Original subtitles

JOLLY MUSIC

DUCK CLUCKS NEARBY

Morning, Selwyn.

QUACKING

There's no hot water!

OK. I'll come and take a look.

MUSIC DISTORTS AND SLOWS TO A STOP

And the carpet's all wet in here!

I think we've sprung a leak, or...

Right.

I think the most important thing...

...is to not... panic.

We need to think logically.

Does the engine work?

Engine! Brilliant!

Ohh... Ah.

Oh!

CLATTERING

Humphrey, are you all right?

I'm fine! OK...

CLANKING

Ah...

What's that?

I'm not entirely sure.

It's dripping oil.

Have we got life jackets?

Well, I didn't think we'd need them.

You know, being parked up.

Wood!

We could make a raft.

MARTHA SCREAMS

Humphrey?!

I need two pencils and a pair of underpants, please.

Oh!

Oh...

Morning!

Dad?

SWITCH CLICKS ON AND OFF

Dad?

Dad?!

SHE GASPS

HORN BLOWS

HORN BLOWS

CHEERING

What happened? We were really worried.

Yes. The mooring rope snapped,

and the current dragged us out to sea, Kelby.

Thank heavens for the RNLI. Yes.

Oh! Anne said to phone her the second you get back.

Er, you all right, sir?

Yes.

Oh, it's, er... It's just a bump.

Um, I...

Only, you're needed.

Esther's gone on ahead.

Where? Kenneth Linder's house.

Oh, sir! Sir!

Oh, yes. I'm so sorry. Yes.

There we go, there we go. I do apologise.

Yes.

Up here, sir!

HE SIGHS

Are you OK? How's Martha?

We're both fine, thank you.

Oh, Kenneth.

You know, I only spoke to him last night.

Oh, of course. You went to the book signing.

Yes. Here we are.

I'm still not sure this qualifies as a date.

In my defence, I was coerced

into your Mamma Mia! karaoke night.

Coerced? Well, maybe not coerced,

but if those photos ever get into the wrong hands...

Right, here we are.

So, consider this payback.

This week sees the launch

of the new Kenneth Linder novel, The Final Breath.

Now, since he's moved to Shipton Abbott,

we are brazenly claiming him as one of our own.

So, as your new local councillor

and treasurer of the Devon Literary Group,

I would like you all to give a huge welcome

to our guest, Kenneth Linder.

His daughter Helen found him in the bath.

The electric fan in the water at his feet.

It looks like he's been here all night.

Looks like the power tripped eventually,

but not quick enough to save him.

Well, this is something of a conundrum.

Why? Because in his latest novel, serial killer Jeremy Cook

is walking to the electric chair,

which is where the last book left him,

but it turns out he bribed the guard to short-circuit the prison power,

therefore delaying his execution until the next day.

Hmm.

But, that night he murdered the guard that helped him

and stole his uniform to escape.

Nice. Then...

...he found the judge that sentenced him

and, like his nine previous victims, killed him...

...by dropping an electrical appliance into his bath.

Hmm.

HUMPHREY SIGHS

Thank you, Sergeant.

Hmm... Ah, yes.

We've got something outside, too.

Trampled flowerbed by an open rear door.

We did a quick check,

and the footprints are probably male,

judging by size and weight,

but they're not an obvious match

for any of the footwear found in the house.

We've taken moulds, but there's a difference in indent depth,

so we're pretty sure

whoever made them had a distinct limp.

Limp? Yeah.

Much less weight put on his left leg.

The main road runs across the back of the garden,

so someone could have got over the fence and along this path.

Cameras? Er, nothing this side.

Doorbell camera at the front.

We've got him being dropped off last night

by his daughter Helen,

and then her coming back this morning.

I know you, don't I?

From the, er, book signing last night.

You were with your father. That's right. DI Goodman.

Er, Humphrey Goodman. Ah.

A huge fan. Ah.

This is my fian... Um, my... my wife, Martha.

Hi. Hi.

So, Humphrey, do you have a favourite case?

Oh, yes. The first of the Bathtub trilogy,

Death By Design. The bottle-top MacGuffin -

genius.

Oh! Thank you.

Wait...

...you're not Detective Humphrey Goodman?

Yes. How'd you know that? Well...

I'm something of a fan of yours, too.

I read the newspaper report about the case you solved,

the poor chap murdered by his partner,

made to look like a car crash.

Yeah.

Brilliant! Thank you!

THEY ALL CHUCKLE

KENNETH SCRIBBLES

Well, a pleasure to meet you, Humphrey.

And you, Martha.

Thank you.

This must be difficult for you. Is there family we can call?

No, it's just me and Dad.

Are you up to a few questions, Helen?

I'll try.

When was the last time you saw your father...

...before this morning?

Last night. I dropped him home after the book signing.

Promise me you'll have an early night.

Oh... A nightcap first, I think.

One. At least!

Love you.

Love you, too.

ESTHER: And how did he seem in himself?

Quiet.

But I know he was tired.

Can I ask, was your dad a particularly tidy man?

Tidy?

God, no!

He was bloody-minded,

intelligent, playful,

and a rather wonderful father.

But tidy? No.

There's something else you need to know.

He was dying.

He had end-stage amyloidosis,

an abnormal build-up of proteins.

Stops his organs working properly.

Said he refused to die until he'd finished his damn book.

But... he'd been going downhill pretty rapidly

these past few weeks.

We knew it wouldn't be long.

But this...

Do you think he took his own life?

Do you?

I know he was in a lot of pain,

but he refused the palliative care he was offered.

People are coming in.

Are you sure you're up to this, Dad?

Stop fussing.

I'm strong as an ox.

We need to take care of your dad,

so you might be better at home.

They'll take him to the chapel of rest,

and I promise I'll call and let you know when he's there.

Thank you.

DOOR CLOSES

Do you think that's it?

He did this himself?

There was a towel, neatly folded by the side of the bath.

Dressing gown and slippers ready.

So, why go to all that trouble

if you know you'll never be getting out of the bath?

Exactly. So, it has to be an accident.

Hmm, possibly.

Wait...

...you're thinking it's murder?

We should consider it. Why?

Because the victim wrote murder mystery novels?

No, Sergeant, because there are some things

that don't make sense. Such as?

Well, it's all rather neat, don't you think?

Too neat, perhaps, for a man not known for his tidiness.

That's it?

It was... too neat?

So what if someone put those things in place

to make it look like an accident?

And what about the fact that he died

in exactly the way described in his own book?

Can we really accept that's just a coincidence?

No.

So, if we can rule out suicide,

accident and coincidence - which we can,

because there's no such thing -

then what happened to Kenneth Linder must be by design.

Let's confirm cause of death.

Let Forensics finish up.

And I want an electrical report.

Why didn't the power trip out immediately?

Oh, and have his clothes checked, too.

See if this belongs to any of them, please?

OK. Thank you.

And we should talk to his agent. Yes.

DOOR CLOSES

Ha...

"PM."

Pothole Pete was on the RNLI boat.

He said, if they overslept,

they could have ended up in Guernsey.

"Pothole Pete"?

Oh, they call him that because people try to avoid him.

He goes on a bit!

PHONE RINGS Oh!

Shipton Abbott.

No, that's not here.

The press office is at the hub, darling.

Do you need the number?

No problem.

Bye!

OK. I've got a criminal damage,

and also an assault on a shopkeeper in town.

I'll be a couple of hours.

OK.

PHONE RINGS

Shipton Abbott.

As his agent, you knew he was ill.

Of course.

But it wasn't public knowledge?

It's the way Kenny wanted it. He's a very...

He was a very proud man.

He didn't want people fawning over him.

I, um... I saw you at the book signing last night.

How did he seem to you?

Oh, sweetheart!

You were wonderful.

Calm...

...considering this was his last roll of the dice.

Why do you say that?

His last book was a decade ago, and...

...that did appallingly.

Obviously, he couldn't get a publishing deal,

so started borrowing against the house

so that he could write this one.

He was in financial difficulty?

This book was his last chance of avoiding bankruptcy.

He kept his money problems from Helen, of course.

He didn't want her to worry about that

on top of everything else.

They seem very close.

They lost Helen's mum when she was seven,

so it's only ever really been the two of them.

Everything Kenny ever did, he did for her.

But Mr Linder confided in you about his financial difficulty.

I'm his agent. Goes with the territory.

Oh, can I ask...

Er...

Um, do the initials "PM" mean anything to you?

No. Should they?

No.

There was another man at the book signing last night.

He didn't look like a fan, but I saw you speaking to him.

That would be Ken's publisher, Anthony Westley.

Nice to see you pushed the boat out, Anthony.

I think your client's Oxford Street soirees

were over a long time ago.

Don't you? He's made you a lot of money.

He's made us all a lot of money, dear heart,

but I'm slightly surprised that, as a literary agent,

you don't understand the use of the past tense.

Your loyalty is staggering.

Jump off your high horse, will you?

He's washed up.

We're both just hovering, waiting for him to die,

so we can revive his back catalogue.

Not the nicest man.

No, his time was over,

metaphorically speaking.

People are just not buying his books any more.

And yet, you still published this latest novel?

True, but on very, very different terms.

No advance. And on the condition

that he brought back the Bathtub Murders trilogy.

They were his most successful books, so I thought

they will guarantee our best chance of a return.

But with no advance, would that mean

that he was writing for free, essentially?

Yes, but he would get the lion's share

if the book sold well.

But you don't expect it to.

No.

So, a much better deal for you than him, then?

What can I say?

Business is business.

Plus, I tend to come out in a rash when I lose money.

Do you know how Mr Linder died?

He was electrocuted...

...in his bath.

Oh. Exactly the same way

as the first murder in his new book.

To be honest, I haven't read it,

but it does sound a tad ironic.

You haven't read a book you've just published?

I have... people.

Do the initials "PM" mean anything to you?

No, I don't...

No, I don't think they do.

If it is murder, can we make him a suspect, please?

I'm not sure that's quite how it works, Sergeant.

Hmm, pity.

This PM thing,

could it be something else rather than initials?

Such as? I don't know.

Afternoon? No.

PM only really works as a suffix, doesn't it?

Hmm. And why have it in your hand

unless you're trying to tell us something?

The name of his killer?

Why not?

We don't believe it was an accident. Agreed.

And why take your own life if you're dying?

Life insurance!

His daughter would benefit.

But she'd get that when he died anyway.

If the prognosis was right,

he may have only had weeks left. Days, perhaps.

Which brings us right back to the question,

who could possibly benefit from the death of a dying man

on the verge of bankruptcy?

They threw this.

But you didn't see anyone? Nothing.

Just a bang, and the whole window caved in.

Lucky no-one was hurt.

And this was what time? Er, nine.

Yeah, just after we opened.

Financials are on your desk.

Makes for pretty grim reading.

Ah. And he had no life insurance.

Cancelled his policy two years ago and never renewed.

And the phone's been ringing off the hook.

Journalists all wanting to know how Kenneth Linder died

and if it's true he was in the bath.

I didn't think we'd released anything yet.

No, we haven't.

Well, I passed 'em all on to the hub's press office.

Well done, Margo.

Was there anything on Kenneth Linder's social media?

That was easy.

He's on my Facebook friends.

You knew him? What?!

Well, back in the day, when he was an angry young writer,

and I was a Redcoat at Pirton Sands.

What?! Wait!

You were a Redcoat?

Only for eight months.

I got sacked. Why?

They said I rigged the over-70s fancy-dress competition,

just because Grandad won.

And Kenneth Linder?

Oh, we met at a Mary Hopkin concert.

Turned into a weekend of debauchery in Norwich.

We mostly lost touch after that,

although people do say he based one of his characters on me.

Which one?

Er, Melody Allcock.

LAUGHS

She was the waitress in the first Bathtub Murders.

Yes, she was! Yes!

I mean, she was the killer's ex-girlfriend.

She was the one who helped unlock the whole case.

She was the one who eventually led Horrace Bishop

to Jeremy Cook in the third book.

Yeah! And that was you?

Supposedly.

But I never saw it myself.

She was a bit...

...strange.

Can you give me a description of the man who hit you, Mr Bevan?

He was a lot taller than me, like. He had on a tracksuit.

One of them with a hood.

Did you see his face? No.

He had a scarf over his face.

I came out, on my way to the bank.

I only took three steps.

He stood right in front of me, just like you are now,

and he hit me with a rolled-up newspaper!

So, he just came up to you and hit you on the head

with a rolled-up newspaper.

I'm telling you, Kelly, this area's gone to the dogs.

Oh, it's, um... Yesterday, a similar thing happened.

Man came up to me,

tried to punch me in the face.

A different man? Yeah.

Dressed the same, like.

He was taller than me, too.

And he tried to punch you? Yeah.

But he missed.

Then he started crying and ran off!

Crying? It's these kids, Kelly.

Kelby. They're all sniffing glue and smoking something.

Day before,

one of them stole my dog poo.

Dog poo?

Honey Badger, my dog, got into the shop

from upstairs, left a little present, see?

So, I bagged it up, went outside to the bin,

and this lunatic ran up,

snatched it and ran off!

Er... Can you describe him?

He's a Border terrier...

No, the man who stole your poo.

Oh, er, dressed the same, like.

Um, a tracksuit and face covered.

Um, was he taller than you?

What do you mean?

You said the others were...

I'm just trying to get a description. Oh.

Well, yeah, now you mention it, Kelly.

Kelby. And he was wearing a tracksuit?

With his backside hanging out!

But that's kids for you these days, though, innit?

I know you've got all these face-recognition cameras these days.

You'd be better off with arse recognition.

OK. Um, well, I'll...

Leave it with me, Mr Bevan.

I'll talk to the other shopkeepers,

see if anyone's seen anything.

But I'll be in touch.

Righto, Kelly.

Eh, Kelly!

Bloody good hiding!

That's what they need!

MUMBLES Stop calling me Kelly.

Hello, Mike. All right?

Seen anything happen down there at the barber's?

No, nothing. Nothing?

See anything?

Thank you. No problem.

Hello.

That was the boat yard.

The Lily Bond might be out of the water for months.

It needs a... complete overhaul.

I can't say I'm surprised.

It had bits falling off when I was staying on it.

Well, you know you're always welcome at mine.

Humphrey will be mortified. Thanks very much.

No, not about us staying with you - about the boat.

Really loves that boat, doesn't he?

Yeah, but it was only ever supposed to be a stopgap

until we found somewhere more permanent. So...

...maybe it's time we did just that.

Find a house.

Good for you, Motty.

Won't be easy.

Hmm. There's always loads of places up for sale.

No, I don't mean finding a house.

I mean telling Humphrey.

SHE CHUCKLES

So, you've heard, then?

Heard what?

About Archie.

What about him?

I heard he was dating.

Good for him.

Don't you want to know who with?

No.

Who?

No idea.

But very pretty, by all accounts.

They were seen coming out of Kitty Jay's arm in arm.

PHONE RINGS

Hi, Nick. OK.

Thank you.

The button doesn't match any of the clothes found in the wardrobe.

Right.

And the RCD switch was disabled,

which meant the power didn't cut off instantly.

So, if it was murder,

then it was premeditated.

What were those initials you found?

PM. Why?

I might have something...

...on Kenneth Linder's page.

Someone's posted a death threat,

saying he's a fraud, that he sold out doing a new book,

that he's ruined the trilogy by adding a fourth book.

Some of the messages are pretty vile.

But the last one - look.

"Be careful you don't end up like one of your own victims."

That fits, doesn't it? A deranged fan.

Who better to copy a murder from the book?

Paul Meca. M-E-C-A. Paul Meca.

What do we know about him?

Nothing. Just the name. Not much history.

Looks like the account's only been open a few weeks.

I can put in a request for some more information,

but you know what these social media companies are like.

I wouldn't hold your breath. OK. If he's a fan,

then maybe he was at the book signing last night.

And if he's not local, then he must have stayed somewhere.

So, let's check local hotels, guest houses, all of that.

Right.

PHONE RINGS

Shipton Abbott.

Psst!

You're wanted!

What?

At the hub!

They'll... They'll just have to wait, OK?

I need to speak to Helen Linder first.

Sergeant!

I can't ever remember Dad mentioning a Paul Meca.

It seems he disapproved of the new book,

accusing your dad of selling out.

Oh. We had lots of that.

The thing is, Dad didn't necessarily disagree with them either.

But going back to the Bathtub Murders

was the only way he could get published.

I think he needed the money.

Oh, he never said anything,

but he hated Anthony Westley.

I know he'd never have gone back there unless he had to.

PHONE RINGS

Sorry, excuse me.

Hello?

DI...Goodman, I presume?

James Smith. Please.

CLEARS HIS THROAT

Sorry...

I was expecting Chief Superintendent Woods.

No longer with us, I'm afraid.

Oh...

Oh, not deceased.

In Dartmouth.

Though some might argue they're much the same thing!

Yeah, but I digress.

Look, there's been a small... restructure.

Yeah, we're not trying to boil the ocean, just a...

...realignment.

Bringing all the remaining sub-stations under our control.

"Our"? Administrative planning.

Which, in turn, reports to the local Police and Crime Panel.

In your case, that would be Shipton Abbott, of course.

Non-invasive.

Just building a loop. Hmm?

Everyone's in it and we all... open our kimono.

Kimono?

Show what we have.

Get all our ducks in a row.

That's how we move the needle.

You follow?

Yes... Er, no.

Not really.

Now, the first carriage on the train

to Efficiency Harbour... HE SIGHS

...is streamlining.

Trimming the fat.

Cutbacks.

Well... unclogging the pipes.

There's only four of us.

Which is rather the point!

In what way?

There should only be three.

Your staff-to-square-footage ratio is...

...off message.

Oh, but it's not all bad news.

No. The decision about who to lose...

...all yours.

LINE RINGS

Hey, Sam. It's Martha Goodman.

There's, um, one of your properties I'd like to see

if it's still available.

On Polkirt Hill?

Cheer up! It might never happen.

That's the point.

What?

Everyone seems to have things going on.

Martha's looking to buy a new house.

Anne's just been made a new councillor,

going off on fancy lunches all the time.

Archie's dating again. And here's me.

Exactly the same as I was... last week,

last month, pretty much the whole of last year.

Literally nothing is happening in my life right now.

One morning, I'm just going to wake up

and find out I'm old,

still on my own

and still living in Shipton Abbott.

I can't think of anything worse.

I know, right?

So, who's Archie dating, then?

Not that I'm bothered. Just interested.

No idea.

Supposed to be really pretty, though.

RADIO: Tributes are pouring in following the death

of renowned author Kenneth Linder,

who was found dead in his home at Shipton Abbott this morning.

It comes in the week he launched his latest novel, The Final Breath.

No-one seems to have seen anything.

If it's the town centre, the CCTV should have picked them up.

Hi, sir!

So, the name Meca -

I ran a quick trace.

We have 34 families with that last name

in Devon and Cornwall,

but with nothing to cross-check it with,

it's tough to narrow down. Right.

So, what do we know about him?

Er, he's a Kenneth Linder fan,

he's got a limp, and...

...he's got a button missing.

Not much. All right! Er...

See if there's a Kenneth Linder fan club

or a book-reading group. They'll have a list of members.

Why didn't I think of that? Yes. And, er,

maybe we could take a punt on the limp, too?

Check for local hospital admissions

in the last six months. Injuries to his left...

Left leg. I'm on it.

Yes.

So, the hub.

Anything to report?

Er, yes.

Yes, seems we're under new management, everyone.

The Chief Super's moved on and we are now being overseen

by the planning team and the local Police and Crime Panel.

So, where's Charlie Woods gone?

Dartmouth, I think he said. Oh, no.

She was lovely. I really liked her.

Yeah, she was definitely one of the better ones.

Is that it, though, now Charlie's gone?

No new directives or anything?

Er... Er, no.

Mmm.

STRAW SCRAPES

Lab have confirmed Kenneth Linder

as death by electrocution,

although they have listed his amyloidosis

as a secondary cause.

His body was so weak, he was unlikely

to survive the initial shock. Mm-hm.

This is madness!

What's that, Kelby?

The local bookmaker Dafydd Bevan,

assaulted three times in three days.

Got the town centre CCTV footage,

but not one of them makes any sense.

Look, here.

This is the first one.

His dog makes a mess in his shop.

He bagged it up and was taking it to an outside bin.

Then someone snatches it off him.

That's weird. HUMPHREY CHUCKLES

Then the next one.

Same time next day, near enough,

a different bloke runs up

and tries to punch him, misses,

and then Mr Bevan said that he started crying, and then ran off.

And then, this morning,

a third bloke came out of nowhere,

whacks him on the head with a rolled-up newspaper -

for no reason - and then just runs off as well!

That is all very odd. We'll send someone over now.

Just kids messing about.

I think I've found your Paul Meca.

Yeah, he arrived two nights ago.

Said he was here on business.

Kept himself to himself.

Thank you.

Would you know him if you saw him again?

Oh, doubt it.

Don't pay much attention to overnighters.

Can I ask how he paid?

Er, cash. Cash.

Has anyone else stayed in this room?

No.

The cleaner's supposed to check for things like this.

Did he give any personal details when he checked in?

Address, phone number?

He filled a registration card out.

Can we see it? It's downstairs, in the office. Esther...

Do you have any security cameras?

We have a doorbell camera.

Excellent.

Hmm, can't see him arriving.

Oh, but he might have come in through the side door.

Let's look at when he left.

OK. Thanks, Margo.

Address and phone number are false.

There he is.

He's got a limp.

That's him.

Come on! You should have gone an hour ago!

Nearly done.

Boy your age should be rushing home, getting ready to go out!

Haven't you got a date or anything?

Nah, I've given up on all them dating apps.

Oh. Last one I met up with

must have used a photo that was older than me.

Oh.

She keeps sending me photos of her...

...lasagne.

Well... don't be long.

I won't. Hm.

KELBY SIGHS

Hi.

Hi.

HUMPHREY SIGHS

Bad day? CHUCKLES

Not as bad as Selwyn.

Look, he's homeless. QUACKING

Oh, your author's been all over the news.

They're saying it was murder. I think so, yeah.

Any idea who it was?

Well, we've got a good suspect -

a disgruntled fan who was sending threatening messages,

and we can place him at the scene, so...

I'm sorry.

I know you liked him.

I did, yeah.

But it's not that.

I got called in to the hub.

Oh.

You've been told off again? Not this time.

SIGHS

They're saying I've got to lose someone at the station.

What? Yeah.

Apparently, there should only be three of us at the station,

so I need to lose one of either Esther, Kelby...

...or Margo.

That's awful! Yeah.

What will you do? I have no idea.

So, I've got something that might cheer you up,

or... make you feel ten times worse.

Right.

If it's bad timing and you don't want to talk about it,

then just say so. It's bad timing.

But the Lily Bond will be out of the water for weeks...

HE SIGHS

...maybe months.

And, although we can stay at Mum's again...

...I was thinking that maybe

it was time to move on

and went back to our original plan

when we first moved down, and...

...bought a house!

Are you serious?

Look.

Hello, Pete! Where have you been?

Out and about! Oh, Arthur, still not better, that leg?

No. Oh.

Hello, lovey! See you Friday!

Oh, yeah! Ha!

MARGO GASPS

You're in early.

What's up with you? Wet your bed?

No!

So, I had a brainwave.

Ohhh...

I was sitting in the bath,

listening to Billie Eilish, when I realised

that all those things that happened to Mr Bevan,

outside the bookmaker's,

all happened at the same time,

between five to nine and ten past nine,

three days in a row.

So, what if they're there again today?

I can get there first and wait for them to show up.

So...

...what's Billie Eilish got to do with it?

Oh, nothing. I just like her.

The fan club hasn't got a Paul Meca listed.

I'm still waiting on hospital reports.

OK.

That's sad. What is?

It's an interview with Kenneth Linder.

They asked him where the title of his book came from.

When his wife was dying, she made him promise

to look after their daughter Helen.

He said to her that he would, to his final breath.

I think he kept his promise. They were very close.

Yes. I only wish we had more answers for her.

Right!

Let's run through what we've got again.

Oi!

Stop!

Oi! Stop!

MUSIC: I Fought The Law by The Clash

Go get him, Kelly!

♪ Breakin' rocks in the hot sun

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I needed money cos I had none... ♪

Oi! Stop!

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I left my baby and it feels so bad

♪ Guess my race is run

♪ She's the best girl that I ever had

♪ I fought the law and the law won

♪ I fought the law and the... ♪

In pursuit, Coopers Passage!

OK! There's nowhere to go!

I said come here!

BOTH GRUNT

I've got you now!

SIRENS APPROACH

You lived here as a teenager, didn't you? Yes, I did.

Didn't you find it weird, seeing the same people every day

and them always looking the same?

Kelby?!

Mm...

Hello!

Um, can I use your bathroom, please?

MUD SPLATTERS Oh!

No, neither can we rule out a...

Kelby.

Kelby?!

Mum's washing my uniform.

I was chasing one of the kids that assaulted Mr Bevan.

Caught one of them, and he dobbed the other two in.

They're in the hub at the moment, being questioned.

Well done, Kelby.

Yes, indeed. Well done. Kelby.

So, what was it all about?

OK, so, Mr Bevan keeps the cash from the tills and the slot machines

in a safe overnight,

then banks it the same time every morning.

They obviously found out about it...

...and decided to rob him.

But they weren't very bright.

The first one thought Mr Bevan was on his way

to bank his takings, but he wasn't.

He was disposing a bag of dog poo.

The next day, they had a different plan.

The second one was going to throw pepper

into Mr Bevan's face and steal the bag of money,

but he didn't account for the wind direction.

SOBBING

The third one had another plan.

He had put a big chisel in a rolled-up newspaper to cosh him,

but he hadn't wrapped it tightly enough,

so when he pulled his arm back...

LIGHT THUD

GLASS SMASHES NEARBY

So... that's what happened to the barber's window.

And lucky it did, cos it could have killed someone.

Oh, what have you done?

I turned my ankle when I was getting pulled out the mud.

HE WINCES

Esther, have we got the doorbell footage of Paul Meca?

Er, yes. Hang on.

Oh! They're talking about us!

RADIO: Shipton Abbott police have no comment on the theories

that the author was murdered in the same way as the victims

in his latest thriller.

The new book is flying off the shelves,

with fans saying his death is something

he could have written himself.

Yes, it could!

Oh, that's exactly what it is.

The Final Breath.

Yeah.

But why Paul Meca?

Who is he?

An accomplice, perhaps?

Er...

Oh, that's very clever.

Do you know what happened?

HE LAUGHS

I think I do.

So, was it murder?

Not exactly.

He took his own life? Strictly speaking...

...both. SHE GASPS

The button, the memo pad,

the footprints in the garden, the mysterious Paul Meca,

the jacket he just happened to leave behind -

all very convenient and easy to find.

All ultimately leading nowhere.

Why?

Because they weren't clues at all.

They were simply the... the pen strokes

of a master storyteller.

Kenneth Linder's books were no longer

attracting the following they once did, and...

...facing financial ruin...

he was then, very literally,

dealt a killer blow.

He was dying, but his thoughts were not for himself,

they were for his daughter, Helen.

Having kept his financial woes from her,

he knew that when he was gone,

she'd be left with nothing.

So, I think, when he was told he was dying,

he concocted a plan.

First, he had to get a publishing deal.

He did so by agreeing to return to his most successful trilogy,

the Bathtub Murders.

But, more importantly,

I think he's the one who suggested he write it

without an advance,

instead taking the lion's share of profits from book sales.

But why would he do that if he was broke?

Because he intended to make sure the book

was a runaway success.

And I think he did so by murdering himself.

Knowing he only had weeks, perhaps days, left to live,

Kenneth Linder said goodbye to his daughter,

but as he wasn't insured,

he knew he had to find a way to secure her future...

Promise you'll have an early night.

Oh... A nightcap first, though, I think.

One. At least!

I love you.

Love you, too.

...to fulfil the promise he made to her mother...

...all those years ago.

I doubt that any right-minded person

would consider such a thing,

but once he'd made his plan, his course was set.

The first thing he did was plant his clues.

First, the footprint,

adding a limp for dramatic effect.

Then the mysterious note. SCRIBBLES

PAPER RUSTLES

And the button.

And then, with everything in place...

...he carried out his plan.

ELECTRICITY CRACKLES

A few days before, he booked into Sandals guest house

in the name of the character he created,

making sure that he left the jacket

with the missing button behind,

and to get caught on the doorbell camera,

allowing us to see the supposed limp

he'd orchestrated in the flowerbed

to confirm his identity.

I also think he sent himself the death threats.

The account used by Paul Meca

had only been operating a few weeks.

So, he did it all himself?

Yes, Kelby.

I think he did.

As news spread

of the fictional murder that became real life,

he ensured that his new book became a bestseller.

Remember the words that he spoke to his dying wife

all those years ago, when she begged him

to look after their daughter?

That he'd look after her until his...

...final breath?

And that's exactly what he did.

So, what gave him away?

Who's Paul Meca?

Right, OK. Two things...

...were his undoing.

Footprint casts from the garden

show that the weak leg was on the left, yet...

KEY CLACKS

...walking away from the guest house,

the limp was clearly on his right leg.

And the other thing?

The hubris? Yeah.

Ah...

HE CHUCKLES

It's an anagram.

Paul Meca.

Mea culpa.

Latin?

An admission of guilt, quite literally.

"It was me who did it."

SHE GASPS

Thank you for taking the time to stop by.

We thought you'd want to know.

Though I doubt it's much comfort.

No. None at all, to be honest.

The truth is, I'd swap every penny

of the fortune he worked so hard to leave me for...

...one more day with him.

Yeah, yeah.

Well, lots of, you know, like, filing and stuff...

Here we go. Don't think I forgot anything.

Well done. There you go.

Well done, Kelby. Want some good news?

Yes, always.

Kenneth Linder's publisher, Anthony Westley,

just got sacked. Why?

For signing a contract that gives most of the money

from the book sales to the Linder estate.

Yes, the book is bigger than ever. It's a bestseller.

Losing all that money,

he must have a nasty rash!

ALL CHUCKLE

Well, I think we shouldn't lose sight of the fact

that a daughter lost her father, but, er...

...well done, everyone.

And well done, you.

To our amazing Inspector,

Martha, who saved him from a watery grave,

our brilliant Kelby, who cracked his own case

and waded through mud to bring his prisoner in,

and Margo, who is the font of all knowledge.

And Esther, the voice of reason,

and the glue that holds us all together.

Oh, and not forgetting our new councillor.

Oh!

ALL: Cheers!

OK. So, the pictures I showed you are a bit old...

...and no-one's lived here for a while.

Really? Close your eyes.

HE LAUGHS

Oh, God. I can't see anything.

Oh! This way.

And, er, there's a step.

OK, yup.

Do we have a key?

Don't need one. There's no front door.

Oh.

Up! Up! Up, yeah.

Whoa! I'm sorry!

Seriously...

Oh, what's that smell?

Best not ask.

All right, Martha.

OK.

Are you ready? I'm not sure.

Open your eyes!

OK. Two questions.

One, are you sure we're in the right house?

And, two, if we are,

what on earth possessed you?

I'm glad you asked.

Oh, oh!

Ah!

Isn't it amazing?!

Two crimes, two attempts to undo those crimes...

I am not mad!

You think someone trashed the place,

then immediately put everything back?

Mr Smith is still hounding me for a decision on who I'm going to let go.

Oh, my God. There's Archie and that woman.

Pausing fostering still feels like the right thing to do.

Especially now we're back living with your mum.

Remember, you are enough.

I've definitely had enough, I know that much.

It came this morning.