Original subtitles

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Take him back for me, will you? Yeah, sure.

I want to catch Alex.

Are you away? Yeah, the committee meets at eight.

I'll be back tomorrow. Are you OK?

Yes, fine.

Drive carefully.

I love you.

He's got some heat in his near foreleg.

Nah, he was stepping out sweetly.

He's not feeling it. He could win the Open with a decent jockey up.

Like you, you mean?

Yeah. I qualified him.

Alison's no blooming idea.

Couldn't kick a donkey home.

SMASHING GLASS

BANGING

Uh!

If you're watching...

If anyone saw her or... or knows where she is...

CLICKING CAMERA SHUTTERS

Please, just call and tell us that she's all right.

Whoever's holding my wife,

please, just call.

PHONE RINGS

Crocodile tears, ma'am? Convinced me at the time.

What do you know about him?

Alex Keir, 45, runs a stable yard.

A spent drunk-driving charge a couple of years back, apart from that he's clean.

The wife?

Alison Keir, missing a couple of days before the local boys bought us in.

35. Otherwise unknown to us.

Oh, and her car's disappeared, too.

All right. Anything else?

Yeah, Potter's chasing up the woman's medical background

to see if there's any psycho problems.

That's worth a look. But it doesn't strike me she's gone walkabout.

No, sir. I've got this nasty feeling

we're going to find her tied up in a ditch somewhere.

Ever the optimist, Dixon.

Morning. Morning.

Have you booked a ride?

No, no, it would be cruelty to animals if I sat on a horse.

Detective Inspector Kersey. CID.

Penryn. Dave Penryn.

So, have you found her then? Mrs Keir?

I take it you work here, do you, Mr Penryn?

Yup. Dogsbody.

I'm officially the gardener, but I ride out.

School the chasers. Get them shipshape.

Race horses, are they?

Some are, some aren't. This will never make anything.

Walking tin of dog food, he is. Jumps like a crab.

So how long have you known the Keirs?

Since they first came down here.

The governor bought the place off my father.

Ran it into the ground. Are they good people to work for?

There's worse jobs. Don't get too close to his back end. He cow kicks.

Cheers. Hold the doors, will you?

Who's the... Who's the young lady?

Diana. Is that the Keirs' daughter?

You might think so, the way she goes on.

She's just a stable hand. Mucking out, that sort of thing.

Mrs Keir took her in a couple of years back.

How do you mean took her in?

She's one of them female horse nuts.

She started hanging about the place, working voluntarily.

Spun some sob story about her parents being dead.

So in the end, Alison gave her a job.

Do you know, are there any problems between them that you're aware of?

Who? Mr and Mrs Keir.

I wouldn't know.

They don't move in my circles, do they?

However,

married couple, middle aged, no kids.

It speaks for itself, doesn't it?

Why do they call it point-to-point racing?

The circuit that the horses jump around, from one point to another. All amateur riders.

I see. So you spent that night in a hotel?

Yes, I gave your local chaps the details.

How long have you had the stables?

Been here about eight years.

We were up north.

Alison adores horses. She lives and breathes for them.

(SOBS)

I'm sorry. I appreciate this must be very difficult for you.

Um... How did your wife seem when you left her?

She was fine. She was looking forward to the Hunt Open.

She was going to ride our horse Greek Warrior in the race.

Has she ever gone missing before? No, never.

She's not wandered off for a few days or...?

Friends, relatives, she might have spent time with. Absolutely not.

She would have told me if she was planning a trip.

She wouldn't just go off without telling.

Oh, sorry. Is it all right if I work down in the office now?

Yes, it's been checked.

I need a list of anyone, everyone you can think of

who your wife might try and contact.

Yes, I'll do that.

Oh, God, superintendent, what's happened to her?!

I don't know, Mr Keir.

She was so happy. She was so happy here.

We'll do everything we can to find her, Mr Keir. I promise you.

Help!

Help!

All right? Anything down the stables?

Well, there's a chap, Penryn, who's a stable hand.

He lives over in the cottage at the back there.

He says he heard nothing that night.

He's definitely worth a closer look. Yeah.

So what do you reckon then? All signs it was a break-in.

Mrs Keir could have stumbled across her intruder.

He's abducted her in her own car. The burglar thought she knew him.

Yeah, it struck me that way, too.

Don't tell we're in agreement.

Don't worry, it won't last.

Him?

Hotel alibi. He could have got back in the night and done it, but no motive as yet.

He seems pretty cut up. So it appears.

Oh, Christ! What?

We stable hacks for people and hire them out to other riders.

So there was money taken the night Mrs Keir went missing?

Yup, about £80. They took the lot.

You live at the house, do you, Diana?

No, Dave lives up here. I rent a place over Dulverton way.

You're not from round these parts, are you?

Pardon? Your accent.

A touch of Yorkshire in there somewhere?

I lived in the north for a bit, yeah.

I thought so.

I'm from Leeds, myself.

Well, just outside, actually.

How well did you know Mrs Keir?

For the past two, three years.

She's been like a mother to me.

And Mr Keir? I don't have much dealings with him.

Why's that?

I just don't.

Where were you on Tuesday night?

At home.

Ah, that's Alison. Mrs Keir with Greek Warrior.

Beautiful horse.

Oh, yeah. He's super.

Jumps like a stag.

Alison's dream was to win the Hunt Open race on him.

You know horses?

A little. I used to ride quite a lot.

All right.

Thank you...Miss Byrne.

We may need to talk to you again.

Sure. Any time. I'm always here.

Just call if you want to book a ride.

We've got some nice, gentle mares. Oh, OK. Thanks.

Left, right, left, right...

What kind of a feel did you get down at the stables?

Well, strange, but hardly surprising under the circumstances.

Visit them again and try and dig a bit deeper if you can, Lucy.

Maybe book that ride. Oh, yeah, that'll be good.

It'll have to be in your own time though.

The budget's tight.

Great. Thanks.

My brother-in-law's in the Terriers.

Army barmy, is he? Nah.

It's more of a drinking club, really. Boy scouts and booze.

Morning, sir. Morning.

Our glorious dead.

Do you have a problem with that, Potter?

No, sir, I was just - Excuse me.

I'm looking for Superintendent Wycliffe. Mr Keir, isn't it?

Yeah, is he here? I must see him. This way.

Superintendent.

Mr Keir. Have you brought the list of names? No.

This came this morning. It's demanding money for Alison.

Yeah. Just put it down on the desk, would you, please?

A maniac has kidnapped her. They want money.

He's threatening to kill her.

Just take it easy. Typewritten.

Good English, sir.

It's demanding £50,000 to be put in a numbered bank account within three days.

It's an odd place to want ransom money lodged, isn't it?

Check the account with the bank. Has anyone else touched that letter?

This, no, no, only me. I brought it straight here.

The envelope, please. Yeah, I've got that here.

Um, look. I can't get that sort of money, no way can I get that money.

Let's not panic. Sit down, please.

Panic?! My wife's life is being threatened, how would you feel?

Yes, yes. I understand. Can the police put the money up?

I doubt we could do that. You said you would do everything to help.

We are doing everything.

It's just that such things are not in our hands, Mr Keir.

But I'll look into it. I promise you.

God, he said he's going to kill her. What can I do?

Please, you've just got to help me.

What are you doing?

Please, don't do this.

Let me go. I won't tell anyone it was you.

Please.

Is he difficult to hold? The Warrior?

Yeah, full of himself at the moment.

When's this big race?

The Hunt Open? It's next Saturday.

So who'll be riding Mrs Keir's horse?

Well, Alison, I hope... if she's back.

Dave Penryn will want the leg up otherwise...

if Mr Keir decides to run the Warrior.

Is there big money involved? Only small race prizes.

And the betting? The bookies are there, yeah.

Sometimes big money's laid on. Dave likes a good gamble.

Oh, does he? Mainly it's the kudos.

Big rivalry. The Open's the top race of everybody's season.

I get it, so Dave wants to ride so he can grab the glory.

Oh, yeah. He's always looking for it.

A big opinion of himself, Dave has.

Did Alison ever talk to you about her personal life?

Sometimes.

Do you think her and her husband were happy with each other?

On and off. Why's that?

Did she tell you something?

Diana.

Alison got jealous sometimes.

Oh, he played around a bit then, did he, Mr Keir?

Well, he's not what he seems, put it that way.

There's a woman, Mrs Tregelles,

Major Tregelles's wife.

She's on the hunt committee with Mr Keir.

And Mr Keir and she have a relationship, you mean?

Well, there's lots of gossip, you know how it is.

The Tregelleses have a horse, Paladin -

the only thing that will beat Warrior in the Open.

So the Tregelleses and the Keirs are big rivals?

Major Tregelles is. He's the win-at-all-costs sort.

You must try to keep a grip on yourself.

Yes. It'll soon be over.

One way or the other.

Good morning. Morning, Mrs Tregelles.

How's Paladin? He's fit and ready to run his heart out.

You won't run Greek Warrior in the Open.

No, though maybe I should.

Morning, Mrs Tregelles.

I must get on. Alex, I hope you get some good news soon.

Yes, and thanks for everything.

This came.

So we do nothing?

Can you not raise the issue with the chief constable? I'd appreciate that.

Yes, I would.

Thank you.

Right, Doug.

Doug!

I'm sorry, sir. Any joy with the money?

The wheels at HQ grind slowly. Yes, Potter.

Forensic report on the ransom note and the envelope.

No fingerprints or indentations.

The envelope was posted in Truro.

They're running checks on the typewriter format,

it was electronic, and a DNA check on the glue.

There was a lickable type of envelope seal.

Ha! Well, keep me posted. Yes, sir.

Sorry, sir.

Any thoughts, Doug?

Not worth wasting any breath over, sir.

Supposing it was a burglary. Yeah.

Someone abducts her, panics,

and then decides to go the whole hog and sends a ransom note.

Yes, it's possible but the bank account that he wants the money put into was opened a year ago,

with a false ID, under the name of Baker.

And the address given doesn't trace.

There's been some planning put into this.

Yes, but it's very odd, though.

Any joy down at the stables?

I spoke to Diana Byrne, the stable secretary.

She mentioned a Major and Mrs Tregelles.

She gave the impression that Alex Keir may have been playing around with Mrs Tregelles.

It might be tittle-tattle. We've got little else to go on.

There's also something about this big race coming up.

The Tregelleses and the Keirs

both have horses running against each other.

You're not suggesting that someone's abducted Alison to stop her riding a horse.

Who can say, sir? I do know passions run deep in the horse world.

Have you got an address for these Tregelles people?

Yes. You'd better get down there with Doug. Have a chat with them.

Sir.

PHONE RINGS

How was the horse ride?

Oh, it was great. Now I know why the Queen rides side-saddle.

Er, yes, yes. Put him on.

Mr Keir, Superintendent Wycliffe.

No, no, no. Just keep the letter there.

Yeah, and don't let anybody else touch it.

Now, remember, Paladin rushes his fences,

so find your stride.

Go on.

Gregory, our son.

He'll ride Paladin in the Open.

About Mr Keir.

Oh, yes. Well, as I said,

we've been close friends for, oh, five years or so.

When did you last see him? Alex?

This morning, up at the stables. And before that?

Oh, I think it was last Monday I was up there.

Why was that? Hunt business.

Is that the only basis for your close relationship?

Who have you been talking to? I'm sorry?

Some people around these parts have little to do with their lives but gossip, inspector.

Some of them have, in the past, seen fit to repeat their innuendoes in my husband's presence.

Mrs Tregelles, I can assure you - Alex Keir and I are friends!

Good friends, nothing more,

despite his wife's ridiculous accusations

and no doubt what you have heard from other people's wagging tongues.

Too close in!

And get hold of him!

Loser.

Is that a Guard's tie, sir?

Yes.

I thought so. I was 2 Para, myself, sir.

Ah! The Danglers, eh.

Falklands?

Yes, sir. My swan song.

A good few others, too.

Yes, sir.

Is this about the Keir woman?

Yes, we've been given to believe

that you and the Keirs have a bit of a healthy rivalry.

Oh. With the horses, sir.

Well, we both have animals running in the Hunt Open race, yeah.

So best man wins sort of thing, is it, sir?

No, it's best horse. Ha, ha, ha...

No, if ours wins the Open race he'll go to stud.

It'll put a bit of value on the horse winnings. Oh, yes. Plenty.

No, we'll sell Paladin on for breeding.

We've got an expensive bloodline.

Actually, it was Mr Keir I wanted to talk to you about, sir.

I don't know the man. I thought you and your wife -

My wife is better acquainted with Mr Keir.

There's a mutual passion. They ride with each other.

And that's all I know or want to know about Alex Keir.

So I'm sorry, I can't help you.

Over here!

Useless!

When did this second letter arrive?

In this morning's post.

I phoned your office straightaway.

I'd like to go through with you what the letter says.

It's obvious, isn't it?

This is a nightmare I'm going through, can't you understand that?

Yes, I can, sir.

If it was my wife, I'd feel just as you do, but -

He's going to kill her if we don't get the money.

Yes.

I've spoken to my superiors about that.

And?

We are...

unable to provide the ransom money. I'm sorry.

Well, why? You know I can't raise it.

The place is mortgaged to the hilt.

Do you hold any insurance cover on Mrs Keir?

No, I mean, why do you ask?

Well, in the circumstances you might have been able to negotiate for the insurers to put the money up.

Oh, because she's going to die anyway, is that what you mean?

Mr Keir...

can we talk about the letter, please?

Now...

here, at the end of the letter, it says...

"Don't ride the horse."

What does that mean to you?

Why would anyone demand that?

I don't know.

Is this about a race?

Who wouldn't want you to run the horse?

Mr Keir, please. This may be the key to what's happening here.

I've no idea. It's plain as day.

We're dealing with some sort of maniac.

Perhaps. And you're still standing here asking questions

when you could at least be out searching for Alison!

Mr Keir,

Cornwall is a very big place. It's not possible.

At the moment, we have no indication at all

where your wife might be being held.

So we just sit and wait...until she turns up dead, is that it?

It's a nasty business.

Are we looking at accidental death?

Possibly.

She stinks of booze.

Really?

Any idea when she died?

The dashboard clock has stopped at 1.26am.

But the loss of heat from the body doesn't seem to fit.

So she wasn't necessarily killed by the crash?

Um...

What's happened? It's all right. Let him go.

What's happened? I'm sorry, Mr Keir.

I'm sorry, but apparently your wife's been involved in some kind of accident.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God. You said that you'd do EVERYTHING!

You did NOTHING!

If you'd have got the money she would have been all right!

(SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY)

Why didn't you tell me, Simon? The job just came up.

Look, the local reporter's ill.

Reporting dog shows and garden parties is one thing.

I can't turn down the opportunity. I can't do it.

This could seriously compromise my situation.

No, it won't. I promise you, it won't.

White, no sugar, ma'am.

Thank you.

Can we help you, sir?

No.

Flash customer. Spot the designer labels, did you?

So that's Simon.

Ah, lovers' tiff, eh?

Yeah, the course of true love never runs smooth, sarge.

How would you know, Potter?

Two things don't fit. No attempt to wait for the ransom money.

"Don't ride the horse".

Why?

Well, what if Alison Keir staged her own disappearance?

A development, sir. Forensics have gone over Mrs Keir's car.

Apparently the accelerator cable has been jammed wide open.

Full throttle. Deliberately.

She wasn't driving the car. IT was driving HER.

They also found this.

An address of some sort of holiday cottage.

Where did they find this? On the back of the seat in the car.

Interesting little clue, eh?

Check it out, Andy. Yes, ma'am.

It may be a clue. It maybe a message.

A message? Mmm.

Whoever's behind this is clouding the issue right, left and centre.

It's something to do with them stables. Let's turn 'em over.

All right, Doug. Get a warrant.

Come on. Now we're looking at murder, let's dig.

Are you going to run him in the Open, boss? Yes.

Are you sure he's fit, Mr Keir? Oh, yes.

Well, what about the warning in the ransom note?

We run. It's what Alison would have wanted.

We'll do it. For her. We'll do it.

Nobody's going to stop me.

Can I ride?

Oh, no. I'll be riding him.

That's ridiculous.

No way. I've ridden in the final before.

I have to do this. You're in no state, boss.

It's Alison's horse. Nobody else rides him, understand?

The Warrior needs strong handling.

Don't you do this to me! I qualified him! It's my right!

Eight years I've mucked out in this place.

And I still get treated like dirt!

It would be really great if you could help us, sir.

I appreciate it's a tragic...

Yes, fine, yeah. Just take what you want.

Paperwork, books, that sort of thing. Is that OK? Yes, certainly.

Just take it, yeah. OK, thanks.

Start over there.

Inspector? Yeah.

I think there's something I should tell you.

Fire away.

When Superintendent Wycliffe asked me about life insurance cover

on my wife I told him there was none.

Yeah.

Well, in conversation with my solicitor, after I'd heard about Alison being found,

he mentioned something to me which I hadn't realised.

Apparently, our mortgages include a mortgage protection scheme.

Yes, so what does that mean, exactly, then?

It seems that on the demise of either myself or my wife the mortgage outstanding is cleared.

So how much is it worth to you, then?

Well, probably upwards of something like...

£200,000.

And you say you were unaware of this benefit, yes?

Yes! I swear to you.

Alison handled that side of things. I had no idea.

I had no idea at all.

It does put a different complexion on things, sir.

Well, yes. I suppose it does, yes.

Will you excuse me, please?

Sir...

Take it.

Definitely not your straightforward road crash, Charles.

Yeah, we were aware of that.

The deceased has abrasions to both wrists,

consistent with being tied up,

glue fibres under the finger nails

and some interesting contusions in the mouth area.

Interesting? They're consistent with the introduction of a foreign object into the mouth -

a gag or a weapon of some sort.

But more interesting yet,

we've had the vital organs and fluid report back.

How's your toxicology? Try me.

You know the old Cornish navy tradition of the press gangs,

how they'd pay an innkeeper to put knock-out drops in a drink?

In no time at all he'd be three sheets to the wind

then the press gangs would whisk him away to a life on the ocean wave.

Knock-out? Chloral hydrate.

It's a highly soluble liquid -

odourless, matched with alcohol in sufficient quantities

a lethal, little cocktail.

She was given that?

Brain swollen. Lungs congested.

According to the report,

she was swimming in the stuff.

Or should I say drowning?

So, she was dead before the car crash?

Aye, if the tree hadn't got her, the poison most certainly would have.

And the contusions to the dead woman's mouth,

could they be caused by a bottle?

In other words,

could she have been force-fed this mixture?

Hmm, it's possible.

It's a bizarre way to kill someone.

Keir's typewriter had a ribbon cassette in it, like this one.

Now, if I pull that out

you can see each letter has been punched out of the tape by the keystroke.

It reads like a book.

What we have here...

is a photocopy of the ribbon in Keir's machine.

I've blown it up two-fold,

cut it into line-length strips.

Clear as day.

The ransom notes were definitely written on Mr Keir's typewriter.

Thank you.

"..fences to go...

There's a faller...

CHEERING

First, number 12, second, number 7...

third, number 2.

First, number 12..."

Thank you.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time..."

David, where the hell have you been?

Now, remember, hold Paladin up till the last two furlongs.

Then, kick for home.

Is David Penryn here?

No, they took Greek Warrior to the point-to-point.

I'm heading down there now. You say, they?

Him and Mr Keir. Point-to-point?

Yes. Would you get in and show us how to get there?

OK.

What are we looking for, sir?

Watch out!

SCREECHING BRAKES

Are you all right?

Yeah.

"In the parade ring, the jockeys are now mounting their horses...

for the final of this year's South West Cornwall Hunt Open..."

Are we expecting trouble in this race?

I'm not sure.

We need to talk to David Penryn, though.

He's over there.

So are the Tregelleses. Have you spoken to him?

No, but I wouldn't rule Major Tregelles out.

There's obviously no love lost between him and Alex Keir.

Somebody's been settling old scores, but who or what...I don't know.

So, who last booked the cottage?

A family - Mr and Mrs Baker. They took it for the whole of this month.

Baker, did you say? Yes, they paid by cheque.

So did you see them down here much? No, no.

Our company's based in Camborne.

They picked up the key themselves... from here.

Not very good security, madam.

We find it quite a good system, actually.

It saves me running all over Cornwall on changeover days.

"The runners are on their way up to the start...

for the final...

Greek Warrior, 4/1, second favourite,

was an impressive winner last time round in the qualifiers..."

Gregory Tregelles on Paladin

will be attempting to bring the trophy home to his father's stables

for a third time."

Will you be much longer?

"They're under starter's orders. They're off."

"As they start the second circuit. Greek Warrior on the outside..."

Someone's been mixing their drinks.

It's got Keir's name in it.

Wasn't it blue fibres they found underneath her fingernails at the post mortem?

Yup.

"In the final turn towards home, it's Paladin by two lengths..."

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Yeah.

"Greek Warrior now in the lead..."

Cheers, Lucy.

(WHISPERS)

Keir's coat?

What's he playing at?

Warrior! Are you all right?

I'm fine, yeah.

"It's Paladin finishing strongly..."

Mr Keir!

Ivy Cottage, Mr Keir, is a holiday let 40 miles north of Dulverton.

You booked it in the name of Baker, didn't you?

I've never heard of the place.

No, your coat was found there. I've told you I lost that coat.

It was stolen from my car. Did you report it?

No, it was an old thing. What was the point?

The police never find anything. Well, we have now,

in the cellar where your wife was held.

I'll put it to you again, Mr Keir.

Did you kidnap Alison Keir and keep her in that cellar?

No! Well, somebody did!

You typed the ransom letters on your typewriter

and you posted them to yourself, didn't you?

No, this is ridiculous. You rigged the death of your wife

to make it look like a car crash, didn't you?!

I loved Alison. I couldn't have harmed her, not in a million years.

Somebody killed Alison and then they tried to kill me in the race.

My stirrup leather had been cut through. I'd do that myself, is it what you think?!

I think we should stop here.

Take a break.

Interview suspended -

20:02.

What's happening, sir? Get in the car, Doug. Let's go.

The car crash, Doug, why was Alison Keir killed in that way?

I don't know, sir. It was a bit odd though, wasn't it?

Remember, Alex Keir had a spent conviction for drunk-driving eight years ago?

Yeah. I got a collator up north to look up his card.

Apparently, he and Alison Keir were involved in a crash,

two people in the other car were killed - Mr and Mrs Sykes.

Keir got off death by dangerous driving

on the grounds that... Yeah,

that he was too drunk to be deliberately dangerous.

The usual loophole. Yeah.

But there was a third passenger in Mr and Mrs Sykes car,

their daughter, Angela. She survived. And?

Well, she would have been 14 at the time.

22 now.

A young woman.

Go easy on him. He had a hard race yesterday.

Angela!

Hey, what's going on?

Where's that track go?

Over to Dulverton.

There she is.

Angela Sykes.

You are Angela Sykes, aren't you?

My name is Diana Byrne.

Angela, we have your real passport.

My name is Diana Byrne.

You kidnapped Alison Keir, didn't you?

Typed the letters, stole Mr Keir's coat.

Where did you first get involved with horses?

Diana?

I have a daughter.

She's nearly your age.

She was horse mad when she was a kid.

Was it the same with you?

Yes.

You were very close to your parents.

How old were you?

14.

We ran off the road.

Go on.

And...

..my mother died in my arms.

And he, Keir,

he lied.

He stood in front of the jury and he lied.

And they let him go.

Yes, I know.

Him and Alison, they had their lives.

Everybody forgot about me.

I had nothing.

And that hurt.

I swore then,

I swore they wouldn't get away with it.

And so you killed Alison Keir, didn't you, Angela?

And then you tried to kill her husband,

by cutting the stirrup straps, that's right, isn't it?

Yes.

It was here, inside,

all the time.

It never went away.

I HATED them.

Greek Warrior.

I'm sorry?

You know, the Trojan horse.

Oh, yeah.

They took it in.

They didn't know.

Inside, just waiting to destroy them,

like they did to me.

Alison deserved to die.

And he deserved to know what's it like when the person you love

more than anything else in the world...

..is taken away from you.

Looking at her, you just wouldn't think she was capable.

Everybody's capable, Lucy.

That's rule number one.

Carrying round a grudge that deep for eight years.

You see somebody that close killed in front of your eyes you don't forget.

Believe me. How's that, Doug?

Oh, I...

..I had a mate in the Paras,

Ian. He got totally...

..malleted in the Falkland Islands. And he didn't stand a hope in hell.

And we just stood there...

watched him being butchered.

That's when I jacked in the army, joined you lot.

But there's all the hullabaloo and the band...

They didn't bang a triangle

for the boys that came back in boxes, did they?

It's funny. It's 13 years ago...

..you still rage about it inside.

It's funny, isn't it?

Excuse me. Simon.

Right, I'll see you back at the base.

Simon.

OK, Doug. I'll be in the yard.

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