All language subtitles for Jonathan Creek s04e01 The Coonskin Cap.eng

At 5.35 a. m. On Monday 12th October,

staff nurse Gill Whitely had just finished
her late shift at Bracefield Hospital.

- See you later. Take care.
- Bye.

But as she returned to
her car to drive home,

she could little have imagined the
living terror that lay before her.

- You stupid cow!
- No!

Didn't you see me flashing my lights?

- She blinked.
- You're kidding?

Right eyelid flickered
just before the track in.

Pull the cut forward three
frames. It'll be fine.

Nice little sequence, but
don't overdo the Dutch head.

Tricksy angles pall very
low among the over-29s.

Counting out of VT. Three, two, one...

- Cue and cut.
- Rose McLeary, 29,

dental receptionist and mother
of two, throttled to death,

then lashed to a tow bar
by an unknown monster.

A savage and shocking murder

that comes only 48 hours after
the body of 30-year-old Iris West

was found on an industrial estate
where she'd been walking her dog.

Both women strangled with thin wire.

The only clue so far to
the killer's identity,

the macabre shadow of a
man seen in the car park -

a man who according to witnesses
was wearing a Davy Crockett hat.

The camera loves her, doesn't it?

But you might want to rethink the lip gloss.
Multiple stranglings, I'd go for nut brown.

Clinique Number Two or Topaz Glow
- something more restful.

Superintendent Ted Parnevik, two
young women slain on their way home,

seemingly for sport, by what can
only be some kind of mental deviant.

Without wishing to cause alarm, there
must be a chance he'll strike again.

Obviously, I can't rule that out.

Try cramming right. You might
get a kick off that earring.

There. Yeah.

It just takes the eye to her.

In light of this, are there any special
measures we should be considering?

It seems to me there's one very simple
measure we may be overlooking, Carla.

That's a little thing called a noose.

- Right. Well...
- Social cleansing may be unfashionable,

but from where I'm standing,

40 years of slapped wrists haven't exactly
cleaned up the streets in this country.

- Quite. Although...
- And our old friends the cyanide pellet

and lethal injection could
teach us a thing or two here.

People talk about getting
inside a criminal's mind.

Well, let me tell you. 2,000 volts
up the spine'll take you there.

Superintendent, thank you very
much for coming along tonight

to help us to be your "Eyes & Ears".

Talk about a baptism of fire!

Which you handled with great maturity.

He could buy us another
five ratings points.

See if we can get him back next week.

- Adam?
- Mmm.

- I thought we were going to the Ivy?
- Well... the Ivy was fully booked.

I've just come from there.
They said it was a slow night.

Really? Well. You know...

Oh, this is Velda,
by the way, who, um...

I don't know if you recall a little charity
raffle I agreed to support in the summer -

Action on Osteoporosis.

First prize a magic
night out with Adam Klaus.

Actually, it was second prize.
First prize was a tumble dryer.

So... Hey, you wanna sit down,
join us for a little chow?

Actually, we've got a bit
of a last-minute problem

with that surrealist painting
for the Dream Twister set.

We can't get clearance on the Magritte,

so Design have some
alternatives they think are you -

"The Great Masturbator" by Salvador Dali

or possibly "The Scream" by Munch.

- Maybe go with "The Scream".
- OK. I'll get on to that.

So, where's he taking you
afterwards, Velda? Stringfellows?

Stringfellows?! Oh, can we?

Don't keep her out too late,
Adam. I know what you're like.

See you in the morning.

So, that's Police Constable
Heather Davy, D-A-V-Y.

E
- Y. And that's Police Sergeant.

Sergeant Davey.

How do you feel about retracing
this poor woman's final footsteps?

We're near where she was
found strangled to death.

- That must get to you.
- If we can jog just one person's memory

about something they saw the
night that Iris was murdered,

it'll be more than worthwhile.

Get down! Down! Everybody get
right back out of this street!

There! Neil, front entrance!
Jim, cover the back!

Right!

Don't get up.

- Are you OK?
- Yeah, thanks.

Missed by a mile.

Go on. It's yours.

Stay close to the building!

Well, what time is it now?

Just coming up to 11. Guys?

It's gonna have to be another
three feet upstage, at least.

Clear the hoist. Yeah,
yeah. OK, then. Um...

12.30, Cannon Studios, Room 402.

I'll see you then.

OK. Bye.

Late one, Adam. Would you say?

Where the hell have you been?

Oh, God. Is the unit nurse in yet?

Well, get the unit pusher. It's urgent.

God, you look like death!

Stringfellows.

Boy, you just had to go
and open your big mouth.

- What?
- Oh, will you close those tabs?

It feels like I'm staring in a mirror!

Don't tell me
- the lovely Velda.

After she bit the head off a live
lobster, I thought we could only go up.

2 a. m., we get to the nightclub,

where she insists on showing everyone
the tattoo of Mr Bean on her stomach,

combing his hair with
her appendectomy scar.

And that's just for starters.

I introduce her to Bryan Ferry.

She just stands there
giggling and picking her nose.

Then she starts picking his nose.

Then she comes over green and
dashes outside to the toilet.

Ten minutes later, I get a message saying
she's choked to death on her own vomit.

- Oh, don't!
- There's several large chunks of crustacean

lodged in her windpipe.

Kinda brings it home to you, I guess.

How important it is to chew your food.

That's a BAF...

- That's a BAFTA, isn't it?
- Yes, it is.

- That's an
RTS? - Mm-hmm.

- What was all that about?
- Sorry.

Previous life just flashed before
me. Not one I'd care to revisit,

for reasons I'll explain later.

OK. Shouldn't be more than 20. If Frank
can be standing by with that rough cut.

How are you doing, sir? Brendan
Baxter. Thanks for your time.

Carla Borrego is the
new anchor in the studio.

Jonathan Creek, who I hope can
solve this little puzzle for us.

When you said a
specialist investigator...

You know, six months ago, a
theatrical agent stuck behind a desk.

"Lift that bushel,
prepare to be dazzled".

Actually, we know each
other. The two of us...

...did work together a while
back... on another project.

- Right.
- No way?

Well, there you go. Small world.

OK, we've all read the
papers. We know why we're here.

Two women dead, one very nearly. Big
response to our appeals for information.

This week, we overtook "Crimewatch",
with a 52% share of the phone-in.

And "Eyes & Ears" does appeal
to a much younger demographic.

Kids can check out the latest
serial killing with you.

We don't patronise them
with Radio 4 homilies.

Plus, we're not afraid to do
our share of detective work,

which I hope is where you can
assist us on this business.

OK. So, the key was still in the
lock when they broke down the door.

There was no way to get
out without being seen,

despite which, it's been confirmed
the bullets they recovered,

which nearly took her head
off, were definitely fired

from that rifle left by the window.

Which I hope our two coppers
were careful not to touch?

Well, obviously. Till it had
been dusted for fingerprints.

That's probably where they
made their big mistake.

Sorry, can I just take that?

- Speaking. Oh, hi...
- So, how've you been?

Why didn't you return my calls.
I must have left a dozen messages.

I've been fine, thank you.
And if you want to know,

I'm now a happily married woman.

Yeah?

Oh, please. Not an actor.

To a very successful businessman.

Yeah. Still here...

So, see you tomorrow, then...

at the scene of the crime.

I may see you on Wednesday,
depending on this. OK.

Great.

Maybe I should've mentioned
it. I don't know, but...

What's weird is it was
actually going quite well.

- Hmm...
- Until this one night. Like an idiot,

I took him to meet Mum and Dad and...

I couldn't believe it.

He just came out with this really
offensive remark about my father...

- No? ... that was so uncalled for.

Suddenly, I saw what he was really like.

It was such an eye-opener.

Don't worry. I will put it all behind
me for the sake of the show, so...

Is that a promise? Great.

OK, Jim. I'll call you Tuesday
when we'll have more news.

Yeah. Yeah. Bye.

Sorry, sweetheart. Did you...?

Night-night.

Er, if you don't mind. It's
very bad for my calf leather.

What?

That drainpipe. You wouldn't have
to be Spider-Man to shin down.

No, just the Invisible Man when there
are a dozen people down here watching.

I didn't have to trek out here today.

- Your husband wanted to rope me in.
- Absolutely. I should hope it wasn't me.

And stop giving me those dry,
cynical looks all the time!

- Dry, cynical looks?
- The ones that say,

"Since when are you a TV presenter?"

I actually spent three years
on a regional magazine programme

after my media studies course, so...

And Brendan said the camera loves me.

Maybe you should have
married the camera.

What you have there is a shoulder squeezer.
That's only one up from red braces.

Don't think I didn't clock it, what was
going through your grubby brain yesterday.

When he said I was the new
anchor, you were thinking,

"What happened to the old wanker?" Is
that meant to be funny? It's pathetic.

- Perhaps we should just get on with this.
- No problem.

I presume you'll want to
inspect that room up there?

Not especially.

Fine.

I'll just go on my own, then.

Carla Borrego, "Eyes & Ears".

All right. You want me to say
it. I'm still none the wiser.

You were looking for your
evidence in the wrong building.

The key to the vanishing marksman was
in the abandoned warehouse opposite.

It's no big deal to lock the door, then
climb out the window, leaving the rifle...

hours before anyone got here.

The tricky bit was getting bullets to
explode just as our policewoman was passing.

Let's say he rigs up some charges
inside that building with some sticky,

waits till she appears, then
sets them off by remote control.

While everyone's in the room with the
rifle, he's in there removing the evidence.

He plants a couple of spent bullets where
they'll be easily found, then hops it.

And... if they'd felt the
rifle, it would have been cold.

So, he never wanted to kill
her, just scare off the police?

There have to be much
simpler ways of doing that.

I've got a very queasy feeling this could
be part of something a lot more sinister...

and we won't find out
what until it's too late.

He'll be back soon.
Can I get you a coffee?

Thanks. We'll just wait.

Best if I do the talking.
He's not exactly cuddly.

Yes. I saw the interview.

Had some rather innovative
ideas about modern policing.

Thought you did very well to head him off
before he got onto Chinese water torture.

- What are you doing?!
- The police don't tell us anything.

It's a perfect opportunity.
Keep cavey by the door.

"Keep cavey"?! What are
we now? The Famous Five?

- He'll have you garrotted!
- Stop being so soggy and just...

Oh, my God! Is that like...
an airbag or something?!

Ah, good. The decompression valve
seems to have righted itself.

Excuse my passion for gadgetry...

but security here's
notoriously unreliable.

I think it's as well to have a back-up.

Yes, we, um... Thanks.

I had some ideas about
that gunman, actually,

we thought might interest you.

Just try and calm down,
please. Where was this exactly?

OK. We'll get someone there.
Give me your name and addr...

Hello? Great! Where's Blakey? If this
is a hoax, someone's going to pay for it!

I want three units armed and
dangerous at Horley College fast.

A student just saw a man
wearing a Davy Crockett hat.

Look, if you're not up for
this... I mean, after last time.

Are you kidding? This could
be seven rungs up the ladder.

If I nail Public Enemy Number One,
I could be out this uniform in weeks.

You know how you like me out of uniform.

Look, um...

This isn't the time...

and it's not the place, but...

We could be overreacting,

but if he wants more target
practice, we're ahead of the game.

Martin, take three men around the back.

- Yes, sir.
- Heather, check out the gym.

Brian, seal off these walkways.

He may have already got to her, or
this whole thing might be a nasty trap.

Who's there?

Police! Show yourself!

Shit! Shit!

Come in. Sergeant Davey to base.

- Heather, what's happening?
- I don't know.

Someone's on me, and I think... I
think he may be in here... in the gym.

God help us all. Right!
Get this place surrounded!

Somebody get a bloomin'
key to this thing!

Heather!

Get back against the wall.

You hear me? Don't
let him get behind you.

Heather!

Oh, Godl Nol

Godl You bastardl You...
You'll never get aw... I

Come on, man!

Heather!

Until last night, I just thought
we were looking for a lunatic.

Now I don't know if he's even human.

I was right outside
that door while he was...

I couldn't do a thing to help her.

Ten seconds later, what? He's
slipped through a crack in the wall?

The whole thing is unreal.

So forgive me if I don't
put my confidence in some...

mop-haired magic geek.

To lose a colleague like that has
to be absolutely the worst thing,

though would I be wrong in thinking
she was more than just a colleague?

It's not something you go public on.

I'm sure you'll appreciate
the... delicate dynamics.

If people are looking for tacky
explanations about how she got her stripes,

you can bet they'll find them.

I'm afraid that was her misfortune
- to fall in love with a senior officer.

Her misfortune... and mine.

Sorry, Superintendent. That recording.

- Could we run it one more time?
- Certainly.

Oh, my Godl Nol

Godl You bastardl You...
You'll never get aw... I

What?

- Oh, my Godl Nol
- I dunno. Was that...?

- It sounds like a bee. Can you hear that?
- What do we make of that?

Lab just found some tiny traces of
blood on her flak jacket, on the collar.

- Where the wire cut into her skin?
- You'd think so,

except the blood didn't
belong to Heather.

Heather...

Oh, my God!

Heather Davey, Rose McLeary, Iris West.

Heather, Rose, Iris.

And the fact that all three victims'
names have a floral connection

throws up a chilling new question for those
trying to build up a picture of the killer.

Is this man, who stalks his prey
wearing an American frontiersman fur hat,

deliberately setting out in some
twisted symbolic way to deflower women?

Is he asserting the
brutal hunting instinct...?

Tonight, a sense of terror
has gripped the capital,

a capital where danger
now lurks in every shadow.

And as a terrified nation asks what kind
of fiend can strangle a young policewoman

then evaporate into thin air,

we call in a man who may be
able to provide the answer.

If you have any information...

OK, Gary. If there's anything you're not
clear about, just ask our stage manager.

Okey-dokey.

Am I seeing things? That's
not who I think he is?

You know, according to Coral,
who does our audience research,

that little episode the other night
tested surprisingly well in our exit poll.

73% found his appearance risqué but fun,

giving the show its highest
appreciation indices for five years.

- Plus, while he was on stage...
- A barely significant 4.5%

spotted the hidden
mechanism behind the couch.

Making it a perfect piece
of theatrical misdirection.

Great. I'm talking to Captain Queeg now.

Some nutter streaks across the stage, now
you've signed him up to do it every night?!

I'm sorry. This is totally unacceptable.

Sadly, Jonathan, Your views
on this matter are redundant.

Now, if you excuse me, I have
more delicate affairs to attend to.

As a mark of respect to our dear
departed lady of the lobsters,

I expect to see you by my side at the
crematorium on Sunday. 10 a. m. Sharp.

So, incidentally, are they any
closer to catching that guy out there?

After what they were saying on the box,
obviously I've been catatonic with worry.

Yes, well...

I think you'll find coral
is actually an animal, so...

You...? Oh.

You angel! Emily, you hear that?

I'm not a plant, I'm an animal!

So, do you want the good
news or the even better news?

Wednesday's overnight
- 8.9 on a 42 share.

This third killing has
put us through the roof.

Plus, I'm two pounds down on last
weekend. So, here's to success.

Jonathan, I thought we'd run your
solution to the shooting on Monday.

- That will be a big water-cooler
moment. - It's not a solution, Brendan.

At this stage, it's no
more than a hypothesis.

You've got a psycho out
there picking off young women

for reasons that may
ultimately defeat us all.

I'm getting uncomfortable with
all this five-and-dime profiling.

It's trivialising a very nasty business.

Which is where you come in,
to add a more academic curve.

The nation is poised to hear you explain
how he got out of the gym like a ghost.

So, no pressure, then?

Is the mackerel low sodium?
I have an elevated diastole.

Pain to be always watching the
blood pressure, but at my age...

- If it's lightly steamed, that'll be fab.
- Oh, here we go again, that look.

I dunno. Blood pressure... Something just
leapt across a synapse, just to annoy me.

That speck on her collar. If it
wasn't hers, where did it come from?

Careful. Don't crowd him.

Remember you're dealing with a level of
intuitive genius we'll never understand.

God! He certainly picks
his moments, doesn't he?

No, best if I come straight
over. We'll bounce it around. Bye.

Sorry, guys. I have to love you and
leave you. We'll catch up tomorrow.

I suppose you want a lift somewhere.

Carla Borrego, right?

Look, I can't talk
here. It's too dangerous.

If you want some information,
come to my place tonight.

But you must come alone. OK?

Promise. You come alone.

Voyeuristic? Where do you get that from?

It's a public service,
and this woman proves it.

She's obviously far too
scared to go to the police.

Everything's about numbers now.
Does he know how witless that sounds?

"How was it for you,
darling?" "It must be OK -

"it appeals to a young demographic. "

So did the Hitler Youth.
It's worse than voyeuristic.

It's irresponsible. Every woman in London
named after a flower is afraid to go out.

"Daisy Chain Killer"! What are you like?

Look, why don't you admit
what this is really about?

You just can't deal with
the fact that I chucked you!

To think I introduced you to my
parents. What a narrow escape that was.

After what you said about my father,
I shouldn't be speaking to you.

What are you talking about?

I was on my best behaviour that day.

I remember I got hiccups
just as were leaving.

Look, I was there, remember?
I know what you said.

Now, I wonder what this'll be.

Perhaps she knows someone
who owns one of those hats.

There's something very odd about
all that coonskin cap business.

It makes you wonder if that
was what they actually saw.

Anyway, I don't imagine there'll
be any call for your services,

so if you can just bear to wait.

Hello?

Oh, my God!

That's all I can say.

This is what frightens
me more than anything -

when you just can't find a way in.

Clearly, there's some kind of powerful
psychotic charge being derived,

but they're not out of any textbook.

Her husband's been away looking
after his mother who's ill,

so... I don't know.

You can talk about being
marginalized, cries for attention,

but the truth is, Moira
Jane Rowe defeats me.

What about MO? Will she share the
secret of that gymnasium stunt with us?

Strangely evasive on that one.

All she says is, "You'll
have to fit it together. "

So, as serial killers go, not
exactly archetypal, would you say?

'Cause real life can
be very badly written.

The idea that a young woman kills
other young women because she likes it

is a psychoanalyst's nightmare.

And inconveniently for
the tabloid criminologists,

there was no pattern of any kind or tidy
back-story to explain why she did it.

All right. But it still leaves us with a
disappearing act that has to be explained.

I haven't heard any wise words
from you lately on that subject.

I keep coming back to that vaulting horse,
but I've probably seen too many P-o-W films.

It was the first place they looked.

Our best shot's got
to be that recording.

What did she say? "You bastard.
You'll never get away. "

The place was clearly airtight.

She knew that. So why do I feel that
it was a strange choice of words?

She was choking to death,
which can cloud the judgement.

Just can't unlock it.

You go home and try wiggling your key,
and I'll check in with you tomorrow.

Not that I want to crowd
your intuitive genius,

but we do have this production deadline.

Excuse me.

Frankly, I wouldn't board a dog in
this room. Where can I take a nap?

It's a joke. Also, this bread's stale.

And I think you'll find I
asked for sun-dried tomatoes.

And can we keep the
corridors clear tonight?

Explain to that dimwit with the choc ices
that I'm actually part of this production.

- And what can we do for you?
- Stick your head in there while I flush.

You don't talk to people
like that. Now, bugger off.

- Who the hell are you?
- The man who's telling you to bugger off!

Come on! As from now, your
showbiz career is over.

People come to the Adam Klaus magic show,
they do not expect to see a dick onstage.

I rephrase that. Full-frontal
nudity is not admissible.

Now, hop it!

You have no authority.
I'm integral to that trick.

We'll re-cast. Jan will
set up some auditions.

How can you have a streaker's dressing
room? That's an oxymoron, surely?

- I can make trouble. Don't think I won't.
- Now you're scaring me.

- Get his clothes.
- Big trouble! A poxymoron yourself!

Sorry to interrupt one
of your slanging matches,

knowing how much you relish
the use of coarse language.

You're never going to let it rest,
this business with your father.

Tell me what I'm supposed
to have said to upset you.

Just because he was sounding off about the
trade unions, that's just his generation.

And? All I remember saying was
he seems like a bit of a prick...

...ly gentleman.

I did have hiccups, so
he might have misheard me.

Oh, right. Really

You've had a week to think that one up.

It's not my fault you only heard half...

Heard the first half... Shit.

- Which means if she was actually talking...
- Now what?

Hello?

You look at this
painting, what do you see?

- Well, obviously a person screaming.
- Obviously. It's called "The Scream".

But it could equally be
about something else...

...a person hearing a scream,

which is what many art
historians now believe,

based on the original title, "Despair",

and the fact that that landscape
was said to contain a lunatic asylum.

You're telling me this because...?

Sometimes, if you just flip your perspective,
you get a different idea of what's going on.

We play that RT back, what do we assume?

That Parnevik is overhearing the victim's
final words to the person strangling her.

- As opposed to?
- As opposed to...

...something even more worrying
that hardly bears thinking about.

Suddenly, that buzzing starts to
make sense, and the specks of blood.

Why didn't we see that before?

What's the most common explanation
you can think of for blood on a collar?

I don't know. Someone
cutting someone's throat?

That's very common,
is it, down your road?

Think more about someone
cutting their own throat.

Jonathan, stop making my brain
ache. What are you driving at?

Obviously, this is
long-term pre-record.

For reasons of sub judice, none of
this can go out until after the trial...

There you go.

This gymnasium in the ultra-modern PE
block at Horley College of Further Education

might seem an unlikely venue
for a classic locked-room murder,

but it was here on a
freezing night in October

that Police Sergeant Heather Davey
was impossibly strangled to death

while responding to a sighting of
the so-called Daisy Chain Killer.

Today, as "Eyes & Ears"prepares to shed
sensational new light on that tragic event,

we welcome back
Superintendent Ted Parnevik,

who hopefully will
comment on our findings,

and our own mystery
consultant Jonathan Creek,

whose flair for the intricacies of
stage magic has led him, finally,

to the solution of this bizarre
and rather ingenious trick,

though there was very little
in the way of key data.

We can all see it's a bit of a fortress
- single door,

locked and under constant observation, and
only one witness to what really happened,

the victim herself.

Godl You bastardl You...
You'll never get aw... I

- From which, two things struck you.
- A slight buzzing in the background

and the words, "You bastard.
You'll never get away. "

It's only since we found out the identity
of this serial killer, it's started to jar.

A woman might sometimes
call another woman a bastard,

but I started thinking, if you
turn that moment on its head,

and the Superintendent isn't overhearing
her talking to an unknown killer at all...

he knows exactly who
she's talking to in there.

She's talking to him.

From there, it isn't hard to
imagine her more likely response -

"You'll never get away WITH THIS" -

cut off before she could finish.

Excuse me. I hope nobody's
taking any of this seriously!

- Have you any idea...?
- As I said, your response when we're done.

Then, of course, something about that
shooting in the street bothered you.

I wondered why someone who'd
previously strangled his victims

would suddenly start toting a gun,

unless this was the work of someone
else with another agenda entirely,

someone who'd decided to use these serial
killings to mask a murder of their own.

Moira Rowe's only comment
on what happened here,

"You'll have to fit it together. "

There's evidence she may have trouble
mentally separating this crime from her own.

That or she just didn't
choose to cooperate.

The more I thought about it, I
could see only one possible reason

to introduce the threat of gunfire.

Recovered from your car this morning, and
the key to how Heather Davey was murdered.

Of course, your passion for gadgetry was
already well-known to us, Superintendent,

except what we have here is rather
more lethal than an airbag in a desk.

The prototype for which, I
realised, was in my drawer at home.

Anyone who's used one of these home blood
pressure monitors knows how tight they get.

Buzzing sound familiar?

We can imagine what something like this
would feel like applied to your chest.

A couple of concealed panels inside
the lining which, when activated,

gradually inflate and lock together.

Ready for this?

So, with the victim trapped inside,

a piece of life-saving body armour
becomes an instrument of death.

Unable to breathe, to all intents
and purposes, she's been strangled.

Too late, she realised
what was happening to her

and who was responsible.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

No!

God!

You b...! You bastard! You...

You'll never get...!
You'll never get aw...!

You couldn't leave a customised
flak jacket around for inspection,

so at some point,
there had to be switch.

Blood on the collar told
us it was worn by a man,

who'd at some point cut himself shaving.

So how did we do?

In a breathtaking abuse
of police manpower,

you engineered the murder of
a woman you claimed to love.

Regular viewers will be familiar with
your views on crime and punishment,

so I'm sure you'll argue just cause.

Never underestimate the
power of pride, Miss Borrego.

It drives nations to war...

...corrupts far stronger men than me.

I was no more than a tool to
her, in every sense of the word.

I had no place in her heart.

Life was a ladder.

I helped her climb it.

As long as she lived,

she knew she could control me.

In the end, I had no choice.

Isn't that sweet?

- Let me.
- Tonight, maybe, when we get back...

Can't it wait?

What if you don't come back tonight?

You don't always.

Only when it suits you, it seems.

I'm lucky if I see
you one night in seven.

Well, you know... One night
in seven, don't knock it.

That should be more than
enough for a man your age.

We're not joined at the hip, Ted.

You give me a helping hand...

and I give you a helping hand,

so don't be greedy, OK?

Heather...

Oh, careful! You trying to strangle me?

Do you think I want this
cheap tat around my throat?

For God's sake, Ted,
get a grip on yourself.

Well, you can always argue, can't you -

which one's more to blame,
the prostitute or her client?

Yes.

Right.

Fine work, Mr Creek.

Very fine indeed.

- When this goes out on air...
- Big water-cooler moment?

Depend on it. And the
two of you on screen...

- The camera loved us?
- Carla Borrego and Jonathan Creek...

I think we're looking
at a very strong combo.

Velda Bessie Winstanley was a
woman of great charm and energy,

with an appetite for life
as big as her personality.

Today, as the circumstances of her death
remain tragically imprinted on our minds,

I'm sure we all wish to honour her memory
with a deep sense of pride and respect,

and above all, dignity.

Ooh! Oh!

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