All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S12E01 - The Dogleg Murders

- Like this?

(giggles)

- No, you muppet.

Like this.

(piano music)

- Like this?

- Yeah, that's better.

- Good boy!

- I gave Becky Tunstall
a lesson today, Mum.

- I know, I'm so pleased!

She's a lovely girl!

- Can I ask her out?

- Not yet, not 'til I say so.

You and Becky Tunstall.

You make a lovely couple.

Take it out the back, Colin.

Put it away safe and sound.

- I haven't finished.

- Do as your told, this minute!

(chuckling)

- No, ow!

(scuffling)
(grunting)

Get off me, stop!

- Stop that, Colin, stop it!

(smack)
(grunt)

Do you want a good thrashing, do you?

- No, Mum.

- Then get on with your chores!

(pig snorting)

- This used to be the library, you know.

'Til your father ripped
out all the book cases.

- Yes, Martin, I've heard
that story more than once.

- By the way, I noticed
there's a loose tile

up on the west gable there.

Grandad always worried about that roof.

- Well, you can attend to
it when you buy the house.

If you buy the damn house.

- I only need a couple more days.

- Well, that's all you've got.

Or the asking price goes up, again.

- You know I'm going to
have to get all the muck

off these beams.

That's gonna be job number one.

- Bully for you.

Well I'm off to play golf.

See yourself out.

You know the way, don't you.

- Yeah, see you at the club, Will.

Won't be long now.

- No.

- I found it in the spare room.

- No.

- Oh come on, Tom!

It was good fun when
we used to play tennis.

- No it was not.

Rose-tinted spectacles there, Joyce.

- I loved that club, don't
know why we ever left.

- Well, apart from the snobbery

and the extortionate fees, there was also

the small matter of me
arresting the treasurer

for murdering his mistress.

- Details, details.

We've got to keep active, Tom.

- Why?

- What about walking?

- Muddy boots.

- Swimming?

- Chlorine, disgusting.

- How about golf?

- Oh you must be joking.

- (sighs) I give up.

- Good.

Hey Joyce, what about those tennis shorts

you used to wear?

Have you still got them?

- Good morning, Captain.

- Morning, Captain.

- Bad luck, Mr. Milner.

A quadruple bogey on
Crisp's Folly, I hear.

I bet you used that driver, didn't you?

You should keep it in
the bag on Crisp's Folly,

Mr. Milner, stick to those irons.

- Do you know what the time is, Kemp?

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hole out.

- Village members should be
off the course by midday.

- I reckon your watch must be fast.

It's not even five to yet.

- Don't worry, Mr. Kingslake.

This is the last hole we're playing.

- Well, make sure it is.

Ruddy yokels, cluttering up the course!

- Oh, come on, Kingslake.

They're only here half a day a week.

- I don't like Kemp's manner.

He's a trouble-maker.

- He gives us a jolly good
discount at that garage of his.

- I'd rather pay the
full whack and not have

his ugly mug cluttering up the course.

- [Miles] Well, I prefer Kemp to that

jumped up beggar Claypole.

- God yes, any day!

Your honour, Drinkwater.

- [Jerry] Rumour has it that Claypole

is angling for full membership.

- Over my dead body.

- Still, not much chance
of it with you three

on the membership committee, eh?

- You know the form, Jerry.

Can't discuss membership matters
outside the committee room.

- Villagers, pain in the ruddy arse!

Oh, put the thing out of its misery,

Drinkwater, for pity's sake!

(laughs) Sliced it.

Ha ha, plugged in Old Glory!

- Damn!

- Ally, you really should be quiet

when someone's making his stroke.

- Oh, don't be so wet.

A tonne says you won't
get out of there in one.

- 200 says I will.

- Okay, how about three?

- I tell you what, let's make it five.

- For heaven's sake, you two.

- A demi-grand it is.

Oh yes, route one, chaps!

A tonne says I get up and down in two!

Any takers?

- Not me, Ally.

- Me neither.

- Oh you big girls' blouses!

- Rebecca!

Rebecca come here this minute!

And you!

You go back to the Pro Shop now.

- Yes, Sir.

- What?

- I pay for you to have
lessons with the pro

and not with the steward's son.

- Clyde didn't turn up so--

- I don't care.

You are not to associate with that boy.

Do you understand?

- Associate?

What do you mean, associate?

- You know very well what I mean.

Martin, you have got to do something

about Clyde Patchett!

- Come in, Will.

- I turn up today and find
my daughter being taught

by that ghastly Fountain boy!

- Actually, Darren isn't
a bad little player.

- He's not even the Assistant Pro.

He's the damn steward's son.

And where is Patchett anyway?

- He'll be in later.

He's got a touch of flu, I think.

- Yeah, the kind you catch from a bottle!

Now listen Martin, you're
the Captain of this club.

Either you do something
about Patchett, or I will.

- [Miles] Ally, your ball's over here!

- What's the matter, Kingslake?

Don't you trust me?

For crying out loud!

(grunting)

- Mum says you're late.

- All right.

But she'll have to wait 'til tomorrow.

- Hey!

What the hell's going on?

- Out in one, Kingslake!

You owe me 500!

- That's impossible!

- Are you accusing me of cheating?

- He played it out fair
and square, Mr. Kingslake.

- Oh yeah, what's it got to do with you?

What are you doing on the course

at this time of day, anyway?

- Broken sprinkler on the eighth.

- Well, in case you hadn't
noticed, this is the 12th.

So shove off!

Course, you'll give me a
chance to win my money back.

- Of course.

- A grand on Crisp's Folly, then.

- A grand it is.

- You all right, old chap?

- Never better!

- Oh, nice one.

- Only a grand, Drinkwater, no pressure.

- Let the man play, Ally.

(snickering)

- Oh nice one, Jer.

- Yes well, don't count
your chickens, Drinkwater.

Anything can happen on Crisp's Folly.

Ho, ho, ho, oh yes, route one!

Gentlemen, I am on a roll.

Well, where the hell is my ball?

- Like you said Kingslake,
anything can happen

on Crisp's Folly.

- Must have had a bad bounce, Ally!

- No point looking for it, Ally.

Might as well go back to the tee.

- Oh, but I hit it
straight down the middle!

Ow!

Right.

You want some?

Eh, do you?

Because I'm ready if you are.

(thwack)

(whacking)

- Kingslake?

How the hell did that get there?

I hope you're not going to say your ball

was on the fairway all the time.

For God's sake, Kingslake,
what are you doing?

Ally?

(rustling)

(panting)

(clattering)

- You idiot, you trying to kill me?

- Sorry, Clyde.

- I've got a bone to
pick with you, Patchett.

- Oh really?

- About him, giving my daughter
lessons instead of you.

- Well, the thing is, you see, I must have

picked up a spot of food poisoning.

Now what?

- Something terrible's happened.

- Someone's, someone's, someone's--

- Someone's what, Ed?

- Someone has killed Ally Kingslake.

- Multiple head wounds, Tom.

Vicious stuff.

- Done with that club?

- Probably.

Won't know for sure 'til
I've got him on the slab.

Beaten to death with a one iron.

What a way to go.

This hole's famous, you know.

I played it once, got a quadruple bogey.

It's known as Crisp's Folly.

- Crisp's what?

- Folly.

Chap called Crisp lost his house
on a bet playing this hole.

It's got a 90 degree dogleg, you see.

You take a driver from
the tee and you're liable

to end up in the jungle, but with an iron

you might not get a shot at the green.

- Well that's absolutely
fascinating George,

but I don't speak golf.

Where's Jones got to?

(golfers chatting quietly)

- Thank you, sir.

- Time for golf, have we?

- Ah sir, this is Martin
Crisp, Club Captain,

and Will Tunstall, President.

- Dreadful business, Chief Inspector.

- Rest assured that we
at Whiteoaks will do

everything we can to assist
with the investigation.

- I think you should know
that we've had problems

on this hole before.

- Problems?

- Vandalism, loutish behaviour.

You see there's a a public footpath,

goes across the fairway.

It's a damn nuisance.

- [Barnaby] What is that?

- Periscope, Sir.

So people using the footpath can check

if anyone's on the 13th tee.

- Health and safety is always
a priority at Whiteoaks.

- Mr. Crisp.

Is that the Crisp of Crisp's Folly?

- Yes, it was my grandfather.

The black sheep of the family.

- As you probably know, John
Cotton is a member here,

so lines of communication
will be first rate.

- John Cotton?

- Your Chief Superintendent, Inspector.

- Yes, well, thank you, gentlemen.

That'll be all for now but we will need

to talk to you again, of course.

Thank you.

- Thanks.

- Since when has Johnny Cotton
been Chief Superintendent?

- Last week.

You should read your emails.

- Come on, my computer's broke.

What's this?

- Kingslake's ball, Sir.

- Is it?

Well if Kingslake's ball is here,

what was he doing in there?

- Well, hacking it out probably.

Mind you, you'd need a miracle shot

to get to here from in there.

- So Kingslake disappears
into the undergrowth

and one of his mates goes
looking for him, yeah?

- Man called Drinkwater found the body.

Says he saw someone fleeing the scene.

- Anyone special?

- No, just a flash of
someone in a blue hoodie.

- Ah, a hoodie.

(chuckles)

Well, that's perfect, isn't it, eh.

Local thug attempts robbery,
respectable citizen resists,

thug beats respectable citizen
to death with his own clubs.

How convenient is that?

- Well maybe that's what happened, Sir.

- Yeah, well I'm not holding my breath.

Let's go talk to some of these golfers.

- Never seen anything like it.

Poor Ally.

- I know this is a difficult
time, but if you could

give us a brief account
of what happened, please.

- Mr. Drinkwater?

- Well, we were playing
the 13th, Crisp's Folly,

and Ally creamed it off the tee.

- Absolutely mullered it.

- But when we got onto the
fairway, lo and behold,

no sign of Ally's ball.

- So Mr. Kingslake's ball
must have gone into the--

- Rough.

- Rough.

- Well, on Crisp's
Folly, you've got jungle

either side of you.

- There's not much
point in looking for it.

Might as well reload.

- Reload?

- Go back to the tee, play a new ball.

- But Ally charged off into the trees.

- To look for his ball?

- Well yes, suppose so.

- And you went to help him.

- Yes I, uh, I mean, no.

- Which, exactly?

- Well no, because his ball
was there, on the fairway.

- But you just said
there was no sign of it.

- At first, yes, but then he--

- Then he obviously
found it and played out.

- So Mr. Kingslake's ball
reappeared but he didn't.

- Yes, that's right,
so (clears throat) I--

- So you went in to see
if he was all right,

didn't you, Jer?

- Yes, that's right.

I was a little concerned.

There've been incidents in the past.

- Were these incidents
reported to the police?

- I'm really not sure.

- No idea.

- So Mr. Drinkwater, you went in to see

if Mr. Kingslake was all right, and?

- Yes, there he was, just lying there.

I thought maybe he was ill or something,

then I saw the blood and then,

and then I heard a noise in the wood

and saw this this chap running away.

- But you can't describe
this chap, Mr. Drinkwater?

- Not really.

I didn't see his face or anything,

he was wearing one of those hooded things.

Bright blue, ghastly colour.

- And until you played the
13th, it had been a game

much like any other.

Nothing untoward, nothing unusual?

- No, nothing at all.

All perfectly normal.

- I...

- Mr. Tully?

- Nothing.

- Um, Ally did have words
with some village members,

near the 12th tee.

- Village members?

- Local residents are allowed to play

between eight and 12 on
Wednesday mornings, Sir.

- Thank you.

Words, what kind of words?

- It was nearly midday.

Ally thought it was time
they were off the course.

- Would you mind if we rang
for a refill, Inspector?

- No, please.

(bell rings)

- Large ones please, Mrs. Fountain.

- Right away, Mr. Monkberry.

- He was a lovely man, was
Mr. Kingslake, a lovely man.

- I'm sure he was, Mrs.?

- Fountain, Eileen Fountain.

- Mrs. Fountain's the steward here.

- I've been working here 30 years

and we've never had
anything like this, never.

- All right, Mrs. Fountain, that'll do.

- We're going to have to talk
to these village members.

- Yeah, Mr. Kemp and Mr. Claypole.

- You won't be able to talk
to them in here, Inspector.

- Mm-hmm.

- Village members are not
allowed in the clubhouse, Sir.

- You'll find them in the cooler.

- The cooler?

- The shed behind the carpark, Sir.

For the use of village members.

- We'll be taking written
statements from all of you,

but if you do remember anything

don't hesitate to call me.

- There's something that
lot aren't telling us.

- I agree, Sir.

- Get Forensics to check their golf clubs.

All of them.

- Yes, Sir.

(grunting)
- Oh, Jones, there seems to be

an assault taking place.

- They're brothers, believe it or not.

- Are they?

- Mrs. Fountain's boys.

The steward we met?

One's the greenkeeper, the
other works in the Pro Shop.

You want to interview them now?

- No, I'll save that pleasure for later.

Where's this cooler?

- It's round there.

- It's a very sad day.

Alistair Kingslake did
a lot for this club.

He'll be sorely missed.

- Not by me, he won't.

- Steady on, Archie.

- Inspector Barnaby wants
the truth, not the spin.

- Indeed I do.

- And the truth is, he was
the rudest man I ever met.

You stick Ally Kingslake
in a room on his own,

he'd start a fight with himself.

- When you met him on the
course gentlemen, what happened?

- We was on the 16th green,
next to the 12th tee.

It was coming up to midday and Kingslake

reckoned we should be off the course.

I sell them cheap petrol.

Harry here does building
work at cost price.

And all for one round of golf a week?

He's forever trying to chuck us off.

- Was.

He's a stickler for the rules, that's all.

And quite right, too.

That's what golf's all
about, sticking to the rules.

- Where were you this afternoon?

- Giving Becky Tunstall a lesson.

(snickering)

- What kind of lesson, Sir?

- Good question, that.

- Careful, Kemp.

- Or what?

You'll set your big brother on me?

- Steady on, lads.

What'll Inspector Barnaby think?

- What kind of lesson?

- Golf, of course.

- So you're a professional, yeah?

- (chuckles) He works the
Pro Shop three days a week.

- And I do some coaching.

- Only when Clyde Patchett's
under the weather,

which is most days.

- Did you play Crisp's Folly this morning?

- Yeah, about half 10.

- There have been
incidents, have there not,

at Crisp's Folly in the past?

- Incidents?

- Yeah, um, confrontations
with local hooligans,

that sort of thing.

- Only incidents on Crisp's
Folly are golfing incidents.

It's a beast of a hole.

- Ever get the feeling you're not wanted?

- Oh, you're imagining things.

(horn beeps)

- We need to talk.

Follow me.

- [Jones] 500 quid?

- And you didn't hear
it from me, all right?

- So Alistair Kingslake
bet Jerry Drinkwater

that he couldn't get out of
this bunker in one stroke.

- That's right.

And...

- And and what, Mr. Tully?

- Well, Jerry jumped into the bunker

and the next thing we knew, his ball was

out of the sand and right on the green.

It was a pretty miraculous
shot, to be quite honest.

Ally certainly thought so.

They, there was a brief
discussion, shall we say.

- Did Mr. Kingslake
accuse him of cheating?

- Well, he came pretty
close, I can tell you.

Then Colin Fountain popped up and said

he saw Jerry play out fair and square.

So that was that.

- The greenkeeper?

- Yes, he was lurking about.

Anyway, the whole thing
seemed to upset Jerry no end.

Then he bet Ally 1,000
pounds on Crisp's Folly.

- What?

- 1,000 pounds?

- Look, a certain amount of
gambling goes on at Whiteoaks.

Always has done.

No doubt Ally Kingslake can afford to lose

a grand here and there but I can't.

What about Jerry Drinkwater?

Can he afford it?

- I really couldn't say.

- So, Mr. Tully, we have
Kingslake and Drinkwater

playing Crisp's Folly
for the 1,000 pounds.

Kingslake clouts his ball into the wood.

He goes in after it, and
suddenly out it pops.

- So it would seem.

- Another miraculous shot.

- I suppose so, yes.

- Mr. Tully, do you think
that Kingslake cheated?

- Play the ball as it lies.

Play the course as you find it,

and if you can't do either--

- Do what is fair.

- Exactly.

That's the spirit of golf.

And very much the spirit of
Whiteoaks, I'd like to think.

- Mr. Tully, you haven't
answered my question.

- If you really want to
know a man, Inspector,

play golf with him.

Ally had a temper, it's
true, and his social skills

may have been a little
lacking, particularly when

dealing with people he regarded as his,

how shall I put it, social inferiors.

But he was a man of complete integrity.

- So there.

Right, what have we got?

- An argument over a bet?

- Yeah, Jerry Drinkwater
cheats his way out of a bunker

on the 12th hole, they double the bet,

Kingslake gets his own back
by cheating on the 13th.

Drinkwater confronts him
in the wood, they fight,

and Drinkwater beats Kingslake to death,

and then makes up a story about
someone in a blue tracksuit.

- Both of them cheated?

It seems unlikely.

- What, golf being the
last bastion of fair play?

- Something like that, yeah.

- Yeah well, whatever,

Drinkwater's still got a
lot of explaining to do.

Eh look, we need a map of the golf course.

Yeah, and I need to
know where that footpath

goes to in both directions.

Where the road is, and so on.

And Jones, can you get hold
of the local news media?

This has got to be worth
an appeal, hasn't it?

You know, someone somewhere
must know something.

You know the form.

And those incidents on the 13th hole.

See if they were ever reported, yeah.

- Anything else?

- Well, if all that's a bit
too much for you, Jones,

you could always call
on the widow yourself.

- No thanks.

- Are you familiar with the expression

golf widow, Inspector?

- Er yes, well no.

I have heard it used.

- He played golf every day, rain or shine.

Then there were the committee meetings,

and the bar afterwards, of course.

So I'm used to being alone, you see.

I've had lots of practise.

- May I ask, your, your late husband

and Jerry Drinkwater, were
they very good friends?

- Well, Ally enjoyed bullying him,

and Jerry put up with it.

Maybe that passes for
friendship in male circles.

- What about Miles Tully and Ed Monkberry?

- Actually, he's seen more of those two

in the last couple of months.

The three of them would
spend hours out there

on the putting green, banging on about

some crisis at the Club.

- Crisis, what crisis?

- How would I know?

Golf chatter was banned in my presence.

(phone beeps)

- Barnaby.

- [Jones] Where are you, Sir?

- I'm outside Martin Crisp's house.

- Chief Superintendent Cotton's
been trying to reach you.

- What?

- [Jones] Well I gave
him your mobile number.

- Oh, thank you, Jones.

Have you got a map yet?

- Um, not yet, Sir.

- Well, get on with it.

- [Jones] Yes, Sir.

(phone beeps)

- Chief Superintendent.

- That was our last summer at Pellings.

My grandfather had already
lost all his money.

House went in the next month or so.

Right, look at him.

Not a care in the world.

- Your father doesn't
look too happy, does he?

- Well, he knew which
way the wind was blowing.

My poor, dear father.

Worked himself into an early
grave, paying off the debts.

He saw it as his duty.

Duty.

Not a word you hear bandied
about much now, is it?

- No Sir, you don't.

- My duty, as I see it,
is to reclaim Pellings

for my children, and their children.

- Reclaim, eh?

- Buy it back, Inspector.

Of course, it's worth a fortune now

but we're nearly there.

With a bit of luck we'll
be back in the family home

by the end of the next month.

- Actually, Mr. Crisp, it
was gambling at the Club

I came here to talk to you about.

- Well, it goes on.

I've tried to introduce some sort of rule,

but there's always stiff opposition.

The view is, it's a private
matter between members,

and if it doesn't impinge
on other members then--

- If Alistair Kingslake was
killed because of a bet,

would that qualify as impinging?

- Are you saying that Jerry
Drinkwater killed Ally?

- Oh well Sir, I have to
consider all the possibilities.

- I played golf a couple of
times with Janet Painter.

It's years ago, remember?

- No, I don't.

- It was quite a good laugh.

We even had a lesson with the pro.

He said I had natural swing.

- A natural what?

- Swing.

(Barnaby chuckles)

Oh, wait a minute, did you say

it's called the Whiteoaks?

- I did.

- Well that's the club that
Derek and Janet joined.

Took them ages to get in.

They were pleased as punch.

They had to eat a 12-course
dinner as a kind of test.

You know, eat your soup with your

pudding spoon, you're out.

- So the Painters are members

at the Whiteoaks Club, are they?

- Well, they were.

It was all Janet talked about for a while

and then Derek had some
work problems, I think,

and they packed it in.

They play badminton now.

(gasps) Badminton, Tom!

- No, no, no, Joyce.

- [George] Yes, I'd say
he was hit 6 or 7 times.

- And the blows are
consistent with a golf club?

- Yes, but...

- Yes but what, George?

- Well, the blows all
landed in pretty much

the same place.

Good grouping, in fact.

- So the killer had a good eye.

- Yes, good hand-eye coordination.

(phone rings)
Anyway, it made it damn

difficult separating
one wound from another.

But there's one that's
slightly off target.

- [Jones] Hello?

- And the angle's different.

- Sir?

- What?

- It's Chief Superintendent Cotton.

- Oh, not now.

- He's in a meeting.

- Maybe that was the first hit.

- [Jones] Yes, Sir.

- He was on his feet at the time

and that would explain the
difference in the angle.

- Hm, could be.

But there's something bothering me, Tom,

and I need a bit more time.

- Yeah well there's something
bothering me too, George.

If you'd hit a ball into that wood,

would you use a one iron to get out of it?

- Now you come to mention it, no.

- No, you use a one iron
off the tee or the fairway.

- Yeah, if at all.

There's an old saying, "If
there's lightning about,

"hold up a one iron.

"Even God can't hit a one iron."

(laughing)

- What's this?

- Oh well I'm not sure, but
it wasn't from a golf club.

- When he fell, maybe?

- No, bruising's too
small, too symmetrical.

- A punch, during the struggle?

- No, it wasn't a fist.

But whatever it was, it was
sustained before the attack.

- Right, thank you, George.

Thanks very much.

Oh, anything from forensics
about their golf clubs?

- Not yet, Sir.

But I've got a map.

- Have you, excellent.

Stick a few pins in it, that'll look good.

(phone chimes)

- Hello?

- Mr. Monkberry?

It's Detective Sergeant Jones.

It's about your statement.

When would be a good time to meet?

- Oh, um, no, I'm a bit, um, um.

- Mr. Monkberry, is everything okay?

- Yeah, yes, oh yes.

Well, I'm not quite sure, to be honest.

I just had rather an odd phone call.

- What sort of phone call?

- Oh look, it's probably nothing.

- [Jones] Where are you?

I could meet you.

- I'm in Leveretts Lane, near the club.

- Leveretts Lane, Leveretts Lane.

- What are you doing here?

Did you get a phone call, too?

- Yeah, I'll meet you there.

Hello?

(horn blaring)
(tyres screeching)

- Getcha!
(engine roaring)

- How many times do I
have to tell you, Darren?

Solids to the left, liquids to the right.

- Sorry, Mum.

- Liquids on the right.

(slap)

- And we don't need to hear
from you, thank you very much.

Clyde dear, how nice to see you.

- I bet it is.

- Have you got something for me?

And when's Darren's next
lesson with Becky Tunstall?

- Ah well, uh, we need to talk about that.

- What do you mean?

- Will Tunstall's put his foot down.

He doesn't want Darren
teaching Becky anymore.

- But we had an agreement.

- What can I do?

Tunstall wants me to teach her.

I am the Club Pro, you know.

- Well, you'll have to pay
the full interest rate then.

I'll be wanting another
200 pounds a month.

Starting now, Clyde.

You should get rid of
that silly car, dearie.

Heaven knows what it costs you to run.

And think what you're
doing to the environment.

- Don't you dearie me.

I will not be patronised
by a jumped-up barmaid.

(clattering)
(grunts)

- Don't worry.

Old man Tunstall will change his tune

when I'm a full member.

- Darren, when will you learn
to keep your mouth shut?

- This goes no further
than these four walls,

do you understand?

- Darren a member, are you serious?

(laughing) Is that what the
posh cutlery's in aid of?

Practising for dinner with the President?

(laughing) Oh, this is great.

Oh, this is hilarious.

- What's funny about it, eh?.

- Get off me, you twerp.

- Do something, Col.

Bash him up.

- Good morning.

This a bad moment?

- No, perfect.

I was just leaving.

- You should've told me.

- Families, eh Inspector?

- Families indeed, Mrs. Fountain.

Lovely craftsmanship in that.

- It was my late husband's.

He was Steward at Whiteoaks before me.

I use it to keep track
of the housekeeping.

- You took over that
job from him, did you?

- Yes, my husband was
cut down in his prime

but the club saw fit to keep me on.

It was a godsend with two
small boys to bring up.

How can I be of assistance, Inspector?

- You certainly do things
in style here, don't you?

- Social skills, Inspector.

Much undervalued these days.

I want my boy to have every advantage.

- Boy, don't you mean boys?

- What was it you wanted again?

- I wanted a word with Colin, if I may.

- Colin, what about?

- Oh, it's nothing very much.

- Well, he just popped out, as you saw.

- Ah yes, well he can't
have gone very far, can he?

So I'll take a look.

- He might be feeding the pig.

I'll take you.

- No, don't you trouble
yourself, don't worry.

I'll follow my nose.

- He won't say anything.

- Of course he won't.

My handsome boy.

(pig snorting)

- Mr. Fountain, Colin.

I'd like to talk to you, please,

about the day Alistair
Kingslake was killed.

Mr. Kingslake said that
Jerry Drinkwater cheated

on the 12th hole, didn't he?

Oh come on, Colin, you were there.

You told Mr. Kingslake
that Jerry Drinkwater

had played out of the
bunker fair and square.

But he didn't, did he?

Did he Colin?

- No.

- No.

So why did you cover for him?

- Mr. Kingslake was a rude man.

- Oh so you did it to annoy Mr. Kingslake?

- Yeah.

He was extremely annoyed, it was funny.

I didn't like Mr. Kingslake,
but I didn't kill him.

- No, I don't think you did, Colin.

- He's not going to get her.

- I'm sorry, who's not going to get who?

- My bother, Darren.

Becky Tunstall would
never go out with him.

Would she?

- I'm sorry, Colin, I
can't help you there.

- Hello?

Mr. Monkberry?

Mr. Monkberry?

(rustling)

- Hey, hey, hey you!

Aah!

(grunts)

- Look out, man!

- Did you see him?

- Who?

- Man in blue.

Man in blue fleeing the scene of crime!

- D.S. Jones, isn't it?

- Oh, hello Sir.

- What on earth is going on, Sergeant?

- Well, there's a dead body in there, Sir.

(panting)

- Multiple stab wounds
to the abdomen, Tom.

- But no cuts on his hands or his arms?

- No, no defensive wounds.

- The attack took him by surprise, then.

No time to defend himself.

- Or maybe he wasn't surprised
'cause he knew his assailant.

What was that he said to you?

- Ah, he said he'd had an odd phone call.

- His killer, do you think?

No sign of his mobile, I suppose?

- No, no, just his wallet.

There's no cash or credit
cards in it, though.

- So this person in the blue
tracksuit actually exists.

- Yes indeed.

Ah, it's a spooky place.

Time was I'd have given my
eye teeth to be a member here.

I'll stick to Causton
Municipal, thank you very much.

- Me too.

Oh, the Chief Superintendent
wants to talk to us

at the clubhouse, Sir.

- Well, the Chief Superintendent
will have to wait.

I want to look at the 13th again.

So the killer must've known that Kingslake

and his cronies were on the course.

He waits for them to get to the 13th tee

and when they do, he watches
them through that periscope.

- So he knows who's hit which ball.

- Exactly, now he wants to
lure Kingslake into the woods.

- But Kingslake hits a
great shot off the tee.

- So the killer snaffles the ball,

and then goes into the woods.

- Why would Kingslake
bother looking for it?

The ball could have gone anywhere.

He'd play another one off the tee.

- Yeah, that's been bothering me too.

But maybe, Jones, maybe he didn't have to

look for a ball at all.

Remember that bruise on his forehead?

- Ow!

- The ball was thrown at him!

- Now from what we know of Mr. Kingslake,

there's only one way he'd react

to something like that, isn't there.

- Right.

- [Jones] So he grabs a club at random.

- [Barnaby] Hence the one iron.

- And heads off into the woods to confront

whoever chucked his ball.

He gets jumped, has
his club taken off him.

- No, not necessarily, Jones.

Not necessarily.

George Bullard is worried about

one of the blows to Kingslake's head.

Now I don't want to jump
the gun, but I reckon

in a day or two George
Bullard will come to us

and tell us that the blow
was done by a different club.

- You want some?

Because I'm ready if you are.

(thwack)

- But the subsequent blows were delivered

by Kingslake's club, in order to disguise,

to obscure the first blow.

(whacking)

Good hand-eye coordination,
says George Bullard.

It's a golfer, Jones, a golfer.

- That's cheered you up, has it, Sir?

- Well, I know you think
I've got a prejudice

against the golfers, and I have.

But I've put it to one
side for the moment.

The truth, Jones, all I'm
interested in, promise you.

- Well I'm sure that'll please
the Chief Superintendent.

- Will you stop worrying about
the Chief Superintendent?

- [Jones] Who's waiting for
us back at the clubhouse.

- [Barnaby] Is he?

- Yep.
- Mm.

Now of course we can't be
sure until the pathologist

has completed his final examination.

But it looks likely that
Mr. Kingslake was struck

by two golf clubs, one of
which might have belonged to,

or at least been in the
possession of, his assailant.

- So this thug was wandering
around with a golf club?

- I think Inspector Barnaby is suggesting

the murderer is a member of this club.

- Indeed I am, sir, because
that is a possibility.

- A member, ridiculous.

Drinkwater saw the murderer running away.

And Monkberry was stabbed and had his

cash and credit cards stolen

and Sergeant Jones here saw the thug

in the blue tracksuit with his own eyes.

- Gentlemen, Inspector
Barnaby will do everything

in his power to make sure that the club

and its members are treated
with tact and discretion.

Isn't that right?

Tom?

- Yes, yes.

Tact and discretion.

- I think, John, you might
mention the possibility

of opening the front nine.

- Yes, of course.

I don't see any reason
why the front nine holes

shouldn't be open for play
from Monday, do you Barnaby?

They're well away from the SOCs.

I'll be playing over at Chedgrave
Park for the time being.

I think it's best if I keep my distance.

- I quite understand, John.

Thanks for all your help.

- A word, Barnaby.

I would appreciate it,
Barnaby, if you would

take my calls now and then.

- Yes, I'm sorry.

But you know, it's been a bit hectic.

- Of course, of course.

Do you play golf, Tom?

Perhaps you'd like to
join me at Chedgrave Park.

- No, I do not play golf, John.

I always thought it a
bit unsporting, you know,

hitting a stationary ball.

- Well, more's the pity.

- I play, Sir.

- I want a daily progress report.

- I am disappointed in you.

- It was worth a try.

- Do you play?

- Yeah!
(phone chirps)

Jones.

Something's come up, Sir.

There isn't a trace of
blood on Drinkwater's clubs.

Or Tully's and Monkberry's.

But there was an assault on Crisp's Folly

a couple of years ago.

Bloke called Derek Painter was attacked.

- Derek Painter?

- Yeah, and here's the interesting thing.

The police were called by Harry Claypole.

One of the village members we spoke to.

- Who has no recollection of
any incidents on the 13th hole.

- Yeah, he's here now, Sir, in the cooler.

- Hm.

(cheering on TV)

- [TV Announcer] Okay, Sam, now we've seen

some excellent demonstrations
of the log wedge.

Could you now show us a chip and run?

- [TV Sam] I will.

- Morning.

- [TV Sam] I'll continue
with the same club

and I'll play it more off my back foot.

- [TV Announcer] Okay.

- We'd like a word, Mr. Claypole.

(muffled speaking on TV)

- Alone, if you don't mind.

- Watch out, Harry.

Looks like they've caught
up with you at last.

- How can I help you, Inspector?

(cheering from TV)

- Give it a go.

To the left of the hole.

- To the left of the hole, Becky.

Okay, one more time.

- Hello, Colin.

- Yeah.

- Well, I came across Mr.
Painter on Crisp's Folly.

He was up by the periscope,
in some distress.

Said he'd been attacked.

So I got him back to the
clubhouse and phoned the police.

- Did Mr. Painter ask
you to phone the police?

- No, that was the thing,
when I told him I had,

he got quite shirty,
said there was no point

wasting their time when
he hadn't got a look

at whoever it was.

- Okay, so the police arrive?

- Yeah, they didn't speak to me.

They were only here
five minutes, had a word

with Mr. Tunstall and
Mr. Painter, and left.

- Mr. Tunstall?

- Yeah, he sorted it out.

He was quite annoyed about me
phoning the police as well.

Very concerned about the club's image,

is Mr. Tunstall.

Anyway, next time, I
stayed well out of it.

- Next time?

- Er, well, nothing.

- Mr. Claypole?

- Well, Jerry Drinkwater
was playing Crisp's Folly

last year, he come out the
rough with a bloody nose.

Said he'd walked into a tree.

A few months after,
Clyde Patchett was found

in a bunker, doubled
up crying like a baby.

Caught himself in a sensitive spot

with his sand-wedge, he said.

Bit odd, though, him being
a professional and so on.

- Were either of the
Fountain brothers around

at the time of these events?

- Well, you're never far
from a Fountain at Whiteoaks.

- The Fountains seem to
be a bit of an institution

around here, don't they?

- Oh yeah, the wonderful Mrs. Fountain.

The sun shines out of her, all right,

as long as there's no money involved.

- Now what can you mean by that?

- That woman, she's so tight,
she squeaks when she walks.

I did some work for her,
put a new concrete floor

in that damn pigsty of hers.

That was three years ago.

She still owes me half the money.

- You should've told us about

the attack on Mr. Painter before.

- I know, I know, but I didn't want to--

- You didn't want to cause any trouble

for the club, did you?

- There's a Captain's committee
meeting the day after next.

They're proposing new
members and the Captain,

Mr. Crisp, he's put me
up for full membership.

I'd be the first village
member to become a full member.

Mr. Crisp thinks it's
about time things were

a little more democratic round here.

- Good for him.

- Oh, he's a good bloke
Mr. Crisp, no side to him.

He manages the White Lion
Hotel in Causton, you know.

You'll even find him
serving behind the bar

when they're short.

So he understands people like me.

He's got a bit of respect.

- Thank you, Mr. Claypole,
I hope you succeed.

- The committee has to vote
unanimously, of course,

but I'm well-liked around here.

- I'm sure you are.

- All I gotta get through then
is the President's Dinner.

- Bit of an ordeal, is it?

- Oh yes.

It's curtains if you
pick up the wrong fork.

Like teeing off with your putter.

You're out.

I'd be grateful if you didn't discuss this

membership thing with anyone.

It's not done to discuss
these things in public.

- Don't you worry, Mr.
Claypole, your secret

is safe with us.

Thank you, Sir.

- We need to talk to
this Derek Painter bloke.

I'll get his details off the secretary.

- No need, I know how to get ahold of him.

Derek Painter's a friend.

He used to be a member here

but he packed it in rather suddenly.

Now, Jerry Drinkwater.

(muttering)

- Never keep a car
longer than three years.

Depreciation's terrible.

- Have you got a minute please?

- Er, er later would be better for me.

Or, or tomorrow.

- No, now please, Mr. Drinkwater.

(car horn beeps)

Just moving in, Mr. Drinkwater?

Or moving out?

- Oh, moving out.
(phone chirps)

Place was getting too small.

Growing family and so on.

(answering machine clicks on)
(beeps)

- [Woman On Phone] It's me.

I've had enough.

We're in Dorset.

And don't follow us, I mean it, Jerry.

And don't you dare try
speaking to the children

until my solicitor has.

- My wife's a bit depressed at the moment.

It's the move.

- Mm, we want to talk about the day

Alistair Kingslake was killed.

- Oh, for God's sake,
I've told you everything.

- Oh but you haven't, Sir, with respect.

You didn't tell us
about the bet you had on

with Alistair Kingslake.

- Bet, what bet?

- Mr. Drinkwater, if I
suspect, from this moment on,

that you are telling me something that is

less than the complete truth,

Detective Sergeant Jones
here will handcuff you,

take you down to Causton Police Station

and charge you with conspiracy

to pervert the course of justice.

Are we completely clear about all that?

- Now look.

- Are we clear about that?

- Okay, all right.

It was a few quid, that's all.

- 500.

- If you say so.

- And he accused you
of cheating, didn't he?

- As good as.

The nerve of the man.

- But you did cheat, Mr.
Drinkwater, didn't you?

- Now just you hold your horses, mate.

Just you hold on.

(handcuffs rattling)

Okay, all right.

I told him I got out
of that bunker in one,

and I'm ashamed to say it was a lie.

I've never done anything like that

in my life before, never.

But I was sick to death
of Kingslake's bullying,

sick of him bullying
me with his damn money.

- So you doubled the bet on Crisp's Folly.

- Yes, a grand.

What an idiot.

There was no way I
could pay him if I lost.

But if I won, well, the pleasure of

taking 1,000 smackers off Kingslake.

That man hated losing, believe me.

- So what happened?

- His tee shot was in the trees.

Gone.

And the next thing I
knew, there's his ball,

sitting in the middle of the fairway.

- So you thought he'd cheated.

- Yes, yes it was impossible.

I went after him to tell
him what I thought of him.

And there he was, lying
there, body all twisted.

I didn't kill him, I swear.

And I didn't kill Ed Monkberry.

- I know you didn't kill
Ed Monkberry because you

were visiting Eileen
Fountain, Mr. Drinkwater,

at the time, weren't you?

- Was I?

- Yes you were, until you saw me.

What were you doing there?

- Oh, catering committee stuff.

Deadly dull.

(handcuffs rattling)

I, I had an arrangement
with Mrs. Fountain.

A private arrangement.

(handcuffs rattling)

She was good enough to lend me

a small sum of money to tide me over.

I was paying her back.

- You were borrowing money
from Eileen Fountain?

- Well, I've known Mrs.
Fountain for years.

She's been very kind.

It was just to tide me over.

So I could keep on playing golf.

I've lost everything else, you see,

and now that's gone as well, I suppose.

Want to buy some clubs?

(players chattering)

- Looks like fun, doesn't it?

- Oh, yes.

- Thank you, thank you.

Hello, what are you doing here?

Look, darling, it's Joyce and Tom.

- Oh, hello.

- We decided it was
time we got more active,

didn't we, Tom?

- Yes, we did, absolutely.

- We were thinking maybe badminton,

so we came along for a look.

- Badminton or golf?

- Golf?

- Joyce has a natural swing.

- Aren't you investigating those

terrible murders at Whiteoaks?

- Yes, I am for my sins.

- Funnily enough, we
were thinking of joining

Whiteoaks at one point.

Oh wait a minute, aren't you two members?

- Um, not any more.

- Don't talk to me about that place.

- Oh, what happened?

- Darling, you don't have to talk about it

if you don't want to.

- No, of course you don't.

- No, I want to.

Tom might as well know.

I had a problem with gambling.

That's the long and the short of it.

And the one thing that kept
me out of trouble was golf.

Until I joined Whiteoaks.

- Does gambling go on up there?

- Oh, it certainly does.

- I was down a couple
of grand with nothing

but change in my pocket.

So I was pointed in the direction
of someone who could help.

- Was that someone by any
chance Eileen Fountain?

- That's right, the steward.

Turns out she's the
club's unofficial banker.

- Who pointed you in her direction?

- Will Tunstall.

He was the one I owed money to.

I should have listened to Martin Crisp.

- You've probably heard his story.

Losing that lovely house.

- Yes, after the membership
committee voted us in,

Martin Crisp took me to
one side and warned me

about the gambling element.

- So you borrowed money
from Eileen Fountain

to pay off your gambling
debts to Will Tunstall?

- Keeping it in the family he called it.

Then I fell a couple of weeks
behind with the payments.

One day I find myself in
the trees on Crisp's Folly

and Colin, Eileen Fountain's
great lump of a son,

looms out of nowhere and roughs me up.

- What?

- Derek, Derek you should have come to me.

- Anyway, we put our heads together

and managed to pay it all off.

- So no more Whiteoaks for us.

- Stick to badminton, you two.

That's my advice.

- What's it for?

- Shut up, we're counting.

- We're helping a friend,
a very good friend,

who's going to help us in return.

- But that's all we've got.

That's everything.

Spread it thin, Dad always said.

- Shouldn't you be feeding
the pig or something?

- She doesn't really like you.

She's just pretending.

She's just winding you up.

(pounding)
(grunting)

- Stop it, both of you, this minute!

I decide what's best for this family.

Darren, get on with your work.

And you, get out and don't come back

until you've calmed down.

- You aren't gonna get her.

- Ah, the map, very nice.

- Monkberry's body was found here, Sir,

just off the footpath,
about 100 yards away

from where Kingslake was found.

- And the assaults on
Drinkwater and Painter?

- Here, Sir.

Where Kingslake was found.

Oh, and Clyde Patchett's
alleged groin injury

occurred in this bunker here.

- Ah, Crisp's Folly again.

- Right, so Painter and Drinkwater were

assaulted here and--

- Uh, thank you, Jones,
been there, done that.

What did Miles Tully
have to say for himself?

- Ah, he said the meetings
at Kingslake's house

were about the membership committee.

They were worried about
some of the candidates

that Martin Crisp was putting up.

Like that Claypole bloke.

Not our sort of chap, don't ya know.

- Transpires, Jones, that Eileen Fountain

runs a very, very lucrative
money lending operation.

- Well, well.

That nice Mrs. Fountain.

- That nice Mrs. Fountain.

Derek Painter borrowed a
couple of grand from her

at extortionate interest
rates to cover his losses

and so did Jerry Drinkwater.

And heaven knows how many others.

- Offering loans without a licence.

Consumer Credit Act, 1974.

- And Colin Fountain, he
strong arms those people

who fall behind with their payments.

- Well, that's extortion.

Let's pull 'em in.

- No, let them be for the
minute while we work out

the connection with those two murders.

- Is there a connection?

I mean, Kingslake had money,
he didn't need any loans.

And Monkberry wasn't a gambler.

Sir, we could still be
looking for a local bad boy.

- Oh, I think there's got
to be a connection, Jones.

Will Tunstall it was who
delivered Derek Painter

into the delicate clutches
of Eileen Fountain.

So let's go and ask him why the President

of Whiteoaks Golf Club
touts for a loan shark.

Yeah.

- [Will] Have you got the money?

- I'll have the money
by the end of the day.

- I've heard all that before.

- Well, I had the money six months ago.

Then you put the price up.

- Yes, because you took so long about it

and the market went up.

Now do you expect me to sell you an asset

at less than the market price?

- Dad, that policeman's here.

- Actually, this isn't
terribly convenient.

- It'll only take a minute, Sir.

- I'm off to the club for a lesson, Dad.

- Who with?

- Don't get stressed,
it's with Clyde, okay?

- I'd better be getting along.

- No, no, Mr. Crisp.

Stay where you are, I'd
like you to hear this too.

- Have you caught the murderer, Inspector?

- No, this concerns Eileen Fountain.

It is alleged that
she's been lending money

to members at Whiteoaks.

- Well, if Eileen wants to lend people

a few quid here and there,
surely that's her business.

- Colin's been using force
to extract repayments.

- Now did either of you know about this?

- Certainly not.

- Mr. Tunstall?

- No, of course not.

- Mr. Crisp, thank you.

We'd like to talk to Mr.
Tunstall alone now, please.

- Er yes, well, I have a
committee meeting to prepare for.

Gambling, Will.

That's what's brought
us to this sorry state.

You and me both.

- Spare me the sermonising, Martin.

Oh and Martin.

- [Martin] What?

- [Jones] So you don't know anything about

Mrs. Fountain's money-lending?

- Am I missing something here?

Never mind Mrs. Fountain.

Two men have been murdered,
two damn good friends of mine.

- [Jones] We have a
witness who says you did.

In fact, he claims you recommended her.

Makes you an accomplice, Mr. Tunstall.

- That's outrageous.

You wait 'til my friend John
Cotton hears about this.

- I'll be reporting it to
the Chief Superintendent

later on today so it
won't be a very long wait.

- Look, somewhere along the line,

someone got their wires crossed perhaps.

Perhaps I didn't fully take on board--

- Mr. Tunstall, thank you very much.

That'll be all for the time being.

Get ahold of George Bullard.

I want to talk to him right away.

- But, Sir.

(crack)

Oi!

- (laughs) Sometimes I love this job.

Tom, I've had a bit of a breakthrough.

You know I was worried about

those blows to Kingslake's head?

- They were done with two different clubs.

- Yeah, that's right.

- Do you know what sort yet?

- Well, no.

There's something about the injuries

I'm still trying to work out.

- If I may humbly suggest, George.

Take a look at Monkberry here.

Six stab wounds to the
right side of the abdomen.

George, six stab wounds to the right side.

- (laughs) Of course.

Oh damn, damn!

- I don't get it.

- The murderer was left-handed.

- And the first blow to Kingslake's head

was with a left-handed golf club.

- Which means the shade of
the indentation was reversed

and that's what confused me.

- So we're looking for
a left-handed golfer.

- Yeah.

- There can't be that many at Whiteoaks.

- Well, there is one that springs to mind.

- [Will] Oh, and Martin.

- Martin Crisp, he's a lefty.

- Crisp?

- Yeah, remember that impromptu lesson

you had on the 13th fairway?

- [Martin] See, it's my
right arm but your left arm

should be completely straight.

See keep it up, straight as you can.

The reflection is in the wrist.

- See, we've been looking at the gambling

when we should have
been looking at a house.

- The house Crisp's
grandfather lost in a bet.

- Yeah, Pellings.

How much do you think that's worth now?

Two million, three million, more?

How does a hotel manager manage to raise

that kind of money?

- I don't know, but how does killing

Monkberry and Kingslake help?

- Well, they were part of
the membership committee

along with Tully.

Do you remember the meetings
the three of them had?

- They didn't like the fact that Crisp

was considering Claypole for membership.

So?

- I think Martin Crisp
had someone much more

controversial lined up.

Someone the three of
them wouldn't vote for

in a million years.

- So he gets rid of two of them.

That leaves Miles Tully.

And the committee meeting's today.

- We'd better find him.

Thank you, George.

- [George] My pleasure.

- Is everything in order, Mrs. Fountain?

- Oh yes, Mr. Crisp.

Everything is very much in order.

- Just the man.

- Martin, you wanted to see me?

- Yes I thought we might play
a couple of holes together.

There's something I'd like your advice on.

- Well, of course, I'd be delighted.

- Thank you, Mrs. Tully.

Better get a move on.

He's gone to the club to
have a drink with Crisp.

- So Crisp borrows money wherever he can,

he scrimps, he saves, and
finally gets enough money

together to buy Pellings.

But then Tunstall raises the price again.

So there he is still wanting more cash

and who does he turn to?

- Eileen Fountain.

- Eileen Fountain.

But she wants something
in return, doesn't she?

Membership for her beloved Darren.

- Becky, Becky wait a minute.

- What is it?

- I want to talk to you.

It's important.

- I'm late for a lesson with Clyde.

Dad'll kill me if I miss it.

- It won't take long.

Here.

I want to take you out tonight.

I'll have something to celebrate.

- I can't, Darren.

- Tomorrow night, then.

- Sorry darling, but no.

You're a sweet boy,
Darren, you really are.

And we have fun.

I'm not going out with you, okay?

- I'm gonna be a member, Becky.

- What are you talking about?

- A full member, here at the club.

The committee's going to vote me in today.

- Even if that's true,

which I doubt very, very much, sweetheart,

it doesn't make any difference.

- Why not?

- Well you and me,
darling, we're never gonna

be an item, are we, what
with my Dad and everything.

But we can still see each
other here at the club,

can't we, now and then?

(phone chirps)

- What is it, Colin?

- [Colin] Mum wants to
see you in the cooler.

Now.

- Miles, I wanted a word about

the committee meeting this evening.

- What about it?

- Well I wanted to talk about
the candidates for membership.

- You know we're not
supposed to discuss that.

Secret ballot and so on.

- Yes, I know, but this is
somewhat of an emergency.

I need your help.

- If this is about Harry
Claypole, then I'm sorry, Martin.

I can't support him for membership.

- This isn't about Claypole.

You can blackball Claypole by all means.

I'm talking about Darren Fountain.

- Darren.

Darren Fountain, are you serious?

- Completely, everyone on the
committee will approve him.

I was hoping you will as well.

- No way, Martin, absolutely no way.

- Oh dear, I seem to have
pulled it into the rough.

- Ah, Darren, let me buy you a drink.

Big day today.

- Where's Mum?

- Well, she isn't here, sonnyjim.

Come on then, what'll it be?

This may be your last chance.

- No thanks, Harry.

I got a lot on my mind.

- You may not see me in
here again after today.

(thud)

- Colin?

Colin open this door.

(knocking)

I'll tell Mum.

Colin!

- Oh, hello Becky.

- Oh, Clyde.

We're supposed to be having a lesson.

- Sorry, um, touch of food poisoning.

- Hello, Becky.

- I mean, for crying out loud, Martin.

Think about it.

Darren Fountain in the bar, as a member?

Ordering drinks from his mother?

- I'm sorry you see it that way.

I think mine went in over there.

Help me have a look, would you?

- I'm not a snob, absolutely not a snob.

But a place like Whiteoaks,

it's a delicate balance, isn't it?

And we have to preserve
that balance, don't we?

Otherwise what's the point of it

being a club in the first place?

- We've been friends a long time, Miles.

This is very important to me,
so I'm asking you as a favour.

- No can do, Martin,
for Ed and Ally's sake.

Anyway, what's so important about

Darren Fountain becoming a member?

We'll never find it, Martin.

Might as well reload.

- Isn't that it there?

(yells)

(crack)

- Oh, oh, please don't hurt me!

Oh, oh!

- I just want my house back.

(Miles whimpering)

- Let it go, let it go.

(whimpering)

- Still think golf's a boring game, Sir?

Sir.

- Let's have a look.

That's blood, isn't it?

- Yep, look at this.

(phone chirps)

Jones.

Aha, right, okay.

There's a commotion up at the clubhouse.

Something about the Fountains.

- It's high time we
rounded up the Fountains.

- [Policeman] Here, back you come.

Okay.

(chattering from inside)

- Come on, let's go.

C'mon!

- Darren, Darren, where's Colin?

- How would he know?

You don't have to say anything, Darren.

- I saw Colin leave about 10 minutes ago

with Becky Tunstall in the car.

- Becky?

Mum, he's gone to get the money.

- Darren, shut up this minute.

- Mrs. Fountain, would that be the money

you were planning to give to Martin Crisp?

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- Where is Mr. Crisp?

I hope these shenanigans
won't unduly affect

the committee meeting.

- Mr. Claypole, what was that job

you did for Mrs. Fountain?

- New floor and drainage in the pigsty.

And you still owe me six
hundred quid, Eileen.

- It was a bodge.

You're no better than a
cowboy, Harry Claypole.

- Mrs. Fountain, why would
a woman as careful as you

lavish money on a pigsty, I wonder?

- I don't know what you're driving at.

- You said Daddy was here.

- I've got something for you, Becky.

- Colin, you're hurting me.

(pig grunting)

Is it vicious?

- No, long as you don't move.

- Colin, you're starting to freak me out.

- Why do you like Darren more than me?

- Who said I did?

- You do though, don't you?

- You never talk to anyone.

Why should people like you
if you don't talk to them?

And you are a bit scary, Colin.

You're scaring me now, I'm going.

- Oh, wait.

Look.

- God.

- It's for you.

- Me?

- So you'll like me.

- No Colin, that's not the way it works.

Now let me go.

- Wait!

(crash)
(pig squeals)

- All right, it's all right, all right.

Come on, come on.

- [Jones] Hey you!

(pig grunting)

- So all the details were written

in Eileen Fountain's ledger.

- Yes, her bookkeeping was impeccable.

And apart from Tully,
Kingslake and Monkberry,

everyone, every single man
on that membership committee

was in hock to Eileen Fountain.

They would've voted for the pig if asked.

- What about the builder chap, Claypole?

- Oh, Martin Crisp introduced
him to test the water,

see what the reaction would be.

And of course Kingslake and Monkberry,

they were outraged, so he knew

that Darren Fountain
didn't stand a chance.

- So Crisp had to
eliminate the opposition.

- Yeah, Crisp's office had french windows

opened onto the golf course
and he kept a little buggy,

little golf buggy there all the time

so people would get used to
him buzzing around in it.

So he hid the buggy,
got into his tracksuit,

and waited by the periscope.

Now he was due to play a round
of golf with Ed Monkberry.

Monkberry cancelled.

So he had to improvise with a knife.

- Do go and get changed, Tom,
they'll be here any minute.

- There's plenty of time.

Oh God.

- What?

- I forgot my bat.

- You mean your racquet.

Don't worry, here it is.

- Oh thank you, Joyce.

What would I do without you?

- Not a lot.

Oh, here they are.

- You two are cruising
for a bruising today.

- Yep, we're going to run you ragged.

Hey, better get changed, Tom.

We're on in five minutes.

- Absolutely.

Oh!

- Are you all right?

- Yeah, fine, no.

I think I tweaked my hamstring
arresting Martin Crisp.

- Run it off, that's the thing.

- Yes, get on court and run it off.

- Right.

You three, you can start,
without me, please.

Ooh!