Your grandmother, she died,
what, four months ago, was it?

- Mm hmm.

- Do you think she was aware
of any squabbling going on

between the three brothers?

- Oh, yeah, but she made
out like she wasn't.

- I understand Mr.
Glynn often had visitors

in his office after hours.

- Appointments were
sometimes made.

- But you weren't present
at the meetings?

- Why should I be?

They were nothin' to
do with the shop.

- Never asked you
to work overtime?

- He was far too stingy.

Here, what are you gettin' at?

- I was merely wondering if
you knew any of these visitors.

- Not personally.

They were mostly old fogies,
and councilors and that.

Oh, except for the Mr. Swayne,

now he was a personal friend.

- Of yours?

- Do you mind, sir?

Mr. Glynn's, of course.

Mr. Swayne was always
poppin' in and out.

I reckon they had somethin'
goin' on between them.

- What sort of thing?

- How should I know?

They never said anything
in front of me.

No, it was more a way Mr.
Swayne had of lookin'.

Like a furtive phantom.

Yes.

- Thanks.

A witness claims to
have seen Sara Glynn

in the town late last
night, about 11:15.

She could've been the woman

that Dippy Martin saw
in the back lane.

- A motive, Lucy, that's
what's important,

not the opportunity.

Tell me, did you sense
an inattention.

In the family?

- Mm.

Something dark in the
background, hidden.

- I certainly get the feeling

they're all watching each
other really closely.

- When I was banging on the
yard door, trying to get in,

whoever killed father
must've been with him then.

- Oh,

God.

- You were around with your
father last night, Christine.

One of us was
always around with him.

You can't
think that I had it--

- Of course not.

- We must be careful what
we say to the police.

It would be all to easy to
raise a series of questions

in their minds that have nothing

to do with your father's death.

- Matt and I were friends
from school.

The Glynn family lived
up at Trebyan then,

and moved to the house here
in town when Matthew married.

- Did he antagonize people?

- Matthew?

I'd say he didn't tolerate
fools gladly.

- And the feud with Alfred,

that goes back a long
way, I understand.

- He may have resented
Matthew's success, but--

- But?

- Alfred fell in love,
gorgeous girl,

like a film star.

I think he could hardly
believe his luck.

They got engaged, were
going to live over the shop,

all set to get married,
when wallah.

- Yes?

- Well, there was a wedding.

Matthew was the groom.

- And not Alfred?

And the bride was Inez?

- Yes, and already several
months pregnant

by Matthew when she married.

Bit of a less.

Wish I'd been there.

- Was Matthew his usual self
when you saw him last night?

- Yes, but he'd been
a bit worried lately.

His business needs
working capital.

He was old-fashioned,
dreaded getting

into the hands of the bank.

- Festering hatred,

nurtured and cultivated
for half a lifetime.

It's interesting.

- Yeah, but would it be powerful
enough to provoke a murder?

Ah, Miss Glynn.

Would you show me your
brother's room, please?

Ah, yes, it's this way.

He moved in here
when mother died.

- Miss Glynn, you were seen

by a witness late last night
outside the post office.

Oh, and we have a
report of a woman

in the lane at half past
11 near your back gate.

- I wrote some letters
and went out to post them.

Stupid of me not to mention it.

- What time was this?

- Quarter past 10.

And then, since it was
a pleasant evening,

I went for a walk.

- Pleasant evening?

Surely it was raining.

- Only showers, I don't
mind the rain.

One gets used to it here.

You went out and
came back by the yard door?

- Yes.

Did you see anything
suspicious or unusual?

- Nothing.

Did you enter the
house through the kitchen

or through your brother's
office?

- Why should I enter
through the office?

I saw the light on, I
presumed he was still working.

- Made out to Euro Travel.

- Yes, Matthew planned
to go away next month.

It was a regular thing,
Europe in early summer.

- Was he in the habit
of going alone?

- Yes, in package tours.

He didn't make friends easily,

but he seemed to enjoy himself.

This is curious.

He was usually very
careful with his money.

He seems to have spent a lot
on that particular holiday.

- No emotional involvement
outside the family?

- I doubt it.

- He seems to have kept nothing
to remind him of his wife.

- Is that surprising?

When she disappeared, he
packed up everything connected

with her and stored
it in the attic.

He did it all himself.

No one else was allowed to
go through her belongings.

- What made you go into
your brother's office

this morning when you
came down for your tea?

- I told you, I saw
the lights on.

- It was daylight at the time

and the office curtains
were drawn.

- Well, I'm sure I saw a light.

The curtains were
slightly parted.

Were they?

Think very carefully about what
you've told me, Miss Glynn.

- About Alfred, I mean,
not even a nut would murder

after 30 years of
procrastination, aye?

Do you think his
mother's death had something

to do with it?

That's a good
point, bare it in mind.

Mr. Glynn?

Inez.

- Journal of Martin J.
Beal, 1852 to 1857.

- And 1868 to 1884.

- Who on earth is
Martin J. Beal?

- I've never seen these before.

They're written in South Africa.

Whoever he was, he
knew Cecil Rhodes.

- Are the books valuable?

- They'd have historical value,

but I'd need a second opinion.

- Why should father keep
them hidden away?

- It would be useful
if we could establish

how long they'd been
in the safe.

Paula, perhaps you can help us?

- Been there all the
time I've worked here,

which is over two years.

- It's axiomatic, nothing of
value is ever kept in the safe.

Not in this
case, perhaps.

Hmm.

Victorian.

- Have you ever seen that
box before, Miss Glynn?

- No, I don't think so.

No.

- It's a bit unusual, putting
an empty box in a safe.

Anyone know what was in it?

- No.

- No, Mr. Glynn was
very secretive.

So, you never
unlocked the safe?

- Never.

I was never trusted
with the key.

- It could've been Swayne's cat.

It went out about half past
nine, came back at midnight,

not usually out that long.

- So, someone let it
out of Glynn's office,

shortly before midnight.

- Mm, and according
to Dippy Martin,

that someone was a woman.

- And the books hidden
in the safe?

Under-the-counter deal,
do you think?

- There was something
else, a box.

Empty,

also Victorian.

- Am I interrupting somethin'?

No trace of Alfred yet.

Not been seen or heard
of at all so far today.

I spoke again to
Gerald, the son.

The business is in a
fair bit of trouble.

- Excuse me.

Can you tell me the
way to Trebyan, please?

- Oh, keep over half a mile or
so and it'll be on your left.

You can't miss it.

- Thanks.

Police, are you?

- Yes.

Poor Matthew.

- You knew him?

- I knew the whole family.

We all went to the same
village school.

I saw Alfred earlier.

He didn't see me.

Didn't want to, I expect.

- Alfred?

- Mm, must've come up from
Penzance on the early bus.

He looked ill, poor old thing.

- Thank you Misses, ah.

- Tremaine, Flori Tremaine.

- You're quite sure your
Uncle Alfred hasn't been

up to the farm at
all this morning?

- Why should I lie to you?

I've seen nothing
of him for days.

- Get on to the incident room.

Get me a small team
here and a dog-handler.

Christine, you know we
were talking about earlier,

that last conversation
you had with your father?

- I suppose Sara's told
you I had a row with him.

- Not yet, she hasn't.

- Well, I did.

I told him I was gonna
leave the business.

I hate that damn shop and
everything to do with it.

Including
your father?

- But I wouldn't kill
him, for God's sake.

- Ah, sorry I wasn't
here when you arrived.

I was with my--

Sara.

- Sara, yes, ah, you
wanna come in?

Okay.

Do you know anything of your
brother Alfred's whereabouts?

No, family's
anxious about him.

A witness
saw him earlier,

apparently, he was
on his way up here.

- Well, I've been at
the farm all morning.

- Oh, thank you.

Have you spoken to him recently?

Well, not
for about three weeks,

and that was down in the town.

He hasn't been up
here for years.

- And Matthew, ah,
where'd you see him last?

- A few days ago.

Had a bit of a bust-up,
you probably heard

over a plot of land.

- Oh yeah, there was some
mention of a little hut.

Do you think we could
take a look?

Door's locked.

David's got the only key
if you want to go inside.

- Well, he's probably
been dead between, what,

five and six hours.

- Well, you'd think the fool
would've had more sense.

I mean, lacing his own
brandy with strychnine.

- Does it look that
way to you, doctor?

- Yeah.

- Yes, but why strychnine?

He surely could've found
an easier way to do it.

I mean, all those drugs
in his pharmacy.

Poor old Alfie.

Couldn't take his
brother's death, I guess,

on top of everything else.

- How do you mean?

- Oh, carried himself
he was a doctor,

handed out his own
prescriptions.

In our lot, that's medical
practitioners,

we've been on his
tail for years.

- Really?

- Just recently, he was stopped

from dispensing any chance
prescriptions,

couldn't be trusted.

- Excuse me.

No wonder your Uncle Matthew
wanted to build houses here.

It's a beautiful view.

- Mm, here and in the
adjoining field.

- Did he have planning
permission, do you know?

- Uncle Matthew certainly
had friends in high places.

More so than my father, anyway.

Ah, he's opposed
to any kind of development.

- Yeah, father fought
very strongly

about this piece
of waste ground.

So do I.

- Does he come down here
much these days?

- Never, as far as I know.

It's some way from the
farm, let's face it.

All the same, for him, it was
one of those special places.

- Well, if someone killed
Alfred, they must've had a
reason.

Well, what, for God's sake.

I knew it.

Why would Alfred kill
himself, and so horribly?

What happens now?

We'll treat
it as a suspicious death.

There'll be a postmortem,
investigations,

source of poison, et cetera.

- That's my wife.

She died when David was six.

- Tell me about Matthew.

Hmm?

- There were difference
between you.

Surely you've
heard that story by now.

What's your version?

- Well, his plans for
development here.

He had no right.

Under my father's will,
Matthew got the bookshop

on condition he provided
for Sara.

Alfred got the pharmacy.

This place should've been mine,

but my father had no
faith in my ability

to make a go of anything,

so he left it to Matthew.

I was to lease it back
at a nominal rent.

Making sure
that I was in no position

to sell it and blow
all the proceeds.

For all intents and purposes,
Matthew became my keeper.

- So what happens
to Trebyan now?

- On Matthew's death, my
father willed it to me.

- What about Sara,
on Matthew's death?

- Oh, well, I looked
after her, alright.

I will look after her.

- Now Inez was your
sister-in-law, yes?

- Yes.

- Were you surprised
when she disappeared?

- Surprised?

Of course, we all were.

Do you remember
how Matthew reacted?

- Was totally stunned.

He telephoned that night
to see if she was here.

Well, Inez was friendly
with my wife, Celia.

Had neither of
you seen her on that occasion?

- No.

- And what about Alfred,
how did he take it?

- Well, we were never
very close.

Couldn't see a lot of him.

- Are you familiar with
his rooms, above the shop?

- No, I've only been
in the living room.

- Ah, well,

the bedroom he intended for Inez

and himself was fully
furnished, bed made,

fresh flowers, pictures of Inez,

but it was never used.

It was perfect until
very recently.

- What do you mean?

- I found it vandalized
this morning,

everything in it damaged
or destroyed.

- I don't want to talk
about Inez anymore.

Better have a word with Sara.

She lived in the same
house with her for years.

- I must speak to you,
Superintendent.

On Saturday night I did
go out to post my letters

and I did go for a walk.

As I turned into the back lane,

I saw Alfred.

- Take your time, Miss Glynn.

- I saw Alfred leaving our gate.

He was like a man sleepwalking.

I watched him as he went
in his own back door

and then I hurried on home.

I mean, I didn't know
what had happened.

He never visited here
after mother's death,

and, even then, he only came
to tea here once a week.

The light was still on
in Matthew's office.

- Did you bolt the
door behind you?

- Yes.

Why?

- I don't know, I was
frightened, it seemed the thing
to do.

- Go on.

- I went to the office
and opened the door.

Did you go in?

- No, I didn't need to, I
could see him lying there.

- Any sign of Swayne's cat?

- Um, yes, it slipped past
me as I opened the door.

I shut the door and
I crossed the yard

and I went into the house
through the kitchen,

and I went straight to my room.

I couldn't face any more.

I had to think what
I should say.

The little
hut at Trebyan meant a lot

to your brothers, didn't it?

- Well, ah, yes, when
they were young.

- Did you go there
much yourself?

- No, it was very much
the boy's place.

- When your brother Maurice's
wife was ill

and David was little,

you helped look after
him, I understand.

- I did what I could.

- Did Alfred ever make
any kind contact with Inez

after she married Matthew?

- Alfred would never admit
that Inez had ever existed.

Certainly
very tidy, very neat.

There's too many facts
don't tie up.

There's the disappearance
of Inez.

- 17 years ago.

- Maurice's quarrel
with his brother.

The documents hidden
in the safe.

No, I'm not convinced
of Alfred's guilt.

Matthew had a Volvo 244,

five years old, but only
12,000 on the clock.

Who was it
said he was stingy?

- He hardly ever used
it, except on Sundays,

when he visited an old man
who used to work for the firm.

- So, people have a chance took.

- He only stayed with the
old man for 20 minutes or so.

- So, find out where he
spent the rest of his Sunday.

- I have done, sir.

He was with Flori Tremaine.

- What, a who?

Lucky.

- Sergeant, check on
Euro Travel, hey?

So, Colonel,
this woman, Inez,

was your mother's companion
all those years ago?

- Oh, yes, she was with her
until the day mother died,

and then she married
Glynn, the bookseller.

I was a military attache
in those days.

One of our embassies
in Eastern Europe.

Couldn't attend to mother's
affairs as I would've wished.

Later I discovered some of the
family papers were missing.

- What was the nature
of these papers?

- They were my great
grandfather's journal.

He was, for many years, in
Natal in the Cape Colony,

up until 1880.

Because of his close
association with Cecil Rhodes,

some of the records may be
of some historical value.

- Was his name Martin J. Beal?

Indeed it was.

- Then you'll undoubtedly
be pleased to learn

that his journal is
in the Glynn's safe

under seal at the moment.

- I can't believe it.

After all these years.

- Was there anything
else went missing?

- Yes, a collection
of letters written

by Beal to his mother.

We are a reputable
travel agent,

you know we have to observe
client confidentiality.

- Yes, but this particular
client has been murdered.

Another person
may be involved.

- Who could turn out to
be a valuable witness.

Do you want me to obtain
a court order?

- No, that won't be necessary.

Mr. Glynn was to have
traveled to Greece

with a Mrs. Florence
Tremaine of New Mill Cottage.

- Although he's a
bit older than me,

it was always understood
that Matthew

and I would eventually marry.

At least, that's what I thought.

Then Inez arrives on the scene.

Well, I was left high and dry.

- Were you surprised when
Matthew married Inez?

- Totally shocked.

You know about the little hut?

The boys used to meet
their girlfriends there.

They had the pick of
us, especially Matthew.

I was flattered.

- How did you feel,
meeting him again?

- Oh, it was strange at
first, both of us middle-aged.

He offered marriage at last,

but, really, he didn't want
any more than friendship.

- You had some good times
together on holiday though?

- Oh, we were very happy,

or so it seemed to me.

I was surprised when he wanted
to build houses at Trebyan.

Maurice was awfully upset.

- Upset enough to kill?

- Kill?

Superintendent, I'm
chatting about the family,

talking too much, and
suddenly you bring up murder.

- That's why my Sergeant
any myself are here.

- Well, I'm sorry,
I just find it hard

to realize that Matthew's
dead, that's all.

- About Sara, did she
ever visit the hut at all?

- My dear, she used to spy
on her brothers all the time.

A premeditated
murder, Lucy.

But the Glynns are a
respectable family,

hardly likely to resort
to violence

except under dire circumstances.

That's back to two, sir.

- Father came in, he
didn't notice me.

Mister Swayne was with him.

I watched father take some,
something from the safe.

- The empty box?

- Perhaps, I couldn't
see properly.

But I do remember father giving
some papers to Mr. Swayne.

They could've been from the box.

- Did Mr. Swayne take them
with him when he left?

- Yes.

As they were coming
into the room,

father mentioned something
about a buyer.

- Having a buyer, looking
for a buyer?

They spoke
quietly, I couldn't hear.

- What was Swayne's response?

- Something about no problem,
he left pretty swiftly.

I think my father was
annoyed at finding me there.

Did I do right to come to you?

Your detective seemed to
think that the box mattered.

- What you told me may
very well be important.

Do you believe your Uncle
Alfred killed your father?

- Of course, Auntie
Sara saw him that night.

She said so, didn't she?

- The letters were in
a sort of shoe box,

in envelopes.

Fascinating
things, aren't they, stamps?

Great travelers.

Are they valuable?

- Sometimes.

- About the books in the
safe, the old journals,

did Matthew ask you to
find a buyer for them?

- Why should he?

Books were his world,
Superintendent, stamps are mine.

- But what about the letters?

- Letters?

- There was a box
of letters too.

Like the journals, they
belonged to Mrs. Armitage,

the woman Inez worked for.

They're no longer in the safe.

- So?

- So, letters need envelopes,
envelopes need stamps,

and some stamps, as you
say, are valuable.

- Are you suggesting?

- I'm not investigating
a theft, Mr. Swayne,

not at this particular time.

Tryin' to find a murderer.

If you want to make a
voluntary statement,

.

- Glynn bundled all these
waste things here himself.

Terrible mess, photographs,
handbags.

He had some very good stuff.

See what I mean?

- Mm.

- Look at this.

- Depressing.

- One thing's certain, didn't
keep his short of the readies.

- It's curious, you know,

well, he seems generally
to have been a careful man,

but these things have just been

all flung up here
higgledy-piggledy.

- Under extreme emotional stress
at the time, do you think?

- Locked.

- Not an insuperable
problem to a man

of your considerable
gifts, Sergeant.

- Block capitals,
addressed to Matthew Glynn.

Poisoned pen?

- February the 1st
and 22nd, 1976.

March 21st, 1976.

March 21st, the day after
Inez left home.

- You know what's going
on with your wife.

What sort of man are you?

Most Sunday afternoons her
car is parked in Badgers Wood.

Her car was there on Sunday.

Have we heard of Badgers Wood?

- No, gov.

- Can't you leave us
alone now, Superintendent?

You know who killed
Matthew and why.

What more do you want,
for God's sake?

Are you familiar
with Badgers Wood?

- Badgers Wood,

a name we gave the place as
children, near to Trebyan.

- You knew Maurice's wife?

- Of course, poor Celia.

- Why poor?

Was the marriage unhappy?

- Oh, I don't think so,

but she never got over
David's birth.

Depression.

- Postnatal?

- Well, I suppose so.

And then an overdose, dreadful.

Very hard for Maurice to bear.

- Did he have any
help in the house,

when his wife was in hospital?

- Yes, Molly Pierce,
at Raskia Farm,

above Trebyan.

, I think
she rather fancied Maurice

at one time.

She never married,
poor old thing.

- Raskia Farm, sir?

- Ah, no, Trebyan, and
I'll walk from here.

Would you pick me up later?

- So, you found another key.

- Came to look around.

Old time's sake.

- Your sister's made
a fresh statement.

- Yes, she phoned me.

- Do you believe what
she now says?

That she saw Alfred
leaving by the back gate,

last Saturday night
about half past 11?

- Why should she lie?

- Because she's already
made two previous statements

to the contrary, that's why.

- That was before
Alfred's suicide.

Hardly expect her to
deliberately incriminate him.

- Perhaps she only felt
it safe to accuse Alfred

when he was no longer in a
position to defend himself.

- Why say she saw
him if she didn't?

- To protect someone else.

Herself, maybe.

- Sara?

Kill Matthew?

- What do you think?

- I believe in Sara,

implicitly.

Is Badgers
Wood on this map?

- How do you know Badgers Wood?

- I've been talking to
Florence Tremaine.

- Oh.

- She told me you used to
play there as children.

Flori,
yeah, Badgers Wood.

It's a name we invented
when we were kids,

played all sorts of
games up there,

Robin Hood, cops and robbers.

It's there, little
cluster of pine.

Ah, oh, I see.

Near Raskia Farm.

Tell me, did Molly Pierce play
in any of these games at all?

- I expect so, most of
us kids around here did.

- Because Molly looked after
you and David, didn't she,

when your wife was
ill in hospital?

- Yes.

She was good to us.

- Your wife died of an
overdose, I believe.

At home, was it?

, suicide,

while the balance of
her mind was disturbed.

And what
drug did she OD on?

- Phenobarbital.

- For depression?

- No, prescribed for me.

I was under stress,

at a difficult time.

- Why have you moved
the settee, Mr. Glynn?

- Dropped a knife down the back.

- I was given to believe
that we held the only keys.

I'd prefer it if you
didn't come in here again,

not until our investigations
are complete.

We've discovered some
poisoned pen notes,

written to Matthew, just
before his wife,

Inez disappeared in 1976.

They informed him that
his wife's car was parked

in Badgers Wood on Sundays.

Now, I understand that
Maurice's wife, Celia,

was, at that time,
in hospital, yes?

- I expect that's right.

So, you
would've been helping out

at Trebyan then.

- Yes.

- And, using the footpath
through the woods.

So, it's possible you
might've seen something.

- All I can say is that
I never saw Inez

in Maurice's house when
his wife wasn't there.

Of course, he may remember
these things better,

or even differently.

- Very possibly, yes.

- The letters and envelopes,
150 of them,

from Beal to his mother.

The stamps on 'em are
of interest, valuable,

but they'd hardly make
anyone's fortune.

- And that?

- Beal started to
collect stamps,

which he sent home to
any of his nephews

who might be interested.

Most are in mint condition,
some Cape triangles,

many with rare over-printings
and surcharges,

and some with design
and printing faults.

His mother kept them in
the envelopes he sent home.

- And you were supposed
to sell them

on Matthew Glynn's behalf
through the auction houses?

- Not exactly.

- No?

Because what you wanted was
an under-the-counter deal

because of their questionable
provenance, wasn't it?

Now, tell me, who else knew

the stamps were in
your possession,

apart from Matthew Glynn?

- No one.

- Matthew Glynn is dead, and
on the night of the murder,

his daughter, Christine, saw you

with the envelopes
in your hands.

- I would have approached
the family.

At a less
delicate time, yes.

This year, next year,

sometime never.

Put it in your statement.

- But you must know
by now that I--

- No, I don't think you're
a murderer, Mr. Swayne,

that would fancy you
contemplated becoming a rogue.

- It's a fine spring in here.

- Hmm, this friend of
Inez girl, Angela Bickers,

plump lady, contented
wife, friend of Inez,

attraction of opposites,
how she described it,

also said that Inez was
fed up to the back teeth

with Matthew and Sara,

but that she'd no intention
of ever leaving her children.

- She didn't say that
to the police

when Inez first went missing.

- Her husband insisted she
keep her nose out of it,

didn't like to see her
associating with the likes of
Inez,

a woman who slept around.

- This Angela knew that she did?

- Oh, aye.

Inez was supposed
to be visiting her

those times she was actually
havin' it off with Maurice.

- Ah.

- If his wife was expected out
of hospital for the weekend

then Maurice would
contact Angela

and pass on a message like,

shan't be here on Sunday,
see you here next weekend.

- Did she ever leave messages

to other members of the family?

- Yeah, sometimes even
with Matthew himself.

- Oh, really?

The wedding
would be innocuous enough.

- Hmm.

So,

anything further on how Maurice
spent last Saturday night?

- Not a dicky-bird.

- Hello, Wycliffe.

There's a fire
on the cliffs, sir,

with a hot near Trebyan Farm.
- What?

On fire?

Yes, sir.

- I'm on my way.

- Must surely be Maurice
who started it.

- Would he be such a fool?

- A lot of black tinder,
sir, not much we could do.

Deliberate, was it?

- It looks like at the present.

We'll know better when we
can sift through the debris.

- Gives me an excuse to
do what I intended anyway.

Um,

I want the cavity under
the floor cleared

as soon as it's practicable.

- The constable who
spotted the fire,

said that Maurice and
David didn't arrive

until sometime after it started.

- What was Maurice's reaction?

- Puzzled, more than anything.

Didn't seem to know
what to make of it.

- Where is he now?

- Up at the house.

Who said I did?

Well, what else?

Well, nothin'.

You sure?

I told him
nothing, Maurice.

- Then he'll be wanting
to see you again.

If he puts direct
questions to me, I can't lie.

I came down to see if
I could help Maurice.

- Ah, about the fire,

I really don't know what
to say, Mr. Wycliffe.

- We'll discuss the
details later,

once we've completed
the investigations.

Coffee?

- Oh, yes please, thank you.

We've learned all about your
affair with Inez, Mr. Glynn.

Met when you could, on
Sundays, in the little hut.

One of her woman friends,
Angela Bickers,

acting as go-between.

What you may not know is
that Matthew was informed

about your meetings by
anonymous letter.

- Milk for you, Mr. Wycliffe?

- Oh, no thank you.

Thank you, that's fine.

That Sunday when Inez
finally left home,

was your wife Celia with you?

- Yes.

Had you sent
word to Inez not to come?

- I,

yes.

- And yet, Matthew received
a note saying

that her car was in
Badgers Wood on that day.

Mrs. Pierce,

did you see her mini parked
among the pine trees?

- Yes, I did.

- Well, Mr. Glynn.

- If Inez came to
Trebyan that day,

I certainly didn't see her.

- No sign of how it started.

- Sergeant Fox,

better start probing near
the back hut, would you?

- Right, gov.

- Right.

You can start digging.

- Seems you found what
you were looking for, sir.

- Guilt as motive all neatly
wrapped up in polyethylene.

- Get Franks here and
the duty undertaker.

- Surely enough
circumstantial evidence here

to charge Maurice with the
murder of his brother's wife.

- Well, bring him in
for questioning, anyway.

- Unless Sara changes
her testimony,

we won't be in a position
to charge anyone.

- Yes, well, I've tidied
her up as much as I can.

Pretty certain now this
was Inez Glynn.

I remember the gold broach.

- Any conclusions?

- Off the record?

- Mm hmm.

- Hit on the head before
being throttled.

Your killer's got
a one-track mind.

- No, I didn't know her
car was in the wood,

not 'til Molly told me.

- And when was that?

- It was just before I took
Celia back to hospital.

- What did you do?

- Well, nothing immediately.

It was odd.

I was worried.

Well, then when I got
back from the hospital,

I went up the pine wood and
the car was still there.

Yes, and what
did you do then?

- I went to the hut.

I thought, perhaps, she
might've left a message for me.

We did that sometimes.

I opened the door.

- Go on.

- I saw her on the settee,

sprawled out, skirt
up around her waist.

She looked as if
she'd been raped.

Then I saw her face,

blue, there was a wire
around her neck.

She was dead.

Oh God.

- Would you like
a glass of water?

- I didn't kill her,
why should I?

She was keeping me sane.

My wife, David.

- Go on.

- I don't remember everything.

I went to telephone the police.

I actually dialed,

then I realized the
situation I was in.

Man having an affair
with his brother's wife,

woman dead on the settee
where ,

who would believe me?

I think I was slightly mad.

I started to think
I had done it.

It was a nightmare.

Been living with it 17 years.

- What did you do?

- I wrapped her in polyethylene,
like you found her,

put her under the floorboards
until I,

well, then there was the car.

I drove it to Exeter,

wore gloves.

- But the body was buried
in earth when it was found.

- Well, during the next
few days, weeks, I,

I dug a trench and
I put her in it.

Carried the soil
down in a barrow,

covered her,

then nailed the floorboards
down.

Nothing happened.

Nothing.

No one ever asked me
a single question.

- So you left her there.

Sorry to have kept you
waiting, Miss Glynn.

- Something which must
be understood between us,

or it could create
unnecessary difficulties.

I did see Alfred on Saturday
evening leaving the yard.

I tried to speak to
him, he was distraught,

I doubt if he even saw me.

I suspect you don't believe me,

but this is the evidence
I shall give wherever

and whenever I'm required
to testify.

- So, you stand by
your statement.

- I do and I shall.

- Anything else?

- I think you should know
that Matthew was not a man

to turn the other cheek.

- I see.

- I hope you do.

- So you knew about
Inez and Maurice?

- I knew she had affairs.

- When did you last
speak with Maurice?

- I was with him earlier
when the police came for him.

I've said all I came to say.

- Remarkable woman, Sergeant.

I couldn't
decide who killed her,

Alfred or Matthew.

- After 17 years you
came to no conclusion?

- Didn't even want to,

tried to forget,

very nearly succeeded.

- What started it up again?

- Matthew and his houses.

When we had that row, I
realized it was all a trap.

- Just a minute,

a trap?

- He set a trap for me.

He knew what he could do to me.

Once mother was in the ground,

there was nobody, nothing
to stop him.

- Ah, yes, the mother, yes.

- Well she held him off.

He gloated over it
for years, gloated.

He didn't have to build
the houses, only threaten.

Cat with the mouse.

If I was scared about being
accused then, what about now?

- And, in all that
time, did neither

of you ever make any kind of
reference to his wife's death?

- Not a word.

I didn't dare.

He didn't need to.

He was contemptuous,
challenging,

and, my God, I understood.

- So finally you killed him.

- No.

No, I didn't kill him.

He deserved to die,
but I did not kill him.

- Well, it all points
to Alfred, aye?

I mean, he had ample reason
and opportunity to kill both.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yah, but
how much did Alfred know?

To kill himself there,
where Inez was found dead.

Did he know Maurice met her
there, made love to her there?

Did he perhaps see her killed

and then relate it
to his mother?

- Hang on, if he did it--

- And her mother, what
sort of a person was she?

Did she know about
the murder of Inez?

And she was steering them all,

dangling them like puppets,

playing one off against
the other.

Yeah, yeah, I think she did.

- You got a great
imagination, boss.

- No, Sara said as much.

- Well, it seems, if
any of it's true,

it's a pity the mother's dead.

She might've saved us
a deal of trouble.

- That's it, isn't it?

It was her death brought
the nasties out

of the woodwork, set the
wheels turning, cycle of death.

- What if the mother wasn't
the only one who knew it all?

What if Sara knew?

She'd spied, listened at doors,

and after Matthew died,
she went to work on Alfred,

destroyed his fantasy and left
him with nothing to live for.

- Why?

- To protect someone.

- I get it.

There's no proof.

- I'm gonna have a word
with the boy, David.

Put some pressure on him,

see if I can find out
where Maurice really was

the night of the murder.

- No, my father didn't set
fire to the hut, I did.

- And you thought you
were protecting him?

But you didn't know what from.

You bloody idiot.

- What'll happen to dad?

- Nothing, for the moment.

Now, if I remember correctly,

you told me your father was home

before you last Saturday night.

Now, was he?

Hmm, was he?

You think very carefully
before you answer me.

- No.

He wasn't.

He cycled into town
to see Aunt Sara,

and came back very late.

- Would you say Maurice
was his mother's darling?

- Women are often attracted
to weak men,

they arouse their
maternal instinct.

- Yeah.

Let's go see Sara, one last try.

- So, it seems you took
over your mother's role,

managing the boys.

- Someone had to.

- Playing one off
against the other?

- I'm not sure what
you mean by that.

- I think you do.

Matthew, of course, being your
principle stumbling block.

- Please make yourself clear.

- Threatening your
darling Maurice.

- Threatening?

- But you also knew
the body of Inez was

under the floorboards,
didn't you?

- Are you suggesting
that I connived--

Because
Maurice told you.

- No.

- You and Maurice always
were very close.

- Well--

- He told you when
he found the body.

- Well that's just
your conjecture.

- Alright, alright,

let's look at it this way.

When Matthew, subtly,
began to threaten Maurice,

you stepped in.

- Nonsense.

You wanted him safe.

- It must be perfectly
obvious to anyone

that Alfred killed Matthew.

I saw him that night.

- Nobody else did.

A witness saw you enter
the back lane,

saw Gerald park his car, but
he saw no sign of Alfred,

and he was there from
early in the evening

until past one o'clock.

- Then it's the word of
your witness against mine.

- Moreover, David Glynn
has just informed me

that he saw his father
return home

to Trebyan, shortly
after midnight.

- I'm sure you can be in no
doubt as to who killed Inez.

- I have no proof
though, have you?

- Maurice couldn't kill, he
was a child, a gentle child.

- Children grow up.

- You hated your brother
Matthew, didn't you?

- Well, why not?

Why not?

Women were properties
to be owned, possessed,

but Inez was too much for
him, he couldn't own her.

Oh God.

We should've been friends,
but she despised me,

and, when she took Maurice,

I only stayed because of him.

Was it fair?

Was it fair she had
everything, I had nothing,

I could, I couldn't,
she deserved to die.

But it made the boy so unhappy.

- It was hard to bare, isn't it?

To see him so beset,
Matthew gloating,

a great spider weaving his web.

- Please.

- Your mother knew Matthew
killed Inez, didn't she?

- Miss Glynn?

She knew or guessed.

- But she wouldn't tolerate
Matthew harming Maurice,

would she?

- She enjoyed her power
over her boys.

- So, after her death,
when Matthew finally began

to turn the screw, to
threaten Maurice,

to

torture

his brother.

- Matthew behaved like vermin,

so he had to be treated
appropriately.

So, you and Maurice?

- I suggested it.

You can't blame Maurice,
it was my idea.

- But Maurice was there.

- God, what have I said?

- He poured the drinks while
you crept up behind him

and struck the blow.

- It was my idea.

It was my idea.

Maurice would never of
thought of such a thing.

Now I've lost him.

I've lost him, I've lost my boy.

I've lost, I've lost him.

- She struck the blow,

then Maurice strangled
him just to make sure,

deliberately using the same
method that Matthew had used

to strangle Inez, all
those years previously.

- So the wheel has
turned full circle.

- It has, yes.

- I'll never understand how
someone can kill, never.

To end someone's life.

- To put out the light.

- You certainly come up with
the right words, don't you.

- Oh, it's not me, William
Shakespeare.

- During the last
war, my granddad,

my mother's father,
was lost at sea.

He was chief engineer
of an armed merchantman.

Went down with all hands,

firing its two guns
at an enemy cruiser.

His two younger brothers
followed suit,

soon after torpedoed
in the Atlantic.

Mom couldn't face any more
sailors in the family,

so I joined the police
force instead.

It's interesting, isn't it?

Quiet power of women.