All language subtitles for George Gently - 02x04 - Gently through the mill.720p.x264.bia.English

Come on. Come on.

Got you. I got you again.

I got you. I got ya!

You're dead! No, I'm not!

Aargh!

Yeah, right. I told you, didn't I?

It's dangerous round here!
Oi! Where d'you think you're going?!

Very dangerous indeed!

Draper, don't chase 'em up there!

Told you, lads.

Should've kept away, shouldn't you?!

Ah, Detective Sergeant Bacchus,
I didn't realise you cared!

I don't. Special occasion, is it?

Wedding anniversary.

Ten out of ten for remembering.

It was yesterday. Five out of ten.

Ah, shut your head, will you, man.
Pass us the bin. John!

Put 'em down.
We've got a body out at Rinton.

"Let's go with Labour", that's their
slogan. "Let's go with Labour".

But does anybody have any idea
where they're going?

Come on...

It's touch and go, they reckon.

The general election on Thursday.

Ah. Yep.

Neck-and-neck, and we had a 9.000
majority last time round. "We"?

You don't vote Labour, do you, sir?

Would that be a problem?

You like paying taxes, do you?

No, not really.

Oh. Have you signed
that form for us?

What form? Sir, I keep...

The seminar down in London
at the weekend.

Oh, yeah. "Detectives and the criminal underworld
- a modern approach to policing in the 1960s."

Yeah. Yeah. I know the man who's running
the course. Yeah? You're not going.

Perhaps the African can tell us!

I'm a British subject now, Mr Mundy,

with a British passport
and these people know me.

Yeah, tell them about the war.

Where was he
when you were risking your life, eh?

Sssh!

Unlike some, Mr Mundy,
I live in County Durham.

I work in County Durham!

And I've built up my businesses
in County Durham.

And I'm not a London barrister

who only turns up at the weekends
when he feels like riding to hounds!

That was a cheap dig,
that, wasn't it, sir?

Up and down the country the Tories
are about to be rejected.

Rubbish.
Excuse me. Men like you, Mr Mundy.

Men who've had their chance
for 13 years and have failed.

Clear the roads, please.
You're blocking the thoroughfare.

There are cars coming. Thirteen
years of bone-headed Tory misrule!

Nonsense! Can we clear the road, please? We're
trying to get through. Oh, yes. Sorry. Apologies.

You see? Even the police want
to get rid of you! LAUGHTER

On the pavements, everyone.

Oh...

You better get to work, Jed.

Off you go. I wouldn't care
but he's a Rhodesian.

You don't want a bigmouth
like him winning, do you?

I don't vote in elections,
Sergeant, so it's all the same to me.

Morning.

Round the back, sir.

Morning.

Ah.

He's everywhere!

Chief Inspector Gently.

This is Detective Sergeant Bacchus.

Henry Blythely, the miller.

He's in here. Follow me.

I had just finished working,

and these lads come in

and get chased up here.

Patrick Fuller, mill manager. Yes?

Yeah.

Climbs the ladder, secures the rope,

rope round his neck...

Off he goes.
Why have they called us here?

Because somebody might've hoisted
him up there, Sergeant.

Mr Fuller a friend of yours, was he?

We were close...

for a good many years.

Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to offend with the...

Try and be a bit
more thoughtful, eh?

I reckon about eight to ten hours.

Do you want to take a bet?

No I don't. You're too good at it.

The rope's cut in deep, sir. Yeah.

Too thin for the job.

No sign of a suicide note?

No. Just them.
Must be an office somewhere.

He was just the loveliest boss.
And... and...

and I've never known
anyone die before!

Ssh. It's all right. Here you go.

Look, take that.

Bit too thoughtful, maybe.

Yeah? No. Invoice.

Can I help? Well, we're just wondering if Mr
Fuller's left a note or a letter, or anything.

Guv...

Looks like a robbery, that.

Can you have a look at this, please?

Don't touch anything.

There's meant to be about
50, 60, #70 in there!

So you handle the petty cash?

Me? No, I never go in there.

I mean, I'm only 17.

So how do you know how much was in there?
Well, Patrick asks me to keep a log.

Was the office locked this morning?
I only came up with you, didn't I?

Cos when I just arrived
they'd just found Patrick. So, no...

I mean, I've got the keys.

Get forensics out.

Can I use your telephone?

D'you want to see me keys? OK.

They're in here somewhere!

My wife's very upset.

She a friend of the deceased as well?
We were all friends here. It's a family firm.

Who's the next of kin?

Brenda, his wife.

Ah. I'll need an address, please.

Mr Blythely, how many people have
a key to Patrick Fuller's office?

Patrick himself, Julie...

Draper, myself.

Why Draper?

He's the foreman.
No, I don't know why either.

Last foreman retired four months
back, Patrick chose Draper.

Best man for the job, he says.
Cos I queried it.

I mean, the man can barely
bother to be lazy.

Did he bring him in from outside?

No, no. He's worked here for years,
if you can call it work.

Thank you.

Mr Draper. Can you gather everybody
in the canteen, please?

Aye, I'm just doing this.

Now?

Sir, yes, sir!

Look at me. Making an exhibition
of myself. That's all right.

It's very upsetting.

Brenda.

Patrick Fuller's wife...
that's her address.

I think one of you
should go straight away.

Thank you. If we could have
you in the canteen now, please.

OK?

D'you wanna chuck us your hankie?

Forensics are on their way, sir.

And an ambulance.

Canteen please, Julie.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking,
sir?

There's no suicide note. I don't know what Patrick
Fuller's doing here in the middle of the night.

It's not his job to mix
the flour, though, is it?

My first question is this.

Have any of you been up to the office
this morning, Patrick Fuller's office?

Yes, Julie, I know you have.

I ask this because the office was open. As was
the safe and the petty cash box, which is empty.

I shall need all of you on nightshift
to remain behind for questioning.

And in order to exclude you all,
I shall want your fingerprints taken.

You calling us tea leaves?

Why don't you shut up, Draper,
you're a moron.

Somebody's dead, man. Oh, you
managed to come to work, have you?

Had permission to help the campaign this
morning. Permission to be his bum boy.

Shut your stupid face, Draper.

The pair of you!
There's a dead man upstairs.

Show some respect.

Be a bit more thoughtful.

Why is there an ambulance outside?

Mr Pershore!
Mr Pershore. Thank God you've come.

Chief Inspector Gently, sir.

Police? May I ask
why you're here, Mr Pershore?

Why I'm here?

I own the mill.

Hanged? Some time last night.

What a bloody waste of a life.

You're assuming suicide, then?

Well... what else?

Can you think of any reason why
Patrick Fuller would kill himself?

No. Just happened to
be passing, did you?

No, I try to call in everyday to
check things are running smoothly.

Though you're up to
your eyes in the election.

Business is business. People depend
on the mill for their livelihoods.

I believe...
Yeah, I've heard the speech.

Maybe you didn't trust Mr Fuller to run the
place properly? I trusted Patrick implicitly.

Sir, we've found something.

Don't go anywhere, will you?

Democracy will just have to muddle
along without you for a while.

I'm trying to tame him.

It's over here, sir.
It's an earring.

Got a handkerchief, Taylor? Sir.

Thank you.

And then there was this, sir.
Torn clothing, maybe?

That could match
Fuller's jacket, that.

Get forensics on it, will you?
Yes, sir.

What're you thinking, guv?

Not sure.

Still suicide, but with petty cash
missing and that and this.

Oh, somebody has got to go and
break the bad news to the wife.

I'm afraid it's you. Thank you.

Oh, and when I get back, sir,
I want to talk about that seminar.

Yeah, I read the bumf.
It's a recruitment seminar.

You looking for another job, John?

We need to talk soon.

Fair enough.

Mrs Fuller? Yes.

I'm Detective Sergeant Bacchus.

May I come in?

Patrick's dead, isn't he?

Um, Mrs Fuller, it's...

It seems possible that your
husband took his own life.

Yes. I'm sorry.

Did you already know about this? No.

It'll all come out, won't it?

My life...

picked over.

Laughed at. Gossiped about.

What will all come out?

Patrick's... sordid...

behaviour.

He had another woman.

If you can call
a 17-year-old girl a woman.

17?

Oh, I expect you noticed her.

Men seem to.

Julie?

You don't think Patrick hired her for her
secretarial skills, do you? Or her conversation?

To call her as thick as two short
planks wouldn't be fair on the planks.

How do you know about this?

Oh, I have a sense of smell.

Galore by Five Star.

Her perfume.

All over him,
when he'd been working late.

And did it make him feel better?

Did it make him feel
like a real man, again?

I don't think so.

I'm not sure I'm with you here, Mrs Fuller.
Make him feel better about what?

He'd been utterly humiliated. By who?

By that dreadful man that we all
have to be so grateful to, don't we?

Who pays us next to nothing
for the business and then...

Look, look at this!

He screws Patrick into the
ground over the mill,

then he gives him a car!

How kind! How superior!

How very socialist of him!

Are you saying that your husband used to
own the mill? It was the family firm.

Sold it to Pershore a year ago.

I say sold. It was daylight robbery.

But Mr Man Of The People,
he kept Patrick on, you see.

As an employee.

Working him all hours,
introducing workers' rights

and trade union-negotiated rest
breaks, but what about our rights?

He stole his pride,

and now he's given him
an early grave.

He was a changed man.

Oh, I lost my husband
a long time ago.

Obviously the mill's non-operational until the police
say otherwise, but if you wouldn't mind staying here

until they have all they need. You will,
of course, be paid for a full day's work.

May I also say I know lots of you have known
and worked for Patrick for many years...

The foreman not interested
in what the owner has to say?

He's paying us to sit and drink tea.
That's all I need to hear.

Can't buy my vote, though.

Calls himself a socialist. If this was Cheltenham
he'd stand as a Tory. It's power he wants.

You don't seem very upset
by Patrick Fuller's death.

Crying like a baby inside.

Mr Pershore says can he have a word?

How long have you known
Mr Pershore, Jed?

Few months.

He's the best man I've ever met.

When I first met him
I was on the floor.

He's picked us up
and give us a new start.

Like he'll do with the whole
town when he wins the seat.

When did you last see Patrick?

Um, it was...
It was yesterday afternoon.

Patrick, you're early. Go away.

What's wrong? What's happened?
I said go away! Are you deaf?

Patrick!

GO AWAY!

'Did he behave like that
very often?'

More and more, since he lost
the mill to Pershore.

And why did
your husband sell the mill?

No, what you should be asking is why
he didn't sell it a long time ago!

Stubborn pride. Losing money?

Year after year.

He was borrowing just to see it get
further and further into debt.

I had to borrow it from my mother.

I had to lie to my mother!

And then up steps Mr Pershore.

Our saviour.

Our knight in shining armour.
Sorry, I can't...

Don't worry about it, Julie, it was going to the
cleaners anyway. I'm so sorry. I'm so useless.

Julie, it's fine.

Thank you.

She was very fond of her boss.
We all were.

Except Sam Draper.

Though he had more reason
to be than most.

Yes.

So why did Patrick Fuller
promote a man like Sam Draper?

Oh, we all make mistakes.

Is that what your young
friend has against him?

My young friend?

Yeah. Jed Jimpson?

Well, Jed would have made
a better foreman, but...

not my decision. You employ
a manager, you let him manage.

Would being overlooked have made Jed
angry with Patrick Fuller? Not at all.

Jed has eyes on a bigger prize.

The bright lights of London.
A career in politics.

Ah. Another one who can't wait to shake
off the North East? Your sergeant?

Oh, yeah.

Well, I can see what Jed gets from
helping you with your campaign,

but what does he get from
working in a flour mill?

Well, Jed needs some stability
in his life.

He needs...

Well, he needs a father.
That's you, is it?

Yes, in a way.

Where's his real father?

Dead. Six or seven months ago.

Dead how? Liver failure.

Alcoholic?

Jed doesn't talk about it and
I didn't know the man, but...

he was devastated.

Jed has real potential.

He has ideas.

Concrete ideas,
not university ideas.

Ways to help people.

With a bit of money from me,
he turned an old workshop

into a place where the young lads could congregate,
instead of getting into trouble on street corners.

Practical outcomes, you see.

That's what politics is about.

Real leadership. And Jed
will be a real leader someday.

So, what did make Patrick
Fuller choose Sam Draper?

I don't know.

See, when we arrived this morning,
the safe in Patrick Fuller's office

was open,
but it hadn't been broken into.

Now, we think that some
petty cash had been taken.

So obviously I need to find out
if anything else is missing.

You are presumably familiar
with the contents of this safe?

Yes, of course.
Are you a key holder? Yes.

Who else has a key to the safe?

Only Patrick Fuller.

Something wrong? No.

Something missing? Er, no...

Uh, well...

There's an insurance policy,

but that's probably held at my solicitor's.
There's the petty cash, of course.

It should have contained...

...#68, 18 shillings and four pence.

When did you last see
Patrick Fuller alive?

Yesterday afternoon.

I called him over to see me
at my election headquarters.

I'd just had a visit
from the firm's auditors.

There were holes in the accounts.

♪1.500?!

But where's it gone?

This is what audits are for,
Patrick.

There'll be an explanation.

There always is.

Yes?

Yes, I'm coming now.

I'll go through everything.
I'll track it down. I promise.

I should've stayed with him
and sorted it out.

But I was busy.

Yesterday was a frantic day.

Did it occur to you at the time
he might've taken the money?

No. Absolutely not. Not then.

And now?

Why didn't you tell
me this straightaway?

Because I don't want to
believe this about Patrick.

Now, look, there's something
else I need to tell you.

I came to find Patrick
at the mill last night.

What time was this? About 11.

Patrick wasn't here,
so I let myself into the office.

I'd had time to think.

I'd remembered there'd been an accounting
error at one of my other companies.

If the same thing had happened here, I could
call Patrick, tell him to stop worrying.

So, er...

opened the safe, but the
accounts books weren't there.

He must have taken them home.

What I did find, though,
was an envelope containing #500.

And no indication
of what it was for.

Where's this #500 now?

In my safe at my campaign office.
I need to see it.

Morning, boys.
Morning, Mr Pershore. Carry on.

Oh, that's it! Off to work.

Hello, everybody.
Morning, Mr Pershore.

Thursday's winner.

Yes! Thanks, Jed.

Jed's enthusiasm is
sometimes a little bit...

Chemically induced?

I'm helping the lad onto the straight
and narrow, one step at a time.

Will I be getting your vote, Mr Gently?
No, but then neither will anybody else.

The #500, please.

These holes in the accounts.

How long had it been going on?

♪1.500 over three months...

an initial withdrawal of 500,

then a month later, 1.000.

And Patrick Fuller never came
back yesterday with an explanation?

No.

Chief Inspector, I have many
enemies in the local Tory press.

They will make mischief out
of this if it becomes public.

A free press is part of a democracy.

Would you tell me the serial numbers
on the first and last notes, please?

D64-741271.

D64-741371.

Thank you.

Sequential.

Now put the notes back
in the safe, please.

So, when you found the #500, did you
telephone Patrick Fuller and ask him

why there was such a large amount
of unexplained cash in your safe?

No.

Why not?

Mr Gently, I didn't know
any more what to think.

Holes in the accounts, Patrick looking as if he
had all the cares of the world on his shoulders.

I decided not to pursue the matter until
after polling day. If there was going to be...

a scandal of some kind,

I wanted to protect my campaign.

And if that's contributed to what's happened,
then I'm partly responsible for a friend's death.

Did you lock up when you left?

Yes.

Did...

Did Patrick... leave a note?

No. Not that we know of.

Is there anything else you'd like to tell
me about Patrick Fuller, Mr Pershore?

No.

So, Fuller's got woman trouble,

money trouble, and he's behaving
like a man under pressure. Yeah.

What's the connection?

Did she think he was stealing money?
He wouldn't've told her if he was.

Feeling enough pressure to hang
himself? She seemed to think so,

thought his behaviour
was really strange.

Look, there's a store room
with a woman's lost earring in it.

A piece of Fuller's jacket snagged
on a nail on the wall.

He was knocking Julie off in that store room.
We've got to talk to her.

Yeah, all right. Right.

I'll bring a couple of sheets in case
she wants to blow her nose again.

So, was Pershore
trying to bribe you then?

Couldn't actually tell. I think
he's a bit too intelligent for that.

Get away, man, the man's as bent
as a dog's hind leg.

What more do you need to know?

He takes the mill off
Fuller for tuppence ha'penny and

then he swans around Durham talking
about "let's change the world".

What does he want to change the world for? He's
already making a fortune out of it, thank you.

And he wears puff juice.

Beg your pardon?

Scent. It's urgh... Don't tell
me you couldn't smell it on him.

It's like an Egyptian knocking shop.

Sorry, I just...

I just don't like him, he's...

Oh, sir.

Please can I go on that course? No.

Why? Because you don't need to.

I can summarise it
for you in two sentences.

"A modern approach
to policing crime in London".

One, find out where the villains
drink. Two, ask them for a bribe.

You're just a cynic, guv. Am I?

I'll go over your head on this.
You what?

I really want this.

There is no future for me here.
See you at the mill.

Better late than never.

Pathologist said Fuller was
on the job shortly before he died,

and forensics have found fibres
on the contents of the safe.

Possibly from work gloves.
Where've you been?

Talking to people
about Geoffrey Pershore.

Right. And? His parents owned a lot
of farmland in Southern Rhodesia,

but he was educated here.
Fought in the war.

So did Hitler. Hitler didn't
fly a spitfire for the RAF.

Right, well, you know, then he's a war hero,
let's give him a medal. We did.

Since then he's settled here and built
up a string of successful businesses.

As you do, if you're a socialist.

Where's Julie? She's waiting for us.

As you can see, the mill's re-opened.
Except the place where we found the body.

Give me a minute. And tell the
Blythelys I want to talk to them.

This your office?
See why you're a detective.

These yours?

I'm just more and more impressed.

Show some respect.

A man lost his life here.

The man who gave you your job.

The job that nobody else seems to think you
deserve. Explain that to me. Best man available.

Well, you don't do anything,
Mr Draper.

You're not a natural leader, are you?

Army disagreed.

I was a sergeant in the Engineers.

Not one of the few, I know, like
Pershore. I was one of the many.

Didn't come back to rich parents
or university.

I came back to nowt, Mr Gently.

Except broken promises.

So I'll take what I can get.

Do you think Patrick Fuller
killed himself, Mr Draper?

You should be
talking to Jed Jimpson.

He was here with Blythely
last night.

Rowing with Fuller yesterday. About what?
The machines were full tilt, I couldn't hear.

It was threatening. It was nasty.

Why didn't you mention this before?

You never asked us.

Too busy calling me lazy.

Right.

Tell us about Patrick Fuller, Julie.

He was a Capricorn, the same as me.

I think that's why we got on.

What are you, Sergeant Bacchus?

I've got you a present.

Oh! Um... No, no, no, I didn't...

Ah, thank you. That's...

I didn't mean his star sign, Julie,
you know, I was talking about...

I went out with this bloke once,
right, and I said to him,

I asked, "What star sign are you?"
And you never guess what he said.

Herpes.

Made us laugh for weeks.

Herpes isn't even a star sign. No.

Er, Julie. Erm...

Patrick Fuller.
You were close, weren't you?

I'm gonna miss him.

He was so lovely to work for.

Ever so kind and gentle and very patient, cos I'm
still learning the job and me spelling's shocking.

I goes, "How come there's a P in pneumatic
then?" And Patrick says, "The P is silent,

"same as in swimming."

Which just confused us even more,
but me dad explained when I got

home, and he didn't mean that
sort of P. It was a joke.

Tell us about working late
with Mr Fuller.

Half past six sometimes. Yeah.

Was that in the morning, was it?

In the morning?

No, he wasn't that bad!

Those are nice earrings, Julie. And the
perfume you wear, is that Galore by any chance?

Yeah. And did Patrick buy you these?

The earrings and the perfume?
What's going on?

You and the boss, Julie!
Were you having it off with him?! That's...

I'm going to tell my dad
you said that.

And copper or no copper he's going
to come down here and thump you.

Julie, erm...

Your earring...

..was found in the store room.
My earrings are here.

And I have pierced ears.

This is a clip-on one.

And right next to it...

This thread from
Patrick Fuller's jacket.

Why are you showing them to me?

Julie, we know that sex took place,
right.

Now we're going to ask you
to do an examination.

You know, a test.

It won't take them long to
examine me, Sergeant Bacchus.

I'm not really a Capricorn.

I'm a Virgo.

Well, um, er... I don't think we need
bother with that then, Julie.

John, why don't you take Julie home?

Yeah, I'll take you home.

We started work 9.30 in the evening
and worked through till morning.

Mr Pershore's doubled our output.

Where were you working between
midnight and 1.30? I'll show ya.

I'm sorry, I have to go. I'm a lollipop lady.
The school's are out soon.

I won't keep you long.

How well did you know
Patrick Fuller, Mrs Blythely?

Patrick and Henry were
best friends, really.

Henry worked here for Patrick's dad.

I'm sorry, I've really got to go.
I can't miss work.

I'm afraid I gonna have to
ask you to be late for work.

Is this where you were working? Aye.

Well, we know Patrick Fuller
was dead by 1.30, so...

where were you between
midnight and then?

We were working between here
and where we feed the grain in.

Both of you? Well...

What?

What? I had an early start on the
campaign next day so I left early.

I see. And went where?

Home. Anybody corroborate that?

I live on my own since my dad died.

All right. Well, around that time,
did you see or perhaps hear anything?

Nothing, no.

Sorry, cos when all this is going...

I see. Thank you.

How about you, Mrs Blythely?

I'm in bed by 10.30, 11, so...

Is it true you had an argument
with Patrick Fuller yesterday?

Who told you that, Sam Draper?

Is it true?

Yeah.

Argument about what?

The way he did his job.
Or failed to do it.

You thought you could do it better?

Anybody could do it better.

So I was telling Patrick Fuller, if he didn't
get rid of him, I'd get Geoff to do it. Geoff?

Sorry. Mr Pershore. Sorry.

Anyway, Patrick Fuller
was blind about Draper.

Like talking to a brick wall.

Sorry, but he wasn't
all that bright.

Did you say that
to Patrick Fuller's face? Yeah.

I told him he didn't have the brains to run a business,
and that's how come he lost the mill, and Geoff...

Mr Pershore got it.
And what was his response?

He told me to get back to my work.

My place. Get back to my station.

Which is presumably
how the mill used to be run.

And why it went bust. It's very
easy to speak ill of the dead.

He wasn't dead when I said it.

What do you think, Mr Blythely?

He was your friend
and used to be your employer.

I'll be honest. Patrick and
I were close for a lot of years,

but Jed's right. He had no idea
how to run a business.

Mr Pershore is streets ahead of him.

Were you close friends at the time
of his death? How do you mean?

I mean if he had been conducting an affair,
would he have confided in you?

The thing is,
since Mr Pershore rescued the mill,

there's been a lot more work on
my shoulders, and on Patrick's.

We didn't see so much of each other
outside of work as we used to.

I'm sorry. Did you just say
"yes" or "no", Mr Blythely?

I didn't know anything
about any affair.

And you?

Wouldn't have thought
he had it in him.

And what about you, Mrs Blythely?

Affair with who? Julie?

Patrick Fuller in bed with Julie?

That takes some imagining,
that does.

I'm sorry, I have to go.

Sir, the earring. The bloke who made it was
in Birmingham when we were doing the rounds.

He was buying silver,
would you believe?

A jeweller buying silver?

Knock me down with a feather.

Go on.

So I left a message with him
and he's just called in.

He said somebody fitting
Patrick Fuller's description

bought a pair of mother of pearl earrings like this,
But he remembers because Fuller brought them back

to get them changed
from pierced to clip-on ones.

Typical husband, doesn't realise his wife's ears
aren't pierced. He bought another item to go with them.

Well, they didn't cost a thousand quid
and Julie's got pierced ears, sir.

I wonder if Mrs Blythely does.

It shouldn't have happened,

but it did.

My husband's best friend.

But I loved Patrick.

Very much.

And your husband?

Had you stopped loving him?

Henry is a lot older than me.

He is comfort and companionship...

What about his wife?

Sat in that semi-detached morgue
of a house going

quietly crackers all day because
she thinks he's knocking Julie off?

Nice of you to send me to break
the news to her, by the way.

Well, I could hardly
tell her myself, could I?

I'm not proud of my behaviour,
Sergeant.

But love is where it falls. Right.

I must remember that one.

Mrs Blythely, what
happened on the night...?

Please, don't tell Henry.

I mean,
what purpose would it serve now?

I can't promise that, Mrs Blythely.

What happened on the night
that Patrick died?

If I knew anything about that night
I'd have come forward. I swear.

Didn't you swear to love,
honour and obey your husband?

Tell us what you do know.

Henry was working.

When Henry works you know you
won't see him, he's so diligent.

Patrick would be waiting.

We were always so happy in those
moments, but maybe there was

a sadness in him I didn't see...
that I didn't

want to see because he was
so lovely. He was so loving.

People think...

that passion and love are just
for the young, for the beautiful.

And I'd said how wonderful Julie
looked and she did.

She looked so young
and pretty in those earrings.

And the scent she wore!

And Patrick bought them for me.

Tell me about his sadness.

What do lovers say when they know they'll never
be together as they should be, as man and wife?

Because for me to leave Henry
and him to leave Brenda...

Well, it was never going to happen. So... I mean,
he didn't kill himself because of me, did he?

There was no reason to.

As far as you are aware, did anybody
at the mill guess about the affair?

We always had to be careful.
I mean...

We tried to avoid each other during the day because
we couldn't be near each other without touching.

People might see.

Who, Mrs Blythely? Who saw?

Nobody. No-one saw.

I mean...

There was a time when we thought
that Sam Draper might have seen us.

I thought for a minute he had...

He didn't see anything.

When was this?

Three, four months ago.

But we were lucky and we were
more careful after that.

Please.

If this has to come out,

can I tell Henry myself? Please.
I'm afraid that won't be possible.

I need you here for the time being.

Draper must have caught them together in that
office. He must have. He was blackmailing Fuller.

And that is how
he got the foreman's job.

Probably.

But Blythely was in the mill for
the whole night when Fuller died.

And we're assuming he didn't know about
his wife's affair with his best friend.

Maybe he caught them at it
that night? Go and get Draper.

Mr Draper?

No sign of Draper but, look, I think
he was planning on leaving town.

You left it too late.

What?

Sir, the serial numbers are in the same
sequence as the ones that Pershore showed you.

So, Fuller was paying Draper off.
Mm.

Have a look. Anything on him?
Just some betting slips, sir.

Sir, looks nasty that.

Hasn't been in the water long.

Entered the river where?

Well, we found some blood up
on the corner there, sir.

Somebody hit him,

he fell and hit his head, maybe?

Jed Jimpson, sir?

Possibly. Get him brought in anyway.

We need to speak to Mr Blythely.

First you lose your boss,
then you lose you foreman.

Where were you for the last
couple of hours, Mr Blythely?

Here.

Asleep.
Can anybody corroborate that?

As you know, I work nights.

My wife works days.

And can you think of anybody
who might want Mr Draper dead?

Where would you like me to start?

Give us a couple of minutes will you.

Why? Go on.

Well, you could start with the reason
Draper was blackmailing Patrick Fuller?

Blackmailing? Yes. Any idea why?

How would I?

Over his affair
with your wife, perhaps?

Or are you going to go on
pretending you didn't know?

Of course I knew.

I knew almost from
the day it started.

Did Patrick Fuller tell you? No.

I didn't need anybody to
tell me, Chief Inspector.

I could smell it on her.

What? From the perfume he gave her?
No, Mr Gently.

I could smell love on her.

Happiness.

He made her happy.

But you lost your wife
and your best friend.

I've lost them both
for good now, haven't I?

Two deaths. A murder and suicide,
or two murders.

Exactly! I mean, you know, Blythely
had a clear motive to kill Fuller.

And what if Draper had decided
to blackmail Blythely as well?

"Give us your money or I'll tell everybody
that your wife's shagging your best mate".

And, bang, in he goes.
And then there's Jimpson.

He was seen rowing with Fuller and he
attacked Draper right in front of us.

Jimpson's not in the digs, sir,
or his campaign office.

That was deserted. Keep looking.

And right in the middle of all this, who have
we got? Pershore. Knight in shining armour.

Mrs Blythely, your lover was
being blackmailed by Sam Draper.

So he did see us, then.

And somebody's killed Sam Draper.

What?

Obviously it can't have
been Patrick Fuller,

which makes me wonder if there were
other secrets Sam Draper knew about.

Like what? Were there other parts of
his life that Patrick kept hidden?

Well...

There was Sunday nights, of course. I mean,
they swear to keep that secret, don't they?

Who swears to keep what secret?

The Brotherhood.

Was Patrick a Mason?

Sir, have you ever been asked
to roll your trouser leg up?

Many times. You?

Yeah. Chief Constable
asked if I was interested.

That was before I got
his daughter up the duff.

Now he hates my guts.

Stay away from them.
That's my advice.

There harmless enough, sir.
It's just... No, they're not.

They're not. They're not harmless.

Police officers should never have a sense of
conflicted loyalty. I hate secret societies, anyway.

I know one lodge in London got
as many crooks in it as coppers.

What does that tell you? Well, how are we supposed
to find out if this Mason thing means anything?

We can't just knock on the Mason door and ask
if we can come in for a cup of tea, can we?

You can if you've got a search warrant. Which
magistrate's gonna sign that? They'll all be members.

I'll find one.

Well, good luck.

Just get after Jimpson.

All right.
I'll get the lads onto it.

Do we know where Geoffrey
Pershore is, by the way?

Yeah, he's still busy setting up
the People's Republic of Durham.

Why?

When he was looking at the contents of his safe, I
felt he was expecting something else to be there.

Like what? I don't know.

What did you do with the account books
for the mill, by the way? Me? Yeah.

No. Pershore said that Fuller
took them home. Yes, so he did.

Did you go back and get them?

You didn't ask us to. D'you seriously expect
to swan off to London and do a course

on police methods when you haven't even
grasped the basics? Go and get them.

Bloody useless little...

Mary Blythely?
She's plain as a pikestaff.

That's even worse.

I could understand
the 17-year-old moron...

Yeah. Well.

Love is where it falls.

So they say. So who says?

Erm...

Mary Blythely, actually.

Sam Draper, Mrs Fuller. Who's he?

He wasn't having him as well, was he?

No, no.

He made him foreman of the mill.

He was taken from the river this
morning. Almost certainly murdered.

Murdered? We believe he was blackmailing
your husband over the affair.

Mrs Fuller, can we talk about
your husband's money problems?

That's none of my business.
You never asked about it?

Yeah.

And? It's none of my business.

So now what you going to tell me?

That he was a thief as well?

You said that your husband came home
and he went straight to his study.

Would you mind if I had a look? No.

It's through here.

Not my strong point,
debit and credit and whatnot...

Are you married, Sergeant Bacchus?

Yes.

Where's your wife right now?

At this very moment?

I dunno. Shopping,
mowing the lawn, I dunno.

Exactly.

You don't know.

None of us knows.

I used to do accountancy.
That's how I met Patrick.

He was copying them.

No, he was adjusting
and copying them.

So he was a thief as well.

We know nothing about our own lives,
Sergeant.

We live with strangers.

I'm going to have to take these.
Yes, that's fine.

Yes, the mafia of the mediocre.

Despicable men.

My husband was a Mason.

They were phoning him all the time, putting more
and more pressure on him. Pressure about what?

Well, what do you think?

I don't know. The election!

The masons are all Tories and their bete noire,
Mr Pershore, is threatening to win their seat.

So Patrick had Pershore coming from one
side and the Masons from the other,

led by that prize idiot
Mundy and his little lap dog.

Nicholas Mundy? The Tory candidate?

Yes, the one who rides to hounds and
passes himself off as a country squire.

Oh, I'm sure he'll agree
to see us, Mrs Fuller.

'Patrick had stopped going to the
lodge, so they came to see him.'

Let's continue our talk about Geoffrey
Pershore. Is there somewhere private?

And what did they want? For
goodness sake, wake up, Sergeant.

What do you think this is?

"The best man wins"?

They wanted something to
bury Geoffrey Pershore with.

And they were determined
to get it from Patrick.

I've managed to persuade your
father-in-law to spare you a few minutes.

Listen, pal. You're just the dog
that guards his door.

Don't get carried away
with yourself.

I must warn you though,
he's in a foul temper.

He's just had lunch
with his daughter.

Right.

Thanks.

Good afternoon, sir.

Thanks for letting me see you
so quickly. What do you want?

Well, two things, really.

Number one? Number one...

Could I get the constabulary's permission
to attend a training seminar in London?

It's a fascinating course, sir,
which... Granted. Number two?

Yeah, the second thing
is... a favour.

"Adjusting". What does that mean?

I think its accountancy talk
for fiddling the books.

So, what did they think that Fuller had
on Geoffrey Pershore to discredit him?

Dunno. But now he's dead.

We know he's a Mason, I think
it's important that we...

No, the masons are a dead end. Masons only trust
other Masons, they don't trust you or me. Fine.

Fine. You know best. Yes. I do.

It's odd, isn't it? Must be something
to do with 20 years as a detective.

During which time, by the way, I never
attended any seminars on modern policing.

Yeah. You've made
your point about that.

Good. So I don't need
to hear about it again? No.

Not a word. Excellent!

Geoffrey Pershore's
making a speech tonight.

I think we should go and listen.

Why?

Because we haven't found Jed
Jimpson yet. He might be there.

I can't. Why not?

Because I've got something
I need to do.

Something important. Like what?

I said I'd take the wife out.

I missed her anniversary and...

Our anniversary.

And she'll skin me alive
if I say I'm working late again.

Well. That is important, John.
So I'll go alone.

Oh... Oh, right.

Are you sure? I feel bad...

No, no, no, don't feel bad. Your
wife is your support system, John.

You go and buy her a nice dinner.
Thank you.

Hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy. I am your Conservative
candidate. I hope we can rely on your vote tomorrow.

Now, remember the slogan, a very important
slogan... "on Thursday, vote Mundy".

Ah, hello. I am your Conservative candidate.
Detective Chief Inspector Gently.

Have you got a moment?

Surely. It concerns Patrick Fuller.

Patrick Fuller... Er?

The man who hanged himself
out at Rinton Mill.

Whose house you visited last week. Ah!
I'm sorry, my mind's a sieve at the moment.

Awful business. Awful.

How's dear erm...
Mrs Fuller holding up?

Not particularly well.

So? Why did you visit him?

Well, it's courtesy.

He's a valued member of the local party -
thanking those who put in the effort.

and I had not an inkling
of what was to come, shocking.

His wife said you put him
under pressure. Mr Mundy, sir.

Yes, just a couple of minutes.

Sorry, pressure?
What sort of pressure?

That's what I'm asking you. Mr Mundy.
We really must be moving on.

No, really. I really...

Chief Inspector, would it be possible to
carry on this after the election tomorrow?

Now would be better.

Are you seriously expecting me to halt my electoral
campaign at this crucial stage, Chief Inspector?

No. I'll talk to you on Friday.

Thank you.

Hello. I'm Nicholas Mundy.
I'm your Conservative candidate.

Are you
"blue through and through"?

Now, I'll need all metal objects
watches, rings, etc. Right.

And if you could just
change into these.

OK. I'm Maurice, by the way.
Maurice Hilton.

Haven't learnt how to do that yet.

♪1.500.

4.000 quid gone where?

Oh...

This is a wonderful journey
you're embarking on.

Ready?

Yeah.

Whom have you there? Mr John Bacchus, a poor
candidate in a state of darkness, humbly soliciting

to be admitted to the mysteries
and privileges of Freemasonry.

Do you feel anything?

Yes, I do, actually.

Mr John Bacchus, are you willing
to take a solemn obligation

to keep inviolate the secrets
and mysteries of the order?

Um... Yes!

What happened?

Mr Pershore had to cancel.

He's indisposed.

Do you know a Jed Jimpson?
Yeah. Is he here?

Haven't seen him since yesterday.

OK, thank you.

Chief Inspector Gently.

We meet at last.

I'm Lisa.

Lisa Bacchus. John's wife.

I saw your photo in the paper
a while back.

I, John Bacchus, of my own free will
do solemnly promise and swear.

Under no less a penalty than that of having
my throat cut across from ear to ear.

Under no less a penalty than that of having
my throat cut across from ear to ear.

That I will not reveal the secrets or mysteries
belonging to the Free and Accepted Masons.

That I will never reveal the secrets or
mysteries belonging to Free and Accepted Masons.

He's not with you tonight then? No.

When he rings to say he's working
late I automatically blame it on you.

Sorry.

Sometimes I say to him, "John, why don't you
just go and marry Mr Gently, you might as well."

He's married to you.

Aye, but he prefers your company.

No, that's OK. You're nice.

Can I tell you something?

Yeah.

I don't really like policemen.

They're all I've grown up with.

Any party, any gathering,

even my wedding. Policemen.

Standing in a huddle, laughing at jokes
the rest of us don't get. Leaving us out.

I watched my mother cope with it and said, "Right,
definitely not marrying a policeman." But...

But you got pregnant.

Is that what he told you?
Yeah, I got pregnant,

but we were gonna
get married anyway.

I love him.

Is that what he told you?
No, no, no, I got that bit wrong.

John keeps his private life private.
Keeps a lot private.

Guess what I found out this week?

Votes Tory.

Not you, then?
No, I want Pershore to win.

I saw him talking in the market
last weekend. I think he's great.

Do you trust him?

Yeah.

I better go... rescue me mother.

She's babysitting. Nice meeting you,
Mr Gently. George. George.

George? Am I losing my husband?

He's not working late tonight,
is he? I don't know where he is.

John Bacchus, you have been brought
into the wisdom and light of Masonry.

Well done.

Yes, sir. John!

Sir!

If I have one more tearful lunch
with my daughter on account of you,

then I shall remove your balls
and post them to you. Understood?

Say "yes" and smile.

Yes. Thank you. Understood. Edgar.

Edgar. And if you ever call me Edgar outside of this
lodge, then I shall mince them before I post them to you.

Say thank you. Thank you, Edgar. Now,
go and meet your new brothers. Hello.

So, John, there's "trouble at mill!"

Do tell. Obviously nothing you
say goes outside these walls.

But, um, Pershore's got both tits
in the mangle, I hear? Eh, Maurice?

What do you do, Maurice?

Maurice does as he's told.
Don't you, Maurice?

I have to go.
Have another drink, Maurice.

Brother John's on our
side, aren't you?

100% there, Nicholas. I have to go.

Was it something I said?

Maurice has erm... divided loyalties.
I suspect he has grounds

to shut down the mill but
I think he's a Liberal at heart.

The thing is, Maurice may not
look like much, but he could

bury Pershore for us and save
the seat tomorrow. Just like that.

Maurice, you all right?

Yes. Absolutely fine. Thanks.

So what do you make of us then?

What do I make of you?

I think you're all a bunch of crooks.

So what is it you do for
a living then, Maurice?

We don't ask each other, you know.

Right.

Answer the question.

That has absolutely no authority
inside these walls.

Fine.

Let's go down the station then.

I'm not obliged to say anything without the advice
of a solicitor. Then let's go down to the bar,

must be about 20 of them in there.

What is it they want
from you, Maurice?

What is it they wanted from Patrick Fuller? What is
it that you know that can bury Pershore like that?

How can you close the mill down?

Is it something to do with flour?

Are you a health inspector?

So, what's it to be then?

Here, now, in the bar?

Or in the morning in my office?

Fine. What time?

Oh! Nice evening?

Ah, you know.

Work.

Working with Mr Gently?

Yeah.

Sort of...

The dogs are barking tonight.

Think I've got
another verruca coming.

How's Leanne?

Fast asleep.

You're up late.

Where have you been, John?
I've told you. You didn't actually.

Before you lie,
I saw George tonight.

George? My... Your boss.

Lovely man, by the way.

Can tell why you talk
about him so much now.

Asked him where you were.

He didn't know.

Think he didn't want to lie.

So, who is she?

Oh, come on, Lis, I'm not...

I'm really tired. I'm tired as well.

So start telling the truth
or we can call it a day.

I was with your dad, all right!

I was at the Mason's.

You're not a Mason.

Well, I am now, why don't you go and telephone
your dad and ask him, OK? No, it's not OK.

Why are we married, John?

The truth.

Why did you marry me?

Because...

because your dad said he'd ruin my career
if I didn't do the decent thing by you.

And I wanted to.

I wanted to do the right thing for
you, both of you. You and Leanne.

You haven't used
the word "love", John.

Lisa...

I don't think I even
know who you are, really.

We live with strangers.

What?

A woman said to me today that
we live with strangers.

Well, I can't live
with a stranger, John.

It doesn't have to be like that.

Goodnight.

You have a very sweet wife.

She thinks you're nice and all.

Where were you, by the way?

Masonic lodge. What?

I joined the Masons, sir.

Why don't you ask me
why I joined the Masons?

I think I'm starting to get
the picture. No, sir. I...

You're not getting the picture
at all. He's in Room 4, Sarge.

Who is? All right.

Who's in room 4?! I'm telling you,
if you give me a bloody minute!

His name is Maurice Hilton.

He's the man that went with Mundy to see Patrick Fuller
shortly before he died. He's a food safety inspector

and I found him. I found him
by joining the Masons, sir.

♪4.000 was withdrawn from the Rinton
Mill bank account six months ago.

And?

Vanished into thin air.

Mr Hilton, you know how this goes.

I intend to investigate every contact in
connection between yourself and Patrick Fuller.

And Geoffrey Pershore.

You should also know the fraud squad
will be looking into your bank accounts.

I'm sorry, may I
get a glass of water?

Not at the moment, no.

This was done with the best
intentions on everyone's part.

My team carried out it's annual
inspection of the mill.

The place was decrepit.

Dirty in places, if not filthy.

Rat droppings.

I told Patrick Fuller
I'd have to issue a closure order.

But the mill didn't close, did it?

It stayed open.

Well, it was a fellow Mason. Closing
the mill would've ruined him.

Yeah. So you did the decent
thing to help your brother Mason?

No, no, it wasn't like that.

Geoffrey Pershore
had just bought the mill.

He was promising to
modernise the place.

Saying, "Why make all these people
redundant when we could create jobs?"

Put things right... and he did.

I mean, he's totally
transformed the mill.

The place is a model
of cleanliness now.

How much did Geoffrey Pershore pay you
to forget about the closure notice?

Nowt.

I was doing it for the greater good.

I'm a public servant.

So... if I was to look back
over your bank records.

I wouldn't find a payment for #4.000.

What did you buy, Maurice?
New house?

What happened, Maurice?

The date that the 4.000 went missing
from the bank account was five months

after Geoffrey Pershore
had bought and modernised the mill.

So what did he pay you for?

There was an outbreak
of food poisoning.

In Rinton.

19 people were hospitalised.

I traced the source
back to the mill.

Look, it was before Pershore's
reforms had kicked in.

I should have made him
stop production when I...

I didn't. I remember this now.

Yeah, you blamed a Chinese chippy
for the outbreak, didn't you?

Yeah, it deserved to be closed.

I found half a goat
in the fridge once.

Scape goat, was it?

So the mill was never
publicly blamed for the outbreak?

No. So what happened to the 19 people who were
never told the truth about how they became ill?

They all recovered.

All except one of them.

And who was that?

A man in his forties. Six months
later died of complications.

Liver failure. Look,
no-one could have foreseen that.

And that was when you were paid
the #4.000 for your silence?

Yes?
And Pershore got the closure notice.

What did he do with it?

Said he'd keep it
under lock and key.

He said it was his insurance policy.

In case I ever decided
to reveal the truth.

And Nicholas Mundy? I stupidly told him
half the story one night at the lodge bar.

And ever since he's been pressurising
you to get the story in the papers. Aye.

This man who died. What's his name?

How can they just print lies, Geoff?

That scumbag Mundy and
his friends in high places.

They were never going to let me win,
Jed. But it's rubbish anyway.

What's Fuller's suicide
got to do with anything?

It's not Fuller, Jed, it's Draper.
They'll get me for Draper.

They won't, I won't let them.

You'll keep your mouth shut, Jed.
You have a future.

Ah, we've been looking for you, Jed.

Salutations, gentlemen.
Pour our guests a drink, Jed.

None for me, thank you.

Thank you.

Not going to the count?

I'll head down in a while.

How's it going? Still optimistic.

What can I do for you,
Chief Inspector?

I'm afraid I've come to arrest you.

Doing the Tories
dirty work for them?

Jed. On what charge?

Bribing Maurice Hilton.

Who's Maurice Hilton?
Will you shut your face, please?

Maurice Hilton
is a food inspector, Jed.

He should have closed down
Rinton Mill but he didn't.

Mr Pershore gave him #4.000.

Nonsense. Look, Hilton's coughed,
you might as well do the same.

Otherwise we're gonna be here all night.
What's your evidence, Mr Gently?

Maurice Hilton's confession.

His word against mine, then.

You didn't do it! He's had smears
against him all his life, man.

There's always someone
wanting money off him. I wonder why.

Because he won't kowtow
to the system.

He wants to change it.

Really? Where were you Tuesday morning, then?
He was with me all day out on the knocker.

Sam Draper.

What about him?

Sam Draper was blackmailing Patrick Fuller
over his affair with Mary Blythely.

Fuller paid him off with bank notes in the
same sequence as the ones you showed me.

Well, if that's true, it's terrible.

What else was missing
from the safe, Mr Pershore?

Apart from the petty cash. Nothing.

Nothing except what you called
your insurance policy.

Hilton's closure notice on the mill.

The document that you bought
from Hilton for #4.000. What?

It's not true, Jed. The document
Draper took from the safe when

he went looking for the blackmail
money that Fuller promised him.

Which Fuller never handed over, of course, because
he decided to hang himself and have done with it all.

So are you telling me that Draper didn't come
and offer you that document to buy back?

You said...
Jed. What? "You said" what?

Did you kill Sam Draper, Mr Pershore?

Of course I didn't.

Well, I think you did. I can establish a very firm
motive and you're unwilling to provide an alibi.

Never stand up in a court of law.

But it'll be the end of your
political ambitions, wouldn't it?

Ah. What's wrong, Jed?

Hero's got feet of clay, has he?

You said...

you told me that it was...

Told you what, Jed?

He told me that the money was to stop
Draper from hurting Henry Blythely.

What money?

What's going on, Geoff?

Oh, here he is. Your bum boy. Come
to help him with his seat, have you?

Keep out of it, Jed. It's finished.
Draper's no longer in my employ.

Clear off, Draper.

You. Don't tell me to clear off.

Mr Fancy Pants! You remember,
I'll come back whenever I like.

I've got your nuts in my hand!

Figure of speech, like, bum boy.

Not literally... that's your job.

Jed! No!

Geoff...

Geoff... I think he's dead.

Quick.

What happened next, Jed?

Geoff drove me home and...

Straight home?

Or did you stop off somewhere else?

We stopped outside Draper's house
and Geoff went in for a while.

You went in to get
the closure notice.

And you destroyed it.

I should've burnt it a year ago.

Some insurance policy.

But I did it. I killed Draper.

Geoff's innocent.

Is he?

Are you going to let him do this,
Mr Pershore?

Go on thinking you're innocent.

There was a local outbreak of food
poisoning, Jed, about a year ago.

Do you remember it? Vaguely.

Did your father contract it?

He was an alcoholic.

He contracted everything.

He was useless.

This was a particularly
severe outbreak.

Source was traced to the mill.

A man died of complications
from it about six months ago.

He died of liver failure.

Me dad?

I wanted to make it up to you, Jed.

I made one stupid mistake.

In the public interest.

I wanted to keep the mill going
while I cleaned it up.

I made a mistake.

You talk about fairness?

You talk about truth
and honesty and changing the world?!

You're a crook,
just another crooked businessman!

I tried to give you
your dad back, Jed.

Was I wrong?

Oi!

I don't... need... a dad.

Jed.

Is he worth hanging for?

I should be getting to the count.

How do you do good in life?

Do you know?

How, without taking chances?

You mean making compromises?

I didn't compromise,
I took a chance.

And not for me...

for the good of the mill
and its workers.

And you're going to go on telling
yourself that, are you? Till I die.

The Returning Officer
for the constituency of Rinton.

Have I missed it?

Any minute now. The reported count
for each candidate was as follows.

Andrew James Carr, 3.109 votes.
APPLAUSE

Nicholas Charles Reginald Mundy,
29.647 votes.

Geoffrey Pershore, 27.116 votes.

And that Nicholas Charles Reginald Mundy
is therefore duly elected to serve.

What d'you think Jimpson will get?

Manslaughter. 3, 4 years.

Generous of you to let Pershore
come to the count.

I'd have locked him
up straight away.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

I'm beginning to see
why you don't vote.

Lies everywhere you look.

It's the lies you tell yourself
that kill you.

Why London?

Career move.

Chief Constable put a note
on my desk, by the way.

My objections to your going for the
Met have been over-ruled, apparently.

Have you worked out yet why he's so
keen for you to go on this seminar?

Yep. He's hoping I won't come back.

And will you?

How do you resign from the Masons,
by the way?

You don't. You know you've
left the Masons when they find you.

Great.

Good luck, Sergeant Bacchus.

Thank you, guv.

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