Original subtitles

Good luck, Miss Revelle.

Ladies and gentlemen...

the moment you´ve all been waiting for --

may I present

Britain´s most gifted psychic medium, Miss Faith Revelle.

Good evening.

Now, remember, we´re all friends here tonight.

So there´s nothing to fear.

Now, you and I know that no one is ever truly lost --

simply hidden from view.

Everything all right, Mr. Crabbe?

"Is it worth it?", I ask myself.

I think so.

The finest breast of Aylesbury duckling...

served with a delicately balanced puree

of apples, sage, and onion --

Yes.

Accompanied by galette of potatoes.

And that philistine on table 1 asked for mustard.

Well, at least he chose English mustard.

It´s no comfort, John.

Henry?

He´s in the chicken house. He´ll be out in a minute.

Table 1?

Afraid so.

Sometimes I think he talks to those chickens

more than he talks to me.

Cheaper than therapy, Miss Crabbe.

Not when you consider the heating and lighting --

not to mention, the food.

And are those chickens grateful? No, they´re not.

Productivity´s down again.

Maybe that´s the problem -- no incentives.

And what do you suggest?

Well, that music, for a start.

I mean, you wouldn´t get

the Japs playing Elgar in their factories.

It´s -- well, it´s too soothing.

Those birds are so mellow, they´re positively horizontal.

Hardly a good position for laying.

You want my advice?

Change your music.

To what?

Modern jazz?

Pfft! Heavy metal.

No, a birdy song.

I was only joking, right?

Well, it was in extremely poor taste.

Thank you.

Good night.

There´s been another letter.

"You tread

"on sacred paths.

Remember no man shall see me and live."

They´re getting worse.

It´s getting out of hand.

We need to talk to an expert.

I´ll catch you up. Couldn´t it wait?

It´s a matter of life and death.

Don´t think we´re not grateful

for Miss Revelle´s contribution last time.

And I´m sure if we ever need her help in the future --

It´s Faith who needs your help.

In what way?

She´s playing the Middleton Theatre.

She´s been receiving threatening letters.

Any idea who sent them?

None.

Thought Miss Revelle was psychic?

I´m sure the boys at the station will take it very seriously.

Faith wants you to handle it.

She knows you.

I rarely involve myself in individual cases these days.

What is it the press call it -- "the need to know" factor?

And if anything

were to happen to Miss Revelle --

Is, uh...is that some sort of a threat?

Faith is the guardian of a very special gift, Mr. Fisher.

I don´t have to tell you that.

The possibilities are endless.

Let the soup markets fight over nighttime Cornflake eaters.

I´m thinking of cultivating wild mushrooms.

Cultivating wild mushrooms, Henderson,

is a contradiction in terms.

Mind you -- so´s the free market economy.

Mr. Fisher to see you, Chef.

What day is it?

Thursday.

Oh.

That´s what I thought.

It´s Thursday, sir.

Shouldn´t you be pushing a golf trolley somewhere?

You pull a golf trolley, Crabbe.

Oh.

Have you heard of Faith Revelle?

No, I can´t say I have, sir.

Psychic medium -- she´s got a show down at the theatre.

She´s been receiving these.

Obviously, the work is some religious crank.

Not, uh, not life-threatening, would you say?

Well, I´m not a psychic, sir.

Miss Revelle

claims to have no idea who sent them.

Her psychic powers are not programmed

to deal with hate mail, apparently.

Well, if you could be brief, sir, I´m needed in the kitchen.

What is the dish of the day?

Boiled pig´s head, sir.

You were saying?

About three years ago, a local G.P., Dr. Madden,

was assaulted on a night call

by a couple of junkies after drugs -- dreadful business.

And what´s that got to do with Faith Revelle, sir?

It was information supplied by Miss Revelle

that led to the arrest of the assailants.

Ah, law

Not exactly.

Not exactly, sir?

Miss Revelle came by this information

from a rather dubious source.

She had a vision, Crabbe.

Psychic vision.

Right.

Crabbe.

Sir, I´m trying to run a restaurant.

Steve, would you please find something

for the Assistant Chief Constable to whip --

that seems to be his forte.

Crabbe?

Look, sir, it´s either here or nowhere.

Now, a vision -- you were saying?

Well, naturally, when Revelle first turned up at the nick,

I dismissed her -- she was some sort of nutter.

And you were desperate for a result?

Of course, I insisted on a press embargo.

What, she agreed to that?

At the time.

At the time, yeah. Uh, yes. And now?

Her manager, Jim Shane,

wants me to handle Miss Revelle´s

present difficulties personally.

Or else he´ll go to the press?

Yes, well, you can just see what the tabloids will make of that.

Senior police officer

consults psychic medium.

Mind you -- it didn´t do Ronald Reagan any harm.

Crabbe, a woman´s life is being threatened.

Oh, come on, sir.

You don´t seriously expect me to abandon my kitchen

to babysit some second-rate fork bender, do you?

Cambridge will pick you up at 2:00.

What exactly have I been making?

Gooseberry fool, sir.

Afternoon.

I have a room booked. The name´s Cambridge.

Uh, room 5, next to your friend,

Miss Revelle, as requested. If you´d like to sign there.

Hardly an auspicious start.

Well, the letters are coming to the theatre --

not the easiest of places to keep secrets.

Hmm.

Now, when you´ve got yourself settled in,

phone the local newspaper and try and find out

who talked about those letters, okay?

Meanwhile, I´ll introduce myself to Miss Revelle.

Inspector Crabbe.

Yes?

Mr. Fisher told me to expect you.

Come in.

Thank you.

You know, your threatening letters

have made headlines in the local papers?

Yes.

It won´t make things worse, will it?

Well, not to our potential assailant, no.

It may make him more cautious.

Hmm. I see.

Uh, have you mentioned these letters to a reporter?

I beg your pardon?

Well, it´s in all our interests if the press were not involved.

Uh, and now I´ve got to ask you

a rather obvious and boring question, I´m afraid.

Yes. No.

Inspector, I have no idea who should wish to harm me.

Any recent disagreements?

Not that I´m aware of.

Although, people who are contacted

don´t necessarily hear from my lips

what they would like to hear.

Well, if anyone springs to mind...

If only they would.

I can tell you, Inspector, I find this entire business

extremely unnerving.

I´m sure.

Look, uh, why not cancel the whole of the week?

I couldn´t possibly do that -- Too many people depending on me.

What, employees or customers?

Both, Inspector.

Oh.

How long have you been a medium?

Well, I was a librarian ´til two years ago.

I gather from Mr. Fisher

that you run a restaurant in your spare time.

And he highly recommended the steak and kidney pie.

I think I should try it one night.

Please do.

I must be going.

Detective Sergeant Cambridge is just opposite.

She´ll be keeping an eye out for you.

If you do want to leave the hotel, please let her know?

Have they got

the builders in next door?

I don´t think so.

Oh.

What´s this?

Late lunch.

I thought I might take you out tonight.

Out? What about the restaurant?

Steve reckons he can cope and John says he´ll do the bills.

Where are we going?

A show.

You are taking me to the theatre.

Henry, this is wonderful.

What are we going to see?

Henry...

Put your trust in Faith. It´s quite biblical, really.

Well, you know Freddy Fisher, he´d consult a sheep´s entrails

if he thought it would further his career.

But a medium?

She did get a result, Margaret -- God knows how.

Look, I´ve got to go backstage and see Cambridge.

I´ll meet you inside, all right?

All right.

I won´t be long.

Everything all right?

So far, sir.

Do we know who´s, uh, told the newspaper?

No, whoever rang the reporter wouldn´t leave a name.

Was it a man or a woman?

Couldn´t tell, sir.

Great. So what´s the situation here?

I´ve had a word with the stage doorkeeper.

No one´s ever seen the letters being delivered.

Is it worth putting someone on surveillance?

Waste of manpower, sir. Letters never arrive at the same time.

if she won´t cancel, we´ll have to have

a couple officers out there.

I have tried, but Miss Revelle

seems to think the audience might sense them --

put the punters off.

Not "punters," Cambridge --

they´re her public.

Which tonight,

thanks to Mr. Fisher, includes me.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the moment you´ve all been waiting for --

may I present Britain´s most gifted psychic medium --

Well, I didn´t think you´d want one.

Miss Faith Revelle.

Good evening.

Now we are cooking!

Table 3 are waiting for their vegetables.

Your mother seems quite distressed.

Is that possible?

Something to do with money?

Isn´t it always?

She seems quite unhappy.

Why would that be?

Don´t know.

She says that´s not true.

Is it ´cause of there being no will?

She said she always meant to make one.

She says you always knew that.

It´s basic police interviewing technique.

I told Marjorie mother wouldn´t like it.

Like what?

Us not giving the rest of the family anything.

Your mother wants you to put things right.

Prompting, echoing questions -- Any training P.C. could do this.

Shh!

She says...

that money was meant for all of you.

Trust us --

once you´ve shared the money, the pain will go.

Well, I think she was terrific.

What?!

There are 200 seats in that theatre.

That´s 200 people at £10 a time -- £2,000,

plus all the extra sale.

The show costs peanuts to put on.

You´ve got the rental of the theatre,

the rest is pure profit.

Miss Revelle´s big business.

Margaret, she´s exploiting innocent

and vulnerable people.

Well, I didn´t see anyone

dragged kicking and screaming onto that stage, Henry.

Not everyone´s quite as self-contained as you are.

Oh, come in, Mr. Crabbe.

Hello?

Hello.

Miss Revelle, I´d like you to meet my wife, Margaret.

- Oh. Hello. - Great show.

Thank you.

There´s been another letter, sir.

"Beware of false prophets,

"which come to you

in sheep´s clothing."

- Anyone see this arrive? - No.

Perhaps tomorrow, we can think again about a list

of possible suspects?

Why don´t you take Miss Revelle out on a picnic?

She doesn´t want to spend all her time

cooped up in that hotel.

Oh, Margaret, I don´t think Miss Revelle --

No, really. That would be lovely.

If it´s no trouble?

No, we insist.

After all, you got us tickets for tonight´s show.

It´s the least Henry can do.

Thought you didn´t want to go on this picnic?

I still don´t,

but I intend to enjoy the food when I get there.

Ugh, sweet is revenge -- especially to women.

Well, Margaret, anyway.

I think she thought I was going to take her to something

Sir Simon Rattle-ish.

Two dozen. Can you believe it?

Productivity´s soaring.

Eh?

Darling, you´re not still sulking, are you?

If the conversation flags,

get her to tell you your fortune.

I wanted to go and see Henderson today.

Well, take Miss Revelle with you.

Certainly not.

He´ll want to talk about potato futures.

There isn´t anyone trying to get through, is there?

Don´t worry, Inspector. I´ve taken the day off.

I´m having my calls rerouted.

Is there someone you want to talk to?

Why? Is there someone who wants to talk to me?

Is this some kind of test?

I don´t do party tricks, Inspector.

Besides, graveyards aren´t very good places

for picking up message -- too many crossed lines.

Hmm.

When did you decide to become a medium?

It isn´t something you choose.

I just am.

But, uh, have you always known

you´ve had these, uh, powers?

In a way.

I think for a long time, I tried to ignore them.

Well, that´s understandable.

Hmm, you´re very cynical.

What would you do if you heard voices in your head?

I´m not sure.

Go to the doctor... be labeled a schizophrenic?

Well, mercifully, I´ve never had the problem.

Tell me, what did you see on stage last night?

Some ridiculous female spouting Christmas cracker philosophy?

Is that what you believe?

I asked you. Is that what you saw?

Yes.

"Look not upon the wine when it is red" -- Proverbs.

Just a glance, surely.

Oh, please.

You know your Bible well.

My parents were very strict.

Does the responsibility

for what you do frighten you?

I merely decipher.

Well, yes, but anyone can receive information --

it´s how you interpret it that counts.

Tell me about the Madden case?

You must know?

Dr. Madden was viciously attacked.

No, no, no -- your part in it?

Oh.

One night, I saw two faces.

- Where? - In my mind.

Had you ever seen them before?

In the library the day after the attack,

´cause I was still working there then.

These boys -- whereabouts in the library were they?

The Reference section, I think.

Looking at medical books?

Consulting the pharmacopeia?

No.

Checking to see what drugs they´d nicked?

No.

I´m trying to find a rational explanation, you see.

You must have had a hard time

persuading Mr. Fisher to take you seriously?

No, not really.

He simply insisted that I didn´t tell the press.

Would have been wonderful publicity.

A man lay in hospital.

What sort of person do you think I am?

I don´t believe it. It´s doing it again.

What?

Separate --

My hollandaise sauce never separates.

Try it with a drop of cold water.

That usually does the trick.

Go on.

Nah, nah, there´s something wrong with the eggs

or the butter, or something like that.

I don´t know.

Oh, get it together, you poxy sauce!

We´re all friends here. There´s nothing to fear.

You and I know that no one is ever truly lost.

There´s been another letter, sir.

Anybody see it delivered?

No.

But Shane says he found it when he came in this afternoon.

"The wages of sin is death.

You have been warned."

Well, that´s interesting.

Sir?

Most people misquote this as, "The wages of sin are death."

Obviously, this is written by

someone who´s well-read or religious,

or both.

No news as yet, I´m afraid.

I´ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.

Yes...I know you will.

You know, you and Jim Shane

seem an unlikely partnership.

Well, it was all due to Jim I turned professional.

Oh, how´s that?

Well...I helped a few people locally.

Word got about, and Jim came to see me.

What, to contact someone?

Initially.

And then he signed you up right away?

Oh, Jim´s always believed in me.

And now, thank goodness,

it´s paying off.

♫ You make me holler... ♫♫

Six more since this morning.

It´s a miracle.

Hello, Pie in the Sky?

Oh, right.

Um, sorry.

Okay, bye.

There´s been a complaint.

We´re going to have to keep the noise down.

What noise?

I´d be careful, if I were you.

Remember what it´s doing to the chickens?

Well...

boxers, comics, psychic medium --

bit of a mixed stable?

What do you want, Crabbe?

Do you believe Faith Revelle has psychic powers?

It doesn´t matter what I believe.

No, no, no, no,

but, uh, do you?

Inspector...I make my money

between the client and the punter.

Faith makes hers between the living and the dead.

We´re just middlemen.

Same as you.

Yes.

Now...three years ago,

when Faith helped solve the Madden case,

she decided not to talk to the press.

Did you agree with that?

No.

So, why did you go along with it?

Faith would have left me.

She´d given her word.

And she is one of your more successful clients.

On the whole.

Bookings are down at next week´s venue.

But, uh, like I told Faith --

it´s a temporary blip, it´s nothing personal.

In your book, is any publicity good publicity?

Yeah.

And would that extend so far as sending her threatening letters

and informing the local paper?

Crabbe, if I were organizing a publicity stunt,

it would involve the national tabloids,

and very large checks.

Ah, it´s humiliating.

Oh come on, Steve, it can happen to anybody.

What if you´re missing something obvious

because you´re so frustrated with yourself?

It might not be the batter at all.

What if it´s the wrong sort of fat?

I only ever use beef dripping.

"Accept no substitutes," you said, and you´re right, Chef.

Well, what if it´s the heat?

Have you got it to the right temperature?

Yeah, I wait until I see a faint blue haze,

and then I stick the batter in it.

Yeah, and the cooking time?

Top shelf, 20 minutes.

Hmm, good, good. Well, that´s fair enough.

Ah, but whatever you do, don´t open the oven doors

for 10 minutes after you put it in.

Otherwise, the batter will just drop.

Yeah, I know that, Chef. I never do that.

I´ll just heat this pizza up.

Thanks.

If, on the other hand -- owing to circumstances

entirely beyond your own control --

the door is opened,

then just call them batter puddings,

and serve them with a thick onion gravy.

Mr. Fisher to see you, sir.

Ah, did he want to see a menu?

No.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

Yes, sir.

I´ve had Jim Shane on the phone using words like, "harassment."

He said you accused him of sending the letters.

That´s not true, sir. I was just prodding, that´s all.

This is a very delicate matter.

So I see, sir.

Let Shane alone!

Sir, Jim Shane has absolutely no intention whatsoever

of going public with this Madden case story,

if that´s what´s bothering you.

Just get Revelle through the week

without a major incident, will you?

Aren´t we getting all of this a little out of proportion, sir?

Other police officers have admitted

they have dealings with mediums.

I am not other police officers.

I´m Assistant Chief Constable of a modern force.

I use computers, criminal psychologists --

I don´t consult Gypsy Rose Lee

went I can´t crack a case. Is that clear?!

Yes, sir. Crystal.

Good evening.

I haven´t seen anything, but our usual crowd of cranks.

- How about you? - No, sir.

Remember, we´re all friends here.

There´s nothing to fear.

There´s a young kid getting up.

Male, 18 or 19.

No one´s ever truly lost -- simply hidden from view.

And tonight, we´re going to reach out,

and draw back that curtain.

If you´re so bloody good,

there´s someone I want to speak to.

What?

I said there´s someone I want to speak to.

What? I -- I can´t just --

I need to speak to someone.

I can´t guarantee anything.

I´ll risk it.

All right.

I´ll try.

Now...what´s your name?

Jez Leigh.

And who would you like to come forward, Jez?

Sally.

Sally...your girlfriend?

Has she been gone a long time, Jez?

Yeah.

Jez...Sally.

She´s here.

She´s here. She´s with us. Sally -- she´s with us.

Where?

She´s coming through now. She´s...happy.

She -- she wants you to know that she´s happy.

Ask her. Ask her why she did it?

Calm down, Jez.

It´s all right for her. I said, it´s all right for you.

What about me, eh, you´ve landed me right in it.

You know that, it´s a mess -- a bloody mess.

What am I supposed to do?

Ask her.

Go on, ask the stupid bitch.

Jez, we´ll lose her!

Wait for my signal.

You -- you said you loved her.

That was before.

Sally´s saying she loves you.

Jez, why are you doing this? You´re spoiling everything.

She´s the one that wrecked it.

How can she rest knowing you´re so upset?

She can´t bear to see you like this.

She shouldn´t have died.

She did. Forgive yourself. It wasn´t your fault.

What?

Don´t you understand? It wasn´t your fault.

She wouldn´t say that.

It´s all lies! Do you hear?!

It´s got nothing to do with you! Nothing!

You shut it! Shut it! You know nothing!

You know nothing! Nothing!

You hear me?! Nothing!

Are you all right?

Yes, I´m fine.

- Are you sure? - Yes. Thank you.

What should I tell the audience?

The show´s over.

No. Just give me a minute. Ask them to be patient.

Maybe if I offer them tickets for another night?

I´ll be fine.

Have you ever seen Jez Leigh before?

No, never.

Right.

She okay?

I´m Detective Inspector Crabbe.

This is Detective Sergeant Cambridge.

We´ve been expecting you.

I didn´t write any letters.

Why did you come here tonight?

To talk to Sally.

It was to attack Miss Revelle, wasn´t it?

No.

What if we hadn´t have stopped you -- you´d have killed her.

No, course not. So I shouldn´t have pushed her,

but she wound me up.

Is that why you sent threatening letters to the stage door?

What flaming letters?

How did she wind you up, Jez?

Over Sally.

What about the power of prayer, Jez?

Eh?

"O death, where is thy sting?

O grave, where is thy victory?"

Come again?

The presence of God, Jez -- the comfort of his words.

People like you make me sick.

People like what?

Okay, if God´s so bloody marvelous, how come Sal´s dead?

You ever been in trouble before, Jez?

Yeah. All right.

A couple of convictions for dipping.

But that ticket tonight was legit.

And not the wages of sin?

Well?

Leigh didn´t send those letters.

You sure?

Positive.

Something´s troubling him, but whatever it is,

it´s got nothing to do with Miss Revelle.

What on earth keeps disturbing them?

Urban fox on the prowl, sir?

Oh, Cambridge!

Sir?

Hmm. Henry Crabbe´s very own eggs Florentine.

Ah, Florence.

Now, there´s a city.

Have you ever been there?

No, always wanted to. Maybe after the book launch.

Well, whatever else you do -- insist on a wild boar salami.

It´s wonderful. Thank you, John.

Now, does Jim Shane

take a percentage of your book sales?

Yes. He negotiated the fee.

Ah, so, he could have sent those letters?

Why on earth should he?

Well, publicity --

something to feed the hacks,

like the one who tipped off the man at the local paper.

Oh, you think Jim was responsible for that?

No. Absolutely not.

No, I think you tipped them off.

Because you were worried

about the bookings being down at your next theatre.

It was you that talked

to them, wasn´t it?

It was just business, Mr. Crabbe.

We may as well get something useful

out of those awful letters.

Is there anything else you think I ought to know?

- Excuse me? - Yeah?

Um, do you skate here every day?

Of course.

Oh, yeah, what´s the going rate for 60 seconds in?

Couple of quid.

A couple of quid? That´s £120 an hour!

It´s a seller´s market.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Uh, now,

apart from the postman, have you seen anybody

delivering letters to the stage door here?

Why?

Uh -- I´ll ask the questions, you do the answers.

Don´t tell me. You do this for a living, right?

Jimmy´s your man.

Who, Jimmy?

Oscar´s Burger Bar.

Jimmy´s the one with the ring through his nose.

Oscar´s Burger Bar. Ring through his nose.

It will be there, okay? Thank you.

I need some information, Jimmy.

I´m interested in special deliveries

to the stage door at the theatre this week.

Letters?

I don´t do anything

that ain´t legit.

No, it´s understood.

Yeah, I delivered a couple.

Who for?

A woman.

Have you got a description?

She was, uh, you know, medium height, short hair.

Age?

Getting on a bit... like the same as you.

Um, clothes? Wedding rings?

Light mac.

Oh, yeah, and this, uh, medallion thing.

Wh

Right.

Oh, Miss Revelle.

I need to see Inspector Crabbe immediately.

She won´t say what it´s about,

and she really is in a terrible state.

- Is that so? - Mm-hmm.

Oh, thank God. This case in the paper...

What case.

Um, the missing girl. I know who´s responsible.

No, no, no. Stop, stop. Miss Revelle.

You must just trust me, Inspector.

You really are a most remarkable woman.

Thank you.

Not content with sending yourself threatening letters --

What?

now you want to trespass on another family´s grief.

To be followed, I suppose,

by a press conference at the gravesite.

I ought to do you for wasting police time.

I don´t understand.

Look, if I find out that you´ve approached

that dead girl´s family,

if you´ve pestered them in any way,

I shall see that you face serious charges.

Good day.

Another dozen.

A souffle then, Chef, eh?

- Whatever! - Henry?

What?

Don´t take it out on the rest of us.

I´m sorry. Making bread usually helps.

I´m just so angry!

I´m angry with me, I"m angry with her.

Even if I didn´t believe it, you´d think she could.

I mean, even if she didn´t believe it herself,

at least she´d be motivated by a desire to help people.

So she lied about the letter?

Exactly. She lied.

Well, maybe she didn´t lie about anything else?

Well, how would anybody know?

Henry, it´s a case.

Fisher asked you to solve it, you solved it.

No. I got it wrong, Margaret.

I thought she was one of the good guys.

Pie in the Sky?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, hang on. It´s for you, Chef.

Will you take a message? I´m busy.

Well, it´s Cambridge. She said it´s important.

Uhh!

What do you want?

April Reynolds --

apprehended by the stage doorkeeper,

10:40 A.M., delivering an anonymous letter.

Addressed to Miss Revelle?

Correct.

Did she send the other letters?

- Yes. - Did she say why?

Deeply religious, apparently.

She considers disturbing the dead

a punishable sin, at least... before the day of judgement.

What have I done, Cambridge?

I´m afraid Miss Revelle´s gone out.

Do you know where she´s gone?

No, sorry.

But she did ask to see a telephone directory.

Mm-hmm...what was that paper she was waving around?

Barstock Gazette, sir.

Thanks.

"Body identified as Sally Davis."

Sally..."Sally loves you, Jez."

That´s it. She´s going to see Jez Leigh.

You said yourself,

you didn´t think Leigh would deliberately harm Miss Revelle.

The boy´s unstable.

Besides, that was before I had him down as a possible murderer.

- Hello, Jez. - Get out of here.

I know about Sally.

- I´ll break your foot. - Please?

You´re messing about.

Don´t you think you ought to listen to what I have to say?

29, 30, 31, 32, 35. Here it is.

When´s that backup due?

Oh, about five minutes.

Right, I´ll go through the front,

you do round the back, all right?

So what do you want?

I´m just here to help. I want to talk to you.

I´m just here to help.

You can´t help me.

You all right?

- Mr. Crabbe? - What are you doing here?

Look, you know you wanted to talk to someone.

That´s why you go to the theatre last night.

No, just wait a minute, Mr. Crabbe.

Tell us.

Sally?

You can just tell us.

Sally Davis.

She´s very pretty -- Sally.

You must have had a good time together.

Yeah. She was wild.

Always larking about.

Why didn´t you tell anyone she was your girlfriend?

I´ve got previous, right?

Her Dad would have kicked up a storm.

Must have been exciting meeting in secret?

Sally thought it was great.

When you said, she loved larking about --

what do you mean?

Stood on the edge of the quarry --

that sort of thing.

Gave me a buzz.

And what happened

on that last night?

Tell us.

It´s easier to talk.

She´d had a couple of cans of...a smoke.

Nothing.

Only, she was there,

and she...

Go on.

I saw her panicking, trying to get back...

screaming out.

And there were stones

rolling down -- big stones.

What did you do?

I waited.

What for?

For the tape to rewind, you know?

Her back on the edge giving me a buzz.

I thought...

"If I don´t move, it´d be all right."

How long did you stay there?

I don´t know.

But later --

you went down later?

Yeah.

And what about Sally?

Sally won´t mind

if you tell us.

Her neck was twisted funny, and there was blood.

And, uh, her eyes kept staring.

Was she still alive, Jez?

I told her to stop mucking about.

I kicked her. But she died.

So, then you buried her?

I´ve got a record.

I knew what you´d think.

Nothing´s gone right since.

Stupid, crazy bitch.

- Morning. - Morning, sir.

I like coming in person

to familiarize myself with the scene.

It´s a good day´s work, Crabbe.

Two for the price of one, eh?

Well, sort of, sir, yes.

I said the writer of those letters

was a religious crank, didn´t I?

Yes, indeed, you did.

Organize a press conference for this afternoon.

Getting a result on the Sally Davis body

within 24 hours is tremendous value.

It´s wasn´t exactly my collar, sir.

Whose then? Cambridge?

No.

It was, uh, Miss Revelle, sir.

Reve--

She didn´t have a...

Vision, sir? Yeah.

Containment exercise, Crabbe.

I´ll handle the press. You deal with Miss Revelle.

Right.

I owe you an apology.

Funny thing is I´m grateful to you.

Me

When you walked out this morning, it was down to me.

I couldn´t just pass the information on

and let someone else deal with it.

I made a bad mistake there.

You were the one

who pointed out that Jez Leigh had something else on his mind.

Well, that´s just about all I did.

Not exactly.

If I´m honest, up ´til now I´ve never been really certain

whose voice I was hearing.

Does it matter?

To me. Very much.

With Jez Leigh,

it was different.

How?

Even before today, I sensed Sally Davis´ story.

I heard her so clearly.

You never said anything.

You´re an old cynic, Henry Crabbe.

No, no, no, not at all.

No, I happen to think you´ve got

some of the most important abilities a detective can have.

What?

Well, the ability to listen

and the strength and conviction to follow your instincts.

Thank you.

Abilities I so miserably failed to put into practice myself.

Oh, I don´t agree.

You said something far more important than that.

What´s that?

Having the guts to admit you were wrong.

You sure you wouldn´t like me to drive you to the door, sir?

Absolutely. This is perfect.

Okay. Bye, sir.

Bye-bye, Cambridge.

♫ Partyin´ to the place, let´s go ♫

"Dweeb Divine´s Greatest Remix."

I do apologize.

What is this?!

Uh, some scratch ´n mix.

Scratch ´n mix.

And what was it doing playing in the hen house?

Egg productivity, Henry.

Would you care to elaborate on that, Margaret?

Those chickens didn´t know the meaning

of the word "work."

Definitely chilled out.

Chilled out?

And how is this supposed to help?

Well, we thought a bit of in-house techno-dance music

would get ´em going a bit more than that boring Elgar.

Boring Elgar?

And before you get elitist about this, Henry,

it´s been a great success.

Productivity´s trebled.

But at what cost?

What do you mean, at what cost?

Steve?

How many of those Hollandaise sauces failed to mix?

Uh, three, Chef.

Three -- that´s three dozen eggs, right?

And how many of those Yorkshire puddings

failed to rise, apart from acts of Pizza Woman?

- Uh, about 24? - About 24.

Three dozen, two dozen, five dozen eggs wasted,

all gone to waste --

not to mention the wear and tear on my peace of mind.

See, Margaret, stressed out chickens lay stressed out eggs.

Happy and contented chickens lay happy and contented eggs.

Eggs that go wobbling up to olive oil and say,

"Let´s make mayonnaise."

It´s a well-known fact.

Quality is nearly always sacrificed

when it comes to quantity.

Except in your case, Henry.

Except in -- Oh, shut up.

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