All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S14E06 1080p BluRay x264-YELLOWBiRD

Uh!

Uh!

Sir, enjoy.
Okay, who's next?

Wilby, what do you want?

Same again?
Pint?

I'm getting thirsty here.

That's it, Sam.

It's good, it's good.

Excuse me, gents.
Excuse me.

I'm Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

We're making enquiries
about Peter Slim.

He's gone missing.

Well, now.
Local Revenue man goes missing.

Who'd have imagined that, eh?

Anything you can tell us?

Well, put it this way.

If I'd have trousered
as much cash

as some of these beggars have, I'd have
disappeared, too.

Try the Costa Brava,
that's where you'll find him.

That's where all the crooks go!

Hey!

UP, up, up.

Come on.

Whoa!

More research, sir.

You've got sweet,
I've got rough.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Mm, that's good.

I needed that.

Just apple juice
left to ferment.

Nothing added.

Nature's most natural drink.

No yeast?
How does it ferment?

There's yeast in the air.

It settles in the juice,
starts to multiply.

Six months later,
you've got a vat of cider.

So, what's all that about

tossing in a dead rat?

Apparently, a bit of protein kick-starts the
fermentation

if the process
doesn't get going.

- Hmm. Lovely.
- Yeah.

Hey!

We've already got one, mate.

Bit slow, aren't you?

This lot look as though
they're a law unto themselves.

Ah!

Honey.

Like to try some?

Thank you.

That's delicious.

Do I detect pears?
Pears, yes.

And there's a hint
of something else.

I can't quite
put my finger on it.

Elderflower.

The bees that made this

must have got right over

the other side of the valley,
to Midsomer Herne.

Every batch is different.

It's wonderful.
I'll take one.

Let us get at him.

There's not a moment to lose.

Let us drive the Dark One
into the light.

What on earth's this?

Go on, push off,

Norman, you old soak!

Nutter!

Sing up, now.

Sing with confidence.

♪ You ask me
why so oft, Father ♪

♪ The tear rolls
down my cheek ♪

♪ And think it strange
that I should own ♪

♪ A grief I dare not speak ♪

♪ But, oh, my soul is very sad ♪

♪ My brain is almost wild... ♪

Repent from intoxicating drink!

It is the devil's vile spit,
his corrupting excretion.

♪ And let me feel... ♪

This is a madhouse.

Isn't it?

Mr. Grigor.
Mr. Grigor.

Reverend Grigor.

We're about to start
the Thanksgiving ceremony.

We can't do it
while you're singing.

Would you mind asking
your followers to stop?

I will not.

You call yourself a man of God,

but you sanction
this celebration of evil.

You are a hypocrite,

no doubt a fornicator to boot.

Tell me, Norman...

if the other is so wrong,

how come you've got six children
of your own?

Six we know of, that is!

I can assure you,

Samuel Quested,
that I made those children

to glorify the Lord.

The act itself
gave me no pleasure.

I'm sure your wife
would say the same.

You are a mocker
and a scoffer, Chloe Baker.

And you will pay
a price for that.

Oh...

Let's make a start, shall we?

It's all right!

Aw! Nasty man!

That's Anthony Devereux.
This is his mill.

Locals call him "The French.“

He's considered an outsider.

His family have only been living here since the
Norman Conquest.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome, one and all,

to the Midsomer Abbas May Fayre,

when we celebrate
the coming of summer

and the very special relationship

between Midsomer Abbas
and Midsomer Herne.

The aldermen

of these two villages
are now going to join me

to exchange a symbolic gift.

In the spring of 1317,

a terrible frost struck
the valley of Midsomer Abbas.

Our trees produced no fruit,

and by Christmas,
people were starving.

But over the hill, in the valley of Midsomer
Herne,

the frost had not struck
so savage.

When our neighbors heard
of the famine,

they gathered
what food they could spare

and carried it
over the hill to us.

We are truly grateful
to our neighbors.

And I am once again honored
to present them with a gift...

a box of our finest apples.

Thank you very much, Samuel.

You're most welcome.

Marvelous.

A simple act
of Christian charity.

And 700 years later,
it's still remembered.

Isn't that a lesson for us all?

Go on!

You've been doing a good job behind the bar there,
Alice.

If you ever want a shift in
the Apple Tree, you let me know.

I've got two jobs already.

Why would I need another?

All right, me duck?

Will Green's a dirty old man.

You take no notice.

Pint of rough, please, Alice.

You all right, sir?

I'm not sure
this agrees with me.

Ladies and gentlemen,

it's time for the highlight
of the fayre...

the Horn Dance!

Whoever at the Calends
of January

goes about in the form
of a stag,

that is changing himself
into the form of an animal,

dressing in the skin
of a horned beast,

and putting on the head
of a beast,

who in such wise transform themselves into the
appearance

of a wild animal,
penance for three years,

because it is devilish!

French!

- Your barrel's bad!
- What?

- The sweet, it's ratted.
- Shut up, man!

Don't drink the sweet, it's bad.

There's nothing wrong with it.

Are you all right, sir?

Do I look all right?

I don't know what
he's talking about.

Let's have a look.
Get me a torch.

There's absolutely
nothing wrong with this.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Don't say a word to anyone.

Please.

Drowned in a vat
of Malmsey wine.

I've seen plenty of bodies filled with alcohol,

but this will be the first
to be pickled in it.

I'll have the vat drained,

see if there's anything
at the bottom.

He could've been helping
himself and fallen in.

He took a nasty blow
to the forehead.

He's got a broken neck, too.

Are you all right?

An upset stomach...
I drank some of the cider

and threw up.

Well, try to vomit again
if you can.

Better an empty house
than a bad tenant.

Is that what passes
for medical advice?

Speak to the owner.

Find out who has access
to the warehouse at night.

Yes, sir.

My God, what have I done?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby,
Causton CID.

Hello, Inspector.

The young lady seemed upset.

Well, we all are.

This is an absolutely
terrible business.

Did you know the dead man,
Peter Slim?

Yes.

When was the last time
you spoke to him?

A few days ago.

Did he seem worried
about anything?

I wouldn't know about that.

But I can tell you
that Mr. Grigor

was right about one thing.

The village is awash

with illicit alcohol.

In particular, a local hooch known as “the Beast.“

The victim was attempting
to track down the source of it,

we believe.

Any ideas who's
running the still?

No.

The woman you were comforting... what's her name?

Esme Baker.

I'll be in touch.

Sir.
The owner didn't hear anything.

He was around?

No, says he locked up
and went out.

Sir.

We'll need a timeline up
to the moment Slim disappeared.

That won't be easy.

Apparently,
he worked on his own.

It's pretty remote out here,

and he used his car
as his office.

Then finding that is a priority.

It didn't have
a tracking device fitted?

No. But I've got the phone company's pulling the
records,

and I've asked them
to triangulate the spot

from where
he made his last call.

Jones.

John?

Oh, how are you feeling?

I've felt better.
Cause of death?

I've never seen anything
like it before.

I'm assuming he didn't drown.

It's unlikely.

I don't expect to find
any cider in his lungs.

He was dead before
he entered the vat.

The cut to his head?

Enough to stun him,
but not fatal.

No, I think cause of death
was the broken neck.

Is that so unusual?

I think it's broken
in several places.

I've seen similar injuries on babies that have
been shaken,

but never in an adult before.

Shaken?

Violently, from side to side.

It's as if he's been tossed about by a giant.

A medium-sized giant,
a big giant?

Well, um...

I'd say 40 foot...

maybe more.

Jones, I want a list
of all the local giants.

- 40 feet and over.
- Right-o, sir.

The last call
Slim made was 9:47.

Less than an hour before
his watch was smashed.

Yes, A local number:
The Midsomer Herne kennels.

The owner's called Chloe Baker.

Chloe Baker?

Yes.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.

This is
Detective Sergeant Jones.

We're investigating
the murder of Peter Slim.

A terrible business.

I believe you received a call from Peter Slim
Thursday night.

I didn't talk to him.

That'll be my daughter, Esme.

Esme!

So, why did he call?

About the VAT inspection.

He'd found a few mistakes
in our records.

We've got a letter,

if you'd like to see it.

No, no.

He called you

quite late in the evening
to talk about VAT?

Yes.

We've been through Peter's
phone records, Esme.

You two talked
quite regularly, didn't you?

It was about VAT, that's all.

At the cider fayre,

I saw Reverend Walker
comforting you.

You looked very upset.

When someone you know
is found murdered,

what sort of person
wouldn't be upset?

Who said anything about murder?

You think he fell in that vat?

Any idea who might
have put him there?

No.

Okay.

Thank you for your help.

All right, Sykesie.

Gosh, hasn't he fed you yet?

Oh, God, you look awful.

Did you get drunk?

I had half a pint of cider...

from a vat that had a dead body floating in it.

A body?

The missing Revenue man.

Have you seen a doctor?

Kate Wilding looked me over.

Oh, really?

I'm sure she gave you
a thorough check-up.

All right, Sykesie?

Would you mind?

People in that valley
really are a problem.

What do you mean?

If half their children turn up for school, it's
unusual.

They play truant?

Yeah.
It's the parents.

They don't see the point
in an education.

'Cause the children all end up working in the
orchards anyway.

Perhaps they all end up
working in the orchards

because they've
got no education.

Well, exactly.

Some of them
are really bright, too.

But it's
a tight-knit community and...

Yes, it's so tight
they all clam up

when a tax inspector turns up

in a cider vat
with a broken neck.

Excuse me.

Morning, sir.

Get the feeling
we're not wanted?

So, what have we got?

I've been through
Slim's computer.

Anything useful?

Couple of things.

He'd taken an interest in a barn in the woods
nearby.

There, at the top of the valley.

Take a look.

There's some e-mails, too.

Who from?

Someone with
the code name "Goldcrest.“

Slim had arranged to meet them
the night he died.

Where?

The message doesn't say.

Better find out
who Goldcrest is.

Where will you be?

Getting the buzz...

from the local beekeeper.

Found you.

Byron Street?

Yes?

Detective Chief Inspector
John Barnaby.

You sold me some honey.

I did.

Is it safe to come over?

Yes, but stay clear of the hive at the end.

The queen, she's a nasty piece
of work, very aggressive.

The workers pick it up from her.

The queen affects the behavior of all the bees?

A hive acts like a single bee.

I'm going to have to find
her and kill her,

and replace her
with a more docile ruler.

Fascinating.

Tell me, Mr. Street,

were you at home
on Thursday night?

I'm always at home.

And did you hear anything

unusual that night...
cries, voices?

- Thursday night was pandemonium.
- How do you mean?

Frost alarms going off,
left, right and center.

They started about 9:00 P.M.
and by half-past,

every able-bodied man
was laying down smudge.

Smudge, what's that?

Smoke.

Uh, the frost rolls down
the sides of the hill.

So, we have to light what
are called smudge pots.

Oil burners.

The smoke forms a blanket
and stops the frost

from settling on the blossom.

If the blossom gets damaged,

the trees don't produce apples.

You have to be quick, mind.

Thursday night,
I was the first out.

How come?

The bees know when the frost
is coming.

They get back to the hive sharp.

Of course.

I saw you in the village
this morning.

You seemed to be keeping
your distance.

I prefer my own company.

I can understand that.

Is there anything

you can tell me
that might relate

to the death of Peter Slim?

I've told you enough
for one day, Inspector.

Now, I suggest you make
yourself scarce.

Because I'm resolved
to kill that queen.

And it could get
lively round here.

Oh...
I'll take your advice, for now.

But I'll need to talk
to you again.

Yes, Jones?

Good.

This way, sir.

Good work.

We'll stake the place out,
find out who else is involved.

With any luck...

What's this?

♪ Earth and hell combined
could bring ♪

♪ Against the 'cause
we're furthering ♪

Come on, quick.

Quick, quick, quick.
Come on.

Behold the Beast!

Take him down!

No.
Come on!

Hold on, hold on.

Do not let him get up!

Soon he'll be exhausted
and will succumb.

Hold on, hold on.

Get off me, you madman!

Get off!

Stop!
Get off him now!

Uh!

You're a bit late, Officer.

We're making a citizen's arrest.

You are endangering
these children.

The Lord protects his own.

All of you, get off him.

♪ The drink that's
in the drunkard's bowl ♪

♪ Is not the drink for me ♪

♪ It kills his body
and his soul ♪

♪ How sad a sight is he ♪

♪ The drink that's
in the drunkard's bowl ♪

♪ Is not the drink for me ♪

♪ It kills his body
and his soul ♪

♪ How sad a sight is he ♪

♪ But there's a drink
which God hath given ♪

♪ Distilled
in the showers of heaven ♪

Silas Trout, I'm arresting
you for distilling alcohol

without a license.

And on suspicion of murder.

♪ Oh, that's the drink ♪

You know the maximum penalty
for illicit distilling?

It's five years.

Motivation enough

to kill a customs officer.

It seems Slim had his neck
broken in several places.

How many men would have
the strength

to cause that sort of injury?

It's nothing to do with me.

Where were you Thursday night?

I was with my trees...
laying smudge.

There was a frost.

I know about the frost.

Did anyone see you there?

Badger came by.

Thank you.

Can I go now?

I'm afraid not.

You're going to be held
at Causton Police Station.

The circumstantial evidence

against him is very strong.

He's got no alibi.

Are we going to charge him
with murder?

Not yet.

These are the other calls Slim received the night
he died.

Why was he talking
to the Reverend Grigor?

♪ The Pledge, the Pledge,
the glorious Ark ♪

♪ Which sheltered anxious multitudes ♪

He is triumphant!

The Dark One is vanquished.

Prepare ye the way of the Lord.

For he shall come again.

He shall come again!

♪ And whelming man ♪

♪ In black despair ♪

Enough, my children.

You may leave us now,
while I talk to the Inspector

about the devil's work.

Now, gentlemen, how may I help you to do God's
work?

Why did you call Peter Slim?

To report Silas Trout's wrongdoing.

My followers and I had been keeping an eye on him

for some time.

When we found his lair,

naturally, my first instinct

was to report it to
the appropriate authorities.

And what did Slim say?

He told me
to mind my own business.

Really?

Might that have been because
he already had the barn

under surveillance
with the intention

of uncovering
Silas Trout's network?

Oh, he had a plan, did he...
a grand plan?

Well, while he was planning,

the devil was crouched there,
spitting out his vile ejaculate.

Poisoning the world
one drop at a time.

Drip, drip, drip-

Tell me, have you had

difficulties with alcohol
in the past?

Why do you say that?

It would explain your zeal, wouldn't it?

That was a long time ago.

Tell me about it.
Were you fond of the Beast?

Fond is not the word.
The Beast had me in his thrall.

I was powerless to resist him.

So, I took myself out

onto the high ground
one night in winter.

There was a freezing blizzard blowing from the
north.

But I stripped off
and stood there, screaming,

begging for the Lord to take me.

When I awoke
the following morning,

the warm sun was on my face.

I wasn't dead.

There was a man standing there

and he spoke to me
in a voice so soft.

He said,
"Norman, go and do my will.“

Do you understand?!

I have been chosen!

Jones.

Really?
Hang on.

The phone company have picked up a signal from
Slim's phone.

They've got it triangulated.

Get a grid reference.

We're going to need
a grid reference.

Yeah.

It's his car.

Blood here, sir.

What have we got here?

There's a stick here

with blood on it, as well.

Looks like prints in the blood.

Well, if they belong

to Silas Trout,
we've got our man.

Have Forensics take a look.

Can't find his phone, though.

Ring it.

He was attacked
and tried to escape.

Photocopies of bank statements.

A Swiss account.

So, he threw the satchel away
as they were closing in on him.

Sir.

Looks like
they had dogs with them.

We have company.

Wow, look what we've got here.

Can I help you?

Do you remember me?
I'm Detective...

I know who you are.

Could you tell me what that is?

That's a tree shaker
for harvesting the apples.

Could you show me
how it works, please?

Here, Rob.

Show the man how it works.

Okay.

Watch this.

Go back there, now.

Come on, Rob, run it.

They asked!

I reckon that's blood, sir.

Slim's injuries are consistent

with being shaken
by such a device.

Kate Wilding was right.

Our murder weapon.

What a way to die.

What's going on?

- What are you doing on my land?
- Stay there, sir.

I'm Detective
Chief Inspector Barnaby.

This is now a crime scene.

What on earth
are you talking about?

Go to the mill.

We'll be up to talk to
you shortly, Mr. Devereux.

Are you all right,
Mr. Devereux?

What?

Yes, I'm fine.

Look, er...

why don't you take
the afternoon off?

- Why?
- Because I want you to.

Okay.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

Everything all right?

Got the day off.

French is in a panic.

I think he's planning
to do a runner.

After what he's done,
I'm not surprised.

What's troubling you, me duck?

I don't want
no more part in all this.

It's nothing to do with me...

all the upset with Esme.

Come on, me duck.

It'll be all right.

Living here, we're
the luckiest people on earth.

We're special.

You know that.

And soon...

things are going to
get even better for us.

You mark my words.

Inspector.

Ah, hello.

I didn't realize

this is where the horns
are kept.

Yes, they've been
hanging on these walls

since the church was built,

nearly 700 years ago.

Isn't the Horn Dance
some kind of pagan rite?

It was part of a celebration known as Beltane,

but the early Christians
were pragmatists.

They knew the locals weren't going to give it up,

so they Christianized it.

Today, we call it Easter.

Fascinating.

Has the Horn Dance
changed at all?

As performed today,

it's a vestigial
and respectable version

of what was once
a very savage rite.

It was violent?

Very.

Local men would fight with horns to assert their
dominance.

When did it become a dance?

Some time in the 1880s.

Did you see the man
who just left?

The beekeeper.

He can remember the old men

talking about it
when he was a lad.

The Reverend Grigor...

He was ranting on.

Something to do with...

putting on the skin
of an animal?

“Whoever at the calends...“

that's the 1st of January...

“goes about
in the form of a stag...“

Et cetera, et cetera.

It's a papal edict
that was issued in 669.

Grigor's very fond of it.

You don't seem to hold him
in the highest esteem.

The Pope?

The Reverend Grigor.

Temperance cannot
be imposed upon people.

They have to want it.

Tell me...

when Peter Slim's body
was found, why did you say,

“My God, what have I done?“

I have confidences to keep, Inspector.

No doubt.

But if you don't reveal
what you know to me now,

and someone else
is murdered as a result,

how will that make you feel?

Think about that.

We'll talk again.

Now, this is it.

You follow the scent, okay?

Okay.

That's it.

Go on, follow the scent.

Go on.
Get the sock.

Come on.
Go, get the sock.

Good boy.
You go.

What happened to you last night?

I fell asleep on the sofa.

I had a word with
the truancy officer yesterday.

He told me something you might find quite
interesting.

Yeah?

Well, he has trouble
all year round

with Midsomer Abbas
and Midsomer Herne.

But there's one period each year when none of the
children

turn up for school.

When is that?

Between the 1st and 4th of May.

Well,
the 1st is the cider fayre.

So, what's the excuse
for the other three days?

I'll try and find out for you.

See you later.

I'll get the sock.

Jones.

Morning, sir.

What have you got?

Documents from Slim's briefcase.

Significant sums being deposited at a bank in
Geneva.

Who controls the account?

Well, it's a numbered account.

Numbered, as in we can't see

the identity
of the account holder?

Exactly.

Well, you'd better find out
who that person is.

How?

Lateral thinking, Jones.

Let me know.

All right, Will?

Hello, Samuel.
Usual?

Oh, yeah.

How's business?

Oh, terrible since the trouble.

It's the same over my way.

No one's in the mood
for drinking.

We need to lift people's spirits, don't we?

Draw them together,
have some fun.

- Cheers.
- Good idea.

Maybe we should
have a barn dance.

I was thinking of something
more rooted in our tradition.

You must be joking, Samuel.

There hasn't been
a Stag for 60 year.

Then it's time there was.

We can't let the rite die out.

A few more years, no one
will even remember it.

I'm not so sure.

I could arrange it
so you'd receive

a very warm welcome
at my pub, Will.

What would you say to that?

Samuel Quested.

What are you doing on this side of the hill?

We think it's time for a Stag.

A stag?

Oh!

A stag?

Good idea.

Then it's settled.

You sort things
out your end, Will.

Beltane is Friday night.

And, Chloe...

mind you leave your door open.

Don't you worry about that.

What is it that's
going on here, Byron?

Why was Peter Slim killed?

He was a Revenue man.

You don't think that had something to do with it?

There have always
been Revenue men.

None of the others
have been murdered...

not recently, anyway.

I have the feeling that there
is more to the murder

of Peter Slim than a bit
of illicit distilling.

I'm right, aren't I?

Look...

I don't condone what happened.

But I'm an old man.

And I want to live out
my remaining days in peace.

So, I won't be pointing
the finger.

Is someone threatening you?

This is my home.

It's all I have.

Who killed Peter Slim?

If you want to know
who did it...

ask the trees.

I've cracked it.

The murder?

No, the Swiss bank...

the identity
of the account holder.

- Excellent.
- Thank you.

Devereux has been done
for drink driving... banned.

So, I talked to the cab company.

On every day a deposit
was made in Geneva

over the last two years,

Devereux took a cab
to Heathrow Airport.

Lateral thinking.

Well done, Jones.

The question is, where is
he getting the money from?

Are you a fishing man,
Mr. Devereux?

Yes.

Did you catch that?

Yes, on the Findhorn

in Scotland two years ago...
nearly 19 pounds.

That is a big fish.

Why do you fly
to Geneva every month?

- To ski.
- In June?

Have you heard of drawback fraud, Mr.
Devereux?

It's pretty simple.

You export your alcohol

to a country
where the duty's low,

somewhere like France,
you leave it

in a bonded warehouse
for a day or two,

and then re-import it back
into the UK,

where the duty is high,
and sell it on.

The difference between
the two rates,

you pocket.

Or in your case, you hide it
in a Swiss bank account.

I have no idea...

Peter Slim's file on you.

He had you bang to rights.

- That's why you killed him, didn't you?
- I didn't kill him!

But you admit the fraud?

Uh...

My family have owned this land

for hundreds of years.

The mill started
losing money in the '90s.

I was faced
with some stark choices.

The thought of losing
this place...

the shame.

So, you started supporting
the business by fraud?

The Revenue were the thieves, not me.

Where were you on the night

of Peter Slim's murder?

Look...

I'm a chronic alcoholic!

Can't you see?

All I can remember

is taking a taxi
down to the village.

My mind's a blank after that.

Arrest him.

- On which charge, sir?
- Both.

Fraud and murder.

Take him in,
then call out the SOCO team.

I want this place
searched from top to bottom.

And make sure that Forensics check his
fingerprints

against the prints we found
on the wading staff.

Wading staff?

The big stick we found

next to Peter Slim's car.

Fly fishermen use them
to keep their balance

when they are wading

in fast-flowing rivers.

I'm just off for a stroll.
I won't be long.

Anthony Devereux...

I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder and
fraud...

He's been at this for years.

There's millions involved.

That's more than enough motive to kill Slim.

True.
But he's a wreck.

How could he have
pursued a fit man

like Peter Slim through
rough country for over a mile?

Well, you've changed
your tune, sir.

- You don't think he killed him?
- I doubt it.

So, why did we arrest him
for murder?

If he didn't do it himself,

he probably
has a fair idea who did.

He might crack.

Call Revenue and Customs.

They can investigate
the fraud allegation.

And charge Silas Trout
with the distilling offense

and then release him.

His alibi checks out.

What alibi?

A perfect blossom,
undamaged by frost.

Trout says he was out
laying smudge that night.

This proves
he's telling the truth.

Please, get me a drink.

I beg you!

Somebody get me a bloody drink!

The Beast!

I need the Beast!

Somebody get me a bloody drink!

Uh, come in.

Ah, Prudence,
I'm just finishing my sermon.

Should I ask my father to ring the bell for
evening worship?

Yes, thank you.

What are you doing here?

You grassed me up
to the Revenue, Norman.

Now, in this valley,
that's worse than a sin.

I want you to confess.

I want you to ask the Lord
for forgiveness

for what you did to me.

I did the bidding of the Lord.

Really?

Go on, then, Norman.

Show God how much stronger

he's made you over the Beast.

I will not be tested by you.

Oh, come on, Norman.

Surely you're not afraid
of a little glass

of fermented apple juice?

You see?

Beside the Lord, he's nothing.

First and greatest sin
is pride, Norman.

Pride.

The bell tolls.

I've just spoken to Forensics.

The fingerprints on the wading staff match
Devereux's.

Really?

Okay, how about this?

Devereux discovered
he was being investigated.

Slim had arranged to meet
his informant Goldcrest, but,

Devereux and his accomplices followed him into the
woods,

attacked him.

Slim was dazed, even a wreck

like Devereux
could keep up with him.

And... it was Devereux's tractor
that shook him to death.

My impression
is that the motivation

for the crime is altogether...

more complex.

We need to find out
who Goldcrest is.

Have a think about it.

Uh-huh.

That'll do.

Did you speak
to the Reverend Father?

Yes.

And he told me
to carry on with my duties.

All right.

Let's begin.

♪ Stop, poor sinner ♪

♪ Stop and think ♪

♪ Before you further go ♪

♪ Will you sport
upon the brink ♪

♪ Of everlasting woe ♪

Hi.

I thought you'd finished
looking round.

Oh, we have.
Don't worry.

Could you make a quick copy
of that for me, please?

- Of course.
- Thanks.

Thank you.

Who uses the photocopier?

Mr. Devereux sometimes,
but me, mostly.

I see.

Goldcrest.

Does the name mean
anything to you?

No.

Nothing.

That's not the truth.

Is it, Alice?

♪ Fear you not that iron rod ♪

♪ With which
he breaks his foes ♪

Did Peter Slim ask you to copy

Devereux's bank statements?

He wanted proof.

Of what?

That Devereux was cheating
on the duty.

But Devereux was your employer.

Didn't you feel
any loyalty to him?

There's people's jobs at risk.

Someone had to stop him.

Of course.
You did the right thing.

The meeting with Peter Slim
in the woods.

What happened?

I arrived, gave him the copies of the Swiss bank
statements

like we'd agreed.

Did you see anyone else there?

- No.
- Mr. Devereux didn't follow you?

No.

I don't know.

I just gave Peter
the statements.

That's all I know.

Don't know nothing about
who killed him, I swear it.

What they did to him
was terrible.

Poor Esme.

You're friends with Esme Baker?

Well, yeah.

Was Esme having a relationship with Peter Slim?

I've told you
more than I should have.

Now, I want to go home.

Reverend Grigor?

Reverend Grigor?

Reverend Father, you...

Reverend Father?

- Come here, my child!
- Oh, my God!

No!

No, please!

No! Come here!

Child!

He's gone mad!

I am the Beast!

Help!
The Beast!

He's been drinking the Beast!

He's gone mad!

I'll see you in hell!

Uh!
I'll see you in hell!

I'll see you in hell!

Is there somewhere
private we can talk?

This is as private
as it gets around here.

Okay.

Esme, you spoke
to Peter Slim on the phone

practically every day

for the past six months.

So?

So, if it was no big deal,
why did you keep it a secret?

He was a Revenue man.

Do you know what that means around here?

No one can bring Peter back,

so, please, leave me in peace.

Is that what you really want, Esme?

For the guilty men to walk free?

The men who pursued Peter through the fields with
dogs,

before crushing him
in an apple harvester

and shaking him to death?

Stop!

I think you know
who killed Peter.

But you're too afraid to say.

Please leave me alone.

Esme Baker and Peter Slim

were married here
three weeks ago,

by you.

In secret, I take it?

Not strictly legal,
but they were married

in the sight of God.

Those whom God
hath joined together,

let no man put asunder.

And Alice Quested
was the only witness.

It was a very brave thing to do.

Local girls are expected
to marry locally.

But Peter and Esme
were very much in love.

You supported them?

I was a fool.

A complete fool.

Peter Slim is dead,
and Esme Baker's life is ruined.

Sam, thank God.

How are you?

Terrible.
Terrible!

This place is full of maniacs!

They howl like animals
all night,

they threaten me by day.

I haven't had a wink of sleep.

This is the longest
I've been without a drink

since I was 12 years old.

My head's pounding!

Don't you worry, you'll be out of here soon
enough.

How?
Someone's stitched me up.

- Don't you worry about a thing.
- Eh?

Because you've got
a cast-iron alibi!

This is an affidavit
signed by 12 people,

stating that on the night
of the murder

you were slumped in the snug
of my pub all evening.

You drunken old soak.

You're in the clear!

Oh, my God!

Devereux's solicitor
is saying the signatories

are of impeccable character.

He wants the murder charge dropped immediately.

Fine.

You agree?

Yeah.
We'll drop the murder charge.

Thank you.

This is just what I need.

My dad's out.

It's you I want to talk to.

I'm saying nothing.

Have you seen this before?

I can't bear all this.

I want to help you, Alice,

and I want to help your friend,

Esme, but I can only do
that if you will help me.

I know that Esme
and Peter Slim were married.

And I know
that you have seen this before.

Hangs on the wall
of Mr. Devereux's office.

I want to know if you saw it

on the night
of Peter Slim's murder.

I can't do that.

It was used

to beat Esme's husband
nearly to death.

And I believe

you must have seen it
on the night that he died.

I can't.

I think you saw it in this bar.

And I think you saw someone put it into Mr.
Devereux's hands

as he lay unconscious
in the corner here.

Afternoon, gents.

Are you all right, me duck?

You look a bit peaky.

Best get yourself upstairs.

Take a nap, eh?

Now, what can I get you, gents?

We'll be on our way.

Whoa.

All right?

Very good.

What did they want?

Don't you worry about it.

Right, you boys better have

a few glasses of this.

Ohm

Because...
tonight's the night.

Hey!

One at a time, one at a time.

Hey, the custody sergeant
just called.

They've got the Reverend Grigor locked up.

He was arrested last night.

What for?

Drunk and disorderly,
and assault.

He went on a rampage
in the chapel.

One of his followers
called the police.

He may be a drunk, but he didn't kill Peter Slim.

I, er...

spoke to the trees.

Frost-damaged apple blossom.

The owner of the tree

that came from
didn't lay down any smudge

on the night of the frost.

Possibly because he was busy

murdering Peter Slim
on Devereux's land.

- You going out?
- Won't be long.

I want you to make
yourself scarce.

I've got a visitor coming.

Is that why you're
dressed like a tart?

Go on, clear off.

♪ Wassail, wassail,
all over the town ♪

♪ Our toast is in white
and our ale is in brown ♪

♪ Our bowl is made
of the white maple tree ♪

♪ With wassailing bowl,
we'll drink to thee ♪

Come on, girl, hurry up!

Evening, Vicar.

What will it be?

I know what's going on, Samuel.

Either you call it off,
or I call the police.

You got your ways, Vicar,
and we've got ours.

Honey on your toast, Sykesie?

Did you know that
when the queen bee

goes on her maiden flight,

the workers slim her down
so that she'll be able

to fly far enough away
to avoid mating with drones

from her own hive?

That way

the gene pool

is refreshed.

Yeah, like the locals
used to do.

I'm sorry?

Well, in remote areas,
where the roads were bad,

villages could easily
become inbred...

with dire consequences.

So... on one night each year,
the men from one village

would head through the woods and, er...

couple with women
from the next village.

And vice versa.

That way the gene pool
was constantly refreshed.

It's the origin of
the expression “Stag Night.“

What?

This ritual,
when does it take place?

Beltane.
The 4th of May.

Which... is tonight.

Barnaby.

I think you should know,
there's trouble in the village.

It's getting very ugly.

I know about the Stag.
Where are you?

In the church.

Stay where you are.
I'm on my way.

The night of Beltane has come.

It's time to follow me
over the hill

to Midsomer Herne.

Men of Midsomer Abbas,
happy hunting!

Are you sure about this, Will?

I don't want no trouble.

It's Samuel Quested's idea.

Don't worry.

It's all sorted out their end.

But my wife...

Married to you, I'm sure
she'll be thrilled.

You need to get yourself
manned up a bit,

Jonathan Oak!

Go, go, go!

Whoa!

Go on then, Alice.

Nothing to worry about.

Don't do this, Dad.

Please.

Go to your room.

Do as I say...

Now.

You'll be no use
when you get there.

You won't be running anywhere!

Come on now!

This ain't such
a good idea, Will.

The Stag...

It's from a different age.

We can't just go down there

and have our way
with who we like.

We can't let the rite die out!

To hell with it.

No one's touching my wife.

I'm going home!

You gutless wimps!

Hello?
Reverend Walker?

Try the vestry.

Reverend Walker?

Chief Inspector Barnaby.
Hello?

Not in the vestry.

Sir?

Call for armed backup.

Get Wilding and Forensics here.

We've got to get
to Midsomer Herne.

Hello?

You're breaking up.
Hold on a minute.

What now?

We do what the locals do.

We go over the hill on foot.
Now!

I can't get a signal round here.

Hey!

What's wrong?

It's just me.

They've all gone home.

We should call it off, Samuel.

There'll be trouble
if you go down there.

Too bad.

There's a welcome waiting
for you over there, Will.

Go on!

Go On, Will!

Come on, boys!

♪ Wassail, wassail ♪

♪ All over the town ♪

♪ Our toast is in white ♪

Shut up!

I told you I had a visitor.

Go on up to your room.

Fine.
I'm going to bed.

Sam Quested somehow discovered

that Peter Slim and Esme Baker were married.

- But why kill him?
- Power.

A local girl
marrying an outsider

threatened the old order.

Quested had to assert
his authority over the valley.

It's a cult basic...

you control the women
and the men will follow.

Yeah. But why would
he frame Devereux

and then provide him
with a false alibi?

To get his hands on the mill.

Hey!

♪ Wassail, wassail
all over the town ♪

♪ Our toast is in white
and our ale... ♪

All right, lads!

Go do your bidding!

Yeah!

Come on!

Wahoo!

This is what
we've been waiting for!

Open the door, Nancy!

Old Smudgie's here!

Evening, Smudgepot.

Uh!

Ha-ha!

Heh!

Alice?

It's Will Green.

Don't be afraid.

I'm not going to hurt you.

Alice.

Alice!

Pervert!

Alice!

Go to hell!

As quickly as you can.
We'll be there soon.

Right.
Armed response on the way.

Uniform on their way
to the village, sir.

Good.
Come on.

Samuel Quested...

You animal.

Oh, where are you going?

You think
it's you I've come for?

- Uh!
- Quiet, woman!

No!
You bastard!

Esme!

Esme!
It's your mum, wake up!

Esme!

All right, me duck?

Touch me and I'll kill you.

Thought you could turn your back on your own
people, huh?

You little whore!

Come here!

- Come here!
- Get off me!

Esme!

You bastard, Sam Quested!
Let me in!

Let me in!

Jones!

Quested!
Get off her!

Get off!

What are you doing?
What are you doing to me?

Fat pig!

Samuel Quested, you're
under arrest for the murders

of Peter Slim and Conrad Walker.

You do not have to say anything but it may harm
your defense

if you fail to mention
when questioned

something which you later
rely on in court.

Let me go!

If you know what's good
for you, let me go!

Lads!

Help me!
Come on!

Help me!

Come on!

Keep moving.
Keep moving!

Stay back.

- Let him be, copper.
- Stay back.

- I'm warning you.
- And I'm warning you, stay back.

No, you don't.

Uh!

Going to kill
a copper now, are you, boy?

You think that's
the right thing to do?

Murderer!

Quiet now, girl.

Leave her, Quested, or I'll

shoot you down
like the mad dog you are.

Go on, then, old man.

Have a bang.

Go on, Smudgie, finish him off.

We'll bury them deep

with a cow on their heads!

You got anything to say
before I pop you, copper?

These are your people, Samuel.

Why don't you tell them
what this is really about?

Oh, this is about land,

all right, but Samuel
isn't telling you

the whole story.

The truth

is that he has blackmailed Anthony Devereux

into making
the mill over to him.

What?

You own most of this valley now, don't you,
Samuel?

I own the pub

and four acres.

That's a lie.

You be quiet now, girl.

The copper's telling the truth.

My father had me spy

on the French.

Then he framed him up and made him sign the land
oven

You drunken old soak.

You're in the clear.

How can I thank you?

There is something I wanted

to ask you about, Anthony.

Anything!

I know the mill
is running at a loss.

I was thinking that maybe what you were needing
was, uh...

a partner.

Next harvest,

you'll be selling your apples

to my father.

That's what this
is about, isn't it, Samuel?

- Is this true?
- No!

Come on, finish him, Smudgie.

On your knees, copper.

We don't want
no more shootings here.

You're a thief and a murderer, Samuel Quested.

You're nothing more than
a common criminal.

Your community has been stained by two murders.

Are you going to let this man
add further to the score?

Give me the gun!

Give it to him, Smudgie.

You haven't got a case
against me, copper.

The French left his fingerprints

on the murder weapon
in the victim's blood.

You pressed the wading staff into Devereux's hand

as he lay dead-drunk
in your bar, didn't you?

Got a witness?

I saw him do it.

You shut your mouth, girl.

- I saw him!
- Shut up!

And I heard him send Smudgepot and Wilberforce

to murder the vicar.

My father is a murderer!

You murdered Peter Slim

with the apple harvester,
didn't you?

A fitting end
for a Revenue man...

to be given a little shake.

And when Reverend Walker

threatened to talk,
you murdered him, too.

You got your ways, Vicar,

and we've got ours.

Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?

In the name of Christ...

Stop!

He never did understand us.

Come on, Smudgie!

Take him, take him.

You two, him.

You're an evil man, Quested.

You won't be seeing

this valley again
for a very long time.

Even in prison, I'll still
be Master of the Stag.

The village,
they won't forget me.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Take him away.