All language subtitles for Midsomer.Murders.S03E04.Beyond.the.Grave.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

[music playing]

By 3:30 that afternoon,
August 1st, 1644,

the fighting was over.

The battle of Aspen
Tallow had been lost.

Royalist had fallen roundthe King like ripe corn.

But Jonathan Lowrie
was not among the dead.

Now, this way please,and keep up, if you will.

Uh-- follow.

He had fought that day,bravely, for King and country,

paying dearly for the privilege.

But who would care?

He was a wealthy man,much in the King's favor,

and had few friends in thisrounded part of the world.

He made his way
down this very lane,

and paused here,
to gather strength

and draw water from the well.

[bike bell]

Stand aside, please.

I'm coming through.

Do mind the
gradient, Miss Bunsall.

He drank and moved on.

Follow.

Follow.

[music playing]

When he reached this
point, Cromwellian

thugs on the rampage caughtsight of him from yonder.

For the first time in hislife, Jonathan Lowrie ran.

Blood poured from a wound to hisleft shoulder, leaving a trail.

But on he pressed, until
here before him stood

the family home, Aspen hall.

Afternoon.

And as he entered
the great hall,

he called out to hiswife, Florence, Florence?

And as he reached thisspot, so a rounded musketeer

at the door shot him, dead.

And in accordance
with his wish to be

buried where he
fell that day, this

became his last resting place.

Though I know for afact, he is not at peace.

Well, you're not trying tosell us a ghosty, Mr. Bradford?

Why?

Don't you believe
in such things?

Well, have you seen it?

Many have.

And before he walks abroad,he gives fair warning, tolling

the church bell mournfully.

We are blessed with afine portrait of Jonathan,

crafted at the
height of his powers

by the artist, Robert Walker.

[music playing]

You're a police
man, do something.

Who says justice is dead?

George Burton fell off
the twig while being

interviewed about his book.

I gather you and
George weren't close?

Yeah.

Last of a gang.

Hijacked four lorries
in Dover, 985.

Nailed one of the
drivers to a fence.

Oof, and they wrote
a book about it?

That's all the rage, isn't it?

What time did Cully
eventually get in?

2:00-ish.

They have got a
favor to ask you.

They?

But dad, the lease onNico's flat has just run out.

I don't care.

He's not moving in.

What about the box room, Tom?

I mean, we could putyour stuff in the garage.

Stuff?

It's only for two weeks.

Why is it when I say
I no, you both hear yes?

Oh, good morning, Nico.

There's something else.

There always is.

He's got a part
in a soap opera.

Is it a speaking part?

It's a police drama.

I'm a Detective Sergeant.

Oh.

We were hoping
you'd let him shadow

Gavin, see how it's done.

[laughs]

Suppose a nice, juicy murderis too much to hope for then?

The best I can offer
is a vandalized painting

at Aspen Tallow Museum.

But so far, your
Detective Sergeant

is absolutely believable.

Terrific.

Why?

You've observed rule
number one, always

keep the Governor waiting.

[music playing]

Charlie, you've
nearly finished.

Oh, I don't hang about.

Oh, it's perfect.

Oh, it's much better thanpokey attic in my house.

Oh.

Oh, careful, careful.

Ha, ha.

Oh, I never reallythanked you enough for doing

all that you've done for me,moving me in here with you.

Well, I'm glad
it's all worked out.

And as for Monday morning,Sandra MacKillop-- paintings

restored, framed, cleaned--

you name it, she can do it.

Actually, uh--

I've had a phone callfrom Aspen Tallow Museum.

Allen Bradford wants
me to do a job for him.

Tallow?

Well there is a portraithe wants me to repair.

He wants me to go downthere as soon as possible.

And what are you waiting for?

I was hoping that--

that you'd come with me.

Give me five minutes.

Morning, sir.

Yes, morning, Angel.

No wonder they broke in, sir--

fake alarm system,
single mortise lock

on the door, windows thatdon't close properly.

Where's Sergeant Troy?

Inside, sir.

This way, sir.

Yes, thank you, Angel.

I can manage.

Right, sir.

Someone's had a go
at this painting, sir.

Rule number two,
always treat the boss

as if he's blind and stupid.

Troy, Nico will be followingyou around for a week.

What for, sir?

I'm Inspector Barnaby,
and you are, sir?

ALAN: Alan Bradford, curator.

I'm surprised you've gotanything left to curate, Mr.

Bradford-- fake alarmsystem on the front wall,

single mortise lock
on the door, windows

that won't shut properly.

Why don't you hang up a noticesaying please burglar me.

It's a question of
the reddies inspector.

We're not everyone's
idea of a fun day out.

Give it a go.

What that would mean then?

Tell me what happened
here yesterday.

I was doing the JonathanLowrie death tour with half

a dozen or so punters.

Uh-- the portrait was
fine when we left.

Hi, Alan.

Sorry.

Sandra, wonderful to see you.

Come on in.

Uh-- this is--

Inspector Barnaby.

That's DetectiveSergeant Troy behind you.

Hello.

Oh, um-- uh--

Sandra MacKillop I'm, uh--here to repair the painting.

MacKillop as in
MacKillop software?

That's us.
I'm Charles MacKillop.

I'm Sandra's brother-in-law.

SANDRA: And guardian angel.

GAVIN: Why do you need
one, Mrs. MacKillop?

Uh-- well, m--

my husband died, uh--
last year, and um--

Sandra, you said it.

It's marvelous.

Brilliant.

Oh, uh--sorry, inspector.

Alan, Charlie is turninga room into a studio for me,

but it isn't quite finished.

Is it OK if I start work here?

It's marvelous.

I mean, we can rope you off,turn you into an exhibit.

Jonathan Lowrie,royalist, philanthropist,

classical scholar, all
around excellent good.

Yes, 1591 to 1644.

How do you know?

It says so over there
where he's buried.

Somebody really
meant business.

Can you fix it?

CHARLES: Of course she can.

TOM: What did he look like,as a matter of interest?

We turned him into
a postcard on here--

sold like hot cakes.

[music playing]

Are you all right?

Yes.

Yes.

When do I start?

There's nothing
here for us, Troy.

File it under forget.

Did you notice the
smell in there, sir?

Well, it's a museum, Troy.

It's full of stuff long
past its sell by date.

Well, I did, Sergeant-- fish.

Your average
villain's gone soft--

carving up paintings.

They'll be breaking the speedlimit next, or dropping litter.

You know, why
choose that picture?

Why not one of the others?

And having broken in,
why not nick something?

Have you got something againstjust having a quiet day, sir?

What's your opinion, Nico?

Me?

Oh, come man, you'll beendoing this for semi-real

in a couple of weeks time.

NICO: Well, maybe it's a grudgeagainst the Lowrie family.

Going back 350 years?

Never.

A man dies, his wife'sa picture restorer trying

to get back into the game.

Lo and behold, a
portrait is damaged,

and she's called in to fix it.

Job creation, or is thatmy nasty suspicious mind?

Huh?

No comment, sir.

Have you got a
comment on that?

Yeah.

Someone took a shortcut
across the graveyard,

and it fell out of
their shopping bag.

Short cut where?

The museum's a dead end.

Sir, two minutes ago, therewas nothing here for us.

Now the world turns on apacket of smoked mackerel.

Put it in the canteenfreezer, label it carefully,

or it will end up on the menu.
- Look after this.

[music playing]

Morning, Jim

Morning.

Anything in the papers?

None of it worth reading?Come and sit down.

Tell me all the news
from the village.

All the gossip, you mean.

Oh, all right.

Tell me all the gossip,
and if there isn't any,

you can make some up.

Well, Michelle's
had her baby, and he

certainly doesn't like anyone Iknow, least of all her husband.

They've called himLeonardo, after the actor.

And then there's the
painting, of course.

That's got people going.

Yeah, what's the
feeling about that?

Is it deliberate or casual,or a ghost from Alan's past?

Well, Kate's his favorite.

Where do you want me tostart today, Jim, up or down?

Why don't we
start with coffee.

[music playing]

George Burton.

All things come
to him that waits.

The book-- what book?

Basically, the job
of a DS is to keep

a check on his Governor.

I mean, I'm lucky old Tom'sa good bloke to work for,

but he does look for troublewhere there isn't any.

He's also coming this way.

Troy, what do you
think of Alan Bradford?

I've handed it
back to uniform, sir.

I thought it was
no further action.

No, I-- I want to
show Nico how we work.

You know, the free
exchange of ideas.

Bradford?

Over the top, easily
rattled, born to carry

the can, otherwise harmless.

Nico?

Well, he's a bit theatrical,but, yeah, I agree with Gavin,

harmless.

Well I've got
news for you both.

The excellent,
wonderful, and marvelous

Mr. Bradford has got a record.

Sir, you said, Troy, thereis nothing here for us.

File it under forget.

And that was before wefound the smoked mackerel.

[music playing]

- Morning, ladies.
- Morning.

What's all this?

A piece of local history, Jim.

A suit of armor taken fromthe battlefield in 1644.

The dead man's descendanthas sent it back to us,

all the way from
Champagne, Illinois.

Well, I'll be damned.

How-- how is Sandra doing?

Marvelous.

Quite a hit.

In fact, I think we
could build on this,

Jim-- open a craft section.

You know, real people,
doing real things.

Come on.

Get your jacket, I'll buy youa pint, and talk you out of it.

[music playing]

[chair squeaking]

[screaming]

What's wrong?

I'm going outside--

I'll be all right.

I'm sorry.

I thought you
said she was better?

CHARLES: Hey, how did it go?

It went well, yes.

Good.

Only a couple of
things for you to sign.

Only take a minute.

Must be a nice place
to work, the museum.

If you like ghosts, yes.

Not that old chestnut, surely.

I'm trying to be sensible,Charlie, but look at him.

Is it just me?

Oh, come on, Sandy, theset of the eyes, I grant you,

but there the similarity ends.

The nose, the chin,
the way he's standing.

No, you're making
too much of it.

In any case, even if he doeslook a bit like David, so What

So now you think he does?

Come on, let's go home.

I'll cook you something exotic.

Or would you rather talk itover with Linda Marquis first?

I mentioned to thispoliceman that David had died

and Alan Bradford was thrilled,just because I used the word.

And then it all
came flooding back?

Yes.

And then he showed
us this post card.

Now, I've known that
portrait all my life,

but I've never made
the connection.

Does it remind you of anyone?

Well, Yes, David,
vaguely, I suppose.

Linda, Charlie says, no.

Which is it, for god's sake?

It doesn't matter.

The point is, it triggered yourmemory, not of the good times

that you and David
had shared together,

but of the months
of agony when you

couldn't accept his passing.

You forgot the 3D mantra
that we worked out,

should his name be mentioned.

Can you say it for me now?

David delight departed.

Now, mean it, Sandra.

David delight departed.

LINDA: And again, with
no doubt whatsoever.

David delight departed.

There are no ghosts
in Aspen Tallow Museum,

not in paintings, in rockingchairs, or under stone slabs.

They're only in your mind.

[music playing]

[knocking]

Gentleman caller at
this time of night.

That will give my neighborsomething to talk about.

Uh-- I won't keep
you Annie, uh--

Don't be dull, Jim.

What can I get you?

No, I-- I just want
to say this and I'll go.

Um-- I'm selling
the cottage, Annie.

Well, what for?

Oh-- oh, it's a long story.

Well, for one reason or another,I missed out on certain things,

like, um--

a wife and family.

I regretted it.

Well, I'm-- I'm too old forkids, but not for a wife.

Good looking man, like you,Jim, you could take your pick.

I have done.

[bells]

Jonathan Lowrie?

You don't believe in
ghosts, do you, Jim?

That will be the wind.

Those bells must weigh a ton.

Jim, you mustn't.

[music playing]

[gasps]

So what's it like?

The chap that
I'm playing doesn't

have much to say for himself.

And his boss has masses.

Look at it-- on and on and on.

They got that bit right then.

NICO: Yes.

Except unlike Tom, this
bloke doesn't see crime

with a capital k in every--

Morning, dad.

TOM: Morning, Cully.

Morning, Nico.

You were saying?

The difference betweenyou and the Chief Inspector

here, he's not nearly so--

so thorough.

Doesn't see a crime witha capital k in every packet

of smoked mackerel, is it?

Sorry.

You're sitting in my place.

Thank you.

Dad, it's for you--

Gavin.

It was just here.

I took a few steps
forward, paused,

looked round, and whop--

fist to the face.

Did you see the
owner of that fist?

Not really.

Dark hair, I think.

Dark features, dark clothes--

but it was dark.

Why were you here,
in the first place?

I heard the church bell.

It's a sign Jonathan
Lowrie's up and about.

And you came to meet him?

Of course not.

But someone was
ringing the bell.

Who were they?

What did they want?

Mr. Date, you found him, yeah?

That's right.

And what were you doing here?

Bit of a party, was it?

Oh, we heard the same
thing that Alan did,

so we came over to investigate.

I'm sorry, I don't thinkI've had the pleasure.

Anne Quarritch.

Ah, yes, you clean
the museum, yeah?

And before you ask if I'veseen any dodgy characters

hanging around, no I haven't.

Mr. Bradford?

Two just now.

[music playing]

Things are warming
up, Mr. Bradford.

First the painting, now this.

You think they're connected?

300 years of peace and quiet,then two crimes in two days,

of course they're connected.

We're pulling a crowd, sir.

Oh, god.

ELEANOR: Marcus,
I didn't realize

you were so out of condition.

Take some deep breaths beforewe get down to business.

TOM: Can I help you?

Yes, you can chain my
tricycle to that fence.

Oh, uh-- actually, thatwas a polite way of asking

you what are you doing here?

And we're police officers.

Really?

Well, then, you're theones who need help, not me.

Do let me know if I can
be of any assistance.

That you can, with names.

What's yours?

I am Marcus Lowrie,
Jonathan's great,

great, great, great, great,great, great, great, great

grandson.

Close were you?

What are you doing
here, Mr. Lowrie?

The bell tolled in
the middle of the night.

Jonathan is arisen, and wehave a question to ask him.

Well, tough.

The museum is closed
and you can't go in.

Alan, dear, don't be peevish.

What would your mother say?

She'd say, leave me alone.

I've been dead for 10 years.

Dead is an un-word,
as well you know.

Your mother is right
here with us now,

and she says, don't
be unkind to Eleanor.

Let her into the museum.

And I can hear
my old mother too,

saying, don't let this
lady come the old acid,

until you know who she is.

You're in the presence ofEleanor Bunsall, self-appointed

queen of Aspen Tallow.

What was the question youwanted to ask of Jonathan?

Is that any of your business?

Oh, please, indulge me.

I need to know what hedid with our families money.

I'm sorry?

It went missing
shortly after he died.

We've scrimped and saved for300 years, but not anymore.

In that case, be my guest.

Thank you.

Jonathan Lowrie, I'mEleanor Margaret Bunsall.

What have you got
to say for yourself?

Do you believe in lifeafter death, Mr. Bradford?

Of course not.

You told one of my colleagues,PC Angel, that you did.

That you'd seen this
Jonathan Lowrie.

Strictly with the punters.

They love it.

Shh.

I know you are Jonathan, sodon't let's play silly games.

Yes, go on, speak to her.

Quiet, Marcus.

We need your help with thefamily silver, Jonathan.

Any ideas?

I know where it is.

Shh.

[sighs]

Oh, really, this is too much.

Noises off from you, Marcus,chattering in the stalls,

and now a late entrance.

Sandra, quickly, take a seat.

Sorry, Miss Bunsall.

Sorry.

MARCUS: He's here.

[music playing]

[dog whimpers]

Everybody out.

What is it now?

Fire extinguisher.

[yelling]

Come on.

Just when we were
getting somewhere.

Hope it works.

Miss Bunsall, out now.

Stand clear.

It's under control.

Are you all right?

Yeah, just a bit
of shock, that's all.

- Which way did she go?
- Who?

Sandra MacKillop.

She's down there.

Troy?

Troy?

Who do you want?

Eleanor Bunsall
or Alan Bradford.

Bradford, sir.

Good man.

Ask her how she
started the fire.

Oh, it's--

Go on.

Mr. Bradford, word, if I may?

Would this be a good time tomention your criminal record?

Not if I have a choice
in the matter, no.

You mean the Mr. Tate,chairman of the trustees,

doesn't know about yourpassion for valuable bronzes?

I didn't think
he'd be interested.

I think he would
be fascinated.

No, inspector, please?

But you stole a bust
of Oliver Cromwell

from an auctioneer in Bristolvalued at $13,000 pounds.

Not for money, for love.

Oh, so it's the old
crime of passion, is it?

Who was she?

Not that kind of love.

Love of one's subject,
history, the Civil War,

Cromwell, our chief of men--

Mr. Barnaby wondered if
you had any ideas on how

the fire started, Miss Bunsall?

Heat, Sergeant.

Yes, but did you have
anything to do with it,

is what he meant, I think?

Do I look like a pyromaniac?

TOM: I'm not saying you'rethe Brinks Mat type,

but you did spend six monthsinside Rottingham jail.

Did you make any friendswhile you were there, or more

importantly, any enemies?

You mean, you think
I'm a target, inspector?

Well someone doesn't
like you, do they?

I mean, the painting, the nose.

Perhaps that's why they
moved the packing case.

The packing case,
inspector, it's

not where I left it last night.

Nico?

Sir?

I mean, yes, Tom?

Sir will do just fine.

The Marcus family silver,you say you know where it is?

Well, the inscription
on the burial slab.

It's Greek.

Jonathan Lowrie,

[speaking greek]

Here lies Jonathan Lowrie andall his worldly goods, sir.

You tell Marcus?

He wanted to know.

Would this be a typical
sort of day, Gavin?

Yep-- nutters,
then more nutters.

[music playing]

Inspector, I gather
you've had quite a day.

We certainly have.

I'll get you a drink.

Oh, please.

Why did you let
old Miss Bunsall

loose in the museum, Inspector?

Professional
curiosity, I suppose.

See, I don't believe in ghosts,just people with dark motives.

Is that how you explainthe burning packing cases?

At the moment, I
don't explain it all.

What I can tell you
is it was helped

along with a little paraffin.

Oh, hardly the
work of a ghost.

It's not a joke, Charlie.

Something's going on in there.

Otherwise, why is
Inspector Barnaby here?

Actually, I came to askyou, why did you rush away

in such a hurry this afternoon?

Is that a crime?

Sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I was frightened.

I was-- I needed
to find Charlie.

I-- anything else?

Yes.

Why did Mr. Bradford chooseyou to repair the painting?

Because I'm the onlyrestorer within 30 miles.

It just seems
odd that as you're

trying to get back into
the swing of things,

someone wrecks a painting.

I resent that.

Resent what?

His implication.

Which is?

You saw what happenedthis afternoon, Inspector.

I'm in no mood--

Oh, come on, they-- theyhave to ask these things.

Well, I don't
have to listen to--

Will she be all right?

The short term answer is yes.

As regards to the longterm, I really have no idea.

Why is she like she is?

When David, my
brother, died, Sandra

couldn't believe it, literally.

She had a kind of a breakdown.

So I moved her in
here with me and tried

to protect her, if you like.

From what?

Oh, you know,
garden fence gossip.

David was the fittest
man you'd ever meet.

Some people suggested hemight have taken his own life.

But he didn't?

No.

He wasn't the sort, Inspector.

You and he were
business partners, yeah?

Yeah.

And he left quite a
gap, I can tell you.

Sandra may have
lost her husband,

but I lost somebody who meantmore to me than I realized.

Tell me about Eleanor Bunsall.

[scoffs]

Rider of
broomsticks and minder

of other people's business.

Is she harmless, do you think?

So long as you don't listento the rubbish she talks.

Unfortunately, Sandra
thinks the world of her.

[music playing]

Hello.

What's that, Jim.

Oh, it's a metal detector.

I want to put an article
in the parish magazine,

there is no silver in
Jonathan Lowrie's grave,

so don't waste your
time digging it up.

I love this place, Annie.

I don't really want to leave it.

ANNE: Then why are you going?

No choice.

I'm going to France.

I've got a house
there in the south.

It's miles off the beatentrack, but there's olive trees

for shade, vineyard for wines.

The sea is just a stone's throw.

What do you say?

- Me?
- Think it over.

[beeping]

Sounds like I've
just struck gold.

Buried treasure?

JAMES: Yes, you come toclaim your share, Inspector?

No.

My sergeant, here, is a verypractical man, as a rule.

But there's a tiny
piece of him that's

willing to believe in
ghosts and their ability

to set fire to packing cases.

Now, it's almost
this time yesterday,

almost to the minute.

Troy, give me your hand.

Pardon?

Give me your hand.

Ooh.

That's how it happened.

Old glass, maybe 200
years old, uneven,

with a prism in
it, which means--

what does that mean, Troy?

Whoever moved the packingcase knew this place very well.

Like a curator, or a
trustee, or a cleaner.

The police think I cutthe portrait myself to get

the job of repairing of it.

I'm sure they don't.

And I must finish the
job for Alan's sake.

For your own sake.

Well, yes, yes.

Yes, of course.

Is it a problem?

I-- I don't know where to doit, at home or at the museum.

Oh, I see, the museum hastaken on another dimension.

I keep thinking I see
David standing over me,

that he's actually there.

Well, let's tackle that.

If you stay away
from the museum,

your imagination will
make that feeling worse.

If you go there, you
can deal with it.

Do you feel the need
to prove that you're

not actually going mad?

I need to see David.

That's what frightens me.

ANNE: All right, boys and girls,finish up what you're doing.

Time we moved on now.

If you'd just like to followme to the upstairs exhibit--

Sandy, I--

I need some rivets for
this chap's gauntlet.

I'll be across, in my
office, two minutes.

[door opening]

[music playing]

David?

David?

Is that you?

ALAN: Sandra?

Sandra?

Are you all right?

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

You were quite right tocall me in on this, Sandra.

Why didn't you do so earlier?

I should have.

I know.

I used to tell youeverything in the past, but--

Charles, isn't it?

Typical man-- thinks he'sthe only one who can help.

Well, even if he
thinks he I'm going mad,

but he's too polite to say.

Madness is an un-word, dear.

It does not exist.

There are only varying
degrees of sanity.

Yours and mine just happento be more varied than most.

Now, what can I do for you?

Well, all these strange thingsthat have been happening-- uh--

the portrait, the rockermoving, the bell, the fire--

people say it's Jonathan
Lowrie, but I think

David's trying to reach me.

Well, we'll soon find out.

David?

What the devil is going on?

Out with it, man.

[music playing]

Bastards.

You stole it.

You stole my inheritance.

Give it to me.

Give it to me, I say.

No.

[groans]

[yelling]

Eleanor, no.

We are modern, Sandra.

We fear nothing.

Follow me.

[music playing]

Inspector, who hasdone this terrible thing?

I don't know, Mr. Bradford.

I've only just got here.

To think, I could
be lying in there.

It's Marcus Lowrie, sir.

Came to dig up the
family fortune,

but someone got
there before him.

Only I don't mean there
was a fortune, Tom--

pennies and a
leather bag, though.

God, they've mad a mess
of him, haven't they?

What with?

Corner of something
solid and square.

He'd been hit six times.

But not with this?

No blood, and it
doesn't match the dents.

Who reported it?

Eleanor Bunsall, sir.

Oh.

Break out the body armor, Troy.

[dog barks]

It's Lowrie's dog, sir.

We can't just leave him here.

Put him in the car.

Put him in the car.

Come on.

A security system, Mr. Tate.

I believe I did mention it.

I can hardly get it
installed overnight.

Nevertheless, I'd like aproper chat with you, please,

sometime.
- What for?

Well, you thought there
was money in that grave,

didn't you?

Your metal detector
told you as much.

You will need a statementfrom me as well, Inspector.

Why?

Did you kill him?

No, of course, I didn't.

Brilliant at making you
feel guilty, isn't he?

GAVIN: Why pennies
in the grave, sir?

TOM: For the
ferryman, if you want.

NICO: This Jonathan
Lowrie, Greek scholar,

he'd have taken somecoins to pay the ferryman

to row him over the river Styx.

Why didn't you
know that, Troy?

Do a left here.

Rule number-- what
are we up to now?

Uh-- seven, sir.

Rule number 7--

never use the indicator.

It keeps the other
drivers on their toes.

Is that right, Troy?

What were you doing
in the graveyard

at midnight, Miss Bunsall?

Is that any of your business?

Oh, indulge me, again.

Insomnia.

I often walk at night.

In a graveyard, alone?

I have so many friends there.

So there you are, chattingaway with a few old friends.

You hear Marcus scream.

You run inside.

And there he is dead.

Not dead, Inspector,
merely murdered.

Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am,
dead is an un-word.

Did you see anyone else?

Such as?

Well I had in
mind his un-killer.

He must have still been
there in the museum.

Oh, if I'd known that,
I'd have stayed on,

had it out with them.

Of course, I'm
very glad you didn't.

I was armed, Inspector.

Sir, this is CS gas.

Yes, I picked it up in France,at the World Cup, where it came

in very handy, I can tell you.

Miss Bunsall, it is
illegal in this country,

and I'm confiscating it.

In that case, I shallrefuse to cooperate further.

TOM: It's too late.

You've already told us
all we need to know,

except of course, who
was with you last night.

My lips are sealed, inaccordance with my version

of the Hippocratic oath.

Oh, the Hippocratic oath, eh?

So you were there
professionally?

Who with?

Any more questions,
sensible ones?

Yes?

Does nothing die inyour world, Miss Bunsall,

you know, people,
plants, animals?

You are smarter than
you look, young man.

We are all part of
an endless saga.

We fade, yes, but
only to reappear

in ever brighter colors.

So you can talk to JonathanLowrie, the dickie birds, or--

or even a Christmas
tree, just as

easily as you can talk to us?

More so, because they
appreciate what I say.

TOM: Oh, right.

Well, thank you.

Thank you, Miss Bunsall.

Thanks for your time.

You're not going
already, surely?

Why, is there somethingelse you want to tell us?

No, but he hasn't finished
mending my puncture yet.

God spare me from
little old ladies.

She's a cantankerous old bag,and daft as a bloody brush.

Oh, I don't know, Troy.

I rather like her.

Some of what she
says does make sense.

I mean, we are all part
of an eternal pageant.

If you say so, sir.

And on her own admission,she doesn't see murder

as killing someone, does she?

Ah.

And she was there whenMarcus copped it, you mean?

Mm.

Oh, hello.

What are those two up to?

Inspector, come and join us.

If I was to ask you where yoursister-in-law was at midnight,

sir, you'd say in
bed, I take it?

Well, she was, wasn't she?

We think she was in thegraveyard with Eleanor Bunsall,

trying to contact
her dead husband.

CHARLES: Oh, please, no.

Inspector, have you everknown anyone like Sandra,

with her symptoms, I mean.

What exactly are they?

The usual stuff associatedwith a breakdown-- mood swings,

uncertainty, sudden panic.

That's so unlike
the real Sandra.

I mean, I've always
thought of her

as a strong,
determined, capable.

People change.

Especially after
losing a partner.

Yeah, but you told usCharlie, Sandra told us herself

that she was getting stronger.

Now in the space of a few
days, all that's gone.

Can you explain that?

Not really, but one or
two things do bother me.

Like what?

The portrait gets slashed.

Sandra is the obvious
choice to fix it.

Pop that the other way
around though, she'll

be chosen to repair it,
so let's cut one up.

CHARLES: Are you
saying you think there

might some purpose in all this?

Go on, Mr. Bradford.

And what's more, it's
a portrait that reminds

her of her dead husband.

You were there the day Ishowed her the postcards.

You all right?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

When do I start?

The portrait does bear
an uncanny resemblance

to David, yes.

Which puts him firmly
back in her mind.

But she has known that
portrait all her life.

Why is it suddenly so important?

ALAN: Because of other thingsthat happened around it--

bells ring in the night, thepacking cases catch fire.

Yesterday, I left her
alone in the museum

for two minutes, during whichtime a bust of Charles I

fell to the ground.

Sandra says it moved
of its own accord.

And she went straightto Eleanor Bunsall, Troy.

She did, too.

How do you know?

Because I've been
following her around

for the past couple of days.

I'm worried.

Sandy?

Thank god you were here.

What on earth
are you doing here?

Miss Bunsall?

Is he dead?

Yes.

But how?

There's no one here.

Make leave, both of you,quickly and quietly-- quick.

TOM: You were there,
Mr. MacKillop?

Thank god.

Supposing he lashed out atSandra, or even Miss Bunsall.

In Miss Bunsall's case,
he'd have regretted it.

Where's Sandra now?

CHARLES: In bed.

I can and wake her, if you like.

TOM: No, no, don't do that.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

We'll leave it for now.

[music playing]

So now Sandra's
being got at, is she?

But not in your
book, obviously, Troy?

- Right.
- OK.

Tell me this.

Why was Marcus killed?

For the family dosh.

There wasn't any.

Well, the killer
didn't know that.

Well, he would have, by thetime Marcus walked in, he'd dug

down as far as the
skeleton-- hadn't found

so much as a gallstone.

All right, then,
he was pissed off.

All that work, for nothing.

So he swings around, clobbershim, turns him into cat's meat.

The way you tell it,
Troy, so graphically,

one might almost be there.

Annie, I don't mean to--to push you on this, but--

It's all right, Jim,
I have thought over.

The answer is yes,
I'll come with you.

You won't regret
it, I promise you.

When do we leave?

Well, I-- I think we should gosoon, like in a couple of days.

Why?

What's the panic?

Barnaby wants to talk to me.

Oh, Jim, you haven't doneanything daft, have you?

Like killing Marcus, no, no.

I-- I just don't want
the police trampling

all over my past life.

There's one or two
things you should know

about me before we go,Annie, just in case you--

you disapprove.

Well, why don't you
tell me about them

somewhere more comfortable?

[music playing]

Who the hell are you?

Yeah, the point
is, who are you, Jim?

I reckon you were the banker forGeorge Burton and his cronies.

You've shafted them.

And now they're all dead,you can spend the money.

On your bike.

$100 quid?

With all the plans I've got?

$100,000, more like.

[chuckles]

[yelling]

Were not going to see MissBunsall again, are we, sir?

- We can if you want.
- No.

Just that after the puncture,I had to unblock a drain,

putty a window,
and rehang a tile.

That's police work
for you-- helping

old ladies across the road.

Right, I'll have
an egg and bacon

bap, a large white
coffee with two sugars,

and whatever you
fancy for yourself.

Sir?

Um-- coffee, black.

If you wanted something
more substantial,

I wouldn't rat on you,
well, back home, I mean.

No sugar.

Nice lad.

But get a load of
this, he is going

to be paid more for playingme, than I am for being me.

It's a funny old life, Troy.

Listen, I want you
to find out how

much Sandra MacKillop is worth.

You can lean on our old
friend, Mr. Jocelyn.

According to this, he is
the company's solicitor.

[music playing]

Hop in Anne.

Ta.

Oh.

Ah.

There you go.

Elbows.

Jim, Mr. Barnaby is here.

Jim, I--

GAVIN: Blimey,
they've been going

at it some, whoever they are.

Troy, upstairs, go on.

Nico, the front room.

Was he going on holiday?

Kind of.

He was going to
take me with him.

What do you thinks
happened to him?

Where to?

France.

France for good.

What?

He's leaving all this?
Selling up?

NICO: Sir?
- Yeah?

Who is he, Annie?

I bet you money his name
isn't really James Tate.

There's a mess
upstairs, as well, sir.

They've really turned it over.

But he's not there?

No.

What is going on, Annie?

He's in that book.

George Burton.

Last of a gang on
whom our Mr. Tate

was keeping a very close eye.

Suitcase packed, ready togo, to France, you say?

Where abouts in France?

South.

Olive trees, vineyards, sea--

that's what he promised me.

And that takes
money, lots of it.

It doesn't seem real, does it?

No.

But he was there.

We all saw him.

Marcus was a greedy,
lazy, old man, Sandra.

If he hadn't been,
he'd still be alive.

- Hello, you two.
- Hi, Alan.

Um-- we've come
for the painting.

I'm going to finish
it off in my studio.

Ah, morning, Inspector.

Morning.

Sergeant Troy.

That piece of china thatgot broken, what does it live?

Right here.

It landed there,
in a dozen pieces.

And you've no
idea why it fell?

None whatsoever.

Mrs. MacKillop, do
you have any ideas?

Uh-- sorry, no.

Just in case you
had any doubts,

there are no ghosts
here, just human beings,

with all the usual foibles--

greed, envy, malice.

Someone opened this
window from the outside,

and then they pulled on anylon thread with a fish line,

maybe, which was loopedaround the top of the figure,

and when the figure smashed,they pulled the thread clear.

Simple as that?

ALAN: But why, Inspector?

Do you smell anything?

Fish.

Hmm.

Do you have a cellar here?

Yeah.

Show it to me.

Oh, right.

[music playing]

Here we are.

[yelling]

You all right, sir?

Get after him.

Come on.

- Who is he?
- Don't know.

You must have
known he was here.

I didn't, I swear it.

GAVIN: We've lost him, sir.

You get paid to catchhim, Troy, not to lose him.

Rule number 24, don't
expect any sympathy.

Who was he, sir?

He, Nico, was a ghost,with a weakness for fish.

No real damage, Tom.

You'll have a nasty
bruise though.

Arnica.

A spade, you say?

I didn't know gardening
could be so dangerous.

This was ghost busting, Cathy.

Thanks a lot, Tracy.

I'll call you next week, OK?

Old friend?

Uh-- new friend.

Right.

Well, give my love toJoyce and Cully, won't you?

Uh-- Cathy, I wouldn't askthis unless it were important,

and I know you've got a waitingroom full of people out there,

but if I wanted to drive someoneover the edge, could I do it?

I'm living proof of that, sir.

Seriously.

Yes, of course you could.

Even to suicide?

That would depend
on your victim,

but you can induce paranoiain all sorts of ways--

psychologically,
chemically, surgically.

Who are we talking about?

Sandra MacKillop.

Ah, that's why you camehere, not to Causton General.

Well, Sandra, as I'm sure youknow, is a patient of mine,

so don't expect any details.

Even though she
might be in danger?

I would like to
help you, yes, but--

I did send her to a counselorover the death of her husband.

Now, she might be less ethical.

What's her name, doctor?

Linda Marquis.

She's good at her job, but shemay already be known to you.

[music playing]

I've had a word with
David, by the way.

Have you?

What did he say?

Oh, he didn't say anything.

But I thought you justsaid you'd spoken to him?

No, no, you don't understand
how it all works, dear.

The Davids of this worlddon't actually speak to me.

I just put myself in theirshoes and speak for them.

They're rather
one-sided conversations,

something like being
back in the classroom.

Well, what do you say, then?

I say that David wantsyou to be the fun, loving,

confident girl you always were.

So, down to business.

What's made you change?

His d-- his departure.

Well, that's part of
the problem, certainly.

What about diet, through?

Diet?

We are what we eat, Sandra.

Everyone knows that,
but who carries

it to its logical conclusion?

Did you know, forinstance, that spinach can

be a very depressing vegetable?

And that fennel is uplifting?

No.

Uh-- Charlie does all
the cooking and I--

I don't think he'd be very in--

Take me through a
typical day's menu.

Breakfast--

The cellar dwellers gear, sir.

Ha, ha.

Have you got a name for him?

No, nor any sign
of the murder weapon.

Pencil and paper, Nico.

Yeah.

One round of
sandwiches, pilchard,

going off with a vengeance.

You think Sandra MacKillop'slife is in danger,

sir, or just her sanity?

That's a good
question, huh, Troy?

One pocket knife,
army, Swiss, there of.

Have you heard back fromthe MacKillop's solicitor?

No, he's playing hard to get.

One donkey jacket-- blue.

Then lean on him.

Look, sir, we've
got a real body--

Marcus Lowrie-- and a
couple of real suspects,

favorite being this geezer.

Shouldn't we find out whohe is and where he's gone?

He has gone to ground, Troy.

Don't ask me where, butI think I know who he is.

You do?

Yeah.

And if someone would do aspot of housebreaking for me,

I could prove it.

You are too kind, Troy.

Ta, sir.

Thank you.

Have you heard anything,Mr. Barnaby, about Jim?

I've had a forensic teamin his cottage, Annie.

They found some blood
on one of the chairs.

Uh-- there was a
fight, certainly,

but we don't know
the extent of it.

So where is he then?

Ditched me, hasn't he, likeevery man I've ever met.

I'll let you know the
moment we hear anything.

Now give us a pint
now, white wine.

There you go.

Why this pub, Tom?

Oh, what's the matter,
don't you like it?

I love it.

Now you answer my question.

I'm meeting Troy here.

If he doesn't get
caught, that is.

Doing what?

Breaking in to Anne
Quarritch's house.

It's delegation, Joyce.

Troy doing that.

Nico and Cully--

Yes, where are
they this evening?

Jim Tate's cottage,
in search of his past.

Evening, Mrs. B.

Hello, Gavin.

We're on set, with
a slight variation.

Which is?

The smoked mackerel.

I did put it in
the canteen freezer

and I did label it clearly.

Don't worry, I nipped into thesupermarket on the way here,

bought us some more.

Won't be a moment.

Go on.

Oh, ta.

What can I get you?

I'll have a large,
straight answer.

This is a till receipt.

I found it pinned to a
board in your kitchen.

On it, you'll find smokedmackerel, at $2 pounds pounds,

$13 p.

That is a packet of smokedmackerel, priced $2 pounds

$13 p, found in the graveyard.

You were taking it
to the man who's been

hiding in the museum's cellar.

Should have turned
him in, Annie.

Why didn't you?

Because he
threatened to kill me.

Who is he?

I was once married to him.

Ralph Edward Bailey, doing10 years for manslaughter,

absconded from Durham
jail four weeks ago.

You divorced him June 1987, wentback to using your maiden name.

And he's killed again,
by the looks of things--

Marcus Lowrie.

You've been harboring
a very dangerous man.

How did you know
it was me, Inspector?

Remember when we gave youa lift to Jim's cottage,

you dropped your shopping?

A bit heavy on the smoked fish.

- Who was it for?
- Me.

TOM: No.

It was for Ralph at the museum.

Well, he is not there now.

So where is he?

He's hiding out at
Jim Tate's cottage.

[music playing]

[whispering]

I'll say one thing for
that Scene of Crime lot,

they sure can tidy up.

What exactly are welooking for though, Nico?

I don't know.

What are you looking for?

Only uh-- I might just have it.

Let's start at the top
and work our way down.

[noise]

[music playing]

[sirens]

[thud]

Cully?

Cully?

Hi, dad.

Where is he?

Attic.

[car starting]

It's all right.

It's only a car.

What about Nico, sir?

No, not this time.

I don't want him to
see our darker side.

I'm not sure I want
to see that myself.

Last night, you got from thestation to Jim Tate's cottage

in four minutes flat.

Everything I ever said
about your driving

I take back, unreservedly.

Where are we going, sir?

To see Linda Marquis.

GAVIN: Do you want to getbreakfast on the way, sir?

TOM: On me.

So Marcus was killed
by Ralph Bailey, who

also robbed Jonathan's grave?

If there was money
there, I'm sure he did.

But why play the ghost
to Sandra MacKillop?

To get her out of the museum.

Her presence was
cramping his style.

Well, Bradford's there
all the time as well--

didn't try getting
him out of the way.

No, but he did smack him one.

Then off he went
to see James Tate,

because Annie said he had money.

[music playing]

TOM: It all hangs togetherTroy, I grant you that.

it's too clear cut.

GAVIN: Is that wrong, sir?

TOM: That was--
life's not like that.

GAVIN: So to beef things up,we call on this Linda Marquis?

TOM: Not for the
hell of it, Troy.

Sandra MacKillop is at
the bottom of all this,

and Linda Marquis
is her confessor,

as indeed, I am yours.

How many fried
eggs a week should

you not have more than, then?

I have no idea, sir.

Four.

Bacon roll is just as bad.

I spy, with my little eye,something beginning with c.

Yeah, all right, sir, I know--

cholesterol.

No.

Charles.

Good morning, Mr. MacKillop.

You're up bright and early.

CHARLES: Morning.

Um-- must look odd,
Inspector, but, um--

Sandra is not the only onewho has needed counseling.

It's been a tough
time for me, too.

I can imagine.

LINDA: Is this a
professional matter

or a personal one, Inspector?

I'd like to know who'sgot in for Sandra MacKillop?

I thought you were
investigating a murder?

Oh, we are.

What sort of a
business do you think

I'm running here, Mr. Barnaby?

TOM: A very successful one,by the looks of things--

first client, 8:30 AM.

Mr. MacKillop.

People have busy lives.

I try to accommodate them.

And I never betray
their confidence.

Oh, no, no, you are
very good at keeping

secrets, especially your own.

Do I have any?

Oh, you have a humdinger.

And you fit thedescription so perfectly--

heroin, chic.

It was a long time ago.

A short two years ago.

All right.

But it's over now.

TOM: And for that, more powerto your elbow, or just above it,

but what would the likes ofCharles MacKillop and Sandra

say if they heard about that?

They'd say it makes
me more understanding,

more of a human being.

Oh, right.

I'll ask them.

No.

If I tell you something, willshe know that it came from me?

Mr. Bradford?

I'm keen on history,
too, especially yours.

It seems that in the
dim and distant past,

you and Sandra
MacKillop were an item.

Then David MacKillopstepped in, pots of money,

and you was sidelined.

And we'd like to know
how that made you feel--

bitter, angry, vengeful?

Not so long ago, you sawme as a victim in all this,

Inspector.

Slashed portrait,
fist in the face.

I've changed my mind.

How did it make me feel?

Relieved.

Oh, come on.

Passionate romance with abeautiful woman, suddenly

drops you, and you
were beside yourself.

You've been trying to getback at her ever since.

That's simply not
true, Inspector.

Yes, I did, once throw mycap at Sandra, but mainly

for my father's sake.

I'm sorry?

He was forever nagging
me to find a girlfriend.

And I did try and fall in lovewith Sandy, I promise you,

but my heart just wasn't in it.

And why was that?

If sexuality
were the civil war,

I'd be a Cavalier,
not a roundhead.

You what?

I have never been attractedto the opposite sex.

I don't think we needtrouble you any further, sir.

Just a sec.

Charles MacKillop-- no
girlfriends, no wife.

In this, um-- civil war ofsexuality, where does he stand?

On your side, Inspector.

Which is also mine.

I never doubted it
for a moment, Gavin.

Sir, Sandra
MacKillop in her will--

Mr. Jocelyn dew it up for her infavor of her sister in Canada.

Say what she's worth.

Well, she owns half the
company, which is valued

at just over $10 million.

That's worth fighting about.

I am the resurrection andthe life, sayeth the Lord.

He that believeth in me,though he were dead, yet shall

he live.

And whosoever liveth
and believeth in me,

shall never die.

[music playing]

I know that my Redeemer
liveth, and that he

shall stand at the Latterday upon the earth.

Vicar-- halt.

What's wrong?

I'm sorry.

False alarm.

Carry on.

VICAR: And though this
body be destroyed,

yet shall I see God, whomI shall see for myself

and mine eyes shall behold--

Not right.

Inspector, all is
not well down there.

Bring it up.

[music playing]

All right, Troy, off you go.

What am I looking for, sir?

Squatters.

Go on.

Oh.

[screams]

TOM: Who is it?

James Tate, Inspector.

Who else would it be?

It is James Tate, sir.

[crying]

You are sitting in my chairand you are probably wearing

my socks, aren't you, eh?

Who did you say is
coming to take him?

He's a young PC called Angel.

Ah.

He said he's
coming down today.

Tom, I think we'vefound James Tate for you.

George Burton and Co.

stole $3 million pounds
worth of stuff in cash,

it would net $1 million.

They hired an accountant,Michael Whistler,

to pay off safe houses,
car dealers, lawyers.

Bent cops.

Yeah.

And he invested
what was left over.

But one or two of the gang,who were all inside by now,

wondered whether it reallyhad boiled down to $1 million,

or was it $1.5 million.

And if so, what happenedto the other half million?

They sent a heavy to seeWhistler and he'd gone,

disappeared into thin air.

JOYCE: And you think
he's James Tate.

With the gang all inside, hehad time to reinvent himself,

plastic surgery, if necessary.

Then pop up five years
later in Aspen Tallow.

Well done, both of you.

Phone.

Barnaby.

Yeah, I'll be there
in 10 minutes.

They found him and mycar on a dockside in Hull.

He was trying to getworking on a Polish trawler.

Just mad about a fish, eh?

OK, Ralph.

What's your beef with
Sandra MacKillop?

You what?

If he knew any French now,he'd point to himself as moi.

Christ, where'd
they dig you up?

We'll come to
the digging later.

In the meantime,
what's your grudge

against Sandra MacKillop?

I don't have one.

Convicted killer escapes
from Durham jail,

comes all the way back herejust a admire the scenery.

Oh, do us a favor.

You had an old score to settle.

So you tried to
drive her nuts--

bells in the night, breakingchina, burning packing cases.

If you must know,
I've always had

a highest regard for Sandra.

Ask her?

No.

You've been playingghosts, in between killing

Marcus Lowrie and James Tate.

That's it.
I'm done.

Solicitor?

It's got to be him, sir, oris that still too clear cut?

Just a little.

Motive, money,opportunity-- bags of it.

On top of which, since we
found him in the cellar,

all this ghosty stuff stopped.

Sandra, you sure youdon't mind me rushing off?

The meeting's in half an hour.

You go ahead, Charlie.

I'm sure Alan must
be here by now.

Thanks.
CHARLES: Pleasure.

Oh, and call in at
the office later on.

There's a heap of
stuff for you to sign.

Uh-huh.

[music playing]

[screaming]

San-- Sandra, what is it?

What-- what-- I--

TOM: Michael Aron Whistlerwho became James Tate.

Look at his form, sir.

Oh, spoken like
a proper copper.

Hello, Cathy.

Uh-- Nico, chair
for Dr. Bullard.

Tom, it's about
Sandra MacKillop.

You know you asked if it waspossible to drive someone mad?

Well, 10:00 o'clock this
morning, Anne Quarritch

brought Sandra to mysurgery as near to the edge

as I've seen her.
- Why?

What had happened to her?

She claims to have seenwriting on the museum wall--

David Delight Departed.

Should that mean something?

Thank you.

It's a mantra, whichLinda Marquis taught her,

which brings me to why here.

[music playing]

TOM [ON PHONE]: Mrs. MacKillop,it's Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I'd like us to me, please.

I need your help.

Hello, are you still there.

Yes.

TOM [ON PHONE]:
Somewhere private.

And I'd like you to come alone.

Do you know the lake
at Martyr Warren?

[music playing]

Two people have been killed,both by Robert Bailey.

But there's a problem.

He couldn't have put thewriting on the museum wall

because he was locked
up at the time.

I don't think anyoneliving did it, Inspector.

Sandra, you are
as sane as I am.

I can prove it to you.

David Delight Departed.

You saw it because
it was there.

But when Alan went to--

It wasn't there.

You're the only one with anyfaith left in me, Inspector.

What's gotten into me?

At first, I thought
someone wanted you dead.

But now, I believe, that'sthe last thing they want.

Will you help me?

Sandra?

Come in.

Come in.

Close your eyes, Sandra.

What do you see?

Darkness?

SANDRA: Images of this room,the windows, uh-- plants, you.

LINDA: So it can be
with our thoughts.

They can appear on
the wall of our mind.

I saw those
words at the museum

because David put them there.

No, Sandra, you
put them there.

He's telling me something,and I'm refusing to listen.

Linda, you're the only personthat really understands me.

You've got to help.

There are no ghosts there.

They've been conjured
up by the likes

of Alan Bradford for the sakeof his visitors, but not by you.

I will take you to themuseum and I'll prove it.

When can we go?

This evening.

GAVIN: I've got
that stuff from Dr.

Bullard, sir, the drug stuff.

TOM: George Bullard
lent me that and knocked

up the slide for me, too.

How does it tie
in with the murder?

I'll tell you in the car.

Just one or two
lose ends to tie up.

We'll have coffee later.

Well, tell them that
Ralph meant to kill you,

or that very least he'd havebeaten you up, yet again.

[phone ringing]

All the more reason to
have gone to the police,

that's what he'll say.

Won't you?

I'm sorry.

Harboring a criminal.

You just tell me
the truth, Annie,

and I promise I'll
do the best for you.

Can't say fairer
than that, can I?

Hello, Mr. Bradford.
- Hello.

How did Ralph know
that Jim Tate had money?

Did you tell him?
- No.

He must have
overheard Jim talking

about his place in France,one day in the museum.

Can I ask something?

How did old Bunsall knowit was Jim in that grave?

The power of extended logic,also common sense, if you like.

We've all got it,
but she uses it.

You mean, it's
not a special gift,

like she'd have us believe?

No, of course not.

Not like she'd be the
one to tell us, huh?

In the mean time, you
didn't know that Ralph

was hiding in your cellar?

No.

That makes you either
very naive or stupid.

How about engrossed
in other things?

Such as?

My work.

Trying to shine a light indark places, like Aspen Tallow.

That much we have in
common, Mr. Bradford.

Anything else, Troy?

Yes, sir.

Since when have you
two been so, um--

friendly?

I'm here to give
Annie her wages.

I do so every week andshe makes me a cup of tea.

It's called a ritual.

And so far as I know, it'sperfectly legal, Gavin.

[music playing]

Oh, why is that, I wonder?

See?

No words on walls,
no moving China.

It's funny, I'd never noticed itbefore, but you're quite right,

it's just like him.

And Jonathan Lowrie,
back in his place.

How are you, Jonathan?

If only you knew what
you'd put us through.

It's the wind.

[music playing]

What's wrong?

Look.

What?

There.

Can't you see him?

See what?

It's David.

Look.

Sandra, you and I are
the only people here.

David is dead and buriedand over in the graveyard.

Then who is that?

Where?

What are talking about?

Are you sure you
can't see him, Linda?

Sandra, you need serious help,and this was not a good idea.

Can you see me, Miss Marquis?

Troy, you see that
ghost over there?

Go and run him
through without that.

Go on.

Charlie?

Charlie, what have
I ever done to you?

Hey.

I've been 25
years in this game,

and I've never laid a
finger on a prisoner.

But today, I think Iunderstand why some people do.

All right, so the joke
got a bit out of hand.

Joke?

A joke?

Well, how about this for a deal.

You make me laugh, and youcan walk through that door,

scot-free.

LINDA: Better still, tell us whywe're here in the first place.

Directives-- SandraMacKillop, Charles MacKillop,

in equal measure.

David left his shareof the business to Sandra

and you wanted it.

You couldn't kill her, becausethen it would go to her sister,

so you tried to get powerof attorney over her

by driving her mad.

GAVIN: What for, Mr. MacKillop?

So you could flog it, run offwith Miss needle features here?

I resent that.

TOM: The clinic you
were in, say you

weren't hooked just
on heroine, but also

on a drug called Zolazepam.

That's a mind bender.

And you kept back a supplyof it, just in case.

And you hooked Sandra
MacKillop on it.

Not me.

TOM: Ooh, watch out, Charlie.

She's jumping ship.

Go on, Linda, do
yourself a bit of good.

How did he do it?

In the meals he's
always cooking her.

And then a couple
of months back,

according my medical
expert, he withdrew it.

Now, it's a drug that'sharder to kick than heroin,

with 54 known side effects--

paranoia, confusion, insecurity,panic, disorientation, the lot.

There you are.

Read all about it.

You know, Charlie, if youhad stayed away this woman,

we might never have got to you.

What?

Remember that morning wefound you outside her house,

pretending there was
nothing between you.

Except for a
spot of counseling,

which had gone on all night.

Inspector-- Inspector,before we go any further,

none of this was my idea.

Oh, it was her fault, was it?

She counseled you to to driveyour sister-in-law insane?

Split them up, Troy.

Put her in a cell.

No, stay where you are.

Feel free.

Why?

Because you are one
of those women who's had

everything thrown your
way from love to money.

I just wanted a little of both.

TOM: Right.

Let's clear up the
details, shall we?

Slashed painting?

That was Linda.

Chosen for it's
likeness to David?

Yes.

And the bell at
night, broken china?

That was me.

The packing cases, too.

Spent a lot of time in
the museum as a kid,

so I knew the hot spot.

The writing on the wall?

Linda, but I
hit Alan Bradford.

That's something I wantedto do for a long time.

Can I go now?

This isn't this somesort of priestly confession

where I give you 10 Hail Marysand send you on your way again.

You mentally tortured
your brother's wife.

But can you go
to prison for it?

Playing the caring relative--certainly made a fool of me.

I doubt that I'll dotime for bruising your ego.

No, maybe you're right.

But I have a big, fat
card up my sleeve.

I'm holding a man down thecorridor for two murders.

Ralph Bailey-- yeah.

Ralph Bailey, yes.

Ralph says you're
the man I'm after.

He saw you bury James Tate.

And the idea really
appeals to me.

I mean, he's going
back to jail anyway.

And like you say,
you might get off,

so why don't I fit you upwith murder, or even two?

Now, look, Inspector, he'sthe one who buried Jim Tate.

I watched him do it.

In the absence of anyproof, I prefer his version.

But I can help you, notwith Marcus, I wasn't there,

but a couple of nights later,I was on my way to the museum,

2:00-3:00 in the morning.

At the gate, I could hear himdigging over at Marcus's grave.

It was Bailey.

Before he dumped
Jim in the grave,

he stole his watch
and a gold chain.

Find that, and that's
proof enough, isn't it?

Why don't you
write it all down?

Then what happens?

Well, then I don't
charge you with a murder

you didn't commit.

I said, Solicitor.

Oh, they've all gone
to the moon, Ralph.

There's a bloke upstairs bythe name of Charlie MacKillop.

Do you know him?

Since we were kids.

He says he saw you beat
Marcus Lowrie to death.

And you believe him?

We can point the evidenceyour way, if we need to.

Well, you don't need to.

I'd heard Jim Tate run a metaldetector over Jonathan's grave,

so that night I lifted the slab.

[music playing]

Halfway through, in
walks Charlie MacKillop.

He set something up--

a slide projector.

He was testing it
when Marcus pulls up.

GAVIN: And you chose aplace for peace and quiet.

TOM: What did Charlie do?RALPH: Hid in the shadows.

Bastards.

You stole it.

You stole my inheritance.

Give it to me.

I said, give it to me.

[yelling]

TOM: The projector.

Go take his office apart,then his house, but find it.

I am a fair man, Ralph.

You write all this
down for me, and I'll

see you don't lose parole.

GAVIN: Have any luck upstairs?

Sorry, no.

That's everywhere--
house, office, studio.

What now?

Now, I tell Barnaby
and then duck.

Ah, so where is it?

NICO: Well, he-- he couldhave chucked it anywhere.

GAVIN: Oh, great.

NICO: Sort of random.
Over a hedge.

In a tip.

Over there, I suppose.

Yeah, sure it's a start.

[music playing]

Oh.

[laughing]

Oh, you little beauty.

Guess what?

Ralph now says that
you murdered Marcus

Lowrie, which of
course, I already

knew, but was unable to prove.

What are you talking about?

He saw you do it.

Then he's lying.

No, I think you've
both been very honest,

you with your description ofJim Tate's unofficial burial,

and Ralph with his story
of how you beat Marcus

Lowrie to death with this.

No matter how well you
cleaned it up, Charlie,

there will be bits of
him on it somewhere.

Guess what?

Charlie now says he saw
you bury James Tate,

and he's made astatement to that effect.

Yeah, that you wrote for him.

Oh, come on, Ralph, whatdo you take me for, a cheat?

Don't worry.

I've got a forensic teamdigging that grave to bits.

If you were there,
they'll find something.

I wasn't.
He's lying.

And if you
weren't, they won't.

However, your personal
belongings, taken off

you when you were recaptured.

Tell me, why has that got JamesTate's fingerprints on it?

You pair of bastards.

Oh, Ralph, that's
been said before,

and I sincerely hope
it will be said again.

All right, I give up.

You stay there.

I'll make do over here.

Dad, you're talking to a dog.

Yeah, I know, and he's talkingback to me, aren't you, Spot?

[doorbell]

That'll be the men
in white coats, then.

- I'll get it.
- I'll miss him.

He's really settled
in, don't you think?

Not Nico, Spot.

Morning, sir.

TOM: Hello, Gavin.

Oh, yeah, he's a beauty.

I'll be well pleased.

Give him my regards, will you?

GAVIN: Yes, thanks.

Oh, sorry I didn't
come around yesterday.

I was off sick.

Oh, you better?

GAVIN: Yeah, yeah,
touch of food poisoning.

Canteen grub, sir,
know what I mean?

Got any idea what it
was disagreed with you?

I think it was the fish pateWednesday-- smoked mackerel.

Yeah, well,
that's the trouble,

you never know wherethey've been, do you, Troy?

No, sir.

By the way, we're on
page three of the mail.

Is that good or bad?

Last night, police inCauston charged two local men

with the murders ofMichael Stewart Whistler,

also known as James
Tate, last surviving

member of the
George Burton gang,

and of Marcus Jonathan Lowrie.

And then it goes
on about the ghost.

TOM: God, what's the
world coming to, Joyce.

Half a paragraph on the crimeand a whole page on something

that doesn't exist.

[bells]

[creaking]

[music playing]