Original subtitles

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss when my baby kisses me? ♪

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why does a love kiss stay in my memory? ♪

CHURCH BELLS RINGING

GUNSHOT

WHIMPERS

PHONE RINGS

Aidensfield Police.

Is the constable there?

I'm afraid he isn't at the moment, no.

It's my husband, you see.

He...

He's been shot.

We'd just got back and I found him lying there.

We'd been to church.

Andrew was never a churchgoer, you understand.

When we got back, Muriel noticed the door was open.

BRAKES SCREECH

Welcome to darkest Yorkshire.

A Scotland Yard team?

Yeah, according to Blaketon.

But why?

Well, our own CID haven't exactly been doing much.

And, after all, Gerard is one of their own. Or, rather, was.

You know, that surprised me.

He never struck me as an ex-copper.

He seemed far too...

Too clever?

Too nice.

He was tough a bit of a tough guy in his time.

They said when he collected his gold watch,

you could hear a sigh of relief right across Soho.

What happened when you left?

Villians sobbing in the street begging you to stay?

Oi!

Chief Inspector Merton, Scotland Yard.

Hello, sir. We've been expecting you.

Jack Langford, my assistant.

We've booked you into the Aidensfield Arms, sir.

It's cheap, but cheerful. I think it'll be alright.

Oh, fine, fine.

Having a problem fixing up your DC here though.

The press have snapped up every spare bed in the village.

Oh well, do your best then.

If you can't fix him up, there's always a cell.

Eh, Jack?

Also, we'll need some office accommodation.

Well uh, we're a bit short on space, I'm afraid sir.

Oh well, I'm sure you'll come up with something, Sergeant.

If you put your mind to it.

Well, er... what sort of office accommodation did you have in mind?

Nothing special, sarge.

Um... this your office, is it?

- Breathe in. COUGHING

Your chest sounds all right to me, Mr. Greengrass.

Yeah, well... COUGHING

If you... if you say so, doctor.

But perhaps I should send you for a chest X-ray.

Uh no. No, no. I don't want to put you to no trouble.

You know, I was just checking, you know.

Um... there was... there was summat else I wanted to ask you.

Yes?

Well, you know... you know the other week,

when you... you told your husband

about how Billy Newton broke his arm during that robbery,

although that wasn't how he said he'd done it?

Yes.

Well, would you... would you always tell him?

I mean, like if just the injuries looked suspicious, but they weren't?

Well, that'd depend on the circumstances

and the nature of the injury.

Yes. It would, wouldn't it?

Right, well... thank you very much.

GROANS

Something wrong with your leg is there, Mr. Greengrass?

Oh. No, no. It's er...

It's just a touch of cramp, that's all. You know.

It's nothing really.

- All right? - Terrific. Eh, Charlie?

Aye. Not bad.

I got to say, I thought it was okay before.

Well, I just fancied this colour. It'll pull the birds now.

I'm glad you're pleased with it. Alan spent a lot of time on it.

- We said £12, didn't we? - Yeah.

- Let's make it £15, then, eh? - Cheers.

So, er... fancy doing a few more, then?

Why, have you got one that needs doing?

We might have. See you, then.

- Right, see you, then. - See you.

Didn't I tell you?

Only a matter of time before the work started rolling in.

So, where's he been put, then?

You know that glory hole by the cells?

You're kidding!

This is my office in here. Alf. Nick.

Hello.

So, er... how long are you gonna be here for?

As long as I'm wanted.

Well uh, maybe we could go out one night.

Yeah, that'd be nice.

I know a good pub. So maybe we go...?

- Who are you, then? - WPC Benson, sergeant.

That's supposed to mean something to me, is it?

She's uh... she's from Northallerton, Sarge.

Been sent here for the murder inquiry.

And what vital role are you to play, Benson,

in helping Scotland Yard track down the killer?

I'm a clerk typist, Sergeant.

Oh, well!

I expect they'll be able to wrap it up early doors, then.

Right, you lot.

I need two filing cabinets move in to my new office.

- Now. - New office, sarge?

Something funny, Rowan?

Morning.

- Guv'nor wants to see PC Rowan. - That's me.

Right. You the first uniform on the scene?

- Yeah. - PC Rowan has his own work to do.

It's okay, sarge. Won't take long.

Oh, by the way, any joy on the accommodation front?

Don't worry. We'll find something for you.

I uh, don't mind doubling up, sarge.

Come on.

Oh, well... in that case...

Mrs. Gerard and her mother, Mrs. Wainwright

arrived back from the morning service just after 12.00.

They discovered the body and phoned us immediately.

So it was your wife who took the call from Mrs. Gerard?

- Yes, sir. - Hmm.

So, that puts the time of death

at some point during the church service.

Yet no witnesses remember hearing any shots around that time.

Pretty isolated, this house, is it, Rowan?

Well, not really, sir, no.

It's close to the church in the middle of the village.

Hm. A silencer, then.

Looks like a professional job.

Well, it's hardly likely to be Mrs. Gerard, is it?

The local CID haven't got any ideas.

Right. Thanks, Rowan.

Why the hell did he leave the Met

to bury himself in this hole?

You all right there, Claude?

What? Oh no, I've just twisted myself a bit, that's all.

It isn't like me, is it?

Give us a large whisky, will you?

There's nowt like a good murder in the village

to get your till jangling, eh George?

Well, that's one way of looking at it, I suppose.

They tell me they brought Scotland Yard in cos our lot are so useless.

That's right. Head gaffer's actually stopping here, you know.

Ah well, I suppose somebody in your business

can't afford to be all that picky!

- Same again? - Aye, go on, then.

- Sonny Jim will pay for this one. - You what?

Well, I reckon you owe me one, don't you?

Now, what for?

Well, they came to see you, didn't they? Pete and Charlie.

You put them on to Alan, for that re-spray?

Course I did, lass.

Mind you, if I were you, I'd keep a bit quiet about it.

Right. Ta-ta.

You look as though you'll be needing a Scotch, Alan lad.

Summat up?

So what if Greengrass did put them on to us?

So what?! So if he did, it's bound to be bent, isn't it?

We don't know that. We need the money.

All I did was re-sprayed a car.

Yeah, a car that didn't need re-spraying.

- You heard what he said about it. - Yeah, I heard what he said.

So you think they've been nicked?

If Greengrass had a finger in it, I'd say there was a definite chance, yeah.

So?

So if they ask you to do any more, just tell 'em you won't.

Right, put that down there.

And bring it in here.

Put it down the other side, there.

Right now, then go and get the chairs.

Need a driver, Sergeant. Someone who knows the area.

- Do you drive, Rowan? - Yes, sir.

Right, you'll do. Come on.

See you. Come on, mate.

- I'll see you later then, Sarge. - Now just a minute, Rowan.

I know how you London lads like to stick together,

so I've got a plan to help out your chum.

REPORTERS ALL SHOUTING AT ONCE

Just take it easy. Take it... All right. Just settle down.

Damn vultures!

Can't you do something? It's getting my daughter down.

- Oh, Paddy! - Muriel, how nice to see you.

(SOBBING) Oh, Paddy.

- Thank God it's you they've sent. - Let's go inside.

You see as far as Paddy Merton is concerned, this one's personal.

He used to work for Gerard for years as his DS.

Idolised him. Even became a friend of the family.

So er... careful what you say, yeah?

What the hell persuaded you

to come to a godforsaken spot like this?

Or were you sent here cos you was a naughty boy?

Something like that.

- Hi. - Kate.

Meet DC Jack Langford.

- Hello. - Hi.

Are you staying for dinner?

A bit longer than that.

Blaketon's billeted Jack with us.

How long he's gonna be here?

Until we can find him somewhere else or until this case is over.

How can Blaketon do this?

He's done it, hasn't he?

So...

Listen, I think I can fiddle a few bob in excess.

Why not I take the two of you out for dinner?

Chinese suit you?

This isn't Soho, Jack.

There's one in Strandsford, but it's pretty rocky.

And it's ten miles each way.

Bloody hell.

Don't you miss it? London, I mean.

Not a bit.

Well, the views up here

beat the ones down the Elephant and Castle, I'll give you that.

I don't think I could stand all this peace and quiet.

Ah, you get used to it.

- That was great. Thanks. - You're welcome.

So, what passes for a sophisticated evening up here then?

A game of darts down t'pub?

Have you got something else in mind?

Yeah, I have, as it happens.

Game I play better than darts, with that WPC.

Who's this?

Um... Rachel, her name is.

She comes from, um... Northallerton.

I just love that accent.

Have you got a spare front door key?

- Yeah, there's one on the sideboard. - Oh, sweet.

Right. I'll see you good people later. Night.

- Night. - Bye.

I think Phil Bellamy's missed out here.

Couldn't compete with that sophisticated London charm.

Well, you fell for it!

What are you doing?

I'm just thinking.

These blokes from Scotland Yard...

...they're set on the idea that it was a professional killing.

That makes sense, doesn't it?

Well, you know this village, love.

Any outsider's here on a Sunday morning,

or just scouting the place out.

Someone would've seen something.

And nobody saw anything.

So what's the alternative?

Muriel Gerard.

She's a nervous wreck.

And besides, she was in the church when he was murdered.

Her mother left for church early that morning to arrange the flowers.

She was alone with him for half an hour before the service.

Maybe the time of death was earlier than we think.

Andy Gerard wasn't just a good detective.

He was one of the best Scotland Yard ever had.

Which means he made lots of enemies.

People who swore at that time that they wouldn't rest

until he was six feet under.

So... four men that Detective Chief Superintendent Gerard put away

and who've all been released in the last 12 months.

Every one of them a known villain,

every one of them well capable of murder.

Now, the situation is this.

I've got to go back to London for a couple of days.

But while I'm away,

I want these photographs shown to every man, woman and child

in this area. Is that clear?

Any questions?

Right. Let's get on with it.

Er... can I have a word with Bill.

Yeah. I'll give you a buzz later at the Yard.

- Where were you last night? - I uh, I got held up.

- What about tonight, then? - Sorry. I've made arrangements.

- Nick. - Yah?

If you could've had a word with er... that lodger mate of yours.

You knew I had her lined up.

Just hang around to pick up the pieces. He can't stay forever.

Neither can she.

Rowan, don't think you can forget your own job

while you're swanning around with these London pals of yours.

No, Sergeant.

- Nick. Have you got a minute? - Yeah.

So, opportunity knocks, eh, Nick? For both of us.

What with the guv'nor out of the way for a few days.

How do you mean?

Well...

- To make a name for ourselves. - Oh, right.

Now, what I propose is...

I know your boss is convinced it's an outside job.

What, and you're not?

Well, Muriel Gerard was alone with her husband

for at least half an hour before the service.

Her mother went to church early to arrange the flowers.

It's all there in one of the statements somewhere.

I see. So Muriel Gerard fitted a silencer to her gun,

blew her husband away, then hid the weapon

and calmly went to church, yeah?

Leave the detective work to us, eh?

Now, what I want you to do is to take these statements.

Go back over them again with the people involved.

See if they've got anything to add.

If they have, try and get it in English, eh?

Ya, I just want to check a few points with you, Mr. Shaw.

Fine. Don't mind if I carry on while we talk?

No.

The day Mr. Gerard was killed,

did you see anything out of the ordinary?

- Sunday's my busiest day, Mr. Rowan. - I realise that.

Well, the answer's still no, though.

I didn't see anything that might interest you.

Are you a bird-watcher?

Magnificent view from up here.

I saw a sparrowhawk the other day.

How about hearing gunshots?

Say between about half-past ten and half-past eleven?

No. Can't say I did.

How's that, Mr. Rowan? Come on, it's a bit of a tight squeeze.

Thank you.

That's all right.

Grand view, isn't it?

That's the Gerard house over there.

Shame you weren't up here on Sunday. You might've seen something.

Well I was, actually.

Well, two floors down.

Ringing the bells.

Can't see anything from there.

Mrs. Wainwright.

Her husband's been dead for 15 years

but she still tends his grave regularly.

She'll have two graves to tend now.

Makes you feel proud, doesn't it?

♪ THE BEATLES: I Feel Fine ♪

♪ Baby buys her things you know ♪

♪ He buys her diamond rings you know ♪

♪ She said so ♪

♪ She's in love with me and I feel fine ♪

♪ She's in love with me and I feel fine ♪

It's Dr. Rowan.

Mr. Greengrass, what's the matter?

Shotgun pellets, right?

Could have been, I suppose.

From a gamekeeper's shotgun, presumably.

I just happened to be passing, that's all.

No need to be afraid to go shooting at me like that!

So that was what it was all about.

What?

That nonsense in the surgery yesterday.

You're a stupid man, Mr. Greengrass.

You should've shown those to me then.

It might have been easier to save the leg.

Eh?

The pellets are still in there. And they're going septic.

I'm going to have to get you to a hospital.

I'm not going to no hospital.

As you wish.

But you do realise if gangrene sets in, they may have to amputate.

So, a bit of a lie-in this morning then, eh?

Yeah, something like that.

Yeah, nice work if you can get it.

Got another little spray job for you if you're interested?

I don't think I am, really.

- Oh? How come? - Well, I'm dead busy.

You weren't so busy the other day, were you?

Look, cards on the table.

These cars you want re-spraying, they're hot, right?

- Are they? - Well, aren't they?

What does it matter?

Yeah, I don't want to be involve with something that's bent.

You're already involved, Alan.

Where did you think the other one came from?

The Motor Show?

I didn't know, did I?

Will the police believe that?

Look, I can't help you.

Why? Not even for double what you got last time?

- No thanks. - Cashing on?

I really rather not, to be honest.

Look, I'll tell you what, kid.

Just the one more job, all right?

Just the one, eh, Charlie?

Then, if you decide you've had enough, that's it. No hard feelings.

What d'you say, eh?

- Another one? - That's what they said.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

I know exactly what I'm doing.

If I'd left it any longer, Greengrass might really have lost a leg.

Serve him right, the old devil.

I saw Muriel Gerald in the waiting room this morning. How is she?

Well, I had to increased the strength of her tranquillizers.

She's having a bad time.

Hardly surprising, really.

Well, the murder made things worse, of course.

But she's been on tranquillizers far too long.

Oh, why is that?

Mainly because of that husband of hers.

I can't say I'm surprised that somebody's done away with him.

I've heard nothing but what a great man he was.

Brilliant detective, big charity worker.

Probably because he hoped there was a gong in it for him.

You know, one day, a few months ago,

Muriel came into the surgery with all this bruising.

- Bruising? - Black eye. A real shiner.

She'd walked into a cupboard door, so she said.

Well, it does happen.

Gerard had done it. She told me.

Why didn't you tell the police?

Nothing to do with them.

No. I meant after the murder.

I didn't think of it. Nobody asked me.

Well, you're not suggesting that Muriel's a suspect?

Nick.

You've been keeping secrets from me.

I've only just found out.

You took Greengrass to the hospital.

They called me to report a gunshot wound.

Unless there's another Dr. Rowan.

Never mind Greengrass. I've just found out something much more important.

I don't believe this.

I mean, what the hell is going on here?

Gerard's a wife-beater

and we only find out about it because

a couple of quacks are gossiping about it in their coffee break?!

Even so, Jack, it puts Muriel Gerard in a different light.

Too bloody right, it does.

So what shall we do? Phone Merton?

- No. - Why not?

Because I know him of old.

He's a sly old sod, just like all the others.

He'll take all the credit for our hard work.

You don't get to be Detective Chief Inspector

just by opening doors for people, you know.

No.

What we need to do is go see Muriel Gerard before he gets back. Like now.

Come in here, please.

My daughter won't be a moment.

Thank you, Mrs. Wainwright.

- Hello. - Mrs. Gerard.

It's about the body, is it?

The body?

Releasing my husband's body for burial.

Only the vicar was asking about it.

- I'm afraid not, Mrs. Gerard. - Oh.

But it is about your husband.

Please, take a seat, Mrs. Gerard.

Thank you.

So... would you say you were happily married, Mrs. Gerard?

Well...

Yes, of course we were.

Andrew and I were devoted to each other.

- That's not our information. - Oh?

- Quite the opposite, in fact. - Oh?

That Sunday morning,

you and him hadn't had a barney by any chance, did you?

Andrew and I never quarrelled. Never.

What, never?

- Or hardly ever? - Never.

How long were you married, Mrs. Gerard?

35 years.

At least we would have been this July.

And in all that time, you never had so much as one harsh word?

Not even one?

Well, I suppose we must have had one, yes.

You see, I'm... not very bright sometimes about things.

In fact, I can be quite stupid.

And when you were, he'd hit you, would he?

Andrew never hit me!

- Are you sure about that? - Quite sure, yes.

Hmm...

And what about the black eye he gave you, then?

No!

- He was cruel to you sometimes? - No.

You usually just accepted it,

but that morning he just went too far, right?

So then you just went and got the gun and you shot him, right?

What, what gun? I don't know anything about...

THE gun, Mrs. Gerard! The murder weapon!

Why don't you tell me what you did with it.

I don't know anything about a gun!

We'll find it, you know, even if we have to rip this place apart

- we will find it! - All right!

Now, that's quite enough, do you hear? Quite enough.

How dare you speak to my daughter like that in her own house?

Where do you people think you are? Soviet Russia?

Jesus Jack, you're a bit strong on her, weren't you?

This is a murder we're investigating.

Bleeding chicken rustling.

- Still no right to treat a... - Quiet, listen pal!

That woman you are so concerned about

has almost certainly topped her husband.

And he was an ex-cop.

So what the bloody hell has rights got to do with anything.

Without, this whole thing becomes pointless.

Now, what are you on about?

I'm on about us, Jack. The job.

We're to protect the public, not terrorised them.

Yeah? You know what I think, Nicky boy?

I think you should take a long hard look at yourself

and see what's happened to you since you moved up here to Never Never Land.

Or maybe you just couldn't hack it down at the sharp end.

Right. Well, thanks for telling us, Alan.

I couldn't do anything else.

Give us a bell as soon as you hear from them again.

Right. Well, I'll see you.

- Bye. - Right, Rowan, off you go.

- Go where, Sarge? - Bring in Greengrass.

If anyone knows about those two villains, it's Greengrass.

PHONE RINGS

Aidensfield Police.

Hi.

Sorry, love, say again.

How late?

But the meal.

Typical Blaketon.

Yes, I understand, I understand.

All right. See you when I see you. Bye.

Blaketon giving Nick the run-around, is he?

- Something like that, yes. - Yeah, I know how that feels.

Um... fancy coming down the pub for a drink?

No, thanks.

I tell you what. Jack, are you hungry?

This'll be ruined by the time he gets back.

Well, if you're sure Nick won't mind.

Too bad if he does.

- Hello. - Hi.

I wish somebody would tell me what this is all about.

All in good time.

- I'll be with you in a minute, Alf. - Right.

- Excuse me, d'you know where Jack is? - No. Sorry.

Supposed to meet me here half an hour ago.

I'm sorry, I haven't seen him.

Oh, I'll give him a couple of minutes.

Isn't it about time for your break, Phil?

More or less.

Rachel, why don't you and Phil go down the pub

and I'll send Jack along when he turns up.

I'm not going.

Well, neither is he, if I don't tell him.

BLAKETON: Right, Greengrass. Pete and Charlie.

Tell us about them.

- Who? - They nick cars, Greengrass.

I don't know what you're talking about. Honest, Mr. Blaketon.

You recommended young Alan Maskell to them.

I did?

Well, he reckons you did.

Oh, THAT Pete and Charlie.

Friends of yours, we heard.

No, Mr Blaketon. They are not friends of mine.

I just met 'em, you know, one night, over at Eckerton Dogs.

Go on.

Well, they said one of them got a couple of cars they wanted tarting up.

You know, so they asked me if I knew anybody.

So I, knew that young Alan had just started on his own,

so I thought I'd stick a bit of business his way.

Very generous of you.

Well, it's like the old song, ain't it?

If I can help somebody as I pass along,

then my living's not been in whatsit, has it?

Have they got second names, these two?

No, just Pete and Charlie.

Their names, Greengrass.

Pete Davies and Charlie Hasty.

Addresses?

I don't know. Honest. I just met 'em that night, that's all.

Got a minute, sarge? And you, Nick.

I've uh, I've just had Alan Maskell on the blower.

Those two lads are bringing in another stolen car first thing tomorrow.

Right. Hang on a minute. What about Greengrass?

He'll tip them off.

- Oh, can't we keep him overnight? - On what charge?

I might be able to help there.

Just give me a minute with him.

GROANS

Afraid I'm going to have to lock you up for the night, Claude,

pending further questioning.

- Are you charging me? - No.

Well... I'll be seeing you, then.

GROANS

How's the leg?

Got all the pellets out, did they?

Your missus promised not to say owt.

Oh, Kate didn't. The hospital did.

Spot of poaching, was it?

Poaching! Me?

I had a call from John Rawlings, you know.

Saying he thought he'd winged someone

by accident up on the estate.

Someone doing a spot of poaching,

judging by the traps and snares he'd left behind.

Not that I've said anything to Sergeant Blaketon.

Not yet, anyway.

I think a night in the cells should just about cover it.

What d'you say?

Thanks. That was lovely.

Nice meal, attractive company, a bottle of wine.

What else could a man ask for?

Remind my husband of that when you see him, will you?

I don't understand, you know, how you can be content to live up here.

I think I'd miss the bright lights too much.

It suits us. Nick had had enough of London.

Well, you know what the man says...

If you're tired of London, you're tired of life.

Yeah? Well, he wasn't a copper.

Nick's different from you, Jack.

He has his own ideas of what he'd like to do with his life.

Yeah?

Like being that pillock Blaketon's whipping boy for the next 20 years?

He can do better than that.

You know, you don't have to stay in and keep me company.

I can't imagine anyone else I'd rather spend the evening with.

I'm sure you can find someone who'd lap up all your rubbish.

Let me top you up.

Ah, Nick. Fancy a glass of wine after your hard day's work?

I think there's a drop left.

♪ Oh, little baby

♪ You know I've been away

♪ Oh, little baby

♪ You know I'm home today

♪ And don't you know that

♪ Everything's all right... ♪

Oh. I was just going to use the bathroom. Are you in a hurry?

Not particularly.

♪ ...hold your hand Be your loving man

♪ Let me hold your hand Be your loving man ♪

♪ Let me hold your hand Be your loving man... ♪

♪ Oh, little baby... ♪

Did you get a result last night?

Did I just?

They don't make them like that round here.

In fact, do us a favour, will you mate?

What's that?

Get your mates from Scotland Yard

drag this murder out for another month.

You'll be dead by then.

Ah, what a way to go, eh? What a way to go!

Hey, hold up.

♪ Let me give you loving like nobody can

♪ Let me give you loving like nobody can... ♪

Morning, Alan.

Bastard!

Hold it there, son.

I'll fix you later!

Is Nick gone?

Yes, another case. Not yours.

Um... I'd like to thank you for last night.

No need.

- Are we still friends? - If you like.

Kate.

I really got to get ready for work.

I hate to see a beautiful woman like you go to waste up here.

You're being silly.

Oh, come on, I think you know what I mean.

Get out.

I mean it.

You've got a lovely touch.

Nice person too.

Hi Doctor.

Just smells of carbolic.

Aye, steady, Alf.

Let me get these stitches out.

I'll make sure it's just the two of us, Mrs. Rowan.

- There. Done. - Oh. Very nice.

- Very kind. - Come on, Alf.

Thank you, Mrs. Rowan.

- I'll see you later, love. - Nick.

I want Jack Langford out of our house tonight.

I think I'm going to have a word with my

solicitor about all this, Mr. Blaketon.

Detained overnight without charges.

If I were you, Greengrass, I'd leave now, while you still can!

- Me toast was burned an' all! - Out!

Sarge.

Looks like you've been stitched up!

I want a word with you.

Yeah, well... later, eh?

No. Now.

Look, I haven't got time for this now.

You had time to try it on with my wife this morning.

You what?

Leave it out, pal!

Or otherwise you might hear something you don't want to.

All right, Jack. I'm listening.

It wasn't me. I didn't do nothing.

It was all her.

You haven't even got the guts to admit it.

What?

What the hell is going on?

Nothing, guv.

I've just had a complaint from Muriel Gerard about you two.

And now I find you scrapping in the office.

You've had a complaint from Mrs. Gerard?

She says you both went round there and gave her the third degree.

- Sir... - Well, I picked up on

some local gossip, sir,

which has led me to believe that Mrs. Gerard killed her husband.

- You what? - Hey, shut up, Rowan.

I'm not interested in your fight.

- Sir... - Out you go. I'll talk to you later.

So, what's been going on, then?

Thanks a bloody bunch, mate.

Really terrific, that.

What's all that about?

You mean you don't know? You really don't know?

We trusted you!

A fat lot of good it did us!

What's going on?

I don't believe you, sarge.

You don't believe what?

You're charging Alan Maskell with receiving stolen goods.

I had no choice.

No choice?

It was him that gave us the information, for God's sake,

and set them up for us.

Davies and his sidekick has signed a statement

to say that Maskell was in on it from the beginning.

They swear he only came to us because he got cold feet.

Well, they would say that, wouldn't they?

To get back at him for shopping them.

Now listen, Rowan.

I know you think you've change that kid

from a tearaway into a respectable citizen,

but it's their word against his.

And he did make money from that first car.

He didn't know it was nicked.

That's not for you or me to decide. It's for the courts.

I had no choice but to charge him.

Or to put it another way

you're just covering your own arse as usual.

I'll just pretend I never heard that, Rowan!

- I'm finished. - Oh, don't say that, Nick.

There's no future in the forces for coppers who goes around

starting fights or telling their section sergeants a few home truths.

I shouldn't have told you about Jack.

Yes you should.

What a bastard, eh?

You should have seen the way he went for Muriel Gerard.

Do you still think she did it?

It seems odd that nobody heard any shots.

Only they wouldn't have, would they?

What?

Heard the sound of any gunshots.

Not if the bells were ringing.

Which they always are, or course.

Every Sunday right up until the service starts.

Go on.

Well, Muriel Gerard was seen chatting with someone...

...in the churchyard, before the bells started ringing.

And then she went into the service.

Now if the murder happened when the bells were ringing,

then there's no way she could have done it.

And if it wasn't a professional hit with a silencer,

and Merton can't seem to find anyone...

...then who did it?

Now you're back to square one.

What about the mother?

She came to church early to arrange the flowers, didn't she?

Yeah, the verger confirmed she was in the vestry.

Well, there you are, then.

But he was up in the belfry during the bell-ringing.

So in that time, she could have been anywhere.

Muriel, why didn't you tell me he'd hit you?

What's happening, Paddy?

They think I killed Andrew!

You must tell me the truth. Then I can help you.

What's happening?

Just trust me. Tell me what happened.

Don't you believe me?

Just a minute, Muriel. Just a minute.

We'd, er... better get her down to the station.

- Get her coat. - Okay, guv.

Now look, Muriel, you must come with us.

Now...

you're not obliged to say anything,

unless you wish to do so.

What you say may be taken down and may be given in evidence.

Now, come on, Muriel, let's go down to the station and have a little chat.

- What do you think you're doing? - Come on. Come on.

- They're taking me, Mother. - Come on, come on.

- And I don't know why. - But you can't do that.

Look, you're not helping matters, honestly.

- Mother! - You don't understand.

Look, I realise you've had a shock.

I can get someone to stay with you, if you like.

Come on, Langford.

And there's a path over here. It must be a short cut.

I saw it from up in the tower.

Now she had plenty of time to get there and back

and nobody would have seen her.

They've taken my daughter to the police station!

She didn't do it.

Surely they must know that.

Well, I don't think she did it.

Of course not. She knew nothing about it.

She's frightened of her own shadow, let alone Andrew.

So that just leaves you.

You went to church early to arrange the flowers.

The verger saw you. He gave you an alibi.

When he went up to ring the bells,

you had ample time to slip back along this short cut,

kill Gerard and get back before the service.

No-one saw you, and the sound of the bells drowned the shots.

- Do you have children? - No.

Then you may not understand.

But I'll try to explain.

Come with me.

It's a question of instinct, really.

I was the only thing that stood between them.

His constant bullying and violent tempers.

He'd spent too many years with criminals.

Treated us with the same contempt.

But when he finally hit her...

I couldn't stand it any longer.

But he told me that if I interfered he would put me in a home.

What else could I do to save my daughter?

After all, it is the most primal instinct

in a mother to protect her young.

May God forgive me.

My husband's grave.

My husband's old army revolver.

In India, we women learned to use firearms.

I thought it would be safe by his side.

♪ I know all there is to know

♪ About the crying game ♪

♪ I've had my share

♪ Of the crying game ♪

♪ First there are kisses ♪

♪ Then there are sighs ♪

♪ And then before you know where you are ♪

Well done, Rowan.

You'll be getting a commendation out of this if it's anything to do with me.

Thank you, sir.

So, you're planning to stay up in Yorkshire, then, are you?

Yes, sir.

You've no desire to come back to the Met?

Not really, no.

Oh, pity.

Well, if ever you change your mind, you know where I am.

Right, sir.

Oh, and about that er... little trouble with your sergeant.

- I've had a word there, okay? - Thank you, sir.

All right. Okay. Bye-bye, now.