All language subtitles for Hetty Wainthropp Investigates - S04E02 - Family Values.en

[Men arguing]

Man: I don't have to tell
you every single thing

which happens
in my life.

Is it not
your concern.

Second man: You can't
be serious about this.

I've never been more
serious in my life.

There's
no reason why--

your life...

Mother would turn
in her grave.

Yes. Talk about mother

after what
you've done to us.

Whenever you're ready,
Mr. Carter.

Thank you, Ella.

[Door slams]

Captioning made possible by
acorn media

[telephone rings]

Wainthropp detective agency.

[Didgeridoo playing]

Hetty: Geoffrey,
I'm on the phone.

I'm so sorry
about that.

My assistant
is practicing.

How can I help you?

James Carter?

Hetty: You remember.

He was found dead in his
garden pond last month.

Oh, yes.

In fact...

I'm off
to Janet's.

Oh, planning to give her
a bit of a tune, are we?

Thought I might.

She'll
enjoy that.

There we are.
The inquest was yesterday.

"Accidental
death."

So who was that
on the phone?

His brother Harry.

What
did he want?

That, Robert, is what
I'm about to find out.

So, Geoffrey...

Oh, only I've arranged
to see Janet, you see.

Oh, well, I'll have to
manage on my own, then,

but you can drop me off
on your way. Come on.

Did he?

Look. I was just about to
pour myself a glass of wine.

May I offer you one or
something stronger, perhaps?

It's a bit early
for me, Mr. Carter,

but I wouldn't say no
to a cup of tea.

Hetty: So what exactly are
you telling me, Mr. Carter,

that you don't think
this was an accident?

My brother was in very poor
health, Mrs. Wainthropp.

He was due to go into hospital
at any time for a bypass.

What he was doing standing
by a pool at least 100 yards

from his house,
I can't imagine.

Did you tell
the police this?

Yes. They said there
was no indication

of foul play of any kind.

You're not suggesting
suicide, I take it.

Of course not.

Because if it's murder
we're on about,

I have to tell you
here and now

that that's definitely
police business.

But it isn't
my brother's death

I want you to investigate,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

It's her.

Her?

Ella Parsons,

his so-called
housekeeper.

Really knocked you out,
didn't it?

Sorry, Geoff. I've just
got a lot on me mind.

Like what,
for instance?

Well, the fact that
I could be homeless

this time next week.

I thought, what with
this new job,

all that was sorted.

Well, I won't see any money
for weeks yet, will I?

Most of me redundancy
has already been spent,

and besides, even
with a regular job again,

it's more than I could
manage on me own.

Have you thought of
advertising for somebody?

Yeah, but you never
really know

who you're gonna
end up with, do you?

What you really want
if you're sharing

is somebody you
already know, isn't it?

[Gulp]

You mean,
like a mate.

Ideally. Somebody you've
shared with before.

Right.

I don't suppose you can
think of anybody, can you?

Not offhand, Janet,

but I'll certainly
give it some thought.

Right.

Harry: Underneath
that serene exterior,

she's devious,
unscrupulous,

and manipulative,

and I have reason
to believe

that for the past
two years, Ella Parsons

has been systematically
robbing my brother.

Robbing him?

Well, my brother is
an inveterate collector,

Mrs. Wainthropp--

I mean, coins,
stamps, jade--

and since his death,
certain items

have gone missing.

You have mentioned
this to the police.

Oh, no. No, no, no.
Oh, no.

Quite apart
from anything else,

I felt I should check
it out myself first.

So...Will you
take the case?

Oh, we'll certainly check out
Mrs. Parsons for you.

If I could have
a few details...

Robert: Is she
from this area?

Yorkshire.
Apart from that,

Harry Carter doesn't seem
to know much else about her.

Hmm, better get
our skates on, then.

She won't be around
much longer

with her former boss
dead and buried.

Dead, Robert, but not
necessarily buried.

You what?

If the inquest
was yesterday,

they probably only just
released the body.

Man: "Man that is born
of woman

"hath but a short time to live
and is full of misery.

"He cometh up
and is cut down like a flower.

"He fleeth as if were a shadow

"and never continueth
in one stay.

"In the midst of life,
we are in death.

"Of whom may we seek for succor
but of thee, o lord,

who, for our sins,
art justly displeased?"

[Sandpaper scraping]

Oh. Thanks very much,
Geoffrey.

She not back, then?

Not yet, no.

Ah.

Something on your mind,
is there, Geoffrey?

No.

I have this mate,
mind you,

with a bit
of a problem.

Oh.

He has this girlfriend
with this flat, you see.

Oh, yes?

Only she can't afford
to keep it on,

not on her own,
like,

and now
she's on at him--

that is,
this mate of mine--

to move in with her.

I mean, she's
not exactly

asked him
straight out, like,

but he can see that's
what she's hinting at.

I see.

I mean, purely to split
the cost, like.

Two being able to live
as cheaply as one, as it were.

That's right,

only he has this...

Well, aunt and Uncle

who he lives with
at present,

and he doesn't think
they'd approve.

Hmm, difficult.

I'll say.

I suppose at the end
of the day,

it is up to him,
Geoffrey.

Well, I'd have
said so, yeah.

I presume he is
over 21.

Well, no. He isn't.

You see, that's
the other thing,

but he's old enough,
I mean,

to make up his own mind
about these things.

Right, and I
would have thought--

without knowing any

of the parties
concerned, of course--

of course.

That this Uncle
would understand that,

being a man of the world

and seeing the sheer
practicalities of the situation.

Right.

But that still does leave
the aunt, I suppose.

Right.

Mrs. Parsons,
isn't it?

That's right.

I'm Hetty Wainthropp,

a friend
of Harry Carter's.

Oh, yes?

I gather you're
from Yorkshire.

Harrogate.
Very nice.

I wouldn't say it was all
that nice, Mrs. Wainthropp,

not where we lived,
anyway.

The accident must have been
a terrible shock for you.

Yes. It was.

Whatever happened,
do you think?

I can only assume
he tripped

and fell in
and couldn't get out again.

It is quite deep,
that pool, and overgrown.

Where does this
leave you now?

Well, Mr. Carter has asked me
to stay on for a few weeks,

just until everything
is sorted out,

but after that, I--

quite a feast,
Ella.

Thank you.

You've
done him proud.

And now,
if you'll excuse me,

I better organize
some coffee.

It's mutual, then...

Your feelings
for one another.

Would you like to see
where my brother was found?

I thought
it was a robbery

I was investigating,
Mr. Carter,

not a death.

It never does any harm,
though, Mrs. Wainthropp,

having
a complete picture.

It's a bit smelly.

He had let things go
somewhat, I'm afraid.

How deep is it?

6 feet, I suppose,

certainly deep
enough to drown him.

He couldn't swim,
I take it.

He always
hated water.

Where was Mrs. Parsons
that afternoon?

Oh, gone to the shops,
she says.

When did she
last see him alive?

Couple of hours
earlier.

She said she
served him his lunch

and left him there
eating it.

What did she think he was
doing this far from the house?

Oh, she said he
often came down here

when he wanted
to think.

Did he?

Possibly.

[Birds cawing]

Robert: Cape town?

You can say
Johannesburg,
if you'd rather.

Well, considering
I've never been

within 2,000 Miles
of either,

I can't see that
it matters. Can you?

There you are, then.

Whose crackpot idea
was this?

And what's crackpot
about it?

How is my posing
as James Carter's

South African cousin
gonna help us?

It gains you legitimate
access to the house, Robert,

and then you can have
a good root round

when she's
out of the way.

Access to the house?

Your story
is that you've already

made an offer
on the place

and Harry Carter
has accepted it

and because you're family--
got it?--

he's agreed
to let you stay on

until the estate has been
properly sorted out.

Oh, and your name
is Tate, by the way--

Robert Tate.

Geoffrey: How's your
South African accent,

Mr. Wainthropp?

Nonexistent.

Hetty:
Oh, that's no problem.

You originally came
from around here,

and you're one of those people
who never lost his local twang.

And when's all this
supposed to happen?

The sooner, the better.

So you'd best both go
and get packed.

Both,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

Somebody has got to push
the wheelchair.

Wheelchair?
Wheelchair?

You've been
confined to one

every since your riding accident
on the veldt, right?

There was a stair lift
at that house.

That's what gave me
the idea.

But what advantage
is there

in me being confined
to a wheelchair?

For a start,
it's a perfect excuse

to have Geoffrey
with you.

Oh, and Mr. Carter has agreed
to provide a car.

And what are you gonna
be doing all this time?

Checking out one or two things
with dci Adams.

Not bad, is it,
Mr. Wainthropp,

having your own
chauffeur-driven roller

for a couple of days?

I can think of places I'd
rather be at this moment.

Geoffrey. Ohh...

Oh, now, Geoffrey,

you don't have
to go raving mad.

Ah, Mrs. Parsons,
I presume.

That's right.

Robert Tate.
Harry did warn you.

Oh, yes.

Adams: Accidental death,
according to the coroner.

And there's no doubt
in anybody's mind

that is was
an accident.

None at all. Why?

What's your interest
in Carter's death?

His brother Harry has
asked me to look into it.

Really?

Do you think
he's being paranoid?

Well, I certainly don't
believe the housekeeper

pushed him in
and held him under.

That's what he more or less
tried to suggest to us.

But did you
check her out?

Not even
a parking ticket.

Robert: I take it,
cousin Harry told you

I'll be buying
the house.

Of course.

Did he also tell you I'll be
looking for a housekeeper,

once things have been
finalized, that is.

He didn't. No.

Well, what are
your own plans now?

I don't know that I've
made any as yet, Mr. Tate.

It's all been
such a shock.

I'm sure.

I was wondering if you'd
be interested in staying,

if we find we
get on, that is.

That's very nice
of you, Mr. Tate,

but you
hardly know me.

Oh, but I do,
Mrs. Parsons.

Oh?

James often spoke of you
in his letters

and always very warmly.

Oh, well,
that's nice.

He never mentioned you
to me, I'm afraid.

I'd always understood
his brother

was his only
surviving family.

Well, I suppose we're
not cousins as such,

more half-cousins,
really.

I see.

Well, why don't we both
think about it, eh?

Yes. Thank you.

And now, if you'd
like to come up,

I'll show you
your room, shall I?

So far,
so good.

As the man said as he
jumped off blackpool tower.

As you can see,
there is a lift...

Oh. Ah, yeah.

Not that Mr. Carter
used it much.

He seemed
to regard it

as an admission
of defeat.

Oh, not a great follower
of doctor's orders,

our James.

Not really, no.

Ok. Thank you.

That probably
explains why he went

into the garden
that day.

More than likely.

Thanks.

Right, then.
Whenever you're ready, boss.

Huh.

Whenever you're
ready, Geoffrey.

Pardon?

The chair.
The chair.

Oh. Sorry.

All right for you?

Oh, yes. Lovely.

In that case,
if you'll excuse me,

I'll organize
some lunch.

Ah.

Well, don't just
stand there, Geoffrey.

Go and fetch
the bags.

Yes, sir.

Ahh.

All right for you?

My favorite,
Mrs. Parsons.

And mine.

You'll find yours
in the kitchen, Geoffrey.

Oh, right.

Ahh.

Ahh.

Yummy.

Oh, thanks.

About your offer,
Mr. Tate...

Oh, yes?

Would it be on the same
terms as Mr. Carter's?

Well, of course.

In that case, I might
well be interested...

Good.

And thanks very much.

Thank you.

Oh, and if you could
lay your hands

on any references,

the ones you provided
for James would do.

But of course.

[Door opens and closes]

Robert,
how's it going?

Well, she's agreed
to stay on.

Good.

Well, isn't it?

Just as long as I never
have to explain

that there isn't
really a job at all.

We'll worry about that
when we come to it.

Did she find you
any references?

Oh, that was quick.

She's a very
organized lady.

Both from addresses
in harrogate.

Yes. She said
she came from there.

What else did you
manage to find out?

Not a lot,

except that she's
a terrific cook.

I've had roast beef
for lunch.

Oh, that's nice
for you.

How's Geoffrey doing?

Also eating royally,
I trust.

Not quite
as royally.

Where is he,
anyway?

Gone to see Janet.

Incidentally,

has he mentioned this
mate of his to you yet?

Mate of his?

And the little
problem he's having?

Janet: Ha ha! Eh?

Not a bad old banger,
I suppose,

if you're into flash.

So have you
found anyone

to share your flat
with yet?

Afraid not.

Have you thought
of anyone?

Afraid not.

So you think these
may be forgeries.

No family called
houghton or frodsham

are living at either
of these addresses

at the moment,

and it is a bit
of a coincidence

if both of them
have moved

within the last
two years.

But not impossible.

Of course not.

Well, why can't you
simply ring the people

who live there now
and ask them?

If I had their names,
I could.

You can't get a number
out of directory inquiries

without giving
them a name.

Oh. So...

So I'll have to go over
to harrogate and check.

Well, the sooner,
the better.

Geoffrey: I could
get used to this,

Mrs. Wainthropp.

What, at 10 Miles
to the gallon?

Ha ha ha!

Ha ha!

Incidentally,
I didn't tell you

about this mate
of mine, did I?

Oh, what mate might
this be, Geoffrey?

[Knocks on door]

Geoffrey is out,
is he?

Uh, day off.

Oh.

Will you be all right
on your own

if I popped down
to the shops for an hour?

Oh, yes.

Oh. In that case,
I'll see you later.

Right.

Geoffrey: What would you
advise him to do,

Mrs. Wainthropp?

Oh, I'm sure I'd be
the last person

this mate of yours
would turn to

for advice,
Geoffrey,

but if it was you
who was asking...

Yeah?

I'd say
the one person

he'd be most likely
to have trouble with

would be his Uncle.

They can become very
staid, men of that age.

But you think
his auntie would be

more broad-minded
about it?

Oh, in my experience,
women are much more

realistic about these
things than men are.

Right.

As long as he makes
it quite clear,

of course,
that it's just

the rent
they're sharing.

Right.

Only me, Mr. Tate.
I forgot my purse.

Oh. Oh, dear.

Are you all right,
Mr. Tate?

Huh?

You seem
a bit breathless.

Oh, it's the--

it's the lancashire
climate after Africa.

It gets
to me chest a bit.

[Door closes]

Ohh...

Oh, no.

Come on. Come on.

[Door closes]

Ohh...

Nobody called
houghton lives here.

Has anybody called houghton
ever lived here?

No. I don't
think so,

well, not for
the last 10 years.

That's how long
we've been here.

Well, I'm sorry
I've bothered you.

Thank you.

So?

They've never heard of
anyone called frodsham

at trenchard Crescent,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

Well, there's
a surprise.

[Door opens]

Still not back, then,
young Geoffrey?

Uh, not yet, no.

He's a lucky boy
to be given the use

of a car like that
on his day off.

Well, it's not much
use to me, really,

without Geoffrey
to drive me.

He's a good lad,
you know,

totally trustworthy.

And local, too,
from his accent.

Well, I booked him
through an agency

before I left
South Africa,

and he was here
waiting for me

when I arrived.

You don't sound all that
South African yourself,

Mr. Tate.

No. Well,
it was something

I prided myself in
when I was over there,

my northern accent.

Never could stand it
when people arrived

from the old country
and in no time at all,

were talking as though
they were born there.

Which part of South Africa
were you living in?

Johannesburg,

or rather, joburg,
as we used to call it.

I have
a friend there.

Oh, r-r-really?

She lives in a place called--
oh, what was it again?--

hillbrow.

No. That's where
I lived--hillbrow.

Good lord.

Small world, eh?

Isn't it, though?

Well, you must be bored
out of your mind,

stuck inside all day.

Would a breath
of fresh air help?

Why not?

That's where
they found him?

Yes.

Are you warm enough?

I think so.

Will you be all right
for a few minutes

while I put
the kettle on?

Yes. That sounds
like a wonderful idea.

I'll leave you
to it, then.

Right, Geoffrey.

I want you to give
Robert a ring

and warn him we'll need
to have a meeting

to bring him
up to date.

That is, if he can
bear to be dragged away

from Mrs. Parsons'
cordon bleu cooking

for an evening.

[Telephone rings]

[Ring]

[Ring]

Stapleton hall.

Hi, Mrs. Parsons.
It's Geoff.

Is Mr. Tate there,
please?

I'm afraid he's out in
the garden at the moment.

Can I take a message?

Just tell him I'll
be back soon, will you?

Are you sure I can't
get him to call you?

No. No.

I'm in
a pay phone. Bye.

[Telephone rings]

Oh!

[Ring]

Wainthropp
detective agency.

[Click]

Who was that?

Don't know.
They put the phone down.

Wrong number, obviously.

Well, you know what
to do, don't you?

Dial 1471, and they'll
tell you who it was who rang.

[Ring]

Hello.

It's me.

Hi, Janet.

I just wondered if you'd
had any thoughts yet?

Thoughts?

About this
flat business.

Oh, look. It's a bit
awkward at the moment.

Can I ring you back?

Ok.

See you, then.

Oh...

Will you tell dci Adams
the references are forgeries?

Well, I think
before we do,

we need to find out a bit
more about Ella Parsons.

And how do you
intend to do that,

Mrs. Wainthropp?

Oh, it isn't how I
intend to do it, Geoffrey.

It's how you intend
to do it.

[Pouring and stirring]

That's Mr. Tate's cocoa,
is it, Mrs. Parsons?

That's right.

I'll take it up for him
if you like.

Very well.

Thanks.

Ah, nothing like
a nice cup of hot cocoa

to help you sleep.

Only not this one, I'm
afraid, Mr. Wainthropp.

Geoffrey.
Geoffrey!

Shh. Shh.

Dabs, Mr. Wainthropp,

a perfect set, I'd say.

Harry: You found
something out,

haven't you,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

All I've got to go on
so far are suspicions.

The minute they become
something else,

believe me, you'll be
the first to know.

You better have
very good grounds

for asking me
to do this.

I've been accused
of lots of things

in the past few years,
chief inspector,

but wasting police time
has never been one of them.

Her name isn't
Ella Parsons.

It's Anna lithgow.

She got 9 months
for robbery

a few years back,
and gbh

on the policeman
who arrested her.

Oh, and she isn't
married, either,

by the way.

Perhaps it's
just as well.

All right,
Geoffrey.

You can drop me
at Chez renoir.

Robert: Chez renoir?

That's right.

I'm lunching
with Mr. Carter.

Are you now?

So she's
not only a fraud.

She's a pretty
dangerous one, too.

It seems like it.

And what did the police
say about that?

Oh, dci Adams
was all for

pulling her in
at once, of course,

until I talked him
out of it.

How did you
manage that?

By pointing out that
they'd blow our cover

and miss their chance
of nailing her

for something
far more serious

than falsifying
references.

Hmm.

We've got 24 hours to
come up with something.

After that, it's
out of our hands.

Thank you, George.

If she has been helping herself
to items from the house,

isn't it likely
she's still at it?

It's a possibility.

And if she is,

how has she been
disposing of the stuff?

Bit risky,
I would have thought,

touting for a fence in an area
you're not familiar with.

Much better to have
stashed the stuff

and then get rid of it
on home turf, so to speak.

She made regular trips
to Yorkshire,

allegedly
to visit relatives.

If she is hiding it
around the house,

it certainly
isn't in her room.

There must be lots
of other places,

outhouses and such,

places my brother wouldn't
dream of going into, hmm?

Worth checking,
I would have thought.

Hmm.

[Knocks on door]

Right, Mr. Tate.
I'm off.

Back about teatime.

Going somewhere nice?

Just to the cinema.

See you later, then.

[Door closes]

Right.

Robert, you make a start
on the garages.

Geoffrey, have a sniff
around the attic.

I'll check the back.

[Wings flutter]

[Sniff]

[Sniff]

[Sniff sniff]

Found something
interesting,

have you,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

These yours,
by any chance?

They certainly
look familiar.

And they're damp,
as well.

No prizes for guessing
how they got like that,

and if the smell
is anything to go by...

Oh?

The pond,
Mrs. Parsons,

the one James Carter
drowned in...

Or should I call you
miss lithgow?

You're obviously very
good, Mrs. Wainthropp.

I must remember
to consult

the Wainthropp
detective agency myself

next time
I need somebody.

Presumably, you're
working for Harry Carter.

Yes. I am,
and the only person

you'll be consulting
in the near future,

I dare say,
will be a solicitor

when the police see
this little lot.

Are these the clothes
you were wearing

on the day he drowned?

I'm sorry?

What happened,
miss lithgow?

Did he prove to be
more of a handful

than you thought
he would,

which is why you both
ended up in the water?

You think
I drowned him.

Did you?
You're mad.

Let's see if the police
think I am, shall we?

No, at least not
until you've heard

what I have to say.

Why one earth
should I want

to drown him,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

Good grief, woman,
I only just agreed

to marry him.

Married...
To my brother...

The original
confirmed bachelor?

Ha! Ha ha!
That's ridiculous.

Even confirmed bachelors
have been known

to get married,
Mr. Carter.

Not my brother,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

He was terrified of women,
always had been.

Anyway, where
is LA Parsons

or lithgow or whatever she's
calling herself nowadays?

Safely locked away,
I hope.

Upstairs
in her room,

but the police
are on their way.

[Car approaching]

These are for you,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

If you're half as good
a detective

as I suspect you are,

I think you might
just find them interesting.

Oh, and by the way,
Mr. Wainthropp,

next time you pretend
you're from Johannesburg,

don't tell people you're
from hillbrow, will you?

My black friend
who lives there

says you would look
most out of place.

[Door closes]

[Car departs]

Harry: I think that just
about covers it, don't you?

Thanks very much.

Thank you very much,
Mrs. Wainthropp,

for a job well done.

Or were we just
lucky, Mr. Carter?

You must admit,
it was pretty lucky,

finding that
damp clothing.

I couldn't
understand it, really.

How do you mean?

Well, Anna lithgow
leaving it

lying around
like that.

Little bit careless for
such a careful woman.

Well, presumably,
she never in a million years

thought that anybody would
come looking for it.

She claims
that the clothes

had gone missing
from her room

within the last
few days.

She was proposing
to wear that skirt

for the funeral

and took it
to be dry-cleaned.

When she came
to put it on

on the morning
of the funeral,

it had gone,

that and
the blouse I found.

That's what
she said, is it?

Oh, and she
can prove it.

You see, that skirt
was dropped off

at the cleaners, oh,
less than a week ago

with some curtains.

Being a meticulous
housekeeper,

she kept the receipt for
the household accounts.

This is the receipt.

As you see,
the list of items

includes a skirt.

Well, there's
nothing here

says it was the skirt
that you found.

They do remember it,
though, at the cleaners.

Oh, you Carters and anybody
associated with you

were the talk of
the town at the time.

So what does
all this prove?

It's not so much what
it proves, Mr. Carter,

as what it suggests.

Suggests?

That that clothing
was deliberately planted

for me to find
by the same person

who put the idea
into my head

of searching
the outbuildings.

Now you're being
ridiculous, Mrs. Wainthropp.

Am I?

You and your brother
had a big row

the night before he
drowned, didn't you?

You could be heard
all over the house.

That's what
she told you, is it?

What was the row
about, Mr. Carter?

Had he just told you he
was gonna get married--

to her, of all people--

and you could see
your entire inheritance

being lost to her?

That's preposterous.

Do you know what
I think happened?

I think you came back
the following day

to take it up
with him again,

only you found her
out shopping

and him all alone
by that pond.

This time, the row
got out of hand.

He ended up
in the water,

and you just
left him there.

That's an outrageous
thing to say.

You'd have got away
with it, too,

if you'd simply taken
the money and run,

but it wasn't enough
for you, was it?

You had to get even
with her, as well.

It was all her fault.

If she hadn't come
into your lives,

he'd no need to have
died, had he?

Poetic justice,
fitting her up

for his murder.

You can't prove a word
of this, Mrs. Wainthropp,

not one word.

Perhaps I can't,

but then I don't
need to, do I?

As I told you, we don't
do murder, Mr. Carter.

We leave that
to the police,

but I don't think
they'll have

much trouble
over this one.

Oh?

Whoever planted
that clothing

must have left
fingerprints

all over that
greenhouse door.

Had a bit of a job
getting it open.

If they turn out to be
your fingerprints,

whatever
were you doing

in that particular
greenhouse,

of all places?

Have you outlined
your theory

to the police yet,
Mrs. Wainthropp?

I was just about to,
as a matter of fact.

Were you really?

[Door opens]

Little late for that,
I think, sir.

Already what you might call
done and dusted, that door.

Uh!

Aah!

But I didn't--

uh! Uhh!

But I didn't--

Janet: So what happened
to your roller?

Aw, spat with the real
owner, I'm afraid,

not that he'll be doing
much driving, mind you.

So...You sorted out
this little problem?

Problem solved,
Geoffrey.

Oh.

Robert: What niggles me
is the way he tried to use us

to frame that poor woman.

His fatal mistake,
Robert.

Never underestimate
a Wainthropp,

right, love?

And we got paid.

Well, I suppose,
if nothing else,

I had a taste
of the high life.

As for that roast beef
and Yorkshire pudding--

I had the duck
at the Chez renoir

and a very nice
chablis.

Ha ha ha!

Not that it was
a laughing matter, mind.

You could've been
in real danger

facing a murderer
like that.

In future, when we say,
"no murders," we mean it, ok?

And before
you tell me again

that it wasn't a murder
we were investigating,

don't even start,
all right?

All right, Robert.

[Door closes]

You're early.

Geoffrey:
Fancied an early night.

I thought you were
supposed to be seeing Janet.

I've seen Janet.

You two haven't
had a row, have you?

Of course not.

How's this mate of yours
getting on

with that little problem
he was having?

All sorted.

Oh?

Seems his girlfriend
found somebody else

to share the flat with,

some other fella.

So, like Janet said,
problem solved.

[Door closes]

Oh, dear.

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