Original subtitles

On a mission, are we?

-This town deserves a better mayor.

Hey, Tom. -Hello, Jenny.

Council meeting, Barnaby?

Not like you.

-Mr. Dalgleish. Lady Matilda!

Lovely day!

-I don't think so.

All right, darling?

HICKS: What's he doing here?

Have you been opening your stupid mouth?

That's Hugh Dalgleish down there.

Do you know him? -He called me a peasant once.

Did he? -Lady Matilda' s not much better.

Thinks she owns the whole village.

She does.

Jenny!

-Oh, lovely to see you.

Oh, Det Sgt Jones, this is Mrs. Jenny Russell,

hotelier and member of our Chamber of Commerce.

Hello.

-Hello.

Hello, people.

Wh!

-Have you spoken to him about our right to roam?

Tell them to stay off my land.

LUCY: See? Threatening.

BARNABY: We have heard your complaints, Ms. Terry.

Det Sgt Jones, here,

has the matter well in hand.

HICKS: Thank you, Mary.

Trash.

HICKS: Right -- -Uh, I heard that.

Good morning, everyone. -Knock it off.

First up today, the Brighton agenda.

Hooray!

HICKS: Thank you, Harry.

Now, I must emphasize

that this Brighton reunion is not just an excuse

for a junket.

It's also a matter of history and gratitude.

-Rubbish.

During the war, when they were building Spitfires

on our doorstep, it was the good people of Brighton

who said to us, "Send us your young ones,

so they be not bombed by the enemy."

Hear, hear! -Absolute tosh!

And we celebrated that union between our towns

until certain incidents

put a bit of a dampener on the events.

They tried to murder us!

That's not true.

Anyway, in a spirit of conciliation,

the Brighton council have offered us the chance --

Here we go.

To purchase some inexpensive land along the coast,

in order that we may build some holiday cabins

for the less fortunate of Causton.

WOMAN: Well said. -MAN: Jolly good.

And I hope to finalize that deal on our memorial trip.

Not a chance! -All right, Matilda.

The people of that town are barbarians.

They were barbarians when my ancestors conquered them

and they are barbarians still.

And, as head of the Finance Committee,

I am refusing to sign anything,

so there.

Be done with it.

WOMAN: Ugh!

MAN: Ah!

JONES: So much for the mayor's deal.

BARNABY: Hmm.

Barnaby.

It's John. -Oh, John!

Thanks very much for calling back.

It's been far too long. I got your email.

What can I do for you? -This land deal

that's going down between the two councils.

I checked it out. It looks kosher.

It's a bit of soggy council land.

It's only good for temporary dwellings.

Why not use it for cabins for your kiddies?

-Jones.

Our Mayor Hicks wouldn't get out of bed in the morning

unless there was

some profitable fiddle involved.

Which bridle path, Mr. Terry?

This isn't personal, is it, Tom?

No, no, no. This is preventative detection.

Okay. I'll dig a little deeper.

Right, okay. -Thank you, John.

-I'll try and find him, sir. -I'll be there in an hour.

Dalgleish and the Terrys, again.

Well, you're just the man to sort it out.

Sir.

Giles Shawcross.

Midsomer Parva.

Oh, God. The Reverend Doom And Gloom.

Hello, Reverend!

What a lovely day. I hope you're enjoying it.

Hello, Marcia.

Lady Bracknell home, is she?

I believe Matilda's expecting you.

Jolly good.

You be careful.

Don't crack a smile, or anything.

You really are the devil's work, aren't you?

Pas devant, old thing, pas devant.

My son hasn't communicated, in any acceptable way,

for many, many years.

Well, he will now, won't he?

The king is dead. Long live the king.

Ha ha ha.

And you have a conscript, a volunteer, for this task?

Absolutely.

All we have to do is come up with the catalyst.

I'll leave that to you, shall I?

It's wrong.

My God would say it's wrong.

Just as well you own His church, then.

Even if you can't afford His roof.

SHAWCROSS: It's television, you know.

It's all ugly, violent people screaming at each other.

Appalling role model, hence, the vandalism

the threatening behavior, the breakdown of society.

-Yes, I'm sure you're absolutely right,

but to matters more pressing.

-Oh, sorry. Once I get going, you know.

Come through. -Thank you.

SHAWCROSS: See? Not very clear.

Do you think it's one of those...hoodie chaps?

That's the wrong sort of hood, Giles.

-Oh.

Have you got CCTV inside the church?

-No, Matilda didn' t want people spying on her at her devotions.

There have been four of these now, pinned up out there.

Virtual death threats. Very unpleasant.

This one, regarding Hugh Dalgleish,

the property fellow, says he's "in league with the devil."

Probably the mayor.

It was a joke, Giles.

Oh. Then, there's this one,

accusing Lady Matilda and Marcia

of having a "vile and unnatural relationship".

That's a bit of a stretch.

Ridiculous. Finally, last night's letter,

claiming that Jenny Russell from the hotel is

"The whore of Babylon".

All of them saying these people will be "cleansed,"

and signed with a cross, a crucifix.

Or a sword.

That could be a sword, couldn't it?

Yes, I suppose it could be.

You said there were four of these letters.

The first one was about me.

I threw it away.

I didn't realize it was the first of a series.

What did it say?

Oh, nothing much,

just generally abusive and threatening.

It probably came from the bishop.

-So is there anyone you could, you know, point the finger at,

any disturbed medievalists in your flock?

No ideas at all.

LUCY: We were just exercising our legal right to roam.

JONES: You mean, winding him up, as usual.

TRENT: This has been a public right-of-way since Norman times.

JONES: Okay, okay.

Whoa!

LUCY: It's like that "Space Odyssey" thing.

[Richard Strauss' s "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" plays ]

Bill, you know what? This is so boring.

I'm trying to run a business here!

Bill -- Bill, look, I know where you are

and I know where your little tart works.

Hey, Tom.

Jenny!

Yeah, and I'm coming to get the pair of you.

Do you understand? Yeah, you should be worried.

I'm bloody serious!

Oogh! Fifteen years, to build this place up

and then he goes and blows it, all for some little tart.

Yes, I heard. -I'm going to go down there

on this council trip; I'm going to kill the pair of them.

That's quite understandable.

-I mean, how long does sex take up in your life, Tom,

half an hour a week,

once a month?

Please, may I have a cup of tea?

Very good, Tom, very good.

"The whore of Babylon".

I might put it on my Web site. Could crank up business a bit.

-Do you know anyone who's got a grudge against you?

It could be any of the women round here.

Since Bill left, their grubby husbands

all try and park their tanks on my lawn.

In fact, I'd be better off if I ran this place

as a knocking shop.

You'd be a wonderful madam.

Freebies for coppers, of course.

Oh, how public-spirited. In the meantime,

could you have a look through your little black book,

see if there' s anyone you think might dislike you enough

to write this stuff?

Tom.

Mm

Are you coming to Brighton with us?

I'm in a bit of a mess. I need a friend right now.

What sort of a mess?

-It's...personal.

That's not really my area.

[Guns engine, tires screech]

New boyfriend?

We need to talk.

Hi, Marcia.

You're pushing your luck, aren't you?

If she doesn't see sense, the whole town will suffer.

We have Richard with us every day.

She can't just pretend it didn't happen.

That was a long time ago, for God's --

[Reloading, cocking shotgun]

Oh, my God!

You've done it this time! I'm going to go to the law!

[Reloading, cocking shotgun]

Thank you, Mr. Dalgleish;

thank you very much for your cooperation.

BARNABY: No, that's all right; I'll hold, thank you.

-He's put these huge concrete blocks

across a public right-of-way and refuses to move them.

Dalgleish bought up the street the Terrys have their shop in

and he bunged up the rent so much,

the Terrys started to become -- how shall I say? --

less scrupulous about the stuff they were selling.

Well, maybe I should come on this trip, keep an eye on them.

No, you shouldn't. You should stay at home.

Hold the line. Officer in charge.

Tom. -Oh, John!

STEPHENS: Check that out. -Listen, I really would like

to have a look at the land in question, please,

and I would also like, if you can get it for me,

a look at the file on Richard William.

Call it political leverage.

You know what Mum always said?

Well, yes, your mum was right, I am a total pain in the bum,

but I'm older than you are, John,

and certainly wiser, so hard luck.

Well, I'll bow to your seniority.

I'll see what I can do. -Thank you.

Yeah.

My cousin.

Ah, the William family, they go back forever.

So does ours, just not in a fat book.

So we're off to Brighton, are we?

-Yes, we are.

All rock, candy floss, and fun on the pier, whee-hee!

You'll see John. -Yes, yeah, I will.

And Jenny Russell.

I'm sorry?

-At the tennis club, the women were talking about

who they'd most like to be stuck with on a desert island.

Most of them went for Kyle, the organic butcher,

but Jenny Russell chose you,

the organic policeman.

Oh.

So you just watch yourself.

Oh.

-Yes, yes, I'm coming!

JOYCE: Good Lord.

I want Matilda arrested! She just tried to kill me!

Shotgun! Could've took me head off!

A tragic outcome.

Will be, if you don't sort her.

Get her to see sense, or I'll insist

on doing her for attempted murder.

What you have to understand, Barnaby, is historical context.

-I think the only thing that I have to --

Marcia, would you please stop

that damned noise?

So, William the Conqueror, what do you know about him?

Uh, 1066, Battle of Hastings.

-Oh, not just Hastings.

The French had to subjugate all the people

along the South Coast to cover their rear

and who do you think was in charge of the mopping!

Sir Richard Guillaume.

-Well done!

Guillaume -- French for "William" --

my late husband's direct ancestor

and a fine fellow who was also quite ruthless,

as one has to be, with barbarians.

Yes, if I could just um --

-His Sword of Guillaume, as his weapon became known,

took many Anglo-Saxon lives and came to symbolize everything

that the English hated about the French, yes?

-Yes, I'm -- -So! Naturally, when,

20 years ago, my son, Richard, a direct descendent

of this fine warrior, appeared in Brighton,

scene of Guillaume's greatest butchery,

the local natives conspired to attack him,

leaving him as you see him now and ending our family line.

Not white-on-white, Marcia,

for goodness' sake!

Lady Matilda, can I get this correct, please?

You're saying that your son's injuries

were caused by a revenge attack

for something that happened almost a thousand years ago?

-Absolutely.

Your average Englishman is a very primeval creature,

which is why I'm having none of this "chummy-chummy,

let's make friends with the murderers" nonsense.

What you need there

is some Zephirine Drouhin.

Uh, Lady Matilda?

A random mugging, for his watch and his wallet,

that's what was decided, at the time.

-Fiddlesticks! Revenge, Barnaby, revenge!

The police down there got it all wrong.

-Well, as it happens I, myself, was never happy

with the conclusions of the Brighton officers.

It all seemed a bit too pat, to me.

Hmm.

But, of course, as a junior officer, which I was,

at the time, my opinion carried but little weight.

I'd love to do some digging for you, but, of course,

if the Brighton trip doesn't happen --

-Are you trying to co

Lady Matilda, do you know

how many firearms regulations

you contravened yesterday?

-Goodness, you are.

I think we have allied interests.

The Hicks man,

have you got him in your sights?

Ahh.

All right?

Matilda!

So glad you saw the light.

Hello, the Terrys.

All set?

-Yeah. Thanks for setting it up.

Yeah. Thanks comes with 50% of the profits.

Sorry. I forgot my cassock.

MARCIA: If you could just give me a hand.

Whoopsie daisy.

You'll catch a chill.

-Morning, Dave.

MARCIA: Careful.

You're not on the list.

-Police liaison.

All set?

Sweet as. You hardly need come.

Always stay near my money.

And, Dave, if it goes wrong this time,

it won't just be your wife that gets shafted.

She didn't like you, you know! My wife.

-I should hope not.

I'd hate to have slept

with a total nutter.

Righty-ho!

Lovely to see you all here.

We'll be taking a short comfort break in Crawley,

in deference to the pensioners' prostates,

and then it's on to Brighton for shopping and sightseeing,

followed by tea and mayoral reception at the Pavilion.

Now, remember, we are all ambassadors for Causton

and I know I can rely on --

Oh, do be quiet, you tedious little man.

Driver, drive.

I've always had a bit of a thing about Brighton.

It sort of says --

well, something to everyone.

-Oh, yes.

When I was a boy, I went on the ghost train.

Ah.

Learnt all about the fear of God then, I can tell you.

Oh, well, we'll give that a go, then, eh?

Hey, fancy a bit of fun among the spooks, eh?

Have you ever been really terrified?

-Not until now, Giles.

Ugh!

A couple of years ago, the governor

suspected Mayor Hicks of a dodgy property deal,

so he' s kept this file on him -- complaints, mainly --

wants me to search for anything interesting.

-He's obsessed!

No, just sick of petty corruption downtown.

And obsessed.

You're not really going to

attack your husband, are you, Jen?

-Nah, I'm just going to give him an earful.

Everything all right, your end?

Yes, fine. What's the matter?

Oh, there's this bloke who's decided to join us.

I mean, nothing serious; I just don't want

any complications -- I thought you might be able

to get him out the way, somehow.

Yeah!

HICKS: Right-ho, everyone,

how about a nice, bracing stroll

on the pier, along the front,

or a bit of shopping in the Lanes?

MARCIA: I'll just get my coat.

HICKS: Remember: on the coach by 12:00

for the short ride to the reception!

Yes, lovely, isn't it? Yeah, yeah.

A bit blustery, but we don't mind that, do we?

Oh!

-Fun pier, I think.

You don't have to strangle me.

-Oh, sorry, madam.

John! -Tom.

How are you doing? You're looking well.

I just had a call from our lady mayoress,

asking if I might show you the site.

How convenient.

Hop in. -Thank you; thank you.

-And remember: he' s an old man, so, take it easy.

TERRY: Don't worry.

Yeah, well done, girl. Your bloke just took him off.

Yeah, just got to keep the balls in the air a bit longer,

then, once the deal goes through,

I thought we might pop down to my Spanish place

for a bit of a celebrate. Yeah.

TRENT: What number?

LUCY: Number three.

TRENT: Here we are.

Mr. Wakely? -Yes.

Your daughter asked us to drop by.

Who?

Your daughter, madam mayor,

she sent us.

She's the mayor, you know.

And she said you had some things

you'd like to show us.

Have I?

May we come in?

Would you like to come in?

Well, it's lovely. Why is it so cheap?

-It floods. The sea comes in down there.

Local conservationists want to abandon

the sea defenses altogether, so that the whole place

goes under and becomes a wildlife reserve.

So where they going to build these holiday chalets, then?

Along the high side, I guess.

Couldn' t put any solid buildings there -- they' d sink.

Uh-huh.

-I can't see his angle, meself.

Is he up for reelection?

Maybe it's just a vote-catching exercise.

BARNABY: Hmm. Or maybe it isn't.

JOHN: Oh, I got you the Richard William file.

-Good man.

SHAWCROSS: That ruined pier says a thousand things.

Like what?

-Well, the futility of man's efforts

at self-aggrandizement, moral decline.

It says the pier burnt down.

Good God, no wonder the church is empty.

Now, go and find Marcia and tell her I want a cup of tea.

This is the best one.

Basket-hilted broadsword.

With a crest and two scabbard mounts.

And an infantry officer's battle dress sword,

made by Prosser of Charing Cross in 1803.

Probably saw Waterloo.

Hmm, I bet it did.

What was it Christine wanted me to do?

She wanted us to have them

officially valued for you.

For free.

Good idea.

You can never be too careful.

TRENT: Dead right.

DOUGLAS: Tea.

SHAWCROSS: Excuse me.

Lady Matilda would like a cup of tea.

JENNY: It's just so sad.

So, let's cheer him up.

Um, ahem, I have to

get Matilda a cup of tea.

I wonder if you wouldn't mind

keeping an eye on Richard for me.

JENNY: Of course. -No problem.

Hello, Dicky boy.

MAN: One latte and one cappuccino, then, please.

MARCIA: One tea, please.

WOMAN: There we are.

This file's been altered, after the initial interviews.

-How do you work that out?

Well, these two pages, look. See?

Different typeface, different typewriters.

This page has been retyped.

-It's a bit of a leap.

The SIO on this case --

-DCI Jim Harper.

I'd love to have a look at his daybooks, written diaries.

He's retired; he's gone off to the Costa del Coppers.

Has he? Could you give him a ring?

Gran always said you were a bit of a terrier.

Drink your tea.

Dear God.

-"Thank you, Marcia" would've been nice.

Do you have faith, Mr. Hicks?

Yeah, in meself.

-Oh, that's interesting, you see, because --

Giles, I'm busy. Yes, Dave.

-Oh, yes, of course, busy.

Everyone's busy, these days.

Fun fair for me, then.

Yes.

Something real.

-Just one more, George.

JENNY: Marcia!

Marcia! Quick, come here, it's Richard! Quick!

I don't know what the matter is.

-Richard. Richard!

Stop. What's happened here?!

Better get him another nappy.

You are despicable, man!

What? -Truly despicable!

-It's all right, Richard.

It'll be fine. -Bye-bye.

Come on. It's all right.

Let's go do the ghost train, then.

I don't want to go anywhere with you.

I don't like you.

Nobody does, darling. That's the joy of being me.

I'll go frighten the ghosts on my own, then.

Didn' t Hicks' s cowboys screw up the guv' s roof repairs?

Well, maybe that's what's driving his tram on this one.

No, this is him, doing his moral bit.

Oh.

Revenge is just a byproduct.

Aah!

Aah!

HICKS: Right, everybody off. That's it.

This way, George.

Weather's looking up, Matilda,

so if you'd like to -- right.

Everyone, everyone, down. That's about all of us.

That's it.

Mr. Mayor, what a pleasure.

-Madam Mayor, it's my pleasure.

Allow me to introduce you to the members of our council --

Welcome to Brighton. -And Chamber of Commerce.

Christine will be chairing the proceedings.

-Giles, how was the ghost train?

Oh, as always:

dark, godless, and reassuringly hellish.

-That's our local optimist.

Hey.

-Jenny!

What have you done with Hugh Dalgleish?

-He's nothing to do with me.

I'm going to go shopping. Do you want to come buy a hat?

-What about the reception?

Oh! Too boring.

And I have another agenda. Do you remember?

-Hey, Jenny, don't do anything silly.

That's Jenny.

She runs a very nice hotel.

She' s going through a bad patch, you know, private life.

MAN: I do like making my own arrangements, but the choir --

MAN: Bells, gas masks. This is the best.

Now, for instance, this is a pretty extraordinary bit of --

SHAWCROSS: Really?

MAN: Oh, our eyes were popping out like stalks -- Oh.

MAN: Over here, please. Look this way.

Could you all just...? Over here.

We should go.

JOHN: Your boy certainly looks shifty enough.

BARNABY: And your girl, is she all right?

Very nice. Popular, too.

HICKS: Silence. Silence, please.

Your host, her worship, the mayor of Brighton.

WAKELY: Thank you,

Mr. Mayor.

I won't keep you all long.

I just wanted to draw your attention

to the program of events and to say

how delighted we are to revive the tradition

of the Causton-Brighton reunion

and to see so many of the youngsters here today.

Come along. Hotel.

I'm also

very happy to welcome

the Causton Chamber of Commerce to our city,

and hope that the contacts and friends they make here

will result in further social

and economic exchanges between our two communities.

So you all have a splendid time

and, for those of you who enjoy a good laugh,

we have our annual comedy festival

at various venues --

I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen.

Is Det Chief Insp Barnaby here?

We' ve had to close the pier. In this town, that' s sacrilege.

It's a right bloody mess.

And he's not looking too chipper, either.

-He's certainly somewhat diminished.

Is this one of your lot?

Yeah, that is -- was -- Hugh Dalgleish.

-That's his weekend, right down the Swanee.

So, starting with the obvious.

did this Dalgleish have any enemies?

-God! John, he had only enemies.

So he won't be missed?

-Heh, no. There'll be dancing in the streets.

Log it as a shaving accident, then.

Can I ask you a few questions?

Barnaby.

This has got to be contained.

This could screw up a very good deal for our town.

Hicks, was Hugh Dalgleish involved in your...deal?

Oh, come on. As if!

This was legit council business.

Then why was he here?

-Bit of a jolly, I suppose. Him and Jenny Russell.

Really?

Not disappointed, are you?

JOHN: Pathology's initial says it looks like

a clean swipe with a very sharp blade.

I'm rounding up all our local Samurai nutters.

Did you bring any crazies with you?

-Only the usual.

Where would you go to buy a hat round here?

Yes.

It's lovely, madam, really suits you.

-Jenny.

Ah, Tom! What do you think, "My Fair Lady," or what?

Jenny, could I have a word, please?

-Hmm, too tarty.

Jenny, sit you down.

This is Det Chief Insp John Barnaby

from Brighton CID; he's my cousin.

Oh, goodness me, keeping it in the family.

Nice to meet you, John.

So what is it?

Hugh Dalgleish has been killed.

Murdered.

On the pier.

Well, that's terrible.

What was your relationship with Mr. Dalgleish?

I knew him.

Nothing more, Jenny?

No.

Well, not for a long time.

Hang about.

I thought I'd find you here!

I knew, if I waited long enough, you'd turn up!

BILL: What are you doing?

JENNY: You' ve ruined my business and you' ve ruined my life!

And, as for you, you should find a man of your own.

Did he not tell you that he was married?

BILL: Ah! Jen!

Come back.

Anyone you knew?

There you are, sir.

-Aha, yes! Thank you.

Enjoy your meal. -Very nice, Sarge.

Well, he' s off, having a jolly. Why shouldn' t we have some fun?

The beauty of the mobile phone --

take the office with you.

Cheers. -Cheers.

I don't believe --

Sir.

Where the hell are you?

They said you'd gone out to lunch, for God's sake!

Just popped out for a sarnie, sir.

I can hear ducks. Oh, no, no.

Jones, I've got a murder down here.

Hugh Dalgleish: decapitated.

Do I have your full attention now?

Oh, right.

The Terrys -- see if they got back, would you?

They seem to have disappeared from down here.

Then go and talk to Perkins at the bank

and, look, take no nonsense from him, will you?

I want to know all about Dalgleish's finances,

especially any dealings he may have had

with Dave Hicks and/or Jenny Russell.

Someone murdered Hugh Dalgleish.

One lunch.

Sí, Jim Harper, policía inglés.

Policía Brighton, Inglaterra.

What?

Why didn't you tell me you spoke English?

Yes, that's very funny.

Okay, listen to me: you tell Jim Harper to call me,

DCI John Barnaby, ASAP -- oh.

Have you got a pen?

-I'm sorry, detective,

but my hands are tied.

It's the basic principle of the 1998 Act, I'm afraid.

Data must not be disclosed to other parties

without the consent of the individual whom it is about

and neither Mr. Hicks nor Mr. Dalgleish

have informed me of such consent.

Not that Mr. Dalgleish is likely to be so doing,

under the circumstances.

Why do you bother, Mr. Perkins?

I'm sorry?

This ridiculous runaround,

every time we come to you for information!

As I just stated, the Act says --

The Act says, in clear and massive print,

under Exceptions, Section 29: "Data processed

for the prevention or detection of crime,

the apprehension or prosecution of offenders,

or the assessment or collection of taxes

are exempt from the first data protection principle."

You know it by heart.

Yeah, and a lot of other basic statutes as well.

It saves time when dealing with recalcitrant or obstructive

lawyers, accountants, bank managers.

The law, Mr. Perkins, is like the Bible:

you can always find one quote to contradict another.

You really shouldn't talk to me like that.

I haven't had any lunch.

SHAWCROSS: I was going to have the service here,

but I suppose I'm a bit superfluous now, as usual.

-Hugh Dalgleish.

Look there, see? 1069.

The original chapel on this site

was built by Richard de Guillaume,

umpteenth great-grandfather of our poor Richard.

Did Dalgleish ever visit your church?

-Only recently, to talk to Matilda.

What about?

-I don't know.

She was always on the lookout for cash for the church.

You see, the original Norman chapel

was burnt down by the locals.

They hated the Normans,

especially the Guillaume family.

It's all cyclical.

Goes around, comes around.

Goes around, comes around.

No one learns. No one cares.

-Jones.

Perkins at the bank said Dalgleish had a mortgage

on Jenny Russell's hotel.

She was into him for some serious money.

What about Dalgleish and Hicks?

He says that certain business accounts

can only be accessed through head office.

Well, that's nonsense. -I know.

Well, I need the information. Think laterally.

Yes, sir.

What about the Terrys? -Yeah, they're back home.

Well, I need to know who they met,

why they took off so quick,

and what was in their holdall.

Will do.

Do you know anyone at the bank?

Yes.

Good.

Mmm!

Tom, I left a message for Harper in a bar in Fuengirola.

-Look over there.

Is that Richard William?

-Twenty years on, yeah.

Poor lad.

"Relationship"!

I do not have relationships

with the likes of Hugh Dalgleish.

-But, lately, Lady Matilda,

you have been talking to him, haven't you?

And that,

quite frequently.

From whom have you heard this gossip?

A source.

As Giles well knows,

my church is in serious need of expensive repairs.

Dalgleish had money;

I was trying to extract some from him.

I could not stand the man.

Any particular reason for that?

Well, apart from the fact that he was

the most ghastly parvenu, he tried to have me removed

from the council, my own council.

He didn't.

Why did he do that?

I got wind of a dubious scheme

he was cooking up with that Hicks creature.

What was the scheme?

Lady Matilda, this is

Det Chief Insp John Barnaby from Brighton CID.

He's the senior investigating officer in this case.

Oh.

Are you all called Barnaby in the police?

Well, it makes life easier.

Well, I hope you people are more competent, these days.

We do our best.

Hicks and Dalgleish had acquired some land.

They were trying to push a change-of-use

through the council so that they could develop it.

And you stopped them?

I told Hicks that Dalgleish was sleeping with his wife.

Everyone else knew.

I thought it was most unfair he should be left in the dark.

It led

to a falling out between them, a collapse of their scheme,

and, of course, the end of the Hicks marriage.

Oh, right.

Now, don't be censorious, Tom.

That land is still home

to the bluebell and the buttercup,

not the hideous executive home.

Talk about a dinosaur.

-Yeah, we have one in every village, John.

They deter social change. -That one would deter evolution.

Hey, John!

That is it!

The deal, the scam. She just said it.

The little -- He's trying it on again.

You know that change

But that's floodplain down there; you can't build on it.

Could we have a little chat with your madam mayor?

-We do have a murder on, you know?

Yes, I know we do,

and we're looking for motives, aren't we?

Not just riding your mayor? -No, no, no-no-no.

But everything is linked, John. All rivers flow down to the sea.

-Oh, yes.

Let me lead, okay?

-Oh, yeah. Your town.

Glad you noticed.

Good to be here, John.

We don' t seem to have much luck with our Causton relationship.

Is there anything I can do to help, Chief Inspector?

Mayor Hicks: what do you know about him?

Well, he seems like a man who gets things done.

A bit, um, a bit fly, would you say?

I'm not sure what you mean by that.

Mayor Hicks has a bit of a name

for, um, putting together deals.

Yes?

Yeah.

Deals which will benefit Mayor Hicks slightly more

than they would benefit the community at large.

Well, he has no criminal record. I did check.

Why did you do that?

Why did you do that?

Common business practice.

I wouldn't want the council to get involved in something

that wasn't totally above board.

-Whose idea -- Sorry, John.

Whose idea was the land deal

between the two councils?

I don't recall.

I met Mr. Hicks

at a local-government symposium.

I rather think he floated the idea

and I looked at what we had on our books

that would accommodate his plans for the holiday cabins.

I came up with the Wandin Valley.

And, now, if you'll excuse me, I am very busy.

Oh, right, of course; thank you so much

for your valuable time, Ms. Wakely.

Always a pleasure.

Not at all.

I know what you're thinking.

I doubt it.

You're thinking I'm a great, big wuss

who can't stand up to women in authority.

No, I'm not; I'm sure there's a very good reason

for your groveling sycophancy.

And there it is.

Oh, look, there's your little chum, too.

It's a northern thing -- know how to operate a ferret.

Ha ha.

-Looks like they're having

a bit of a falling out.

Which means she either doesn't know

what she's let herself in for

or she's balling him out for bringing us down on her.

Either way, she' s too smart to go down with that sorry spiv.

I'll give her a nudge tomorrow,

when she's had time to sweat a bit.

Who is it?

Tom Barnaby.

Oh, well, I knew you fancied him.

What do you want?

Well, I don't want you going with anyone else,

that's for sure.

Oh, but it's all right for you to screw around, is it?

Look, when you went bananas out there today,

something in me kind of woke up.

"That is my girl," I thought.

"What am I doing, Bill?"

I've left her.

I've told her it's all over.

I want to come home with you.

Just like that?

Why not?

What do you say?

[Rain falls, thunder rumbles]

A sign.

Is that so much to ask for?

A token of your existence.

An acknowledgement of mine.

No, of course not.

Because you don't exist, do you?!

You're just not there.

Not for me, not for anyone.

We invented you.

You only live through us!

We are your witness.

Do you hear me?!

You're a figment of our imagination, our need.

You didn't create us!

We created you!

HICKS: All aboard! We're leaving now.

Last one on's a sissy!

-Hi, Giles.

God, you smell like a brewer's mare.

Hey, are you all right?

Just a little, for my nerves.

Well, sit by a window.

Hmm.

John!

I found Harper.

He faxed me his handwritten notes, taken at the time.

You'll find what you're after.

Thank you.

Chocks away!

JENNY: Wait for us!

Wait for us!

Good morning. I'm sorry I'm late.

Um, this is

my husband, Bill, who has decided that

he no longer wants to live with his little tart,

but would like to come home and live with his wife.

So what do we all think about that, then?

Isn't that lovely?

No, I didn't think so, either.

Ohh!

And if I ever see you in Causton again,

I will chop your bits off!

Righty-o, ding-ding, let's go!

Ah!

Oh, go on, give us a cuddle.

Now, don't tempt me.

MAN: Come on!

JONES: What are you doing?

-Removing an illegal obstruction.

It's not like Dalgleish is going to object, is it?

STEPHENS: That's not a very smart thing to say.

The man was a pest.

He deserved to be culled.

Why did you leave Brighton before being questioned?

We were busy. Shop to run, back here.

JONES: So why go, in the first place?

Business.

Our business.

How did you get back?

Hitched a ride on a passing camel.

You aren't helping yourselves.

And nor were you, when Dalgleish was ruining our lives.

Det Chief Insp Barnaby would like to know

what you had in the holdall

you were carrying to Brighton.

-Rhubarb.

Long sticks of rhubarb.

Listen,

messing me around is a mistake you will regret.

No, it's a statement of fact.

STEPHENS: What did you say?

-Get on to our favorite magistrate -- search warrant.

Six uniforms -- big blokes, big boots.

I'm sick of this.

PC: On the double yellows, then.

PC: Looks like it's been here a couple of days.

Ready to go, sir.

And they are at home. -Hang on a minute.

Slow down. They' re not going to go anywhere, just yet.

Now, George. -Brighton Forensics phoned.

Apparently, The cutting edge of the murder weapon

left traces of ferrous oxide on the neck wound,

which would suggest some kind of antique blade.

And what do you make of that?

-Well, absolutely no idea.

Well, that's very useful, isn't it?

Well, actually, it is useful.

Thank you, George!

Right, let's go!

Take this building. Check out his van.

Go help the others when you're finished.

BARNABY: Yes! With me.

JONES: You two, those buildings we passed on the way in.

You two, everything else.

Turn it over, boys!

PC: Down here. Come on, quick!

TRENT: What's all this about?

BARNABY: Oh, good morning. May we come in? Thank you!

You cannot do this.

-Lucy, this is a murder investigation.

You'd be surprised, what we can do.

Guv! -Yeah.

Jones!

Yes, sir.

-Whoo!

Oh, this is the bag they had in Brighton.

What's that? -Deliberately blunted.

Probably just ceremonial. Certainly not a murder weapon.

But, of course, we don't know that, for sure.

So, please, explain how you come to be

in possession of a murder weapon.

-That can't be. Really.

Looks like it.

-They're antique swords. We're antique dealers.

So why hide them?

They were stored, not "hidden."

Where did you get them?

Off a bloke.

Let's spell this out very clearly.

You've been bugging me for months about Dalgleish.

You were in the vicinity at the time of the murder.

You're in possession of a possible murder weapon.

Why did you hide the swords?

They were procured... differently.

Come on, spit it out.

An old man owned them.

JOHN: So you robbed him? -No.

Dave Hicks.

Dave...Hicks?

It's always Dave Hicks! Dave Hicks what?

-He put us on to 'em.

They belonged to that woman mayor's dad.

-Please, go on.

Dave had been round to the house

for meetings with that Mrs. Mayor,

you know, sort of off-limit meetings,

clocked the swords, saw that the old bloke was

a little bit doolally, reckoned,

if we nipped in there, we could maybe persuade him

to sell the swords cheaply.

Then we'd bung Dave a percentage

of any profits on resale.

Thank you.

-Right, let's go through that again, shall we?

A little gem, indeed, John.

I thought it might help you with your nudge.

It certainly will. I'll get right on it.

Cheers.

Stephens, what?

I got on to my friend Sarah at the bank.

We do Pilates together.

She accessed those accounts

the manager was being a bit slow on.

A policewoman who can circumvent the law.

Well done, you.

Well, now, there's a surprise.

Or not.

Chief Inspector, I really don't know

what you're talking about.

-Council agenda for next month.

Upcoming business:

traffic, housing, blah blah blah.

Then, right down here, in "other business" --

probably come up when everyone's tired

and just wants to go home -- a proposal to reinforce

sea defenses in the Wandin Valley.

Proposer? Ooh, look, her worship, the mayor.

So?

So, if you repair the sea defenses,

that land will no longer be floodprone.

Correct.

Making the land rocket in value.

But we won't own it.

No, but your friend Hicks will.

I don't see or like where you're going with this.

I think you should leave now.

You held meetings with Mr. Hicks

at your father's house -- is that usual?

It was convenient.

And Hicks took a bit of a shine to your Dad's antique swords.

Do you remember that?

Your poor, old dad was robbed yesterday.

A couple of Hicks's mates lifted his swords.

Apparently, Hicks put them up to it.

Now, there's a thing.

How can I help you, Chief Inspector?

BARNABY: £100,000?

Where'd you get this?

Hugh Dalgleish gave you £100,000

two weeks before he died.

-It was a loan to the council.

Private finance initiative

to help pay for the Brighton land.

No, it wasn't, Mayor Hicks, it was used for bungs

to vote for a scheme to reinforce

the sea defenses on your land.

And, now poor Mr. Dalgleish is dead,

he won't be asking for it back, will he?

And that, sir, to me, spells motive for murder.

You're crazy.

I'll get back to you, sir.

And may I suggest, Mr. Mayor,

you call your lawyer?

Christine?

Dave!

Barnaby's all over the place. You got to kill the trail.

Wipe everything. Dump the hard drive.

Talk to your iffy mates.

Tell 'em to keep schtum, otherwise,

I'll tell the whole world I bribed 'em.

I go down, they come with me.

Where does that leave me?

Same as always -- a good, honest citizen

helping the police whenever she can.

He wanted to take me to Marbella.

He's all class.

Say night-night to the family.

Grandpa William,

Great-grandpa William, William of Normandy.

Night-night!

Up the stairs to Bedfordshire.

William the Whig, William of Parva,

William of everywhere and everything.

SUE: You are cheeky.

Night-night, John. -Goodnight, Sue.

SHAWCROSS: Yeah. Yes.

JOHN: What's up with him?

Yes, I am very sorry.

I know you can't forgive me, but...

Yes, I will.

Yes, I will.

Goodnight.

So, how was your cousin?

John? Well, very good. Right stuff.

And?

And what?

And how was Jenny Russell?

Oh.

Not too good.

Things haven't been going, um, too well for her.

-Well, isn't she lucky,

to have friends who are so supportive of her?

-Yes. Yes, she is.

Yes.

Joyce --

Aaaaaaaah!

Aaaaah!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Want to move it back, John?

Probably the same murder weapon.

Definitely the same MO. -MAN: Easy does it, Terry.

Okay, Bill, let's hear it again.

This time, try a story we might find vaguely credible.

I just dropped by

to pick up a few things that were jointly owned.

Oh, yeah, like her jewelry and cash?

-I don't know how they got there.

Up.

-Open-and-shut, is it?

I don't think so.

JONES: Okay, mind your head.

Can you imagine the pain of crucifixion?

Hours and hours of agony, days.

Giles.

-I'm sorry.

I just find it all too --

-The anonymous letters.

You said the first one was addressed to you,

but you threw it away.

Yes.

And, please, don't tell me you can't remember,

because I still won't believe you.

-It suggested

I was gay.

I'm not.

I'm not anything.

Some people are sexual creatures;

some people aren't.

I have neither reaped nor have I sown.

How long have you known Richard William?

-I've been the unhappy rector of this parish for...two years.

That doesn't answer my question, does it?

What do you mean?

Was it pure coincidence that you came here as rector

or were you driven here

by your sense of guilt?

I was drawn here by God.

You, sir, took your degree in theology at Oxford.

You were a contemporary

of Richard William at Oxford.

Was I? Maybe.

-And you fell in love with him there, didn't you?

SHAWCROSS: Love.

What is love?

Is God love?

And the attack on Richard

in Brighton 20 years ago,

I've got the investigating officer's notes on that.

When Lady Matilda was mayor of Causton,

she took Richard along with her

as her escort on a Brighton trip

and you secretly met up with him there, didn't you?

-Yes.

BARNABY: But you had a falling out; you argued.

Am I right?

-Richard! -No!

Richard.

He...fell.

-The police thought it was a gaybashing,

but Lady Matilda would have none of that that,

no such slur on her family name,

so she bullied a Brighton police officer

into falsifying his findings.

Hmm. What were you fighting about?

Richard said he'd fallen in love with someone else.

Who?

He didn't say.

Oh. Write it all down, Giles, everything.

The truth, this time. Barnaby.

It's me. -Ah, John.

I've got the tape. Are you up for it?

Oh, yes. Well done, you.

Look, I'll do the paperwork and I'll see you there.

Take me about an hour.

So, what now?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

John!

Jones, this is Det Chief Insp John Barnaby, Brighton CID.

He's my cousin.

Heard a lot about you, sir.

I bet.

What now? I'm getting sick of this.

-David Hicks, we've come to arrest you.

Arrest? What for?

Bribing a council official.

What?!

-Conversation between you

and Christine Wakely, recorded yesterday.

We also have all your emails.

Entrapment!

Det Sgt Jones, would you care

to accompany the mayor to the station?

Oh, turn the freaking light off.

But he's no murderer.

-No. Hasn't got the balls.

Are you sticking around, John?

-No, I'll keep working my end.

We'll have a proper drink next time you come down.

-Oh, I look forward to that.

And thank you, John; thank you.

-Ugh!

Oh, Richard, I' m so sorry. I' m just not very good at this.

Oh, Marcia!

Good afternoon.

How nice of you to drop by.

Where have you been? -Out.

Well, perhaps you could be a little less enigmatic

and a fraction more practical.

I have to attend evensong.

BRACKNELL: Yes.

He likes soldiers dunked in the yolk.

BRACKNELL: These are lies!

Those people would say anything

to blacken our family name!

BARNABY: You knew perfectly well that Richard

was not attacked, leaving the library.

Actually, he was found in a small park

on the outskirts of Brighton,

a park where men were known to go

to meet each other for -- for --

for casual sex.

I had to protect

the family -- -Family name, yes, yes.

Look, listen, I do understand that.

I believe

there is a link, a connection,

between the murder victims and certain anonymous notes

that were sent to Giles Shawcross,

one of which suggests --

Yes, yes, that Marcia and I have

an unnatural relationship.

Giles told me all about it.

Quite gleefully, if you ask me.

Is it true?

Mr. Barnaby!

That is prurience, not investigation.

Of course it's not true!

I live in the big house and have a village to run!

It's quite enough, for any woman.

I as-- I assume equally arid.

She has very few friends,

apart from those people she meets in the gymnasium.

Oh, yes.

Obsessed with exercise.

Beneath that mild exterior,

she's built like a pit pony.

Lady Matilda,

do you know who this is?

-Oh, one of Richard's

Oxford friends.

It's Giles Shawcross.

Giles?

The man who met and attacked your Richard

in that park in Brighton.

They were lovers.

No! Impossible.

Yeah, look at the chin, the angle of the head.

It's Giles.

Oh, poor boy.

-Giles believed that he was brought here

by a just, if somewhat perverse, God,

to atone for his youthful sins.

And Richard must've known all about it

and unable to... tell anyone.

Where is Marcia now?

Church.

I'd like to see her room, please.

Upstairs, third on the left.

-Thank you.

I must find Richard.

Richard...

Richard!

SHAWCROSS: Thank you.

Thank you so much.

!

JONES: That is the Terrys, winding me up.

We'll have to walk from here.

BARNABY: Oh.

Ow!

I'm fine.

So Richard wasn't there? -Didn't see him.

Well, maybe Richard's got something to do with it.

-Oh, no, Jones, come on, not in the real world.

Think about who was named in those threatening letters.

Lady Matilda. -Who was at home.

Reverend Giles, Marcia.

-What is it connects them all, one to another?

What are you doing?!

Not even the bellringers stay for evensong.

Come in, do their bit, then off to the pub.

-Can we get on with the service, please?

What's the 1st Psalm?

Inheritance, Jones. That's what connects them.

Look, Lady Matilda's got a big estate --

it' s crumbling, yeah, but big -- and a line that stretches back

a thousand years, but it's all going to come to an end,

in the shape of the wreck that's Richard William.

MARCIA and SHAWCROSS: "The Lord is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me

in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil".

JONES: You're kidding! -I don't think so.

You think Dalgleish was leaning on Jenny Russell

to marry Richard William?

Jenny Russell?!

Surely, Richard would be incapable of --

-No, no, no, Jones, not these days.

Perfectly possible, to extract the sperm from Richard

and implant it in a healthy female.

!

Yeah, who was deeply in debt to Dalgleish.

-And you think Lady Matilda went along with this?

Yeah, but I think some other parties

were not quite so willing.

And now, a special prayer

for the dying,

for those in our parish

about to face... the final hurdle.

Stick to the proper order of service, please.

Marcia Macintyre devoted her entire life

to caring for Richard.

Now, Why would she do that, do you think?

-She was in love with him. -Yes, she was.

How did you get there? -Nothing clever.

Searched her room. Found her yearbook.

They were all at Oxford together.

Marcia ousted Giles from Richard's bed.

Giles crippled Richard.

-What a mess.

Yeah. Come on!

GILES: Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy.

Lord have mercy.

Well, we know what has to happen now.

Yes.

I'm ready.

Are you?

Thank you.

Thank you.

BARNABY: Marcia!

Put the sword down. Giles, get out of here!

Stay where you are.

Give me the sword.

No! No.

"Vengeance is mine" saith the Lord

and I will execute vengeance in anger --

Jones, Jones. -And fury upon the heathen,

such as they have never heard!

-SHAWCROSS: Aah!

Aagh!

Ah! Ahh. Ah.

Ah! Ahh. -Jones!

My peace, I give to you.

DS Jones.

Ambulance, Midsomer Parva church, now!

Giles Shawcross --

his spinal cord' s been severed, completely severed.

He's never going to walk again.

I have been very much at fault, Mr. Barnaby.

I don't think this is about you, Matilda.

I only had the one son.

And then Marcia came along,

offering her services as a carer.

I didn't know she was --

No, well, she and Richard had their little secret.

MARCIA: Is it a light trim, sir?

Something for the weekend?

BARNABY: For Marcia, her whole life --

Who do we want to look like today?

Was in the love that she had for Richard --

Cary Grant, Clark Gable? -And for her church.

She had no idea, at the time,

of Richard's involvement with Giles --

We'll look like our oh-so-very-handsome self.

Until...until the new rector turned up.

Hmm!

Mr. Shawcross, there's one thing

we haven't actually talked about,

which is the condition of the roof.

No wonder Giles felt he was in God's hands.

You were

gloriously oblivious, weren't you?

But Marcia wasn't.

Quite.

I was never very good

at the subtleties of this life, Mr. Barnaby.

And then Hugh Dalgleish comes along,

with his extraordinary, bizarre agenda.

It's very simple, Lady M: I want land;

you want your precious family line to continue.

I presume Dicky boy still functions as a man.

I beg your pardon.

Ha. We take the seed of his noble loins,

impregnate a suitable breeder and join them legally.

BARNABY: And Marcia heard it all.

I'm sure your pet rector will do the deed.

And so,

betrayed, outraged,

terrified of losing Richard,

she set about eliminating everyone

involved in the scheme.

And what more suitably biblical way to dispatch them

than with the fabled Sword of Guillaume, hmm?

But, even in her disturbed state,

Marcia maintained

a very high degree of cunning,

by laying a false trail of accusatory letters,

even one maligning herself.

And she let her hooded alter ego be recorded on CCTV,

and that opened

a whole avenue of suspicions.

And then the revived Causton-Brighton visit.

That presented her with a perfect opportunity.

I mean, where else, where better,

to begin her work, than in the very place

where her lover had been destroyed?

In Brighton, she attached the sword

to the back of Richard's wheelchair...

And then set out

to deliver her judgment on Hugh Dalgleish.

Aah!

BARNABY: And then she had to destroy

the proposed breeding vessel

and Richard's future wife,

Jenny Russell.

Jenny Russell.

And I'm guessing, but you,

as co-instigator of the scheme,

you'd have been next.

Oh, Marcia, you poor woman.

Such demons.

Well, things to be done.

Duties, always duties.

You will excuse us?

Lady Matilda.

Come along, Richard.

People to visit, gardens to tend.