Original subtitles

[Mobile ringing]

Hello?

Well, where are you? I've been waiting.

Why not... say...

Okay.

Okay, all right.

Call me later when you get a chance.

[Crows calling]

[Chorus singing Latin anthem]

[Sighs]

No, no, no, no, no!

[Singing stops]

Look...

I know this is a difficult piece.

That's the point.

It'll impress the judges.

But only if it's sung well, It'll impress the judges.

But only if it's sung well,

and that's not happening!

You have to come off

the line endings together.

At the moment, you sound as if you've got a collective stutter,

also, someone is singing a semitone flat, Leo...

Think it's you.

I don't think it is.

Well, I think it is you, it's you

or Connor... right, let's just

try that again, please,

from the letter C.

Conductor: No, no, no, no.

Let's just try that again, please.

[Singing resumes]

[Choir gasps]

Man: Okay, get him into recovery.

He seemed fine when we started.

He's passed out.

His pulse is high, but it's coming down.

Do you think he'll be able to continue?

Uh, no, no, I suppose we better call it a night.

How do you feel? Okay, I'm fine.

You hit your head when you fell...

Go and see your GP and get a check-up, yeah?

Go on, Connor, I'll give you a lift home.

No, I'm all right, really.

You're in no fit state to drive, I'll give you a lift back...

Look, I don't need a lift,

I will get a check-up... and I'm all right.

Thank you.

I'll walk you back to the hall.

Stephen...

No, I'll be fine.

Thanks. Caro!

I thought we were rather good tonight, didn't you, Joyce?

I don't know if Laurence would say so.

Laurence...

Laurence is a perfectionist.

Sounded very good!

You liked it?

Did Connor Simpson say anything,

you know, about feeling unwell

before choir practice?

I don't think so, no.

He did seem a bit quiet, perhaps.

Hey, fancy a quick one?

Why not?

We always do. Well, it's thirsty work,

this singing... hey!

Large G&T? Mm.

I could do with a drink after that.

Yes, and something to eat.

Aah!

Gave my heart a start.

Sorry, I was just...

I was making some notes in the vestry for tomorrow.

Yeah, I...

I left my folder.

Oh, and I found this.

Must have fallen out of Connor's pocket when he fainted.

I'll drop it off on my way.

Laurence...

I wonder if you realize how hard you're pushing us.

It's not an easy piece... you said that yourself.

And... we're all amateurs.

Keen amateurs,

but...

I think it's really beginning to come together.

Don't you? Come together?

I'm going to win this competition, Stephen.

I don't want it

to "come together."

I want it to be glorious!

Glorious!

[Scraping, thud]

[Owl screeches]

There was someone lurking in the churchyard earlier.

Took off when I arrived.

Taking a shortcut, perhaps.

No, don't think so...

whoever it was seemed very anxious

not to be seen.

I think

I'll have the wild mushroom risotto.

Don't suppose you're going to take a risk for once?

I mean, there's

ossobuco, or sweetbreads.

Or there's...

Chicken pie, please.

And another pint of your excellent bitter.

I'll try the ossobuco next time.

Oh, dear...

Give my best to Laurence.

Remind him that it's a lost cause...

Francis Crawford...

he's the conductor of the Aston Wherry choir.

Oh, yes... don't they usually win?

[Doorbell ringing]

Hello, Connor?

Connor?

You there?

Connor?

[Mobile ringing]

[Buzzing]

Woman: Connor?

Connor?

Are you there?

Oh! At last.

[Mobile ringing]

Oh.

Sorry.

[Ringing] It's Jones.

Jones.

Where's that?

Okay, I'll meet you there.

I'm sorry, Joyce. See you at home, okay?

All right, I'll get a cab.

No, I can walk there... take the car.

Oh...

Were you the risotto or the chicken pie?

[Radio chatter]

What's Stephen Latimer doing here?

He found the body, sir, says he picked up

Connor's phone in the church, brought it round to return it.

Well, perhaps he did.

Put someone in the car with him.

He's not a suspect, sir. Who says he's not?

Apart from that, finding a body

can be an upsetting experience... we don't want him

keeling over unattended in a police car, do we?

[Whistles]

George?

Ah, Tom.

It's not difficult...

it was a massive blow to the head.

Extensive trauma, resultant shock,

causing cardiac arrest.

See that?

Tom: Some matted hair...

fragments of scalp.

Smears of blood on the handle up to here...

clean as a whistle from then on.

Killer wiped the handle.

Was there brandy in that glass? Well, it would be, wouldn't it?

You faint, brandy's the best pick-me-up.

Looks like there was a struggle, this got broken.

Mm.

Right.

Let's take a look around.

You found anything?

Did Simpson have a girlfriend, sir?

I've got no idea... why?

Well, it's either that, or, uh...

He was a cross-dresser.

What do you think?

[Mutters]

Anything? Spare bedroom.

And? Looks like it's never used.

Come downstairs... something I want you to see.

Connor Simpson wasn't the only one to have a brandy.

Connor's glass smashed when he fell.

After the attack, the killer brought his own glass...

that one... back here, washed it up, put it away.

And, Jones, There's more, much more.

Look at this.

[Opens garbage can lid]

Jones: Human? No, it's pig's.

Hook it out.

Aw! Oh, come on!

Looks as if our Mr. Simpson

had a more complicated life than anyone imagined.

DC Jones tells me you came round here

to return a mobile phone, is that right?

The door was open...

I called, but no one answered.

And I... saw him.

I thought he'd fainted again.

Then I saw the blood.

Then his mobile phone rang.

The one you found?

Yeah.

Oh...

[Beeps] Who was it?

I don't know.

Was it a man or a woman?

A woman.

She just said, " Hello, Connor, are you there?"

Then she hung up.

Caller's number withheld.

Oh.

Have a look around.

[Beep]

Mr. Latimer...

How well did you know Connor Simpson?

Well, we weren't great friends or anything.

Now, you were there when he fainted, weren't you?

He seemed...

jumpy.

I thought Laurence might be the cause.

He's very eager, isn't he,

to win the Four Choirs competition?

[Laughs]

Look, the Four Choirs competition

is a big issue with Laurence, but...

Francis Crawford's no better.

Why are they such enemies?

Francis was recently appointed organist at Causton Cathedral.

Nice job, nice... stipend.

Nice house in the Cathedral close.

Laurence wanted the job...

he accused Francis of lying on his CV.

And did he?

I wouldn't put it past him.

Hmm...

I used to sing

in the Aston Wherry choir.

I'd have had an easier time as a galley slave.

Is that why you switched allegiance

to Midsomer Worthy?

That's right.

Nothing to do with Carolyn Armitage?

Oh, I'm sorry, I couldn't help noticing,

you know, after the choir practice,

you and she...

Carolyn and I used to be close.

And now she's married.

She made a bad choice.

[Car starts]

Jones: It was spur-of-the-moment,

wasn't it?

Go on.

If the killer had gone round intending to murder Simpson,

he would have taken a weapon with him, but he didn't.

That's why he used the fire iron.

That sounds right to me.

And what about this pig's heart, and the note?

Crime of passion?

Well... people in love do

do desperate things... Hey, look!

There he is again!

Who?

I don't know yet... pull up, stop the car.

Oi! You!

Stop!

[Screeching]

Police! Stop!

Police?

Yes...

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

What are you doing here?

Twitching. What?

I'm a bird watcher... Barn owls are nesting up there

in the hollow tree... I was after a photograph.

I might have got one, too, if you hadn't rushed in,

shouting your head off.

It's Sam Judd, isn't it?!

He's the estate manager at Hartsmede.

Used to be... I was... laid off.

For what reason?

No reason... Giles Armitage fired me.

Reckons he can handle

the estate on his own...

The place is going to rack and ruin!

Damn fool! He deserves all he gets!

Why did you run?

Well, you were chasing me.

I didn't know you were the police.

Funny things happen in graveyards.

Were you here earlier?

No.

Were you here earlier,

going across the graveyard with your tripod?

Not me... I was over at Hartsmede.

There's a pair nesting in a barn.

I've only just got here!

So if it's all the same with you,

I'd like to... Carry on twitching.

Where have you been?

Out.

Where have you been?

Choir practice... as you know.

Stephen Latimer breathing down your neck.

Giles, please,

Stephen and I finished a long time ago.

Not sure he thinks of it like that.

Have you spoken to the bank yet?

I will.

Giles! You fire Sam Judd

without bothering to consult me...

To save money.

Since when, things have only got worse!

This is our home, but it is also a business...

I can't manage on my own.

Caro... you should stop worrying,

for God's sake.

Come to bed.

It'll be fine... I know what I'm doing.

Oh, you're doing something, are you, I hadn't noticed.

I show the punters around, running commentary and all.

In a bored monotone.

I've seen visitors fall asleep standing up.

I didn't sign up for this, Caro.

To be a meet-and-greet monkey.

What did you sign up for, Giles?

Well...

Among other things...

I signed up for this.

[Screeching]

[Mobile ringing]

Woman: Connor? Hello?

Hello?

Connor?

Yes, this is Connor.

[Hangs up]

Who is it?

A very good question...

[Choir singing chorale]

Bach for breakfast, is it?

It's Laurence's instructions.

All yours.

That man is a fanatic.

Oh, what's this? Hand-delivered.

Yeah. God, I'm late.

Mm... you should have something to eat.

You are right.

Hmm?

Thank you. Uh...

[Joyce humming, opening envelope]

[Screams, glass shatters]

Tom!

Tom: Now, either Sam Judd was lying,

or I saw someone else here last night.

Take a look around. Okay, sir.

Is Mrs. Barnaby all right?

Yes, she is... thank you.

She felt less threatened when it turned out

everyone in the choir got the same letter.

Joyce! Have you seen Carolyn?

No... she's probably on her way.

Uh, now, it appears that...

[Murmuring]

Hello!

Thank you.

Now, it seems that everyone

has received a letter like this

with your morning mail.

Now, obviously, we're going to get a statement from each of you

but before that happens, may I offer you a few words of advice?

Best advice might be to withdraw from the competition.

Are you serious?

It's taken weeks to get you anywhere

near competition standard, and you want to chuck it in?

This is a death threat, Laurence!

A death threat!

You don't really think someone's plotting to knock us off

one by one, do you?

It's a practical joke... it's gotta be!

A joke?

Leo, you didn't see Connor

stretched out on the floor

and covered in blood.

There wasn't much to laugh at.

We ought to think carefully

whether to stay in the competition.

You seem very keen to pull out, Stephen.

I'm keen to stay alive!

Oh, please!

I've been a member for six years,

and we've never won the Four Choirs.

Well, seven is my lucky number.

And I'm going to sing.

All right... all right!

Let's see a show of hands.

Good.

Good!

Now all we need is another tenor.

Uh, George... George...

When's the post-mortem?

Tomorrow... full report the day after that.

I could give you the results over dinner.

What dinner?

Dinner, your place,

Joyce and Kath arranged it.

Oh, that dinner! Yes.

Yes...

Mr. Clarke...

We do need to take statements

from everyone who received a letter,

including you, sir.

Just stepped out for a smoke.

Yeah...

You were standing next to Connor Simpson,

weren't you, when he fainted?

Had he said anything

about, you know, feeling unwell?

Not a word.

Do you think he was anxious about something?

Well, if he was, he wouldn't have said anything to me.

He was just an acquaintance,

someone I saw in choir practice.

How long have you been a member of the choir, then?

Awhile.

Jones: Sir?

Have a look at this.

Tom: Sam Judd's tripod?

That's what I thought when I found this, but why here?

You're right.

From this position...

he can't see the hollow tree.

Get statements from the choir members,

meet me up at the hall in half an hour.

I want to find out why

Carolyn Armitage wasn't at the meeting.

So, why would he put his camera here?

I've got no idea, Jones.

But I look forward to hearing your theory.

Caro!

You say every member of the choir got one?

Yes, all of us.

Well, then it's obviously someone with

a warped sense of humor and too much time on their hands.

Caro, we need to talk.

[Clock chimes]

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,

sorry to have kept you... Giles Armitage.

Afternoon, sir. Afternoon.

I was hoping to have a word with your wife.

About Connor Simpson's death, I imagine.

We were so shocked

when we heard about it.

Look, I'm afraid Carolyn's out

on the estate somewhere.

With her mobile phone?

No signal, I'm afraid.

Can I give her a message?

Yes, yes, you can...

could you ask her, please,

if she'd get in touch with me as soon as possible?

On that number.

Of course.

Haven't been robbed, have you?

[Giles chuckles]

In a manner of speaking...

they're in London being reframed or cleaned.

Costs a small fortune.

Oh, thank you.

How do you think I felt?

Coming back and finding you'd married?

I don't know how you felt... I know how I felt.

Feelings change, Stephen.

People change.

Look, we're in sight of the hall... you better go.

If Giles sees you, there'll be trouble.

Giles... Giles can go straight to Hell.

It's a wasted journey, Jones.

Apparently, Mrs. Armitage is unavailable.

Isn't that her?

Tom: Yes, it is. That's Stephen Latimer with her.

Giles: You're trespassing, Latimer.

Get off my land.

And stay away from my wife.

Oh, for God's sake, Giles!

You know how pathetic you look?

Hanging around her like her whipped dog.

Oh...

Stop them, Jones, before someone gets hurt.

Hey!

Come on, you two.

Come on...

Whoa!

All right! That's enough!

You all right?

Absolutely wonderful, sir.

What are you waiting for?

A drying wind.

And permission to go home and change, sir.

Well, my place is closer than yours...

unfortunately.

[Car starting]

Sam Judd hiking across the estate as if he owns it.

He's bird-watching, Giles...

Hartsmede's a second home to him.

Not now... tell him to keep off.

[Telephone ringing]

Carolyn Armitage.

Oh, hello.

What...

Yes.

Well, yes, all right, I can meet you there,

but tell me...

Okay.

[Clock ticking]

No, I won't say anything, but why...

What?

Oh, good lord!

I bought that...

When you were a lot slimmer!

Which is why it might fit Ben.

Jones: ♪ O sole mio ♪

♪ La la la la la ♪

♪ O sole mio ♪

♪ La la la la ♪

♪ O sole ♪

♪ O sole mio ♪

♪ Love you forever ♪

♪ La la la la! ♪ ♪

A tenor!

[Dog barking in distance]

Right, let's go and have a chat with Laurence Barker.

Does it fit?

Yes, sir, it does, yeah.

Unfortunately.

The choir is short of a tenor.

Mrs. Barnaby heard you singing in the bath.

She thinks you would be a useful addition to the choir.

And so do I...

in more ways than one.

No, no, there must be some other way.

There must!

All right, all right, all right, it's your call.

But, listen... no, listen,

leave it to me.

Laurence: Of course, the business with Connor Simpson

is terrible... they say that he surprised a burglar.

Well, it's a possibility, yes.

Have you noticed any difference in Connor recently?

He seemed a little...

well, short-tempered,

when he recovered from his faint.

Really? Really? Um...

Just a sea of faces to me.

And a sound.

At the moment it's a sound that could stand some improvement.

Hmm.

Look, I know there's always been

a friendly rivalry between the choirs,

but just lately it seems more like musical warfare.

Well, I'll think you'll find that Crawford

is responsible for that.

Is he? In what way?

He's pompous, he's aggressive, he's smug.

And he's a pretty poor conductor.

Who landed the plum job of organist at Causton Cathedral.

With a dubious CV and a sycophantic smile.

Well...

Tell me, Mr. Barker,

if the Aston Wherry choir is such a thorn in your flesh,

why have you got a picture of their church on your wall?

Not my choice.

I bought it.

This is my wife... Ellen.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,

Detective Constable Jones, Causton CID.

Mrs. Barker.

Isn't it one of Connor Simpson's?

The tower's embedded with flint.

He liked the way the light struck it.

Were you a friend?

Why do you ask that?

Mrs. Barker?

No, not really.

I like his work,

Laurence doesn't.

Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt,

I just came to pick up these.

Jones: Is that you..."Rainbow"?

Mm..."Children's Entertainer."

Birthday parties, mainly.

Are you the fairy on the front?

Fairy, pixie, butterfly... whatever you order.

My personal choice was Ophelia,

but, um...

The Royal Shakespeare Company weren't very impressed.

Come to think of it, nor were the Causton Players.

Laurence: I hear you're a useful lyric tenor.

Why don't you come to the next rehearsal?

We'll find out how good you are.

[Owl hooting]

Do you think there was some tension

between Mr. And Mrs. Barker?

Oh, just a bit.

She'd been crying. How could you tell?

I've been married a long time, Jones.

[Door closes]

He knows something's wrong... Barnaby.

He knows we've got something to hide.

Things could be the way they were.

No one has to know.

If Crawford hadn't lied, and wheedled,

to cheat me out of the Cathedral job,

things could have been different.

A new start for us.

No.

It's too late.

Oh, I'm sick of hearing that.

And I'm sick of Aston-bloody-Wherry church!

[Door opens]

[Door opens]

[Closes]

I thought choir practice would be over by now.

Laurence will still be there,

the least I can do is make my apologies.

Give it a miss.

We could, uh... we could make a meal.

Get a bit drunk...

Talk...

Like it used to be.

It'll never be like it used to be.

[Choir singing in Latin]

Yes, well,

it's a passable voice.

It's richer than Connor's, so that's all to the good.

He's a charmer, isn't he?

You've noticed.

Right, uh, I daresay you all want to get away,

so let's just have one last go

at our Farmer piece.

[Chimes tuning fork]

[Geese honking]

[Starts engine]

♪ Fair Phylis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountainside ♪

♪ Fair Phylis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountainside ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not, they knew not ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not whither she was gone ♪

♪ La la la la la la... ♪

♪ But after her lover, but after her lover ♪

♪ Amyntas hied ♪

♪ La la la la la la... ♪

[Shutter clicks]

[Flash recharging, film rewinding]

[Click]

[Gunshot, geese squawking]

Sam!

[Screaming]

[Radio chatter]

Bullard: Been here for a while... 15 hours, maybe more.

Give you a better estimate after the post-mortem.

Method?

Shot from close range with a 12-bore.

Standard game loading, by the look of it...

everyone round here uses that.

No sign of a cartridge, I suppose.

Ah, you're thinking fingerprints? No.

I don't think he was shot here; in fact, I'm sure of it.

What, the body was moved?

When the heart stops pumping, blood stops flowing.

There's no significant blood spill here.

There was no rain here last night, was there?

Exactly. May I?

Oh, jeez... I know.

Crows... they always go for the eyes.

Sir!

We need some socos. Straightaway, sir.

Looks like he was dragged through here.

Tom: Didn't find his camera, did you?

Not in the churchyard, sir.

I suppose you'd better ask permission

to search on Hartsmede lands.

Sorry, Jones, didn't quite catch what you said there.

That's blood.

Take a look.

[Owl screeching]

Sir...

Sam Judd's hat.

Killed here...

then moved.

Somebody improvising.

Yeah. Step back.

I found this...

in the photographic vest

Sam Judd was wearing... get it developed

as soon as possible, yeah?

And get a search warrant for the Hartsmede estate.

Sir?

Retrospective authorization.

[Mobile phone beeps]

Carolyn: Giles...

Giles!

Is that you? Go back to sleep.

You'll feel better if you sleep.

I can't remember...

What?

Anything.

Am I ill? Why am I in bed!

No, no, no, you must rest.

You'll feel better if you rest.

Mr. Barnaby.

I hope you haven't come

to talk to my wife again...

only she's, um...

Sam Judd was killed yesterday,

Mr. Armitage.

Killed? God. Jones: He was murdered.

He was taking photographs of owls

roosting in your barn when he was attacked.

He was murdered on my land?

I'm afraid so, yes.

Then maybe, um... He used to be

our estate manager.

Maybe he fell foul of the local poachers.

God, this is terrible.

I've really come to give you a warning.

What?

Put you on your guard.

Oh, yes... yes, thank you.

And to ask if we can have a look round the estate...

looking for possible forensic evidence, all right?

Whatever you need.

Thank you.

So, uh, will we be seeing Mrs. Armitage

at choir practice tonight?

Oh, I'm afraid not. She, um...

rolled the quad bike out on the estate.

Bad concussion.

Is she all right?

No, she's fine, but the doctor's prescribed

[Mobile rings] A strong sedative, she's dead to the world.

Hello, Jones. What?

Jones: Right. Yeah.

Just stay where you are. We're on the way.

There's been a break-in at Connor Simpson's cottage, sir.

You were supposed to put a watch on that place.

Apparently a house alarm started up nearby,

the PC went to investigate, came back

to see someone running off.

He was only gone for a few minutes.

Best take this out.

It'll only disturb you.

You're running some checks

on Connor Simpson, weren't you? Any results?

Complete blank, sir.

It's as if he didn't exist

before he moved to Midsomer Worthy.

And now someone burgles the dead man's cottage.

Looking for what?

Every man keeps something of his past, Jones.

Who were you going to call, anyway?

I forget.

Who's to blame? Is it me?

Is it you?

I don't know.

Well... somebody's to blame.

Then it must be me.

[Scoffs]

Tom: Any luck? Jones: Nothing, sir.

Photos of the area, mostly.

Maybe he used them as a reference for his paintings.

And some of the man himself.

Hmm.

Well, maybe we've been looking in the wrong places.

Okay, uh...

Put that one

on the police computer.

Get someone down to the morgue to take his fingerprints.

Well, well!

Either Simpson himself

removed these photographs for some reason, or...

The break-in.

Yeah. Where'd you find this album?

Over there.

[Crowd chattering]

This is Ellen Barker, I can't take your call,

but leave a message and I'll get back to you.

Hi, it's me, Ellen, um...

we have to talk.

I know things have happened... bad things,

but there's nothing anyone can do to change that now.

[Whispering] I'm scared...

I'm really scared. Everything's gone wrong.

It's all such a mess...

Sir? Pint of bitter

and a large brandy.

Thank you.

What's that?

Large brandy... Love life not going well,

impending defeat in the Four Choirs.

You need something to keep your spirits up.

You'll be the one drowning your sorrows.

Oh, I don't think so! Experience will tell,

Barker.

Oh, if you're working with amateurs,

it's a good idea to steer away from the more difficult pieces

in the repertoire.

How do you know we're singing something difficult?

It's always the desperate man

who makes that sort of mistake.

No. No, no no...

You've got someone reporting back to you.

A spy. Oh, dear!

You are getting paranoid.

Drink up.

Sir? Pint of bitter and a large brandy.

[Laughing]

You can't win by honest means, so you cheat.

Just like the Cathedral job.

Fake a CV, ingratiate yourself with the dean.

Anything else, sir?

Nothing so sad as a poor loser.

I got the job because I'm a better musician than you,

and will win the Four Choirs for just the same reason,

so I don't need this, thanks all the same.

Oh... this isn't for you.

This is for you.

[Patrons gasp]

[Glass shatters]

I'll kill you, Barker!

I'll kill you!

[Door opens, closes]

Mr. Crawford?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.

You took your time.

That's nasty.

It was a completely unprovoked attack,

I hope you've arrested him.

I'm sure that would suit your purpose, the Four Choirs

competition being just a day or so away,

but I've read the witness statements,

and "unprovoked"

is not how they describe it.

So we won't be bringing any charges against either of you.

That's outrageous.

I shall take the matter further.

[Chuckles] Please feel free, sir.

But I wonder how the dean and chapter

would feel about their organist being involved in

a pub brawl...

You have a very pleasant living here, don't you, sir?

You're very lucky.

Luck wasn't the issue.

It was talent.

And a very impressive CV...

I'm told.

[Choir singing in Latin]

Well, it's not perfect.

But it's not a complete disaster, either.

Right, let's see what we can do with the madrigal piece.

Is that what passes for praise?

It is where Laurence Barker's concerned.

Right, so, I'll give you the note if I...

Where's my...

Right.

[Strikes fork]

♪ Fair Phylis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountainside ♪

[Door opens] ♪ Fair Phylis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountainside ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not, they knew not ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not whither she was gone ♪

♪ La la la la la la... ♪

♪ But after her lover... ♪

Carolyn!

Whoa.

Who's that?

It's "Johann Sebastian Bach,"

by Elias Gottlieb Haussmann.

It's a local treasure, so we thought we'd put it

on the front of our program.

"Local"?

The original's up at Hartsmede Hall...

it's their prime exhibit.

You said she was pointing.

No... well,

she seemed to.

At what? The choir.

Anyone in particular?

Not that I could see.

And Leo Clarke caught her when she fainted.

Yes... luckily.

Wonder who she was pointing at.

Well, why don't you ask her?

Tom: I'm going to try... When I called the hall just now,

Giles Armitage informed me

that she was seeing a specialist sometime tomorrow morning,

and she might be available to speak to me after that.

[Beeping]

Still nothing on Connor Simpson, sir.

Real mystery man.

You've circulated his photo and the prints?

We're standing in line... as usual.

Keep at it. He was an artist, wasn't he?

Why don't you try the art world?

Dealers, galleries, that sort of stuff.

Oh!

Laurence Barker

used his tuning fork at rehearsals last night.

Oh, did he, indeed?

Oh! Tom!

Tom!

Hiya.

That's lucky... you can get the wine.

Joyce, I'm on police business.

It's just the wine!

I'm not asking you to cook dinner.

All right, all right... What are you giving 'em?

I haven't decided yet.

Ossobuco and sweetbreads, perhaps.

What, bones and offal?

Doesn't George get enough of that at work?

[Chuckles]

Don't get any cheap stuff!

Carol?

Hmm? Drink this.

It'll make you feel better.

Drink it!

You have to drink it!

[Drinking]

I'm so sorry...

Tom: I assume, George,

that the post-mortem on Connor Simpson was routine.

He was a perfectly healthy chap,

apart from the fractured skull, of course.

I gather he wasn't the only one to pass out in church?

I rang Giles Armitage to find out how Carolyn was.

Is she better?

Under sedation.

You were there, George, weren't you?

What's your professional opinion, then...

what did you think about it?

I didn't examine her.

Husband wanted to get her home. But she seemed unfocused.

There was a sort of foggy look around the eyes.

I'd have thought it was something more powerful

than a mere sedative.

Tom, this wine is spectacular!

What is it?

Good grief!

This must have cost 20 quid a bottle!

£25... no cheap stuff here.

Kath...

I don't suppose that Carolyn Armitage

is with your practice by any chance, is she?

I know what you're asking me to do, Tom,

and it's strictly unethical.

Yes, but will you do it?

I expect you'd get some sort of warrant

if I said no, wouldn't you?

Definitely. [All chuckle]

Joyce: It's our last rehearsal tomorrow.

I'd love it if you came, tell me what you think.

What, me? You'd trust my ear, would you?

I'd trust you to say what you think.

[Dialing]

[Ringing]

Hi, this Cully. I'm not here at the moment,

so please leave a message.

[Beep] Hello, darling!

Just confirming the weekend.

So good you're going to be here

for the choir competition...

I'm getting nervous already.

See you then!

Bye!

Speed dial. What?

Speed dial.

[Mobile ringing]

Eh... [Ringing continues]

Oh.

Hello?

Oh, Tom, it's Kath.

I checked her records.

You said that Giles Armitage claimed

his wife had seen a doctor?

Well, it wasn't a doctor from this surgery.

And no one here has ever

prescribed her tranquilizers or sleeping pills.

Thank you.

Oh... you didn't hear it from me.

Oh, no.

Is this going to take long?

I'm trying to prepare the concert.

Just long enough to warn you

about the penalties for common assault, sir.

Oh... Francis Crawford went bleating

to the police, trying to get me arrested?

He made a complaint, but I don't think it will come to anything.

I'd like to break his neck. [Mobile beeps]

Oh, please don't, sir... nose was quite enough.

[Ringing]

Aah! What is it?

It's Connor!

Oh, for God's sake, Ellen, Connor's dead!

Tom: It's not

Connor... though I know how much

you'd like it to be him.

Uh...

party glitter.

Found some of that

in Connor's cottage.

In the bath.

It started as an affair.

Just sex, plain and simple.

Except it was

neither plain...

nor simple, really.

He was mad about me.

He wanted me to go away with him.

And I wanted so much to get away from here...

I knew he had secrets...

he would never talk about the past.

Wasn't the past I cared about, it was the future.

We'll have enough money to start a new life.

The life you deserve.

Tom: Did he tell you where the money was coming from?

No.

And to be honest, I didn't much care.

I'm sorry.

I should have left you

years ago.

Failed actress...

failed wife...

Things could be different, Ellen.

Even now.

I don't...

Iove you.

I don't know

that I ever did.

I'm in love...

with a dead man.

[Door opens, closes]

Laurence?

You dropped this...

Connor Simpson's cottage.

No, no, no... no.

Here's mine.

There's only one music shop in Causton,

and they know you very well.

You bought

a new tuning fork two days ago.

There was a police watch on the place.

I thought I'd have to give up.

[Bird calls]

[Alarm blaring]

I knew I didn't have much time, I just wanted to destroy

any evidence of Ellen's affair with Connor.

I didn't want you to find out about it,

I didn't want anyone to find out about it...

I thought that, with Connor dead,

then perhaps Ellen and I could...

I still love her, Mr. Barnaby.

And I didn't kill Connor.

No...

No, I don't believe you did.

Mr. Barnaby?

What will happen to Connor's things?

To his possessions?

Oh, well, that depends on whether he made a will,

whether he's got relatives...

There's a painting of Midsomer Down...

he did it for me, he told me so.

He had it framed the day before he died.

We used to meet on the downs,

it was a special place for us.

Please...

[Vehicle approaches]

Carol.

[Choir singing]

George: Our conductor is not a happy man.

And with good reason.

Hey, Jones... look, there!

Tripod marks we found on the tomb.

Audio surveillance.

Twitching, with a difference.

"Knowledge is power," have I got that right?

You eavesdrop on Midsomer Worthy choir,

and that gives you the edge.

It helps to know what kind of standard you're up against.

And?

Well...

Midsomer Worthy are good...

but not good enough.

You'll do anything to win, won't you?

Sneaking around the church

with your expensive surveillance gear...

Tom: Playing postman

in the dead of night.

And please don't put me to the bother

of getting a DNA saliva test,

because that doesn't come cheap, either.

Barker has been accusing me of doctoring my CV

to get the Cathedral job.

All lies, of course...

but I need to win this competition!

I need to show people that I don't have to cheat,

I'm a good conductor... very!

And sending death threats

is just part of the game, is it?

I'll be charging you with issuing those death threats.

Oh, Barnaby, please...

And if you're very lucky...

you might get bail.

Did you eavesdrop

on every Midsomer Worthy choir rehearsal?

So you'd be snooping around Midsomer Worthy

on the night that Connor Simpson was murdered?

Y-you don't think I had anything to do with that.

Yes, I know what's at stake,

and, yes, I know what has to be done.

No!

Stay away.

Leave it to me.

Leave it to me...

Morning, sir. Morning.

Ah, sir.

What? Sam Judd's photos back from the lab.

Oh, at last!

[Clicking]

These were on the front of the film.

[Beep]

Tom: Giles Armitage, Connor Simpson.

And Leo Clarke!

Judd was following them,

wasn't he?

Make the record of their meetings.

It looks like.

So Judd might have taken

other photographs like this, wouldn't he?

Jones: Yes, but...

Who's that?

Jones: Carolyn Armitage.

Must have been on her way to meet him.

Tom: So if Judd had picked up his photos from the high street,

and was on his way to show them to Carolyn Armitage...

He was killed for those photos.

Jones: And look at this.

Tom: Who's that?

Is that Giles Armitage?

We've got to talk to Mrs. Armitage.

However indisposed she may be.

Giles: Come on, here we go.

That's right.

Just keep walking.

It's gonna be fine.

It's all going to be just fine.

That's right...

a few more steps.

A few more steps.

That's right...

That's right, darling.

That's right, keep going.

Keep going.

Keep going, baby.

That's right, just keep walking.

Look!

Right.

Mr. Armitage...

When did you first decide that you had to kill her?

You've got it wrong, Barnaby.

I've got it wrong, have I?

You just tried to drown your wife.

No!

She was trying to kill herself.

I was trying to save her.

You ran off.

I wasn't running from you, I...

I didn't even know you were there,

I was running to get help... I can't swim.

That's going to be your story?

It's not a story, it's the truth.

I want to speak to my solicitor.

And so you shall, Mr. Armitage, so you shall.

In the meantime, I'm arresting you,

and later on I'll be charging you

with the attempted murder of your wife.

Get him out of here.

Let's go.

Sir, we might have finally

come up with a match on Connor Simpson.

Seems he did have a past, after all.

His name wasn't "Simpson," it was "Pearson."

Connor Pearson.

And he had form, too...

went down for five, served three.

What for?

Art forgery.

Seems he specialized in old masters.

Did he, now?

Is there still a 24-hour watch on his cottage?

Yeah.

Lift it.

Remove all the "scene of crime" tape.

Make a show of it.

I can't remember.

I mean, just moments, fragments.

You were being drugged with Rohypnol.

Short-term memory loss is one of the side effects.

Why would he drug me?

We know you were on your way

to meet Sam when he was killed.

It seems pretty certain

that Sam was going to show you photographs like these.

He must have thought they would mean something to you.

But what?

I knew Giles gambled, I knew he had money problems.

Did you know Connor Simpson and Leo Clarke

were friends of your husband's?

No.

But what difference does it make?

I'm not sure.

[Sighs]

Will it come back, my memory? I hope so.

At the moment, we're as much in the dark as you.

So...

are you telling me he tried to kill me?

Poor Giles.

[Door opens]

Is she all right?

She will be.

They said I could go in once you'd left.

So why don't you? She needs a friend right now.

Shouldn't Laurence have arrived by now?

And where's your father!

He'll be here.

Man: Got it.

Yes.

Pastel sketch by Elias Gottlieb Haussmann,

his portrait of

Johann Sebastian Bach, am I right,

Mr. Clarke?

Hey.

We're on last...

gives us a chance to assess the opposition.

Shouldn't Laurence be here by now?

[Sighs]

I'm bankrupt.

So for you, it was the business?

Connor Simpson wanted to start a new life

with Ellen Barker, and Giles Armitage...

Had to be Giles Armitage, didn't it?

Because he had access to the Haussmann.

Leo: Gambling...

There's where we all met.

I don't think Giles was a bad player, really,

he just... he just never got

the run of the cards.

We all went to a bar one night after a game... we'd all lost,

but, phew, Giles was in for thousands.

You could always sell Hartsmede.

I'd sell the bloody Haussmann...

except Carolyn would never agree.

What's the Haussmann?

Picture Carolyn inherited.

Famous, unique... worth a packet.

Leo: I knew that Connor was a painter,

but I didn't know he'd done time for forgery.

So its absence would be noticed.

Definitely.

Unless there were two of it.

Tom: So it was a conspiracy, wasn't it?

Between the three of you.

Armitage removed the picture, saying it was being reframed

along with several others that needed attention.

Connor Simpson was to copy it,

and your job was to ship it out.

Giles already had a buyer in America.

Jones: And Armitage would replace

the portrait with a copy.

But things didn't go quite according to plan, did they?

Because Connor Simpson had ideas of his own.

Once he got hold of the pastel,

Connor realized he didn't have to keep

his side of the deal.

He could keep the original.

And what could we do about it?

Very clever.

It's being clever that got him killed.

Tom: So you upped the pressure on him...

threats, pig's heart...

But things got out of hand, didn't they?

And you found yourself capable of cold-blooded murder.

Leo: I came round to the cottage after choir practice.

No, sorry.

I was going to talk to him.

But he wasn't having it.

What are you gonna do?

Go to the police?

Tell them I've stolen something you already stole?

[Laughing]

[Telephone rings]

Tom: And after you'd killed him,

you washed up your brandy glass

and put it away.

Leo: And then I started looking for the pastel.

When Stephen Latimer arrived,

I, uh...

I ran out the back way.

[Vehicle approaching]

And Sam Judd?

He'd started by following Giles,

trying to get evidence of his gambling.

Some sort of revenge for having been sacked, I suppose.

[Shutter clicks]

Tom: The three of you were meeting on a regular basis,

and you smelt a conspiracy.

And those photographs he took,

they were potentially damning evidence.

Leo: He had a shot of us with the Haussmann.

[Shutter clicks]

It's what he told Carolyn.

It's very impressive... how long will it take to,

um, to finish it?

Two or three weeks.

Can't you do it quicker than that?

Tom: So, after one murder, a second

didn't seem so difficult.

[Shotgun clicks]

Carolyn Armitage went to meet Judd,

and she heard the shot.

[Carolyn screaming]

Leo: We didn't know what to do.

Giles took her back to the hall,

but we realized we couldn't keep her

under lock-and-key for long.

And then I had the idea of chemical handcuffs.

Rohypnol.

Leo: It seemed to work fine.

She didn't know

what day it was.

But we realized we couldn't keep her drugged forever.

It'll have to look like an accident.

Good.

[Siren wails]

It's getting late, sir.

Oh, yes, yes, you go to the church, Jones.

I'll put Johann Sebastian under lock and key...

and there's a couple of things I need to do.

Ben, have you seen...

Yeah, he's on his way. Laurence?

No, Mr. Barnaby.

What about Laurence?

You want to know how you get to the point

where you're going to kill your wife?

It happens... bit by bit,

like a game of Consequences.

You get married, and... you're happy.

Then, after a while, you're...

not quite so happy.

In fact, things aren't working out

the way you thought they would.

You think running an estate is glamorous?

[Chuckles]

You're a farm laborer, you're a navvy.

And then when the season starts,

you're a bloody tour guide.

So you...

Iook for ways to take the edge off.

A diversion.

It could be booze... or women...

or gambling.

You win a little, you lose a little.

Then you lose a little more,

then you lose a lot,

and so you come up with a plan.

A victimless crime.

But the plan goes wrong.

Not just once.

It keeps going wrong.

And you're making it up

as you go along.

And then suddenly...

out of nowhere,

you're making up the bit where someone has to die.

Why Carolyn...

has to die.

There is another version of that story.

The one in which there are no excuses.

Where on earth is Laurence?

Cully, could you see if you can find out what's happened?

It's too late... we're on.

What are you going to do?

Withdraw, I suppose?

Your conductor gone missing?

Oh, sparing himself the humiliation, perhaps.

Well, he knew you couldn't win.

[Chuckles]

Oh, for heaven's sake!

We know these pieces backwards.

All that hard work? All the bullying

from Laurence?

It's only a matter of beating time!

Come on, we can do this!

Go on, Mum.

Come on!

Oh...

You're on police bail, remember.

See you very soon.

[Applause]

There you go.

Needs reframing, I'm afraid.

Thank you. Hope it doesn't cause

any friction.

Laurence has gone.

He's gone?

Yes, he...

finally accepted that it's over between us.

He packed a few things and left.

But what about the choir? The competition?

He said...

He said he didn't care.

♪ Up and down he wandered, whilst she was missing ♪

♪ Whilst she was missing, when he ♪

♪ Found her ♪

♪ O then they fell a-kissing ♪

♪ O then they fell ♪

♪ A-kissing a-kissing ♪

♪ O then they fell a-kissing ♪

♪ Up and down, up and down, up and down ♪

♪ Up and down, up and down, up and down ♪

♪ Up and down, up and down, up and down ♪

♪ Up and down he wandered, Up and down he wandered ♪

♪ Up and down he wandered ♪

♪ Whilst she was missing ♪

♪ Whilst she was missing ♪

♪ When he found her ♪

♪ O then they fell a-kissing ♪

♪ O then they fell ♪

♪ A-kissing, a-kissing ♪

♪ O then they fell a-kissing ♪ ♪

[Applause]

Man: I'm sure we all agree,

having heard all the performances,

that the deserving winners

of the Four Choirs trophy

are Midsomer Worthy.

Well done.

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media