Original subtitles

Thank you.

Oh, my god!

That looks amazing! Wow!

Thank you.

Cheers. Cheers.

Big pants?

Big pants.

Sexy. Mother's advice.

Mother knows best. Uh-huh.

"Never go into bike sheds with boys,

"don't scrimp on moisturiser."

Oh yeah, and, "beware of tabloid newspaper editors who buy you lobster.

"They always want something."

This time mother Pullman was wrong.

This editor wants to give you something.

A coup. A case. A career-enhancing collar.

No, thanks. I'm on a sleaze-free diet.

What if I had evidence of a terrible crime?

Then go to the regular police.

It's old. It's cold. It's right up your street.

Aha!

Wow! That's kitty Campbell!

It is her restaurant.

She looks great!

Do you want me to introduce you? No!

Kitty!

Christopher!

Kitty, this is superintendent Sandra Pullman.

Hello!

Delightful suit, darling. Thank you.

I hear congratulations are in order.

Oh, you! Don't go spoiling my surprise!

My lips are sealed. I won't chat.

I've got a table of well-wishers in need of a charm assault.

Tatanya! Another bottle of champagne, please.

On the house.

What surprise?

Birthday honours list.

Dame kitty.

Really?

You know, when she started cooking on TV in the '60s,

she was part of a husband and wife double act.

Kitty and bertie. Cooking with the Campbells.

Yeah. My mum and dad used to watch them every single week.

They were heartbroken when bertie died.

What if I were to tell you that I had incontrovertible proof

that poor little innocent debutante kitty Campbell...

Murdered her husband?

♪ It's all right it's ok

♪ doesn't really matter if you're old and grey

♪ it's all right I say it's ok

♪ listen to what I say

♪ it's all right, doing fine

♪ doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine

♪ it's all right I say it's ok

♪ we're gettin' to the end of the day. ♪

Of course it's not murder!

How could it be murder?

I live with a man who eats and sleeps murder.

"I know murder, you don't," that's what I wanted to say to her.

Aaah! Bugger.

She had one of those earrings through her lip

and another through her tongue.

I mean, that can't be hygienic, can it?

Yes!

I didn't sign her petition.

But I did buy chicken instead of lamb.

The potatoes are cooked,

the salad is dressed,

just let the roast rest. "Rest"?

You should always let it rest.

The heat of cooking, give it time to calm down.

I'm starving. How long?

20 minutes. 20 minutes?! What we gonna do for 20 minutes?

No.

Ah, I never could read your writing.

Very spidery scrawl.

Is that two tablespoons or two teaspoons?

'..Kitty Campbell, who was awarded the title of dame kitty Campbell.'

I know it's me who gets to call herself dame,

but I hope that other women will see this as a positive message.

It's not just a triumph for me, but for all women.

Chickens having heart attacks.

It's not right, is it?

No.

Makes you wonder what we're doing to nature.

Hmm.

It's on the table.

Oh! Brian!

It's not as though it's never happened before.

How long were we married?

Eight years. Yeah.

Never happened in all that time, did it?

It happened on our wedding night!

Yeah, but I was paralytic.

Yeah. Well, I'm not drunk now, am I?

It's no big deal. Not to you, it's not.

This chicken's cold!

Esther, this chicken's cold,

and the peas are...

Esther!

Esther!

She's a British institution!

How could the news of the screws do this?

It's the knighthood.

The bigger you get, the more jealous nutters crawl out of the woodwork.

Don't worry, mate. It might never happen.

It didn't. Kitty Campbell?

Sandra has it on good authority that kitty Campbell killed her husband.

Old bertie? Exactly.

Yeah, she's a witch!

A bland old school ma'am

with about as much culinary creativity as a whelk.

Whoops! Daddy bear didn't get honey on his porridge this morning?

Nah, well, her books are so rigid, like instruction manuals.

The ice queen.

I'd give her one. Jack!

Sorry, it has to be said.

That woman single-handedly ruined this country's palate with her banal recipes.

She's a very attractive lady.

She's 65 if she's a day!

And?

Oh... right, sorry.

Er..."thinking man's crumpet." She has class.

Be like sleeping with your nanny! I would...

..If I could.

Ok, this is the cid report.

They had to investigate his death -

he was a young man in the public eye who died of a heart attack -

but they weren't very thorough and took the coroner's report at face value,

I suppose because she was a TV personality -

a beautiful, tragic society widow with a very important family.

But they couldn't wait to close the file. You can't wait to re-open it!

World-famous celebrity chef, who wouldn't?

McConnell's a creep.

Don't let him use you to validate his story.

McConnell is irrelevant, leave him to me.

What we've got to do is find out who his mystery source is.

We'll go and see McConnell. Jack, you can check out bertie's medical records. Brian can work his magic...

Where is Brian?

Trying Brian again?

I rung the office, it's still on the answerphone.

Home? No reply.

That's very odd. He's never late!

Ah, kitty Campbell!

He'll be impressed. He'll never have heard of her!

Mobile rings everybody's heard of...

Talk of the devil!

Brian, have you ever heard of kitty Campbell?

He hasn't even heard of abba.

I showed him a picture and everything. Nothing.

We worked out that the last time he went to the pictures was 1959.

Ben hur.

Ok, ok, now calm down.

Just try and calm down.

What did the surgeon say?

"Surgeon"?

That's good, that's normal!

I'm coming over, just hang on!

What's happened? Drop me at a cab rank.

We've managed to re-attach the ulna collateral ligament,

but everything has to be kept super-still to re-grow some tissue.

And you still have some mild concussion.

Do you want to go home?

Oh, yes, please.

If I let you go home, it's total bed rest, understood?

You'll be in charge, mr Lane.

You're the boss.

She's not to get up and do anything.

Is that a deal?

Brian!

Brian, I'm all right!

I'm all right!

Ah!

Don't you resent having to come here?

Play these little games?

Don't let it get to you, you never know what these people will turn up.

They dig in some very mucky places.

Sad, debasing... And extremely insulting to women!

Nice tits, though.

Look, of course not.

Impersonating a prison officer is not a stunt, it's an issue of security.

Tell them we're claiming public interest immunity.

Inspector Pullman!

Mr McConnell! This is Gerry Stanley.

Whose life are you intending to ruin this week?

So, have you looked at the original cid files?

I'm doing nothing until you give us the identity of your source. We've already had this conversation.

Poor old bertie!

He used to really crack me up.

"I think a chilly chablis would complement excellently well, don't you, pumpkin?"

"Do let it breathe, pickle."

Nah, it was a tragedy when he died.

Kitty Campbell was all right when it was two of them but... She murdered him.

Post-mortem says that bertie died of a heart attack. Natural causes.

See? You have looked at the files.

I have a very good source,

very close to both of them at the time of bertie's death.

He says that kitty murdered her husband to avoid a scandal.

To avoid one? What?!

Claims to have the murder weapon.

Who is this source?

Why don't you do some digging for me first? Huh!

You can access a different flavour of information, then we can pool our resources,

I get my splash, you get your collar. Oi!

She just asked you a question! All right, Gerry.

You might want to put a muzzle on him.

He just remembers the good old days -

when the police had more power than the tabloids.

You must be very old!

So, this is the modern approach to police and media relations, is it?

They bully us and we go and do their dirty work for them!

I'm afraid Tom Gill isn't in today.

Can someone else from the newsdesk be of any help?

No, it's ok.

Could you make sure that his assistant knows

that superintendent Pullman came by

to talk about the kitty Campbell story?

She taps keys

I'll mail that to the newsdesk. Lovely job!

How is that gonna get us the name of the source?

These places are all ears and totally bent.

There are people working here who make their real money tipping off rival papers.

So, when the rumour of kitty Campbell starts rolling,

then McConnell will start to panic.

How come you know so much about the tabloids?

'News of the world newsdesk. Can I help you?'

guess what I've just heard!

Brian: Lift... Oh, god, I'm sorry!

Don't touch it, don't...

Brian, why don't you go and get some water and something to read?

Case files, you mean?

No, for Esther.

Oh, right.

Yeah, yeah, aye.

Esther, put your good arm around my shoulder. Come on.

One, two, three... Up! That's it now.

Just pop this there.

Now, let me slip this pillow under your knees.

Gently does it. There we are.

There now. That better? Oh!

Oh, much! Stop you sliding forward.

Right!

Got you a bottle of water, a Jigsaw, Sunday's papers and your knitting.

Knitting? Yeah.

And... da-da!

High-pitched whistle

I rescued them years ago from the equipment skip.

You grab that one.

Hah hah! Hang on.

Receiver whines Esther Esther from Brian Brian. Over.

Press that big button on the handset when you wanna speak.

'Hello, Brian.' Yes!

Oi, oi! I said no onions. Some of us have got a social life, y'know?

Yeah, I am still here. Yeah.

Ok, fire away.

Oh, really?

That's great. Yeah, thanks a lot. Bye-bye. Hmm.

You know, if mcconnel's source was good, he wouldn't bother with us.

He'd just print it. He's got doubts. Major doubts.

Ever heard of a barrister called sir barnaby fitzharris qc?

No. Kitty's daddy.

Very posh and very rich.

So, if she did knock off old bertie, it wasn't for his wedge.

No news from the bonking times then?

Ah, the jungle drums are drumming. Only a matter of time.

Phone rings a-ha!

Yes - mcconnel.

Men are so predictable. Don't you find it boring?

Mr mcconnel.

Oh, so now he wants to talk.

Lavender oil. Mix a few drops with water, spray it on a pillow, and...

What's all this? Ice cream.

When I had me tonsils out in hospital it was all I could manage.

She's bed-ridden!

Her moods, her diet, her constitution - it all changes!

Better get her some prunes, then.

Put this lot back. Eh?

And these. And that. I've got to feed her!

You give her this stuff, you'll kill her. Have you seen the salt content?

She'll have arteries like cast iron.

Sensitive issues, my arse. Kitty Campbell could be innocent of anything and everything,

and the red tops will still crucify her for sport, and sales.

Accusing a national celebrity of murdering her nearest and dearest

is a major bit of shit-stirring.

I bet you anything you like this is all about money and power.

We'll meet the source and he'll be a fat, fading businessman who's just jealous!

Jealous because she made a fortune without the help of a man.

You reckon? Yeah. Fat, fading, resentful...

Have I got salad in my teeth? No.

..Impotent, woman-hating, sexist...

He's working onstage.

Ms Pullman, mr standing.

Allow me to introduce the one and only... Binky Baxter.

Enchante!

Being a personal assistant isn't everybody's cup of tea,

but you obviously enjoyed it. It was more glamorous than being an air hostess.

Even with my legs, that wasn't about to happen.

Personal assistant to mr and mrs Campbell.

Full on-screen credit, she insisted. So, you and kitty were close?

Oh, yes! She loved me then.

She called me her favourite fairy.

Put me in charge of everything.

She even got me to water down bertie's scotch,

make sure he wasn't plastered on set. He was a drinker, then?

Steaming, morning, noon and night. But sweet. Never a nasty drunk.

You're making it sound like she was the boss. No question!

How did bertie feel about that? He couldn't be trusted.

Bertie, bless him, couldn't wipe his own arse without a map.

But she trusted you? She trusted me in everything.

Until she caught me with bertie's knob in my mouth.

Very nice. Oh, please.

If it wasn't my mouth, it'd be someone else's.

What did she do? She got the producer, Larry - of all people - to fire me.

How humiliating.

Jack halford? Yes, guv. Thank you.

Where do you want this? Er... All the salad stuff over there.

Just dump it over here? I'll sort them out. I know where they go.

'Esther Esther from Brian Brian, over.'

'Esther Esther from Brian Brian, over.'

what?

No, love! You're supposed to say, "what? Over."

What? Over.

Just to let you know we're back. Over and out.

What? Shall we get some dinner on? What's this stuff?

Bertie Campbell.

Postmortem, gp records and some tapes of their TV shows.

Shall we?

Binky, tell them about the bottle. Oh, yes.

She threw a big bottle of perfume at me. Givenchy eau De parfum.

A big square thing. Split my head open. Was she violent to bertie?

Not that I saw.

He was all heart, and she was all money.

She got me the sack, took temptation out of his way.

But bertie, bless him, developed a taste for cottaging.

Loved the risky stuff. This was 1965, for heaven's sake.

Men went to work in bowler hats, women still wore corsets.

No such word as gay - it was queer, bender, bummmer...

Homosexuality was illegal.

The rags would have had a field day - especially mine.

The Campbells would have been ruined.

He'd been under the same gp for years.

Then suddenly, a few months before he died he switched to dr Stephen Freud.

Treated for a variety of minor stuff... Including asthma.

The postmortem has the cause of death as cardio-respiratory failure.

Bit vague. That could be caused by just about anything,

from an electric shock to, I don't know, blocked arteries. Quite.

Toxicology's even vaguer. Yeah, well those were the days. Listen to this!

There's no mention of asthma. 'Brian Brian, from Esther Esther.'

'come in, Brian.' There's no asthma with his old doctor,

then... eight entries with the new one, where he's prescribed... 'Brian!

'This is Esther. Can you...?'

Brian Brian from Esther Esther. Come in, Brian!

Over.

Kitty Campbell hardly strikes me as a potential murderess.

Hell hath no fury... Oh, she didn't give a rat's rectum about being scorned!

She was getting enough elsewhere. She just didn't want to see bertie cook the golden goose.

Why didn't you tell the truth 40 years ago? I should have.

I regret it now, but no-one would have listened.

She was a high-class lady with the biggest show on television.

I was bourgeois little poof with an axe to grind. So why now?

Well, times have changed.

And because she built the business

on the back of murdering a confused and rather lovely man,

and she's about to get the highest honour in the land.

Tell them how she did it.

Now, it's my belief that any wife,

no matter how new she is to marriage and the job of running the home...

He's half-cut again. Pished!

..Impressive and eye-catching dinner for her husband's boss. Bertie?

Oh, rather. It was all live in those days, you know?

There was no edits or re-takes.

Get half a bottle of thi, chateauneuf du pape down his collar,

and you'll "plonk" yourself...

He's stocious. Is he? He's swaying.

Well, first let's... That's just the sets.

The golden age of television(!)

Excuse me, darling.

Just excuse me for a second.

See that look she gave him?

Curdle milk.

Now, this wonderful creation

is something I like to call saucisson supreme.

At least we now know what we're working on.

You'll go through all the evidence? See what we can do.

Good. I want to run with this on Sunday. You what?! Sunday.

I'm running with it. There's other papers sniffing. There's no proof!

I've got sworn testimony. His word. It could be fantasy.

I don't think so. You get a feel for these things.

Kitty Campbell will injunct. I'll call her Saturday night for comment.

If she wants to appeal, I've got qcs coming out of my backside.

Best place for 'em.

Revenge, remember, is a dish best served cold.

And I hope it chokes you.

Enchante.

Kitty Campbell killed bertie Campbell?

That's what the man said.

Though when I say man... Cardio-respiratory failure is what the postmortem says. Caused by?

Possibly caused by a genetic history of cardia arrhythmia.

Dicky ticker. Lots of people have arrhythmia and don't die from it.

Yep. Me. Unless something triggers or aggravates a traumatic reaction.

Like... unsuitable medication. Administered in excessive doses.

An inhaler? Why is this unsuitable?

Binky said the asthma medicine, aetheraline, is dangerous.

What we don't understand is that was prescribed by bertie's doctor. No.

Her doctor. He switched doctor -

she complained he wasn't getting proper treatment.

Right! She made him change to her doctor,

who prescribed him aetheraline, later proved clinically dangerous.

It was taken off the market two years later, inadequately tested.

There were misconduct lawsuits.

Binky said it was implicated in fatal heart attacks in asthma sufferers, and eventually banned.

But that was two years later. How could she know it was dodgy?

She couldn't. Even the doctors didn't know,

but binky says she forced him to take it every day.

Bullied him into a couple of blasts before the show.

You believe all this cos his previous doctor didn't find asthma?

I don't know what to believe. Yesterday she was a national treasure,

today she's an adulterous, scheming murderess with a pathological power complex.

Sounds about right. But how could she know aetheraline would kill him?

Binky could be trying a publicity stunt. Grab some tabloid cash.

No, Jack. He owns the biggest stage-prop company in London.

He's loaded! But she has an alibi for the night he died.

She was giving an after-dinner speech to some law students.

Yeah, but if what binky says is true,

she didn't have to be there to kill him!

What if she lied to dr Freud about bertie's asthma?

Bertie wouldn't have contradicted her.

We'd better go and see her. And say what?

Ask her if her husband's gay lover's accusations of premeditated murder are true?

This I've gotta see. Not you! No - you're on Brian-watch.

If Esther stays alone with him much longer, she'll starve.

I'll take this cheeky little armagnac.

It's got a body on it like an Irish navvy!

Kitty laughs falsely

bertie pissed again? Rat-arsed.

Darling... darling, why don't you leave that?

We need some for the pate. Normandy in a glass. Just put it down. That's right.

Right. What's for Esther's dinner? Well, I thought cheese on toast, with bacon and beans,

followed by a tub of yoghurt. Not on my watch, you're not.

Come on! In the kitchen, you.

What can you taste?

Um... basil?

It's Pesto, mr halford! Of course you can taste basil!

But what's the other flavour? Um...

A high note. Sharp.

Lifting the palate.

Lemon? Close.

Lime. Hard little Portuguese limes, sharp and fresh.

It counteracts the dull notes of the oil and the parmesan.

You haven't answered my question.

Did I murder my husband, or was my husband gay?

We're just trying to do our job and, if needs be, protect you from the media. Protect me?

I have survived the death of my husband, over 40 years in the entertainment business,

two aggressive takeover bids on my company,

breast cancer and just about every manifestation of jealousy,

both private and professional, that you could care to mention.

Do you really think I need your protection?

Maybe protection wasn't the right word.

Please don't take this personally.

How am I supposed to take it? You're suggesting I murdered my husband!

We're not suggesting. We've... Had testimony and evidence passed to us.

Binky Baxter was a grubby little parasite with ideas way, way above his station. Still is.

Why did you make bertie change his gp? Because I loved him. Because I wanted the very best for him.

I believe that's exactly what a wife should do - put her husband first.

Was bertie asthmatic when you met?

Are you married, superintendent?

No.

Somehow I'm not surprised.

How long have you been married? Forever.

And you've never done this before?

Well, I've made her soup and toast and that, when she's been sick.

Homemade soup? No. Tinned.

Dear, oh lord!

See... i don't get that.

I mean, I don't get the difference.

Why go to all that trouble of peeling and scraping and boiling and...

When you can get a perfectly good soup out of a can?

You. That's the difference. When you make homemade soup, it's individual.

You put a lot of you into it.

It's nurture, care... Love.

There you go. Very nice. Take that to the woman you love.

No, hold on!

Flowers. Eh?

For Esther!

Go on!

Right. Oh.

Gerry did it. What, a supermarket ready meal?

No, it's, er... Chicken and... Seeds.

What, he cooked it from scratch? Yeah. He's not making a terrible mess down there, is he?

No, the coroner's dead, pathologist is dead, dr Robinson dead, dr fr...

Yeah, exactly.

No, Brian's chasing pharmacology.

Do you want to speak to him?

Oh, you know?

He's got the full spec on aetheraline.

Yeah, and binky was right, it was a killer.

Mm. Yeah, hold on.

Brian!

You coming over?

Brian! ..Have you eaten?

Well, don't. No, just bring a bottle.

Red. Anything but californian, all right?

Hold on. Brian!

All right, hold your horses, I'm coming. Here. It's Jack.

Hello.

Yeah, I am.

Yeah, well, anyway, binky Baxter was telling the truth.

Yeah, aetheraline. Big scandal.

Brought down one of the big four drug companies at the time,

but - and here's the big but -

it only killed diabetics,

and acording to medical records, bertie wasn't a diabetic.

Oi! Ow! Don't pick!

(Bloody hell!) Gerry just whacked me on the hand with a bloody spoon!

What are you...?

Child...

So, if bertie wasn't a diabetic,

then aetheraline couldn't have been the cause of his heart attack.

We assume she didn't kill him. Binky was wrong. Nothing to investigate.

Unless binky's a wind-up merchant or totally deluded.

We've got no means, but we have got motive.

Bertie was about to ruin her career, her life even.

In those days, one homosexual indiscretion and it was curtains.

The BBC was as straight-laced as Mary poppins.

Motive's a start. I reckon he had more motive to murder her, bitch.

"Are you married, superintendent?" Like she's some kind of fabulous advert for total domestic...

I wonder who she was shagging. Binky said she was getting some elsewhere. How many motives do you want?

Fancy a curry? I thought I'd pop round to Brian's. Take one with us. Or a Kentucky. They'll be open.

Gerry's cooking. Oh.

We're both invited. Oh.

Does she like syllabub?

She likes yogurt.

What is it with you and yogurt?

Gerry, I'm trying to check on Campbell's alibi -

the after-dinner thing.

Everyone likes syllabub.

Who were the Yorkshire ripper's first four victims?

Wilma mccann, Emily Jackson, Irene Richardson, Patricia Atkinson.

Blue cheese, honey-mustard, French, ranch or thousand island?

What? What's Esther's favourite salad dressing?

Has she ever eaten oysters? Oysters? What's her favourite vegetable?

No idea. What's the psychoactive component of cannabis?

Tetrahydrocannabinol. And when did it become a controlled substance?

Dangerous drugs act, 28th September 1928.

I rest my case.

Oh, I adore syllabub!

Mmm! Oh, that's delicious!

Oh, here. You try some.

Mm. It's nice.

Mmm.

Mmm!

What? Nothing.

Aren't you having any? Downstairs.

What's your favourite salad dressing?

Er... blue cheese. Really?

Have you ever eaten oysters?

Day trip to calais with Jean.

Oh, Brian, I'm bored!

I know, love. I know.

I'm sorry.

I know what I've done and what I haven't done.

It's just... Sometimes I...

Most of the time, I just get tunnel vision.

Like a... like a black tube.

I never mean to hurt you...

Or neglect you.

And I see it in your face...

..And when you look at me. Trying not to get angry.

Cooking me dinners and...

Cleaning up.

I know I take you for granted.

I don't try hard enough.

And when I saw you on the kitchen floor...

..For a moment...

I'm sorry, love, I...

No. Brian...

..I'm bored sitting here.

I've got nothing to do!

The pictures, watch the pictures!

Steady, steady.

Will it go? It won't go, no. Ow!

Bloody hell!

Upend it. That way, that way.

Just a minute...

Oh, Christ!

They struggle and groan

got it? Yeah.

You got it? Nearly.

Right. One, two, three! Watch the paintwork!

Done it! Let's put it down there! Me back's gone!

Come on in. Oh, evening all!

Hello, Esther. Brian, shall we get some chairs? How are you feeling?

Little top up. Is that all right? Excellent.

One for the guv'nor! Thank you. Bon appetit.

Cheers. Cheers. Cheers.

'And season your paella to taste.

'I'd recommend four healthy pinches.'

stop. There's something wrong. What?

She was about to put sugar in the paella. Go back.

There. Play.

'And season your paella to taste...'

stop. Mm.

And she cut herself. When? Go back.

While she's chopping the onion for the paella. You didn't notice?

She covered it well, but she cut herself.

That's why she's clutching that napkin all through this bit.

You can just see a smidge of blood on the corner.

And this is mrs perfect.

Kitty Campbell doesn't make mistakes.

This was their last show. Bertie was dead by the end of the night.

Look how nervous she is. She knows that later on she's gonna off him!

Let's see that finger cut bit again.

'Remember to slice the onions...'

there. See?

God, you are good! How do you feel about men in wigs?

"The first-ever death from aetheraline

"became a famous test case,

a Devon woman in her 30s.

"The drug company settled out of court

"when they saw the evidence against them.

"The esteemed counsel for the victim's family was...

"Sir barnaby fitzharris qc."

Kitty Campbell's father.

Her old man was a big cheese, eh?

One of the highest-paid briefs of his day apparently.

So kitty could have walked straight into a legal job if she'd wanted.

Tough call, eh(?)

The glittering world of showbiz,

or a lifetime in a horse-hair wig and sensible shoes!

Aye. Brainy girls weren't cool in the sixties.

Men liked their women to be demure and ladylike

and good around the house.

How times have changed!

It's a pity, isn't it?

Um... where do they keep these files? Watford?!

Oh, terrific. You've got it.

It was not the first quarter of '66 or the last quarter of '65.

It was may '65.

Oh, I'm sorry. You're lucky I found anything. Thanks very much. We'll sort it out now.

All the evidence mr fitzharris presented to the hearing is there?

It's the whole file. A lovely job, thanks.

If I let you look at this file... As soon as we're done with it, we'll have it straight back here.

You'll not leave the building with any part of this file. Is that understood?

What if we have to show it to some expert witness?

You'll need a seizure warrant and the ruling of a high court judge.

And no pens!

Blimey, ain't half technical, innit?

Keep going.

Somewhere, there is something...

..That scared the makers of aetheraline into settling out of court.

This could be it.

Why? What is it? I don't know.

We've got to get it to a pharmacologist.

Keep your eye out.

Ah, there you are!

We're just finishing, thank you.

My... my colleague is just tidying up now.

It has been invaluable. Though it does take some reading.

He certainly got through some work, didn't he, old fitzharris?

Oh, dear, that is small. It's impossible.

Ah, that's better.

Are you the policemen?

Yeah. Are you the pharmacologist?

Yeah. If that pager goes off, i'm gone. Pick my brains now or never.

What do you make of that? I'm sorry, it's not very easy to read.

"The cardiovascular impact of beta receptor agonists." I know about this. Just from the name?

Drugs that were isolated in the mid-sixties.

Beta 2 receptors for bronchodilation, huge potential for asthma treatment.

Aetheraline was the most exciting. Didn't work. It worked too well.

Caused too much quickening of the heart. People died?

Diabetics. Asthmatic diabetics died.

The first wave of drugs didn't work out. Clinical trials weren't sufficient. It happens.

But the doses of an asthmatic inhaler wouldn't be enough to kill someone who wasn't a diabetic?

Uptake through the lungs is fast,

but an inhaler is never going to administer a large enough dose.

Could aetheraline be introduced to the body in any other way in large doses?

Pager bleeps

shit! I've got to go.

Could you get it in the body in any way in quantity? It enters the bloodstream easily.

Large doses could be administered practically any way. By intravenous or intramuscular injection.

Not so effective for lung disorders, though. Right.

But...

..You could even just eat it.

You know, like, just put it in food.

'You could eat it. Just put it in food.'

basically, she poisoned him.

'A large enough dose could kill you even if you weren't asthmatic.'

she knew he wasn't diabetic, but persisted with it.

'What were bertie's stomach contents?'

uh...

Fish, chicken, pine nuts, rice.

I'll catch you later. I just want to check something. Bye.

'A little rioja to accompany my wife's paella. Good body, this one.

'Now...

'Mmm! Lingers beautifully on the palate.

'You tuck in there. Enjoy!

'Aren't you joining me, pumpkin. Oh, no, no.

'Gorgeous, darling.

'And as bertie tucks into his paella,

'it's time for me, kitty... ..And me, bertie...

'To bid you apetito del bueno. See you next week.'

fish, chicken, rice, pine nuts, paella...

'That's one... Two...

'Three... four.'

sprinkled liberally with aetheraline.

'Kitty Campbell's office.'

hello, it's superintendent Pullman from ucos here.

I'd like to arrange a meeting with miss Campbell again.

Ralph, my lawyer. Why do you need a lawyer present?

Are lawyers not allowed to lunch?

I've been watching tapes of your old shows.

How tedious for you!

I watched the last show.

..Thank you very much.

Bertie ate paella.

You didn't join him.

No, I had dinner later with my father in chambers.

But I'm sure you'll know that, superintendent Pullman.

Cut to the chase.

I think your husband was poisoned.

The postmortem showed my husband died of natural causes. Yes,

but research since then proves conclusively

that the aetheraline bertie was taking could have fatal side-effects which at the time seemed natural.

So I gather. But as you also know, it only affected diabetics.

So, even if my concerns about dear bertie's asthma were misplaced,

and even if dear dr Freud paid too much attention to my pleas for treatment,

I couldn't have unwittingly contributed to my husband's demise, could I?

Your father represented the first victim of the drug.

Yes, and won.

I saw all the notes. He liked to bounce ideas off me.

Then you knew that aetheraline was a killer. Of course I did. To asthmatic diabetics.

And also in large doses to perfectly healthy people.

Really?

Shall we ask Ralph what he thinks?

You're muck-raking, superintendent.

You're trying to dig for dirt.

And why?

Because...

Because women of your type...

My what?! You made a choice...

To compete in a man's world, to strut and posture with the men.

You gave up every vestige of femininity.

You sacrificed it in some... Pursuit of power.

And now you resent women who can be successful and powerful

without selling out as you did.

That's just not true.

And it certainly doesn't have any bearing on... you have no concept of female solidarity...

..Because you stopped being one.

She's the most horrible woman I've ever met. Doesn't mean she's guilty.

She is, though. Show me the proof.

Forensic's rubbish. It's all hearsay - supposition not proof.

What about her father and the out-of-court settlement with the drug company? Circumstantial.

She took pleasure in telling me that she had access to research material

that showed the drug could be lethal. Just another so-called celebrity to get away with anything

cos it's too messy to make it stick.

Really pisses me off.

It'd make ucos look stupid if we went to the dpp with this.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

It's all circumstantial, and the pathology reports were all inconclusive,

so there is no case to investigate.

Uh-oh!

I see it all now. Yes.

Binky's getting the picture. A truly fabulous picture.

Picture of kitty, all sweet and smiles and warm and posh,

talking about that nasty little homosexual man who must have made the whole thing up.

He's a bitter and spiteful little poof. Well, do tell. Am I warm? Binky!

Yes? Shut up! You'll have plenty of time to talk later.

Can't take this to court.

But should you choose to run with your story as a true-life testimony, there's nothing we can do except...

Except? Accidentally leave some corroborating documents,

which are public record, in a convenient place where a hawk-eyed member of the press might find them.

And where might this convenient place be?

I have absolutely no idea.

That was devious.

Very devious!

Deliciously devious.

Sometimes you make us so proud.

'Britain's most famous TV cook, dame kitty Campbell,

'was today unavailable for comment

'after a sensational expose in the Sunday newspapers this weekend.

'Allegations have been made by former employee, binky Baxter,

'that she plotted to murder her husband 40 years ago...'

'mr Baxter, seen here earlier today, is the man at the heart of the controversy.

'However, miss Campbell's press secretary did state that she was determined to fight this,

'and that kitty vehemently denied these events ever took place.

'Kitty does not know who manipulated binky Baxter...'

once the chicken stock has settled,

introduce it gradually, just a teacup at a time,

all the while stirring continuously.

'Over.'

Brian to Esther.

The stock is now settled...

Uh...

..And I am now adding the stock to the rice.

'Over.'

just a cup at a time. Over.

Copy that.

Three cups. Over.

But what about the saffron?

'Oh, forget the saffron.'

that good? Oh, my god!

That's good.

Heaven!

Just heaven!

How about this?

Oh! Mm!

That hit the spot?

Oh! Yes!

♪ It's all right, it's ok

♪ doesn't really matter if you're old and grey

♪ it's all right I say it's ok

♪ listen to what I say

♪ it's all right, doing fine

♪ doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine

♪ it's all right I say it's ok

♪ we're getting to the end of the day

♪ hi-tech, low-tech take your pick

♪ cos you can teach an old dog a brand-new trick

♪ I don't care what anybody says

♪ at the end of the day. ♪

E-mail us at subtitling@bbc.Co.Uk