All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S03E03_ Judgement Day

I don't want you to go.

Why do you have to go?

Come on, Anna.
We talked about this.

It's Mummy and Daddy's
anniversary.

I don't care!

I don't want you to go.

We'll be home later.

Don't you want us to have
a good time?

No.

Are you off, then?

We're just going.

You'll be all right
with Mrs. Foster.

You'll have a nice time.

No, I won't.

Oh, you naughty child.

You go straight up to your room.

You'll watch no television
tonight.

I don't care!
I hate you!

Oh, you just wait
until your parents come home.

Just wait until I tell them!

The cold light of dawn
revealed a grim sight.

In addition, it had brought
with it a note of tragedy.

The owner of the car
had been discovered.

His remains had been found

beneath the debris
of a gutted Cadillac.

There's nothing hereto
indicate how the fire started.

Nothing.

No!

No!

No!

No!

What is it?

I don't know.

Mrs. Foster?

Mrs. Foster?

[ Screams, gasps 1

Annabel?

Oh.

Thank God.

Oh, thank God.

Come on, Ray.
You don't want to be late.

I'll be back in an hour.

I don't know why you're wasting
your time going.

They're all snobs.

It's for the village, Jack.

That's why I'm going.

Marcus!

It's 51011200.

We ought to be on our way.

Righty-o.

Marcus.

I'm coming. I'm coming.
Don't blow a fuse.

- Bye, Mum.
- Where are you going, dear?

I don't know.
Just out.

See you.

There.
That's a good boy.

Feels much better.

Is he still limping?

Not really.

We'll keep him
on the painkillers a bit longer,

but I think he's going to be
okay.

There's a good boy, Jackie.

His name's Lucky.

Right.

If you don't mind removing
your hand from that dog's arse,

Gordon, darling,
it's time to go.

We come to the main item
on the agenda.

The Perfect Village competition.

As we all know,
it's only four days away now.

July 10th.

That's it.

And let's not forget the first
prize of £5,000 that's at stake.

We could rebuild
the village hall with that.

Absolutely, Ray.

So we're leaving nothing
to chance.

- Bella?
- Oh. Of course.

Thank you.

The tent's going up on the green
the day before,

so lunch will be served at 1:00.

Yes. I've got all the food
sorted, Mr. Devere.

We're going to have sausages,
chicken wings, and pasties.

I'll do the village proud.

And at the same time,

I'll be serving
some of Marcus' homemade wine.

The apricot and elderberry
has turned out

absolutely tip-top this year.

Oh, it'll certainly make
an impression.

Entertainment.

A musical gala on the green
to accompany lunch. Mary?

Nothing to worry about there,
Marcus.

I've been working
with the village orchestra.

In fact, we've been going at it
hammer and tongs.

Well, not literally, I hope.

It's important
to show these judges

that there's still some
young blood in Midsomer Mallow.

Absolutely.

I don't suppose we know yet
who the judges actually are.

Well, Rosemary Furman,
the editor of Country Matters,

is going to be one.

And I think Frank Mannion
has agreed to join the panel.

Frank Mannion.

He does that gardening program
on television.

"Along the Garden Path."

That's right.

And I believe Annabel Cross
has also been asked to join.

Oh.

And there's also a member
of the public.

- Oh?
- Yes.

Uh, they ran a competition,
and someone --

I've got her name here
somewhere.

Anyway, the winner will be asked
to join the panel.

She'll probably be
the easiest one to impress.

Bung her an extra sausage...
and her vote will be in the bag.

Hm.

So you're going to be a judge?

What's the first prize?

That was the first prize, Tom.

It means a week away from home,
first-class travel,

and a big dinner at the end.

Away from home for a week.

Don't worry.
I've already phoned Cully.

- She's coming tomorrow.
- Is she not working?

She is, as a matter of fact.
She's writing a book.

A book?

That's different.

It's something to do
with the theater.

I'm sure she'll tell you
all about it.

The Perfect Village competition.

I don't suppose
any of the Midsomer Villages

made it through to the final.

There is one, yes.
Midsomer Mallow.

Tom, don't tell me
you're investigating

some grisly murder there.

No, no.
Very quiet at the moment.

Apart from one thing.

We've had a spate of burglaries.

I've got to go.

Oh, Petey.
Have you?

Yeah.

And so have you.

Why?
Where are you going?

I've got business.

There's someone else,
isn't there?

No.

I couldn't bear it if there was.

I really couldn't.

You'd better get home.

Your mum and dad would kill you
if they knew you were here.

They'd kill you first.

Greyfriars House.

Peter, are you sure about this?

You said he was going to be
in London, not back until late.

I mean...

It's too much too soon.

We're gonna get caught.

You losing your bottle, Jack?

No.

I hope not.

Come on.

What is it?

I thought I heard something.

Leave it!

There's nothing here.

Let's go.

You old fart.

Right.
Let's go.

Piece of cake.

How many is this? Six?

- Seven.
- Seven?

Seven burglaries in two months.

It's an epidemic, Troy.
Who is it this time?

His name's Edward Allardice.
He's a retired actor.

Lives here alone.

Big house for one man.

And where was he last night?

You can ask him yourself.
He's inside.

I had to go to London yesterday.

A meeting with my accountant.

I didn't get back
till 1:00 in the morning.

It's almost as if they knew.

Did you tell anyone about your
travel plans, Mr. Allardice?

No.
I keep myself to myself.

Oh, I may have mentioned
something to Ray.

Dorset.
The butcher.

You can't go in there
without chatting.

And there was no one
in the house?

My wife died some years ago,
and I live alone.

But, uh, I may be able
to help you.

Sir?

Well, when I was driving home,
I saw a white van.

I was quite near the house,
and it was doing a ton.

That's why I noticed it.

I don't suppose you got...

Registration number?
Well, yes. I got most of it.

M 293...

then an F --
or it could have been an E --

something, W.

It was going too fast.

That may be very helpful, sir.

If ever I get my hands on the
little bastards that did this,

I'll kill them.

It wasn't just what they stole.

It was the damage they did.

That portrait was painted
by Lucien Blake.

And the bowl they smashed, which
was given to me by Olivier.

Irreplaceable.

We'll do what we can, sir.

Don't mind me asking, sir --

How do you know
there were two of them?

I'm sorry?

You said "little bastards,"
plural.

There could have been just one.

Well...l assumed.

They always come in pairs,
don't they?

You don't think
he was lying, do you --

about being out of the house?

Those were made last night.

I've checked them.
They don't match his car.

They could belong
to the white van.

Quite possibly, Troy.

But these tracks are quite
clearly turning that way,

aren't they?

And surely the London road
is over there.

So if Allardice was coming
from London...

He couldn't have seen the van.

So he is lying.

Or obfuscating, certainly.

You must be the police officers

come to investigate
the break-ins?

Yes, sir.

You must know a lot
about the village, working here.

I suppose I do.

Has there been anyone in here
who's new to the area?

Someone perhaps showing
a special interest

in other peoples' movements?

No. No.

The last person to come to
the village was Mr. Allardice.

That was quite recent --
five, six years ago.

No one more recent than that?

Well, I don't like to point
the finger at anyone.

Go on.

You might want to talk
to Peter Drinkwater.

He's Mary Drinkwater's nephew --
great-nephew.

He came back to live in
the village earlier this year.

Lived with her for a while, and
then he moved into the old farm.

Windy/whistle Farm.

It's deserted now.

Peter Drinkwater.

Young lad.

Bit on the wild side.

Peter Drinkwater.

That name rings a bell.

Do you want to go and talk
to him?

Unless you have other plans.

Why did you have to do that?

Why did you have to talk about
Peter that way?

I could have said more
than I did.

He's my friend, Dad.

He's trouble!

And he's leading you
into trouble.

I wish he'd never come here.

Sometimes I want to...

What?

Nothing.

What time is it?

12:00.

Gordon will be back soon.
It's his afternoon surgery.

You've got to go.

All right.

You don't care, do you?

What?

Stay or go.

You don't care.

Maybe that's what I like
about you, Peter.

You're so bloody heartless.

You're like an animal.

Watch it.

I'm complimenting you.

If Gordon ever found out
about you, he'd neuter you.

Do you know that?

He's good at that.

If you don't like Gordon, why do
you talk about him so much?

Good question.

Don't ever change.

I like you just the way you are.

And you know what I like
about you?

What?

Your generosity.

I hadn't forgotten.

You still seeing that girl --
the Devere girl?

Caroline.

I wonder what she'd say
if she knew about me.

Get lost, Laura.

Just piss off, all right?

You start threatening me,

you can look for
your 50-quid thrills elsewhere.

Peter.

Maybe you should try Jack.

He'd do it for 30.

And he might even enjoy it.

God.

You little bastard.

Windy/whistle Farm.

If you wanted a place to stash
some stolen loot,

this would be it.

All these outbuildings.

- It's got to be him.
- Yes.

Here he is now.

You're Peter Drinkwater?

And you're police, aren't you?

Detective Sergeant Troy.
Causton C.l.D.

This is Detective
Chief Inspector Barnaby.

It's the same smell.

You can always tell.

Would you mind stepping out
of the car?

We'd like to talk to you
about a break-in

at Greyfriars House last night.

Would you?

And what if I don't want to talk
to you?

You realize I could be back here
in a couple of hours

with a warrant
to search this entire place?

Search it.

I don't give a damn.

Charming.

Yes.

Do you want me to take
a look around?

No, Troy.
We'll do this one by the book.

Let's get the warrant first.

Hi.
What's for lunch?

I've been out walking,
and I'm stivvy starving.

What is it?

Peter Drinkwater.

What?

You're seeing him again,
aren't you?

- No.
- Don't lie to me, Caroline.

I found these in your room.

- Mummy.
- Letters.

Love letters.
Disgusting letters.

How could you?

You shouldn't be searching
in my room.

That boy is a snake
in the grass.

He is nothing but trouble.
And you will listen to me.

No, I won't.

I'm 20 years old now.

I can do what I like.

Look.

Maybe I should go
and have a talk to him.

Just the two oi us.
Mano a mano.

No, Daddy.
No.

I love Peter more than anyone
in the whole world.

We're going to live together,
and there's nothing you can do.

Oh!
Afternoon, Caroline.

- Is something the matter?
- No.

You know, I was talking
about you only this morning.

I was rather hoping
I'd bump into you.

Mrs. Brierly --

I was talking
to Peter Drinkwater.

I know he's a friend of yours.

But perhaps there's something
you ought to know about him.

And I'm going to tell you.

- Sir?
- Shh.

Thought I knew that name.
Peter Drinkwater.

He's got a record.

Nothing very serious.

Two police cautions.

Taking and driving away.

Shoplifting.

Oh.

And a six-month
suspended sentence for assault.

And you think he's graduated
to burglary?

What have you got?

The registration number
of the van.

Had to go 'round in circles
a bit, but I finally got there.

M 923 FBW.

A white Renault Traffic

registered to Ray Dorset
in Midsomer Mallow.

Oh.
Ray Dorset the butcher?

He has a 21-year-old son.
Jack Dorset.

I think it may have been him
working in the shop.

And the shop is the center
of gossip in any village.

People tell Ray
when they're going to be away

for the weekend.

And Jack tells his mate Peter.

I think so.

Who shall we go for first?

Oh. Peter.
He was an obnoxious little sod.

Let's start with him.

Oh, right.

Right, everyone.

Can you calm down, please?

Thank you.

Now, this is our last rehearsal
before judgment day.

And you all know
how important it is

that we make
the right impression.

Thank you, Richard.

I want lots of energy,
lots of pizazz.

Now, everyone together now.

One, two, three, one, two,
and...

You finish it.
I'm going out.

Where are you going?

Just out.

Jack?

What?

That was the van. M 923 FBW.

Do you want me to go after it?

No. That was the butcher,
Ray Dorset, driving.

We'll catch up with him later.

Get yourselves 'round the back.
I don't want him getting away.

Sir?

There was a computer

on the inventory
taken from the Allardice house.

Oh, I wish they were all as easy
as this.

Now all we need to do
is find Mr. Drinkwater.

Sir?

Oh, for heaven's sake.

Nasty way to go.

Yes.

Quick, though.

One of the prongs cracked a rib

and went straight
into the heart.

Must have taken
quite a lot of strength.

Are you saying it was a man?

Or a very strong woman.

Skewered him like a spud
on Guy Fawkes Night.

I wouldn't be surprised
if it shattered the spleen

and the kidney, too.

Right.

Certainly one for the books,
though.

Death by pitchfork.

Personally, I've never seen
anything like it.

How long ago did it happen?

Well, the body's still warm
to the touch.

No sign of rigor mortis.

Half an hour to an hour, tops.

Shame you didn't get here
a bit sooner.

Yes.

What did you want him for?

Burglar'!-

Well, I suppose
that's rough justice, then.

Breaking and entering.

That's what someone did to him.

You mind if I take him?

Yeah.
You go ahead.

Right.
Uh, Cyril?

Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute.
What's that, Troy?

Credit card, sir.

Oh.
So it is.

Name of Gordon Brierly.

I suppose
it must have been stolen.

Do you think this has got
anything to do

with the break-ins, sir?

Hard to say.

We need to know more about the
late Peter Drinkwater, don't we?

He had an aunt
living in the village.

He also had an accomplice.

We have an eyewitness who places
your father's van at the scene

of at least one of the houses
broken into.

We have also recovered
several of the missing items

from Windy/whistle Farm.

And I must warn you --

We're gonna have those checked
for fingerprints.

They were using my van?

Yes.

Okay. I'll tell you
what you want to know.

But on my own.

If you wouldn't mind, sir.

- Jack?
- It's all right, Dad.

We were at school together,
Pete and me.

The break-ins was his idea.

But you had a good job
with your father.

Why did you get involved
with him?

I hate the bloody job.

Bowing and scraping
behind the bloody meat counter.

That's no life.

So how many were there?

- What?
- Burglaries.

Too many.

I told him that
but he wouldn't listen.

What, you argued?

No.

No. You couldn't argue with him.
He wouldn't listen.

Would you say he had
any enemies?

Who hated Peter Drinkwater?

Be easier to ask who didn't.

You had no idea
what he was up to?

Of course not.
If I'd known, I'd have...

What?

I'd have stopped him.

I'm sorry, sir.

But I'm afraid I'm going to
have to charge your son

with various offenses
connected with the break-ins.

It wasn't his fault.

He didn't know
what he was doing.

-It was that other one.
- Peter Drinkwater?

You think Peter Drinkwater
led your son astray?

That why you went to see him
this afternoon?

What?

We saw you just before 3:00.

We were driving
up to Windy/whistle Farm.

You passed us on the road.

I wasn't up at the farm.

No.
I was making my deliveries.

I was on my way to Causton.

So you drove past the entrance
to the farm.

- Yeah, but I didn't stop.
- You didn't see anything?

There was a car
coming out of the yard.

A Renault.
Bright red.

One of the newer models.

I don't suppose
you got a number.

No.

And I didn't see
who was driving it either.

Had tinted windows.

Mr. Devere's got a Renault.

It's bright red.
It's got tinted windows.

Perhaps you should be talking
to him.

"Screamy."

That's 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 14.

Plus 15, 16, 17, 18, 21 --
and 50 for using all my letters.

71.

That's jolly good.

Uh, it's not actually a word,
though, is it -- "screamy"?

What?

You could have "scream."

It is a word.

Some films are screamy.

It's in the dictionary.

If you say so.

Have you heard?

What?

He's been killed.
Peter.

Everyone's talking about it
in the village.

Police are up at the farm.

They say he was stabbed.

What?

Caroline.

I thought I loved him.

But I didn't.

And now he's dead,
and I don't care.

But you got what you wanted,
both of you.

So I hope you're glad.

Hello, Dad.

Hello, you.

What news, then, of the judging?

They've booked us
into the Castle Hotel at Wisden,

and the first meetings
on Friday.

Do we know the other judges?

There's Rosemary Furman
and Frank Mannion.

"Along the Garden Path."

And they were going to have
Annabel Cross,

but at the last minute,
she's let them down.

They've managed to get
Samantha Johnstone to step in.

She writes
"The Sister Claire Chronicles."

Life in an English village

seen through the eyes
of a retired nun.

How long are you going to be
away?

Only a week.

We're in somewhere
called Little Kirkbridge

the day after tomorrow

and then Midsomer Mallow
the day after that.

Midsomer Mallow?
I was there myself today.

- Another burglary?
- No.

I think we've found the burglar.

- Have you made an arrest yet?
- No.

I thought you just said
that you'd got the burglar.

Yes.

But I'm afraid
he didn't have very much to say.

Morning, sir.

Morning, Troy.

That looks like the red Renault
Ray Dorset was telling us about.

Oh.
Lothlorian.

That's "Lord of the Rings,"
that.

- Huh?
- J.R. Tolkien.

Oh.
I never read it.

I started "The Hobbit" once.

And?

Well, it's all dwarves
and fairies.

I like books with a bit more,
you know...

Yeah. I can imagine.

Peter Drinkwater?

Of course I knew him.

Everyone in the village knew him
and probably wished they didn't.

I can't imagine
why you would wish to talk to us

about him, Chief Inspector.

Well, I'd be very interested
to know --

When was the last time you saw
Peter Drinkwater, Mrs. Devere?

The last time?

I couldn't tell you.

A...A week ago?

I saw him lounging
outside the Crooked Billet.

That'd have been last Thursday.

I didn't speak to him, though.

So neither of you have seen him
in the last 24 hours.

No.

Then how would you explain
the fact

that your car was seen leaving
Windy/whistle Farm

just before 3:00
yesterday afternoon?

Exactly the same time
Drinkwater was killed.

What?

I don't suppose anybody else
drives your car.

Oh.
Your daughter?

She doesn't drive.

Then it must have been
one of you.

Yes, it was.

Actually, it was me.

Marcus?

Who was it who actually saw me?

Just out of interest.

Ray Dorset.
The butcher.

He was on his way to Causton.

Ah.

Rather landed me in it,
hasn't he?

That's not like Ray.

So you did see Peter Drinkwater.

No.

No, I didn't.

I did go to see him.

But he wasn't there.

At least I tooted, you know.

There was no answer,
so I drove away.

May I ask --
Why did you go to see him?

Well, it's a bit personal,
really.

The fact is, he's been
carrying on with Caroline.

Our daughter.

I wanted to know
what his intentions were.

So I thought we ought to have
a chat, mano a mano.

Those were my exact words,
weren't they?

Do you remember
what time you left home?

It would be about half 2:00.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off
in the afternoon.

And that's when I went.

It was half past 2:00.
Yes.

But you didn't see anyone
at the farm?

Only Ra'!-

Yes.
He -- He drove past.

You certain it was Ray
driving the van?

Yes. He had the window down.
He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

You can't really think
my husband had anything to do

with what happened, Mr. Barnaby.

He was with the National
Westminster for 37 years.

Yes.
I worked in the city.

This your daughter -- Caroline?

Yes.

That was taken
on her 18th birthday.

It's very nice.

I wonder -- Would it be possible
to have a word with her?

Do you know where she is now?

She has a summer job --
at the Causton Nursery.

Children?

Uh, flowers.

You're not looking
very happy today, are you?

No.

You're never going to go
to a nice home

if you don't cheer up a bit.

I always talk to the plants.

You know -- like Prince Charles.

It helps them grow.

When did you last see
Peter Drinkwater?

- Peter?

I don't know.

I suppose it was
the day before yesterday.

Were the two of you, um,
in a relationship?

I suppose Jack told you.

Peter told Jack everything.

Well, we were in a relationship,
but it was over.

I ended it.

Why did you do that?

Because of Laura Brierly.

- Brierly?
- Yes.

Laura told me lots of things
about Peter.

Private things.

But I knew
she was telling the truth,

and I didn't want to see him
again.

Were you angry with him?

I could have killed him.

But I didn't have to,
because somebody did it for me.

Looks like the Brierlys are out,
sir.

I'll catch up with them
later on.

In the meantime, Troy,
has it occurred to you

that someone actually threatened
to kill Peter Drinkwater

while we were actually there?

"Lever get my hands on the
little bastards who did this,

I'll kill them."

- Edward Allardice.
- Yeah.

Let's take his property
back to him.

I want to know why he lied
about that white van.

Or obfuscated, you mean.

What I say is I think
we ought to put it to the vote.

The judges will be arriving
the day after tomorrow.

Question is,
do we call the whole thing off?

What?

No.
It's too late to cancel.

It's not just us.
It's the whole village.

You don't think the fact

that we've just had
a brutal murder committed

won't damage our chances
just a teeny bit?

They don't need to know.

The judges.
Nobody needs to tell them.

That's right.

What do you think,
Miss Drinkwater?

Well, I suppose I'm thinking
of the children.

The village orchestra.

We've been rehearsing
for months.

And...

Well, I-I know it was Peter
who was killed.

My own flesh and blood.

I had to go and identify
the body and...

Steady on, old thing.
Shall I get you a drink?

No.
I'm all right.

Peter never did anything
for the village.

And it seems to me that if we
let his death spoil Saturday,

well, he's --
he's still spoiling things

even though he's gone.

So I'm afraid I agree with Ray.

Well, are we ready
to put it to the vote?

Let's take the ayes first.

I say this is a perfect village.

We have no reason to be ashamed.

I'm With that.

And me.

Yes.
I say we go on.

Well, I say you're all crazy.

You can't have music
and chicken wings

three days after a murder.

That's a "no," then.

It doesn't make any difference.

Ray, Bella, Mary and me.
That's a majority.

And I'm afraid
I'm with the others, Laura.

So the ayes have it.

Judgment day goes ahead.

I very much appreciate this,
Mr. Barnaby.

Oh. Just look upon it
as part of the service, sir.

- What about the rest of it?
- It's at the station.

You'll have to come in
and sign for it.

Well, I suppose it's all ended
fairly satisfactorily.

Yes.

Though not for Peter Drinkwater,
would you say?

The man who broke in.

Yes.
I'm sorry.

You did say
you wanted to kill him, though.

Oh, that was just words.

Anyway, I-I didn't know
who he was.

I was wondering --
You say you saw the white van.

You got part of the number,

but you didn't recognize
the van itself.

Though you must have seen it
often enough around the shop.

What exactly are you suggesting,
Detective Chief Inspector?

You sure you weren't at home
that night?

You could have been here.
You could have seen them.

I told you I was in London.

There was no one else
in the house?

I live alone.

My wife, Jane,
died in a car accident.

I was almost killed myself.

And I resent your questions.

In fact, if you don't mind,
I think I'd like you to leave.

Now.

It's all right.

They've gone.

But we have to be careful.

They might be coming back.

Tom?

I really ought to get going.

- Oh, yes.
- Have you seen the paper?

Uh, hasn't arrived yet.
Come on.

Mum, we're gonna be late.

Are you sure about this, Cully?
I could have taken a cab.

Goodbye, Joyce.

I'm quite nervous.

What do you think
the other judges will be like?

Ed, this is Rosemary.

I'm phoning from the car.

We're going to have to
do something

about the September cover.

Darling.
I said autumnal.

That doesn't have to mean
bloody funereal.

No, I can't.
I'm out of London all week.

This sodding competition.

We're on the M40 now.

The repeat-blooming shrub rose.

For me, it's the crowning glory
of any garden.

And what better choice
than our old friend

the English cottage rose?

Tough little fellow
with that lovely ripe fragrance.

And cut.

That's it, Jeremy, darling.
I'm out of here.

I've got a taxi waiting.

I'll see you all
in a week's time.

Toodle-oo.

Thanks.

Are you going in?

Yes.

Do I look all right?

You look fine.
Do you want me to come with you?

I Laughing] No.

Thank you for the lift.

Oh, God.

Country hotels.

Teasmaid in the bedroom

and teenaged waiters with acne
at reception.

I'm so glad you could make it,
Samantha.

I thought you might have been
back in that --

What's that psychiatric place
you go to?

The Retreat?

No.

Depression's a terrible thing.

Have you thought about Prozac?

Oh.

Hello, Rosemary.

Ah.

Samantha, darling, how are you?

I heard you'd stepped in
at the last minute.

Love the new book, by the way.

- I'm your biggest fan.
- Thank you.

Hello, Frank.

I haven't seen you since...

Since you fired me, Rosemary.

Oh, yes.

Well, you've got
that television program now.

Mm. And doing very nicely,
thank you very much.

Yes.

I suppose it allows you to
pursue your interest in pansies.

Mm.

Hello.

Joyce Barnaby?

Yes.

Hello.
My name's Rosemary Furman.

I'm editor of Country Matters.

And this is Frank Mannion.

How lovely to meet you.
I often watch your program.

Ah.
Now, these are green fingers.

I'm sure that you're
a wonderful gardener.

I can always tell.

Well, I...

And this is Samantha Johnstone.

Nice to meet you.

How do you do?

Oh...

Sorry.
Phone.

And do you read Country Matters?

Yes.

Do you live in the country?

Yes.
Well, sort of.

I live in Causton.

Causton.
I don't think I know it.

It's in Midsomer.

Ah. Yes.
Midsomer Mallow.

That's not far from us.

Coffee?

No, thank you.
Not for me.

Right.

Well, I think
we should get going.

Little Kirkbridge
this afternoon.

Midsomer Mallow tomorrow.

Does anyone actually know
where Midsomer Mallow is?

I see you're as well informed
as ever, Rosemary.

Joyce here lives quite near it.

Yes?

It's a nice place.

I've passed through it
once or twice.

Ah.

Now, I've had notes done
on all the finalists.

We should take a look at those
before we go.

This coffee is cold.

Frank, why don't you see if you
can get your hands on a waiter?

Fine.

But not literally.

Right?

Right.

Ah, Troy.

Take a look at this.

This might interest you.

What is it?

Edward Allardice.

I've been checking up on him.

He was telling the truth
about that car crash.

It was six years ago.

He was driving.

And, according to that report,
he was drunk.

So he killed his wife.

Well, that's just the thing.
There's no death certificate.

Her name was Jane Rochelle.

She was in the same business --
an actress.

And as far as I can see,
she survived.

So where is she now?

- Good question.
- And why lie about it?

Don't know.

Nothing in this case
is straightforward.

Allardice threatened to kill
Drinkwater,

but it was Marcus Devere
who was there on the day.

And Ray Dorset driving past.

Did you check that out?

Yeah.
He was in Causton at 3:00.

There's still something wrong.

The van passing the farm.

I don't know.

And then there's this.

Gordon Brierly's credit card.

You know, we still haven't
spoken to him.

Then it's time we did.

Gordon shouldn't be long.

He's over at Poplar Farm.

They've had an outbreak
of leptospirosis

in their dairy cattle.

- Milk?

I'll have mine black, thanks.

Mrs. Brierly, I'm afraid I've
got to ask you some questions

about your relationship
with Peter Drinkwater.

Ah.

I understand that you
and he were, um...

Involved.

Well, I suppose we might as well
be adult about this.

It was a question of supply
and demand.

And the truth is,
Gordon's always been a bit short

in the supply department,
if you know what I mean.

- Milk?
- Please.

Did he come to the house?

Occasionally.

So it's quite possible
he could have taken something

of your husband's from here.

Something of Gordon's?
Such as what?

Laura?

Gordon.

These are policemen.

They seem to have found
something of yours.

A credit card, sir.

Well, it's mine, all right.

Of course.

Where did you find it?

At Windy/whistle Farm.

Peter Drinkwater
was squatting there.

What?
And he'd taken my credit card?

Unless you were up there
yourself, sir,

and somehow managed to drop it.

I haven't been
up to Windy/whistle Farm.

I'd be interested to know
where you were around 3:00, sir,

on Wednesday.

Wednesday?

I was operating on Wednesday.

A cat had to be spayed.

You didn't go out?

No.

Laura was here.
She helped me.

We stayed in together.

Why did you tell them that?

What?

You went out on Wednesday
after you'd done the cat.

Did I?

Where did you go?

No, I didn't, Laura.

I was here all the time.

Do you understand?

I never left.

The village
of Little Kirkbridge,

today you have it seen.

And we finish now
where we began,

upon the village green.

Is he serious?

To celebrate your visit
and to hope you'll come again,

our merry team of morris men
are here to entertain.

Mm.

Oh, God.

We got long-sword dancing,

clog and molly dancing,

a Norfolk border dance
with sticks,

and finally they all put
on antlers

for something called
an Abbots Bromley Horn Dance.

How many points
did you give them?

Well, I thought
they were rather fun.

But I don't think the others
were very impressed.

What, the other judges?

How are they?

Rosemary has hay fever.

Samantha, the writer, well,
she's completely depressed.

Frank Mannion's all right.

Although I'm afraid after dinner

he disappeared
with one of the waiters.

Come home.

I'll see you tomorrow.
Midsomer Mallow.

Bye.

Oh.
Would you like to join me?

Oh, yes.
All right.

I'm so pleased to meet you.

I don't know what's happened
to the others.

Barman.

Two large whiskeys, please.

What are you going to have?

Why didn't you tell her?

What?

Mum.
About the murder.

Ah.
Well, I don't really know.

It, uh, didn't seem to be fair
somehow.

To her or the village?

To both.

I don't see how you can be
a perfect village

when you've got a homicidal
maniac running around

with a pitchfork.

Oh.
Maybe that's my point.

I didn't want to influence
her judgment.

Anyway, I'm not entirely sure

that it was
a homicidal maniac.

So who wanted to kill him?

Quite a few people, actually.

He was having an affair
with the vet's wife,

and he was carrying on
with someone else's daughter.

- At the same time?
- Mm-hmm.

And then there were
the burglaries.

He was breaking into
peoples' houses.

Yes, but you don't
murder someone

just 'cause they've burgled you,
do you?

Ah.

Well, as a matter of fact,

one of the victims threatened
to do exactly that.

Edward Allardice.
He said as much to me.

"If I ever get my hands on the
little bastards that did this,

I'll kill them."

Edward Allardice?
The actor?

Yeah.
Do you know him?

Dad, Edward Allardice did
four seasons at the Playhouse.

You know he was married
to Jane Rochelle.

Back in the '60s,
she was said to be

one of the most beautiful women
in the world.

She made a lot of films
in America.

But then she died
in a car accident, I think.

Is he really living
in Midsomer Mallow?

Yep.

Do you think I could meet him?

He could tell me everything
I need to know.

Well, I suppose
it'd be all right.

But he's still theoretically
a suspect

in my murder investigation.

Come on, Dad.

He wouldn't murder
a local delinquent.

He's a famous actor.

Well, maybe not.
But someone did.

Laura, aren't you ready yet?

It's 5107200.

Gordon...what are these
doing here?

They need to go in the wash.

But this is blood.

Yes.

Well, why did you put them
in the cupboard like that?

And...how did the blood
get there?

Is it animal blood?

Oh, yes.

It's animal, all right.

Nasty little creature.

It's all right now.
I put it out of its misery.

Now, let's go.
I don't want to be late.

That's fine.

Yes?

Mr. Allardice?

I'm writing a book
about the Causton Playhouse.

I just found out
that you live here and...

No, no. I'm sorry.
I'm not interested.

You met my father.

Tom Barnaby.

Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby.

He was here.

Yes.
He came about the burglary.

Yes.

Very well.

The police brought back the rest
of my property this morning.

I'm very grateful
to your father.

There was nothing
of any great financial value.

But some of it was sentimental.

You heard what happened --
to the man that broke in?

Yes.

He must have had a lot
of enemies, someone like that.

It seems he had one too many.

This is "Hamlet."
The 1955 production.

Yes.

Olivier directed it.

I was Laertes to his Hamlet.

He set it --

In a doll's house
with just seven actors.

Yes. That's right.
Yes.

He said he wanted to get
to the core of the play.

But, of course, really he wanted
more stage time for himself.

I'd like to have seen it.

Hm.

Well, I imagine
you'd have been too young.

Well, how can I help you?

Um, I'm writing a book
about the Playhouse,

and I wondered
if I could interview you.

Well, I'm not really interested
in being interviewed.

Been a long time now
since I was in the public eye.

Six years. I know.
You retired.

After the accident.

I was quite badly hurt.

And, of course, my wife was...

I know.
I'm sorry.

Still, I might be able to help
you in what you want to know.

I was in Causton
for seven years.

That's one of the reasons
I decided to settle here.

But I'd rather you didn't
mention the name of the house.

I don't like people coming here.

Well, the public, you know.

Whatever you say.

You don't mind if I tape it,
though -- just for myself?

No, no.

Now, is everyone ready?
They'll be here any minute.

That's right, Alex.
I want all the glasses in lines.

Good.

Oh, Ray.
That smells good.

Thank you.

I don't know how you can
go through with this.

- So soon af--
- Miss him, do you?

Peter Drinkwater.

Not particularly.

Nor do I.

Nor does anyone.

But if you are missing him,

here's something
to remember him by.

This was his.

Here they are.

One, two, three and...

Mrs. Furman?

Yes.

As head of the Midsomer Mallow
committee,

I'd like to welcome you
and your fellow judges

to Midsomer Mallow.

As you can see,
we've arranged perfect weather

for your visit
to our perfect village.

This is Joyce Barnaby,
one of our readers.

How do you do?

- Frank Mannion.
- How do you do?

- And Samantha Johnstone.
- How do you do?

I'm afraid
it's a very tight schedule.

We only have an hour and a half.

Excuse me.

What is it, Mrs. Devere?

I thought I saw someone
take something.

Marcus.

Hmm?

Oh, yes.

Yes.
Sorry.

Uh, I'd like to introduce
Gordon Brierly,

who has lived here
and been our vet for 11 years.

It'll be his job to give you
the full historical tour.

From the third century A.D.
to the present day.

You're actually standing

on what we believe was once
a Saxon burial ground.

Oh.

Mummy?
You all right?

I thought I saw someone.

Alex, did someone just take
a bottle?

No, Mrs. Devere.

That's very strange.

Oh, well,
we'd better get on with it.

I thought we'd start
with the medieval almshouses,

small parts of which actually
date back to the 14th century.

Ah. Looks as if the judges
have already arrived.

See?

Are we going to join the tour?

No, no, no.

I've seen enough of this
village, if you want the truth.

We'll wait till they get back.

Thank you very much
for talking to me.

I enjoyed it.

I like the idea of your book.

- We should talk again.
- I'd like that.

Do you have a car?

No.
I'm walking into the village.

Oh.

Well, I'll come with you
if you don't mind.

I've got a bit of shopping
to do.

Sure.

There was a time
when you didn't have to lock up.

Shall we?

Actually,
I'm an actress myself.

Or at least trying to be.

You must know how difficult
it is these days.

My boyfriend, Nico, he was
the one who suggested that I --

And that brings us back
to the green,

where we started,
and also to the present day.

We have a fete here
every summer, a bonfire night,

pancake races,
and Easter egg hunts.

Midsomer Mallow
isn't just a village.

It's a community.

And in conclusion,

I have to say
we certainly find it perfect.

- Bravo.

Well said.

Are you looking for someone?

I'm not sure.

Well, you must be hungry.

Stivvy starving
after all that walking.

We have homemade wine, and all
the food is locally grown.

If you'd care to step this way.

Mr. Barnaby.

Mr. Devere.

You're not, um...

I don't suppose
your investigation could wait

just a minute or two.

Well, I-I wouldn't want to
obstruct justice,

but the thing is that we're in
the middle of this competition.

So I see.

It was a committee decision
to go ahead.

But we were rather hoping

that no one would actually
mention the, um, the murder.

You think it'll spoil
your chances?

Well, absolutely.

Don't worry, Mr. Devere.

We are here
in an unofficial capacity.

One of the judges is my wife.

Mrs. Barnaby. Of course.

And I haven't said a word.

Oh, well, that's all right,
then.

Come and have a sausage roll.

Good afternoon, your honor.

Did you find Midsomer Mallow
guilty or not guilty?

Tom.

How is it?

Terrible.

- Can we go somewhere quieter?
- What?

The music is so loud.

Fl In an English country garden fl

You're not serving beer,
I suppose, mate.

No.
It's homemade wine.

Oh, forget it.

It was nice to meet you, Cully.

And you.

I'm meeting my parents
for a drink.

Do you want to join us?

No.
Thank you all the same.

These village events
aren't for me.

Bye-bye, then.

I can't believe it.

Rosemary Furman hates
the countryside.

She lives in London,

and as far as I can make out,
she never leaves it.

You mean she edits Country
Matters from the heart of Soho.

Exactly!

She and Frank Mannion
are at each other's throats

the whole time.

He can't stand her.

Here's Cully.

Your mother's just been
giving me an insider's view

of the judging panel.

The only decent one
is Samantha Johnstone.

I think I'd better go
and rescue her.

Did you see him?

Yeah.
He's nice.

You were right about the house.
It's creepy.

Are you all right, Samantha?

No.

No, I'm not all right.

I've just seen someone in...

In the street?

Um, can you get me another
of those, please?

Would you like to come
and meet Tom?

No, no.
I'm all right.

That lady over there --
She wants another drink.

Hello.

I have always been
a very big fan

of your program, Mr. Mannion.

Oh, please, make that Frank.

Do you have a garden?

Yes.

Nothing grand.

Just a little patch
out the back.

That's all you need.

Oh, thank you so much.

But...
But...

God, that's disgusting!
What is it?

Elderberry and apricot.

Let's go back to the hotel.
I'm dying here.

Not soon enough, my dear.

Oi.

You all right, darling?

Yes.
I'm -- I'm fine.

I'm glad you're here.

I think it's fun, Daddy.
I bet we're going to win.

Is she all right?

Another glass of wine,
they'll have to carry her out.

I've never seen anyone --

Dad. Mummy?

Bella.

- Oh, God!
- Let me through, please.

Police.

Stand back, sir.
Give her some air.

How is she?

Still breathing. She must have
had some sort of attack.

Someone help me!

Someone do something!

I'll need to run a few tests,

but I'll bet your bottom dollar
it's cyanide.

Rat poison or something.

Uh, you see the skin?

Abnormally pink.

Her red cells
have been oxygenated.

Classic.

Cyanide.
That's got no taste, has it?

Right.

And one in four people
can't smell it either.

Not a lot of people know that.

Bung it in a glass of wine.
She wouldn't have known a thing.

So that's her.

Now, the other woman.

Bella Devere.

Yeah. She was lucky.
She only took a sip.

Where is she?

The doctor sent her home.
There's not much he can do.

Plenty of water and rest.

That's about it.

There -- There was
this little boy

carrying a-a glass of wine
on a tray.

And -- And she took it.

She drank it.

Were there any other glasses
on the tray?

What?

How many glasses
was the little boy carrying?

J-Just the one.

S-She took it and drank it
and...

Laura.

Leave me alone.

Just leave me alone!

Was it you?

Did you poison her?

You've gone mad, haven't you?

Just go away.

Are you all right?

Tom, the editor.
Rosemary Furman.

Dead, I'm afraid.

Cyanide poisoning.
Would you believe it?

Oh.
But why?

Who would want to kill her?

She might not have been
the target.

Crowded tent.

Bottles and glasses everywhere.

- Was anyone else poisoned?
- Don't know.

A lot of the glasses were broken
when Bella fell over.

Look.
I've got a lot of work to do.

You go on home.

I'll catch up with you later,
all right?

I didn't see anything.

I had nothing to do
with the wine, you see.

I was looking after the food.

Do you know who opened the wine?

Uh, Mr. and Mrs. Devere.

And Caroline.

She saw him, you know.

Mrs. Devere.

Just after the judges arrived
and that lady introduced us.

That's when she saw someone --
in the tent.

Doing what?

Taking one of the bottles.

That's what she said.

I didn't see who it was.

I'm not even sure
if it was a man.

The sun was in my eyes,
and it was...dark in the tent.

And he was taking a bottle.

He had a bottle in his hand.

Well, perhaps he wasn't taking
a bottle

but rather putting
a new bottle in with the others.

I don't know.

Did anyone else come over to the
table while you were serving?

I was there.

And a little boy, Alex.

He came over with an empty
glass, and Mummy filled it.

Was this before

or after you took a drink
yourself, Mrs. Devere?

I don't know.
I don't remember.

I don't think
this is the right time

to be asking my wife questions,
Chief Inspector.

No. They have to.
They have to find who it was!

Because...Don't you see?

It was me
they were trying to kill.

Biscuit?

I didn't kill him.

Peter Drinkwater.

I know that's
what you're thinking.

I wanted to.

I saw him leaving here.

That must have been
when he stole my credit card.

I know what the two of you
were up to.

And I think it's disgusting.

You're old enough
to be his mother.

But...the trousers.

The ones that I found.

The blood came out
of the surgery.

Cat's blood.

And the gold chain.

I bought that.

I know what you think of me,
Laura.

It's how you've always thought
of me.

But...just for a little while,

I wanted you to believe
I had killed him.

I wanted you to think
I'd had the strength

to shove a fork into him.

It amused me.

Made me feel good.

Gordon.

You disgust me.

I want you to move out
of my house.

I don't want to see you again.
I don't want to know you.

God, Troy.
What a mess.

Poisoning in front
of our very eyes,

and we still don't know
who it is who was meant to die.

You think this is connected with
the death of Peter Drinkwater?

It's got to be.

Unless it was an attack
on the whole village.

To spoil their chances in
the Perfect Village competition.

I don't think so.

So, here we have Marcus and
Bella Devere, serving the wine.

Bella opens a fresh bottle.

Which must have been tampered
with by whoever it was she saw.

Except you know
what bothers me, Troy?

The judges had just arrived.

The big four, including Joyce.

This is the moment
they'd been waiting for.

So why look into the tent
at all?

According to your wife,

Samantha Johnstone asked for
a glass of wine

just before it happened.

You spoke to Joyce?

A few questions.
Yeah.

Mm.

Samantha Johnstone
asked for wine.

Yeah.
She was here.

There was a 12-year-old boy.
Alex James.

He went and got it.

And according
to Caroline Devere,

he was only carrying
a single glass.

Laura Brierly says the same.

Could it be
that the poisoned wine

was intended for
Samantha Johnstone?

Perhaps.

But nobody even knew
she was coming.

She was a replacement.

So why would anyone decide
to kill her?

Where is she now?

Hello.
Reception?

I wonder if you could help me.

I need a telephone number.

It's in Gloucestershire.

Uh, one moment.

Mr. Mannion.

No. I'm sorry.
No autographs now.

I'm from Causton Police,
Mr. Mannion.

- Are you leaving?
- Yes, I am leaving.

They try to bore us to death
in the first village.

And when that doesn't work, they
try to poison us in the next.

Well, I've had enough.

Have you seen
Samantha Johnstone?

No, I have not.

She's in Room 200,
opposite mine.

Police. Is that your passkey?

Thank you.

Damn.

I think we are a little late.

Dead?

- She was stabbed.
- But...

Dad, what's going on?

I need you to think
very carefully, Joyce.

There is somebody extremely
dangerous in Midsomer Mallow.

First Peter Drinkwater.

Then what could have been
a mass poisoning.

And now this.

You think
they're all connected?

I think the first death prompted
the next two.

But I don't quite know how.
That's why I need your help.

You were the last person
to speak to Samantha Johnstone

in the tent, Mrs. Barnaby.

What did she say?

I don't know.

The music was so loud,
I can't be sure I heard.

She was worried about something.

Something or somebody
she'd seen.

She said, "I've just seen
someone in the street."

That's what it sounded like.

In the street.

But there wasn't anybody
in the street except Cully.

And that man.

- Edward Allardice?
- Was he on the green?

He didn't go anywhere
near the tent.

He came in to do some shopping.

Wouldn't the village shop
have been closed?

Did you get to know
Samantha Johnstone at all?

Yes. Yes, I did.
I had a drink with her.

We talked for about an hour.

Did she tell you anything?

Yes. She --
She was an unhappy person.

Clinically depressed.

In fact, she hinted that
she'd tried to commit suicide.

She was committed for a while.

She spent six months
at a place called Sebdon Manor.

Did she say where that was?

-It wasn't in Gloucestershire?
- Yes.

She tried to make a phone call
to Gloucestershire

just before she died.

Just one last question, Joyce.

Did any of the other judges know

about the murder
of Peter Drinkwater?

Oh, yes.
We all did.

Frank Mannion had read about it
in the paper.

He made a joke about it
on the bus.

Right.

Where are you going?

Gloucestershire.
Don't wait up.

Marcus.

How are you feeling, old girl?

I'm tired.

I've brought you something.

It's been quite a day.

Yes.

Are you sure
you're feeling better?

Yes.

I'm all right now.

You gave me quite a scare,
Bella, my dear.

I love you.

You know that.

Marcus.

Everything's going to be
all right.

Name, please.

Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby.

- I called you earlier.
- Okay.

- Mr. Barnaby?
- Yes.

I'm Dr. Sellers.
Mark Sellers.

I head up the psychiatric staff.

How can I help you?

I want to ask you about one
of your former patients.

Samantha Johnstone.

Do you have some ID?

Oh, yes.
Thank you.

Detective Sergeant Tory.

Troy.

Oh, yes.

I have mild dyslexia.

Samantha Johnstone.
Yes. I remember her.

The writer.

Come in.

You have to understand
that Sebdon Manor

is not a psychiatric hospital
in the strictest sense.

Very few of our patients
have actually been sectioned.

Those that have
are usually very close

to the end of their terms
of sentence.

They see us more
as a sort of halfway house.

Had Samantha Johnstone
been sectioned?

No.
She committed herself.

An attempted suicide.

Yes.
This was 22 years ago.

Marital breakdown,
lack of self-esteem

leading to alcoholism
and problems with dogs.

Drugs.

How long was she here?

18 months.

She arrived just before I did,

which is probably why
I remember her.

Did she get to know anyone?

Was there anyone
she was particularly close to?

It's funny you should ask that.

I was just about to say.
Yes.

She formed
quite a close friendship

with one of our most notorious
residents.

Annabel Weston.

I don't suppose the name
means anything to you.

Please.
Go on.

The Weston case was very famous
in its time.

1955.

Annabel was 7 years old then.

I don't want you to go.

Why do you have to go?

Come on, Anna.
We talked about this.

Her parents were
wealthy and hardworking.

The father was an accountant.

They had a big place
near the coast.

A charmed life.

Probably what made it all
so shocking.

You'll be all right
with Mrs. Foster.

No, I won't.

Oh, you naughty child.
You go...

It was one night in June.

Nobody knows
exactly what happened

except the child must have had
some sort of argument

with the housekeeper,
a Mrs. Foster.

Anyway, the child went down
into the kitchen.

She pulled out a knife...

...and, well, she butchered
the housekeeper.

Stabbed her seven
or eight times.

No!

No!

No!

No!

Then she went to bed.

She was asleep
when her parents got back.

Annabel?

Oh.

Thank God.

The knife was being
held by one of her stuffed toys.

There was never any question
that she'd done it.

She admitted as much
to her parents.

She didn't like the housekeeper,
so she killed her.

She had no idea
she'd done anything wrong.

And they sent her here?

Oh, no.

She went to various
secure institutions

before going to Broadmoor.

She was there
for over 10 years.

She certainly wasn't a threat
to anyone anymore,

so she eventually ended up here.

And Samantha Johnstone?

More or less took her
under her wing.

There was something of the child
still about Annabel.

Both her parents were dead
by this point.

Samantha became something of
a surrogate here in the Retreat.

I'm sorry?

What?

What did you call this place?

The Retreat.

"Sebdon Manor" sounds so prim
and Victorian.

Everyone here calls it
the Retreat.

We like to think of ourselves
as a shelter,

one step away
from the real world.

We've got to get back
to Midsomer Mallow.

- Annabel Weston?
- She's there, Troy.

Cully told me as much.

Homicidal maniac running about
with a pitchfork.

And for once Cully was right.

Where are you going?

Oh. Greyfriars House.
I left my tape recorder there.

See you later.

Rosemary Furman's death
was a mistake.

The poisoned wine was aimed
at Samantha Johnstone.

Because Annabel Weston knew her.

Because Samantha Johnstone knew
Annabel Weston.

Think about it.

A murder has taken place a few
days before in Midsomer Mallow.

And no ordinary murder.

It's psychotic --
pitchfork through the chest.

Annabel Weston is living
in the village.

Under another name.
Right.

And the one person
who knows her secret

is suddenly right there
in front of her.

Timing couldn't have been worse.

One word from Samantha
and Annabel is exposed.

So Samantha has to die.

Hello?

Is anyone there?

Hello?

Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Who are you?

Cully.

I'm sorry.

This is Cully Barnaby.

The girl I told you about.

Oh, I-I'm sorry, Cully.

I didn't mean to frighten you,
but I've been so afraid.

I-I thought I heard someone,
and I picked up the knife.

It's all right, my dear.

It's ever since we were burgled.

No, no. I-I'm sorry.
I shouldn't be here.

I just came to collect my tape.

Cully...let me introduce you.

This is Jane Rochelle.

My wife.

Mr. Barnaby.

Yes.
Come in.

I'm afraid Bella isn't here.

You know it's her
we've come to see?

Oh, yes.

Bella.

Short for Annabel.

Yes.

You knew she'd killed
Peter Drinkwater.

I suppose I'd better tell you
the truth.

It won't make
a jot of difference now

to Bella or to me.

Yes, I knew.

She told you?

She didn't have to.

I knew at once.

As soon as I heard
he'd been found dead.

You knew who she was
when you married her.

Annabel Weston.
Yes.

Yes, I knew.

She answered an ad
that I put in a newspaper.

Lonely hearts.

And I fell in love with her.

Just like that.

Of course, I soon found out
the truth about her.

It couldn't be avoided.

She was still
under supervision then.

Reporting to the Home Office.

But it didn't matter to me what
she'd done when she was a child.

I loved her.

So it was her driving your car
that day at Windy/whistle Farm.

Yes.

Had to be one or the other,
Troy.

The daughter or the mother.

You knew I was lying.

Yes.

Jack?

What?

Peter Drinkwater was killed
shortly before 3:00.

The killer was seen leaving
the farm a few minutes later

by Ray Dorset,
who was on his way to Causton.

You tried to pretend it was you,
didn't you?

But I knew you were lying.

It just took me a little while
to work out why.

You certain it was Ray
driving the van?

Yes. He had the window down.
He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

Ray Dorset was driving
to Causton

on the same side of the road
as the farm entrance.

So the driving seat would be
on the other side,

away from the farm.

There was no way
you'd be able to see

if the window was open
or closed --

or for that matter
if the driver was smoking.

Yes. I was having to think
on my feet rather.

And there was something else
you said.

Troy asked you
what time you left.

It would be about half 2:00.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off
in the afternoon.

And that's when I went.

It was half past 2:00.

Yes.

That business about Bella
going upstairs for her nap.

You weren't asking her
to corroborate your story.

You were purposefully trying to
give her an alibi.

She was asleep.
You were in the car.

You were trying to protect her.

Yes.

But why did she kill him?

What was the point?

She thought he was going to
marry Caroline.

She couldn't let it happen.

Very devoted mother.

See all the photographs, Troy?

Unfortunately, she carried
her devotion a little too far.

She poisoned Rosemary Furman
and herself.

Yes.

Bella had no idea
that Samantha Johnstone

had been chosen to be a judge.

If she had, she'd never have
shown her face on the green.

Must have been a great shock

when she saw Samantha
getting off the bus.

- Mrs. Furman?
- Yes.

As head of the Midsomer Mallow
committee,

I'd like to welcome you
and your fellow judges

to Midsomer Mallow.

As you can see,
we've arranged. .

Excuse me.

What is it, Mrs. Devere?

I thought I saw someone
take something.

She was improvising.

All she knew was that she had to
get away from Samantha

before she was recognized.

Before Samantha actually
greeted her by her real name.

I didn't know anything
about Samantha Johnstone.

I didn't know
it was going to happen.

I believe you.

But Bella had decided then and
there that Samantha had to die.

Can you get me another one,
please?

It would have been easy
for Bella to go home

and doctor a bottle of wine
with rat poison

while the judges were being
shown 'round the village.

Then all she had to do was wait.

That lady over there --
She wants another drink.

While the little boy
carried the glass to Samantha,

Bella poured the poisoned bottle
into the other glasses.

And then -- And then she took
a little sip herself.

And that was the clever bit.

Bella.

When she fell,
she smashed all the glasses.

Yes.

She made it look as if she might
have been the intended victim

and at the same time destroyed
the evidence.

All those broken glasses around,

we'd never have been able to
tell how much poison there was

or where the poison came from.

But then Rosemary Furman drank
the wine.

Thank you so much.

But...
But...

God, that's disgusting!
What is it?

Her death was an accident.

So later on that same afternoon,

Bella caught up with Samantha
in the hotel.

I didn't know, you know.

She was lying upstairs in bed.

I thought she was asleep.

But you knew
she'd killed Peter Drinkwater.

You must have known she was
responsible for the poison.

What were you going to do?

Stand around and let her
wipe out the entire village?

No.

I'd already decided
what I was going to do.

And I've done it.

Where is Bella?

She's upstairs.

You said she wasn't here.

She isn't.

Troy.

You'd have put her
back in the bin, wouldn't you?

I couldn't let you do that.

It would have destroyed her.

I gave her sleeping pills
and, um...

then a pillow, you know.

Quite painless.

It was better for her.

So much better.

I only wanted her to be happy.

Oh, it was horrible, Dad.

Jane Rochelle wasn't killed
in that accident.

She was just very badly burned.

I told you.
She was so beautiful.

And there they were,
the two of them,

living in that house,
hiding from the world.

Sad.

Do you know,
for a while I was certain

that he was responsible
for the deaths.

Why?

Well, actually,
it was your fault.

You said that
just before she died,

Samantha Johnstone told you

she'd seen someone she knew
'in the street."

Well, that's what I thought
she said, yes.

But Edward Allardice was
the only person in the street.

That is true.

But what she actually said was
that she'd seen someone she knew

from the Retreat.

Meaning Sebdon Manor.

Well, the music was very loud,
Tom,

and I did say I wasn't sure.

- You still misled me.
- Tom!

I relied on you, Joyce.

Nobody's perfect.

It's probably just as well.