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Charlie! Charlie!

- Synced & Corrected by Dragoniod - www.MY-SUBS.com

They're waiting for you, Charlie.

First things first.

To my beautiful fiance.

Charlie...

To Lauren.

And what about finishing this business?

Mate, I love things just the way they are.

Okay? Come on.

Let battle commence!

Alright, alright, well.

I've had a bloody good run as a bachelor.

As your sisters and wives will tell you!

And since there's little time left

before I'm permanently unavailable.

I only hope my best man has provided

the traditional entertainment!

Where are we going?

Oh, I think we'll go for a little swim?

You'll love it, come on!

No, get off me.

Charlie!

Don't eat too much.

Okay. I won't.

So what have I done to deserve this?

Well, you work hard.

Should be spoiled every now and again.

Dr. Ashurst, you are so adorable.

Matt?

Hello? Kate Ashurst.

Okay. Yeah.

Yeah, I'll be right there.

Emergency?

Yeah. I'm so, so sorry.

No, don't worry. Shall I wait?

No. It could be a while.

He thinks you're a doctor?

Thanks to you.

It's not my fault.

It is your fault.

Another minute and I would've told him the truth

and then he would've forgive me and proposed

and we would've lived happily ever after.

Where'd you meet him?

At a party.

Why wasn't I invited?

Because it was a quiet wine and conversation thing,

not a barrel of beer and a bucket of Hula Hoops too.

Anyway, I was only there to make up the numbers.

Were you the only single woman there again?

Of course not, not at all.

Caterer was on her own

until her husband came to pick her up.

So this gorgeous Matt comes along

and you thought it would be a good idea

to tell him you were a doctor?

I know, I know, it just sort of slipped out.

I don't bother anymore,

I just come out and say it.

"I'm a cop, do you wanna leave now?"

They usually do.

Except the criminals.

What am I gonna do?

He'll find out, they always do.

Oh God, all human life is here.

Yep. And the press as well.

Victim's male, white. Age 32.

Name's Charles Egan.

Played for England a few years back.

At what?

Rugby, on the wing.

You know, the pretty boys who go down the outside.

Who are they?

Guests of the victim, it was his stag night.

Except that one. Evening, Sam.

Alright Emma? How's it's going?

It's going fine,

would go a lot finer without you here.

Oh, come on! It's a great story.

It's a crime scene, on your bike.

Right, come on.

Buy you dinner.

Come on.

You know you love me, why fight it?

Alright.

So, what have we got?

Can't be certain at this stage,

but I'd say the likely cause of death was drowning

as there's froth on the lips.

Any injuries?

The wrists are marked from the handcuffs,

which suggests he tried to free himself.

There's no hypostasis or rigour mortis

so he's not been here long.

Could it have been an accident?

Unlikely. Unless he cuffed himself.

What else have we got?

No money in it.

Excuse me, Ma'am.

Yeah, send it to the lab,

see what else they can recover from the SIM card.

Right Ma'am.

Excuse me?

Grace Bailey, club manager.

Detective Inspector Ashurst, Middleford CID

The guests are wondering

how much longer they're going to be kept here.

I'm sorry but you'll have to tell the guests

that none of them can leave

'til they've all given statements, which,

it could take some time.

Right.

Would you like me to organise some coffee, then?

Milk and two sugars, please.

Is this Mr. Egan's fiance?

Lauren. Jackson.

I rang.

She's at home with her father, Bill Jackson.

The Bill Jackson?

- Yeah. - He's the mayor.

Oh.

He's also one of our more prominent members.

Who owns the club?

We do. Me and Charlie.

This is our club.

Was.

He's...

Sorry, it's just a bit...

Charlie was my closest friend.

Oh, God, I need a drink.

Oh, God.

Sorry.

I'll get one from the bar.

Can you explain why Charlie was handcuffed?

Oh, they belonged to the stripper.

It was part of the show.

She was dressed as a police woman.

It's traditional, I suppose.

You know, uniforms.

Do you know where we can find this stripper?

Well, will you do it right away, please?

Thank you.

Hi.

Hello?

Looking for Shelley Flint.

Oh. She's over there.

Thanks.

He was okay when I left. I swear.

Just tell us what happened, Shelley.

Well, it was just a bit of fun, really.

Then after the usual stuff,

Charlie wanted, you know, full English breakfast.

When I said no, he got stroppy.

So he came onto you.

That's an understatement.

He dropped his trousers

and tried to rip my uniform off.

I gave him a shove and got out of there

before it got nasty.

That's all.

Why do you do it? The stripping.

Nurses' pay. The usual debts.

Look, you won't tell them, will you?

It wouldn't look good.

Did you put the handcuffs on Charlie?

No. He, he was just fooling around.

Doesn't sound that convincing, Shelley.

And no one would blame you

if you pushed him in to protect yourself,

but it'd be better for you if you told us now.

He was alive when I left. I promise.

I didn't kill him.

Is there anyone who can verify your story?

And you saw nothing else unusual?

No.

No one in the car park?

Shelley.

No. No one.

Oh, you're in early, boss.

Yeah, someone's gotta keep an eye on you two.

So, Charlie Egan.

Great player, burnt out young, though.

Great winger.

Yeah. So what are we thinking?

Fiance first, Lauren Jackson.

Let's hope she's up to talking to us.

Maybe I should come with you?

Oh no, it's alright, boss.

We'll be fine.

Yeah, of course you will.

Bill Jackson. Mayor for six months.

Two pages in Google,

on the board of six companies, blah, blah, blah,

pillar of the community.

Yeah, better watch ourselves with this one.

And Lauren Jackson.

I thought I knew that name.

We went to the same school.

Posh Girls High?

Exactly.

Insensitive bastards! A man's dead.

Now take your drink and get out of my sight.

And tell your boss I'll be having a word with him.

Who are you?

Detective Inspector Ashurst,

Detective Sergeant Scribbins, Middleford CID.

Detective Chief Inspector Sullivan's people, are you?

He's our senior officer, yes.

So why isn't he here then?

He's assigned the case to us.

New hip.

So, what do you want to know?

You weren't at the stag party last night.

No, I wasn't.

Do you mind if I ask why not?

I'm the father of the bride.

Am I a suspect?

I'm afraid we're not ruling out anyone

as yet, Mr. Jackson.

I was here with Lauren.

Do you have any idea

why anyone would want to kill Mr. Egan, sir?

No, Charlie was very popular.

A good man.

We'd like to ask your daughter a few questions

if that's possible, sir.

Is that absolutely necessary?

This is already very difficult for her.

Promise we won't take any longer than we have to.

If you must.

Just go easy.

Wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of him.

We already are.

Hello.

Well? Come on up.

It's lovely, isn't it?

Cost a fortune.

We're very sorry about what happened, Lauren.

Yes.

Oh, yes, me too.

You were head girl at Lady Margaret's, weren't you?

Yes.

So what went wrong?

We're going to have to ask you some questions.

Yes?

Would you like to sit down?

No.

Last night ...

Last night I was here with Daddy.

All night, just ask him.

We have.

Have you any idea who might have done this?

Yes.

One of his women.

There was a lot of weeping and wailing

the day I nailed Charlie Egan.

Anyone in particular?

Grace.

The golf club manager?

Absolutely besotted with Charlie.

Really quite embarrassing.

Now.

What does one do with an unused wedding dress?

Hello, we were wondering

if we could ask you a few questions

and if you wouldn't mind showing us around.

Yes, of course.

I thought it best to leave everything as it was for now.

We're not really allowed in here,

but under the circumstances.

We?

Lady members, I mean.

So, this is the famous men only bar.

Some of our members feel more comfortable

with that particular arrangement.

They say nothing happens in this borough

without it going through the back bar

of the golf club first.

The heart of every suburb

is its golf club, Detective Sergeant.

Here's no different from anywhere else.

As you can see, we have a lot of excellent facilities.

Were you and Charlie Egan close?

Mr. Egan was a very good employer.

That's not what I asked.

We were friends.

Is that all?

You've been talking to Lauren Jackson.

Whatever she's told you, it's rubbish.

She's never liked me.

Why is that?

Because Charlie...

Because Mr. Egan had promised me a position

as a director of the club.

And why didn't she like that?

She couldn't get to grips with the idea

of a woman being offered something purely on merit.

She assumed there must be more to it.

Was she the only one who made that assumption?

There are a lot of bored women here

who have nothing better to do

than to make life difficult for those of us

who actually have to work for a living.

So you weren't interested in Charlie romantically?

Mr. Egan was a very attractive man

but as I said, we were friends.

They were more than friends.

She cared about him.

Yeah, enough to kill him?

Well, let's look at the facts.

If we believe that Shelley left and then ...

And then someone else walked in,

found Charlie drunk with a handy pair of handcuffs

about his person.

And it can't be premeditated,

it's too risky with all those people around.

So someone just happened to be here that night

and spotted an opportunity.

Someone with a motive.

What do I always say about motives, Scribs?

Love or money.

Exactly.

Mr. Weaver?

Sorry, chaps.

How long had you and Charlie actually been close friends?

Years. We were at school together.

He had the charm, I had the brains.

We made a good team.

His rugby career finished rather suddenly, didn't it?

He was injured.

That's not how the press saw it.

They were the usual rumours. Women and booze.

Any of it true?

Charlie's had some ups and downs in his life.

So he probably had some enemies?

Husbands and boyfriends, mainly.

Scorned women?

Possibly a couple of those as well.

What about Grace Bailey?

She was devoted to him.

He hired her.

Planned to promote her,

against my better judgement .

Nothing personal, of course.

Just not boardroom material, that's all.

What's going on over there?

We're redesigning the back nine.

Look, I'm very busy with all this

so unless there's anything else I can help you with.

Yeah, we've been having a look

into your business affairs, Mr. Weaver.

Do the words Articles of Incorporation

mean anything to you?

'Cause yours state that if one of the directors dies,

the other has the option to buy out

his share of the golf club.

Yes?

So now Charlie's dead, you get the club for a song.

What exactly are you implying, Detective Sergeant?

I think what she's saying, Mr. Weaver,

is that your partner is dead

and you have a pretty good motive for murdering him.

Just sort out this mess.

There are a lot of influential people affected by this.

They could make or break you, Miss Detective.

- Yes! - Again.

- Thank you. Thanks. - Well done.

I won't be a minute, Bill.

Ladies.

Ash, Scribs.

Sir. What are you doing here?

I'm a member.

Oh.

So, how's it going?

It's great, okay, plenty of leads.

Good. Don't go ruffling too many feathers, yeah?

Keep me informed.

Well done, Bill.

- Three up, only four to play. - He plays golf.

Why are we so deeply disappointed by that?

Okay.

So what was it the other night?

It was murder.

What?

Matt. Look, I, I think ...

Ow!

What? What?

God, Kate, this is serious.

What do I do to stop the bleeding?

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

But you're a doctor.

Well, no, I'm not!

We spent five hours in A and E.

And?

He's got eight stitches and feels betrayed.

I really like him.

He did sound perfect. Sorry.

I'm sure he's a bigamist

and you're much better off out of it.

Yeah.

There's my boy. See you later.

What do you want, Em?

I thought you might be able to give me some information.

Yeah, I thought you might think that.

What do you wanna know?

Whatever you know about Bill Jackson for starters.

Alright. Main points of interest are as follows.

Middleford used to be a public golf course

until the council, headed by Bill Jackson as mayor,

opted to sell it off.

It was then bought, surprise surprise,

by Charlie Egan and his friend Simon.

Were they the only bidders?

No.

There was one other main bidder.

And he was half a million up on your likely lads.

So, like Meals on Wheels.

Damn well should've been. But there's more.

Charlie and Simon bought the golf course

through their private company.

And guess who the silent partner is?

Bill Jackson.

You got it.

So, hang on, Bill Jackson

sold the council-owned golf course to himself

and his little pals?

At a price decided by himself

as top honcho on the council.

That is so bent!

So, tonight?

Dinner, wine, yours,

so you can give me the full story?

You'll have to do better than that, I'm afraid.

Interesting, but not very.

They've ripped off the council,

the taxpayers, everyone.

Come on, boss.

It doesn't make them murderers.

Remain focused here, please, we're after a killer,

not a bent politician.

So aren't you gonna do anything?

This is a murder investigation, Scribs.

And you don't think there could be a link?

Solve the murder first.

Yeah, that's what we're trying to do.

That was not the reaction I was expecting.

Maybe he's in Jackson's pocket too.

Do you think so?

The victim's phone, they got it working.

Yay.

SIM cards. Don't you love 'em?

Boil 'em, bake 'em, bash 'em, they still tell tales.

Calls seem pretty normal.

Text messages.

Charlie and Lauren had a vivid imagination.

Ah, to Grace Bailey, "Consider yourself sacked."

Seventh of Feb.

Day of Charlie's murder.

Oh, Lauren.

Good to see you out and about again.

Wasn't making it any better,

me sitting around moping.

Daddy insisted I get some fresh air.

Wise man.

Are you playing a round?

Thought it might take my mind off things.

Let's hope the weather holds for you.

You didn't tell us that Charlie Egan had fired you.

He didn't.

His text message.

It wasn't serious.

I'm still here, aren't I?

So the day he dies,

he sends you a text message saying you're sacked,

but it's not serious.

In any case, I didn't take any notice of it.

Oh, look at the time it was sent.

I mean, after lunch, Charlie never knew

what he was doing or saying.

Text seems pretty clear to me.

Mr. Egan had a strange sense of humour.

I'll say.

In your statement, you say

on the night that Charlie died, you were at home.

Yes.

On your own?

Yes.

Can you tell me what you were doing?

Watching TV.

What was on?

I wasn't paying much attention, some film or other.

Grace, if you don't start telling us

something that sounds like the truth

we're gonna suspect that you weren't home at all.

So you've never sat at home alone

watching TV just because?

And you're sure it was a film?

Oh, I don't remember,

it may not have been that night.

Grace, if you've lied in your statement ...

I said, I don't remember.

Then it's serious.

Where were you?

I was at a meeting, a personal meeting.

With Charlie Egan.

No.

So someone can vouch for you?

No.

It was an AA meeting.

Grace.

Why didn't you tell us?

It's called Alcoholics Anonymous for a reason.

It's not something I want to advertise,

especially not round here.

That's a new one.

Better get someone to check it out,

see if anyone remembers seeing her at the meeting.

They're missing Charlie, aren't they?

What are you doing?

Waiting to interview you.

You're not allowed in here.

I'm allowed anywhere I want, Mr. Weaver.

Much as you like to cause trouble, Detective Sergeant,

you can quite easily talk to me somewhere else.

Yeah? We can go down to the station if you want.

What do you want?

What's going on between you and Lauren?

Nothing.

Simon, you really need to start

giving me some straight answers.

Are you having an affair with her?

No. There's nothing going on.

Nothing?

Nothing.

So what was going on

in the ladies' changing rooms just now?

Nice one.

Tend to lift my head.

It's a tough life.

Okay, Miss Head Girl, spit it out.

What's on your mind?

You're having an affair

with your fiance's best friend.

His best man.

So what?

I'm investigating a murder,

so to me it looks like a possible motive.

No one kills for love in the suburbs, Kate.

You should know that.

You wouldn't say that if you did my job.

If you loved Charlie,

why are you playing away with Simon?

How would you feel if every time

you had lunch with your girlfriends,

every time you looked at the women in the hairdresser's,

the golf club, even the bloody library,

all you could think was

"I wonder how many of them have slept with my fiance?"

I had one secret

to set against his hundreds of infidelities.

If you felt like that, why marry him?

Because I hoped that one day he might slow down.

Perhaps, who knows,

love me the way I loved him.

You see, there is a bit of blood in my veins.

It's not all iced water.

Was it envy?

What?

Why you were shagging your best mate's fiance.

Are you judging me as a police officer

or as a woman?

Just trying to get to the truth.

For your information, I love Lauren.

I was gonna tell Charlie that the night he died.

But you didn't.

I couldn't.

She'd have killed me.

If Simon wasn't so obnoxious,

I'd feel a bit sorry for him.

There's nothing standing in his way now.

Maybe he'll get what he wants after all.

Do you think Lauren will marry him?

How else is she going to get to wear that wedding dress?

I reckon she'll chew him up and spit him out.

What we doing?

You'll see. We've earned this.

Take it Matt hasn't called.

Are you sure we should be knocking off the boss's booze?

Emma, Sam Shaw's here.

Thanks.

Hmm. You're doing alright for yourself, I see.

Six months ago Simon applied to the council

for permission to develop the golf course

into a luxury housing estate.

Naturally he got it through the planning committee,

with a little bit of help from Bill Jackson.

Big profits all round.

Except for one little problem. Charlie Egan.

Well, he loved his life at the golf club.

It was his little kingdom.

He could drink professionally

and he had enough women fans

to keep him going for years.

I mean, what would he do with a housing estate?

Apart from make loads of money, of course.

So he vetoes the plans.

Told the council

they were withdrawing their planning application.

Bet Simon and Jackson loved that.

So now we've got a motive.

Well done, Sam.

You said I had to come up with something better.

Yeah, I think I'll let you buy me that drink.

This can't last.

This misery can't last.

I must remember that and try to control myself.

Nothing lasts, really.

Hi.

Hi.

How's your finger?

Oh, I'll survive.

I'm really sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry I lied.

I'm sorry I bolted.

Can we start again?

Detective Inspector Ashurst?

Come in.

Alright?

Never go drinking with a journalist.

Did he take advantage?

Mm-mm, I wasn't capable.

Never stopped you before.

What's got into you?

Matt turned up last night.

That's good, isn't it?

Yep. You'd think.

Has he forgiven you for lying?

Totally.

And he's forgiven you for being on the force?

Yep.

In fact, he thinks it's a bit of a bonus.

Ah.

Don't tell me he's got some outstanding parking tickets

he wants you to deal with.

Nope.

Ah. He wanted you to wear the uniform, didn't he?

With heels.

Yeah. They always want the heels.

So did you?

Nope.

Thanks.

Great.

What?

Someone's been using Charlie's credit card.

They've been arrested, bringing them in now.

A man's credit card.

A murder victim's credit card

and you try and pass it!

How stupid can you get, Shelley?

So how exactly did you come to be

in possession of this particular artefact, Shelley?

And the truth this time, please.

On the stag night, Charlie got pissed

and he didn't know what was going on.

So I took his cash and his stupid card.

I reckon him and those other bastards owed me.

Why is that?

Couple of years back,

Simon Weaver had some scam going on

with his dodgy council mates.

Found me this nice ex council flat.

Seemed like a good deal.

Then he passes me on to another of his mates

to fix up a mortgage.

And?

And it never stops.

You just keep getting passed on one after another.

So I just thought, sod it.

It's my turn now.

You see this, Shelley?

This is what we call a motive.

I swear he was still alive when I left.

Why should we believe that?

There was someone else.

He was outside when I was leaving.

Do you know who he was?

It was Jackson, the mayor.

Why didn't you tell us this before, Shelley?

I was scared to.

I know him.

Who do you think is behind the council flat scam?

I know better than to cross him.

Ladies. What a pleasant surprise.

What can I do for you?

Can we speak to you in private please, sir?

Now's not a good time.

I'm afraid it's rather urgent.

In case you hadn't noticed, I have visitors here.

Paying their respects to Lauren.

Yeah, we appreciate that, sir.

What's going on, Daddy?

The police women were just leaving, Lauren.

Oh no, we're not going, Mr. Jackson,

until he tell us why you failed to inform us

that you were at the golf club on the night of the murder.

But I wasn't there.

That's not what our witness says.

This better not take long.

I'll ask you again, Mr. Jackson,

what were you doing at the golf club

on the night of the murder?

I'm not saying a word until my lawyer gets here.

Why didn't you tell us you owned a third of the club?

I don't see that that's any of your business.

It is when it's a motive for murder, Mr. Jackson,

particularly when the victim was standing in your way.

It is true that you and Mr. Weaver

were looking to sell the club, isn't it?

Oh, making money is a crime now, is it?

No. But lying in your statement is.

Get Sullivan.

Ah, just the man.

Ashurst, Scribbins. Outside, please.

Look, Shelley saw Bill Jackson at the club

just before the murder.

Of course he swears he wasn't there,

but he also has a motive.

Charlie was obstructing his plans

to develop the place.

Motive, opportunity, proven lies.

Sorry, but Jackson is being investigated

as part of another inquiry.

You're gonna have to let him go.

I don't understand.

We are questioning him over allegations

of fraud, embezzlement and misappropriation of funds.

But he's our chief suspect.

Well, he is not the murderer.

- Yeah, but he ... - So leave it.

We've been investigating Jackson for a while.

Hence my membership of the golf club

and why I wasn't keen on you stirring things up too much.

Yeah, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before.

Well, thanks.

No, we understand, boss.

On the night of your murder,

Bill Jackson was under surveillance.

He went to the club to try and bully Charlie

into coming on board with the development idea.

Simon and Jackson met to talk about it

and they were together at the time of the murder.

Right. So we lose our chief suspect.

Unless Simon and Jackson were in it together.

I'm sorry, but at least we have Jackson on other charges.

But not murder.

Well, I think I owe you both a drink.

Hm.

You okay?

Scribs!

There we are.

Hello.

I heard you were here, can I help you?

Yeah. Might be able to.

We were wondering how to open this drawer.

Well, you've got the keys there, haven't you?

Oh, you mean Charlie's? No, we tried those.

None of them seemed to fit.

Really?

Yeah, it's strange, isn't it?

You think he'd have a key to his desk.

Main door, side door, office, health club.

Just like yours, I suppose,

but no key to his desk.

Could we try yours?

Mine?

Yeah, if you don't mind.

No. Of course not.

Thanks.

Main door, side door, office, health club.

Oh, you've got an extra one.

Ah, just what we were looking for.

It must have got mixed up.

And when would that have been?

Could have been any time.

Not really.

What do you mean?

Well, on the night of the stag party,

Charlie used his keys to open this drawer.

He wanted his favourite bottle of whiskey.

And according to Simon, he left the keys in the lock.

So, how did they come into your possession, Grace?

I...

Must've been sometime during the party.

I wasn't here that night. I told you.

Yes, we checked your story and there was a meeting.

The supervisor confirms you were there,

he also told us that the meeting finished at 10.

And Charlie was last seen alive after 11.

So you could easily have got back here.

How long since you last had a drink, Grace?

Two years.

Not that it's any of your business.

So, we won't find your prints on this bottle?

Is this what you were looking for

when we interrupted you the other morning?

I needed a drink.

It was the shock of Charlie's murder,

I mean, what do you expect?

But you couldn't open the drawer, could you?

Because those aren't Charlie's keys, are they?

They're yours from when you accidentally confused them

on the night of the murder.

Charlie was so nice to me.

He knew I had lost my last job

and I told him how I was fighting my addiction.

He gave me such encouragement, responsibility.

So you fell for him.

He told me he loved me.

But it was only one night, and then the next day

he told everyone.

And they were all sniggering at me.

I was just another...

Conquest.

And you still carried on working here?

I live with the humiliation

because I thought he needed me.

What happened, Grace?

I couldn't believe he'd fired me.

So I had to talk to him.

You want it.

And then I saw him with that woman.

Come on.

Was that all I'd been to him?

Get off me!

So I knew what I had to do.

Grace, what are you doing here?

Fancy having a little fun?

Yes, Charlie. Why not?

I think I'm gonna enjoy this.

You'll love it.

Grace!

Grace!

Grace!

Grace!

Grace!

I needed a drink and I knew where to find one.

I was provoked, wasn't I?

I mean, Charlie abused me, didn't he?

I mean, that should count, shouldn't it?

Shouldn't it?

Poor Grace.

Trying to beat the boys at their own game.

What's the valuable lesson she's taught us, Scribs?

Don't gatecrash stag parties.

And?

Don't mix business with pleasure.

Because?

It'll end in tears.

Exactly.

But if normal blokes won't go out with us,

what hope is there?

There's always hope.

And if not,

there's always that lovely new DI in fraud.

I really wouldn't recommend it,

not after your performance at the Christmas party

with that DS from traffic.

You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?

No.

- Synced & Corrected by Dragoniod - www.MY-SUBS.com