All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders s09e06 Country Matters_lowest

Come on!

[Laughing]

Ah!

[Horse whinnies]

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Call that grooming?

[Horse neighs]

Ah.

I think I'm going to
have to take you in hand.

Yes, I think you are.

[Cracks whip]

Woman: Help!

Help!

Help!

Don't worry, my dear.

I'll soon have you
out of that.

Help!

Thank God.

Apple pie,
my darling.

Your favorite.

What a wonderful

wife you are.

I'll cut you a piece.

And then it'll be time
for your nap.

May I have some sausages,
please?

Thank you.
Lincolnshire.

Oh, hello.

Hello, you look
a bit lost.

Uh, no...
Nothing to be
ashamed of.

I come here all the time,

and I still get
in a bit of a muddle.

Susan Wicking, I'm the vicar
of Elverton-cum-Latterly.

Everyone calls me
"Rev. Suze."

I'm here every Saturday,
12:00 till 2:00.

Sorry, would you mind?

[Praying quietly]

In Jesus's name, Amen.

Thank you so much
for that.

Brilliant
meeting you.

What was all that about?

We were praying
you'd find the horseradish.

Well, I did, but it's not
the kind you like.

They only stock
their own brand now.

Yeah, same stuff.

Hello, Rose.

Hi, Joyce.
Tom, this is
Rose Southerly,

runs the Cordon Bleu
Cookery School at Elverton.

I did a course there,
remember?

Vividly... how do you do?

I think I've just run
into your vicar.

She was saving lost souls
by the baked beans.

Yes, she's got some sort

of weird arrangement
with Goodfare.

Actually, that's rather
a bone of contention.

Why?
Goodfare have got
a planning commission

to build a huge new
supermarket in Elverton.

A supermarket,
in Elverton?

Well, we've contested it
all along, of course.

There's a big meeting
on Monday.

But I doubt there's
anything we can do now.

Oh, well done, darling.

Joyce, do you remember
Dora?

This is
Mr. And Mrs. Barnaby.

Mrs. Barnaby did
one of my courses.

How do you do?

Hi, Dora.

Anyway, this supermarket
business is ghastly.

The whole village
is at war over it.

Surprised there haven't
been any murders.

[Chuckling]

Bye.

Morning.

Hiya, Danny.

Bye, Dad.

Oi, do some ruddy work today,
will you?

Whatever!

What did you get?

Lager.

Ugh.

I detest lager.

It's all I could get!

You live in a pub, Otis.

You should be able
to get anything.

Not with my dad around.
I can't.

My dad and your mum
went out

for a drink
the other night.

They bumped into each other,
Otis.

They did not go out.
Fact.

So what if they did?

Your dad's dead,
my mum's in Florida.

It would be cool
if they got together.

It would not be cool!
It would be gross!

If they got married,
would that mean...

you and me couldn't
be an item?

Otis, Mummy would never
marry a man who owns a pub.

Fact.

And you and I will never
be an item.

Not in a million years.

Not if you were
the last male

of the entire species
on the planet. Shh!

Someone's coming.

Otis:
What's he doing?

How should I know?

It's probably something
to do with this

ghastly supermarket.

My dad says he'll
sell the pub

and make a shed-load of money
if they build the supermarket.

Mummy says we'll leave
the village

if they build it.

What?
Leave Elverton?

Yeah.

You'll never
see me again.

And wouldn't that break
your heart, Otis?

Celia?

What do you think?
Oh, it's sweet.

For Dora... she's been
so good recently.

Morning!

Hello.

Can you two come round
to ours later?

Orlando wants to discuss
his tactics

for the protest meeting.

We'll be there.
Okay.

Excellent,
see you later.

Bye.

Ooh, actually, I've got
a client at 11:00.

I'll get my skates on.

Right.
See you later.

Bye.
Bye-bye.

[Knocks on door]

Do come in.

Have you had
a horrible day, darling?

Horrible.

[Groans]

It's such a relief
to come home to my lovely wife.

I'll soon cheer you up.

[Smooches]

What's happening
about the supermarket?

Well...

Iooks like
it's going ahead.

Actually, there's
a meeting tonight.

But I don't think there's
anything we can do now.

You need a knight
in shining armor.

Yes.

We do.

Perhaps...

I could be your knight
in shining armor.

You already are, darling.

No, seriously, Rose.

I wish...

I wish you really
were my wife.

Please don't say
things like that.

Look, I've made you
a lovely sponge cake.

Shall I be Mummy?

Got your organic veg
for you, Ginny.

Thanks, Gary.

[Horse whinnies]

You won't forget the meeting
this evening, will you?

Don't worry,
I'll be there.

You won't get veg
like that in a Goodfare.

[Horse whinnying]

[Door opens]

Sorry,
that was Gary Talbot

with our organic veg.

The prices
that man charges!

Sometimes I wonder

if a supermarket
in the village

wouldn't be such
a bad idea after all.

Sacrilege, Jeremy.

We've all got to watch
the pennies.

I don't need reminding...
we had to sell our Mannings.

My Mannings,
actually, darling,

and I do wish you'd
shut up about it.

Can we get back
to the supermarket, please?

Right, these plans have been
turned down at every level,

and now the Deputy Prime
Minister's office

has given them
the go-ahead regardless.

Celia: But why?

Affordable housing,
darling.

Yep, the magic words.

Goodfare promised to throw up
a couple of jerrybuilt houses

and everyone rolls over
for them.

And this damn industrial
pollution they found

means no one else
will touch the site.

So our only chance
now is to go

to the European Court
of Human Rights.

And frankly I don't think
they'll want to know.

Anyway... that's what I'm
going to put to the meeting.

It's worth a try.

Mm-hmm.
Yes.

Well, there's something
we need to discuss

as regards to the business.

Rose?

It concerns you.

Me?

You and Danny Piggott.

Rose, not to put
too fine a point on it...

there's been talk
in the village.

Ginny:
For God's sake, Orlando.

It's nearly three years

since Giles died...
what do you expect

poor Rose to do,
join a bloody nunnery?

I don't care who she
consorts with, but frankly,

the landlord of The Woodman
does seem a rather odd choice.

But she can't carry on with him
or anyone else,

for that matter, and stay
in the business, simple as that.

I mean, sooner or later,
he's bound to hear something,

or see something, and then

the game will be up
for all of us.

Look, I admit
he's been pestering me.

And yes, I had
a drink with him...

to be polite.

But honestly, that's
all there is to it.

I've no intention of
"consorting with him,"

as you put it.

Of course you haven't,
darling,

you've got
far too much taste.

I'm only interested
in the business,

believe me.

I can't afford
not to be.

[Microphone feedback]

One, two,
one, two, one, two.

One, two,
one, two.

[Microphone feedback]

Rose!
Saved you a seat, darling.

Oh, thank you!

Rose...
actually, Rose,

we're going to sit
in the front.

Mummy, I'm going to
go and sit with Otis.

All right.

We'll sit in the back,
Dad, okay?

I suppose so.

Frank?
Damn it, his phone's off.

Frank, it's Miranda Harvey
returning your call.

Listen, Dudley and I
appreciate the interest, but...

Actually, I don't appreciate
your interest,

Frank, I really don't know
what's got into you.

So stay away,
have you got that?

Dudley's a little tense,
that's all.

Call me as soon
as you get this message, Frank.

[Beeps]

Don't worry, he'll be fine!

He's got too much
to lose.

I'll tell you something,

if he turns up here tonight,
I'll kill him.

Rev. Suze: Uh, welcome,
everybody.

[Applause]

For those of you
who don't know me,

I'm the Rev. Suze,
and I've been asked

to keep the peace...

[Laughter and applause]

This evening.

On the platform, we have
Orlando Lamington

from the "Stop the Supermarket"
Committee.

[Cheers and boos]

We have Miranda Harvey,
on behalf

of Goodfare Supermarket.

[Cheers and boos]

And Dudley Painter,
from the Council.

What did you get?

Vodka and some fags.

Cool, come on.

It's important that we
understand that Goodfare

have committed to building
affordable housing

for six families
on site.

[Cheers and applause]

Goodfare will also
clean up the site.

They will clean up
the pollution

caused by
the old timber yard.

[Applause and boos]

That's something
that the Council

couldn't afford to do.

Or wouldn't, you mean...
Just another Council whitewash,

isn't it, eh?

This isn't just another
supermarket we're talking about.

It's a program
of rejuvenation

for a whole village!

[Applause]

Why? Because we care
at Goodfare.

[Cheers and applause]

[Booing]

[Cheers and applause]

[Heckling]

We all know

that permission

for this supermarket
has already been passed

at the highest level.

But we must reconsider

the potential erosion

of the quality of life
in this village.

[Cheers and applause]

Oh, come on!
Come on!

Orlando: Whether it be
increased volume in traffic

and the threat
to local businesses...

What local businesses?
Elverton is dead.

Why can't I get that
through your thick yuppie head?

What about my shop?

Your shop?
It's only incomers

could afford
to use the place.

Us locals have to drive
to Causton

to shop,
'cause we can't all live

on sun-dried tomatoes
at �5 a throw!

Shut up!

Give everyone a chance
to have their say.

Danny Piggott doesn't care
what happens to this village.

Because he won't be there,
will he?

He's selling
The Woodman to Goodfare.

[Crowd murmuring]

You won't have
a pub anymore,

you'll have
a petrol station.

Greedy bastard's
got his snout

in the trough
at Goodfare!

[Shouts and screams]

Stop that!
Get off!

Stop that!

Danny!

Danny!

You keep your hands
off her, Lamington!

What are you talking about?
You know exactly what I'm

talking about... stay
away from her, all right?

Like hell I will!

Ginny: Stop it!

That is enough!

That's enough!

Dora:
Otis, get off!

Get off what?

Get off me!
Move your hand!

Don't touch me!

How many times do I
have to tell you, you loser?

I'm not! I'm trying to
open this bottle!

Otis, stop it.
It's so not funny.

[Flicking lighter]

Look!

I'm not touching you, see?

[Camera shutter clicking]

George?

Stab wounds
to the chest, Tom.

No cuts to the hands and arms,
so he didn't put up a fight.

Taken unawares, perhaps.

Time of death?

8 to 12 hours ago.

Nearer 12,
at first glance.

These marks, George,
would suggest

he was dragged here
from somewhere else.

Probably.

Jones: No sign of the murder
weapon yet, sir.

Thank you, George.

Okay.

These were in the grass
over there.

Do we know
who he is?

Not yet, sir.

Who found the body?

Couple of kids
messing around last night.

What are all these
about?

Something to do with
this old timber mill.

Apparently the signs
have only just gone up,

but nobody takes
any notice.

Locals have been
taking shortcuts

and walking their dogs
here for years.

Right, let's go and see
what the kids have got to say.

You don't have to go
to school today, darling.

But I want to, I want to
tell everyone what happened.

It's so cool.

Mrs. Southerly,
we'd really

like to talk to you
and Dora privately, please.

Don't worry,
we're off.

Will you be
all right?

Of course,
we'll be fine.

Good girl.

[Softly]
Don't forget, will you?

I won't.

Just ring, Rose.

Any time.

Rose: Thanks.

[Door closes]

Right.

Dora.

Now, can you tell us,
please,

exactly what happened
last night?

Now, it's okay,
there's no need to rush.

Take your time.

It was Otis's idea.

He said, " Let's go
to Jubbs Field for a laugh."

The meeting was so unbelievably
boring, so I went.

Uh, that meeting
was about

the supermarket
development, yes?

Yes.

What time was this?

I don't know.

The meeting started
at half past 8:00.

Dora: So we went
to Jubbs Field,

and there was
this dead man.

It was just like
a film.

How exactly did you
find this man?

It was so gross.

We sat down, okay, and it was
totally, totally dark.

Then I felt this hand
on me.

I thought it was Otis,
so I shouted at him.

Then Otis lit
his cigarette lighter,

and there he was.

This man,
almost lying on me,

his eyes wide open,
like that.

I knew straightaway
he was dead.

And you saw no one else
on Jubbs Field?

No.

Is Otis your boyfriend?

No way!

Otis is a complete loser.

So who stole
the vodka?

Not me.

Otis got it
from the pub... fact.

Vodka?
Dora!

I didn't have any, Mum,
I detest alcohol.

Barnaby:
This man...

have you ever
seen him before?

No, never.

Okay, thank you, Dora.

And that's it
for the minute.

That meeting...
it got rather heated,

I understand.

Well, feelings ran
rather high,

but that's to be
expected, isn't it?

[Door closes]

Thank you.

Is it me, or do I sense
a certain reluctance to talk?

Oh, yes.

We were sitting there,

and we saw him!

This, this bloke.

You saw him?
In the dark?

Yeah, in the dark.
But you could just see him.

When you lit
your cigarette lighter?

I don't have
a cigarette lighter!

He doesn't smoke,
for crying out loud!

Knows I'd kill him
if he did.

Barnaby: Otis,

did you recognize
this man?

Had you ever
seen him before?

No, why would I?

He was just a man in a suit
with a briefcase,

only he was dead.

Oh, he had
a briefcase, did he?

Only we didn't find
any briefcase, did we?

No.

So, Otis, what do you think

might have happened

to this briefcase?

What's this?
You saying my son's a thief?

Mr. Piggott,
I'm trying to establish

what your son might
or might not have seen.

Bet you didn't accuse
Dora Southerly

[Telephone rings]
Of nicking
any briefcases.

[Softly]
Okay, Otis,

this is the deal.

I won't mention

vodka or cigarettes
to your dad,

and you will tell me

the truth.

We saw him earlier.

Earlier?
When?

During the day.

Where?

Me and Dora
were on Jubbs Field

when this bloke turned up,

so we hid.

Bunkin' off again,
weren't you?

Mr. Piggott, please!

[Mobile rings]

Hello?

What was he doing?

I don't know, he was digging.

He was digging?
Yeah.

He dug up something
and put it in his briefcase.

Is this another one

of your stupid stories,
Otis?

No, Dad, it's the truth!

That'd be a first.

Sir, they've
found something.

Just over there, sir.

How'd they manage
to miss this, then?

No idea, sir.

Looks like
a kitchen knife, sir.

It is, it's one of those
chef's knives.

Joyce has got something like
that... cost me a fortune.

Wallet and bag
must be in here.

Oh, there's a license

in the wallet.

No cash,
no credit cards.

And his name

is Frank Hopkirk.

Lives in Causton.

Looks like there was
a laptop in the bag.

Maybe it was
a straightforward mugging.

He put up a fight,
got himself stabbed.

No, Bullard said there was
no sign of a struggle.

These papers, sir...

What about them?

Some kind of a report
on the supermarket development.

Hello!

What have we here?

"Rose Southerly,
Cordon Bleu Cookery School."

Well, well.

Perhaps I should have
another word

with Mrs. Rose Southerly.

Um...

can you do me a Polaroid
of that knife, please, now?

Yes, straightaway,
sir.

Thank you.

And, Jones?

You can talk
to the victim's family.

Me, sir?

Yes, sir, you, sir.

I think it's time
you learned

the delicate art
of delivering bad news.

You all right with that?

I think so.

Thank you.

Barnaby: The dead man
was carrying

one of your business cards,
Mrs. Southerly.

He was?

Yeah.

He was in his 50s,
average height,

gray hair, mustache,

smartly dressed.

Any of
your cookery students

answer to that
description?

Oh, dear.

Mrs. Southerly?

It sounds a bit like...

it could be
Mr. Johnson.

I've... been
teaching him to cook.

And it was a surprise
for his wife.

And he was
here yesterday?

Yes.

Yes, he was.

Is that him?

Yes, that's him.

Except his name,
according to that,

is Frank Hopkirk.

I'm sorry, I don't know
what to say.

He told me his name was,
um, Johnson, sorry.

Well, maybe he didn't want
his wife to find out.

Find out what?

That he was taking
cookery lessons.

You said he was doing it
as a surprise for his wife.

Oh, I see what you mean.

Yes, I suppose that...
must be it.

Mrs. Southerly,

um...

are you missing any knives?

My knives?

I don't understand.
Why would I be?

Could you have
a quick check-up, please?

Yes, of course.

I think...

that's it.

Wait a minute,
where's my vegetable knife?

I bought it in France.

It must be here somewhere.

Mrs. Southerly,

Mrs. Southerly,
is that it?

Well, yes, that looks
very like...

Oh, my God,
is that the...

is that how he was...

Yes, it is.

But you can't
possibly think...

you're not suggesting
that I killed him,

are you?

Well, it can't have been
missing long.

I'd have noticed.

It's my favorite knife.

I use it all the time.

So, apart
from Frank Hopkirk,

who else was here yesterday?

Some ladies
from Midsomer Parva,

eight of them are doing
a baking course.

Have you got
their names?

Yes, but their average age
is well over 70.

I can't imagine them
murdering anyone...

except with
their fairy cakes.

[Chuckling]

So no one else
came here?

No, just Mr. Johnson

and the ladies
from Midsomer Parva.

So you taught...

you taught Mr. Hopkirk
on a...

one-to-one basis?

Yes.

How did he pay?

Cash.

In advance?

No, after every... lesson.

That's a bit unusual,
isn't it?

[Laughs nervously]
I suppose so.

I never really
thought about it,

to tell you the truth.

Um... well,
a forensic technician

will have to take
your fingerprints.

Oh, it's just routine,
I assure you.

Of course.

Hello, Dora.

Hello.

Dora...

could we have
a little talk

about yesterday?

I told you
about yesterday.

Yesterday morning.

Yesterday morning,
I was at school.

No, you weren't,

you were on Jubbs Field

with Otis Piggott,
weren't you?

Fact.

Oh, my God, the loser
grassed me up.

Only under
intense pressure, Dora.

That man you found,
you saw him that morning

on Jubbs Field,
didn't you?

What was he doing?

It was weird.

He dug something up,
put it in a container,

and then he went.

Have you told
my mum?

No, I thought I'd
leave that up to you.

Okay.

Are you married?

Yes.
Why?

Mummy's a widow,
did you know?

It's so boring with
all these men hanging around.

What men?

[Knocking]
Sorry, got to go.

Rose Southerly?
No.

Yes.

She was giving
the victim cookery lessons.

Are those my pajamas?

Yes, you don't mind,
do you?

I was a bit cold
last night.

You've got to hand it
to Rose.

What have I got to hand
to her?

Well, her husband was killed
in that car crash,

what, three years ago?

Left her in an awful
mess, financially.

Huge overdraft,
huge mortgage.

No life insurance
or anything.

So she knuckled under

and started
the cookery business.

She's done jolly well
at it, too.

Yeah, well,
she must have done.

She's got a big house,
her kid's at St. Chad's.

Lovely little girl.

Earplugs, Joyce?

You know I haven't
been sleeping well, Tom.

I thought this might help.

Good night, darling.

I've got
no rooted objection

to you wearing
my pajamas, Joyce,

but it's a little weird,
getting into bed

with someone dressed like...

What?
Hmm.

[Loudly]
Good night, Joyce.

Good night, Tom.

Do you remember
what time...

[Door opens]

Jones:
Morning, sir.

Morning.

This is Hopkirk's car.

The Rev thinks it's been here
since yesterday morning.

Didn't think much of it,

but it's still here
this morning,

so gave your lot
a bell.

I'd better get going.
Things to do, people to see.

The Rev goes for a run
every morning.

That's right,
change in the vestry

after early Communion,
and off I go!

Um, do you go the same
route every morning?

Oh, yeah, down the High Street,
along the Causton Road,

right into Nether Lane
and back.

You didn't
notice anything

out of the ordinary
yesterday morning?

No, but as I
told Ben here,

pretty oblivious
when I'm jogging.

Quality time with the boss,
you see.

Sorry?

[Laughing]
Prayer, Inspector.

We still do it,
you know.

Catch you later, guys.

Yes.

Catch you later.

Good God.

Do we know

what Mr. Hopkirk
did for a living?

He was an environmental
health consultant,

whatever that means.

Well, it obviously
pays well,

going by the car.

According to his wife,
he was working

for Goodfare Supermarkets,
which would explain

the paperwork we found,
but I can't get

anyone at Goodfare
to confirm it.

What do we know
about his movements yesterday?

Uh, well, here's
what we've got so far, sir.

Otis and Dora saw him
on Jubbs Field at about 9:00.

After that, he went
for his cookery lesson

at Rose Southerly's...

Cookery lesson.

Mm-hmm, he had a drink
at The Woodman

round about midday,
then went

to the village shop
and bought a snack.

After that, nothing.

Till he turns up dead
on Jubbs Field.

Bullard reckons that he died
around 7:00 in the evening.

So what was he doing
all the afternoon?

[Mobile rings]

Jones.

Thanks.

Mrs. Hopkirk is ready

to identify
the body, sir.

[Gunshot]

It's probably coming

from the Patchetts' place.

They run a rural-pursuits
center.

Rural-pursuits center?

Yeah, clay-pigeon shooting,
fly fishing, stuff like that.

Sounds quite interesting.

You can even do a course
in hedging and ditching.

A course in hedging
and ditching?

Oh, be still,
my beating heart.

Woman: Yes.

That's my husband.

That's Frank.

Don't be ridiculous!

[Siren in distance]

Um, excuse me...

Don't even
think about it.

Mrs. Hopkirk...

do you know what your husband
was doing in Elverton?

Working on some new supermarket
development, according to him.

Yes, and taking lessons
at a cookery school.

[Scoffs]
You must be joking.

Didn't you know
about that?

No, I did not.

Look, where cooking
is concerned,

Frank was strictly
Stone Age.

He couldn't
boil a kettle.

It was a woman,
I suppose,

giving him these
so-called cookery lessons?

Yes, it was a woman.

Attractive?

Uh... yes, yes,

You could say that.

Well, that would be
of more interest to Frank

than whipping up a casserole,
believe me.

Could you enlarge
on that, Mrs. Hopkirk?

Where women are concerned,

Frank couldn't help himself,
Inspector.

I suppose these days
he'd be called an addict.

Is that all?
I've got arrangements to make,

starting with a long holiday.

I told you she was scary.

A word, Tom,
if you've got a minute.

Yes.

Better pick that up.

I wanted to show you
these bruises

before I open him up.

There are similar ones
on his back, as well.

Oh, so he did
put up a fight.

He may have been
in a fight, yes,

but some hours
before he was stabbed.

There's something
under his fingernails.

Could be soap.
I'll get it checked out.

Thank you.

Oh, and his buttocks.

What about his buttocks?

Light bruising
and abrasions.

Same sort of bruises
as on the chest?

Oh, no, no,
very different.

These marks suggest
mild chastisement.

The sort administered
for recreational purposes.

Want to see?

Well, I suppose I've got to,
haven't I?

Chast-what?

Chastisement, Jones,
somebody gently...

not so gently... beat him
for pleasure.

Jones: Okay,
what about this?

Hopkirk comes
to Elverton

on Goodfare business.

He sees Rose around
the village, likes her,

so he signs up
for cookery lessons.

And then...

He tries it on, but she
doesn't want to know.

He forces himself on her.

There's a struggle
in the kitchen...

hence, the bruises.

She grabs the knife,
bosh.

Or, more likely,

Rose welcomes
Hopkirk's advances.

She falls in love
with him.

But Hopkirk's already married,
won't leave his wife,

and Rose kills him
in a fit of jealous rage.

Rose falls in love
with Hopkirk?

No way.

I mean, she's a looker,
isn't she?

Hopkirk's in his 50s,
he's an old man!

Jones...

the human heart
is a fickle organ.

Passions can be aroused

in the most unlikely
of circumstances.

You mean
the chastisement stuff.

No, I don't mean
the chastisement stuff.

I mean, human relationships
are complex

and not based solely
on whether one is

or is not
a looker.

If you say so, sir.

Anyway, if she did kill him,
how did she move the body

to Jubbs Field on her own?

Well, maybe she had help.

She's not without friends.

Maybe it's to do
with this new supermarket.

Rose, the Lamingtons,
the Patchetts,

they're all
dead against it.

What are you saying,
they all ganged up together

to kill an environmental
health consultant?

That's a bit far-fetched,
Jones.

Well, there was a report
in Hopkirk's case

on the Jubbs Field site.

And some of the pages
were missing,

and whatever
he was digging up,

there's no sign
of that, either.

You want to see me?

Yes, please,
Mr. Piggott.

Come, take a seat.

Thank you.

This man... you ever
seen him before?

Yeah, came in the pub
yesterday, lunchtime.

Already told
one of your lot.

His name's
Frank Hopkirk.

He was an environmental
health consultant.

We think he was working
for Goodfare.

Did you talk to him?

A bit.

He was asking
about some bloke,

used to work
at Jubbs Timber Mill,

Johnny somebody.

He used
to drink in here.

Did you know him?

[Scoffs]
Of course not.

The timber mill closed
in the '80s.

I only bought the pub
10 years ago.

Did Mr. Hopkirk mention
Rose Southerly at all?

No, why should he?

Oh, no particular reason,
Mr. Piggott.

You're not dragging Rose
into this, are you?

Not dragging anyone anywhere,
Mr. Piggott,

I'm trying to conduct
a murder investigation.

Yeah, well,
she's the only one

of that lot
I've got time for.

That lot?

The Lamingtons,
the Patchetts.

The green welly brigade.

Didn't you have
a bit

of a set-to

with Lamington
at the village hall?

[Laughing]
He got in my face.

Orlando Lamington's
been trying

to shut me down for years.

[Horn beeping repeatedly]

Hey, you got
something to say,

Gary Talbot,
say it to my face!

Gary: You're a bloody Judas,
Piggott!

You had a set-to
with Mr. Talbot,

as well,
didn't you?

We had words, yeah,
but I don't see what this

has got to do with
a dead bloke on Jubbs Field.

Oh, probably nothing at all,
Mr. Piggott, nothing at all.

Well, thank you.
We'll, uh, talk again.

Got a short fuse,
our Mr. Piggott.

Has he got a record?

No, sir, not even
a parking ticket.

So where did Hopkirk
go next?

Village shop, sir.

Must have been
my wife who served him.

I was out,
doing the deliveries.

Mrs. Talbot?

[Bell rings]

Yes, that was him.

He came in about 1:00
and bought some chocolate.

Did he say anything?

He was asking about someone

who used to work
at Jubbs Timber Mill.

Remember his name?

No, I'm afraid not.

The mill's been

closed down
for years.

Mr. Talbot,
um,

How long does it take you
to do your deliveries, then?

About an hour.

Hour and a half.

And where?

Where do you make
these deliveries?

Around the village.

Lamingtons
and Midsomer Market.

An hour and a half,
to deliver

two boxes of vegetables.

And you didn't see
Mr. Hopkirk at all

during these deliveries?

No, I did not.

Thank you, Mr. Talbot.

Mrs. Talbot,
thank you.

What's the big idea,
saying that

about my delivery route?

No big idea, Gary.

I just don't know
what's up with you these days.

If they build a Goodfare
on Jubbs Field,

we'll go out of business.

That's what's up with me.

And now, thanks to you,

I'm probably a suspect
in a murder inquiry.

You? Nobody's going
to suspect you of murder.

You're not
interesting enough.

There's another one,
not telling us everything.

Even his wife
doesn't believe him.

[Chuckles]
That could come in useful,

couldn't it,
for shifting a body?

That's the Lamington woman,
sir.

Barnaby:
Yes, I know.

Now, Jones, go back inside,
check the details

of Talbot's
Sir. Delivery route.

Every inch of it.

[Honking horn]

Inspector Barnaby?
Yes.

Miranda Harvey.

Public relations coordinator
for Goodfare Supermarkets.

I'd like to talk to you
about Frank Hopkirk.

First of all,

everyone at Goodfare
is absolutely devastated.

Frank was not only
a respected colleague,

he was
a true friend.

Mrs. Harvey, how long

had Mr. Hopkirk
been working for Goodfare?

Frank Hopkirk wasn't
a Goodfare employee.

He was an independent
consultant.

I hope you'll
make that clear

in any statements
to the press.

So he wasn't working
for Goodfare.

We were consulting him,
Inspector.

About what?

Most recently, about
the Jubbs Timber Mill site

here in Elverton.

Frank Hopkirk was

an expert in industrial
pollution.

The Jubbs Field site
is polluted, you see.

He was advising
the Council, as well.

He was advising
the Council, as well?

Oh, yes, he had a good working
relationship with the Council.

You'd have to speak to
Dudley Painter about that.

Who's Dudley Painter?

Chairman
of the planning committee.

Yes, well, I will.

Mrs. Harvey, when did you

last have contact
with Mr. Hopkirk?

He tried to contact me
yesterday afternoon.

About what?

About the meeting
at the village hall,

did we need him to attend,
that sort of thing.

But that's Frank
all over.

Always trying
to be helpful.

So you did speak
to him yesterday afternoon?

No, his phone was off,
so I left a message.

Look...

I think it's important

we're all singing from

the same hymn sheet,
don't you?

Singing about what?

There are concerns about
the way this unfortunate

incident is depicted
in the media.

Oh, I see, you're worried
about Goodfare's good name

being associated with a bloody
and brutal murder.

Yes, that's one way
of putting it.

Well, I'm very sorry,
Mrs. Harvey,

but I can't
help you there.

[Door opens]

Ah, Jones.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

They lifted a couple
of prints off the knife.

Ah, and...

They match
Rose Southerly's.

Do they?
Mm.

Oh.

And what did you glean

about Gary Talbot's
delivery route?

Ah, interesting.

He says he got
the Midsomer Market order wrong

and had to go back there
early evening.

Early evening when?

About 7:00.

That's round about
the time

that Hopkirk
may have been killed.

Mm-hmm, the wife didn't say as
much, but she obviously thinks

he's up to something.

Maybe it's to do
with the conspiracy.

Conspiracy?
What conspiracy?

This new supermarket
development.

A mate of my uncle Harry's
used to work

at Jubbs,
and he...

We've got Rose Southerly's
prints on the murder weapon,

Jones, now, come on,
first things first.

Are you
going to charge her?

Well, there's no harm

in letting her know
it's a possibility.

[Clock chiming]

Look.

Orlando's going
to see Mummy.

Should Orlando get a divorce

and marry your mum?

God, no!

She likes Orlando,
but only as a friend.

What does that mean?

It's what people say

when they
don't fancy someone.

Maybe she'll marry
my dad.

Shut up, Otis!

She's not
going to marry anyone.

She's still in love
with my dad

and always will be...
fact.

[Knock on door]

[Dog barking]

Dora: Poor Orlando,

he's completely
wasting his time.

Look...

you know how much
I care for you.

Please don't
start that again.

You know
how it upsets me.

Is it because of
Danny Piggott?

Are you in love
with him?

No, I am not!

Honestly, Orlando,
just because I won't

leap into bed with you
does not mean I'm

in love
with Danny Piggott.

It's not about leaping
into bed with anyone.

Look, Rose, I love you,
for God's sake.

Always have,
always will.

You just say the word,

and I'll leave Ginny
now, this moment.

We'll get the hell
out of Elverton,

we'll go
wherever you like...

America, France,
I don't care.

I just want
to be with you.

Stop it, Orlando,
stop it.

[Knock on door]

Oh, no.

It's that policeman...
Barnaby.

Mrs. Southerly,
may we have a word, please?

Oh, yes, of course.

Thank you.

Orlando:
Any problems,

you give me a ring.

My fingerprints?

Your fingerprints,
Mrs. Southerly.

Oh, God.

Now, how we proceed
from here,

that's entirely
up to you.

What do you mean?

Well, you could start,
couldn't you,

by telling me
the truth

about your relationship

with Frank Hopkirk?

I have told you the truth.

No, Mrs. Southerly,
I don't believe you have.

I don't believe...

Are those plastic garlic?

That's not very

cordon bleu,
is it?

Please don't touch that.

Oh!

What have we here?

I, uh, record
some of my classes.

Yeah.

Secretly.

No! No!

Did you record your classes
with Frank Hopkirk?

Oh, come on,
Mrs. Southerly.

Sooner or later,
you're going to

have to tell us
the truth.

All right!
All right, Inspector,

I'll tell you
the truth

about my relationship with...
Frank Hopkirk.

Sitting down
on the job, Mr. Hundsecker?

Oh, those English saddles,
they're heavy.

You know, I don't think...

you've been
properly broken in...

[Inhales]

Mr. Hundsecker.

Oh, I just love
that accent.

[Cracks whip]
Ooh.

Get on your feet.

Go to the bench.

Turn around.

It'll be
my pleasure.

That is the, uh...
general idea,

Mr. Hundsecker.

Ooh!

[Cracks whip]
Ooh!

Rose: Giles...

my husband, was killed

in a car crash
three years ago.

I found out
that Giles hadn't been

very careful with money,
to put it mildly.

I desperately needed
to earn some money,

so I started
the catering business...

weddings, funerals,

shooting parties.

People love to hire
a friend in need.

It makes them feel
morally superior.

Anyway, then I started
the Cordon Bleu School.

And was it
a success?

Not at all.

I got myself
deeper into debt.

Then...

one of my students...

charming man,
very wealthy...

made me an offer.

He offered me
a ridiculous sum of money

to spend the night
with him.

The equivalent
of Dora's school fees

for a whole term,
in one fell swoop.

An offer
you couldn't refuse.

Exactly.

You mean, you...

Don't... Jones!

Please, carry on,
Mrs. Southerly.

Well, he started coming
to see me regularly,

and then he introduced me
to a friend,

and then another friend.

Friends with similar tastes.

Men in need of solace.

I'd cook them something
comforting... cake's always

very popular...
listen to their

problems about work
and family.

Tell them how wonderful
they are.

And then...

cooking and comforting,
that's my speciality.

I see myself as
a sort of fantasy wife.

You'd be amazed
how many men

are willing to pay
for that.

And, um, Frank Hopkirk,
he was one of them, was he?

Yes, but I didn't know
his real name,

and I didn't know he worked
for Goodfare.

And you made recordings.

As a precaution.

There was a journalist once

who threatened
to make trouble

till I pointed out
that I had him on camera.

Quite a bit of him,
as it happens.

Mrs. Southerly,
do you have a recording

of Frank Hopkirk's
last visit?

Yes.

I do.

Well, we'd like
to see it.

[Gunshot]

[Rustling]

Who's there?

Only me,
Lady Celia.

My lord?

You're not supposed to be
in this part of the wood.

I was, uh, looking
for poachers.

Do I look
like a poacher, My lord?

No, you certainly don't.

Well, now you're here,

you might as well have
a glass of champagne.

Thank you,
my lady.

Rose: Have you had
a horrible day, darling?

Hopkirk: Horrible.

Such a relief...

Good camera.

Quality lens.

What's happening
about the supermarket?

Oh, it looks
like it's going ahead.

Actually, there's
a big meeting tonight.

You need a night...

Could you pause it
there, please?

Was that the first time

you'd discussed the supermarket
development with him?

Yes, but I didn't know
he was involved.

Carry on.

Rose:
Look, I've cooked you

a lovely sponge cake.

Shall I be Mummy?

[Breathing deeply]

[Deep breathing
and moaning]

Could you
fast-forward?

I want to see
when Frank Hopkirk left.

Are you...

going to arrest me?

What for, murder?

No.

What about the...

That is not

my department,
Mrs. Southerly.

Thank you, Inspector.

But I will need
that recording, please.

The recording of
Frank Hopkirk's last visit.

No, she didn't
do it, Jones.

Hopkirk left her kitchen
at 12:30.

He was still alive
and kicking,

and the murder weapon
was still on the kitchen table.

Five minutes later,
she's teaching

the good ladies
of Midsomer Parva

how to make fairy cakes.

And she spent the rest
of the afternoon with Dora.

Someone must have
nicked the knife, sir.

Yes, someone went to
a great deal of trouble

to incriminate
Rose Southerly.

Mr. Painter.

Ah, Inspector.

Take a seat, please.

You two know each other
already, don't you?

Great. Great.

So how's the investigation
coming along?

Well, I'd rather discuss it
in private, if we may.

As you know, Miranda
worked very closely

with Frank Hopkirk.
And I want to help

in any way I can,
Inspector.

Yes, I do appreciate that,
but, uh,

as Frank Hopkirk was
working for the Council...

Oh, no, no, Frank was

an independent consultant,
Inspector.

As I made clear.

Yes, but the Council were

consulting him,
weren't they?

As were Goodfare.

Is there a conflict
of interest there?

Certainly not!

Both parties working
to a common end, Inspector.

Exactly.

Huh.

So you were both
consulting him

about pollution
at Jubbs Timber Yard

and the adjacent
Jubbs Field, yes?

Yes, Jubbs used
an arsenic-based pesticide

to treat their timber.

That's been
phased out now,

but it was very common
back then.

It seems Jubbs had some sort
of industrial accident...

spillage... well, to cut
a long story short,

the levels of arsenic
in the topsoil

are way over the limit.

So the site
is contaminated?

Yeah.

Unusable, unless the topsoil
is removed and treated.

That's far too expensive
for the Council to do.

So Goodfare

get the land cheaper?

Maybe, but they also
clean up the site

at their own expense.

So what was Mr. Hopkirk
doing on Jubbs Field

on the day he died?

More tests?

No, no, tests
were all done.

It was probably
a health and safety matter.

I know that
Mr. Hopkirk tried

to contact you, Mrs. Harvey,
on the day he died.

But did you talk to him
at all, Mr. Painter?

Me?
No, absolutely not.

[Telephone rings]

Oh, excuse me, folks,
that's my 1:30.

So I took the top
of his head off,

had a poke round,
and guess what!

Surprise me,
George.

Poor devil had
a massive stroke.

A stroke?

Are you saying
that's what killed him?

Oh, no, the stabbing
killed him.

I reckon he had
the stroke

around about the same time
he sustained

the bruises
to his chest and back.

Now, if he was involved
in a fight or dispute

of some sort, that would have
raised his blood pressure

and perhaps caused
the stroke.

But it was some hours later
that he was stabbed.

Anyway, it solves
the problem

of the, uh, stab wounds.

What problem?

They're very symmetrical,
Tom, all from the same angle,

which suggests that
he remained motionless

whilst being attacked...

which people tend
not to do.

Unless they're
unconscious.

Or paralyzed.

So you're saying
he could have had

the stroke and remained
unconscious or paralyzed

for what, five, six hours?

It's possible.
And then been stabbed.

Uh-huh.

Uh... you said something
about under his nails.

Oh, yes!

Beeswax, lanolin,
and turpentine.

Now your starter
for 10.

Saddle soap.

Spot-on!

I'm very impressed, Ben.

And there's something else.

You'll never
guess what.

What, George?

Residue on his hands...
gunshot residue.

So he fired a shotgun

not long before he died.

I tell you, this chap's
a mine of information.

[Gunshot]

[Gunshot]

[Gunshot]

Well.

At least we can fill in
some of the gaps

in Mr. Hopkirk's last day
now, can't we?

We can?

Yes, we can.

Where do you think
he got

the saddle soap from,
then, Jones, eh?

Stables?
How about
Lamington's Riding School?

Of course.

And the gunshot residue
on his hands?

Patchetts' place.

Exactly.

Center for Rural Pursuits.

So Mr. Hopkirk

parks here,
then he goes to Jubbs Field,

where he's spotted
by Dora and Otis.

Then he walks
to Rose Southerly's

for his...

Cake?

Leaves there
at 12:30.

He walks to The Woodman,
has a drink,

goes
to the village shop.

Leaves there about 1:00.

And goes riding
with Ginny Lamington

and shooting
at the Patchetts'

Not a bad day,
one way and another.

Till he had his stroke.

Then he got himself stabbed.

Not many people would
fit that into a lifetime,

never mind a day.

I'm supposed to be meeting

this friend of my uncle's
at The Woodman.

I'm going to drop in

on the huntin'. Shootin'.
And fishin' set.

Okay.

Uncle Harry says you had
a friend

who used to work
at Jubbs Timber Yard.

Yep, yep, had a few mates
used to work at Jubbs.

The one I was thinking of
was called Johnny.

It's a funny old pint,
that is.

Would you like
something else?

Drop of Scotch
would help it go down.

[Gunshot]

Celia: Help!

Somebody help me,
please!

Help!

Please!

Somebody help me, please!

[Muttering]
For God's sake, hurry up.

Help!

It's all right.

Oh, my.
Don't move.

What the hell
are you doing here?

Sorry, got lost!

I say!

I'm supposed to rescue her!

What's going on here?
Who is this?

I am Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby from Causton CID.

A policeman?

Jeremy: What's the meaning
of this?

And this is her husband.

Her husband?

Jeremy:
Sir Charles, wait!

Barnaby: Mr. Patchett,
stay where you are.

We need
a little chat.

Jones: So, your mate
who worked at Jubbs,

Johnny someone.

Yep, yep, Johnny
used to work at Jubbs.

Can you remember
his surname?

His surname?

Oh, yes, his surname.

His name was... uh...

Crouch.
Yep, Johnny Crouch.

Johnny Crouch?

Is that who Hopkirk
was asking after?

Sorry,
doesn't ring a bell.

Where does he live?

Badgers Drift,
I reckon.

Oh, Johnny Crouch...

miserable old git,

never put his hand
in his pocket.

That's Mr. Saunders.

Yes, that's Saunders.

Comes here
for a spot of shooting.

His real name
is Frank Hopkirk.

It was his body

that was found
on Jubbs Field.

No!

We had no idea,
I swear!

But he was here
that day, wasn't he?

Well, look, you can come
with me

to Causton Police Station

if you'd like,
you can answer

a few questions
on fake man-traps.

Yes.
He was here.

Thank you.

What time,
exactly?

He got here
about 1:30

and left
just before 3:00.

And you were here,
were you,

Mr. Patchett?

With your telephoto lens?

I was, um, supervising
the session, yes.

And did
that session include

the use
of a fake man-trap, too?

I know what you
must think of us, Inspector.

You do?

Most of our courses
are genuine, you know,

but some involve
a little harmless...

role play.

Needs must,
Inspector.

I was an accountant,
but something

went a little bit wrong
with my company.

Most of them went
to prison, actually.

So we needed
to start again,

in order to survive.

It's actually brought us
closer together,

hasn't it, darling?

Jeremy never thought
working from home

could be such fun.

[Horse whinnying]

[Horse whinnying]

I'm working as fast
as I can.

Good afternoon, sir.

Oh!

Well, I wasn't really
ready for this, but...

what the heck?

Variety is the spice,
right?

Where's Mrs. Lamington?

Oh, who needs her?

You can check my work.

I don't think
you're going to like it at all.

Ginny: Time out,
Mr. Hundsecker.

Can I have a word,
please, Mrs. Lamington?

Can I have
my whip back?

Yes, I recognize him.
His name is Wilson.

Peter Wilson.

Actually, his real name
was Frank Hopkirk.

He's the man whose body
was found on Jubbs Field.

Really?

Well, he was alive
when he left here.

About what time
was that?

He arrived
about 3:00.

We went for a ride,
did a little jumping.

He must have left
about 4:00.

And was he
in rude health?

Yes.
A little tired, perhaps.

[Knock on door]

Man: Coming!

[Banging on door]

I said I'm coming!

[Crashing]

[Crashing continues]

Hey!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

[Engine revving,
driving away]

[Dog barking]

Hello, Dora.

Hello.

Dora...

do you remember
you saying something to me

about the men hanging
around your house?

Maybe.

What men were they,
Dora?

Orlando Lamington,
mostly,

and Danny... Otis's dad.

They both fancy
her mum.

That's why
they were fighting

at the village hall.

Losers.

You shouldn't
spread stories, Dora.

They can hurt people.

Everybody thinks
we tell lies

because we're kids.

But we don't.

We see everything.

It's all facts.

Like the Rev. Suze.

[Laughing]

What about
the Rev. Suze?

Ask her why she goes jogging

on Monday afternoons.

Monday afternoons?

It's when Gary Talbot
does his "deliveries."

They're having a thing.

Fact.

[Honking]

[Car door opens, closes]

Mummy wouldn't do
anything like that.

She still loves Dad.

I know, Dora.

I know.

[Car door opens, closes,
dog barking]

Barnaby:
A kettle, Jones?

Yes, sir.

Wielded by
an 80-year-old?

Yes.

As I was saying,
the arsenic

in the topsoil
is supposed to come

from this pesticide
they treat wood with,

but Johnny Crouch says
the timber from Jubbs's

was treated elsewhere.

They never kept
much pesticide on site,

and he's sure there was
never a big spillage.

That's Nether Lane
up there, isn't it?
Yes, sir.

Didn't the Reverend Suze
tell us she jogs there

first thing
every morning?

Yes, yeah, she did.

Well, I have it
on fairly good authority

that she went
for a jog there

on Monday afternoon.

Now, why didn't she
mention that, I wonder?

Perhaps it slipped
her mind.

Well, let's go and refresh
her memory, shall we?

But, sir, what about
this pesticide business?
All in good time.

Rev. Suze: And lead us not
into temptation.

For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory,

forever and ever.

Amen.

Amen.

[Footsteps approach]

I'd like a word,
please, vicar,

if you've got a minute.

Mrs. Southerly.

Darling Rose
has been sharing

some of her burden
with me.

So important
to talk things through

without being judged,
I think.

I do so agree.

I was hoping
that we could talk through

the fact that you didn't
tell us you went for a jog

on Monday afternoon.

Oh, God, I knew
this would happen.

So God knows
all about it,

but I don't.

[Sighs]
Yes, I went for a run

Monday afternoon.

What time?

About... 6:30.

I had to meet someone.

Who?

It was Gary Talbot,

wasn't it?

Yes.

I never intended it
to go this far,

but...

but the flesh
is weak.

Why didn't you
tell us this?

Gary is a married man,

Inspector.

Oh, so you're doing this
for Gary's sake.

Oh, that is
very noble of you.

And Ginny Lamington's sake.

What's Ginny Lamington
got to do with this?

Rev. Suze: I was...
running down Nether Lane.

I'd arranged to meet Gary
at 7:00.

The van was parked
in the usual place.

And we were talking...

that's all we do,
really, talk...

when suddenly

we saw Ginny Lamington's
horse box

in the middle of the lane.

It was Ginny Lamington,
with...

with someone else.

Who?

I couldn't see.

Perhaps it was
her husband.

No.

Orlando was
on the train home...

he'd just phoned me
about the meeting.

So I thought Ginny was...

Doing the same as you.

I thought it was best
to keep quiet,

for everybody's sake.

After all, it's got
nothing to do

with that poor man
who died...

has it?

Jones: Hopkirk's body
could have been

in Talbot's van
or the horse box.

If we've got Gary Talbot's
movements right,

he wouldn't have had time
for loading up dead bodies.

The horse box, then.

So who was the mystery man
with Ginny Lamington?

Jones... stay here.

Poor Giles.

He would have been appalled.

I made such a mess of things.

You must have
a very low opinion

of me, Inspector.

Oh! I'm a policeman,
Mrs. Southerly.

I leave the judging
to someone else.

The vicar's been
a great help.

How I envy
her serenity.

Yes, it's miraculous,
isn't it?

Mrs. Southerly...

someone went to
a great deal of trouble

to steal that knife
from your kitchen.

Someone who was determined

to incriminate you.

Who could have taken
that knife, do you think?

A friend, perhaps?

Someone you
wouldn't suspect?

There was no one.

Just me and...
Dora.

Wait a minute.

Ginny Lamington
came round.

She wanted to borrow
a cookery book.

What time?

About half past 5:00.

I thought it was
it was odd.

I was due to go round
to her house for a meeting.

She could
have just phoned me.

Did you leave her alone
in the kitchen?

Yes.

The book was
in the drawing room.

My God!

Why would she do
such a thing?

Well, I believe
that her husband

was paying you
a lot of attention.

I begged Orlando
to leave me alone.

Nothing happened
between us.

You have to believe me,
Inspector.

I believe you,
Mrs. Southerly.

Jones.

Ah.

The strong arm
of the law.

Would you gentlemen

like to go for a ride?

I'm sure I can find you
some suitably docile animals.

No, thank you,
Mrs. Lamington.

Just like to ask you
a couple of questions,

if we may.

Fire away.

Last Monday, did you go
to Rose Southerly's house

in the afternoon,
round about 5:30?

No, I don't believe I did.

Mrs. Southerly says
you did.

What are you doing?

Just wondered
if you had CCTV set up,

like, uh, Mrs. Southerly.

Mrs. Southerly says

you went round
to her house

to borrow a cookbook.

Well, she's wrong.

Even the lovely Rose
can be wrong sometimes.

Do you mind?

Here we are.

Same kind of camera, too.

It's for security reasons.

We've had a lot of break-ins
recently.

Mrs. Southerly is sure
that you went to her house.

Where's the monitor?

One at a time,
gentlemen, please.

I can't answer you both
at once.

Rose... she's one of my best
friends, Inspector.

We're in and out

of each other's houses
all the time.

How can you expect me
to remember

what happened last Monday?

Well, you ought to,
Mrs. Lamington,

because you took
one of Rose Southerly's

What's in here?
Kitchen knives,
didn't you?

You took one of
Rose Southerly's kitchen knives

and used it
to stab Frank Hopkirk,

didn't you,
Mrs. Lamington?

[Doorknob rattling]

Why?

What did Rose ever do
to you?

She stole you.

I'll show you.

I'll show you
what happened.

I wasn't there
when he died.

There's a recording.

You'll see
what really happened.

Mrs. Lamington...
who was with you

when you took the body
to Nether Lane?

It's not here.

He's taken it.

Who, Mrs. Lamington?

Jones: Sir.

"Goodfare...
we care."

Well, that's not yours,
is it, Mrs. Lamington,

nor yours,
Mr. Lamington.

I know who wears
a badge like that.

[Tires screech]

It's that copper, Dad.

He's in a bit of a hurry!

[Siren blaring]

May I, Mr. Piggott?

I recognize this.

What happens on there,
right,

it's not what
it looks like.

I didn't kill him,
I swear.

I swear!

There's a bottle of sherry,
in here, I think.

Excellent.

And, uh,

then...

I think I'm
going to give you

a bit of a telling-off.

Yes, please.

[Cracks whip]

[Mobile beeps]

Dudley, it's Frank Hopkirk.

Look, I'm sorry, but I can't
go through with this.

I can't sign off
the report.

[Scoffs]

There was no spillage
at Jubbs Field.

The findings are
wildly inaccurate.

I've written a new report,

and I've taken
more soil samples.

I'll make a public announcement
at the meeting tonight.

I don't care about
the money... I've...

I've had a change of heart.

Look, I'll see you there,
Dudley!

[Door opens]

Who are you?

Sorry, mate,
can't let you do this.

What's going on?
Where's Ginny?

Ginny!
It's been given the go-ahead,
and you can't stop it now!

Get away from me,
you lunatic!

[Crash]

[Grunting]

[Gasps]

[Gasps]

You muckin' about?

Ginny: Danny?

Oh, bloody hell, Ginny,
I think he's dead.

Look.

[Click]

Danny Piggott first, I think.

Ginny said she'd call
the emergency services.

She said it'd be better
all around

if I wasn't there,
so I went back to the pub.

What were you doing there
in the first place?

I'm not saying anything
about that.

How did Hopkirk
end up on Jubbs Field, Danny?
You'll have to ask Ginny.

Barnaby: Oh, we will,
Danny, we will.

But it looks pretty
straightforward to me.

You attacked
Frank Hopkirk in a rage,

and he collapsed
with a stroke.

He wasn't dead.

Well, you say that now,

but in the recording,

you said, and I quote,

"Bloody hell, Ginny,

Well, he wasn't.
I think he's dead."

How do you know, if you left
the stables straightaway?
I just do, okay?

But you didn't leave
the stables

straightaway,
did you, Danny?

Because you helped
Ginny Lamington

put Frank Hopkirk
into a horse box,

and later,
you and Ginny

drove that horse box
to Nether Lane

and you dumped the body
on Jubbs Field.

Okay, can we...

just wait.

All right...

Say I was on Jubbs Field,
for the sake of argument.

What does that mean?

I mean, what are
my prospects?

Well, that depends, Danny.

I mean, personally,
I don't

think you killed
Frank Hopkirk,

but that's just my opinion.

It's worthless...
it's no good

unless you tell me
the truth.

Right, then.

I thought he was dead.

[Horse whinnying]

Nothing.
You try.

What am I,
a doctor?

He looks dead
to me, darling.

You better call
the police.

No, no, no, no, no.

They can't find him here.

No, we'll get him
out of these clothes,

put him in the horse box,
and take him to Jubbs Field.

Danny:
So that's what we did.

We left it
till about 7:00,

then drove the horse box
down Nether Lane.

It was hard,
but we managed

to get him
onto the field.

Danny: We'd
better split up.

I'll see you
at the meeting.

Danny.

Come here.

Not a word.
Not a word to anyone.

Danny: I was going to wait
till Ginny had gone,

then look inside his bag,

take anything that might
screw up

the supermarket deal.

So I hid.

And I was waiting
for Ginny to go.

Only she didn't go,
did she?

[Gasping]

I can't move.

Help me.

Help me!

[Groaning]

Danny:
Terrible to watch.

[Grunting]

I'm sick to my stomach.

Barnaby: So sick,
Danny, that you waited

till Ginny Lamington left,

and then you ransacked
Frank Hopkirk's bag

and his wallet.

Goodfare was my ticket
out of Elverton.

I wasn't going to
give it up that easy.

Ginny: It's all
Rose Southerly's fault.

Everything in the garden
was lovely

until her and her husband

arrived in the village
10 years ago.

Orlando became infatuated
with her almost immediately.

And when Giles died,
it just got worse.

Orlando was always on hand
to give

poor little darling little Rose
advice.

Then Rose introduced myself
and Celia to some of her clients

and the business took off
in a big way,

so I saw even less
of Orlando.

I was bored and... angry,

so I started having
an affair with Danny Piggott.

I half hoped Orlando
would find out, actually.

But of course he never
noticed a thing.

How did Danny find out

about the business?

I had too much to drink
one night and told him.

He used to come to the stables
sometimes and watch.

That's what he was doing there
that Monday.

So then the final insult,
Inspector,

was when Danny started
to pursue Rose.

I mean, to get at Orlando,
of course.

Men, you know.

Oh, yes, I really loathe
dear little Rose.

And when Frank Hopkirk
collapsed

in the stables,

you saw an opportunity.

I knew what I was
going to do immediately.

Steal one
of Rose's knives

and stab him with it.

See how she felt,
being accused of murder.

See the smile wiped off

that simpering little face.

You know what really
annoyed me

was that she wouldn't
sleep with either of them.

So she stole my husband
and she stole my lover,

and she still kept
the moral high ground,

and that, Inspector,
is enough

to drive anyone
to murder.

Jones: So Goodfare
gets the land cheap,

and they don't
have to pay anything

clearing it up, because
it isn't contaminated.

Great scam.

So you were right,
Jones,

there was a conspiracy
over Jubbs Field.

Well, if Ginny Lamington
hadn't have been

jealous of Rose Southerly,

nobody would have been
any the wiser.

Crime of passion, sir.

We were both right.

How very satisfying.

Man: Sir!

It's Hopkirk's phone,
sir.

There'll be a record
of a call to Dudley Painter.

Oh, good,
I'm looking forward

to talking
to Mr. Painter again.

[Water running]

Funnily enough,
Rose Southerly

once asked me if I'd like to
help out at the cookery school.

Doing what,
exactly?

I'm not sure.

I wouldn't want to act out
that "perfect wife" stuff.

God knows I get enough
of that at home.

And I couldn't do
Celia Patchett's

"damsel in distress" act...
ugh.

So demeaning.

But Ginny Lamington's
routine...

dishing out a bit
of discipline...

that, that I could handle.

Really?

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