All language subtitles for death.in.paradise.s08e07.1080p.hdtv.h264-mtb

You're listening
to Radio Saint Marie.

It's just gone nine o'clock
and the weather outside is hot.

Damned hot!

So, kick off your shoes,
sit back and join me, Dezzie Dixon,

for the next two hours

while I play the very
best in reggae music.

We've a bootleg recording from
before Bob Marley made it big...

a surprise from Marcia Griffiths

and a classic track from The
Pioneers's 1969 album Long Shot

straight after these messages.

You went to adverts late.

Faith, honey, Dezzie Dixon doesn't
rush his links. You know that.

Like you read my mind, Bunny.

Yes!

Mm, do you remember this? Found it
tucked away in the racks cupboard.

- Mount Zion.
- Yeah, man!

♪ One of these days ♪
♪ I'm gonna hear you say ♪

♪ Come on, before it's too late. ♪

Love that track!

Got a new song to add
to tonight's playlist.

Whatever you say.

Bunny, I'm going over to Raymond's.

- You hungry?
- Mm.

Dad.

All right, everybody, Dezzie Dixon here,

taking you into the night
with some classic reggae.

Hey, you know, officially,

we aren't supposed to leave the
broadcaster alone in the station.

Well, I won't tell
management if you don't.

Now, before the news,

you were listening to Money
In My Pocket by Dennis Brown.

If I could remember
it better, but then they say,

if you remember the '70s,
you weren't really there.

Good evening, Raymond.
What's your special tonight?

Excuse me.

What are you doing here?

What the hell?!

Faith, wait, wait, wait, wait!
Be careful.

He's not there.

The fire escape's been opened.

Dad!

Call the police.

Emergency services.

I want the police, please.
There's been a shooting.

Dad? Dad!

- The police are on their way.
- What the hell is going on, Bunny?

Girl, I really don't know.

We've gone off air.

Lord.

Oh, Lord!

- Excuse me.
- Can you believe it, sir?

Dezzie Dixon shot live on air.

I was listening at
home when it happened.

They think an intruder
got into the studio.

The only other people
working at the station

had just gone out to get some food.

I'll need to speak to his colleagues

once I've taken a look
at the crime scene.

Good evening, sir. So, we have a
single, fatal bullet to the head.

There's traces of powder
round the entry wound,

suggesting he was shot at close range.

8mm, maybe 9mm in calibre.

Mm, and there's blood
splatters here and here,

so I think that he was
seated when it all happened.

I assume the door was the
killer's point of entry,

as this window's locked from the inside.

So, someone must have waited until
they knew the building was empty

and then came in and shot poor Dezzie.

- It's audacious, to say the least.
- How do you mean, sir?

Well, the victim was broadcasting
live on air when it happened,

thousands of witnesses hearing
the murder being committed.

I mean, most killers carry
out their crimes unnoticed,

but our guy or girl,

they not only wanted everyone
to know what they were doing,

but when and where they were doing it.

OK, JP, let's wait for Ruby.

She's rounding up the
people who found the body.

Erm, Ruby's behind you, sir.

What's she saying, JP?

I have no idea, sir.

Oh!

They're waiting for you
in the staffroom, sir.

- Great, thanks.
- You know, for a moment there,

I thought you were ignoring me.

I don't think there's
any danger of that.

Thank you, sir.

I understand you'd nipped out to
get some food when it happened.

Yeah, we were at the
van across the street

and we heard the gunshot on the radio.

At first, we really didn't
know what had happened.

Until we went in the
studio and we saw...

Dad's body.

I see.

Nd the fire door out the back...
I noticed it was open.

It was like that when we came
in after hearing the gunshot.

I went to see if anyone was out
there, but... nothing.

So, that must be where the
killer made their exit.

Any idea how they got in?

We leave the door at the front open.

You see,
Dezzie always liked this feeling

that it was like an open
house, you know.

In case anyone wanted to
drop by and make a request.

Or bring him a free drink.

Can either of you think of a reason

why someone might want
to do this to Dezzie?

Someone he fell out with?

An ex-lover? That sort of thing?

Dezzie never really got close to
people, you know.

The only things he really
cared about was the music

and his radio show. That's all.

I can't believe it!

I'm sorry, sir. You'll have to leave.
This is a crime scene.

Excuse me, Inspector,
this is our station manager.

- Carlton Brown.
- DI Jack Mooney.

I was just asking your colleagues
could they think of any reason

why someone might want Dezzie dead?

Any thoughts yourself?

That man was a legend, you know?

That he was indeed.

I, erm, was on the other side
of the bay when it happened.

You know, Palm Tree Club.
Local band night.

Then my phone just started
ringing off the hook, you know.

I see. Well,
it's good to know you have an alibi.

Oh, one last thing...

there was a table out there
covered in old electronics.

Should there be a cassette machine?

It's just there was a manual.
An old Marantz player.

Yeah.

Did anyone move it today?

Is it worth anything?

A couple of dollars.
Not even sure if it works.

Evening, Commissioner.

A sorry night for the
people of Saint Marie.

Dezzie Dixon's death will be felt
in all corners of this island.

I know.

And, please, let me reassure
you, here and now,

we will get to the bottom of it.

Though... that's not why I'm here.

I've had the chief commissioner
in Paris on the phone,

and in light of what
happened to DS Cassell,

they're sending someone
over from Internal Affairs.

If an officer is injured
in a firearms incident,

then the senior investigating
officer involved

has to go under formal review.

They think it's my fault
that Florence got shot?

They just need to be
sure that it wasn't.

Maybe while the Internal
Affairs officer is with us,

it might be better if you, erm...

- If I...?
- Are a little less yourself.

But... I am myself.

That's who I am. I'm me.

- Am I not?
- Mm.

Sir, if you're asking
me to show this officer

what a strong team we are,
well, then I'll do my very best.

Thank you, Inspector.

Yes, Madeleine Dumas lands tomorrow.

She's on the 7am flight from Paris.

Sir...

should I be worried about this?

I sincerely hope not.

So, what exactly
do Internal Affairs do?

Well, they police the police, Ruby.

So, they could arrest Inspector Mooney?

In theory, yes, but I don't
think that's going to happen.

That reminds me of the time

I was assistant hairdresser

at my Auntie Gardenia's beauty salon.

- It does?
- Yup.

Let's just say we made sure that
woman at the income tax office

was very well looked after.

She got the double deluxe
manicure and the facial for free.

You see, JP...

people show kindness when
you show kindness to them.

It's exactly how we should treat
this Internal Affairs woman.

Er, no, we should not, Ruby.

That is totally inappropriate.

We've got to be nothing
but professional.

But the more they like us, the more
they'll write us a good report.

That's not how Internal
Affairs works, Ruby.

Well, it would totally
work if it were me.

Good morning. How can I help?

I am Detective Sergeant Madeleine
Dumas, Internal Affairs.

You are? I thought you
were on the 7am flight.

I was. I landed at 7am.

Ah. Slight confusion there on my part.

I'm usually a very punctual
man, I assure you.

- Please, accept my apologies.
- You've been shopping this morning?

No. No. We have a murder
case in full swing.

I was just checking
someone's alibi at a bar.

Got chatting to the owner, as you do,

and he said he'd lend me some albums.

I've really gotten into the
whole reggae scene since I...

- Could we go inside, please?
- Of course.

- Here's a desk you can use.
- Thank you.

So, erm... how does this work?

First, I will need to
look at all the files

from the case when DS
Cassell was injured.

- I see.
- I also spend some time with you

and your team,
observe and assess working practices

and then I'll make my recommendations.

That all sounds very thorough.

Oh, I'm sure you and your team
are extremely professional.

♪ I'm just a lonely boy

♪ Waiting for someone to lo... ♪

So, team,

this is Detective
Sergeant Madeleine Dumas

from Internal Affairs,

and Police Officers JP
Hooper, Ruby Patterson.

- Welcome to Saint Marie.
- Thank you.

Oh!

It's the best island
in the whole Caribbean.

Well, I look forward to
getting to know it better.

- Thank you.
- Oh.

Please, don't let my
presence stop you from work.

No. Right. So, team, reports, please.

OK.So...

Erm, Officer Patterson and I
carried out door-to-door enquiries

just as you suggested, sir,

visiting a total of 37 private
residences and businesses.

After extensive questioning,

none of them reported
any unusual activity

in the vicinity of the radio station.

Although we did question Madame Touzard

who lives in the street
leading from the station, sir.

- Madame Touzard?
- Yes. She's my old headmistress.

She must be at least
150 years old by now.

Anyway, she reported
seeing a suspicious vehicle

parked in her street
just before the murder.

It was a blue BMW with
blacked-out windows.

Thank you, Ruby. Both of you.
Very professional.

JP, run a search on all the cars

on the island matching that description.

- Right away, sir.
- So, what's in the box, Ruby?

The box? Oh, the box!

You'll never guess what I found in a bin

near the radio station, sir.

The tape player that was
stolen from the murder scene!

Someone must have realised

it was worthless and just threw it away.

They didn't think it was
worthless when they picked it up.

Well, let's get it checked for prints.
And well done.

Day one... couple of solid
leads already. Excellent.

I'm just going to put
this new information

onto our investigation database.

Sir, the radio station
e-mailed over the recording

- of Dezzie's broadcast from last night.
- Great stuff.

Be good to hear it again,
see if there's anything we missed.

Any little audio clues
that might help us work out

who fired the gun and killed Dezzie.

Or would,
if I could remember it better,

but then they say,
if you remember the '70s,

you weren't really there.

Excuse me, wha...

What are you doing here?

Get it to the lab.

- See if they can enhance it in any way.
- Yes, sir.

Our victim...
the legendary DJ Dezzie Dixon,

an incredibly well-known face,
or rather voice, on the island.

No enemies or spurned
ex-partners that we know about.

I suggest we start with his
colleagues at the radio station.

Even though both Bunny and Faith

were at the food truck
when the shots were fired?

Well, we have to start somewhere, Ruby.

OK, well, I haven't got
everything back yet, sir,

but regarding Mr Hicks...
he lives on his own,

has never been in trouble with the law

and has worked at the radio
station for nearly 20 years.

As for Faith Butler,
I've got next to nothing on her, sir.

Is she married?
Her surname is different to her dad's.

That's what I mean, sir.

I can't find anything...
no registered address, no tax code.

All I've got is multiple cautions

for shoplifting on Barbados
when she was younger.

- Let's get the police file sent over.
- Already on it, sir.

And this chap...
Carlton Brown, station manager.

OK. Mr Brown.

He's married. He's got two
kids, both at private school.

Was hired last year to take Radio
Saint Marie in a new direction

and attract younger listeners.

I just interviewed the owner of
the Palm Tree Club this morning.

According to him, his alibi stands.

Excuse me, Inspector.
Can I interrupt you there?

- Of course. Please.
- If you have witnesses

confirming that all
these people have alibis

at the time of the shooting,
why are you not discounting them?

Well, you see,
as my Uncle Kenny used to say,

never let the tail wag the dog.

I was at school with a fella
called Charlie O'Brien.

This girl Maeve,
she accused him of peeking at her

while she was having a wee behind
a tree in Ballyrafton Woods.

Now, the thing is there was 11 of us

who could swear, on that day,

Charlie was visiting his Auntie Bridget

37 miles away in Wexford Town...

Perfect alibi.

Until you learn that Charlie
gave each of us a pound

to provide him with that alibi,

and the truth is he was guilty as hell.

Does that answer your
question, Sergeant?

I'm not sure.

JP, I think we should
visit Dezzie's house,

see what turns up there.

Yes, sir.

That is a damn fine
collection of records,

and all original vinyl recordings.

Sweet Jane! Would you look at this?

It's Bob Marley and the Wailers...
the live album from 1975.

Signed by all the members of the
band, including Marley himself.

Yeah, that's very good, sir,

but don't you think that maybe

you should leave the
records alone for a bit?

JP...

what do you notice about these photos?

Erm...

that they're all work, not family.

More specifically,
there's not a single one

of Dezzie with his daughter Faith.

No pictures of Faith graduating,

playing the clarinet, riding a pony.

I mean, what kind of dad
has this many photos,

but not a single one
of his own daughter?

OK. No, no, that's great.

All right, thank you very much.
OK, bye-bye.

So, immigration files show

that Faith Butler had
never visited Saint Marie

until four months ago.

As far as I can tell, sir,

her and Dezzie were total
strangers until then.

I think I know why she came here.

Found these in a desk drawer.

Faith's mum took her own
life five months ago.

Her mother was an alcoholic,
suffered from depression,

and right until the very end,

the poor woman blamed
Dezzie for her problems.

I did media and communication
studies at college.

Passed with distinction.

That's when Mum sat me down and told
me I was Dezzie Dixon's daughter.

That's where I got it from...
the interest in TV and radio.

It was me who found her.

And a few weeks later,
you came here to Saint Marie.

I just felt so alone after.

But I realised I had a dad,
so I got in touch with Dezzie,

told him who I was
and what had happened.

How did you get on when you met?

We were both nervous at
first, but it was good.

It was better than good.

And did you spend much
time together outside work?

He didn't really spend
much time with anyone.

He projected this image of being
the great Dezzie Dixon, but...

I think he was quite sad.

You know, Faith,
when I found out about your mum,

I'll be honest with
you, part of me wondered

if you'd come to Saint
Marie to confront your dad.

You think I killed my own father?

Well, you have to admit,
it's a fair question.

I was across the road buying
food when it happened.

How can you even say that?

I loved my dad.

I know I only knew him for a few months,

but the connection we had was real.

Ask anyone. I loved him and he loved me.

- JP, you're back.
- Yes.

Did you buy her that cake?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Excuse me. Where is your custody record?

- It's in the custody desk by the cells.
- Thank you.

- We need to loosen her up a bit.
- You can't loosen her up.

- She's Internal Affairs!
- Sure you can.

What are you doing?

Trying to create a relaxed vibe.

You can't do that. It's evidence.

Oh, don't worry.
I've already finished processing it.

It's a police station.

You can't play music.

Oh, I know, JP,
but it's a friendly police station.

What is that music?

Er... It's, erm...

- It's evidence, Sarge. Oh.
- I'll tell you what it is.

If I'm not greatly mistaken,
it's Samfie Man by The Pioneers.

- It sure is, sir!
- If you ask me, it's the bee's knees.

Well, that's got the old ticker pumping.

Is that the...
the tape that was in the tape machine?

Yes, sir. I dusted for prints,

but I haven't had a chance
to upload on to the computer.

Well, let me know if you get a match.
Anything else?

Ooh, yes, I know who owns the blue BMW

Madame Touzard saw in her street

- the night of the murder.
- Oh?

Yes, I spoke with my friend who works at
the vehicle licensing office, Enrique.

Him and I had a fling a few years back.

Needless to say, it wasn't exactly what
you would call fireworks because...

And what did Enrique say
about the blue BMW, Ruby?

Oh,

He said it was owned by the
station manager, Carlton Brown.

Well, why would Carlton Brown
be parked near the radio station

when he told us he was
at the Palm Tree Club?

- Shall I give him a call, sir?
- Yes. Why don't you?

Ah! This keeps happening.

There is something sticky
on some of these pages.

Oh, yeah, sorry about that.
That's Harry.

He walked through some jam
and then across my notes.

- Harry?
- Yeah, we live together.

And to be honest with you,
if he's not in the jam,

he's in the sock drawer
doing his business.

- He's a lizard.
- Excuse me?

Harry... he's a pet lizard.

He's a little beggar, that's what he is!

Right, thank you very much.

JP, what did Carlton
have to say for himself?

So, he says sometimes he
parks near the station

because that's where he can get space.
And he knew he'd be drinking

so he left his car behind
and walked to the club.

Fair enough. That's very sensible.

All of which means that
our mystery blue BMW...

not quite the mystery after all.

But what we're still
left pondering is...

if you're going to
kill Radio Saint Marie's

long-serving DJ Dezzie Dixon,

why would you do it in the middle
of a broadcast, live on air?

No, it's fine.

Everybody's trying too
hard, like they always do,

and it's hotter than the sun,

but I should be done in a day or two.

I wouldn't know. I blocked his number.

Well, that way, I don't have to wonder

if he's going to call or not.

- Night, Madeleine.
- Night, Inspector.

What was that?

Oh, no. An officer on
Saint Marie was shot.

I need to assess whether
her superior was negligent.

He's Scottish, I think.
Got a weird accent.

Yeah, even if he's partly responsible,

we'll have to suspend him.

Probably send him back to the UK.

- Sir?
- In here, JP.

- Hey.
- Morning to the both of you.

Perfect timing. Think I might
have something of interest.

- And so do we, sir.
- Great!

So, I was playing some of
these albums that I borrowed.

I was reading the liner
notes, as you do,

when I noticed Bunny Hicks'
name on one of them...

he was the producer.

These two, as well.
Pretty good they are, too.

So, I checked out the history

of the record label that
released these albums.

Island Bay Records, they're called.

Turns out Bunny Hicks was
a pretty important figure

in the reggae scene back in the day,

which begs the question,
"What went wrong?"

To go from being the golden boy in a
successful music production company

to helping out at a
local radio station...

quite a fall from grace, no?

Ruby, perhaps you could
do some Bunny digging.

And what about you two?
You said you had something.

The unidentified fingerprints
on the tape player...

a match came through and it
belongs to someone called

Stephane Leblanc.

Also known as Junior.

I'm sure you've seen him around, sir.

- Previous for theft.
- Ah, yes. I think I know the fella.

OK, JP, you and me,
let's go and talk to Junior.

And, Ruby, could you head
to the police station?

We mustn't forget about our
friend in Internal Affairs.

You're going
to enjoy this next track.

Well, Junior, listening to Dezzie there?

They're playing all his old shows.

Would you mind turning
it off for a moment?

We just need to have a little chat.

Good man.

Now, do you know why we're here, Junior?

Well, the thing is we
found your fingerprints

on an old tape player that was
taken from the radio station

the night poor Dezzie
Dixon was murdered.

It was dumped in a bin
near the murder scene.

Now, we couldn't help wondering
how your fingerprints got on it.

- I have no idea.
- OK, JP, cuff him.

Whoa! Whoa! Wait! Wait!
You're not locking me up.

I ain't going back in
that cell of yours again.

Smells funny.

In your own time, Junior.

I'd been hanging around
the food van that night...

the one across from the station.

And...?

And I saw the old guy and the
young pretty thing who work there

was leaving to get some food.

So, I thought I'd go in and
have a little look around.

Got to take your opportunities
when you can, living like this.

And what happened when
you went in there?

Place was empty.
I saw all this stuff on a table.

Looked like it was ready
to chuck in the bin.

So I grabbed the tape player and left.

I thought I could do it up and sell it.

I was on my way back here
when I heard what happened,

so I dumped the tape player, and fast.

That's all I know.

And in the time you were
in the radio station,

you're positive you didn't
see anyone else there?

No, man.
Like I said, the place was empty.

I swear I ain't lying to you.

All I did was take that tape machine

and go right back out that fire door.

Sorry, back out the fire door?

But didn't you come in
through the front entrance?

No, man.

Somebody left the fire
door open round the side.

That's why I went in.

The fire door was already open?

That's what I said, isn't it?

If Junior is telling the truth

and that fire door was already
opened before Dezzie was shot,

well, then that means someone working in
the radio station must have opened it.

Why?

To make it look like the killer
made their escape that way.

Yeah, which means you were right, sir,

about our killer being someone
from within the radio station.

Can you play that recording again?

Just before the gun is fired.

Excuse me.
What are you doing here?

There. He said,
"What are you doing here?"

He wouldn't say that
to someone he knows,

someone that worked with
him at the radio station.

It sounds more like he's talking
to a stranger, an intruder, no?

Well, yes, I mean...

Which would once again make it unlikely

that it's one of those three
people that all have alibis.

Again, a very valid point, Madeleine,

but I still believe we're right

to focus on the people
closest to Dezzie.

Well, if that's what you think.

So... what else have we got?

Erm, yes.

So, sir, the financial checks are back,

and it seems Carlton Brown

is the only one with a
healthy bank account.

- Oh?
- Yeah, he earns a six-figure salary,

whereas Faith Butler

is servicing some serious
debts her mother left her.

So, maybe Faith killed
Dezzie for the money.

I doubt it.

I mean, he only had a couple
of thousand in his savings.

Ruby, did you manage to dig
up anything on Bunny Hicks?

Actually, the sarge and I did
some digging together, didn't we?

We talked to one of the
directors at Island Bay Records.

Where Bunny worked as a music producer.

And it turns out Dezzie also
worked there many years ago

and something went down
between the both of them...

something bad... but the guy
we spoke to wouldn't say what.

All that we could get is that
Bunny never recovered from it.

It's market day!

Sorry, but what does the
market have to do with this?

Oh, Chiggy who runs the record stall,
he's an encyclopaedia of reggae history.

However, his tongue might need
a bit of loosening up first.

Won't be a tick.

Does he often drink alcohol
with potential witnesses?

No. Well, not often.

OK, Sarge, sometimes, things just
work like that on the island.

Even so,
it's half past ten in the morning.

How did you get on, sir?

You were right... according to
Chiggy, it's thanks to Dezzie

that Bunny never worked
as a music producer again.

- I'm going to go and speak to him.
- Can I come with you, Inspector?

Of course.

You're keen to observe my
interview technique, I imagine.

Oh, no, it's more that I don't think

that you should be
driving a police vehicle

on public roads after consuming alcohol.

Let me just
turn this down a little bit.

Actually, leave it for a moment.

Lee "Scratch" Perry. Am I right?

The man is good.

This is a limited edition
original pressing.

It's worth a pretty penny, you know.

Plenty times I think, when I am broke,

when I am low on cash,
I always have this to sell.

But something tells me, Inspector,

that you're not just
here to chat about music.

Well, we heard that you and
Dezzie weren't the great friends

that a lot of people thought you were.

Since what happened
at Island Bay Records.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong.

When Dezzie was still
making a name for himself,

he got his hands on an
album that you'd produced,

and he thought he could do
better, so he remixed it,

but he made it worse.

Look, we had to delay the album launch.

Cost the company a fortune.

And they held you responsible.

It's still in there, isn't it, Bunny?

It's still inside you...
the anger at what Dezzie did.

Look... he apologised 100 times over.

Got me a job at the
station to make up for it.

And I played along,
like I put it behind me.

But there are some things
that happen to you in life

that you never come back from.

And was it you who shot him two
nights ago at that radio station?

Inspector, I dreamed of
doing it plenty of times,

but it wasn't me who pulled the trigger.

And as I told you already,
there's a handful of people

who can testify that I was across
the street getting my dinner

when Dezzie got shot.

All right?

12 minutes past nine, two nights ago,

the residents of this fair isle

played witness to the
murder of Dezzie Dixon

as it was transmitted
live on Radio Saint Marie.

Our suspects number three.

So far, we've found
motives for two of them.

- Faith Butler.
- And Bunny Hicks.

But both of them have
irrefutable alibis.

Our third suspect is that man there.

Currently, he has no
motive that we're aware of,

but, of course, he, too,
has a watertight alibi.

He was seen across town
at the time of the murder

at the Palm Tree Club.

But if it is one of them...

which one is it and why did they feel

that murdering Dezzie Dixon

in the middle of a
Sunday-night broadcast

was the best way to go about it?

Maybe we should call it a day, just...

approach it afresh in the morning.

Well, goodnight.

Goodnight, Sarge.

- Night.
- Goodnight, guys.

Sorry, Madeleine, before you go,
do you have any plans for this evening?

Oh, I'm just going back to my hotel.

I was just wondering if you
fancied dinner chez Mooney.

If nothing else,
the view from my place is to die for.

Well, why not? I'll go take a shower

and meet you there in an hour.

Perfect.

- Is everything OK, sir?
- Yeah. No. Just couldn't help feeling

that things aren't
going spectacularly well

with DS Dumas,
so I've invited her for dinner.

Oh, thanks.

Saint Marie is very beautiful.

And this place...

you're lucky.

Not a bad life, I suppose.

Wake up to the sound of the waves.

- Swim before breakfast.
- Mm.

And fresh coconut on tap.

Oh, you know, I never had a
fresh coconut from a tree.

Really? Well,
we'll have to do something about that.

Well...

And what about you?

All I know is you've given up smoking.

Well, I live in Paris.
I have a cat called Maurice.

I love to cook and paint

and watch movies with
a glass of red wine

and the darkest
chocolate bar I can find.

- Not married, no?
- No.

I was in a relationship
for eight months,

but the boyfriend broke
up with me two weeks ago.

Sorry to hear that.

It's OK. Don't be.

He was a peacock with the
brain of a cheese sandwich.

- Not a great combination.
- No.

- Bonsoir, Jack.
- Ah, Catherine. Good evening.

This is Detective Sergeant Madeleine
Dumas from the Paris police.

It's lovely to meet you, Madeleine.

I would shake your hand, but...

Let me. You probably guessed...

I'm not doing the cooking.

- Oh.
- Catherine...

she owns a lovely
little bar around here.

And don't worry,
it's all authentic Caribbean nosh.

Parfait.

Thanks, Catherine. You're a star.

Just go and get this warmed up.

So... you're working with Jack.

- Only for a few days.
- Oh.

It's a shame you won't have
longer to get to know him.

Oh... I think I've got to
know him enough already.

You know him well?

- Oh, very well. He's always at my bar.
- Is that so?

For Jack, work never finishes.

He and JP and Ruby use my
place as a second office.

You mean he discusses his
cases in a public bar?

I've even helped him solve some of them.

You should put that in your report.

Oh, I will.

Now, excuse me.
I must get back to the bar.

- Bon appetit, Jack!
- Thanks, Catherine!

Bye.

Now, Madeleine...

how about we go and
get you that coconut?

OK, that's the first one.

Are you positive this is safe?

Oh, absolutely. I've done
this 100 times. Probably more.

Just... usually in the morning I do it,

when there's less mosquitos around.

Blasted things. Get away!

- Please be careful up there!
- Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.

Oh!

- Night, fellas. Thanks for the help.
- Any time, Jack.

I really can't apologise
enough, Madeleine.

It's fine. Nothing is broken.

And there was me thinking I'd go
up in your estimation tonight.

I'm sorry?

Well, no, I just...

I'm aware that maybe I haven't made
the greatest of impressions on you

over the last couple of days.

Dropping a coconut on you...
that's not going to help, is it?

Are you worried about my report?

Why don't I tell you
what I'm going to write?

Then you won't have to wonder any more.

Well... from the case notes...
even the ones covered in jam...

it is very clear that DS Cassell
acted completely on her own behalf

and it was those actions
that led to her injury.

I doubt any... blame could be
attributed to you... directly.

"Directly"?

If you ran a tighter ship,

DS Cassell may have not felt
able to go off on her own.

And that's what you'll be
writing in your report?

Yes, it is.

I understand.

You have to write what you think.

It's your taxi.

Thank you.

Goodnight, Inspector.

I'm sorry.

You're
listening to Radio Saint Marie.

It's just gone nine o'clock
and the weather outside is hot.

Damned hot!

So, kick off your shoes,
sit back and join me, Dezzie Dixon,

for the next two hours while I
play the very best in reggae music.

- You hungry?
- Mm.

All right, everybody, Dezzie Dixon here.

Well, I won't tell
management if you won't.

Somebody left
the fire door open.

I was on the other side of
the bay when it happened.

Dad!

Oh!

Saint Marie Police.

JP, Carlton Brown has an assigned
parking bay at the station.

OK. And you're telling
me that because...?

Well, how come he told
us he finds it easier

to park his BMW a few streets away?

He's got a reserved spot
right here in front of me.

- Mm, that is odd, sir.
- What's the name of the witness

who saw his car the night of the murder?

Erm...

Madame Touzard, 3 Rue du Castella.

- Right, meet me there.
- Yes, sir.

OK, Ruby, the inspector wants us

over at your old headmistress's house.

- Great!
- You coming, Sarge?

Non, merci. I'm busy.

OK.

It's back... Carlton Brown's blue BMW.

Carlton Brown with it.

He let himself into that
house about an hour ago.

It's not the first time Madame
Touzard has seen his car

since the night of the murder.

There's been three other occasions
he's parked up on this street.

I wonder what he's up to, sir.

So, is DS Dumas done
shadowing us now, sir?

I... believe so, yes.

Just got her report to write
up and then she's out of here.

I thought it would take
her longer than that.

Well... I think she's made her decision,

so no need to hang about, I guess.

Eyeballs on the suspect, sir.

Well, I think we now all know
what's been going on in that house.

Naughty boy.

You have to promise you
will never, ever tell my wife.

Well, it depends on how
cooperative you are.

So, to start, why don't you tell
us about your real movements

on the night of the murder?

OK. So, I was at the
Palm Tree Club at six...

I wasn't lying about that...

and at 12 minutes past nine
when Dezzie was murdered.

- And in between?
- I was with Jenna.

- That's the woman we just saw you with?
- Mm.

And what time were you there
on the night of the murder?

From seven-ish till just before nine.
8:45, say.

- And she can corroborate that?
- Yes.

I had nothing to do with Dezzie's
death, I swear it.

Did Dezzie know about
you and Miss Devaux?

No.

You know, that first night we met,

when you gave me your alibi even
though I didn't ask you for one,

you acted shifty.

And you just did it there again,
which makes me think you're lying.

He caught me with Jenna
a couple of times.

So what? He was going to tell your wife?

Why? I mean... Dezzie didn't strike me

as the type of person to
take the moral high ground.

I was trying to get rid of him.

Was hired last year to take Radio
Saint Marie in a new direction

and attract younger listeners.

As part of your remit to attract
a younger audience to the station.

But you couldn't get rid of Mr Dixon
because he knew about your affair.

B-But it doesn't mean it
was me that killed him.

I was back at the club
when Dezzie was shot.

There were witnesses that
saw me take the call.

Yet another suspect who has motive,

but throws back in our face the
fact they have a rock-solid alibi.

I am just as baffled and
bemused as I was at the start.

That was the lab, sir,
and it's not good news.

- Go on.
- So, they've done their best

enhancing the recording
of Dezzie's shooting,

but there's just nothing
they can get from it.

That was a classic
from reggae great Jimmy Cliff.

Now The Pioneers with
Long Shot Kick De Bucket.

Listening to poor old Dezzie there.

They're playing all his old shows.

- Sir?
- That should be on, shouldn't it?

Sorry, would you mind telling me

why, when you're broadcasting
Dezzie's old shows right now,

why is the "on air" light off?

Because it's never on when
pre-recording's playing.

It's only when the studio mic is
live that it comes on, you see.

Dezzie just carried on regardless.

- Bunny, you hungry?
- Mm.

All right, everybody.

What are you doing here?

Somebody left the fire
door open round the side.

I went to see if anyone
was out there, but...

Window's locked from the inside.

What's she saying, JP?

I mean, he only had a couple
of thousand in his savings.

When I'm low on cash,
I always have this to sell.

- That's it.
- You've solved it, sir?

Very nearly, Ruby. Very nearly indeed.

I just... need to pay a visit
to our old friend Junior,

ask him a quick question.

JP, come with me.
I need you to get a search warrant.

Ruby, I want you to
gather everyone together.

Yes, sir.

Ruby, I need you to get everyone

to the police station, not here.

Well why?

Because I'm worried that
DS Dumas is going to make

the wrong decision about the inspector,

so we need to prove
to her how good he is,

OK? All right.

If all of you can just wait
here for a minute. Thank you.

The inspector's solved the case

and he's coming here
to reveal who did it.

Great.

Erm, maybe you could stay

and watch him explain, Sarge.

- Trust me, it's always the best bit.
- I need to finish this.

Erm, maybe... before you
finish the report, you could...

Sorry, this won't help.

Well, come on!

Right.

The question at the heart of this
investigation was a real puzzler.

Why would someone choose to commit
murder live on national radio...

murdering a man when half
the island's listening in?

Well, that appears to be what
happened three nights ago.

An intruder walked in to
the radio station unnoticed,

pulled out a gun and shot
poor Dezzie Dixon live on air

and then left again,
exiting through the fire door.

But that isn't actually what happened.

It was just staged to look like that.

Now, my instincts told
me that our killer

wasn't someone from outside the station,

but from within, and I was right...
it was one of you three.

Carlton, you were at the Palm Tree
Club at the time of the shooting.

Bunny and Faith, you had gone to
the food truck outside the station

to get your dinner.

You even heard the murder
happening on the radio.

And therein lies the
answer to our puzzle.

You see...

what I finally realised is
that one of you, the killer...

wanted to make it look like
someone was shot live on air,

if, in doing so,
it gave you a rock-solid alibi.

Isn't that right?

Faith?

What?

I loved Dad.

Oh, come on, now. Let's not play games.

I know it was you, Faith.

That gunshot was heard
at 12 minutes past nine,

but that isn't when Dezzie was shot.

No, it just sounded like that.

What myself and the people
of Saint Marie actually heard

was a recording being
played, and the reality is,

Dezzie was killed a few minutes later.

Let me explain exactly what happened.

When I spoke to Junior
here two days ago,

he was listening to re-runs
of Dezzie's old shows

on Radio Saint Marie.
Listening to poor old Dezzie there.

They're playing all his old shows.

And it got me thinking...
there must be hundreds of hours

of Dezzie's old shows in
the station's archives.

Am I right, Mr Brown?

And Faith having passed her
media and communications

course with distinction...

I did media and communications
studies at college.

And with her excellent
audio editing skills,

she would have no trouble

splicing together bits of
footage of Dezzie speaking

taken from his old shows,

so it would appear that Dezzie
was broadcasting as normal.

And in this way,
she cleverly put together

some of Dezzie's words to
form those two sentences,

which we're now all so familiar with.

Excuse me.

What are you doing here?

And then you added the
sound effect of a gunshot

and you were away in a hack.

A recording lasting only a few minutes

that creates the perfect illusion of
Dezzie being murdered live on air.

And then, just before
you went for your dinner,

you cued up the record...

I'm going over to Raymond's. You hungry?

Having already secretly
opened the fire door,

so it would look like that's
how the killer made their exit.

Yourself and Bunny went
out to the food truck

and when you heard that gunshot
coming out of that little radio...

you both hurried back
inside to see what happened.

And you made sure you got
to the studio door first.

You peered in and you claimed
that Dezzie wasn't there...

He's not there.

But that was a lie.

He was there, and still very
much alive at this stage,

blissfully unaware that
anything was amiss.

He carried on broadcasting,
and you could see him.

When you asked Bunny to
go and phone the police...

- Call the police.
- You...

pretended to head towards the
fire door to look for your father.

But as soon as Bunny was out of
sight, you doubled back

and you went into the studio,
where you retrieved the gun...

- Faith, no, no, no.
- Shut up!

And you shot him.

Even though Bunny was just next
door, he never heard the gunshot

because, of course,
the studio was sound-proofed.

And then you opened the
window, climbed out,

making sure it was closed behind you,

and then you hid the gun somewhere

on your way around to the fire door.

So, by the time Bunny came
off the phone to the police,

you were already outside.

Dad!

And so the illusion was sold...

you were never in the studio.

Once the body was discovered,
well, it would only take a moment

for you to close the
catch on the window.

What Faith didn't know,
and certainly didn't expect,

was that Junior here,
he noticed the fire door was open.

And in his way, he decided to have
a little shufty inside that night

just moments before the
real murder took place,

and he confirmed what I suspected...

the "on air" light was off
when Dezzie was killed.

It would only be on if Dezzie's
mic was live in the studio.

It wasn't on when I was there.

You can't prove this. Any of it.

No? Well,
let's go back to the gun you hid.

As soon as we left for the night,
you snuck back to the radio station

to recover the gun from its hiding
place, and you took it home,

assuming that we would
never search your place.

Why would we? You had an alibi.

One court warrant to enter
your property, Miss Butler.

Ooh, and one handgun.

Same calibre as the bullet
used to kill Dezzie.

But why? Why would she do this?

Well, in the end,
I don't think this was about revenge.

I think Faith reunited with her father

because there was something
else she was after... money.

Whereas Faith Butler

is servicing some serious
debts her mother left her.

And as a one-time shoplifter,

this was a woman who always
wanted more than she had.

Multiple cautions for shoplifting

on Barbados when she was younger.

And as it turns out,
quite a lot of money

in old reggae albums,
isn't there, Bunny?

It's worth a pretty penny, you know.

And Dezzie had hundreds of them.

That is a damn fine
collection of records.

And all original vinyl recordings.

I imagine his estate is worth
tens of thousands of dollars...

an amount very much worth killing over.

JP, Ruby, take her to the cells.

The rest of you, free to go.

Hello?

Yes, I am finishing it off now.

Commissioner.

Word has reached me
you've solved the case.

I did, you'll be pleased to know.

Then well done, Inspector.

And what about that other business?

I think you're going to have to
start looking for a replacement.

Is this true, Sergeant Dumas?

Your report will be advising
the chief commissioner in Paris

that DI Mooney should be replaced?

It is what I have written, yes.

The only conclusion I can draw

observing DI Mooney the last few days

is that he is disorganised,

often chaotic, incoherent, rambling...

Don't dress it up, Madeleine.

However...

what I just saw,
what you just did up there...

you're good.

- Really good.
- You're just being kind.

No, no, I have no idea
how you did it, but...

but you made sense of something
that made literally no sense.

Honestly, you took my breath away.

Well...?

Well... if you and the inspector
can agree to keep working

on the many, many flaws he has,

then I can agree to highlight the value

he brings to this island as
a detective in my report.

Consider it done, Sergeant Dumas.

Then I shall go and
amend it immediately.

- Keep it up, Inspector.
- Will do, Commissioner. Will do.

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