All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S14E06 - The Night of the Stag

(hunting horn)

(dogs bark)

(groans)

(dogs bark)

(growling)

(engine revs)

Sir, enjoy.

OK, who's next? Wilby, what do you want? Same again? Pint?

I'm getting thirsty, mate.

Excuse me, gents. Excuse me.

I'm Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

We're making inquiries about Peter Slim. He's gone missing.

Well, now, local revenue man goes missing.

Who would have imagined that, eh?

Anything you can tell us?

Well, put it this way.

If I'd have trousered as much cash

as some of these beggars have,

I'd have disappeared too.

Try the Costa Brava. That's where you'll find him.

That's where all the crooks go.

Up, up. Up, up, up. Come on.

(all) Whoa!

More research, sir.

You've got sweet, I've got rough.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

Mmm, that's good. I needed that.

Just apple juice left to ferment. Nothing added.

- Nature's most natural drink. - What, no yeast?

- How does it ferment? - There's yeast in the air.

It settles in the juice, starts to multiply.

Six months later you've got a vat of cider.

So what's all that about tossing in a dead rat?

Apparently a bit of protein kick-starts the fermentation

if the process doesn't get going.

- Lovely. - Yeah.

- (cheering) - (man) Stand by your beds!

Already got one, mate. Look. Bit slow, aren't you?

This lot look as though they're a law unto themselves.

Ah, honey.

- Like to try some? - Ah, thank you.

Mmm!

That's delicious.

- Do I detect pears? - Pears, yes.

And there's a... a hint of something else.

I can't quite put my finger on it.

- Elderflower. - Mmm.

The bees that made this must have gotten

right over the other side the valley to Midsomer Herne.

Every batch is different.

That's wonderful. I'll take one.

♪ With earth and hell combined could bring

♪ Against the cause we're furthering ♪

- I don't wanna stop. - Come away now.

(girl) I've practised this for ages.

Let us get at him. There's not a moment to lose.

Let us drive the dark one into the light.

What on earth's this?

Go on, push off, Norman, you old soak!

Nutter!

Sing up, now. Sing with confidence.

♪ You ask me why so oft, Father

♪ The tear rolls down my cheek

♪ And think it strange that I should own

♪ A grief I dare not speak

♪ But, O, my soul is very sad

♪ My brain is almost wild...

Repent from intoxicating drink!

It is the devil's vile spit,

his corrupting excretion.

I think he wants you!

♪ Don't be angry now, Father

♪ Because I tell you this

♪ And let me feel...

- This is a madhouse. - Isn't it?

Mr Grigor.

- Mr Grigor. - Reverend Grigor.

Reverend Grigor. We're about to start the Thanksgiving ceremony.

We can't do it while you're singing.

Would you mind asking your followers to stop?

I will not. You call yourself a man of God.

But you sanction this celebration of evil.

You are a hypocrite, no doubt a fornicator to boot.

Tell me, Norman, if the other is so wrong,

how come you've got six children of your own?

Six we know of, that is.

I can assure you, Samuel Quested,

that I made those children to glorify the Lord.

The act itself gave me no pleasure.

I'm sure your wife would say the same.

You are a mocker and a scoffer, Chloe Baker,

and you will pay a price for that.

- Oh... - Let's make a start, shall we?

It's all right. Aw! Nasty man.

That's Anthony Devereux. This is his mill.

Locals call him The French. He's considered an outsider.

His family have only been living here

since the Norman Conquest.

(reverend) Ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome, one and all, to the Midsomer Abbas May Fair,

when we celebrate the coming of summer

and the very special relationship

between Midsomer Abbas and Midsomer Herne.

The aldermen of these two villages

are now going to join me to exchange a symbolic gift.

(applause)

In the spring of 1370,

a terrible frost struck the valley of Midsomer Abbas.

Our trees produced no fruit,

and by Christmas people were starving.

But over the hill, in the valley of Midsomer Herne,

the frost had not struck so savage.

When our neighbours heard of the famine,

they gathered what food they could spare

and carried it over the hill to us.

We are truly grateful to our neighbours

and I am once again honoured to present them with a gift,

a box of our finest apples.

(cheering)

Thank you very much, Samuel. You're most welcome.

Marvellous, a simple act of Christian charity,

and 700 years later it's still remembered.

Isn't that a lesson for us all?

(cheering)

Go on!

You've been doing a good job behind the bar there, Alice.

If you ever want a shift in the Apple Tree, you let me know.

I've got two jobs already. Why would I need another?

- All right, me duck? - Will Green's a dirty old man.

- You take no notice. - Pint of rough, please, Alice.

You all right, sir?

I'm not sure this agrees with me.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the highlight of the fair,

the Horn Dance!

(music plays)

Whoever at the calends of January

goes about in the form of a stag,

that is changing himself into the form of an animal,

dressing in the skin of a horned beast

and putting on the head of a beast,

who in suchwise transform themselves

into the appearance of a wild animal,

penance for three years,

because it is devilish!

French! Your barrel's bad!

- What? - The sweet, it's ratted.

- Shut up, man. - Don't drink the sweet!

- It's bad. - Nothing wrong with it.

You all right, sir?

Do I look all right?

I don't know what he's talking about.

Let's have a look. Get me a torch.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Don't say a word to anyone.

Please.

Drowned in a butt of malmsey wine.

I've seen plenty of bodies filled with alcohol,

but this will be the first to be pickled in it.

I'll have the vat drained,

see if there's anything at the bottom.

He could've been helping himself and fallen in.

He took a nasty blow to the forehead.

He's got a broken neck too.

(belches)

You all right?

An upset stomach. I drank some of the cider and threw up.

Well, try to vomit again if you can.

Better an empty house than a bad tenant.

Is that what passes for medical advice?

Speak to the owner.

Find out who has access to the warehouse at night.

Yes, sir.

My God, what have I done?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby, Causton CID.

- Hello, Inspector. - The young lady seemed upset.

Well, we all are. This is an absolutely terrible business.

- Did you know Peter Slim? - Yes.

When was the last time you spoke to him?

A few days ago.

Did he seem worried about anything?

I wouldn't know about that.

But I can tell you Mr Grigor was right about one thing.

The village is awash with illicit alcohol,

in particular a local hooch known as the Beast.

The victim was attempting

to track down the source of it, we believe.

Any ideas who's running the still?

No.

The woman you were comforting, what's her name?

Esme Baker.

I'll be in touch.

Sir. The owner didn't hear anything.

- He was around? - No.

Says he locked up and went out.

Sir.

We'll need a timeline up to the moment Slim disappeared.

Well, that won't be easy. Apparently he worked on his own.

It's pretty remote out here and he used his car as his office.

Then finding that is a priority.

It didn't have a tracking device fitted?

No, but I've got the phone company pulling the records

and I've asked them to triangulate the spot

from where he made his last call.

(phone rings)

Jones.

John. Oh, how are you feeling?

I've felt better. Cause of death?

I've never seen anything like it before.

I'm assuming he didn't drown.

It's unlikely. I don't expect to find any cider in his lungs.

He was dead before he entered the vat.

The cut to his head?

Enough to stun him, but not fatal.

No, I think cause of death was the broken neck.

Is that so unusual?

I think it's broken in several places.

I've seen similar injuries on babies that have been shaken

but never in an adult before.

- Shaken? - Violently, from side to side.

It's as if he's been tossed about by a giant.

A medium-sized giant? A big giant?

Well, um... I'd say 40 foot, maybe more.

Jones, I want a list of all the local giants.

- 40 feet and over. - Righto, sir.

The last call Slim made was 9:47.

Less than an hour before his watch was smashed.

Yes, to a local number, the Midsomer Herne kennels.

The owner's called Chloe Baker.

- Chloe Baker? - Yes.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.

This is Detective Sergeant Jones.

We're investigating the murder of Peter Slim.

A terrible business.

I believe you received a call from Peter Slim Thursday night.

I didn't talk to him. That'll be my daughter, Esme.

Esme!

- So why did he call? - About the VAT inspection.

He'd found a few mistakes in our records.

We've got a letter if you'd like to see it.

No. He called you quite late in the evening to talk about VAT.

Yes...

We've been through Peter's phone records, Esme.

You two talked quite regularly, didn't you?

It was about VAT, that's all.

At the cider fair, I saw Reverend Walker comforting you.

You looked very upset.

When someone you know is found murdered,

what sort of person wouldn't be upset?

Who said anything about murder?

You think he fell in that vat?

Any idea who might have put him there?

No.

OK.

Thank you for your help.

(running footsteps)

(door closes, retching)

All right, Sykesy.

Gosh, hasn't he fed you yet?

Oh, God. You look awful. Did you get drunk?

I had half a pint of cider

from a vat that had a dead body floating in it.

- A body? - The missing revenue man.

- Have you seen a doctor? - Kate Wilding looked me over.

Oh, really? I'm sure she gave you a thorough check-up.

- All right, Sykesy? - (barks)

Would you mind?

People in that valley really are a problem.

What do you mean?

If half their children turn up for school, it's unusual.

- They play truant? - Yeah. It's the parents.

They don't see the point in an education

because the children all end up working in the orchards anyway.

Perhaps they all end up working in the orchards

because they've got no education.

Well, exactly. Some of them are really bright too.

But it's a tight-knit community and...

Yes, so tight they all clam up when a tax inspector

turns up in a cider vat with a broken neck.

Excuse me.

(Jones) Morning, sir.

Get the feeling we're not wanted?

So what have we got?

I've been through Slim's computer.

- Anything useful? - Couple of things.

He'd taken an interest in a barn in the woods nearby.

There, at the top of the valley.

- Take a look. - There's some emails too.

Who from?

Someone with the codename Goldcrest.

Slim had arranged to meet them the night he died.

- Where? - Message doesn't say.

Better find out who Goldcrest is.

Where will you be?

Getting the buzz...

from the local beekeeper.

Found you.

Byron Street?

Yes.

Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby.

- You sold me some honey. - I did.

- Is it safe to come over? - Yes.

But stay clear of the hive at the end.

The queen, she's a nasty piece of work, very aggressive.

The workers pick it up from her.

The queen affects the behaviour of all the bees?

A hive acts like a single being.

I'm gonna have to find her and kill her

and replace her with a more docile ruler.

Fascinating.

Tell me, Mr Street, were you at home on Thursday night?

I'm always at home.

And did you hear anything unusual that night?

Cries? Voices?

Thursday night was pandemonium.

How do you mean?

Frost alarms going off left, right and centre.

They started about 9pm and by half past

every able-bodied man was laying down smudge.

- Smudge? What's that? - Smoke.

Uh, the frost rolls down the sides of the hill.

So we have to light what are called smudge pots. Oil burners.

The smoke forms a blanket,

stops the frost from settling on the blossom.

If the blossom gets damaged, the trees don't produce apples.

You have to be quick, mind.

Thursday night I was the first out.

How come?

The bees know when the frost is coming.

They get back to the hive sharp.

Of course. I saw you in the village this morning.

You seemed to be keeping your distance.

I prefer my own company.

I can understand that.

Is there anything you can tell me

that might relate to the death of Peter Slim?

I've told you enough for one day, Inspector.

Now, I suggest you make yourself scarce,

because I'm resolved to kill that queen

and it could get lively round here.

I'll take your advice, for now.

But I'll need to talk to you again.

(phone rings)

Yes, Jones?

Good.

This way, sir.

(Barnaby) Good work.

We'll stake the place out,

find out who else is involved,

and with any luck...

(singing)

What's this?

♪ ...combined could bring

♪ Against the cause we're furthering ♪

(woman) Come on, quick. Quick, quick, quick. Come on.

Behold the Beast!

- Take him down! - (yelling)

- No. Come on! - (Grigor) Hold on. Hold on.

Do not let him get up!

Soon he'll be exhausted and will succumb. Hold on.

Get off me, you madman! Get off!

Stop! Get off him now!

You're a bit late, Officer.

We're making a citizen's arrest.

You are endangering these children.

The Lord protects his own.

All of you, get off him!

♪ The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl

♪ Is not the drink for me

♪ It kills his body and his soul

♪ How sad a sight is he

♪ The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl

♪ Is not the drink for me

♪ It kills his body and his soul

- ♪ How sad a sight is he - Ugh!

♪ But there's a drink which God hath given distilled in the...

Silas Trout, I'm arresting you

for distilling alcohol without a licence.

- ♪ Oh... - And on suspicion of murder.

♪ That's the drink for me Oh, that's the drink ♪

You know the maximum penalty for illicit distilling?

It's five years.

Motivation enough to kill a customs officer.

It seems Slim had his neck broken in several places.

How many men would have the strength

to cause that sort of injury?

It's nothing to do with me.

Where were you Thursday night?

I was with my trees, laying smudge.

- There was a frost. - I know about the frost.

Did anyone see you there?

Badger came by.

Thank you.

- Can I go now? - I'm afraid not.

You're going to be held at Causton police station.

The circumstantial evidence against him is very strong.

He's got no alibi. Are we gonna charge him with murder?

Not yet.

These are the other calls Slim received the night he died.

Why was he talking to the Reverend Grigor?

(singing)

♪ The pledge, the pledge, the glorious ark

♪ Which sheltered anxious multitudes...

He is triumphant! The dark one is vanquished.

Prepare ye the way of the Lord, for he shall come again.

He shall come again!

♪ And whelming man

♪ In black despair

Enough, my children.

You may leave us now while I talk to the inspector

about the devil's work.

Now, gentlemen, how may I help you to do God's work?

Why did you call Peter Slim?

To report Silas Trout's wrongdoing.

My followers and I had been

keeping an eye on him for some time.

When we found his lair, naturally my first instinct

was to report it to the appropriate authorities.

And what did Slim say?

He told me to mind my own business.

Really? Might that have been

because he already had the barn under surveillance

with the intention of uncovering Silas Trout's network?

Oh, he had a plan, did he, a grand plan?

Well, while he was planning, the devil was crouched there,

spurting and spitting out his vile ejaculate.

Poisoning the world one drop at a time.

Drip, drip, drip.

Tell me, have you had difficulties

with alcohol in the past?

Why do you say that?

It would explain your zeal.

That was a long time ago.

Tell me about it. Were you fond of the Beast?

Fond is not the word.

The Beast had me in his thrall. I was powerless to resist him.

So I took myself out onto the high ground

one night in winter.

There was a freezing blizzard

blowing from the north.

But I stripped off and stood there,

screaming, begging for the Lord to take me.

When I awoke the following morning,

the warm sun was on my face.

I wasn't dead.

There was a man standing there

and he spoke to me in a voice so soft.

He said, "Norman, go and do my will."

Do you understand? I have been chosen.

(phone rings)

Jones.

Really? Hang on.

The phone company have picked up a signal from Slim's phone.

- They've got it triangulated. - Get a grid reference.

We're gonna need a grid reference. Yeah.

It's his car.

Blood here, sir.

What have we got here?

There's a stick here with blood on it as well.

Looks like prints in the blood.

Well, if they belong to Silas Trout, we've got our man.

Have forensics take a look.

Can't find his phone, though.

Ring it.

(dials number)

(phone rings)

He was attacked and tried to escape.

Photocopies of bank statements.

Swiss account.

So he threw the satchel away as they were closing in on him.

Sir.

Looks like they had dogs with them.

(tractor engine)

We have company.

Look what we've got here.

- Can I help you? - Do you remember me?

- I'm Detective... - I know who you are.

Could you tell me what that is?

That's a tree shaker

for harvesting the apples.

Could you show me how it works, please?

Here, Rob, show the man how it works.

OK.

Watch this.

- (engine starts) - Move back there now.

Come on, Rob. Go on.

Well, they asked.

I reckon that's blood, sir.

Slim's injuries are consistent

with being shaken by such a device.

- Kate Wilding was right. - Our murder weapon.

What a way to die.

What's going on? What are you doing on my land?

Stay there, sir. I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

This is now a crime scene.

What on earth are you talking about?

Go to the mill.

We'll be up to talk to you shortly, Mr Devereux.

Are you all right, Mr Devereux?

What?

Yes, I'm fine.

Look, why don't you take the afternoon off?

- Why? - Because I want you to.

OK.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

(indistinct conversation)

- Everything all right? - Got the day off.

French is in a panic. I think he's planning to do a runner.

After what he's done, I'm not surprised.

What's troubling you, me duck?

I don't want no more part in all this.

It's nothing to do with me. All the upset with Esme.

Come on, me duck.

It'll be all right.

Living here, we're the luckiest people on earth.

We're special.

You know that.

And soon... things are gonna get even better for us.

You mark my words.

Inspector.

Ah, hello.

I didn't realise this is where the horns are kept.

Yes, they've been hanging on these walls

since the church was built nearly 700 years ago.

Isn't the Horn Dance some kind of pagan rite?

It was part of a celebration known as Beltane,

but the early Christians were pragmatists.

They knew the locals weren't gonna give it up,

so they Christianised it.

Today we call it Easter.

Fascinating.

Has the Horn Dance changed at all?

As performed today,

it's a vestigial and respectable version

of what was once a very savage rite.

- It was violent? - Very.

Local men would fight with horns to assert their dominance.

- When did it become a dance? - Some time in the 1880s.

Did you see the man who just left?

The beekeeper.

He can remember the old men talking about it

when he was a lad.

The Reverend Grigor, he was ranting on.

Something to do with putting on the skin of an animal.

"Whoever at the calends..." that's the 1st of January,

"...goes about in the form of a stag..." et cetera, et cetera.

It's a papal edict that was issued in 669.

Grigor's very fond of it.

You don't seem to hold him in the highest esteem.

- The Pope? - The Reverend Grigor.

Temperance cannot be imposed upon people.

They have to want it.

Tell me, when Peter Slim's body was found,

why did you say, "My God, what have I done?"?

I have confidences to keep, Inspector.

No doubt, but if you don't reveal what you know to me now

and someone else is murdered as a result,

how will that make you feel?

Think about that.

We'll talk again.

Now, this is it. You follow the scent, OK?

OK.

Right.

That's it. Now, go on, follow the scent. Go on.

- (barking) - No. Get the sock.

Get the sock.

Good boy.

Come on. Now, go on, get the sock.

Good boy. You...

What happened to you last night?

I fell asleep on the sofa.

I had a word with the truancy officer yesterday.

He told me something you might find quite interesting.

Yeah?

He has trouble all year round

with Midsomer Abbas and Midsomer Herne.

But there's one period each year

when none of the children turn up for school.

When is that?

Between the 1st and 4th of May.

Well, the 1st is the cider fair.

So, what's the excuse for the other three days?

I'll try and find out for you.

See you later.

(sighs)

I'll get the sock.

Jones.

- Morning, sir. - What have you got?

Documents from Slim's briefcase.

Significant sums being deposited at a bank in Geneva.

- Who controls the account? - Well, it's a numbered account.

Numbered, as in we can't see the identity of the account holder?

Exactly.

You'd better find out who that person is.

How?

Lateral thinking, Jones.

Let me know.

- All right, Will? - Hello, Samuel. Usual?

Oh, yeah.

How's business?

Terrible since the trouble.

It's the same over my way.

No one's in the mood for drinking.

We need to lift people's spirits, don't we?

Draw them together, have some fun. Cheers.

Good idea. Maybe we should have a barn dance.

I was thinking of something more rooted in our tradition.

You must be joking, Samuel.

There hasn't been a stag for 60 year.

Then it's time there was.

We can't let the rite die out.

A few more years, no one will even remember it.

I'm not so sure.

I could arrange it so you'd receive

a very warm welcome at my pub, Will.

What would you say to that?

Samuel Quested.

What you doing on this side of the hill?

We think it's time for a stag.

A stag?

Oh! A stag.

- Good idea. - Then it's settled.

You sort things out your end, Will.

Beltane is Friday night.

And, Chloe... mind you leave your door open.

Don't you worry about that.

What is it that's going on here, Byron?

- Why was Peter Slim killed? - He was a revenue man.

You don't think that had something to do with it?

There have always been revenue men.

None of the others have been murdered, not recently anyway.

I have the feeling

that there is more to the murder of Peter Slim

than a bit of illicit distilling.

I'm right, aren't I?

Look, I don't condone what happened.

But I'm an old man

and I want to live out my remaining days in peace.

So I won't be pointing the finger.

Is someone threatening you?

This is my home. It's all I have.

Who killed Peter Slim?

If you want to know who did it...

...ask the trees.

- I've cracked it. - The murder?

No, the Swiss bank, the identity of the account holder.

- Excellent. - Thank you.

Devereux has been done for drink driving, banned.

So I talked to the cab company.

On every day a deposit was made in Geneva

over the last two years,

Devereux took a cab to Heathrow Airport.

- Lateral thinking. - Well done, Jones.

The question is, where is he getting the money from?

Are you a fishing man, Mr Devereux?

- Yes. - Did you catch that?

Yes, on the Findhorn in Scotland two years ago.

- Nearly 19lbs. - That is a big fish.

Why do you fly to Geneva every month?

- To ski. - In June?

Have you heard of drawback fraud? It's pretty simple.

You export your alcohol to a country where the duty's low,

somewhere like France,

you leave it in a bonded warehouse for a day or two

and then re-import it back into the UK,

where the duty is high, and sell it on.

The difference between the two rates, you pocket,

or in your case, you hide it in a Swiss bank account.

- I have no idea... - Peter Slim's file on you.

- He had you bang to rights. - That's why you killed him.

- I didn't kill him! - But you admit the fraud?

My family have owned this land for hundreds of years.

The mill started losing money in the '90s.

I was faced with some stark choices.

Well, the thought of losing this place... the shame...

So you started supporting the business by fraud.

The revenue were the thieves, not me.

Where were you on the night of Peter Slim's murder?

Look, I'm a chronic alcoholic! Can't you see?

All I can remember is taking a taxi down to the village.

My mind's a blank after that.

- Arrest him. - On which charge, sir?

Both. Fraud and murder.

Take him in, then call out the SOCO team.

I want this place searched from top to bottom.

And make sure that forensics check his fingerprints

against the prints we found on the wading staff.

Wading staff?

The big stick we found next to Peter Slim's car.

Fly fishermen use them to keep their balance

when they are wading in fast-flowing rivers.

I'm just off for a stroll. I won't be long.

Anthony Devereux,

I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder and fraud.

You do not have to say anything...

(sniffs)

He's been at this for years. There's millions involved.

That's more than enough motive to kill Slim.

True, but he's a wreck.

How could he have pursued a fit man like Peter Slim

through rough country for over a mile?

You've changed your tune, sir.

- You don't think he killed him? - I doubt it.

So why do we arrest him for murder?

If he didn't do it himself,

he probably has a fair idea who did.

He might crack. Call Revenue & Customs.

They can investigate the fraud allegation.

And charge Silas Trout with the distilling offence

and then release him.

His alibi checks out.

What alibi?

A perfect blossom, undamaged by frost.

Trout says he was out laying smudge that night.

This proves he's telling the truth.

Please, get me a drink. I beg you.

Somebody get me a bloody drink.

The Beast! I need the Beast!

Somebody get me a bloody drink!

- (knocking) - Come in.

Ah, Prudence, I'm just finishing my sermon.

Should I ask my father to ring the bell for evening worship?

Yes, thank you.

What are you doing here?

You grassed me up to the revenue, Norman.

Now, in this valley, that's worse than a sin.

I want you to confess.

I want you to ask the Lord for forgiveness

for what you did to me.

I did the bidding of the Lord.

Really?

Go on, then, Norman.

Show God how much stronger he's made you over the Beast.

I will not be tested by you.

Oh, come on, Norman, surely you're not afraid

of a little glass of fermented apple juice.

You see?

Beside the Lord, he's nothing.

First and greatest sin is pride, Norman.

Pride.

(church bell rings)

The bell tolls.

I've just spoken to forensics.

The fingerprints on the wading staff match Devereux's.

Really?

OK, how about this?

Devereux discovered he was being investigated.

Slim had arranged to meet his informant Goldcrest,

but Devereux and his accomplices

followed him into the woods, attacked him.

Slim was dazed.

Even a wreck like Devereux could keep up with him.

And it was Devereux's tractor that shook him to death.

My impression is that the motivation for the crime

is altogether... more complex.

We need to find out who Goldcrest is.

- Have a think about it. - Uh-huh.

That'll do.

Did you speak to the Reverend Father?

Yes. And he told me to carry on with my duties.

All right. Let's begin.

♪ Stop, sinners

♪ Stop and think

♪ Before you further go

♪ Will you sport upon the brink

♪ Of everlasting woe?

Hi.

I thought you'd finished looking round.

Oh, we have. Don't worry.

Could you make a quick copy of that for me, please?

- Of course. - Thanks.

Thank you.

Who uses the photocopier?

Mr Devereux sometimes, but me mostly.

I see.

Goldcrest. Does the name mean anything to you?

No, nothing.

That's not the truth, is it, Alice?

♪ Will oppose

♪ Fear you not that iron rod

♪ With which he breaks his foes ♪

Did Peter Slim ask you to copy Devereux's bank statements?

He wanted proof.

Of what?

That Devereux was cheating on the duty.

But Devereux was your employer.

Didn't you feel any loyalty to him?

There's people's jobs at risk. Someone had to stop him.

Of course. You did the right thing.

The meeting with Peter Slim in the woods, what happened?

I arrived,

gave him the copies of the Swiss bank statements

like we'd agreed.

- Did you see anyone else there? - No.

- Mr Devereux didn't follow you? - No. I don't know.

I just gave Peter the statements.

That's all I know.

Don't know nothing about who killed him, I swear it.

What they did to him was terrible. Poor Esme.

You're friends with Esme Baker?

Well, yeah.

Was Esme having a relationship with Peter Slim?

I've told you more than I should have. Now I want to go home.

(knocking)

Reverend Grigor?

Reverend Grigor?

Reverend Father.

- Reverend Father? - Come here, my child.

Oh, my Lord!

No! No, please!

- Come... Come here! - Help!

- Child! - He's gone mad!

- Child! I am the Beast! - Help! The Beast!

He's been drinking the Beast! He's gone mad!

I'll see you in hell!

I'll see you in hell! I'll see you in hell!

(barking)

Is there somewhere private we can talk?

This is as private as it gets around here.

OK.

Esme, you spoke to Peter Slim on the phone

practically every day for the past six months.

So?

So if it was no big deal,

why did you keep it a secret?

He was a revenue man.

Do you know what that means around here?

No one can bring Peter back, so, please, leave me in peace.

Is that what you really want, Esme,

for the guilty men to walk free?

The men who pursued Peter through the fields with dogs,

before crushing him in an apple harvester

and shaking him to death?

Stop.

I think you know who killed Peter,

but you're too afraid to say.

Please leave me alone.

Esme Baker and Peter Slim were married here three weeks ago,

by you.

- In secret, I take it? - Not strictly legal.

But they were married in the sight of God.

Those whom God has joined together,

let no man put asunder.

(Barnaby) And Alice Quested was the only witness.

It was a very brave thing to do.

Local girls are expected to marry locally.

But Peter and Esme were very much in love.

You supported them?

I was a fool.

A complete fool.

Peter Slim is dead and Esme Baker's life is ruined.

Sam, thank God.

- How are you? - Terrible. Terrible.

This place is full of maniacs.

They howl like animals all night. They threaten me by day.

I haven't had a wink of sleep.

This is the longest I've been without a drink

since I was 12 years old.

My head is pounding.

Don't you worry. You'll be out of here soon enough.

How? Someone's stitched me up.

- Don't you worry about a thing. - Eh?

Because you've got a cast-iron alibi.

This is an affidavit, signed by 12 people,

stating that on the night of the murder

you were slumped in the snug of my pub all evening.

You drunken old soak. You're in the clear.

Oh, my God.

Devereux's solicitor is saying

the signatories are of impeccable character.

He wants the murder charge dropped immediately.

Fine.

- You agree? - Yeah.

We'll drop the murder charge.

Thank you. This is just what I need.

(knocking)

- My dad's out. - It's you I want to talk to.

I'm saying nothing.

Have you seen this before?

I can't bear all this.

I want to help you, Alice, and I want to help your friend, Esme,

but I can only do that if you will help me.

I know that Esme and Peter Slim were married.

And I know that you have seen this before.

It hangs on the wall of Mr Devereux's office.

I want to know if you saw it

on the night of Peter Slim's murder.

I can't do that.

It was used to beat Esme's husband nearly to death,

and I believe you must have seen it on the night that he died.

I can't.

I think you saw it in this bar.

And I think you saw someone put it into Mr Devereux's hands

as he lay unconscious in the corner here.

(door opens)

Afternoon, gents.

You all right, me duck? You look a bit peaky.

Best get yourself upstairs, take a nap, eh?

Now, what can I get you, gents?

We'll be on our way.

Oh.

- All right? - All right?

- What did they want? - Don't you worry about it.

Right, you boys better have a few glasses of this.

Oh!

Because tonight's the night.

(both) Hey!

One at a time, one at a time.

Hey, the custody sergeant just called.

They've got the Reverend Grigor locked up.

- He was arrested last night. - What for?

Drunk and disorderly, and assault.

He went on a rampage in the chapel.

One of his followers called the police.

He may be a drunk, but he didn't kill Peter Slim.

I spoke to the trees.

Frost-damaged apple blossom.

The owner of the tree that came from

didn't lay down any smudge on the night of the frost.

Possibly because he was busy murdering Peter Slim

on Devereux's land.

- You going out? - Won't be long.

I want you to make yourself scarce.

I've got a visitor coming.

Is that why you're dressed like a tart?

Go on, clear off.

(rowdy laughter)

♪ Wassail, wassail All over the town

♪ Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown

♪ Our bowl is made of the white maple tree

♪ With wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee ♪

Come on, girl, hurry up!

Evening, Vicar. What'll it be?

I know what's going on, Samuel.

Either you call it off or I call the police.

You've got your ways, Vicar, and we've got ours.

Honey on your toast, Sykesy?

Did you know that when the queen bee goes on her maiden flight,

the workers slim her down

so that she'll be able to fly far enough away

to avoid mating with drones from her own hive?

That way the gene pool is refreshed.

Yeah, like the locals used to do.

I'm sorry?

Well, in remote areas where the roads were bad,

villages could easily become inbred, with dire consequences.

So on one night each year, the men from one village

would head through the woods

and couple with women from the next village, and vice versa.

That way the gene pool was constantly refreshed.

It's the origin of the expression stag night.

What?

This ritual, when does it take place?

- Beltane. The 4th of May. - (phone rings)

Which... is tonight.

Barnaby.

I think you should know,

there's trouble in the village.

It's getting very ugly.

I know about the stag.

- Where are you? - In the church.

Stay where you are. I'm on my way.

The night of Beltane has come.

It's time to follow me over the hill to Midsomer Herne.

Men of Midsomer Abbas, happy hunting!

(cheering)

Are you sure about this, Will? I don't want no trouble.

It's Samuel Quested's idea.

Don't worry. It's all sorted out their end.

But my wife...

Married to you,

I'm sure she'll be thrilled.

You need to get yourself manned up a bit, Jonathan Oak.

Go, go, go! Whoa!

(cheering)

Go on, then, Alice. Nothing to worry about.

Don't do this, Dad. Please.

Go to your room.

Do as I say... now.

(rowdy chatter)

You'll be no use when you get there.

You're not gonna be running anywhere.

- Come on, now! - (retches)

This ain't such a good idea, Will.

The stag, it's from a different age.

We can't just go down there

and have our way with who we like.

We can't let the rite die out!

To hell with it.

No one's touching my wife.

I'm going home.

You gutless wimps!

Hello? Reverend Walker?

Try the vestry.

Reverend Walker? Chief Inspector Barnaby. Hello?

Not in the vestry.

Sir.

Call for armed backup. Get Wilding and forensics here.

We've got to get to Midsomer Herne.

Hello? You're breaking up. Hold on a minute.

- What now? - We do what the locals do.

We go over the hill on foot. Now.

Can't get a signal round here.

(cheering)

What's wrong?

It's just me. They've all gone home.

We should call it off, Samuel.

There'll be trouble if you go down there.

Too bad.

There's a welcome waiting for you over there, Will.

Go on!

- (man) Go on, Will! - Come on, boys!

♪ Wassail, wassail All over the town

♪ Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown... ♪

(barking)

Shut up!

I told you I had a visitor. Go on up to your room.

Fine. I'm going to bed.

Sam Quested somehow discovered

that Peter Slim and Esme Baker were married.

- But why kill him? - Power.

A local girl marrying an outsider

threatened the old order.

Quested had to assert his authority over the valley.

It's a cult basic.

You control the women and the men will follow.

Yeah, but why would he frame Devereux

and then provide him with a false alibi?

To get his hands on the mill.

♪ With the wassailing bowl we'll drink to thee

♪ Wassail, wassail All over the town

- Right, gentlemen... - ♪ Our toast it is white...

All right, lads!

Go do your bidding!

(cheering)

(woman) This is what we've been waiting for!

Open the door, Nancy!

Old Smudgie's here.

Evening, Smudgepot.

Ha-ha!

- Hey! - (groans)

(front door slams)

Alice?

It's Will Green. Don't be afraid.

Not gonna hurt you.

Alice.

Alice.

Pervert!

- Alice! - Go to hell!

(Jones) As quickly as you can. We'll be there soon.

Right. Armed response on the way.

Uniform on their way to the village, sir.

Good. Come on.

(siren wails)

Samuel Quested.

You animal.

Where are you going?

You think it's you I've come for?

- (yells) - Quiet, woman!

No! You bastard!

(barking)

(Chloe yells)

Esme! Esme! It's your mum! Wake up!

Esme!

- All right, me duck? - Touch me and I'll kill you.

Thought you could turn your back on your own people, huh?

You little whore.

- (Esme screams) - Come here. Come here!

- Come here! - No!

- Come here! - Get off me!

(barking)

(screaming)

Esme!

You bastard, Sam Quested! Let me in!

- Let me in! - Jones.

Right, Jones! Get off her!

What are you doing? What are you doing to me?

Fat pig!

Samuel Quested, you're under arrest

for the murders of Peter Slim and Conrad Walker.

You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence

if you fail to mention when questioned

something which you later rely on in court.

Let me go! If you know what's good for you, let me go!

Lads! Lads! Help me!

Come on! Help me! Come on!

Keep moving. Keep moving!

- Stay back. - Let him be, copper.

- Stay back. - I'm warning you.

And I'm warning you, stay back.

No, you don't.

(gunshot)

Gonna kill a copper now, are you, boy?

You think that's the right thing to do?

- Murderer! - Quiet now, girl.

Leave her, Quested, or I'll shoot you down

like the mad dog you are.

Go on, then, old man. Have a bang.

Go on, Smudgie, finish 'em off.

We'll bury them deep with a cow on their heads!

(sirens wail)

You got anything to say before I pop you, copper?

These are your people, Samuel.

Why don't you tell them what this is really about?

Oh, this is about land all right,

but Samuel isn't telling you the whole story.

The truth is that he has blackmailed Anthony Devereux

into making the mill over to him.

(man) What?

You own most of this valley now, don't you, Samuel?

I own the pub and four acres.

- That's a lie. - You be quiet now, girl.

The copper's telling the truth.

My father had me spy on the French.

Then he framed him up and made him sign the land over.

You drunken old soak. You're in the clear.

How can I thank you?

There is something I wanted to ask you about, Anthony.

Anything.

I know the mill is running at a loss.

And I was thinking that maybe what you needed was a partner.

Next harvest you'll be selling your apples to my father.

That's what this is about, isn't it, Samuel?

- Is this true? - No!

- Go on, finish it, Smudgie. - On your knees, copper.

We don't want no more shootings here.

You're a thief and a murderer, Samuel Quested.

You're nothing more than a common criminal.

Your community has been stained by two murders.

Are you gonna let this man add further to the score?

Give me the gun.

Give it to him, Smudgie.

You haven't got a case against me, copper.

The French left his fingerprints on the murder weapon

in the victim's blood.

You pressed the wading staff into Devereux's hand

as he lay dead drunk in your bar, didn't you?

Got a witness?

- I saw him do it. - You shut your mouth, girl!

- I saw him. - Shut up!

And I heard him send Smudgepot and Wilberforce

to murder the vicar.

My father is a murderer!

You murdered Peter Slim with the apple harvester, didn't you?

A fitting end for a revenue man...

...to be given a little shake.

And when Reverend Walker threatened to talk,

you murdered him too.

You've got your ways, Vicar, and we've got ours.

Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?

In the name of Christ... stop!

- He never did understand us. - (siren wails)

Come on, Smudgie.

Take him. Take him. You two, him.

You're an evil man, Quested.

You won't be seeing this valley again for a very long time.

Even in prison, I'll still be master of the stag.

The village, they won't forget me.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Take him away.