Original subtitles

Heartbeat, why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

Heartbeat, why does a love kiss stay in my memory?

Thank you, sir.

Is everything all right for you?

Perfectly, thank you.

Aidensfield. Is that near here?

Next up up the road.

Fifteen minutes by car?

Quiet sort of place, I imagine.

That's the grave, sir.

For he knoweth

whereof we are made.

He remembereth that we are but dust.

Days of man are but as grass.

for he flourisheth as the flower of the field.

As soon as the wind goeth over it, it is gone, and the place thereof shall know

it no more.

We have entrusted our brother, Thomas Jowett, to God's merciful keeping.

Poor Turnhart.

Makes it even more distressing.

You know him well?

No, not really.

I've nursed him for the past year.

He used to be quite active in local affairs.

You wouldn't think it, would you?

He'd been a virtual recluse in recent years. Why was that?

Oh, some personal snub from way back.

You know what villagers are like.

Are you all right, Maggie?

Yes, but... Oh, you know...

Just an accumulation of things.

They don't help.

Maggie said he had a brain tumour the size of a tennis ball. Nothing could be

done for him.

That's hard to come to terms with.

But Maggie must have seen it all before. But I've never seen us upset.

Well, if that's needed, a holiday.

Away from the sick and the lame.

Perhaps.

Oh, I, um... I thought I'd ask Joyce Jarrett if she'd like to help me with

flowers for the church.

She might appreciate the company, though.

Any suggestions for a place to stay?

In Aidensfield.

There's no hotel as such. Try the pub across the road.

Oh, right, thanks.

I'm looking for a Jowett.

Do you know where I can find him?

You just move to the graveyard. I did the removal.

You can find his widow on Meadowbank Road, outskirts of the village.

Constable, can I have a word?

Come in.

Billy was the children's dog, really. But you know how it is. I ended up

after him. Anyway, it's upset us all. Of course.

Thing is, it should have been reported.

That's the law, isn't it? Yeah.

So what sort of person just leaves a dog dead and says nothing?

Well, I'm sorry, Mrs Mason. It happens, I'm afraid.

Yes. Well, I don't think that's all there is to it.

How do you mean?

I've had a letter. It's tight and everything.

Everything that is except a name on the bottom.

So what's it say?

That we let Billy loose in field to worry sheep.

It says if we couldn't control the dog, he should be put down.

And was your dog worrying sheep?

We tried to keep him in, but what with the kids opening the gate?

It makes no direct threat.

None that you can see, perhaps. To me, it says keep an eye on your dog or else.

May I keep this?

Do you have any idea who might have sent it? Try Jim Riley.

He's the only farmer grazing sheep at our end of the village.

Miss Weston? Yes?

Nigel Wheeler.

Your father might have mentioned my name.

I'm not sure.

I've been inviting him on some money matters.

I'm sorry if he did say something.

He suggested I should call in if I was ever in this neck of the woods. Well,

please, come in. Thank you.

Black and white?

Yeah, collie.

Asked it to the name of Billy.

Not my name for it. Aye, I've seen it. Been running some of my ewes ragged.

The dog's been run over.

Good riddance.

The owners received this anonymous letter telling them to keep their dog

control. Aye.

It didn't come from you?

Me? No.

Or Mrs Riley?

Course not.

The owners think whoever wrote the letter has run over the dog

What are you saying?

Listen, if I'd known who'd owned that dog, I'd have gone round and strangled

Now, I'm going to dip these sheep.

If I were you, I'd get on my bike before I got myself all mucked up.

Where are you based?

Leeds. But I travel all over.

Bringing the word to the native.

I don't preach and I don't judge.

If people feel happier with their money under the mattress, I don't want to

argue. However, with no risk at all, there are ways of making your nest egg

grow. I'm sure my father is aware of most of them. He is now.

An astute man.

I'm afraid I spend what I get. Oh, I'm not here to sell you a savings scheme.

It's a social call.

Hello. Hi.

Nick, this is Nigel Wheeler.

Constable. Nick Rowan. I'm not on official business.

Nigel's a financial advisor from Leeds. Dad said he should call in if he's in

the area.

But you come up from the premium, Bonson.

Fat chance.

I'm not on duty either. Just a social call.

Is that your car?

Yes.

You've got some damage to the front bumper.

Have I?

Parking prank, probably.

There's some traces of blood.

Really?

It's probably just the pheasant.

We had a report of a dog run over this morning. Yes, well, I think I'd know if

I'd hit a dog.

Yeah, yeah, probably so.

Anyway, thanks for coffee, Joe.

Nice to meet you both.

See you around.

Talk about topping up that police pension, perhaps.

Bye now.

Bye, Nigel.

Don't you ever knock off.

I only asked a question.

Do you always have to interrogate visitors like that?

I didn't think you'd invited him. Well, my father had, which I suppose you think

is reason enough to give him a third degree.

Phone, Uncle George.

I'm out.

But it could be the Queen.

I'm still out.

Any sign of Lord yet?

No, Sarge.

What's that?

Desk, Sarge.

Radio, Sarge. From the found property locker.

I know where it's from, Bellamy.

I was just putting new batteries in it, Sarge. I'll put new batteries into you

in a minute. Suppose the owner came in now and found you dickering with it. Now

just put it back.

Yes, Sarge. And don't use anything from the found property locker again.

Watch yourself.

I think the moon's in the wrong quarter.

Blaketon's in a filthy mood here.

Thank you, Rowan.

Yes, Sarge. Jim Riley's been on the phone.

He says you're accusing him of writing threatening letters and executing pets.

I was following up a complaint, Sarge. Well, now I am.

Have you got the letter?

Did you know your barometer was in there, Sarge?

From your office.

Put it back, shall I?

Where is he? He's in here.

What on earth were you doing, George?

I dropped the axe.

Temper. That's what caused it. Don't talk stupid.

Temper?

What's the problem?

There isn't one. Only in his mind.

Haven't you got pumps to polish?

He's had an anonymous letter.

It won't go any further than Maggie.

What did it say?

Him allowing after I was drinking.

It's probably from some temperance nutcase.

It's my licence that sticks, so don't go poo -pooing it. If a magistrate gets to

hear, that's me card marked.

Well, it's a threatening letter.

It's not really.

Well, if it's no threat, why write and tell me something I already know?

You should tell this to Nick Rowan.

I'll give myself up.

Oh, come on, George.

Nothing in this will be news to him. Maybe not. Do you think it's really

serious? Yes, I do.

Admit your bad timekeeping and get Nick on to it. This sort of blackmail needs

stopping before it takes a hold.

Mrs Jowett?

Yes? Nigel Wheeler.

What an amazing place.

Am I interrupting?

No, I'm only weeding.

That's amazingly weed -free to me.

Soon gets out of hand.

You don't have any help?

Not now.

My husband died recently.

Oh, I see. I'm sorry.

Perhaps that's why Miss Weston thought I should pay you a visit.

Miss Weston? The teacher at the junior school.

I'm not as well acquainted with local people as you might imagine. How can I

help you, Mr Wheeler?

It's more a case of me helping you.

But now that you've told me of your recent bereavement, this may not be the

time.

Time for what?

I'm a financial advisor, Mrs. Jowett.

Ah. And I understand completely if you'd rather wait before doing anything about

your future needs.

My husband worked for a bank, Mr. Wheeler, so naturally I left money

him. Of course.

But now you have your own decisions to make.

If I can help you, as I have Miss Weston and her father, I'd be more than happy

to oblige.

Unusual name.

I suppose it is.

Politics with my husband's passion.

Let me explain your financial options to you now, Mrs. Jarrett.

It'll only take five minutes.

I'm not admitting anything, mate.

Once or twice I might have absentmindedly pulled a pint after time,

perfect. But from now on you will be, eh?

Yeah.

Yes.

Any idea, Rota?

Perhaps the blackmail notes to follow.

Thanks, Nick.

We did such a lather, what with the letter and this fellow Wheeler.

Nigel Wheeler?

Yeah. He's staying at the pub.

He's got me Uncle George interested in some money -making scheme.

Do you think he's all right?

Well, that's not for me to say, Gina.

That's for George to decide.

Yeah, I suppose so.

I just don't want him rushed into anything.

It seems like the writer just wants people to know they're being watched.

Doing your job, in other words.

A little creepy, though.

Talking of which, I hear your friend Wheeler's got his claws into George.

Just because he comes with my dad's seal of approval, Nick.

Well, he dresses as nice as he smells.

Meow, we've got claws now.

Hello, Maggie.

Hello.

Have you got a minute, Nick?

Yeah, sure.

So what's the problem?

I've made calls on two patients with similar stories, involving anonymous

letters.

Oh, that.

In both cases, it's caused upsets and probably injury.

Hang on, Maggie. If you call the letters, you'd know there's not much to

Well, yes, but there is to those who get them.

Well, I appreciate that.

So what are you doing about it?

What am I doing?

Yes.

Well, whoever wrote them isn't threatening anything or demanding money.

So there's no crime, you mean?

Well, not that I can see, no.

That's nonsense, Nick.

I mean, the threat's clear enough. I know something about you, and I'm going

use it. Not now, perhaps, but someday.

Maggie. For someone to hold that over you, that's the crime.

You've had one.

It happened a long time ago.

Something I thought I'd put it to the back of my mind.

Well, if you don't tell me what it is, I can't help you.

When I was training to be a nurse, I had an affair with a married man and got

pregnant.

He was the ambitious type.

Quite a public figure now.

He paid for an abortion.

It was illegal, of course, but that was no obstacle to those who had money.

And if this came out?

Couldn't face it.

Have you got the letter?

Who knew?

That me,

him and the doctor.

And the man's wife?

Not that I know of.

He isn't named in the letter.

No, but there's enough to show that the writer knows who he is.

There's still no direct threat.

Oh, for heaven's sake, Nick, this is the third letter. How many more do you need

before it becomes a police matter?

Do you want to tell me the man's name?

No.

Can't be anything to do with him.

If he's a public figure, he'll have enemies.

I thought that was a possibility until I heard about the other two letters.

This isn't an outsider, Nick.

This is someone here in the village.

Hello, George.

What's all this here about you trimming your toenails with a chopper?

What do you want?

Well, a concerned customer has come to see how you're getting on.

All right.

How does it feel? Painful?

Not for you to worry about.

I'll be back behind that vine in no time.

Not before we get used to these full measures, I hope.

What are you reading?

Wheeler left them for me.

Wheeler? The fellow we've got staying here. What, him with his blue

and stinks of perfume?

Aftershave. Same difference, isn't it? He seems to know his stuff.

Investment without risk.

Double your money in a year.

Laid up like this, a bloke starts thinking, Claude. Ah, well, not as the

may be.

There's only one safe way to double your money, George.

That's to take your notes out of your pocket, fold them over and bung them

in again.

You'll get your money.

I know what I said, but... Listen, you're already sharking me for 10 % over

odds, so you can't lose.

Look, get off my back.

You'll get your money.

Just the man.

Oh, what's up?

Think back, Claude. About eight years ago, to be exact. He gave me a cup final

ticket. Did he? What about it? Why?

What? Eight years ago? I can't even remember what happened yesterday

Well, try.

I don't know.

I probably didn't want to use it myself.

So where did you get this cup final ticket from?

I used to get one every year.

What for?

What's all this about?

What for?

Well, I used to do some deliveries for a bloke, you know, cash only.

Cash only?

A bloke who owned the firm. He used to have two sets of books, one for the

inland revenue and a proper one. What, are you looking for another ticket?

No. Well, what's all the fuss about?

Well, I've had an unsigned letter accusing me of obtaining a cup final

from a dubious source.

Did you tell anyone about it?

Of course I didn't.

I mean, if you remember rightly, I'll...

The reason that you have the ticket in the first place was because you'd been a

bit understanding about a slightly overdue tax -discopy lorry, you know, so

you'd done me one, so I did you one.

I've been waiting for you.

Can I have a word?

Then I'd be back, didn't I? Did you find what you wanted in Aidensfield, sir?

Yeah. But I prefer it much better here.

There's only one thing you can do, Alf.

And it was going spare.

Well, I think that's what he said.

It was eight years ago. Hard to remember.

Somebody had.

Yes, I had.

And there was no you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours about it?

No. You know me, Sarge.

Is that a yes or a no?

Well, my memory's playing tricks.

As far as I remember, there was something about an old tax disc.

Go on.

Well, Greengrass said he got a new one at home and I gave him the benefit of

doubt.

Knowing he'd go straight into the post office and buy one.

Yes, Sarge.

Anything else playing tricks with your memory, Ventrix?

I don't think so, Sarge.

You're a fool, aren't you?

Yes, Sarge.

Well, if his letter writer chooses to make mischief, who knows?

What have you got so far, Rowan?

Well, next to nothing, Sarge.

There doesn't seem to be any link between those who've had letters to

common enemy.

The typewriters?

Well, all four letters appear to have been typed from the same machine.

The four you know about.

Well, unless there's a sudden outbreak of honesty, we'll never know if there

any more.

It's a delicate business, this, but I want you to pursue it.

You're looking for a nosy local with a grudge against the world in general, and

the police in particular. You can start with Greengrass.

What, as a suspect?

Not this time.

But his ragbag of a mind is full of tittle -tattle. Something useful might

out.

What's all this? Mom handed?

Must be something serious.

We're hoping you can solve a little mystery, Claude. There's only one

I've never been able to solve. That is why when there's something up, you

seem to come straight here.

What's all this then, Claude? What does it look like?

Office furniture.

Well done, Sherlock.

Before you ask, I've got all the receipts. I never said a word, Claude.

There's a bloke who'll take all this stuff off me he can get.

I think he ships it to underdeveloped countries like Lancashire.

Matthew, I usually nick all the best of for myself.

I knew you'd get to wipe your feet.

The typewriter, Claude?

I don't know how I managed without it.

I mean, a businessman without a typewriter, it's a bit like a couple

suspicious mind, isn't it?

It's not natural.

Didn't know you could type.

Well, only with one finger. Mind it, I don't use the same one every time.

Are you going to tell me what you've come for or not?

Well, funnily enough, we're looking for a typewriter.

It's been used to send malicious letters.

Oh, I see. And as usual, it's down to me, is it?

I never thought it was you.

I'm surprised, sir. I mean, I've got no time to type malicious letters, let

alone the inclination.

Oh, well, just for the record, we'd better eliminate this machine from our

inquiries. Well, that's only a confide.

Better have a look at this one, I don't know.

So don't hurry me, hurry me, worry me. Take it easy, baby.

Take it easy, Horace.

I hope I haven't called at a bad time. I wasn't doing anything that can't wait.

It's just that when I saw you at the church, I wondered if you'd care to give

a hand with the flowers.

If you had the time.

Well, there's no need to give an answer now.

Think about it. I will.

Thank you.

Thomas wasn't very churchy, but I used to be a regular.

Is this Mr. George?

Yes.

I gather he was interested in local politics.

Oh, he gave all that up years ago.

And why was that?

Death illusionment, I suppose.

He voted for the quiet life, and I wasn't going to argue.

Will you find things a little too quiet now?

Possibly so.

Though I had another surprise caller, a charming man, called Nigel Wheeler.

A financial advisor.

Yes, I've heard his name mentioned. He was recommended to come and see me by

Miss Weston, though I don't think I've ever met her.

Oh.

I've got a lump sum of money, and he suggests I buy an annuity.

I don't suppose you know anything about that sort of thing, do you? Nothing at

all, I'm afraid.

I suppose that's why we need the Nigel Wheelers of this world.

Well, thanks for holding the thought. Any problems?

No, good as gold, weren't you, Katie?

Yeah, I've been on to the criminal records office about your friend

You're determined to paint him black, aren't you? He used your name to

himself to Mrs Jowett. He's pushy, Nick, that's all. He's a go -getter.

It's what he goes getting that worries me.

Well, what did the records office say?

Well, they've got nothing on a Wheeler. Well, there you are, then.

Well, who's to say that's his name?

Come on, what more do you want?

A trip to his office in Leeds. Why?

Well, when I spoke to them on the phone, they sounded kosher enough, but I won't

be convinced until I've been there myself.

All right, Phil?

No. I've got typist elbow.

Hello, Phil.

Hello, Jill.

Hey, get in there, you.

OK.

I'm serious, you know, about leave.

Well, you know where to find me.

Can't be.

Can't be what?

Greengrass's typewriter.

It looks like the same machine that typed the poison pen letters.

Thanks very much.

Is she all right?

Well, she's badly shaken up. They're keeping her in for observation.

Do you know what happened?

Well, she ran into a van, apparently.

Lucky by the sound of it. Poor Mackie.

I'll go and see her.

Get her some flowers from us all.

And go easy on the questions, eh?

I've got to see a man about a typewriter.

You're cocking your leg up the wrong tree. I mean, whoever typed them

they were using phrases I never knew existed.

How do you know?

Because I've had one myself, haven't I?

So where is it?

Why?

I want to see it.

You can't.

This is furious, Claude.

All right, but it's for your eyes only.

Phil.

Here. And don't laugh.

In broad daylight.

I didn't know the van was going to drive up, did I?

So where did you get the tight rider from?

Well, I got them at an auction, didn't I? I mean, the lot, you know, I mean, as

far as I know, most of them came from that Ashfordly Secretarial School.

Yeah, all right.

Phil?

Which one is it?

Which one?

The guilty machine.

Which one?

I've no idea.

You'll be stopping for supper.

I'm sorry, if you'd like to leave your name, you'll get back to me.

I'll make sure he gets it. Thank you. Bye.

safety?

No, we're looking for Nigel Wheeler.

He doesn't see people here.

I'm just a telephone answering service.

So you provide the same service for other companies?

Yes. I told him not to give people the address.

There have been two men looking for him as well.

Really? I told them. I don't know where he is, which I don't.

They said they'd be back.

Scared me, to be honest.

It doesn't actually prove anything.

No, not a thing.

I'm still happy for your father to sign checks out to this fellow.

OK. I'm going to go and see him.

I'm still not sure.

Tell me again what it is that's worrying you.

Well, it's not one thing.

I'm just not sure, you know.

Surrender the policy now, and you'll release the money for the scheme that we

discussed. But if I let the policy mature... You miss your chance.

In money matters, timing is all.

Please this opportunity, and I guarantee you'll have no regrets.

Uncle George?

Can you give us a hand?

Yes, coming.

We'll do this another time.

Jo? Hello, Dad.

Nick, what are you doing here?

We're just on our way back from Leeds.

Well, you couldn't have come at a worse time. I'm just leaving for a meeting.

Is it important?

It could be.

We were in Leeds looking for Nigel Wheeler's office.

His office? Why?

Nick doesn't think Wheeler's all he makes out to be.

Huh? So we went to check. We think you should be very cautious, Dad.

We? Nick and me.

You've discussed my private affairs with Nick?

Only as regards Wheeler.

Something of a financial expert, are you, young man?

No, no, of course not.

No, I rather thought not. Perhaps you should stick to what you know and allow

to do likewise.

Nick's only trying to help, Dad.

I see.

Quick to leap to his defence, but happy enough to make a fool of me, is that it?

You know it isn't. We made very general inquiries, Mr Weston. Whether your aims

were general or particular, I take a dim view of anyone interfering in private

family matters.

Well, that wasn't my intention.

After Nigel Wheeler...

I believe that Kenyan professionals like him should be encouraged, not

disparaged. If that's your opinion, Mr. Weston. It is.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to go.

You probably think it's none of my business, but if Nigel Wheeler used my

as a reference, then it is in a way.

But if you didn't suggest it, why did he take it into his head to come?

PC Rowan thinks he saw your husband's obituary.

Oh.

I gather it's a common tactic.

He thought I'd be vulnerable.

Well, yes, I was.

I am.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interfere.

No, no, no. You were right.

All I'm saying is be careful.

Ask your solicitor to look at what he's selling before you do anything.

Such a charming man.

He reminded me a little of Thomas years ago.

And you believe Greengrass?

Yes, Sarge. Because he had a letter himself?

An obvious way of avoiding suspicion, surely.

What was the substance of his letter?

Well, I'm sorry, Sarge, I can't tell you.

What?

Greengrass wouldn't show me, Sarge.

This is a police investigation, Rowan.

I know, but I gave him my word.

Look, I'm sure he had nothing to do with these letters.

Well, not knowing any of the details, I'm in no position to judge.

He bought the typewriter at the auction.

I'm hoping they can help.

You'd best get on with it, then.

And in future, remember, Rowan, your duty to share information with fellow

officers comes before any other obligation.

Yes, Sarge.

Oh, one thing, Sarge.

What's that?

Well, you didn't by any chance happen to get a letter yourself?

If I had...

I'm sure you would have heard about it by now.

That's what I thought, son.

I can tell you who the buyer was, but not necessarily the seller.

Why's that?

Well, sometimes they don't like to broadcast it.

Right, typewriter, batch of them.

Ah,

Claude Greengrass.

He bought a lot of other stuff, too.

I'm only interested in the typewriter at the moment.

Oh, well, he bought 21 of them in two lots.

20 assorted typewriters from the Ashfordly Secretarial School and an

its own.

This one?

Uh, yes.

Do you have the seller's name?

There.

Any use to you?

Yeah, thank you.

Wheeler Financial Services.

Not here anymore.

If you're after money, join the queue.

He hasn't paid me for weeks. And now I've got people threatening me because

hasn't paid them.

I told him when he rang. I'm finished.

Checking up on me again?

Sorry? Her solicitor's on the case now, so you can relax.

I'm going to report you for messing about in my business.

Constable. Mrs Jowett, can I have a word, please?

Yes, of course. I was just showing Mr Gibson out.

Well, it might be a good idea if he stays.

Oh.

Some motor you got here? Yeah.

Look good on the forecourt, eh?

Yeah, fine -looking thing.

Tell you what.

650 if it's yours.

You're kidding me.

Think you've got a market for it?

I might have.

Couldn't raise the cash straight away.

All right, then.

600. It's worth nine easy.

That's still a lot of money.

Forget it.

I'm sorry, I can't take this in.

Are you accusing me of sending anonymous letters to people?

All I'm saying is the letters were typed on a machine that you recently sold at

auction. But I haven't used it for years.

It was Thomas's typewriter, really. What about the person who bought it,

Constable? Well, he's already been eliminated.

When did your husband last use the typewriter?

It must be two years or more. He hasn't had the will to do anything for the past

year. Mr Gibson can test him out of that.

Did your husband hold a grudge against anyone?

There were people he'd disapproved of, certainly, but a grudge.

Well?

Thomas felt badly let down when he was running for re -election of leader of

council. He never rose above deputy manager at the bank constable, but he

dreamed of going all the way in politics.

I believe he would have made Parliament eventually.

So what happened?

He was found guilty of exceeding the amount allowed for his election

He forgot the cost of his postage.

£15.

For that, he was disqualified from office.

Well, who did he blame?

The voters, finally.

He'd worked hard for them.

And after that one slip -up, they'd turn their backs on him.

Shunned him like a criminal. That's how he saw it, anyway.

And did he write them letters about their slip -ups?

He'd sometimes get angry and write a letter just to get it off his chest.

But he never sent them.

Well, how do you know?

I wouldn't let him.

He'd write a letter and put the envelope on the mantelpiece and after a day or

two, when he'd calmed down, he'd put it in the drawer with the others.

Have you still got them?

Yes.

I haven't been able to face clearing out his desk yet.

Mrs Judd... They're in here somewhere.

I'm sorry, you won't find them there.

Why not?

When I came to see Thomas for the last time, he told me where they were.

Whatever for?

He instructed me to take them and post them after his death.

Oh, no, you knew he was ill. I had no idea what was in them. I thought they

probably letters of thanks.

No, please, no.

I'm so sorry, Mrs Jard.

So sorry.

Jarrett must have picked up most of the details through his job and by

observation.

But how did he know about you?

The man I was having the affair with was his political opponent.

The one who lobbied hardest to get him disqualified as leader of the council.

Oh.

Thomas Jarrett must have known about us.

And I suppose with his job at the bank, he'd have known about our finances.

You would have seen the cheque being paid in.

And then later when I wrote another one for the same amount to pay for the

abortion.

Must have been pretty evident what was going on.

Well, you must be relieved.

I suppose so.

Sad as well.

Thought I'd come to terms with what had happened.

Yeah, well... It was the right thing to do at the time.

But then later, when I didn't have children...

Astor,

is Jarrett taking it?

Oh, she's very upset.

He died a bitter man.

There's not much you can do about that.

Mr. Mitchell. Good of you to see me at such short notice. Not at all.

Take a seat.

Thank you.

How can I help you?

It's a matter of money, Mr. Thames.

Naturally. Do you have a property in mind?

Number nine, Parkview Road.

Nine?

I see.

Very amusing.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mitchell, my property's not on the market.

No.

But your wife is.

What the hell are you talking about?

Your wife is safe. Safe?

And will stay safe.

As long as you do everything I say.

What's going on?

Where is she?

She's at home.

With a couple of colleagues of mine to keep her company.

Do you understand?

What do you want?

Three thousand pounds.

Three thousand pounds?

She's worth that, surely.

You want to take the risk.

Phone.

Dead?

Only the phone, Mr. Thames.

I want you to go out there, put the money in this case.

Come back in here, sit quietly for 20 minutes, and no one need get hurt.

Hello, Nick.

Mr Weston.

I'm on my way to see Joe.

Well, come in. No, no, he must be busy.

I just wanted to say you were right about Nigel Wheeler.

Oh. A golfing acquaintance referred him to me and I'd rather let my guard down.

Yeah, well... I'm not often fooled as easily.

Appearance is a deceptive, eh?

Part of your training, I expect.

Anyway, thank you.

I stopped me check, so no harm done.

Well, I'm glad you called back.

Sounds like trouble. I'll let you get on.

Do you think he's feeling prepped?

Yeah.

Anything? I'm going to just go in. It's all very quiet.

The phone wire's been tapped just there.

All right, Mr. Silver, let's have a look.

What are you doing here?

Tall, dark hair, 40 -ish, tweed jacket, grey trousers and glasses.

Yeah.

Ordinary looking, really.

Respectable.

Just another customer.

Is there anything else you remember about him?

The way he spoke or acted?

Well, no.

Nothing else.

Oh, other than... It was when I tried to phone Linda.

He reached across and took the phone off me.

I know it's kind of daft, but he smelled of perfume.

Like a woman.

Time for a word, Mr Wheeler.

Where is he, then?

In the interview room with Al.

What's his story?

Oh, he said he got in too deep with loan sharks, scared stiff he was going to

lose some part of his anatomy.

Well,

he'll be safe enough where he's going.

And it's useful to get this letter business off our plates as well.

Yes, Al. It means that people can rest easier knowing their misdemeanours have

gone to the grave.

Well, only the ones I'm able to tell.

His solicitor sent... Two dozen in all.

Two dozen.

Well, there's nothing we can do about that.

No, Sarge.

You didn't get one yourself, then?

No, Sarge.

Just wondered.

Why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

Heartbeat, why doesn't love just stay in my memory?