All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S01E05 - Death in Disguise

(mysterious music)

(birds chirping)

(mysterious music)

- What do you wanna
meet out here for, Bill,

what's wrong with the house?

- In case we need to drop our guard.

- I have none.

I am as you see me.

- 10 years we said we'd give this place,

and then we'd cash in.

Time's up.

You've been fobbing me off.

- Yes I know,

but to a purpose, Bill.

I mean look how far we've come

in those 10 years,

a real journey of
discovery, wouldn't you say?

- All I wanna discover
is how much of it's mine.

- And what about our fellow travellers?

Do we leave them stranded

at the cross roads of your selfishness

without directions?

- Oh for God's sake,

I'm fed up with that kind of talk.

If you wanna stay on, fine.

Get the place valued and buy me out.

- I don't have the
wherewithal, you know I don't.

- Then take out a loan.

- I've got a far more exciting
proposition for you, Bill.

Stay on.

Carry on helping me to run the lodge,

recruit more travellers.

I mean look what we created here,

a way of life neither
of us ever dreamed of.

- If I had known you'd wind
up believing your own lies

I never would have come in with you.

Where's the old you?

The one--

- I know what I was capable of, Bill,

I don't need remind of it.

- Can you remember what I was capable of

when people tried to cheat me?

(mysterious music)

- Where is everyone?

Arno, dear, go and seek them out.

- Yes, May.

- Oh Trixie, dear, what are
you doing with these plates?

- Exactly what you asked me to do.

- I didn't ask you to do this.

(Bill and Ian arguing)

- I don't wanna hear anymore.

(screaming)

(mysterious music)

(suspenseful music)

(mysterious music)

(car door closing)

(engine roaring)

(dramatic music)

(tyres screeching)

(horses neighing)

- Greater love hath no fish

than that he lay down
his life for my lunch.

How's the sauce coming?

- It's a wee bit lumpy.

Tastes okay though.

- You remind me of someone.

It's either Raymond Blanc

or Jack the Ripper.

- You wait till you taste it.

- It still looks a bit funny.

- It's May Cuttle from the lodge.

- Oh the commune.

- Yeah the commune up the Manor.

She's after me for everything.

Now I don't care where I am,

but I am not here.

- Leave her to me.

- She treats me like local Bobby.

- Well that's cause you are.

- I am, I can, I will get rid of her.

- Miss Cuttle, actually we were just--

- This is terribly urgent.

- Miss Cuttle.

- Mr. Barnaby.

- Miss Cuttle.

How are you?

- I am in the pink, Mr. Barnaby.

- Oh, good.

- Alas, Mr. Carter is a
definite shade of grey.

(dramatic music)

- Chief inspector, welcome.

We haven't met,

but May tells me that
your wife has attended

one of our courses,

assertion training I believe.

- Oh yes, I remember.

12 sessions at 20 quid a throw,

plus v-a-t.

You must be--

- This is our beloved
master, chief inspector.

- Not so much master, more map reader

to my fellow pilgrims.

Ian Craigie.

- Anything to worry about?

- In life, Tom, almost always,

but in this bloke's death, nothing.

- So he fell down the stairs and what?

Broke his neck?

- You'll find it sticking out

at a rather convincing angle.

- Who found the body please?

- Ken and Heather Beavers.

- We were just off for
a walk on Combe Hill.

There's a druad slab there.

- We planned to unlock its cosmic energy,

hence the uh.

- We've kept them on to assist Bill

in his passing over.

- Has it helped?

- Well I think it has.

(Ken and Heather talking over each other)

- Yes, thank you, thank you.

Did anyone see him fall?

Anyone?

- I think I'm right in saying

the general answer would be no, inspector.

- Thank you, Mr.?

- Gibbs, Arno Gibbs.

- Mr. Gibbs.

- He'd been drinking, Tom.

Whiskey by the smell of it.

- Oh no, you've got
that quite, quite wrong.

Bill Carter didn't drink.

- I want statements.

Split them up before they invent

an official version.

- Right, sir.

All right ladies and gentleman.

Ladies and gentleman,

these officers will take
statements from you.

- Mr. Craigie, a word.

I'd like to see Mr. Carter's room.

Where are you going?

What's your name?

- This is Tim Riley, inspector.

- Well let him speak for himself.

What's your name?

- As a matter of fact
he doesn't speak at all.

- Is that because he can't

or because he won't?

- You say that as if the
first were forgivable,

the second a sin.

That will be the policeman in you,

forever doubting.

(mysterious music)

Did you know Mr. Carter well?

- I thought so.

But clearly we were strangers.

- Because he liked to drink

and you didn't know?

- A cry for help, wouldn't you say?

- Maybe he just liked having secrets.

And that must be the
downside of communal living,

you don't have any privacy.

What other living I wonder.

- Such a wise companion.

Such a kind and generous man.

And yes, a great reader all his life.

I met him shortly after
he came out of prison.

I thought that would
interest you, inspector.

- Suhami she calls herself.

- Yes she is, isn't she?

- What?

- Beautiful.

I'm a coper, I notice things like that.

(horn beeping)

(car tyres skidding)

You have taken the driving
course, haven't you, Troy?

- Yes sir.

Four or five times.

(birds chirping)

- Thanks a lot mate.

- Ah, well met, fellow seeker.

- Heather,

Ken

and Trixie.

- Hello.

- Follow me.

- Chris Wainwright.

- Oh yes, we have you
down for a self cleansing

of the spiritual pathways.

- That slight chill in the air,

no doubt you feel it,

don't be alarmed,

it's only a departing spirit.

- Departing spirit?

Has somebody died?

Who?

- His earthly name was William Carter.

- How did he die?

- You mean transcend to a higher plane?

- Okay then that.

- He fell down the stairs
and broke his neck.

Shall I show you to your room?

(bell chiming)

- Sorry about this.

We don't need an inquest surely.

Man fell down the stairs, pissed.

- Just passing the buck, Troy.

Run William Carter through the CRO mangle,

see what he was put inside for.

- Minor fraud, Craigie said.

What did you make of him, sir?

- Craigie?

Hmm, it's what Craigie made out

of me 10 years ago, that rankles.

20 times 12 is 240 quid, plus v-a-t.

- Honestly sir, your
wife, assertion training,

Coals to Newcastle, surely.

- If only it had been cooking.

- Craigie and that boy, Tim,

what do you reckon, hanky-panky?

- No, I don't think so.

I think Craigie is that
rare thing, a good man.

Remember them, Troy?

- If you ask me he's as dodgy

and as daft as the rest of 'em.

Peace, love and grow your own goats?

- Well it's a generational thing, Troy.

Some people grow out of it,

others got stuck.

Oh good, does that mean
we're mobile again?

- Yeah, sorry about that sir.

(phone ringing)

Detective Sergeant Troy.

Yeah, hold on a sec.

Coroner's office.

- Hello Steve.

Yeah William Carter, you heard about him?

Right, I don't think there's a problem,

but I'd rather be safe than sorry.

(mysterious music)

- Cully.

How'd it go?

- 50 other women auditioned
for the part, 50.

- Let's go and grab a
coffee somewhere, shall we?

- It's only a tin pot little company.

50.

- But there are three witches.

That must shorter the
odds somewhat doesn't it?

I bet you were fabulous,

when do you hear?

- Who knows.

Anyway, why you all dressed up.

- Going to a funeral, wanna come?

(bells chiming)

- Great force of light,

dispeller of darkness,
courage of the negative order.

We offer the ashes of your
servant, William Carter,

as a record of his earthly journey.

Let his spirit, revised and redimensioned.

- Question sir.

What the hell are we doing here?

- We are being polite, Troy,

at least I am.

- As a Chohan of the first ray.

We know in our humble,

insufficient hearts,

he will not disappoint.

- [Troy] And the coroner
was right, was he?

Accidental death.

- Bill Carter was a small time conman.

You did the check yourself, didn't you?

No grudges against him.

No money owing.

And his death was an accident.

- [Heather] We commend.

- We commend.

- Inspector, sergeant,
thank you for coming.

Bill was so touched.

- I'm sorry?

- He cam through to me this morning,

wanted to know who'd be here.

- Checking the guest list, eh?

- Who's the new boy, Miss Cuttle?

- Christopher Wainwright.

Used to work for the BBC, poor soul,

as a cameraman in the
most frightful places.

- Seems to be fitting in quite well.

- Oh yes, they've become good friends.

Won't you join us for lemon bomb

and some iced carrot cake?

- No, no thank you,

unfortunately we have some work to do.

But thank you, thank you all the same.

- Any chance of going any faster, Ken?

- Sorry Trix, 30 it is.

- [Heather] Bees are
very sensitive creatures,

prone to stress.

- And they know the different between 30

and 50 miles an hour, do they?

(screaming)

- [Heather] Flat tyre.

- Yes.

You better keep them calm whilst I fix it.

- I read somewhere that in a crisis

you should sing to bees.

- Oh really?

What sort of thing?

- A lullaby of course.

♪ Rock a bye baby on the treetop ♪

♪ When the wind blows
the cradle will rock ♪

- How are bees in a storm, Ken?

(thunder clapping)

(soft music)

(thunder clapping)

- What is it master?

- Tim.

Tim, are you all right?

- [May] He can't have gone far, master.

- I promised him he'd
never be frightened again.

We must find him.

Tim has gone.

Come on, May.

May.

Tim has gone.

You three, search the back of the house.

Trixie, search all the,

Come on, May.

Tim!

- Tim!

Tim!

Tim!

- Why would he come out here in a storm?

- It's his way.

Out in the open.

- [Chris] Hiding like a frightened animal.

- Tim!

Tim!

Tim!

(screaming)

- There's somebody up there.

Tim, is that you?

Where are you?

- I'm fine, Arno,

thank you dear.

Stop touching me,

it syphons the reserves.

- Such independence of spirit.

- There's no sign of him master.

- Nothing, there's no sign of him at all.

He's not around the back, master.

- We've looked everywhere, master.

- Oh and to cap it all

I feel a regression coming on.

- A regression?

When's it due, May?

- It doesn't say.

Soon.

- Tim!

Tim!

Thank God.

Christopher, we found him.

(birds chirping, dog barking)

(Cello music)

- [Ken] Careful, Tim, that's a good chap.

- Arno.

Arno.

I'll take those.

- Hail the hero.

- Oh I wouldn't put it quite like that.

- You saved her life,

that puts you right at the top of my list.

(cello music)

- Oh, hello Chris.

- Hello Chris.

We're just off to thatch.

- The new beehives.

- Gosh.

- You alone?

- Yes.

Except you never know who
they were in a previous life.

- But right now they're goats so...

- What about the others?

They do know about us, Chris,

doesn't it bother you?

- No, not at all.

But this does.

I didn't mention it last night,

but I found it on the roof,

near where the cannon ball must have been.

- Meaning that someone--

- What?

- Dislodged it on purpose?

- Well it wouldn't bother me usually,

but for this guy Bill Carter dying.

- That was an accident,

the coroner said so.

- Oh therefore it must be true.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be sharp.

- Okay so who wasn't out there
on the terrace last night?

Ken wasn't there when
it felt, nor Heather.

Arno, Trixie and Tim,

they weren't there either.

- Nor were you Suhami.

- You're the reporters?

Ken and Heather Beavers.

- Ava Rokeby, Terry Lightfoot.

- You've got a camera.

- It sort of goes with
the job, photographer.

- I'm not sure about photos, Ken.

- Why did you call our
office, Mr. Beavers?

- Have you never wondered

what goes on in the Lodge
of the Golden Windhorse?

- In passing.

- Two attempted murders,

one of the them successful.

- Bill Carter.

Coroner said it was an accident,

we know different.

- And last night someone
tried to kill someone else

with a cannon ball.

- [Ava] Names?

- Don't you think we ought to

put all this on a business footing.

- You mean how much will I pay you

to dish the dirt on your friends?

- Yes, how much?

- You're not going anywhere

until it's tied on properly.

- Don't strain yourselves.

Go with the flow.

(bright music)

Wait for me!

I'll get the door for you.

I'll do the doors.

- There are easier ways of
killing people, Mr. Wainwright.

- Maybe so, but I found
this on the roof, inspector.

Could have been used to start
the ball rolling, as it were.

- And before you ask, it's mine,

part of the car's tool kit.

- And how did your wood be murdered know

that you would all be out there

in the storm, directly
beneath his line of fire?

- So that's it, is it?

This thing nearly kills May,

and you just dismiss it.

- As would any halfway decent barrister

in two seconds flat,

unless he had something more to go on.

Miss Cuttle.

- What?

Why are you looking at me?

- I just got the feeling
something was bothering you.

- Two days after Bill Carter died

I heard voices in the master's room.

He sounded rather desperate.

- Craigie?

- Not necessarily, could have been anyone.

They spoke in a hoarse kind of whisper.

- Saying what?

- "Oh God, why couldn't
you have left well alone?

"If they do a post mortem."

- That's all?

- I'm not sure who else was there,

man or woman, they didn't speak.

- So the person you did hear
could have been on the phone?

- There isn't one there.

Then a couple of nights later,

two in the morning,

I heard someone riffling
through Bill's room.

I went to look, they scuttled
out through the window,

down onto the terrace.

- And across the lawn?

- No,

in through the front door.

- That means that someone

was from the commune,

not a burglar.

- Why didn't you say
something before Miss Cuttle?

- It didn't mean anything

until the cannon ball.

Perhaps whoever I disturbed in Bill's room

thinks I recognise them.

- In other words the cannon ball

really was meant for May, inspector.

- Not now Gaius Quintus, not now.

Not now.

- What's that mean?

- Gaius Quintus is chief taster

for a Roman general in Britain, 75 A.D.

May's due to regress soon,

extract his wisdom for us all to share.

- You've caught me at a
bad time Gaius Quintus.

Tuesday, let it be Tuesday.

What?

What's that you say?

He warns a dark force
is at work inspector.

- We must get her home, inspector.

- Don't forget this.

(phone ringing)

- [May] Ooh that silly...

(phone ringing)

- Barnaby.

- Mr. Barnaby, Ava Rokeby, County Press.

How's the inquiry going?

- Which inquiry?

- [Ava] Attempted murder,
Lodge of the Golden Windhorse.

- I'm sorry, this is a terrible line.

Press.

Who's wound them up?

On the other hand, perhaps we
ought to take May seriously.

- What?

Oh God why couldn't you
have left well enough alone?

If they do a post mortem.

That's not much to go on.

- You've convinced me.

Hope we haven't missed something,

something crucial.

- Like what, sir?

- The dark forces at work, Troy.

- Just a minute.

- Well I'm sorry about that.

- How much longer?

- About another 10 minutes, Mr. Gamelin.

Would you like any fruit juice?

- No, I'm awash with it.

Get off.

Give us your phone.

(phone ringing)

- Hello.

- I presume you've been invited

to our daughter's birthday celebration.

- You remember that we have a daughter.

- I'm trying to be civil, Felicity.

Do you want a lift down there?

- Guy, there is absolutely
nothing that I want from you.

- Does that include my money?

- [Interviewer] There have
been several allegations

made against you, Mr. Gamelin,

the most serious being
you replaced over half

the regular workforce with casual labour.

- [Guy] So what?

Those people need to eat as well.

- Happy birthday.

Whatever's wrong?

- I'm sorry.

Perhaps I'd feel better if
I hadn't lied to you, Chris.

I'm not who I say I am.

- Which of us is?

- Well that man there is,

he's an absolute bastard and proud of it.

He's cruel, vindictive,

immoral and coarse.

He's also my father.

- Guy Gamelin?

Why didn't you tell me in the first place?

- I wanted to be sure that you loved me,

not my inheritance.

- If I wanted money I'd
be out there earning some.

Not hiding in a place like this.

Of course I love you.

- Good.

In view of what I'm about to do,

that's good.

- [Ken] Heather honey.

- [Heather] What love?

- ken] No, it's Heather honey.

- [Heather] Oh, sorry,

I thought you were being affectionate.

- Be a good chap and nip over
to May with this, will you?

It's about the soft fruit

and what she needs for dessert.

Can you do that?

(bird chirping)

(upbeat music)

- What the hell?

You bloody moron!

If you've done any damage.

- What happened?

- That thing ran out in front of me.

- No prizes for guessing
where he's off to.

Tim!

No, please, not today.

- [Trixie] Hello, Guy.

- Bloody hell, what are you doing here?

- I'm very well, thank you.

Have you come to buy us up for a song?

Make us an offer we can't refuse?

- That's it,

he'll he here for hours.

- At least we know where he is.

- Yes, May.

- Well you're not here to see me,

so why are you here, Guy?

- I've come to see my daughter,

it's her birthday.

- You mean that sad little girl is yours?

Yes it figures.

Is she expecting you?

- The Craigie's are.

- There's only one Craigie,

and he's a man.

- Excuse us.

- Excuse us.

- What sort of place is this?

- It's a refuge, Guy,

for people who have been damaged

by people like you.

- (laughing) Oh I see.

A one night stand with
me damaged you, did it?

- Four nights actually.

It's funny that.

Remember the quantity, not the quality.

- Why did you invite him, master?

- Because it's your birthday,

and he's your father.

Look, have a look at his letter.

- I don't care what he said.

It's a trick.

He's up to something, I'm warning you.

- Suhami,

try to be more generous.

You found a pathway,

and you've even found
someone to share it with.

Your father may not know it,

but he is lost.

(bell ringing)

I must go and greet him.

- Well I don't have to.

- Well met fellow seeker,

welcome to the Lodge at
the Golden Windhorse.

- Hey.

- Master, this is Guy Gamelin.

- Ian Craigie.

- Where's my daughter, Mr. Craigie?

- You'll see her at supper.

- I said where is she,

meaning I wanna see her now.

- And I said at supper.

That's have sherry in the library.

You join us on a marvellous day, Guy,

not only Suhami's birthday,

but one of our number is due to regress.

- And?

- To link a spirit with a
friend from another age.

Open your mind to it, Guy,

you may learn something.

(mysterious music)

(gong banging)

- You look puzzled, Guy.

- No, I'm just wondering what it is.

- Nut roast from our own trees.

Vegetables from the garden,

bread from our own flour.

Mushrooms from our own--

- Ah, the birthday girl.

(applauding)

(mysterious music)

(screaming)

(mysterious music)

- Would you mind?

- So hunger got the better
of you, did it, Tim?

Sit down old chap.

(laughing)

- He fell out of a tree.

- Yes, he often does.

You must be--

- For a start I'm amazed
that he's still alive.

- No, she meant who are you?

(laughing)

This, I'm ashamed to say is my wife.

- And I am proud to say
the feeling is mutual.

- Why don't you just sit down?

- Sylvie, Sylvie how are you dear?

- Over here mother.

And that my friends tells
you everything about us.

My mother's stoned out of her mind,

my father abusing her,

and me wondering where to hide my face.

- Well you haven't done
too badly out of it.

- And the only terms
you understand, father,

namely money, no I haven't.

My inheritance, all three
million pounds of it.

For 18th birthday.

Thank you, daddy.

- Happy birthday.

- It now belongs to the master,

who I know will put it to good use.

- If you think I'm gonna stand by

and see three million quid

wasted on a bunch of nutters

(screaming)

you've misread me.

Is that why you took her in?

I've dealt with trickier
men than you Craigie.

If you persuaded her--

- Please

sit down, Guy.

- Master, if I might suggest

that we all hurry up.

- It's all right Ken.

Your daughter may have
made this generous offer,

but have I said that we shall accept it?

- I'll take her through, master.

- If we can hurry, master, you know

how ratty Gaius Quintus
gets when we're late.

- Yes, you go on ahead and prepare, Ken.

If you would care to join us?

- Chris, bring May's bag will you?

- That's mine,

May's is there.

- If you're ready, May,

then locate the centre of your being.

- I found it master.

I see it.

There's a golden ball.

- Push that ball, May.

Push it.

(grunting)

Push it out through
the balls of your feet.

(grunting)

You see it lifts

up into the air.

Look down on us May.

Look down.

- My name isn't May, it's Gaius Quintus.

- Welcome Gaius Quintus.

- [Heather] Where are you Gaius Quintus?

- In a Forrest.

A clearing.

Roman, Britain, 75 A.D.

We're moving north to build a wall,

but here we are settled for the night.

A wild boar is roasting

in the glowing embers as
a slaved turns the spit.

I come out of the tent,

the general follows me.

Will today be the day?

Will someone in our number

have a grudge against Rome?

A personal hatred for the general?

I Gaius Quintus will
be the first time know.

"But where are my vegetables, slave,"

said the general.

"There on the fire sir.

"Mushrooms in a skillet.

(mysterious music)

"Help me, my throat's on fire."

- May?

May, are you all right?

- Stand aside.

Give her some air.

- [Heather] A pillow, a pillow.

- [Ken] The kiss of life.

- Don't be so bloody
daft, she isn't drowning.

- Come back to me, May.

- Mush, mush.

- Huskies.

A team of dogs pulling a sled.

Antarctica.

- Don't be so silly, Arno,

mushrooms, mushrooms.

Oh goodness, what an adventure.

Put the lights on,

I have so much to tell you.

Oh oh.

(mysterious music)

- Ah, ah, ah.

(crying)

(police siren wailing)

- Well?

- Stabbing sir.

- Knife out, Tom?

- Yeah.

- Piece of gold thread there.

- [George] Not from the victim's clothing.

- A carving knife.

- They used it at supper.

Craigie carved the nut roast himself.

- Well I'll be damned, look at this.

- I said he was dodgy
right from the start.

- Well maybe, but wearing a
wig's no reason to kill a man,

with one or two notable exceptions.

(laughing)

(screaming)

can we do something about that?

- Tim.

Tim.

- Inspector, I know you think the master

was probably murders,

but you are going about
this in quite the wrong way.

- And how would you describe
his present situation?

- Well it's obviously, he's
been astrally harvested.

- And how do you explain a carving knife

stuck in his chest?

- A celestial lance.

- With made in Sheffield stamped on it?

(screaming)

Will you keep him quiet please?

- Boy, shut up.

- Listen, if someone
had stabbed the master

they'd have blood all over them.

Look around, there's not
a speck on any of us.

- Except for Tim,

there's a few spots there.

- Yes, but then he was
sitting right next...

- Ladies and gentleman we'll take

statements tomorrow morning.

In the meantime I ask you
not to leave the lodge.

- You can't keep us here against our will.

- Oh yes I can.

- Oh I see I got a copper
all to myself, do I?

- That's right sir.

- I'll tell you something,

I stopped doing my own
dirty work a long time ago.

If I wanted to kill Craigie,

I'd a paid someone else to do it.

- Is that what you usually do?

(laughing)

- Policeman outside our
door, Felicity, all night.

Mind your manners.

Night, night.

- Okay, Guy, tell me

how did you do it?

How did you kill Craigie?

- Darling.

- You shouldn't have waited up.

- That's all right.

Do you want a cup of tea?

- No, no, no whisky please.

Large, large.

- That bad, eh?

- Mm-hmm.

Those people at the lodge, I misread them.

I thought they were harmless.

Plainly one of them is not.

- Maybe they struck a cord

with the ageing hippie in you dad.

- Thank you.

If Carter was murdered,

and I caught his killer,

Craigie might still be alive.

- That's a lot of ifs and maybes.

- What does Sergeant Troy think?

- What does Sergeant Troy think?

Sergeant Troy thinks I'm a bastard.

I made hims stay overnight at the lodge

in case one of the visitors
does a moonlight fit.

Guy Gamelin, do you know him?

- Gamelin Holdings, yeah.

- That's our boy.

His daughter hates him.

Wife hates him.

They both loathe him.

How can you live with that?

- 10 minutes Tory, solarium downstairs.

Heavy day.

Killers to catch.

- Killers?

Plural?

- Good question.

- What are they doing?

- Apparently they're
clearing the astral pathways

for Craigie's journey to the
Ark of the Gathered Souls.

- You want to see me first, inspector?

- Yes, thank you Miss Channing.

- You seem to have a more,

how shall I put it,

a more earthly approach to life

than some of your friends.

- Been getting on your nerves have they?

- A little.

Would you mind telling me

where you all were last night

when Craigie was stabbed?

Troy, could you make a
note of the positions?

- Yes.

Basically everyone was
gathered around May just here.

Ken and Heather Beavers,
they were standing here.

And the Gamelins were just here.

- Right, and where was Suhami?

- Suhami was sitting
on my right, just here.

- That leaves Arno Gibbs and Christopher.

- Yes.

One either side of May.

- Which side?

- Arno to her left,

Chris to her right.

Someone always stands by in
case she has one of her swoons.

- And last night, did she go into one

of her swoons?

- During her regression
she ate a mushroom.

Now it was obviously a toadstool

because she started
grappling at her throat.

Then she fell backwards here.

We all gathered around.

Then when the lights went back on again,

there was the master.

- But you didn't see anyone stab him?

- No.

- Right, so uh where
was Tim during all this?

- You know very well he was
sitting at the master's feet,

the poor boy.

- And how far were you from Craigie?

- Craigie was there,

I was about here.

- About 10 feet.

10 feet.

- Well thank you, Miss Channing,

that'll be all for a moment.

- I know it sounds really lame inspector,

but the master really was
a thoroughly nice man.

I can't understand why anyone
would want to kill him.

- Why do you wear so much makeup?

- You've got a bloody cheek.

- It's often my job to be rude.

You've got a scar here.

- It has nothing to do with the murder,

I can assure you.

- I'll be the judge of that.

- I don't see how if I refuse to tell you.

- Excuse me.

Coffee, inspector?

- Oh, thank you, thank you very much.

- Acorna.

- I'm sorry?

- The coffee,

made from ground acorns.

- That's very interesting.

(phone ringing)

You're ringing Mr. Beavers.

- Yes.

Yes, I am.

(phone ringing)

- Allow me.

Hello.

- Ken?

- Well I never,

it's for you.

- Hello.

- Listen, Ken, we need to talk.

Dead bodies.

- Oh yes, yes a jolly good idea.

It's just I'm a little
bit tied up at the moment.

- [Ava] Police?

- Yes, yes, that's the sort of thing.

- [Ava] Call me back.

- Mr. Beavers.

- Thank you.

- Mr. Beavers, would you
take a look over there.

That's a plan of where you
were all sitting last night

when Craigie was stabbed.

Do you agree with it?

- You know inspector,

I'd give anything to be the person

you're looking for.

- That's a curious ambition.

- You're forgetting what a truly great man

the master was, inspector.

To have played such a vital part

in his onward journey to perfection.

- You'd have been given a life sentence.

- It had to be a complete stranger.

The master himself was not pleased,

I could tell.

- What do you mean?

What stranger?

- Mr. Gamelin of course.

The master seemed to reach out
to him as he fell, like this,

"why you, Why you?"

he seemed to be asking.

Such pain, such bewilderment on his face.

- I'm surprised Trixie
didn't mention it to him.

- Then again they are old
friends, astral allies.

- Hold it right there.

Why?

- Oh, don't think badly
of Heather inspector,

it's not nosiness, it's
just her cosmic aerials

are so finally tuned.

- Oh, all this clap trap.

I'm not interests in her cosmic aerials.

So can we please have no more chat

about astral paths

and the Ark of the Gathered Souls?

This man has been murdered,

and whoever killed him will pay for it.

Now can you please tell
me in plain English

why Guy Gamelin would
want to kill Ian Craigie?

- Because his daughter planned to

give her inheritance to the lodge.

- Three million pounds worth of it.

- It became hers yesterday,
her 18th birthday.

- Three million?

(phone ringing)

- That'll be for me.

Barnaby.

Yes, Dave.

Forensic.

- Yeah, just through this way, thank you.

Yes, Dave.

Oh right.

What about the thread?

- I'll take those, thank you.

- The thread on the knife

was from curtains, tapestry,
heavy material like that.

What's the colour of the
drapes in the solarium?

- Cream sir.

What about the carving knife?

- Not a print on it.

Look, Troy, I want chapter
and verse on Craigie.

(screaming)

Calm down, calm down.

- Can't you keep him under control?

- He's not a dog, Mr. Gamelin.

- No, dogs you can train.

- Troy, Troy.

What started all this?

- Guy said the master tried to con Suhami

out of her inheritance.

- Well isn't it obvious?

And him too, you think he's
not after her for her money?

- I didn't know she had
any until yesterday.

- [Tom] Take him away from here.

Mr. Gamelin, can I have a word please?

- You all right, Tim?

Now can I let go?

- Where's he going?

- The tree.

It may be the best place for him.

- You're the only one here

I know anything about, Mr. Gamelin.

- You know what I want the
press to know, that's all.

- Then tell me some more,

like why did Craigie reach
out to you when he fell?

- How should I know?

- Maybe because you just stabbed him.

- [Guy] I met Ian Craigie
less than 24 hours ago.

- [Tom] In which time you
learned that your daughter

wants to give him three million pounds,

money you worked for.

- [Guy] You might not like
the sound of this, Barnaby,

but three million is peanuts.

- So if money really isn't the problem

with Craigie and Chris
Wainwright, what is?

- I don't like my daughter being used.

- Oh, women being used.

Yeah.

Tell me about you and Miss Channing.

- She worked in one of my company's.

We had a zoological fling,

lasted three days.

- So you can't tell me anything about

the scar and the bruising on her cheek.

- No.

Look at him, another man in her life

all set to let her down.

- No one is ever good enough
for our daughters, eh?

- Maybe I should stay here for a while,

get to know him.

- That could be the way back to her.

- Suhami!

Good news, I've persuaded
your mother to stay on.

- That is not good news, May,

that is bad news.

- It's only for two months darling.

It's the self healing course

with personal guide.

- May, my mother is a drug addict.

Being waited on hand and foot by you

is not going to cure her.

- Maybe we should--

- What?

- I was about to say maybe
we should ask the master.

- Oh dear, oh.

- Bad moment?

- No, no, memories,
inspector, grief and joy

mixing like pork and mustard.

Not that I've eaten pork for years.

- Mr. Wainwright, I hear you
covered the war in Rwanda.

Does that explain in
some way why you're here?

- Yes.

In your job you see human
life at its worst, am I right?

- On a bad day, yeah.

- Take that and multiply it
by any number you care to,

and that was Rwanda every day.

I either blew my brains out

or came here to hide for a while.

- And you knew nothing of Mr. Craigie

before you came here?

- I spoke to him on the phone, that's all.

- And Mr. Carter?

- I arrived the day he died.

I nearly went away again.

I'm glad I didn't.

- Thank you.

- One,

two,

three.

- Miss Cuttle?

- What?

- Excuse me.

We're looking for Mr. Craigie's will.

Now his solicitor doesn't seem to have it,

have you gotten any ideas?

- The man you need is Arno, inspector,

wearing his admin hat.

Let it all out.

Let it all out.

Expel it.

Throw it all out.

Let it out.

- I'm afraid I don't have it Mr. Barnaby.

- [Tom] Miss Cuttle said you would.

- Well she's half right, I did have it.

- I see.

Now it gets a bit complicated, doesn't it?

I'd be very grateful
if you stop doing that.

- All right.

I drew it up for him several years ago.

In another life I used to
be a solicitor's clerk.

- Who was it made out to?

- Bill Carter, lock, stock and barrel.

- And why don't you have it anymore?

- Well the master took it off me

a few days ago,

saying he wanted to change it.

- He didn't come back
with any new instruction?

- That's right.

- Oh look this one's dying.

The question is did he
make a new will or not?

- I'm afraid I can't
help you, Mr. Barnaby.

Why is the will so important?

- Well I would have
thought that was obvious,

especially to a solicitor's clerk.

Whoever's named in the will
inherits the entire estate.

Maybe he or she decided
to hurry things on a bit.

Good morning, Troy.

Any joy?

And please say yes.

- Ian Craigie could be
Albert John Cranleigh.

Reading Jail, 1972.

That's when Bill Carter was there.

- What was Cranleigh in for?

- Some timeshare racket.

They found a six figure sum

hidden underneath his floor boards.

- Released with a forwarding address.

Mrs Cook, the Bed and Breakfast in Uptown.

- I'm seeing her tomorrow

to show her a photograph of Craigie.

- We'd better find one at the lodge.

- There is something else sir.

- Can someone get rid of this?

- Yeah.

It's from Hull CID.

I think you're gonna like this.

(laughing)

(knocking on window)

- Mr. Beavers.

- Yes?

- I'd like another word with you please.

- What about?

- About brothels, Mrs Beavers.

Or rather the one that you
and your husband ran in Hull,

the place where the
trawlers used to come from.

- Oh dear.

It was a very good brothel.

- Oh, I'm sure.

- It was a partnership, like John Lewis'

in that the staff used to
share the profits with us.

- No one was ever pressurised.

No one got hurt.

- Two or three high
ranking police officers

could have testified to
at our trial, but didn't.

- So, how did you meet Ian Craigie?

- He was on a tour of the North.

He spoke at a Seamen's Mission

where we used to eat.

- We had just been fined 87,000 pounds.

I can't tell you how bleak we felt.

- The master gave us a new way of life,

something to believe in.

- Inspector.

Does this have to become common knowledge?

- Do you mean will I tell anyone?

I'm a policeman, Mrs
Beavers, not a gossip.

After all that self
righteousness, what are they?

Brothel keepers.

- But are you any nearer
to catching the murderer?

- I'll put it this way, Joyce,

I don't know who did kill Craigie,

but I know one or two people who didn't.

You cook this, Cully?

- How can you tell?

- It's a different style, that's all.

And I've got a problem for you two.

On the night of Craigie's murder,

they're all gathered around

listening to May Cuttle.

She collapses.

They all go to her and bunch up.

All except Craigie

and Tim.

They're over there.

30 seconds later the lights go up

and there's Craigie with
a knife in his chest.

No fingerprints on the handle,

and the only prints on the blade

wiped as it went into him.

And the garlic bread, 12 feet away.

What happened?

- The pepper stabbed the Parmesan.

- Why?

Tim was devoted to Craigie,

could hardly bare to let
him out of his sight,

except when he's hiding
up that wretched tree.

- [Newscaster] Christopher Wainwright.

The bridegroom, a BBC cameraman,

who had been working in Rwanda,

where his bride was a doctor

attached to the Red Cross.

- Where is he?

Which one's the bridegroom?

- [Newscaster] Miss Roscoe
is the only daughter--

- There dear, next to the bride.

- BBC cameraman, Rwanda,
is that what he said?

Because if that is Christopher Wainwright,

who's the fella at the lodge?

- Lovely day for the wedding.

And now for tomorrow's
weather in the Southeast.

(mysterious music)

Who's that?

- [Troy] I don't know.

- Let's find out.

(mysterious music)

Miss Rokeby, how nice to see you.

And Mr. Lightfoot too, what a surprise.

- Morning, Mr. Barnaby.

- How's life in the gutter there?

Still making things up as you go along?

- Well you've been so damn secretive

about this case, Barnaby,

we thought we'd come see for ourselves.

- Have you been inside the house?

- That would be breaking
and entering Sergeant.

- So it would.

Tell you what, you give
me the film you shot,

and I won't nick you for it.

- So when do we get the full
story then, chief inspector?

- At the press conference

if and when I make an arrest.

- Come off it Barnaby.

How long have we known each other?

- Okay something a little
extra for you, Ava,

for old time's sake, but not yet.

- I'll hold you to that.

- In the meantime, vanish.

Mr. Wainwright,

who are you?

- I beg your pardon?

- Can I put the question more simply?

What's your name, cause it sure as hell

isn't Christopher Wainwright.

- Andrew Carter.

I'm Bill Carter's nephew.

I'm sorry Suhami.

- I did the same to you.

I guess we're quits now.

- But you did it for a very
good reason, Miss Gamelin,

to distance yourself
from a father you hate.

What was your reason Mr. Carter?

- Bill was the nearest I had to a father.

He wrote to me in Madrid
just after Christmas.

He wanted to leave here.

He's had a share in this place.

But Craigie wouldn't buy him out.

So I said I'd come and
stay for a few weeks,

see if we could get things worked out.

- Don't like the sound of that worked out,

it has overtones doesn't it?

- You said Bill Carter
wrote to you in Madrid,

what were you doing there?

- Usual stuff.

Waiting tables, life
guard, crewing in the Med.

Even worked at the Circus
National for a year.

- So you just picked out a name,

Christopher Wainwright.

Why him?

- I met him at Easter.

He told me he was off to Rwanda

for a year's contract.

Didn't mention coming home to
marry Lizzie Roscoe though.

- So you just bowled up here
one afternoon last month

only to find that Bill
Carter had died that morning.

You must have been devastated.

- And from the very first
I knew it was no accident.

So I stayed on to find out who killed him.

- Reach any conclusions?

- You know I have.

It's Tim Riley.

At first I thought it was Craigie himself,

but on the night of the storm

he was on the terrace

when the cannon ball fell.

And that was meant for
me, inspector, not May.

- Why?

- Because Tim had guessed who I was

and why I was here.

I think he killed Craigie as well.

- Look, Mr. Carter, I'm
sorry, I really am sorry

about your uncle's death,

but I'm asking you now to
stop your investigations,

leave it to us.

- Very well.

- What exactly are you
looking for, Mr. Barnaby?

- Mr. Craigie's will.

Mr. Gibbs didn't have it.

- Just a sec.

Albert Cranleigh.

- What?

- Six figures under the floor boards.

Maybe old habits die hard.

- Oh fabulous.

So I told Mr. Gibbs the other day,

whoever gets the money

may have had a good reason to kill him.

He leaves the lodge jointly
to you, Miss Cuttle,

and guess who else?

- And Arno.

Oh, I say.

- And this is the first
you've heard of it?

There was no hint, no discussion?

- Never.

But then he didn't know
he was going to die.

- There is a condition.

You have to continue the good work.

- What else would we do?

- Craigie and Bill Carter.

Taken what?

- Late 70's there.

- Looks like a holiday camp.

It'll do to show my
bed and breakfast lady.

I'll see you later, sir.

- And I want a word with Tim.

Tim,

I'm sorry to barge in on you like this.

I mean I'm a great one for privacy myself.

I never seem to get any.

Look, Tim, I know you've been afraid

most of your life by the feel of it.

And I imagine people have
done terrible things to you.

Maybe one day you could
tell me about them.

Give us a chance to put things right.

See that's my job, putting things right.

And at this moment I need your help

to help me do that.

I think I know what
happened to Bill Carter.

Is that how it was?

Now, what I don't know

is who killed the master.

Now you were sitting
right beside him, Tim,

you must have seen who did it.

Either that or you stabbed him yourself.

Did you see?

- Magic.

- Magic?

He was killed by magic?

I don't understand.

- Magic.

- You just worked a miracle, Mr. Barnaby,

the boy hasn't said one
word sinc he came here.

- Quite extraordinary.

How long have you had this gift?

- Since about 10:00 this morning.

What do you know about Tim?

- Nothing.

He just turned up on
the doorstep a year ago.

God knows where he came from.

- Well you should have reported it.

- Why?

So that you could have taken him away?

Will you do that now?

- Well that depends on
whether he's killed anyone.

(cows mooing)

Mrs Cook?

- Yes?

- Sergeant Troy, Causton CID.

May I have a word?

- Yes, of course, come in.

(cows mooing)

(cello music)

(applauding)

- Is there nothing you
don't excel at, May?

- Since you ask, yes there is something.

I'm not very good at hiding my feelings.

- Oh May.

- The truth is so
important, don't you think?

- How true.

- Therefore I must ask this very dangerous

and personal question of you, Arno.

Did you kill the master?

- Oh I love that God of yours

for not beating around the bush.

- Only the will and all that.

- I swear, no idea there was a new will,

or that we were named in it.

- Of course you know
what it means, don't you?

- Tell me.

- With our new responsibilities
and everything,

I'm afraid we shall have to grow up.

- Rather a frightening thought,

responsibility for others.

It makes you realise what
a great man the master was.

- Yes.

- Have you reached him yet?

- No, his spirit is detained
in the outer chamber.

There it will remain I fear,

until his killer is found.

- My dear,

you've been so frank with me,

may I return the compliment.

- Certainly.

- You didn't, you know, have anything--

- Did I kill him?

What a terrible thing to suggest.

- Oh yes, that's definitely Cranleigh.

Such a quiet voice, lovely manners.

His friend was rather different.

- You knew him too?

- Yes.

I don't recall his name, though.

- Carter.

- Yes, that's right!

He visited once or twice.

They were going into business, I think.

- Did you know Cranleigh
had been in prison?

- It's the first thing he told me.

It's why I remember him so well

after all these years.

His honesty.

- Oh, right.

(laughing)

I really must go, duty calls.

- Oh.

- Even though that cake
is begin me to stay.

- I have been told that my
cake is rather persuasive.

(laughing)

You can't go yet.

You must taste my prune nibbles.

Go on.

- You took your time.

Where have you been?

- You can't just walk in

and then walk out again, can you?

Craigie was Albert Cranleigh,

and she recognised Bill Carter too.

- So the man we know as Craigie

was an ex villain.

He meets another villain,

and together they set up

the Lodge of the Golden Windhorse,

presumably as a con.

- Yeah, but can we prove it?

- I don't know.

Those books in Carter's room,

all on pop philosophy and psychotherapy.

Craigie said Bill was a
great reader all his life,

but he was lying.

There wasn't a single book
published before 1976.

- All bought for show.

- Have a look at this.

That outlines the courses on
offer at the lodge this year.

Page four, assertion training.

Remember me telling you that 10 years ago

a session cost 20 quid?

- Yeah, you have mentioned
it a couple of times.

- How much, same session, now?

- Blimey, a fiver.

- Tell you anything?

- Yeah you were robbed.

- I think the lodge began life as a con,

but then Craigie began to believe

in what he was doing.

- So he gave up shafting the punters.

- And all those people
gathered around him,

May, Arno, Heather, Ken, all the others,

they became his family.

- But did Carter go along with it?

- No, he did not.

And that is at the heart of this.

I think they fell out.

- Punch up?

Top of the stairs?

- Could be.

Look, do you want a drink?

- No, no, I'm stuffed.

(phone ringing)

- Barnaby.

- Mr. Barnaby, Cuttle here.

Another dreadful thing has happened.

- Yes, Miss Cuttle?

- Please inspector, just get here

as quickly as you can.

(brakes screeching)

(dramatic music)

Oh come, hurry, hurry.

- [Felicity] I don't know why

everyone's so upset, Mr. Barnaby.

- Mother, please.

- Darling, it's the best thing

that's happened to us for years.

(mysterious music)

- And another thing inspector,

Trixie's gone, left
without so much as a word.

But I think I know where you can find her.

- Troy.

- [George] I've been burning

the midnight oil on this one Tom.

Interesting wrinkle to our friend Craigie,

he was dying of cancer.

- Oh, hence the baldness, chemotherapy.

- Begs the question, who
would wanna kill a dying man?

- Doesn't it just?

But this one is simple, isn't it?

Please George tell me Guy Gamelin

committed suicide.

- I'm afraid he didn't.

- And so the empty bottle in his hand?

- Should have contained heart pills.

Arteries like the M25.

No trace in his stomach though.

- So heart attack?

The man reaches for his pills,

there's none there, and bang.

- Yes, except--

- Except why didn't he have a full bottle.

The man's a millionaire.

He has people, had people

to fetch and carry for him,

organise his life to the last detail.

- Someone took them off him
at the last moment maybe,

and watched him die.

Trixie Channing?

- Every time the postman cycled up there

she'd be waiting for him.

And she always picked
out the blue envelope.

Not that the letters were fulsome

if this one's anything to go by.

The time has come, signed Raymond.

- The time has come for what?

- I don't know.

- The address is near
Ballinger, go and ask him.

- Thank you, George, I will do that.

(laughing)

- They're both in there sir,

only upstairs.

I think they're at it.

(laughing)

May Cuttle's got one.

Suhami's got one.

Trixie's got one.

What colour would you call that?

- Gold.

Gold thread.

Oh that's how the knife went

from the dinning room to the solarium,

in one of those.

Well done, Troy.

(woman laughing)

(woman moaning)

- What the hell are you doing?

- I wonder if you'd mind

coming downstairs for a little chat.

Take your time.

- Done to your liking, sir?

- Perfect.

- I said before you were a bloody cheek.

How did you find me?

Good God, is there no privacy?

- No, not in a murder case.

Guy Gamelin died yesterday

and you disappeared.

Are the two related?

- Did I kill him you mean?

No, but don't worry I'll get over it.

- Then would you mind
explaining the cryptic note?

The time has come.

- May Cuttle and Heather Beavers,

they read everyone's mail.

I told Raymond to be brief.

- About what?

- Sorry, but I really think
that's our business, inspector.

- And you can stop that.

- Yeah, stop that Troy.

Look, Mr. um?

- Jennings, Raymond Jennings.

- Mr. Jennings.

The first time I met Miss Channing

she had a scar here

and bruise there.

- And you think that Raymond,

and that I was coming back for more?

- Sorry Miss Channing,
not particularly fond

of men who beat up women.

- Oh really, and how
do you feel about women

who beat up men?

- I'm sorry?

- Raymond's wife, Mr. Barnaby,

she was a husband beater.

And when Raymond and I got friendly

she turned on me as well.

- How big is she?

- Arnold Schwarzenegger would tremble.

But yesterday my divorce came through,

I'm free of her.

We're free of her.

- And look out France, here we come.

- Not in the next few days, I trust?

- Why not?

- That's how long it'll take me

to put my case together.

Craigie's murder.

- You still think I killed him?

- And perhaps Guy Gamelin
too for good measure.

So don't go anywhere please.

(suspenseful music)

- Is there anything you
need to tell me, Trix?

- [Bartender] There you go sir.

- So what do we got?

Bill Carter murdered, possibly.

Craigie murdered definitely.

And Guy Gamelin just left to die,

not passionate, just pitiless.

- Which is even worse.

Why though?

- Someone thought he killed Craigie.

His wife and daughter,
they wanted revenge.

And given the high body count,

you know what keeps
knocking at the old skull?

That bloody cannon ball.

- Did someone try and kill
May with it, you mean?

- Or Christopher.

Just suppose that Tim
knew who he really was,

what he was doing there,

looking for Bill's killer,

would he try and stop him?

- To protect who though,

himself or Craigie?

- Whichever one of them pushed
old Bill down the stairs,

if anyone pushed him.

Oh the hell with it,

I'm gonna have another.

Do you?

- Yeah.

- Ah, same again please.

Guinness and a lager.

Thank you.

(mysterious music)

That driving course,

did you ever finish it?

Miss Gamelin, before your father died,

did you go up to his room?

- Yes, I was looking for my mother.

I saw him there, turned and walked away.

He called me back,

wanted to talk things over,

build a bridge he said.

- And was your mother in the room?

- I didn't see, I didn't go in.

I wish I had.

- I was with May, inspector,

doing yoga at the foot of the stairs.

- Strange place.

- It's an energy hot spot inspector,

Bill Carter shed all his

when he passed over, shame to waste it.

- Inspector, you know Chris did warn you

that Tim might do something drastic,

you wouldn't listen.

- [Arno] Come on Tim.

- What do you reckon, Troy?

Have those two got what it takes

to kill Craigie?

- They stand to cope a fortune,

and this place.

- Coffee, inspector?

- Oh thank you.

- Sets you up for the day, does acorna.

- And how?

Listen, will you take a seat?

The night of the storm,

when the cannonball fell,

would you talk me through it please?

- Oh we got home just as the
master was looking for Tim.

- [Tom] Where had you been?

- To collect two new beehives.

Trixie came with us.

- [Tom] Why were you so late back?

- [Ken] Puncture.

It was a tricky one,

couldn't change the wheel.

- Tim is gone.

You three, search the back of the house.

- Tim!

Tim!

(screaming)

- So when the cannonball
fell, where were you?

- Back at the house looking for Tim.

- Oh right.

There was one more tiny thing,

your little problem up north,

when you were fined,

how did you raise the money?

- Sold up everything.

House, car,

the flat in Spain.

- Spain?

Where aboutS?

- Costa del Sol.

- Where else.

Well thank you for your time.

Don't drink it.

I thought that plant was alive

last time we saw it.

How's your Spanish?

- It isn't, why?

- Tim.

My sergeant here believes
that you murdered Bill Carter.

It's all right I don't,
I know what happened.

Why don't you tell him.

- Inspector, you may have got one word out

of Tim, but that's all.

- Oh yes, I'm sorry.

Okay then, Mr. Gibbs,
why don't you tell us

how it went.

- You mean about Bill?

I wasn't there you know,

I merely heard afterwards from the master,

he slipped and fell.

- He was pushed.

- Will you please listen to me?

- Carter and Craigie
were having an argument,

one of many I imagine.

They left Craigie's room
and made for the stairs.

"Why won't you buy me
out," Carter was saying,

or words to that effect.

Craigie tried to calm him down,

but Bill was furious,

reached out for Craigie,

and that is when he was pushed.

Mr. Gibbs?

- All right Bill made a grab at the master

so I shoved him away.

Harder than I meant to, I swear.

He fell against the bannister,

lost his footing and slipped.

- Funny,

in my mind's eye

I don't see you there at all.

I see Tim.

(dramatic music)

Carter wasn't drunk,

wasn't drunk at all.

In fact he was stone cold sober.

You tried to force whisky down his throat

to make it look as if he'd fallen

because he was drunk.

Hence that conversation
you overheard, Miss Cuttle.

"Oh God, why couldn't
you leave well alone?"

"If they do a post mortem."

Can I finish that sentence for you?

"They won't find any
whisky in his stomach."

- I wanted to spare Tim the agony

you lot would have put him through.

- So you lied.

- Yes.

- Tim, Tim, there's one more thing

I need to know from you.

That night of the storm,

when the cannonball fell,

were you up on the roof?

- Don't be absurd, inspector,
Tim is terrified of storms.

- Come with me, show me
where you were hiding.

Come on, come on Tim.

And you were in here all the time?

- Yes.

- Is that the truth?

- He doesn't lie, Troy,
doesn't know how to.

Thank God some others do,

otherwise we would be out
of a job, wouldn't we?

I'll be back, Mr. Gibbs.

In the meantime, keep an eye on Tim,

don't let him out of your sight.

- All right.

- [Tom] You sure you don't
speak any Spanish, Troy?

- [Troy] Positive.

- Name like Troy, it must
mean something in Spanish.

Accident maybe, as in
didn't I always tell you

Bill Carter's death was one?

Gracias.

Adios.

Yes, thank you very much,

I'm most grateful, thank you.

It used to be if foreigners
didn't understand

you'd shout at 'em till they did.

Now they speak better English than we do.

- Helpful sir?

- Very.

Magic was the world Tim Riley used.

Magic, as in suddenly out of
nowhere there it was, murder.

- Yeah but did he see anything?

- He didn't see the murder, no,

but he saw who Craigie pointed at.

And for awhile I thought
that was Guy Gamelin.

Well come on, Troy.

(police siren wailing)

- Ahh.

- [Tom] Carter!

- Tim, let go!

Get off me!

Get off.

- [Policeman] Inside the house.

I want access to the roof, quick.

- What's happening, inspector?

- I thought I told you
to keep an eye on him?

- I let him go for 30 seconds

to get some herbs from the garden.

- Shh.

- What's going on?

(dramatic music)

- Tim.

Tim.

(dramatic music)

Get back.

You get back out of here.

Get back.

(glass shattering)

Tim.

Get an ambulance.

- Is he all right?

He just fell, I gotta
see if he's all right.

- [May Tim.

- Are you all right?

- Yes, yes, is he all right?

I couldn't believe it, he just flew at me.

- Sit down.

- Yes, you look dreadful.

Take some deep breaths.

- Is he all right, inspector?

- That's three times
you've asked that question.

His state of health must bother you.

- Well of course it does.

- Well then I'm very happy to tell you

that yes he'll be fine.

It isn't what you wanted to hear, is it?

- Inspector, Tim just tried to kill me.

- No, no, no, no.

You just tried to kill him,

just like you killed Ian Craigie.

- You think I killed the master?

- I know you did,

and so does Tim.

He saw Craigie point as he fell,

not at Guy Gamelin, but at you.

And Tim's begun to talk again, hasn't he?

And you're afraid that any day now

he'll tell us all about it.

- Inspector, why would
Chris murder the master?

- Revenge and money, Miss Gamelin.

Revenge for his uncle's death,

which he held Craigie responsible for,

and your money, which he
didn't want you to give away.

- Don't listen to him.

- I would if I were you, Miss Gamelin,

he's trying to pin everything
on a defenceless boy.

Even the cannonball,
which fell by a simple act

of God in a storm.

What might he do to you, given time?

Bill Carter knew who you were.

And I don't doubt he told
his nephew in his letters.

You used her as a business
opportunity, didn't you?

Because while Ian Craigie

turned into a thoroughly decent man,

his old partner was still on the make,

and that's why they fell out I am sure.

- That isn't true.

Suhami, it was to begin with,

but then after I met you.

- But the tyre lever, Mr. Barnaby,

Chris found it on the roof

the night of the storm.

- It wasn't on the roof in the storm.

Mr. Beavers had a puncture that evening

and he used it to remove a hubcap.

- What about the master's
death, Mr. Barnaby?

Christopher wasn't anywhere
near him when he died.

- That's right, he was with me,

looking after May,

how can he have stabbed him?

- [Tom] He didn't stab him.

- [May] Don't be so silly, Arno.

- And it's true he didn't
move from May's side

during the whole of her regression.

But he did kill Ian Craigie.

I had a little chat earlier this afternoon

with the director of the
Circus National in Madrid.

He misses you, by the way.

The way you would do
everything you were asked to.

Lion tamer, trapeze work.

Knife throwing.

He said you were (foreign language).

You were bloody good at it.

- Did he kill my husband too, Mr. Barnaby?

- I think your daughter
did that Mrs Gamelin.

- I think she went up to the guest room

to talk with her father,

and that talk turned into a quarrel,

during which he had a heart attack.

He fell, perhaps calling
out for his pills.

You took down the bottle.

- No.

That's not how it went.

- Oh, I sign of nobility at last.

I was beginning to think
you didn't have any.

- "Give them to me.

"Give them to me" he said,
like I was a servant.

And I thought of her,

and how miserable he made her

over all those years.

And that a girl like that should end up

in a place like this,

I poured them into my hand

and put them in my pocket.

- And you watched him die.

(soft music)

- Magic.

Magic.

- Magic.

- I've done a fair bit of
lying to you, inspector,

will I be charged with anything?

- Only by me.

Look after him.

- Has it come?

- Postmark Perth.

Here's to you Cully.

Cheers!

Three months in Perth.

- [Joyce] When do you start rehearsing?

- On the first.

Honestly they do sound a
fabulous bunch of people.

- Two weeks ago they were
a tin pot little company.

- Well they've improved with age.

Will you come and see it?

- Try keeping us away.

- You don't do eye of newt,

or toe of frog,

wool of bat or tongue of dog then?

- Not a la carte, sir.

(laughing)

- Oh God, don't encourage him.

- I'll have a steak, medium rare please.

- Mr. Barnaby.

- Oh, Miss Rokeby.

Do sit down.

We were just taking about you

a certain recipe brought you to mind.

- You said you'd give me something special

after the arrest.

- Yes, I did.

I was lying.

- That is outrageous.

- Well what do you expect?

He's a policeman.

- I kept my side of the bargain,

stayed clear till it was all over.

- Yes, you did.

Tell me this then,

your contact up at the manor house,

what was his name?

- Lips are sealed, ethics.

- It was Ken Beavers, wasn't it?

You even bought him a mobile telephone

so that he could reach you.

How much did you pay him?

- Again, ethics.

- Bye bye Miss Rokeby.

- 1500 quid.

Come on, Barnaby,

something to follow up
with tomorrow, anything.

You promised me.

- Hull Crown Court, September 1991,

Ken and Heather Beavers, brothel keeping.

Your readers will love it,

I know I did.

(mysterious music)