All language subtitles for Midsomer.Murders.S13E08.Fit.for.Murder.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

Come on.

19.

20.

21.

Yeah.

22.

Yeah.

Phoebe!

23.

Loving it, boss.

Phoebe!

Phoebe, I know you're up there.

Bah, bloody woman!

I'll kill her.

I swear I'll bloody kill her.

How dare you!

Go home, Miranda.

You're only making things worse.

Miranda.
You're trespassing.

- Oh, go away, you stupid man.
- Please leave.

You're disturbing the guests.

Touch her again and I'm going
to give you such a hammering.

Get off my property now.

Both of you!

Your property?

Ha!

Come on, let's get you home.

One of these things, Lukey boy,
you're gonna push me too far.

Oh yeah?

Oh yeah?

Oh yeah, you want some, do ya?

Hey-- hey!

Come on!

Come on!

Oh, go-- go on then.
Walk away.

Ha ha ha.

Walk away.

Madness.

Checking in for a detox, and
you're inhaling cheeseburgers.

Let's talk about the
four bottles of wine you

necked last night, shall we?

It was three, actually.

Leave it.

Oh my god.

Come on.

A-- are you-- are you
all right, Mrs. Pottinger?

Thought you we're gonna do
something about those two!

Go home.

Take your filthy
money and go home.

I am, Mrs. Pottinger.

Don't you worry.

I am.

I'm upstairs.

How's it going?

Not bad.

What have you been up to?

Oh, nothing much.

- What is it, Carter?
- Come here.

Look.

Nightmare woman.

I reckon nightmare woman is
in for a bit of a surprise.

What have you done?

"Your tranquility is ours."

What does that mean?

We're about to have
a de-stressing weekend.

It isn't going to work
if you keep complaining.

I do not need de-stressing.

Get!

Get back here!

Get back here!

Hey!

Go on!

Come on, come on!

Whoa.

Careful!

Would you watch
where you're going?

Likewise!

Go away.

There's nothing for you here.

They'll steal your money
and ruin your health.

Just go away before
it's too late.

What was that about?

I do not know.

But I'm feeling calmer already.

You'll be fine, Mrs. Pottinger.

Have they-- have
they gone yet?

It's all right,
Mrs. Pottinger.

There aren't any sheep here.

Since when were you
allergic to sheep anyway?

Are you still here?

Charming.

Can I have a little
something to calm my nerves?

I recommend a gentle
massage followed by a nap.

She's gonna live.

I'm off to play golf.

Put you up Monday, dearest.

Just go, will ya?

Ah, w-- we are terribly
sorry, Mrs. Pottinger.

It won't happen again.

It had better not.

My heart.

It's going like a train.

That is down to Carter
Smith and your chum, Miranda.

I'll talk to her, Luke.

And what good will that do?

New arrivals.

Last chance, Phoebe.

Sort her out, or I will.

Good afternoon.

Welcome to Swaveley.

Boss.

Boss.

Can I have a word, boss?

Why are you wearing those?

I walked into a door.

Perfect.

It's something I
heard in the pub.

Wonderful.

This is pure gold, boss.

Straight from the horse's mouth.

Well, go on then.

Amaze me.

It's about Miranda.

What about Miranda?

We had a bit of a problem
with some escaped sheep.

Yes, we noticed.

One of the delights
of country life.

Well, The room is lovely.

Good, good.

Well, uh, once you've settled
in, you'll see Dr. Danby.

He's our resident doctor.

He'll help you plan
your treatment schedule.

Any problems, anything
you need, just-- just ask.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

We're so looking forward to it.

Good, good.

Pressure point massage
with Himalayan herbs.

Sounds good.

What's wrong with your arm?

Massages.

Himalayan herbs.

It's not my thing,
really, Joyce.

I know you're worried
about the police medical.

I am not worried
about my police medical.

Yes, you are.

I can tell.

I thought coming
here would help.

Well, it doesn't.

Look, here's the deal.

We'll stay here tonight.

Have one treatment tomorrow.

And if you still don't like
it, then we can go home.

Deal?

Deal.

What do you want to
do on your birthday?

My birthday is ages away.

It's the week after next.

Don't want to do
anything on my birthday.

Tom.

What is it?

Something's bugging you.

Nothing is bugging me, Joyce!

I feel fine.

Never better.

Sheep!

Come on, there's only one way
they could have got in there.

Ah, speak of the devil.

Hello, Phoebe.

You all right?

N-- no, not all right.

Very much not all
right, thanks to you.

Me?

The sheep, Carter.

What sheep?

The sheep in the
Garden of Contemplation!

We used to call it
the kitchen garden.

We used to grow vegetables
there, remember?

Well, it's been lovely
chatting to you ladies,

but I'm afraid I must leave you.

Oh, going home to
the wife and kids?

Yeah, as it happens.

Toodle pip.

Never mind sheep.

What about this?

A letter from some
lawyer telling me I

have no right of
access to my own house!

That was Luke's
doing, not mine.

Don't pass the buck.

Well, what do you
expect when you're

intent on trying to sabotage
everything I'm doing here?

Oh, don't make it sound
as if you're embarking

on some noble enterprise.

It was paradise here
till you mucked it up.

You and what's his name.
- Luke.

His name's Luke.

Trying to force me
out of my own home.

Nobody is trying to
force you out of your home.

Your husband is.

I just want some peace
so that I can write.

Oh, the famous novel.

30 years and still not finished.

Why?

Because it doesn't
exist, Miranda.

It's a fantasy.

You're my oldest
friend, Phoebe.

So listen to me, then.

You're right.

Luke does want you out of here.

And so far, I've
managed to rein him in.

But if you don't
stop the interfering

and the childish pranks--

well.

And keep Carter Smith
off the premises.

He frightened Kitty Pottinger
half to death with those sheep.

And we don't want her
dropping dead, do we?

Not until Luke's got hold
of her money, anyway.

So you've, uh, got a
police medical coming up.

Yes, next week.

The word is they're looking
to shed a few senior officers.

Early retirement, so on.

You wouldn't consider--
- Who, me?

No, no.

I'm in perfect health.

I've been seeing my
GP for, oh, years.

Glad to hear it.

Though your blood
pressure is a little high.

Is it?

Well, just a tad.

Nothing to get unduly
concerned about.

But if they were looking
for a reason to retire you--

you could take medication
to break it down.

But they're bound to ask you--

If you're on any medication.

Yeah.

Exactly.

I'd see your GP about
it in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I'm putting you
on a meat-free, low salt diet.

And no alcohol, of course.

At all?

Get yourself a massage.

Eat, sleep, relax.

You'll probably sail
through the medical.

Is there anything else I can
help you with, Mr. Barnaby?

Yeah, um, I keep getting
these twinges in my arms.

And in my legs.

They seem to, um, move around.

Twinges?

Yeah.

Ah, Mrs. Fox, you look
absolutely delightful.

Joyce, what is this?

It's tofu casserole.

Bags of protein, and
absolutely no cholesterol.

Excuse me.

Ah!

New arrivals, right?

Hiya.

I'm Kenny.

Got you on the tofu, I see.

Word to the wise.

Get thee down to
Cricketers, my son.

Pub in the village.

Real ale on tap.

Best steak and chips
this side of Calais.

That, Kenny, sounds very good.

I'm in trouble.

- Are you?
- Mm.

I should've been playing golf,
but my chum's put his back out.

Boss thought she'd got
rid of me for the weekend.

What have you been doing?

- I've been talking to them.
- Joyce.

You're supposed
to be talking to me!

About my birthday.

Yes?

There's something,
um, I want to tell you.

Don't spill all the--

You're such a clumsy oaf!

Unbelievable!

Mr. Pottinger, it's fine.

Don't worry, it--
it's absolutely--

I'll sort it out.
It's absolutely fine.

You know I can't
take you anywhere.

Oh, Kenny1 Just-- just
get out of my sight.

Get out of my sight.
- I'll deal with it.

It's all right.

Please, please-- let me do that.

Ah, Mrs. P--

Oh, tranquility.

How dare you walk out on me!

Where did that come from, Kenny?

I assumed you brought it.

Oh, you are such a liar!

Oh, have a drink,
for crying out loud.

Well, I suppose I could
start my detox tomorrow.

That's the spirit.

Salud y pesetas, my darling.

Hide
the bottle, quick.

Hide the bottle, quick!

Hide it!

Oh.

Hello.

Oh!

You're going to be
late for your treatment.

I'm going in the
flotation chamber.

I've always wanted
to try one of those.

And you're having the hot
volcanic stone massage.

Oh god.

Remember our deal.

No going home until
you've tried it.

I love that sound.

What sound?

The sound of you writing.

I'd better carry
on then, hadn't I?

The water's 10 inches
deep, and it's salinated,

so you'll have no
trouble floating.

This is to support your head.

And we usually suggest an
hour to get maximum benefit.

And we like to keep
the lighting very low.

I could turn it up a
little, if you like.

Nope.

Dark as possible for me.

No distractions.

Thank you.

Oh my god!

Help!
Help!

Help!

First, I'll apply a thin layer
of scented oil to your back.

Then I'll arrange the
heated stones in line

with your chakras.

My what?

Your chakras?

Your energy centers.

Look-- um, sorry.

What's your name again?

Cloud.

Cloud.

There's nothing
personal in this,

but I think I'll give the--

the hot stones a miss
this time around.

Er, please don't go.

If you do you, I'll have to
mark this session as incomplete.

Well, is that a problem?

Well, it means
I won't get paid.

You could just, you
know, sit and chill.

Got any Mozart?

Oh, I've got whale song.

Oh, no-- no thank you.

I could read your aura.

I'm sorry, my what?

I-- I can read auras.

Not everybody's, just some.

Yours is very confused.

It's probably because your
chakras are unbalanced.

The crown chakra is the
center of spiritual energy.

Yours is totally blocked.

Really?

You've got a
birthday coming up.

Well, hasn't everybody?

This is really soon.

Like, in a week?

This birthday's really
stressing you out.

I am not stressed.

It's something to
do with your father.

What?

Mr. Barnaby.

Sorry, sorry.

Something terrible's happened.

Thank you, gents.

Are you going to be all right?

Yes.

Are you all right?

For a moment there, I
thought that something

had happened to you.

Are you all
right, Mrs. Barnaby?

I'm fine.

And now, I'm going to go
and have a long, hot bath.

OK, the deceased's
name is Kitty Pottinger.

Staying here with
her husband Kenneth.

He's nowhere to be found,
and their car is gone.

From the condition
of the skin,

I'd say she'd been in the
water six or seven hours.

Water is 10 inches
deep, heavily salinated.

Still deep enough to drown.

So are we saying
it's suspicious?

Well, the question is, was
she dead before immersion?

There's no obvious
signs of struggle.

I'll know more when
I've opened her up, Tom.

Tom?

Sir?

Ah, yeah.

Well, I supposed I'd
better get changed.

No hurry.

Strictly speaking,
as you're off duty,

I'm the senior investigating
officer, aren't I?

Yeah.

Yeah, I suppose you are.

Yeah, I'm--

I'm not serious, sir.

No, but it-- it
is serious, Jones.

It's very serious.

It's a big responsibility, yeah?

Empty bottle of vodka.

A mobile.

There's a text on the mobile.

"I can't take it anymore.

You're on your own now, bitch.

Kenneth."

Received at 2:46 AM.

Nice.

Lots of women's clothes.

No men's.

Only one case.

Get a look in the bathroom?

There's no sign
of a bloke in here.

Oh, hang on.

10 milligram temazepam.

Empty.

Kitty Pottinger's
name on the label.

So what's next?

Well, you're the SIO.

Your call.

Right.

Well, I'll talk to the owner to
see if they lock that flotation

place up at night.

Maybe you could talk
to the resident doc,

see if he prescribed these.

Yes, sir.

Good.

Good!

Should've gone got that one.

Take 10 minutes.

Practice that serve, yeah?

I really can't
discuss this, you know.

Oh yes, you can, Dr. Danby.

I'm here as a policeman
now, not a guest.

Well.

The Pottingers were
both fond of a drink.

Kenny in particular.

They used to come here to detox.

But Kenny'd crack
after day or two

and go down to the pub
in the local village.

We found an empty
bottle of temazepam

with Kitty Pottinger's
name on it.

Not prescribed
by me, I might add.

No, no, you must speak
to her GP about that.

Kenny was a serious drinker.

Kitty's tastes were
more pharmaceutical.

Painkillers, sleeping
pills, so on.

I did try and talk to her about
it on more than one occasion.

Oh, well done, Mrs. Fox!

That really was first rate.

They're very well off, you know.

Made his money in
property, I believe.

In fact, there was talk of
kitty investing in this place.

Dr. Danby, I--

I think I've tweaked
my hamstring again.

Oh well.

Duty calls.

Mrs. Fox!

Joyce!

Mhm?

Joyce.

You all right?

Yes, I'm fine.

Because if you're
not, you know,

we can always pack
up and go home.

Nice try, Tom.

But I'm undeterred.

I'm going to have the
marine mud wrap next.

Well, if you're sure.

I'm sure.

Do you want to hear the gossip?

According to Florence, the
girl who works in the flotation

room, the Archbolds are broke.

This place is within
days of closing.

Kenny and Kitty Pottinger.
Well to do.

No kids.

Big house in Midsomer market.

Holiday home in Spain.

No one's answering
the phone either.

Witnesses saw them have a set to
in the dining room last night.

Yes, me included.

And I heard a car leaving
in the middle of the night.

That, presumably, was
Kenneth Pottinger.

2:32 AM.

Would you care to
write that down, Jones?

Yeah, that was 10 minutes
before he dumped her by text.

They're famous for their
fights, apparently.

Particularly after a few drinks.

So Kenneth Pottinger gets
back from the pub drunk.

They argue over dinner.

Go back to the
room, hit the vodka.

Fight gets worse.

He stormed off.

She finishes off her pills.

And heads off to
the flotation room.

It was her favorite
thing, apparently.

Oh.

There's Luke Archbold.

I haven't spoken to him yet.

Can you have a
word with him, sir?

I'm still trying
to get everyone's

movements from last night.

Of course.

Ah, if I were SIO, Jones, I'd be
looking for Kenneth Pottinger.

I'm on it, sir.

Well, come-- well, come on!

I want this cleaned
up by lunchtime.

Mr. Archbold.

Tommy.

How do a flock of sheep
get in here by accident?

I--

Well, they don't.

They were put here.

Sabotage.

My god, how we hate
success in this country!

You know, you know, no wonder--
no wonder it's going down

the path-- morning, morning.

Lovely day.

We-- we can't bear to see
someone being successful,

can we?

Gotta knock them
when they're down.

Can I talk to you about
the Pottingers, please?

Ah, The flotation center
was locked at 8:00 PM sharp.

Guests are warned in
no uncertain terms

about using facilities
unsupervised, sir.

So if you're thinking of
throwing the old health

and safety book at me, you've--

Health and safety is not
my concern, Mr. Archbold.

How and why Kitty
Pottinger died is.

What?

Y-- y-- you're not--

well, you're not saying
she was murdered, are you?

Please, please for God's sake,
don't go spreading that around.

That's the last thing we need.

Got any idea where Kenny
Pottinger might have gone?

One of his golfing
buddies, probably.

That's where he usually
goes on these occasions.

Oh, he's walked off
on her before, has he?

God, yeah.

But he's normally
back the next day

with his tail between his legs.

He-- Kenny can't cross the road
without Kitty holding his hand.

Oh, great.

That's what we need.
Hey!

Hey!

Oi!

Hang on!

Look.

Look.

I've told you before.

You are not allowed
on the property.

He's on my property.

Actually, he's not, as I believe
my solicitor has informed you.

You have no right of way here.

So how am I supposed to get
in and out of my own house?

Not my problem.

And you.

You should be aware that
this man is a police officer.

And I am going to make
an official complaint

to him regarding your
persistent trespassing.

Not to mention the
sheep infestation.

That's a long word, Lukey boy.

Which I will be able
to prove was down to you.

And how are you
going to do that?

Check the sheep for
my fingerprints?

Why not?

They're on everything
else around here.

Aren't they, Miranda?

Hey, get off!

Get off me!

Get off me!

Get off!

You're my witness, Barnaby.

He assaulted me.

I-- I insist you
arrest him immediately!

Walk away, Mr. Archbold.
Walk away.

Assault. Assault and battery.

I'm going to make a complaint.

Clock's ticking, Archbold.

You're finished here.

Ahem.

Luke Archbold has found
some loophole in the deeds

whereby I can't use the
drive of my own house.

Oh, so that's the reason for
the bad feeling between you,

is it?

Tip of the iceberg, my friend.

Phoebe inherited heard
of the manor 30 years ago.

It was the family home.

She loved the place,
but she was broke,

and she couldn't
afford to live here.

I had money in those days,
so I bought the Red House,

which meant she could stay on.

I never thought
about rights of way.

We were friends.

Why would we?

"Were"?

Everything changed when
she met Luke Archbold.

It was his idea to turn
this place into a circus.

And what is your
role in all this, Mr.--

Oh, I mow the lawn.

Help with the shopping.

Mainly I read.

Carter works for me.

He used to work for Phoebe, too.

Luke put an end to that.

Like asking
questions, don't ya?

Well, sir, you
may not have heard,

but, um, a guest died
at the manor last night.

Who?

Kitty Pottinger.

How awful.

No wonder Lukey
boy's in a bad mood.

Another gravy train missed.

That's enough, Carter.

What happened?

We don't know yet.

So did, uh-- did
either of you see

or hear anything last night?

Not me.

I live in the village.

No, I was working.

Then I'm oblivious
to everything.

What sort of work would
that be, Ms. Bedford?

I'm a writer.

Ms. Bedford is
writing a novel.

It's her life's work.

30 years, in fact.
- 30 years?

Must be a long novel.

Well, that level of dedication
is a rare and beautiful thing

these days, wouldn't you say?

Well, it is to me,
but what do I know?

I mow the lawn.

Oh, I think there's a lot
more to you than that, sir.

Including your temper, which, if
I may say so, you should curb.

I won't even ask about
the, um, sheep infestation.

So I just need to
check where everyone was.

OK.

So let's start at 8:00 PM.

Oh, hang on.

Sir!

Sir!

Cloud?

Cloud?

I'm sorry to disturb you.

Give me a minute?

I was just thinking
about Kitty Pottinger.

So sad.

She was such a lovely lady.

Was she a client of yours?

Oh, yes.

I read her aura the
first time she came here.

I could see it so clearly.

Hm.

Cloud.

When you were
reading my aura, you

said something about my father.

I-- I can't talk
about that now.

There's too much negative
energy flying around.

Tomorrow, OK?

Ugh.

It's still locked.

Hello?

Hello?

It's been closed all day!

Joyce?

Joyce, it's about my--

-birthday.

I've been trying to
tell you something,

but it's so difficult
finding a quiet moment

in a place like this.

I-- I-- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

No complaints, I'm sorry.

Joyce, this is all
about my father.

It-- it may sound strange,
but bear with me, please.

You're not supposed
to be in here, sir.

Hello, Tom.

Are you disturbing Mrs. Fox?

Oh, I'm so terribly sorry.

I can book you a
session, if you want.

No, no!
Erm.

No, um.
- So sorry.

I'll speak to you later.

Sorry.

Good morning to you, sir.

Good morning to you.

What'll it be?

Well, what do you recommend?

You have the look, sir, of
an escapee from the manor spa.

Yeah, well, that's
exactly what I am.

Then I advise a pint
of Old Curmudgeon.

5.1 ABV.

And it'll bring down a
soya bean at 200 yards.

Well, that sounds perfect.

And if you're peckish,
we do retox menu.

Oh, thank you.

Well.

Don't mind me.

My day off.

Oh, why not.

You only live once.

Good man.

What do you want?

Let me in, for God's sake.

If Luke sees me
here, he'll kill me.

You all right?

Yes.

No.
God no.

I'm-- I'm-- I'm not all right.

I'm-- I'm worried
about the situation.

You're worried?

That's good.

All right, I'm frightened.

I'm-- I'm frightened the
Carter's going to do something.

Like what?

Come on.

Carter's got a temper.

He's violent, for God's sake.

He attacked Luke earlier today.

No, Luke attacked Carter.

And Carter beat up Julian
outside the Cricketers.

They were drunk!

It was handbags at 20 paces.

Carter threatened
to kill Luke!

Oh, nonsense.

I was there.

I heard him.

Carter's clever.

He only lets you
see one side of him.

You don't know what
he's really like.

Funny.

I could say exactly the
same thing about Luke.

I wish Magnus was still alive.

So do I, Phoebs.

You haven't called
me that in ages.

Haven't I?

- Maybe we c--
- Maybe we could what?

Nothing.
It doesn't matter.

I'm just being silly.

I think-- I think I'd better go.

Now, Magnus,
Phoebe's first husband.

He was a nice feller, he was.

This was before
your time, Julian.

Before they turned
the manor into a spa.

Magnus w-- would
you do another, sir?

Mm!

Magnus worked in the city.

Worked too hard, I reckon,
because he dropped dead,

what, five years ago?

Not long after that, Luke
Archbold came on the scene.

Caught Phoebe on the rebound.

Ah, caught her money
on the rebound, you mean.

Maybe.

Ah.

Afternoon, Carter.
The usual?

Please, Clarky.

Funny smell in
here, all of a sudden.

How's the eye, Julian?

Now, then, you two.

Any more aggravation,
I'm barring both of you.

That's all right, Clarky.
I'm going outside.

Bring my pint out, would you?

Right out.

I'm off anyway.

Thanks, Julian.

Very nice.

They had a bit of a set-to
the car park the other night.

He's a good bloke, Carter, but,
oh, he's got a temper on him.

I'll take that to him.

Thank you very much, sir.

Thank you.

Mr. Smith, may I join you?

I brought your beer.

Right after you.

There you go.

Another good book?

Yeah.

Dostoevsky.

The governor.

Fourth time I read this.

Tolstoy.

He was a great
writer, no question.

But Dostoevsky came from
the dark side, he did.

And what about you, Mr. Smith?

Do you come from the,
uh, the dark side?

Me?

No.

I'm a lightweight.

Well, yeah, I suppose
you are, aren't you?

Because, uh, sheep
rustling and fist

fights in pub car parks,
not exactly the stuff

of Russian literature.

You've seen worse, right?

I have seen worse.

I have poked around
on the dark side.

Maybe did too much.

Maybe you
should jack it in.

Sit in the sun with a good book.

Mr. Smith.

When I told you about
Kitty Pottinger,

you said something
about Luke Archbold

missing another gravy train.

What did you mean by that?

She was rich and unhappy.

Perfect for Luke Archbold.

A lamb to the slaughter.

If you forgive of
the sheep reference.

Heh.

Phoebe Archbold.

Was she a lamb to the slaughter?

I reckon so.

Recently widowed.

Kids grown up and leaving home.

And then along comes
laughing boy Luke.

Four years later, shazam.

Her lovely home is full of
rich people in dressing gowns,

snapping their fingers at her.

Lovely day.

Shh!

You're not supposed
to talk here.

Sorry.

Can I smell beer?

What, in this lovely place?

Surely not.

You've been to that pub.

I have been making inquiries.

And having lunch.

You had steak and chips!

Sorry.

What are you doing?

Meditating.

Try it.

Close your eyes.

Concentrate on your breathing.

And try to empty your mind.

Shh!

26.

27.

28.

29.

Barnaby.

On my way.

What is it?

Something terrible
just happened.

Again.

Oh.

God.

When I woke up
this morning, and he--

he still wasn't there.

Is there anything we can do?

Oh, no.
Thank you.

Florence is looking after me.

We can talk later.

I'll be back in one sec.

Wait!

It's probably not
important, but--

No, no, go on.

Mrs. Archbold
told me that she--

well, she was worried that
Carter Smith was going to--

to do something to Mr. Archbold.

She went to see Miss Bedford
yesterday to talk about it.

I don't know what
happened, but she

was really upset afterwards.

Just thought I ought to
tell you because, well,

she probably won't.

That's good.

That's right-- right
that you should tell me.

Thank you.

I've contacted
the manufacturers.

They're sending someone down
who knows about these things.

So we can see whether it's
been tampered with or not.

I've got to talk to,
uh, Mr. Universe.

He runs the gym.

Do you want to come?

They're gonna blame
me, aren't they?

Why, Julian?

Because I'm supposed to
look after the equipment.

I told Mr. Ray, you should get
a proper person to look after it

now Carter's not working here.

Carter Smith?

Yeah, he used to
do the maintenance.

He's good with stuff like that.

I'm not a technology person.

I'm a people person.

That's what a trainer needs.

People skills.

They'll close this place
down now, won't they?

Mrs. Archbold say anything
about closing it down?

No, Julian.

No, she didn't.

If they do, I'll have
to go back to Nuneaton.

Julian, excuse me.

Oh.

Nice.

Carter Smith give you that?

Might have done.

What as the fight about?

We were arguing
about Loony Miranda.

What about Loony Miranda?

About her and her famous book.

I made a joke, that's all.

Now, Julian.

I'm going to have to
talk to you again.

Oh, don't worry.

I'm not going back to Nuneaton.
Not until I have to.

Didn't you say Carter had a
go at Luke Archbold yesterday?

Yes, he flies off the
handle all too easily.

And he's set on Luke
Archbold before.

There's the dispute of
the right of way, sir.

It wouldn't be the first
time we've since someone

murdered over one of those.

And Carter knows his way around
the equipment in the gym.

Look, I think there's
more to this than a dispute

over a right of way.

Like what?

Well, I'm interested
in the fight

over Miranda Bedford's book.

Now, what's that go
to do with anything?

Any sign of Kenny
Pottinger yet?

No.

He goes off on these
benders, comes back

a couple of days later with
his tail between his legs.

Have you sorted out everyone's
movements for that night?

Er, not quite.

What?

Well, it's difficult.

Because?

Because--

Because we're going to
need exactly the same thing

for last night, aren't we?

Yes.

Yes.

You're the SIO, Jones.

Right.

You're sure you're
going to be all right?

Yeah.

I'll catch you later, then.

Take care.

What's the matter
with Mrs. Fox?

Well, She's upset about
Luke Archbold, obviously.

Why obviously?

Because she's obviously got
a bit of a thing about him.

I thought policemen we're
supposed to be observant.

Well, I've got other
things on my mind, Joyce.

I guess our stay over.

Oh, yes.

I'm sorry, Joyce.

No I'm the one that's sorry.

I bring you away for
de-stressing weekend,

and people start
dropping like flies.

I'll go and pack.

Oh, Tom.

Mrs. Fox said you were talking
to her about your father.

You know, when you
thought she was me.

What was that about?

Oh it was-- it was nothing.

Nothing much.

Look, I'll tell
you about it later.

I'm not going to put
on the show of mock-grief,

because I couldn't
stand the man.

I'm sorry for Phoebe, though.

Where's Carter?

No idea.

Not his keeper.

Despite what everybody says, my
relationship with Carter Smith

is strictly platonic.

That means we're
just good friends.

Yes, I know what it means.

We talk about books.

Your book?

Of course.

Oh, happy times, by
the look of things.

Yes, they were.

You talk to Phoebe
about your book?

I used to, yes.

Until Luke came on the scene.

Then everything changed.

Ah, guess.

Phoebe married Luke Archibald.

And you-- you took
up with Carter Smith.

I did not take up with him.

I employed him.

Anyway, the two events
are completely unrelated.

Are they really?

What exactly is
it that you want?

Phoebe Archbold came to
see you yesterday afternoon,

didn't she?

Yes.

So?

Did she talk about
Carter threatening Luke?

That's all such nonsense.

Is it?

I heard Carter Smith
yesterday say to Luke,

your days are numbered.

He met here.

At the manor.
They're broke.

Didn't you know?

The spa is a failure.

Oh, well, the way I
see, that-- that's a cause

for celebration, isn't it?

I mean, now you can
get on with your book

without any interruptions.

My god.

You don't think that Carter
and I had anything to do

with Luke's death, do you?

Excuse me.

George?

Yes, thank you.

I'm on my way.

We'll talk again.

Not if I can help it.

Just go, would you?
I have work to do.

It's me.

What the hell have
you been up to?

There are no post-
or antemortem injuries.

There was foam in the airways.

The lungs were overinflated
and full liquid, all of which

would indicate
death by drowning.

The lab report shows she'd
ingested a considerable amount

of alcohol in benzodiazepine.

What are you saying, George?

I'm saying, Tom, I cannot, at
this point, tell you whether

a death was accidental or not.

What about him?

Crush asphyxia due to chest
compression, by the look of it.

I can be absolutely
certain till I've finished.

And even then, with
injuries like this,

it's hard to be definitive.

Oh, that's very useful.
Thank you, George.

Don't mention it!

Sir.

Report on the
empty vodka bottle.

Tell me.

No prints, not even a smudge.

It's been thoroughly cleaned.

Inside as well.

Inside?

Same with glasses.

What to know what I think?

Enlighten us, Benjamin.

It was rinsed
out so we wouldn't

find traces of temazepam.

Kitty Pottinger
was drinking vodka

spiked with her own medication.

Which makes Kenny
Pottinger prime suspect.

He had the means, the
opportunity, and the motive.

Well, sir?

Cheer up, Tom.

Looks like you might
have a murder after all.

You off, Mrs. Barnaby?

Oh, yes.

Tom wants me out of here
before I become a suspect.

I don't know, maybe it's me,
but he doesn't seem himself.

Well, I think he is worried
about the police medical.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

And then, of course,
there's this place.

Yeah.

It's a tricky case.

Lots of unanswered questions.

Oh, I'm not talking
about the body count.

I'm talking about all
these new age stuff.

Oh.

He can't be doing with it.

Yeah.

What are you doing?

If you want to see
something clearly,

you should look in the
opposite direction.

It's zen think.
- Ah.

Of course it is.

Shh.

There are dark
spots on your aura.

You are very troubled.

It's to do with your father.

You've got a birthday coming up.

You'll be the same age as
your father when he died.

Yes, this is it.

Your father died
on his birthday,

and you're afraid that
you'll die on yours.

How did you know that?

There's water.

What?

No.

It's gone.

No, wait-- you said
something about water.

What was that?
- You'll have to go.

We're supposed to be packing.

Mrs. Archbold is
closing the spa.

Are you going to
give me some money?

Sir.

Sir.

Sir?

What is it, Jones?

Enlighten me.

It's a compression plate.

And it's missing from
the training machine.

It's vital, apparently.

Are you all right?

Look a bit peaky.

I'm absolutely fine.

Anything else?

Yes.

The receptionist tells me
there's a set of keys missing.

Keys to where?

The whole place.

Everything.

Including the gym.

How about we turn over
Carter Smith's place,

see what we find?

Miranda Bedford's,
too, while we're at it.

Yeah, right.

Right.

I'll apply for the
search warrants then?

Yeah, obviously.

Right.

Ah, no.

Jones.

Um, Kitty Pottinger's car.

What about it?

Uh, look for it around here.

Around here?

Yes, a, uh, two-mile radius.

I heard a car.

But Kenny Pottinger wasn't
necessarily driving it.

I think someone wants us to
believe that he fled the scene.

Then there's the, uh, the
text message signed Kenneth.

Everyone calls him Kenny.

Yeah.

Whoever drove the car
sent the text message.

You're thinking it
was someone from here.

I'm thinking all
kinds of things.

I'm sorry.

No.

No, it's all right.

Come in.

How are you?

Oh, well, I--

I feel like I'm in a bit
of a dream, I suppose.

A very bad dream.

And on top of it all,
we've had to tell the staff

that we're closing, that they
don't have their jobs anymore.

And they've all
been so wonderful.

This used to be
the kitchen garden.

Miranda and I spent a
lot of time in here.

My first husband, Magnus,
worked away own business a lot.

I brought up the children.

Miranda wrote-- or
talked about Writing.

And we worked in here together.

It was the happiest
time of my life.

Ah.

Hello, Cully.

What a lovely surprise.

He said, without
much conviction.

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm
sorry, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, it's been a hard day.

Jones.

What can I do for you?

Yeah, just a, um,
couple of things that I

wanted to check with you.

Excuse us, ladies.

Oh, we'll get the
search warrants tomorrow.

Yes, and?

Well.

The night Kitty Pottinger died,
not everyone's account tallies.

Like Julian, the gym guy.

He was seen hanging around
the Red House at 10:00 PM.

But he says he was
with Luke Archbold.

Um, the Natasha Fox woman
says she was in the room.

But a member of staff
brought a tea, and said--

Go and double check.

Well, I can't double
check with Luke Archbold

because he's brown bread.
- Well, look, Jones.

I can't do everything
for you, can I?

Any sign of Kenny Pottinger?

No, not as yet.

Or his car?

Working on it, sir.

We we're just planning your
surprise birthday party, Dad.

You were what?

Joke.

Oh.

Have a glass of wine.

Oh, yes.

Yes, please.

- How's it going, Tom?
- How's it going, Joyce?

Oh, it's going very well indeed.

Excellent.

Couldn't be better.

Cheers, love.

Keep them apart, separate.

It's the police.

Am I ever going
to get any peace?

Mob-handed as well.

It's pathetic.

Don't lose it, Carter.

Detective Sergeant
Jones, Causton CID.

I have a warrant to
search the premises.

What exactly are
you hoping to find?

This is a murder
inquiry, Ms. Bedford.

I suppose I have no
choice in the matter.

No, you don't.

Love to stay and
watch the fun, Barnaby.

But you know how it is.

Things to do, people to see.

Mr. Smith.

Carter, don't.

Mr. Smith, I need a
look inside your vehicle

before you go.

Please.

I said I need to look!

Ms. Bedford.

Shall we?

Key, please?

Oh, so the book
really does exist.

Of course.

Beautiful handwriting.

Hilary.

Is she the-- the heroine?

She's the protagonist, yes.

And what happens to her?

As a matter of fact,
she goes to prison.

For murder.

But she's innocent, of course.

Of course.

Oho.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah?

Sir.

Compression plate,
identical to the one missing

from the machine that
killed Luke Archbold.

Right.

So I sabotaged the
equipment, then

hid the incriminating
evidence in my truck.

Criminal mastermind, that's me.

Carter.

Sir.

What?

Aha.

A large bunch of keys.

Tanning studio.

Fitness suite.

Looks like these
belong to the manor.

Do you recognize those keys?

No, of course I don't.

I do.

They were mine.

I, uh, I handed them back
to Luke when he sacked me.

Well, unfortunately, he
won't be able to confirm that,

will he?

A crude attempt to
incriminate us, obviously.

Well, we'll discuss it
at the station, shall we?

Carter Smith, Miranda
Bedford, I'm arresting

you both on suspicion--

Wait.

Mr. Smith.

That fight you had with
Julian outside the pub.

What about it?

That fight was all about
Miranda's book, wasn't it?

Something like that.

Julian claimed that
that book did not exist.

Am I right?

Sir.

Hang on, hang on.

Mr. Smith.

My memory is a-- a bit hazy.

I'd had a few drinks, hadn't I?

And he would never, ever
discuss my work with anyone.

Would you, Carter?

Mr. Smith, if you do
not cooperate with us,

I'll have you in and out of
Causton nick on so many charges

your head will spin.

Assaulting a police
officer, trespass.

And yes, sir, first
degree murder.

All right, all right.

Yes.

Yes, I told Julian
that I'd read the book.

And?

And I told him it
was almost finished.

And I told him where
Miranda kept the manuscript.

Oh, Carter.

I'm so sorry, but he
got to me, didn't he?

Great lump can't even
spell his own name.

What right has he got
to have a go at you?

We're finished here.

Thank you.

Please, I-- I--

I'm so-- I'm so sorry.

They've got to
be in the frame, sir.

Kitty Pottinger, Luke
Archbold are dead.

They've got what they want.

The spa is finished.

Phoebe won't push this
right of way business.

And--

And they leave vital
bits of evidence lying

around from us to pick up.

How very thoughtful.

Murderers panic.

They do stupid things in
the heat of the moment.

How many times
have we seen that?

Jones.

Kitty Pottinger, Luke
Archbold's murders

were premeditated,
carefully planned.

Heat of the moment
didn't come into it.

And what's all this stuff
about Mrs. Bedford's book?

Jones.

Right.

Thank you.

Well, you were right
about one thing.

Kenny Pottinger's car.

They found in a wood a
couple of miles from here.

It's unlocked.

Keys in the ignition.

And mobile.

Open the boot.

Oh, golf.

Oh, of course.

What?

Kenny was supposed to be
playing golf over the weekend.

It, uh, fell through
at the last moment.

So whoever spiked the vodka
thought that Kitty was

going to be there on her own.

So Kenny got doped as well?

Jones, you mentioned
some discrepancies

in the witness statements.
- Yeah.

Natasha Fox said
she was in her room.

But there was no answer
when room service called.

Er, she always some--

what's it?

Um, chamomile tea last thing.

- That all?
- No.

Julian, the gym
guy, he said he was

with Luke Archbold at 10:00 PM.

But Angela Danby saw him hanging
around Miranda Bedford's place.

Angela who?

Danby.
One of the therapists.

Hippy-dippy.

Calls herself Cloud.

Danby.

Danby-- isn't that the
name of the doctor?

Yeah.

She's his daughter.

Oh, for crying out loud!

What?

Nothing.

You go and talk to Natasha
Fox, see if she's lying.

I will go to speak
to Julian Woodley.

Angela Danby!

Hello, Julian.

Mrs. Fox, a word.

Julian, this is
a murder inquiry.

Let me tell you something.

If you lie to me, that makes
you an accessory to murder.

If you weren't in your room
that night, where were you?

Or perhaps a more
formal interview

might jog your memory.

I was with Luke.

Luke Archbold?

Yes.

My husband.

I'm sorry?

My ex-husband.

He left me for Phoebe
when my money ran out.

But he was coming back to me.

I was the one he
really cared about.

Hold on.

Carter told me about
Loony Miranda's book.

How it was almost finished.

Thousands of pages,
all handwritten.

And how she keeps
it in this old safe.

So I told Mr. A, and--

well, he wanted me to steal it.

He offered me a grand, but
I wasn't going to do it.

I swear.

I would never have
stolen anything.

I was just being helpful.

Excuse me.

Barnaby.

She's what?

Luke's ex.

The other night Kitty
died, they were cavorting

in one of the vacant rooms.

But when she left, she saw
something very interesting.

She saw Phoebe.

OK, listen.

This is what we're going to do.

What exactly is it
you're looking for?

I just wanted a last
look before we leave.

You're leaving?

Yes.

We're finished here.

As of today, we'll be running
the investigation from phone

Causton Police Station.

You can start moving
everyone out now, Jones.

Yes, sir.

Goodbye.

Mrs. Archbold, did your
husband tell you about,

ah, Miranda Bedford's book?

Tell me what about the book?

That he was
planning to steal it.

He was what?

This door has been locked
for a couple days, hasn't it?

Yes.

Luke said there's a
problem the sunbed.

Don't suppose you've
got a key, have you?

Not on me.

What were you saying
about Miranda's book?

Oh, nothing.
It's, uh, something I heard.

Probably nonsense.

Sounds like it.

Well, thank you, Mrs.
Archbold, for your help.

Would you excuse me a minute?

I've got a phone call.

Oh, of course, yes.

Ah, I'll be in the
office if you need me.

Hm.

Please.

Help me.
Help me.

Shh, shh.

Quiet.

No!

Please.
Please.

It's all right, Mr. Pottinger.

You're safe now.

You're safe.

I didn't hit him
hard enough, did I?

Set.

Once Kitty Pottinger
had a controlling

interest in the manor, I knew
I'd be out sooner or later.

Miranda as well.

The thought of that woman
ruling the roost in my house!

And she would have ruled.

So you decided to kill her.

Yes.

I used to open a floatation
chamber for her at all hours.

The VIP treatment for
her ladyship, and so on.

One night, she was so out
of it on booze and pills,

she could barely walk.

And I thought, all
I have to do is

hold your head under the
water for a minute or two.

When Luke told me she was
going to invest in the spa,

I remembered that night.

But you needed
Kenny out of the way.

Yes, but then his golfing
weekend came up perfect.

I dissolved Kitty's
temazepam in the vodka,

and I left it in that room.

I knew she wouldn't
be able to resist.

Then I realized that
Kenny hadn't gone.

I hurried back to the room
to retrieve the vodka,

but it was too late.

They had already opened it.

Oh.

Hello.

Oh, uh, just--
just, uh, wondering

if there's anything you need?

Well, I might
fancy a float later.

Oh, yes.
Yes, of course.

She said that she might
give me a call later.

Sure enough, she did.

Let's put this
under your head.

Oh, that's nice.

OK, lovely.

All right, Mrs. Pottinger?

There was no sign of Kenny.

But I thought that
it might still work.

Come out, come out,
wherever you are.

So I had to improvise.

Mr. Pottinger, you're
disturbing the guests.

You're all wet.

It's nice.

You know, I've always had a
little bit of a thing for you.

Well, that's lovely.

But not here.

A sunbed, eh?

Why don't you lie down?

Well!

This'll be a first.

Oh, no, no, no, wait!

Just let me-- just let me
get these wet things off.

Why, you're full of
surprises, you are, aren't ya?

Now, I had to
finish Kitty off.

I was going back to deal
with Kenny when I remembered

the damn vodka bottle.

I had to get that cleaned up.

But you'd been
seen by Natasha Fox.

Yes, the ex-wife.

How perfect is that?

And when you went back to
the tanning studio, Kenny

Pottinger wasn't there, was he?

No, so I panicked.

I drove Kenny's car to the wood.

I sent Kitty a
text to her mobile,

but everything was unraveling.

I had to find Kenny.

Who was
wandering the grounds,

severely concussed,
full of booze and pills.

I got a torch and
went looking for him.

He was by the pump house.

I-- I couldn't find a pulse.

I thought he was dead.

He's a big man.

It took me an age
to get him inside.

And when Luke told you he
was planning to steal Miranda's

manuscript to destroy
her life's work

and so finally be rid of her--

Oh my god, yes.

Well, that's when I realized
that Luke had to go, too.

I was in the gym one day
when Carter explained to Luke

how the machine
might go wrong if it

wasn't properly maintained.

That's what I got the idea.

And it was easy to
plant the evidence.

Too easy.

It's funny.

I could say exactly the
same thing about Luke.

I hoped you'd think Carter had
left the keys at the Red House.

I-- I didn't mean
to involve Miranda.

I wish Magnus was still alive.

So do I, Phoebs.

When Luke
told me that Miranda's

book actually existed, I felt
so guilty for doubting her.

I wanted to look after her.

Do you understand?

That's what I'd always done.

When we were happy.

When everyone was happy.

I'm so, so sorry.

I should have had more faith.

When Luke said that he was
going to steal the manuscript--

It wouldn't have
mattered if he had.

Carter get any new pages
photocopied every day.

Does he?

Of course.

And I finished it a year ago.

I've just been tweaking
bits since then.

The book's been sold, Phoebs.

For pots of money.

But Carter told
Julian that he--

Carter
tends to dramatize.

He reads too much.

I just wanted everything to
go back to how it was before.

It will.

However long it takes.

I'll be here.

What's the book about?

Us.

I've got a loose
end to tie up.

Toodle-pip.

Hello, Angela.

The spa is closed.

We're not doing any
more treatments.

Oh, what a shame.

Yes.

It is.

No, I-- I mean a shame
for you and your father.

That's quite a double act
you've got going there, eh?

I don't know what you mean.

Do you not?

When the clients sign
in to this place,

they're given the once
over by your father

when they're, um, vulnerable.

And they tell him things
they probably wouldn't even

tell their own GP.

I know I did.

And that, Ms. Danby, is how
you knew about my father.

Sit down.

Sit.

Down.

He died on his birthday.

Y-- well, yes,
I told you fath--

Shh.

Near water.

A river-- no, no, a lake.

A big lake.

It was a beautiful, sunny day.

He was on his own when he died.

You weren't there.

Nobody was there.

You didn't tell my
father that, did you?

No.

Joyce, do you remember
the day my father died?

Of course I do.

And he'd asked me to
go fishing with him.

It was something we always
did together on his birthday

when I was a kid.

And then all those years
later, he asked me again.

But we'd had one
of our arguments.

And I was annoyed with him.

I was angry.

And I said no.

And you and I went
off to have lunch.

You think that if you had
gone with him that day--

I could have done
something, yeah.

I think about that a lot.

Tom.

Your father died of
a massive stroke.

You couldn't have done anything.

Well, you can say that.

But I feel guilty.

I really do.

And I'm very sad,
because the last words

I ever said to my father--

they were not affectionate.

And then I got this-- this
idea stuck in my head.

What idea?

The idea that I would
die when I got to his age.

And sure enough,
a few weeks ago I

feeling these aches and pains,
headaches, god knows what.

Why on earth
didn't you tell me?

Because, Joyce,
it's ridiculous.

It is ridiculous.

It's irrational.

It's neurotic.

So you're human.

Just like the rest of us.

Yeah, it seems so.

Should I have a medical
team on standby tomorrow?

Tomorrow?

Your birthday!

Oh.

No, you should not.

My twinges have gone,
and I'm feeling fine.

Must have helped, passing
that police medical.

Yeah.

Dad?

Tom, look.

Oh, God moves
in mysterious ways.

Whoa!

Champagne!

And he passed his medical, too.

Happy
birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday, dear Tom.

Happy birthday to you.