All language subtitles for George Gently 2x04 Gently Through the Mill

Subtitling made
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- Come on! Come on!
- I shot you!

- Got you!
- I got you again!

I got you! Oh, I got you!

Come on!

- Oh, no!
- You're dead!

No, I'm not! No, I'm not!

I got you!

Ah!

Yeah, right.

I told you, didn't I?
Dangerous 'round here!

Oi! Where do you
think you're going?

Very dangerous indeed!

Draper, don't
chase 'em up there.

Told you lads.

You should have kept
away, shouldn't you?

Come on!

Ah, Detective Sergeant Bacchus.

Didn't realize you cared.

I don't.

Special occasion, is it?

Wedding anniversary.

Ah, 10 out of 10
for remembering.

It was yesterday.

5 out of 10.

Shut your head, will you,
man? Pass us the bin.

John.

Put them down. We've
got a body out at Rinton.

"Let's go with Labour."
That's their slogan.

"Let's go with Labour."

But does anybody have
any idea where they're going?

Come on.

- It's touch and go, they reckon.
- Eh?

- General election on Thursday.
- Oh.

Yep. Neck and neck.

And we had a 9,000
majority last time 'round.

"We"?

You don't vote
Labour, do you, sir?

Would that be a problem?

Oh, you like paying
taxes, do you?

No, not really.

Oh, have you signed
that form for us?

- What form?
- Sir, I keep...

The seminar down in London.

- At the weekend.
- Oh, yeah, yeah.

"Detectives and the
criminal underworld...

A modern approach to
policing in the 1960s."

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

I know the man who's
running the course.

- Yeah?
- You're not going.

Perhaps the African can tell us!

I'm a British subject
now, Mr. Mundy.

With a British passport.
And these people know me.

Yeah! Tell them about the war!

Where was he when you
were risking your life, eh?

Shh, shh, Jed.

Unlike some, Mr. Mundy,
I live in County Durham.

I work in County Durham.

And I've built up my
businesses in County Durham!

And I'm not a London barrister

who only turns up
at the weekends

when he feels like
riding to hounds!

Ooh, That was a cheap
dig, that, wasn't it, sir?

Up and down the country,

the Tories are
about to be rejected.

- Rubbish!
- Excuse me?

- Men like you, Mr. Mundy.
- Excuse me?

Men who have had their chance
for 13 years and have failed!

Can we clear the roads, please?

You're blocking up the
thoroughfare. We got...

13 years of boneheaded
Tory misrule!

Nonsense!

All right, all right. Can we
clear the roads, please?

- We're trying to get through.
- Yes. Sorry. Apologies.

You see, even the police
want to get rid of you!

Up on the pavements, everyone.

Oh.

You better get to work,
Jed. Go on. Off you go.

I wouldn't care, sir,
but he's a Rhodesian.

You don't want a bigmouth
like him winning, do you?

I don't vote in
elections, Sergeant,

so it's all the same to me.

- Morning.
- 'Round the back, sir.

Morning.

Oh. He's everywhere.

- Ah.
- Chief Inspector Gently.

This is Detective
Sergeant Bacchus.

Henry Blythely, miller.

He's in here. Follow me.

I had just finished working,

and these lads come in
and get chased up here.

Patrick Fuller,
mill manager, yes?

Yeah.

Climbs the ladder.
Secures the rope.

Rope 'round his neck.

Off he goes.

Why have they called us here?

Because somebody might have
hoisted him up there, Sergeant.

Mr. Fuller a friend
of yours, was he?

We were close.

For a good many years.

Oh, I'm sorry. I-I didn't
mean to offend with the...

Try and be a bit
more thoughtful, eh?

I reckon about 8 to 10 hours.

Do you want to take a bet?

No, I don't. You're
too good at it.

Rope's cut in deep, sir.

Yeah. Too thin for the job.

No sign of a suicide note?

No. Just them.

Must be an office somewhere.

He was just the loveliest boss.

And... And... And I've never
known anyone die before.

Shh, shh, shh. It's all right.

Here you go. Look. Take that.

Bit too thoughtful, maybe?

- Yeah?
- No. Invoice.

Can I help?

Well, we're just
wondering if Mr. Fuller's left

a note or a letter or anything.

Guv.

Looks like a robbery, that.

Would you have a
look at this, please?

Don't touch anything.

Well, there's meant to be
about £50, £60, £70 in there.

So you handle the petty cash?

Me? No. I never go in there.

I mean, I'm only 17.

So how do you know
how much was in there?

Well, Patrick asks
me to keep a log.

Was the office
locked this morning?

I only came up
with you, didn't I?

'Cause when I just arrived,
they'd just found Patrick.

So no.

I mean, I've got the keys.

Get forensics out.

Can I use your telephone?

- Do you want to see me keys?
- Okay.

They're in here somewhere.

I'm going.

My wife's very upset.

She a friend of the
deceased as well?

We're all friends
here. It's a family firm.

Who's the next of kin?

Brenda, his wife.

Oh. I'll need an
address, please.

Mr. Blythely, how
many people have a key

to Patrick Fuller's office?

Patrick himself.

Julie.

Draper. Myself.

Why Draper?

He's the foreman. No,
I don't know why either.

Last foreman retired
four months back.

Patrick chose Draper. Best
man for the job, he says.

'Cause I queried it.

I mean, the man can
barely bother to be lazy.

Did he bring him
in from outside?

No, no. He's worked
here for years.

If you can call it work.

Mm. Thank you.

Mr. Draper.

Would you gather everybody
in the canteen, please?

Aye. I'm just doing this.

Now.

Sir, yes, sir!

Oh.

Look at me. Making
an exhibition of myself.

That's all right.
It's very upsetting.

Brenda. Patrick Fuller's wife.

That's her address.

I think one of you
should go straightaway.

Thank you. If we could have
you in the canteen now, please?

You okay?

Uh...

Do you want to
chuck us your hankie?

Forensics are on their way, sir.

And an ambulance.

Canteen please, Julie.

Are you thinking
what I'm thinking, sir?

There's no suicide note.

And I don't know what
Patrick Fuller's doing here

in the middle of the night,

but it's not his job to mix
the flour, though, is it?

My first question is this.

Have any of you been up
to the office this morning...

Patrick Fuller's office?

Yes, Julie. I know you have.

I ask this because
the office was open,

as was the safe and the
petty-cash box, which is empty.

I shall need all of
you on the night shift

to remain behind
for questioning.

And in order to exclude you all,

I shall want you to have
your fingerprints taken.

You calling us tealeaves?

Why don't you shut up, Draper?

You're a moron.
Somebody's dead, man.

Oh, you managed to
come to work, have you?

I had permission to help with
the campaign this morning.

Permission to be his
bum-boy, you mean.

- Shut your stupid face, Draper.
- Oi!

- Oi, oi, oi! Pair of youse!
- Come on! Outside!

There's a dead man
upstairs. Show some respect.

Be a bit more thoughtful.

Why is there an
ambulance outside?

Mr. Pershore!

Mr. Pershore. Thank
God you've come.

Chief Inspector Gently, sir.

Police?

May I ask why you're
here, Mr. Pershore?

Why I'm here?

I own the mill.

Hanged?

Sometime last night.

What a bloody waste of a life.

You're assuming suicide, then?

Well, what else?

Can you think of any reason

why Patrick Fuller
would kill himself?

No.

Just happened to
be passing, did you?

No, I try to call in every day

to check things are
running smoothly.

Even though you're up to
your eyes in the election?

Business is business.

People depend on the
mill for their livelihoods.

I believe...

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I've heard the speech.

Maybe you didn't
trust Mr. Fuller

to run the place properly?

I trusted Patrick implicitly.

Sir, we've found something.

Don't go anywhere, will you?

Democracy will just
have to muddle along

without you for a while.

I'm trying to tame him.

It's over here, sir.

It's an earring.

- Got a handkerchief, Taylor?
- Sir.

Thank you.

And then there was this, sir.

Torn clothing maybe.

That could match
Fuller's jacket, that.

- Get forensics on it, will you?
- Yes, sir.

What you thinking, guv?

Not sure.

Still suicide, but with
petty cash missing

and that and this...

Oh.

Somebody has got to go and
break the bad news to the wife.

- I'm afraid it's you.
- Thank you.

Oh, and when I get back, sir,

I want to talk
about that seminar.

Yeah, I read the bumf.
It's a recruitment seminar.

You looking for
another job, John?

- We need to talk soon.
- Fair enough.

- Mrs. Fuller?
- Yes.

I'm Detective Sergeant Bacchus.

May I come in?

Patrick's dead, isn't he?

Um, Mrs. Fuller, it's...

It seems possible that your
husband took his own life.

Yes.

I'm sorry... Did you
already know about this?

No.

It'll all come out, won't it?

My life.

Picked over.

Laughed at.

Gossiped about.

What will all come out?

Patrick's sordid behavior.

He had another woman.

If you can call a
17-year-old girl a woman.

17?

Oh, I expect you noticed her.

Men seem to.

Julie?

You don't think
Patrick hired her

for her secretarial
skills, do you?

Or her conversation?

I mean, to call her as
thick as two short planks

wouldn't be fair on the planks.

How do you know about this?

Oh, I have a sense of smell.

Galoré by Five Star.

Her perfume.

All over him when
he'd been working late.

And did it make him feel better?

Did it make him feel
like a real man again?

I don't think so.

I'm not sure I'm with
you here, Mrs. Fuller.

Make him feel better about what?

He'd been utterly humiliated.

By who?

By that... that dreadful man

that we all have to be
so grateful to, don't we?

Who pays us next to
nothing for the business

and... and then...

Look. Look at this.

He screws Patrick into
the ground over the mill.

Then he gives him a car.

How kind. How superior.

How very socialist of him!

Are you saying that your
husband used to own the mill?

It was the family firm. Sold
it to Pershore a year ago.

I say "sold." It was
daylight robbery.

But, uh, Mr. Man Of The People,
he kept Patrick on, you see?

As an employee.
Working him all hours.

Introducing workers' rights

and trade-union-negotiated
rest breaks.

But what about our rights?

He stole his pride.

And now he's given
him an early grave.

He was a changed man.

Oh, I lost my husband
a long time ago.

Obviously the
mill's nonoperational

until the police say otherwise.

But if you wouldn't
mind staying here

until they have all they need.

You will of course be
paid for a full day's work.

May I also say I know
lots of you have known

and worked for
Patrick for many years.

Foreman not interested in
what the owner has to say?

Paying us to sit and drink
tea. That's all I needed to hear.

Cannot buy me vote, though.

Calls himself a socialist.

This was Cheltenham,
he'd stand as a Tory.

Its power he wants.

You don't seem very upset
by Patrick Fuller's death.

Crying like a baby inside.

Mr. Pershore says
can he have a word?

How long have you
known Mr. Pershore, Jed?

Few months.

He's the best man I've ever met.

When I first met him,
I was on the floor.

He's picked us up
and give us a new start.

Like he'll do with the whole
town when he wins the seat.

When did you last see Patrick?

Um...

It was... It was
yesterday afternoon.

- Patrick, you're early.
- Go away.

What's wrong? What's happened?

I said go away. Are you deaf?

- Patrick.
- Go away!

Did he behave
like that very often?

Aye. More and more.

Since he lost the
mill to Pershore.

And why did your
husband sell the mill?

No, what you should be asking is

why he didn't sell
it a long time ago.

- Stubborn pride.
- Losing money?

Year after year.

He was borrowing

just to see it get... get
further and further into debt.

I had to borrow it
from me mother.

I had to lie to me mother.

And then, uh, up
steps Mr. Pershore.

Our savior.

Our knight in shining armor.

Sorry, I can't.

Don't worry about it, Julie.

It was going to the
cleaners anyway.

I'm so sorry. I'm so useless.

Julie, it's fine!

Thank you.

She was very fond of her boss.

We all were.

Except Sam Draper.

Though he had more
reason to be than most.

Yes.

So... Thank you.

Why did Patrick Fuller
promote a man like Sam Draper?

Oh, we all make mistakes.

Is that what your young
friend had against him?

My young friend?

Yeah, Jed Jimpson.

Well, Jed would have
made a better foreman.

But not my decision.

You employ a manager,
you let him manage.

Would being overlooked have
made Jed angry with Patrick Fuller?

Not at all.

Jed has eyes on a bigger prize.

Bright lights of London.
A career in politics.

Ah, another one who can't wait
to shake off the North East, eh?

- Oh, your sergeant?
- Oh, yeah.

Well, I can see what Jed gets

from helping you
with your campaign.

But what does he get
from working in a flour mill?

Well, Jed needs
some stability in his life.

He needs...

Well, he needs a father.

And that's you, is it?

Yes. In a way.

Where's his real father?

Dead. Six, seven months ago.

Dead how?

- Liver failure.
- Alcoholic?

Jed doesn't talk about it, and
I didn't know the man, but...

He was devastated.

Jed has real potential.

He has ideas.

Concrete ideas,
not university ideas.

Ways to help people.

With a bit of money from
me, he turned an old workshop

into a place where the
young lads could congregate

instead of getting into
trouble on street corners.

Practical outcomes, you see?

That's what politics is
about. Real leadership.

And Jed will be a
real leader someday.

So, what did make Patrick
Fuller choose Sam Draper?

I don't know.

See, when we
arrived this morning,

the safe in Patrick
Fuller's office was open,

but it hadn't been broken into.

Now, we think that some
petty cash had been taken.

So obviously I need to find
out if anything else is missing.

You are presumably familiar
with the contents of the safe?

Yes, of course.

- Are you a key holder?
- Yes.

Who else has a key to the safe?

Only Patrick Fuller.

Something wrong?

No.

Something missing?

Uh, no.

Uh, well...

Uh, there's an insurance policy.

But, uh, that's probably
held at my solicitor's.

There's the petty
cash, of course.

Uh, s-should have contained...

68 pounds, 18
shillings, and fourpence.

When did you last
see Patrick Fuller alive?

Yesterday afternoon.

I called him over to see me
at my election headquarters.

I'd just had a visit
from the firm's auditors.

There were holes
in the accounts.

£1,500?

But where's it gone?

This is what audits
are for, Patrick.

There'll be an explanation.
There always is.

Yes?

Yes, I'm coming now.

I'll go through everything.
I'll track it down. I promise.

I should have stayed
with him and sorted it out.

But I was busy.

Yesterday was a frantic day.

Did it occur to you at the time

that he might have
taken the money himself?

No. Absolutely not. Not then.

And now?

Why didn't you tell
me this straightaway?

Because I don't want to
believe this about Patrick.

Uh, look, there's something
else I need to tell you.

I came to find Patrick
at the mill last night.

- What time was this?
- About 11:00.

Patrick wasn't here, so I
let myself into the office.

I'd had time to think.

I'd remembered there'd
been an accounting error

at one of my other companies.

And if the same thing
had happened here,

I could call Patrick,
tell him to stop worrying.

So, uh...

So I opened the safe, but the
accounts books weren't there.

He must have taken them home.

What I did find, though, was
an envelope containing £500...

and no indication
of what it was for.

Where's this £500 now?

In my safe at my
campaign office.

I need to see it.

Morning, boys!

- Morning, Mr. Pershore.
- Morning, Mr. Pershore.

Carry on.

Oh! That's it. Off to work.

Hello, everybody!

- Morning Mr. Pershore.
- Morning Mr. Pershore.

Thursday's winner.

Yes!

Thanks, Jed.

Whew!

Jed's enthusiasm is
sometimes a little bit...

Chemically induced?

I'm helping the lad onto
the straight and narrow.

One step at a time.

Will I be getting
your vote, Mr. Gently?

No. But then neither
will anybody else.

The £500, please.

These holes in the accounts...

How long had it been going on?

£1,500 over three months.

An initial withdrawal of £500.

Then, a month later, £1,000.

And Patrick Fuller never
came back yesterday

with an explanation?

No.

Chief Inspector, I have many
enemies in the local Tory press.

They will make mischief
out of this if it becomes public.

A free press is
part of a democracy.

Would you tell me
the serial numbers

on the first and
last notes, please?

D64 741271.

And D64 741371.

Thank you.

Huh.

Sequential.

Now put the notes
back in the safe, please.

So when you found the £500,

did you telephone Patrick Fuller

and ask him why there
was such a large amount

of unexplained
cash in your safe?

- No.
- Why not?

Mr. Gently, I didn't know
anymore what to think.

Holes in the accounts.

Patrick looking as if

he had all the cares of
the world on his shoulders.

I decided not to pursue the
matter until after polling day.

If there was going to be
a scandal of some kind,

I wanted to protect my campaign.

And if that's contributed
to what's happened,

then I'm partly responsible
for a friend's death.

Did you lock up when you left?

Yes.

Did...

Did Patrick leave a note?

No. Not that we know of.

Is there anything else
you'd like to tell me

about Patrick
Fuller, Mr. Pershore?

No.

So Fuller's got woman
trouble, money trouble,

and he's behaving like
a man under pressure.

Yeah.

What's the connection?

Did she think he
was stealing money?

Well, he wouldn't have
told her if he was, would he?

Feeling enough
pressure to hang himself?

She seemed to think so.

She thought his behavior
was really strange, sir.

Look, there's a storeroom
with a woman's lost earring in it.

A piece of Fuller's jacket
snagged on a nail on the wall.

He was knocking Julie
off in that storeroom.

We've got to talk to her.

- Yeah. All right.
- Right.

I'll bring a couple of sheets

in case she wants to
blow her nose again.

So was Pershore
trying to bribe you, then?

Couldn't actually tell.

Think he's a bit too
intelligent for that.

Get away, man. The man's
as bent as a dog's hind leg.

What more do you need to know?

He takes the mill off Fuller
for a tuppence ha'penny.

And then he swans around Durham

talking about "Let's
change the world."

I mean, what does he want
to change the world for?

He's already making a
fortune out of it as it is,

thank you very much.

- And he wears poof juice.
- I beg your pardon?

Scent. It's... Ugh.

Don't tell me you
couldn't smell it on him.

It's like an Egyptian
knocking shop.

Sorry, I just...

Just don't like him. He's...

Oh, sir.

Please can I go on that course?

- No.
- Why?

Because you don't need to.

I can summarize it for
you in two sentences.

"Modern approach to
policing crime in London.

One, find out where
the villains drink.

Two, ask them for a bribe."

- You're just a cynic, guv.
- Am I?

I'll go over your head on this.

You'll what?

I really want this.

There is no future for me here.

See you at the mill.

Better late than never.

Pathologist said that
Fuller was on the job

shortly before he died.

And forensics have found
fibers on the contents of the safe.

Possibly from work gloves.

Where have you been?

Talking to people
about Geoffrey Pershore.

Right. And?

His parents owned a lot of
farmland in southern Rhodesia,

but he was educated here.

Fought in the war.

So did Hitler.

Hitler didn't fly a
Spitfire for the RAF.

Right, well, you know,
then he's a war hero.

- Let's give him a medal.
- We did.

Since then he's settled here

and built up a string of
successful businesses.

As you do if you're a socialist.

Where's Julie?

She's waiting for us.

And as you can see,
the mill's reopened.

Except the place where
we found the body.

Yeah. Give me a minute.

Tell the Blythelys I
want to talk to them.

This your office?

I can see why
you're a detective.

These yours?

Well, I'm just more
and more impressed.

Show some respect.

A man lost his life here.

The man who gave you your job.

A job that nobody else
seems to think you deserve.

Explain that to me.

Best man available.

Well, you don't do
anything, Mr. Draper.

You're not a natural
leader, are you?

Army disagreed.

I was a sergeant
in the engineers.

Not one of the few, I
know, like Pershore.

I was one of the many.

Didn't come back to
rich parents or university.

I came back to nowt, Mr. Gently.

Except broken promises.

So I'll take what I can get.

Do you think Patrick Fuller
killed himself, Mr. Draper?

You should be
talking to Jed Jimpson.

He was here with
Blythely last night.

And rowing with
Fuller yesterday.

Rowing about what?

Machines were going
full tilt. I couldn't hear.

It was threatening.
It was nasty.

Why didn't you
mention this before?

You never asked us.

Too busy calling me lazy.

Right.

Tell us about
Patrick Fuller, Julie.

He was a Capricorn,
the same as me.

I think that's why we got on.

What are you, Sergeant Bacchus?

I've got you a present.

Oh. Um...

No, no, no. I didn't...

Oh, thank you. That's...

I didn't mean his
star sign, Julie.

Uh, you know, I was talk...

I went out with this
bloke once, right?

And I said to him... I asked
him, "What star sign are you?"

And you'll never
guess what he said.

"Herpes."

It made us laugh for weeks.
Herpes isn't even a star sign.

No.

Uh, Julie, um...

Patrick Fuller.

You were close, weren't you?

I'm gonna miss him.

He was so lovely to work for.

Ever so kind and
gentle. And very patient.

'Cause I'm still
learning the job,

and me spelling's shocking.

I goes, "How come there's
a 'P' in 'pneumatic, ' then?"

And Patrick says,
"The 'P' is silent,

the same as in swimming."

Which just confused
us even more.

But me dad explained,
when I got home,

and he didn't mean
that sort of "P."

It was a joke.

Tell us about working
late with Mr. Fuller.

Half past 6:00 sometimes.

Yeah. Was that in
the morning, was it?

In the morning?

No, he... he wasn't that bad.

Those are nice earrings, Julie.

And the perfume you wear.
Is that Galoré by any chance?

Yeah.

And did Patrick buy you these?
The earrings and the perfume?

What's going on?

You and the boss, Julie!
Were you having it off with him?

That's...

I'm gonna tell my
dad you said that.

And copper or no copper,

he's gonna come down
here and thump you!

Julie, um...

Your earring...

was found in the storeroom.

My earrings are here.

And I have pierced
ears. This is a clip-on one.

And right next to it...

this thread from
Patrick Fuller's jacket.

Why are you showing them to me?

Julie...

We know that sex took place.

Right?

Now we're gonna ask
you to do an examination.

You know, a test.

It won't take them long to
examine me, Sergeant Bacchus.

I'm not really a Capricorn.

I'm a Virgo.

Well, then...

Well, um, I don't
think we need to, uh,

bother with that, then, Julie.

John, why don't
you take Julie home?

Yeah. I'll... I'll
take you home.

We started work
9:30 in the evening

and worked through till morning.

Mr. Pershore's doubled
our output, you see?

Where were you working
between midnight and 1:30?

I'll show you.

I'm sorry, I have to go.

I'm a lollipop lady.
Schools are out soon.

I won't keep you long.

How well did you know
Patrick Fuller, Mrs. Blythely?

Patrick and Henry
were best friends, really.

Henry, uh, worked
here for Patrick's Dad.

I'm sorry. I've
really got to go.

I can't miss work.

I'm afraid I gonna have to
ask you to be late for work.

- Is this where you were working?
- Aye.

Well, we know Patrick
Fuller was dead by 1:30.

So where were you
between midnight and then?

We were working between here
and where we feed the grain in.

Both of you?

Well...

What?

What?

I had an early start on
the campaign the next day,

so I left early.

I see. And went where?

Home.

Anybody corroborate that?

I live on me own
since me dad died.

All right.

Well, around that time,

did you see or
perhaps hear anything?

Nothing. No.

Sorry. 'Cause when
all this is going...

I see. Thank you.

How about you, Mrs. Blythely?

I'm in bed half
10:00, 11:00, so...

Is it true you had an argument
with Patrick Fuller yesterday?

Who told you that? Sam Draper.

Is it true?

Yeah.

Argument about what?

The way he did his
job. Or failed to do it.

You thought you
could do it better?

Anybody could do it better.

So I was telling Patrick Fuller

if he didn't get rid of
him, I'd get Geoff to do it.

Geoff?

Sorry. Mr. Pershore. Sorry.

Anyway, Patrick Fuller
was blind about Draper.

Like talking to a brick wall.

Sorry, but, uh,
wasn't all that bright.

Did you say that to
Patrick Fuller's face?

Yeah.

I told him he didn't have
the brains to run a business

and that's how
come he lost the mill

and Geoff...
Mr. Pershore... Got it.

And what was his response?

Told me to get back to me work.

Me place. Get
back to me station.

Which is presumably
how the mill used to be run

and why it went bust.

It's very easy to
speak ill of the dead.

He wasn't dead when I said it.

What do you think, Mr. Blythely?

He was your friend and
used to be your employer.

I'll be honest.

Patrick and I were
close for a lot of years.

But Jed's right.

He had no idea how
to run a business.

Mr. Pershore is
streets ahead of him.

And were you close friends
at the time of his death?

How do you mean?

I mean, if he had been
conducting an affair,

would he have confided in you?

The thing is, since
Mr. Pershore rescued the mill,

there's been a lot more
work on my shoulders

and on Patrick's.

We didn't see as
much of each other

outside of work as we used to.

Yeah, I'm sorry.

Did you just say "yes"
or "no," Mr. Blythely?

I didn't know anything
about any affair.

And you?

Wouldn't have
thought he had it in him.

And what about
you, Mrs. Blythely?

Affair with who?

Julie?

Patrick Fuller in
bed with Julie?

Whew! That takes some
imagining, that does.

I'm sorry. I have to go.

Sir, the earring.

The bloke who made
it was in Birmingham

when we were doing
the rounds yesterday.

He was buying silver,
would you believe?

Why, a jeweler buying silver.
Knock me down with a feather.

Go on.

So I left a message with
him, and he's just called in.

He said somebody fitting
Patrick Fuller's description

bought a pair of mother-of-pearl
earrings just like this one.

But he remembers him
because Fuller brought them back

to get them changed from
pierced to clip-on ones.

Typical husband.

Doesn't even realize his
wife's ears aren't pierced.

And he bought another
item to go with them, sir.

Well, they didn't
cost 1,000 quid.

And Julie's got
pierced ears, sir.

I wonder if Mrs. Blythely does.

It shouldn't have happened.

But it did.

My husband's best friend.

But I loved Patrick.

Very much.

And your husband? Had
you stopped loving him?

Henry is a lot older than me.

He is comfort and companionship.

What about his wife?

Sat in that semidetached
morgue of a house

going quietly crackers all day

because she thinks
he's knocking Julie off.

And nice of you to send me

to break the news
to her, by the way.

Well, I could hardly
tell her myself, could I?

I'm not proud of my
behavior, Sergeant,

but love is where it falls.

Right. I must remember that one.

Mrs. Blythely, what
happened on the night...

Please.

Don't tell Henry.

I mean, what purpose
would it serve now?

I can't promise
that, Mrs. Blythely.

What happened on the
night that Patrick died?

If I knew anything about that
night, I'd have come forward.

I swear.

Didn't you swear to love,
honor, and obey your husband?

Tell us what you do know.

Um...

Henry was working.

When Henry works, you
know you're not gonna see him.

He's so diligent.

Patrick would be waiting.

We were always so
happy in those moments.

But maybe there was a
sadness in him that I didn't see,

that I didn't want to see
because he was so lovely.

He was so loving.

People think...

that passion and love
are just for the young,

for the beautiful.

And I'd said how
wonderful Julie looked.

And she did.

She looked so young and
pretty in those earrings.

And the scent that she wore.

And Patrick bought them for me.

Tell me about his sadness.

What do lovers say

when they know they'll never
be together as they should be,

as man and wife.

Because for me to leave Henry
and for him to leave Brenda,

well, it was never gonna happen.

So, I mean, he didn't kill
himself because of me, did he?

There was no reason to.

As far as you are aware,

did anybody at the mill
guess about the affair?

We always had to be careful.

I mean, we tried to avoid
each other during the day

because we couldn't be near
each other without touching.

People might see.

Who, Mrs. Blythely? Who saw?

Nobody. No one saw.

I mean...

There was a time when we thought

that Sam Draper
might have seen us.

I thought for a minute he had.

He didn't see anything.

When was this?

Three, four months ago.

But we were lucky, and we
were more careful after that.

Please...

If this has to come out,

can I tell Henry myself?

Please.

I'm afraid that
won't be possible.

I need you here
for the time being.

Draper must have caught
them together in that office.

He must have.

He was blackmailing Fuller,

and that is how he
got the foreman's job.

Probably.

But Blythely was in the
mill for the whole night

when Fuller died.

And we're assuming
he didn't know about

his wife's affair
with his best friend.

Oh, so maybe he caught
them at it that night.

- Well...
- Yeah.

Go and get Draper.

Mr. Draper!

Sir. No sign of
Draper, but look.

Think he was planning
on leaving town.

He left it too late.

What?

Sir, the serial numbers
are in the same sequence

as the ones that
Pershore showed you.

So Fuller was paying Draper off.

Hmm.

Have a look.

Anything on him?

Just some betting slips, sir.

Sir.

Looks nasty, that.

Hasn't been in the water long.

Entered the river where?

Well, we found some blood
up on the corner there, sir.

Somebody hit him.

He fell and hit his head, maybe.

Jed Jimpson, sir?

Possibly. Get him
brought in anyway.

And we need to
speak to Mr. Blythely.

First you lose your boss,
then you lose you foreman.

Where were you for the last
couple of hours, Mr. Blythely?

Here.

Asleep.

Can anybody corroborate that?

As you know, I work nights.

My wife works days.

And can you think of anybody
who might want Mr. Draper dead?

Where would you
like me to start?

Give us a couple
of minutes, will you?

- Why? I mean...
- Go.

Well, you could
start with the reason

Draper was blackmailing
Patrick Fuller?

Blackmailing?

Yeah. Any idea why?

How would I?

Over his affair with
your wife, perhaps?

Or are you gonna go on
pretending you didn't know?

Of course I knew.

I knew almost from
the day it started.

- Patrick Fuller tell you?
- No.

I didn't need anybody to
tell me, Chief Inspector.

I could smell it on her.

What, from the
perfume he gave her?

No, Mr. Gently.

I could smell love on her.

Happiness.

He made her happy.

Mm.

But you lost your wife
and your best friend.

I've lost them
both for good now.

Haven't I?

Ah.

Two deaths. A
murder and a suicide.

- Or two murders.
- Exactly.

I mean, you know, Blythely
had a clear motive to kill Fuller.

And what if Draper had decided
to blackmail Blythely as well?

You know, "Give us your
money or I'll tell everybody

that your wife's
shagging your best mate."

And, bang, in he goes.

And then there's Jimpson.

He was seen rowing with Fuller.

And he attacked
Draper right in front of us.

Jimpson's not in the digs,
sir. Or his campaign office.

That was deserted.

Keep looking.

And right in the middle
of it all, who have we got?

Pershore. Knight
in shining armor.

Mrs. Blythely, your lover was
being blackmailed by Sam Draper.

So he did see us, then.

And somebody's
killed Sam Draper.

What?

Obviously it can't have
been Patrick Fuller.

Which makes me wonder
if there were other secrets

that Sam Draper knew about.

Like what?

Were there any
other parts of his life

that Patrick kept hidden?

Well, um...

There was Sunday
nights, of course.

I mean, they swear to
keep that secret, don't they?

Who swears to keep what secret?

The brotherhood.

Was Patrick a Mason?

Sir, have you ever
been asked to, uh,

roll your trouser leg up?

Many times. You?

Yeah. Chief constable
asked if I was interested.

That was before I got
his daughter up the duff.

Now he hates me guts.

Stay away from
them. That's my advice.

Ah, there harmless
enough, sir. It's just...

No, no, they're not. They're
not. There not harmless.

Police officers should never

have a sense of
conflicted loyalty.

Hate secret societies anyway.

I know one lodge in London

got just as many
crooks in it as coppers.

What does that tell you?

Well, how are we
supposed to find out

if this Mason thing
means anything?

I mean, we can't just
knock on the Mason door

and ask if we can come
in for a cup of tea, can we?

Can if you got a search warrant.

Which magistrate is
gonna sign that, sir?

They'll all be members.

I'll find one.

Well, good luck.

Just get after Jimpson.

All right. I'll get
the lads onto it.

Do we know where

Geoffrey Pershore
is, by the way?

Yeah. Still busy setting up the
People's Republic of Durham.

Why?

When he was looking at
the contents of his safe,

I had the feeling
he was expecting

something else to be there.

- Like what?
- Don't know.

What did you do with the account
books from the mill, by the way?

- Me?
- Yeah.

No, Pershore said that
Fuller took them home.

Yeah, so he did. Did you
go back and get them?

You didn't ask us to.

Do you seriously expect
to swan off to London

and do a course
on police methods

when you when you haven't
even grasped the basics?

Go and get them!

Bloody useless little...

While you sit here...

Mary Blythely?

She's plain as a pikestaff.

That's even worse.

I could understand
the 17-year-old moron.

Yeah, well...

Love is where it falls.

- So they say.
- So who says?

Um...

Mary Blythely, actually.

Sam Draper, Mrs. Fuller.

Who's he?

He wasn't having
him as well, was he?

No, no.

He made him foreman of the mill.

He was taken from
the river this morning.

Almost certainly murdered.

Murdered?

We believe he was blackmailing
your husband over the affair.

Mrs. Fuller, can we talk about
your husband's money problems?

- That's none of my business.
- You never asked about it?

- Yeah.
- And?

It's none of my business.

So now what are
you gonna tell me?

That he was a thief as well?

You said that your
husband came home

and he went
straight to his study.

- Would you mind if I had a look?
- No.

It's through here.

Not my strongpoint... Debit
and credit and whatnot.

Are you married,
Sergeant Bacchus?

Yeah.

Where's your wife right now?

At this very moment.

Don't know.

Uh, shopping. Mowing
the lawn. Don't know.

Exactly.

You don't know.

None of us knows.

I used to do accountancy.
It's how I met Patrick.

He was copying them.

No...

He was adjusting
and copying them.

So he was a thief as well.

We know nothing about
our own lives, Sergeant.

We live with strangers.

I'm gonna have to take these.

Yes, that's... that's fine.

Yes. The mafia of the mediocre.

Despicable men.

My husband was a Mason.

They were phoning
him all the time,

putting more and
more pressure on him.

Pressure about what?

Well, what do you think?

- I don't know.
- The election.

The Masons are all Tories.

And their bête
noire, Mr. Pershore,

is threatening
to win their seat.

So Patrick had Pershore
coming from one side

and the Masons from the other.

Led by that prized idiot
Mundy and his little lapdog.

Nicholas Mundy? Tory candidate?

Yeah.

The one who rides to hounds

and passes himself
off as a country squire.

Oh, I'm sure he'll agree
to see us Mrs. Fuller.

Patrick had stopped
going to the lodge,

so they came to see him.

Continue our talk
about Geoffrey Pershore.

Is there somewhere private?

And what did they want?

For goodness' sake,
wake up, Sergeant!

What... What do
you think this is?

The best man wins?

They wanted something to
bury Geoffrey Pershore with.

And they were determined
to get it from Patrick.

I've managed to
persuade your father-in-law

to spare you a few minutes.

Listen, pal.

You're just the dog
that guards his door.

Don't get carried
away with yourself.

Mm.

I must warn you, though.
He's in a foul temper.

He's just had lunch
with his daughter.

Right.

Thanks.

Good afternoon, sir.

Uh, thanks for letting
me see you so quickly.

What do you want?

Well, two things, really.

Number one?

Number one...

Could I get the
constabulary's permission

to attend a training
seminar in London?

It's a fascinating
course, sir, which will...

Granted. Number two?

Yeah, the second thing is...

a favor.

"Adjusting." What
does that mean?

I think its accountancy
talk for "fiddling the books."

So, what did they think that

Fuller had on Geoffrey
Pershore to discredit him?

Don't know. But now he's dead.

We know he's a
Mason, sir. And I think...

No, no, no, no. The
Masons are a dead end.

Masons only trust other Masons.

They don't trust you or me.

Fine. Fine. You know best.

Yes, I do. It's
odd, that, isn't it?

Must be something to do
with 20 years as a detective.

During which time, by the way,

I never attended any
seminars on modern policing.

Yeah, you've made
your point about that, sir.

Good. So I don't need
to hear about it again.

No.

- Not a word.
- Excellent.

Geoffrey Pershore's
making a speech tonight.

I think we should go and listen.

Why?

Because we haven't
found Jed Jimpson yet.

He might be there.

I can't.

Why not?

Because I've... I've got
something I need to do.

Something important.

Like what?

I said I'd take the wife out.

I missed her anniversary
and... Our anniversary.

And she'll skin me alive if I
say I'm working late again.

Well, that is important,
John. So I'll go alone.

Oh. Oh, right.

Are you sure? I feel bad.

No, no, no. Don't feel bad.

Your wife is your
support system, John.

You go and buy
her a nice dinner.

Thank you.

Hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy.

I am your
Conservative candidate.

Now, I hope we can rely on
you to vote for us tomorrow.

Hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy.
I'm your Conservative candidate.

Now, remember the slogan.
Very important slogan.

"On Thursday vote Mundy."

Ah, hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy.
I'm your Conservative candidate.

Detective Chief
Inspector Gently.

Have you got a moment?

Well...

Surely.

Concerns Patrick Fuller.

Patrick Fuller? Uh...

The man who hanged
himself out at Rinton Mill.

Whose house you
visited last week.

Ah, I'm sorry, yes. My
mind's a sieve at the moment.

Uh, yeah, yeah. Awful
business. Just awful.

How's dear, um, uh,
Mrs. Fuller holding up?

Not particularly well.

So why did you visit him?

Well, it was courtesy.

He's a... He's a valued
member of the local party.

Thanking those
who put in the effort.

And, I have to say, not an
inkling of what was to come.

Shocking.

His wife said you put
him under pressure.

Yeah, uh, just a
couple of minutes.

Um, sorry, pressure?
W-What sort of pressure?

- That's what I'm asking you.
- We really must be moving on.

No, really. I-I... Really. Um...

Uh, look, Chief Inspector,

would it be possible to
carry on this conversation

after the election tomorrow?

Now would be better.

Are you seriously expecting
me to halt my electoral campaign

at this crucial stage,
Chief Inspector?

No. I'll talk to you on Friday.

Thank you.

Hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy.
I'm your Conservative candidate.

Now, are you blue
through and through?

Now, I'll need
all metal objects.

Watches, rings, et cetera.

Right.

And if you could just
change into these.

Okay.

I'm Maurice, by the
way. Maurice Hilton.

I haven't learned
how to do that yet.

£1,500. And now...

4,000 quid. Gone where?

Oh, shit.

This is a wonderful
journey you're embarking on.

Ready?

Yeah.

Whom have you there?

Mr. John Bacchus.

A poor candidate in
a state of darkness,

humbly soliciting to be admitted

to the mysteries and
privileges of Freemasonry.

Do you feel anything?

Yes, I do, actually.

Mr. John Bacchus,

are you willing to take
a solemn obligation

to keep inviolate the secrets
and mysteries of the order?

Um, yes.

What happened?

Mr. Pershore had to
cancel. He's indisposed.

Do you know a Jed Jimpson?

- Yeah.
- Is he here?

Haven't seen him
since yesterday.

Okay. Thank you.

Chief Inspector
Gently. We meet at last.

I'm Lisa. Lisa Bacchus.

John's wife.

I saw your photo in
the paper a while back.

I, John Bacchus,
of my own free will,

do solemnly promise and swear...

under no less a penalty

than that of having my throat
cut across from ear to ear...

under no less a penalty

than that of having my throat
cut across from ear to ear...

that I will not reveal
the secrets or mysteries

belonging to the Free
and Accepted Masons.

That I will never reveal
the secrets or mysteries

belonging to Free
and Accepted Masons.

He's not with you tonight, then?

No.

When he rings to
say he's working late,

I automatically blame it on you.

Sorry.

Sometimes I say to him,

"John, why don't you just
go and marry Mr. Gently?

You might as well."

He's married to you.

Aye. But he prefers
your company.

No, that's okay. You're nice.

- Can I tell you something?
- Yeah.

I don't really like policemen.

They're all I've grown up with.

Any party. Any gathering.

Even my wedding. Policemen.

Standing in a huddle,

laughing at jokes the
rest of us don't get.

Leaving us out.

I watched my
mother cope with it.

And said, "Right. Definitely
not marrying a policeman."

But...

But you got pregnant.

Is that what he told
you? Yeah, I got pregnant.

But we were gonna
get married anyway.

I love him.

Is that what he told you?

No, no, no. I got
that bit wrong.

John keeps his
private life private.

Keeps a lot private.

Guess what I
found out this week.

Votes Tory.

- Not you, then?
- No, I want Pershore to win.

I saw him talking in the
market last weekend.

I think he's great.

Do you trust him?

Yeah.

I better go.

Rescue me mother.
She's babysitting.

Nice meeting you, Mr. Gently.

- George.
- George.

George, am I losing my husband?

He's not working
late tonight, is he?

I don't know where he is.

John Bacchus, you
have been brought

into the wisdom
and light of Masonry.

- Well done.
- Yes, sir.

- John.
- Sir.

If I have one more tearful
lunch with my daughter

on account of you,

then I shall remove your
balls and post them to you.

Understood? Say yes and smile.

Yes. Thank you. Understood.

- Edgar.
- Edgar.

And if you ever call me
Edgar outside of this lodge,

then I shall mince them
before I post them to you.

- Say thank you.
- Thank you, Edgar.

Now, go and meet
your new brothers.

Hello.

So, John...

There's trouble
up mill. Do tell.

Obviously nothing you say
goes outside these walls.

But, um, Pershore's got
both tits in the mangle, I hear.

Eh, Maurice?

What do you do, Maurice?

Maurice does as he's
told. Don't you, Maurice?

I have to go.

Have another drink, Maurice.

Brother John's on our
side, aren't you, John?

100% there, Nicholas.

I have to go.

Was it something I said?

Maurice has, um,
divided loyalties.

I suspect he has grounds
to shut down the mill.

But I think he's
a liberal at heart.

The thing is, Maurice
may not look like much,

but he could bury Pershore for
us and save the seat tomorrow.

Just like that.

Maurice?

You all right?

Yeah, absolutely. Fine, thanks.

So what do you make of us, then?

What do I make of you?

Think you're all
a bunch of crooks.

So what is it you do for
a living, then, Maurice?

Uh, we don't ask
each other, you know?

Right.

Answer the question.

That has absolutely no
authority inside these walls.

Fine. Let's go down the
station, then, shall we?

I'm not obliged to say anything

without the advice
of a solicitor.

Right, well, then let's
go down to the bar.

Must be about 20
of them in there.

What is it they want
from you, Maurice?

What is it they wanted
from Patrick Fuller?

What is it that you know that
can bury Pershore like that?

How can you close the mill down?

Is it something
to do with flour?

Are you a health inspector?

So, what's it to be, then?
Here? Now? In the bar?

Or in the morning in my office?

Fine. What time?

- Oh.
- Nice evening?

Ah, you know.

Work.

Working with Mr. Gently?

Yeah.

Sort of.

Ohh.

Me dogs are barking tonight.

Think I've got another
verruca coming.

How's Leanne?

Fast asleep.

- You're up late.
- Where have you been, John?

- I've told you.
- You didn't, actually.

And before you lie, I
saw George tonight.

- George? My...
- Your boss.

Lovely man, by the way.

Can tell why you talk
about him so much now.

Asked him where you were.

And he didn't know.

Think he didn't want to lie.

So who is she?

Oh, come on, Lis. I'm not...

I'm really tired.

I'm tired as well.

So start telling the truth,
or we can call it a day.

I was with your dad, all right?

I was at the Masons'.

- You're not a Mason.
- Well, I am now.

Why don't you go and telephone
your dad and ask him, okay?

No, it's not okay.

Why are we married, John?

The truth. Why did you marry me?

Because...

Because your dad
said he'd ruin my career

if I didn't do the
decent thing by you.

And I wanted to.

I wanted to do the
right thing for you.

Both of you. You and Leanne.

You haven't used
the word "love," John.

Lisa...

I don't think I even
know who you are, really.

"We live with strangers."

What?

A woman said to me today
that we live with strangers.

Well, I can't live
with a stranger, John.

But it doesn't
have to be like that.

Good night.

You have a very sweet wife.

She thinks you're nice and all.

Where were you, by the way?

Masonic lodge.

What?

I joined the Masons, sir.

Why don't you ask me
why I joined the Masons?

I think I'm starting
to get the picture.

No, sir. No.

You're not getting
the picture at all!

- He's in Room 4, Sarge.
- Who is?

- All right.
- Who's in Room 4?

I'm telling you, sir, if you
give me a bloody minute!

His name is Maurice Hilton.

He's the man that went with
Mundy to see Patrick Fuller

shortly before he died.

He's a food-safety
inspector, and I found him.

I found him by
joining the Masons, sir.

£4,000 was withdrawn

from the Rinton Mill bank
account six months ago.

And?

It vanished into thin air.

Mr. Hilton, do you
know how this goes?

I intend to investigate
every contact and connection

between yourself
and Patrick Fuller

and Geoffrey Pershore.

You should also know
that the fraud squad

will be looking into
your bank accounts.

I'm sorry. Might I
get a glass of water?

Not at the moment, no.

This was done with the best
intentions on everyone's part.

My team carried out its
annual inspection of the mill.

The place was decrepit.

Dirty in places, if not filthy.

Rat droppings.

I told Patrick Fuller I'd
have to issue a closure order.

But the mill didn't close,
did it? It stayed open.

Well, it was a fellow Mason.

Closing the mill
would have ruined him.

Yeah.

So you did the decent thing
to help your brother Mason.

No. No. It wasn't like that.

Geoffrey Pershore
had just bought the mill.

He was promising to
modernize the place.

Saying why make all
these people redundant

when we could create
jobs, put things right?

And he did.

I mean, he's totally
transformed the mill.

Place is a model
of cleanliness now.

How much did Geoffrey
Pershore pay you

to forget about
the closure notice?

Nowt.

I was doing it for
the greater good.

I'm a public servant.

So if I was to look back
over your bank records

I wouldn't find a
payment for £4,000?

What did you buy,
Maurice? New house?

What happened, Maurice?

The date that the £4,000 went
missing from the bank account

was five months after
Geoffrey Pershore

had bought and
modernized the mill.

So, what did he pay you for?

There was an outbreak
of food poisoning in Rinton.

19 people were hospitalized.

I traced the source
back to the mill.

Look, it was before Pershore's
reforms had kicked in.

I should have made him
stop production, but I...

I didn't.

I remember this now.

Yeah, you blamed
a Chinese chippy

for the outbreak, didn't you?

Yeah, it deserved to be closed.

I found half a goat
in the fridge once.

"Scapegoat," was it?

So the mill was never publicly
blamed for the outbreak.

No.

So, what happened
to the 19 people

who were never told the truth
about how they became ill?

They all recovered.

All except one of them.

And who was that?

It was a man in his 40s.

Six months later,
died of complications.

Liver failure.

Look, no one could
have foreseen that.

And that was when
you were paid the £4,000

for your silence, yes?

And Pershore got
the closure notice.

What did he do with it?

Said he'd keep it
under lock and key.

He said it was his,
uh, "insurance policy."

In case I ever decided
to reveal the truth.

And Nicholas Mundy?

I stupidly told
him half the story

one night at the lodge bar.

And ever since he's
been pressurizing you

to get the story in the papers?

Aye.

This man who died...

What was his name?

How can they just
print lies, Geoff?

That scumbag Mundy and
his friends in high places!

They were never
going to let me win, Jed.

But it's rubbish anyway.

What's Fuller's suicide
got to do with anything?

It's not Fuller,
Jed. It's Draper.

They'll get me for Draper.

They won't. I won't let them.

You'll keep your
mouth shut, Jed.

You have a future.

Ah, we've been
looking for you, Jed.

Salutations, gentlemen.

Offer our guests a
drink, Jed. Why not?

- None for me, thank you.
- Ah, thank you.

Not going to the count?

I'll head down in a while.

Thank you.

How's it going?

Still optimistic.

What can I do for
you, Chief Inspector?

I'm afraid I've
come to arrest you.

Doing the Tories'
dirty work for them?

Jed.

On what charge?

Bribing Maurice Hilton.

Who's Maurice Hilton?

Will you shut your face, please?

Maurice Hilton is a
food inspector, Jed.

He should have closed
down Rinton Mill, but he didn't.

Mr. Pershore gave him £4,000.

Nonsense.

Look, Hilton's coughed. You
might as well do the same.

Or else we're gonna
be here all night.

What's your
evidence, Mr. Gently?

Maurice Hilton's confession.

His word against mine, then.

But you didn't do it.

He's had smears like this
against him all his life, man.

There's always someone
wanting money off him.

Wonder why.

Because he won't
kowtow to the system.

He wants to change it.

Really?

Where were you
Tuesday morning, then?

He was with me. All
day. Out on the knocker.

Sam Draper.

What about him?

Sam Draper was
blackmailing Patrick Fuller

over his affair
with Mary Blythely.

Fuller paid him
off with bank notes

in the same sequence as
the ones you showed me.

Well, if that's
true, it's terrible.

What else was missing
from the safe, Mr. Pershore,

apart from the petty cash?

Nothing.

Nothing except what you
called your "insurance policy."

Hilton's closure
notice on the mill.

The document that you
bought from Hilton for £4,000.

- What?
- It's not true, Jed.

The document that
Draper took from the safe

when he went looking
for the blackmail money

that Fuller promised him.

Which Fuller never handed over,
of course, because he decided

to hang himself and
have done with it all.

So are you telling me
that Draper didn't come

and offer you that
document to buy back?

- You said...
- Jed!

What? "You said" what?

Did you kill Sam
Draper, Mr. Pershore?

Of course I didn't.

Well, I think you did.

I can establish a
very firm motive,

and you're unwilling
to provide an alibi.

Never stand up
in a court of law.

But it would be the end of your
political ambition, wouldn't it?

Aw.

What's wrong, Jed?

Hero's got feet of clay, has he?

You s...

You told me that it was...

Told you what, Jed?

He told me that the money

was to stop Draper from
hurting Henry Blythely.

What money?

What's going on, Geoff?

Oh, here he is. Your bum-boy.

Come to help him
with his seat, have you?

Keep out of it,
Jed. It's finished.

Draper's no longer in my employ.

Clear off, Draper.

You don't tell me to clear off.

Mr. Fancy Pants!

You remember I'll come
back whenever I like.

I've got your nuts in my hand!

Figure of speech, like, bum-boy.

Not literally. That's your job.

Jed! No!

Geoff?

Geoff?

Geoff?

I think he's dead.

Quick.

What happened next, Jed?

Geoff drove me home and...

Straight home?

Or did you stop off
somewhere else?

We stopped outside
Draper's house,

and Geoff went in for a while.

You went in to get
the closure notice.

And you destroyed it.

I should have
burned it a year ago.

Some insurance policy.

But I did it. I killed Draper.

Geoff's innocent.

Is he?

You gonna let him
do this, Mr. Pershore?

Go on thinking you're innocent?

Well...

There was a local outbreak
of food poisoning, Jed.

About a year ago.
Do you remember it?

Vaguely.

Did your father contract it?

He was an alcoholic.
He contracted everything.

He was useless.

This was a particularly
severe outbreak.

Source was traced to the mill.

A man died of complications
from it about six months ago.

Died of liver failure.

Me dad?

I, uh...

I wanted to make
it up to you, Jed.

I-I made one stupid mistake.

In the public interest.

I wanted to keep the mill
going while I cleaned it up.

I made a mistake.

You talk about fairness?!

You talk about truth and
honesty and changing the world?!

You're a crook!

You're just another
crooked businessman.

I tried to give you
your dad back, Jed.

Was I wrong?

Oi!

I don't need a dad.

Jed. Is he worth hanging for?

I should be
getting to the count.

How do you do good in life?

Do you know?

How? Without taking chances?

You mean making compromises?

I didn't compromise.
I took a chance.

And not for me.

For the good of the
mill and its workers.

And you're gonna go on
telling yourself that, are you?

Till I die.

The returning officer for
the constituency of Rinton...

- Have I missed it?
- Any minute now.

For each candidate
was as follows...

Andrew James Carr, 3,109 votes.

Nicholas Charles Reginald
Mundy, 29,647 votes.

Geoffrey Pershore, 27,116 votes.

And that Nicholas
Charles Reginald Mundy

has therefore been
duly elected to serve.

What do you think
Jimpson will get?

Manslaughter. Three, four years.

Generous of you to let
Pershore come to the count.

I'd have locked
him up straightaway.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

I'm beginning to see
why you don't vote.

Lies everywhere you look.

It's the lies you tell
yourself that kill you.

Why London?

Career move.

Chief constable put a note
on my desk, by the way.

My objections to
your going for the Met

have been overruled, apparently.

Yep.

Have you worked out yet

why he's so keen for
you to go on the seminar?

Yep. He's hoping
I won't come back.

And will you?

How do you resign from
the Masons, by the way?

You don't.

You know you've left the
Masons when they find you.

Great.

Good luck, Sergeant Bacchus.

Thank you, guv.

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