Original subtitles

[Fireworks explode]

They're not mourning the deceased

in a big way.

[Guests laugh]

[Rings doorbell]

Mr. Barnaby.

Man: Who is it?

It's the police.

What's the matter, someone complaining about the noise?

No, we're not here about that, sir.

I was going to say, it's not easy

to turn down the fireworks.

I'm here to arrest your wife.

Anne Woodrow, I'm arresting you

for the murder of...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, just a minute.

Let me finish, please, sir.

In connection with

the murder of Frances Trevelyan.

You do not have to say anything, but it

may harm your defense if you do not mention

anything you later rely on in court.

Anything you do say

may be given in evidence.

Do you understand?

Yes, I... I understand.

You'll have to come down

to the station with us now, please.

Girl: I don't see why I can't go.

She was my mother, too.

Girl: You're too young.

[Sigh] It's not fair.

Actually, maybe you should think a bit less

about yourself.

Excuse me? And a bit more about Dad.

Ed, listen.

Daddy, please, can I come with you?

We can all think of other things

we'd prefer to be doing today.

Unfortunately, life's not like that.

Sometimes we have to do things

that we don't want to do.

[Rock-and-roll plays]

I'll met you there, babe.

We can't be seen arriving together.

And dress conservative. You know that suit you got?

Yeah, that's the one.

Just one reptile from the local rag

and a wannabe paparazzo... that's it.

[Laughs]

Mr. Woodrow, Causton Advertiser.

My wife says she's innocent,

and that's good enough for me.

That's all I have to say.

Well, can you just tell us, please,

how it's affected your...

relationship?

Good morning, Andrew.

Your big day, today, isn't it?

Oh, yes, my big day.

It's all in there.

Right, we're off now. Hope it goes okay.

I'm going to make an enemy or two,

whatever happens.

See you later.

Come on, Danny.

Bye, Danny.

Woman: Take a seat.

So what are we talking about, an accomplice?

It's possible.

There's a lot she kept back from us,

a lot we don't know.

May well be someone should be up there

with her, in the dock.

Just play it by ear, then.

Yes.

Anything strange... someone making

a lot of eye contact with her,

anyone who a bit shifty, you know, nervous,

make a note.

And you'd better keep an eye

on the victim's husband, John Trevelyan.

He's denied any relationship with Annie,

but I'm not sure I believe him, there.

Got a rock-solid alibi, of course.

She definitely had the hots for him, though.

Yeah, that's the general consensus.

Oh, please, he was the husband of my old school friend.

Annie, we need to be able to trust each other.

I've told you what I was doing there that night.

If you can't explain it to the court, then I will.

And when they suggest that you're a deluded,

obsessive stalker who'd stop at nothing,

including the murder of an old school friend,

to get what you wanted?

Don't you...

It's not true.

I think, maybe, taking the stand

is not such a good idea.

Mr. Woodrow!

[Shutters clicking]

Nice car.

Yes, that's the husband of the accused,

Lance Woodrow.

Man: Mr. Woodrow!

Jones: Wasn't there a scandal

about him and some girl band?

Barnaby: Yes, several.

Mr. Woodrow, Causton Advertiser.

Would you please spare us a moment, please?

You get around.

Could you tell us, how has your marriage been

affected by your wife's arrest, Mr. Woodrow?

I'm behind my wife 100%.

Now, please, could I ask you

to respect our privacy at this difficult time?

What, exactly, was the relationship

between your wife and Mrs. Trevelyan,

Mr. Woodrow?

I just learned something from one of

the witness-support volunteers.

It may be nothing, but he phoned Mrs. Beverley

to confirm the time when he's picking her up.

There was no reply.

She may have just nipped out,

but she's an important witness.

Yes, she is... well, look, give it a couple hours,

and if you hear nothing by then, give us a call.

Okay. You know she's moved?

Where did she go?

The sheltered housing up Causton Road.

I'm sure she'll turn up, anyway.

Okay, thank you. Look, I've got to rush...

picking Cully up from the station.

See anything interesting, give us a bell.

Sir.

Ah, let me introduce you.

Mr. Barnaby, good morning. Mr. Trevelyan.

Can I introduce my daughters, Sophie and Ed?

Yes, yes, I remember.

And this is my mother, Gwen.

How do you do? How do you do?

Well, I hope it won't be too hard for you all.

They're getting rid of me for the day.

You're too young.

It's not because I'm too young.

It's because I don't believe Annie murdered Mum,

and they're afraid I'll say so.

Happy now?

Come along, darling.

John: I'd better get on.

Bye, Mr. Barnaby.

I'm not actually sure what value there is

in your husband as a witness.

Well, I'll leave it up to you.

Well, he wanted me to let you know that, although

you won't actually see him until he testifies in court,

he is out there in the lobby, nearby.

Everything okay? Fine.

I'm not sure if you'll be called today,

but if you need anything, just call

the witness-support volunteer, okay?

Thank you.

[Door creaking]

All right, Mrs. Woodrow.

[Bell tolling]

Bye, Mr. Barnaby.

It's because I don't believe Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing] Mum, Mum.

[Sirens wailing]

Have you told her?

No, I haven't told her anything.

But I think she knows.

Child: What is it, what's happened?!

Inside, in the kitchen. Daddy!

But I think she knows.

[Sirens wailing]

It's not because I'm too young.

It's because I don't believe Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing] Mum, Mum, Mum.

The next train to arrive on platform 2

will be the 10:12, calling at all stations

to Midsomer Malham.

Dad?

You all right?

Where did you come from?

I got an early train and a coffee.

I was expecting to see Mum.

Yes... your grandmother has broken her arm.

She'll be all right, but she obviously can't

do the housework herself, so your mum's gone up there

for a couple days to help them out.

You know what your granddad's like... useless.

How did it happen?

She was up a ladder, pruning an apple tree.

Man: You are charged that,

on the 17th of February last, you did murder

Frances Kay Trevelyan

at her home in Midsomer Malham.

How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?

Not guilty.

[Spectators murmur]

Woman: The Crown will prove,

beyond any reasonable doubt, that the defendant

you see before you, in the dock,

sitting there so meekly, killed...

that is to say, battered to death...

her old school friend,

Frances Trevelyan,

leaving her in a pool of blood

on the floor of her family home.

The reason?

Because she wanted Frances's husband,

and Frances, her old school friend,

stood in her way.

But not only did the defendant kill her friend,

thus depriving John of his loving wife

and their two young daughters, Sophie and Ed,

of their loving mother,

she then went on to compound the crime

with sickening hypocrisy.

Under the cloak of a supposed friendship,

she moved in on her target, John,

to comfort him in his grief.

Day after day,

with little hugs

and physical gestures of support,

gradually sinking her claws deeper

into the shattered, vulnerable man.

Her intention?

To manipulate him into her own arms.

Barnaby: It arrives about 6:00,

so I shouldn't be late.

Oh, your mother's left us

one of her casseroles.

Ah.

Great.

Yeah. Eh, there's always the Taj Mahal.

[Whispering] She'll never know.

[Mobile rings] Yeah.

Has she not?

Okay, I'll check that out. Thank you very much.

Got to round up a witness.

Would you believe, a love-you-and-leave-you.

Is that the Annie Woodrow case?

Yes, it is.

So she didn't change her plea at the last minute?

No. No, she did not.

Do you remember that?

Yeah, you always said you thought

she'd plead guilty, eventually.

See ya.

See ya, Dad.

[Doorbell rings]

You will see the house of Mrs. Joan Beverley

is positioned between

the Trevelyans' home

and the home of the defendant, Annie Woodrow.

You will also see that the Trevelyans' house,

where the victim died,

is positioned at the end

of a cul-de-sac.

Anyone seen going up that road

could reasonably be expected to be going

to the Trevelyans' home.

Yeah, she seemed fine when I saw her earlier.

Mrs. Beverley!

It's cold.

Got any idea where she would be?

No.

[Beeping]

Come on, I suppose we should get something to eat.

Sir, they've just adjourned for lunch.

I've just seen someone who seems a little questionable.

Lots of eye contact with the defendant.

It may be nothing, but...

Okay, I'm coming back there, anyway.

I'll see you there.

Ben Jones, isn't it?

CID.

That's right.

Mark Thomas, Causton Advertiser.

I was wondering, is there any particular reason

why you were in court today?

Seems a bit unusual. Cut and dried case.

Just keeping an eye on things... excuse me.

Hi, a Coke, please.

Hi.

We were starting to get worried.

Terribly sorry.

The witness-support volunteer.

Don't you remember? It was all arranged.

I know it was mentioned. Well, you're here now.

I'm so sorry. Oh, Mr. Barnaby.

You made it.

You haven't been looking for me as well?

Oh, what a nuisance I am.

And my cushion, Jamie.

Don't forget the cushion.

Lower back, the coccyx.

If you'll pardon my French.

Doesn't look like she'll be called today, anyway.

[Ring] Yes.

Jones: Sir, I've just had a few words

with this woman I mentioned.

I think she might be worth talking to.

Where are you now?

Right... we managed to get the star witness here, then.

Right, on my way.

Thomas: I'm just wondering

why Causton CID's all over the place.

Ben Jones was in the gallery all morning.

Seems a bit odd, don't you think?

Probably just making sure the witnesses turn up.

Man: The thing is, we have to weigh out

just how much any evidence

is actually going to benefit our case.

I'm testifying... end of story.

Hi, there.

Jamie.

Talk to you later.

I didn't mean to interrupt.

I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about...

It's just that I gave a statement to the police

and they're insisting that I testify.

Eh, you're a witness. It's your job.

[Rock plays]

Another Coke, please.

You're a copper, aren't you?

I thought so. Where are you stationed?

Must be Causton.

Are you connected to the case?

Yeah.

Then you must know DCI Barnaby.

And so do I...

Talk of the devil.

Prudence Plunkett.

How very nice to see you.

I thought I might bump into you.

Will you have a drink?

I will, indeed, yes.

Small scotch, please.

So this must be your sergeant?

It's "Constable."

Not for too long, I'd have thought.

We were just having a wee chat

about Annie Woodrow.

Ah, do you have a professional involvement with the case?

No, no... I offered to be a character witness,

but they dithered, rather,

so I'm just here to show a bit of support.

Jones, Pru here is

a clinical psychiatrist,

usually the expert witness.

Oh... Of course.

You know Annie Woodrow very well, don't you?

Through Elder Aides. She was a helper.

And, of course, I knew Frances from the committee.

Do you know the Trevelyan children?

Yes.

I think Ed's probably handled

the grieving process better than her sister,

but it's,

well, it's a terrible thing for any child.

Why do you ask?

Um... I saw young Ed today, with the family,

and she told me that she didn't believe

that Annie had killed her mum.

Something I meant to ask you...

did you know that Annie Woodrow

was planning to move away,

back to London, before it all happened?

No, I didn't know that.

Did she say why?

She didn't have to... it was obvious.

She wanted to avoid seeing John.

She told me about her plans

just a few days before Frances's murder.

How she was going to give up her involvement

in the charity because she'd be spending more time

in their London home.

I didn't think it was particularly significant

at the time, but now, I think it may have been.

Whatever, it looks like

Annie's really up against it now,

largely due to your evidence-gathering skills.

Ah.

Were you always 100% sure of Annie's guilt?

Yes, sure.

Is that a past tense I hear?

It's lovely to see you, Tom.

And you.

Nice to meet you, too.

What was that about?

The whole case against Annie Woodrow

supports the idea that she was suffering

from some unrequited- love obsession.

Why wouldn't she have planned to move away?

Avoid all the heartache.

Moving away to avoid "all the heartache"

is the act of a rational person, Jones,

not that of an obsessive delusional.

Anyway,

it probably means nothing.

See you tomorrow.

Girl: Bye!

Woman: Say hello to your mum, Eddie.

Hello! Hello!

[Sirens wail]

Daddy?

Dad! What are you doing? What is it, what's happened?

Inside, in the kitchen. To the left.

Daddy!

Plunkett: Annie Woodrow was planning to move away.

Were you always 100% sure of Annie's guilt?

Is that a past tense I hear?

It's because I don't believe Annie murdered Mum.

[Echoing] Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum.

I think the plant needs some water.

I'll see if I can find some, darling.

John Trevelyan.

Will you be all right?

Hold the book in your right hand

and read from the card, please.

I swear, by almighty God,

that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth,

the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

[Rock plays]

Prosecutor: Mr. Trevelyan, could you tell us

what you were doing before you arrived home

that evening.

I'd been working in the office.

It had gone a bit late.

A meeting with my partner and accountants,

just routine.

And when the meeting was over,

you drove home alone?

That's right.

Can you take us through, please,

what happened when you went

into the house?

I walked through the front door.

I'd parked the car in the garage.

The lights were on, as normal.

[Voice on radio]

There was a radio playing in the kitchen.

So I just walked on through and...

[Voices on radio]

Frances!

I felt for a pulse, but I knew she was dead.

The injuries to her head were just...

There were no signs of life?

No.

Now, moving on to your relationship

with the defendant,

can you describe it for us, please?

We were friends.

Nothing more?

Good friends, I thought.

Quite, and can you tell us, were you aware

of the defendant being attracted to you,

romantically or sexually?

I suppose I wasn't sure.

But you think she may have been?

Miss Flint.

Your Honor.

You weren't sure

she was attracted to you?

Ahem.

I think we understand.

No further questions.

No questions.

You don't wish to cross-examine the witness,

Mr. Bramwell?

No, Your Honor, we don't.

[Rock plays]

Looks like they're adjourning.

So I won't be testifying today.

Let's go home.

And your chicken korma.

Dad, what are we going to do

with this... stew?

Oh, Eric is very keen on those.

Eric is the Labrador next door.

So, any word on how things are coming along at court?

Oh, it's early days yet, but young Jones

is keeping an eye on things for me.

Really, so you think there might be more

to it, then, than you originally thought?

It was never a straightforward case, was it?

But, yes, actually.

I was having a chat with a clinical psychiatrist

who knows Annie Woodrow quite well.

Pru Plunkett. Did you ever meet her?

No, I don't think so.

Yeah, well, she told me something

about Annie Woodrow which doesn't square with

how Annie should have behaved if she were guilty.

You don't think she could be innocent?

Well, all the evidence is still against her.

Dad, um... do you think

I could get a seat in the gallery?

I'm sure you could, yes.

Yes, it'd be nice to know what you think of her.

God.

I slipped on a grape.

What on earth are you doing there?

Oh, thanks.

[Both laughing]

Improved the taste.

[Guests laughing]

[Door opens] Gwen: John?

Are you all right?

Not really, no.

No, of course you're not.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's okay, Mum.

We just have to get through it somehow.

[Doorbell rings]

[Ring]

I'm sorry, babe, I just had to see you.

I couldn't help myself, I just couldn't.

[Both moaning]

[Contented sigh]

God, I love that outfit.

Very executive.

I want you to take something down, Miss Jones.

[Giggling, squealing]

I don't suppose there was any post?

Constable, you will be the first to hear.

I have to say,

I don't think Annie Woodrow is coming across

as the most obviously guilty person.

Yes, well, she's good at lying, Jones.

She's done a lot of that.

Still, there's...

there's always the little questions.

Look.

That's the phone, by the body.

The last number dialed from that phone was

to Mrs. Beverley.

The witness?

The witness... she received a call

round about the time of the murder.

Mrs. Beverley told us that Frances Trevelyan,

the victim, was round at her house

earlier that day, trying to persuade her

to use Elder Aides' charity services.

So that could be what this call was all about.

You think there was more to it.

Mrs. Beverley said whoever was on the end of the line

put the phone down without speaking.

So it may well be that the killer

was the one who disconnected it.

No prints?

No prints.

It was about 10 past 7:00,

and I was just letting my cat in

through the sitting room window

when the security light came on.

It was Annie Woodrow.

Flint: And in what direction

was she going?

She was going towards the Trevelyans' house.

How did she seem to you?

Was she walking casually? Could you tell her mood?

She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry.

Can you remember

what she was wearing?

Well, I remember she wasn't wearing

a coat or gloves... because it was

rather cold at the time, that's why I remember.

And can you now tell us about the phone call

that you received later that evening?

Whoever it was didn't say anything,

they just put the phone down.

And what time did this happen?

It was about half past 7:00.

And did you do

a 1471?

Well, yes, I did, because I find

those sort of calls a little unnerving.

It was a local number.

I recognized it... the Trevelyans.

I thought she was phoning about her visit earlier.

I didn't really want to discuss it.

I mean, what is a drop-in center?

I didn't like the sound of it one bit.

One shouldn't be ungrateful but,

to be honest, I preferred Annie's approach.

She used to offer to do the shopping for me

or give me a lift to the hairdresser's.

But not intrusive, ever.

Nice woman, I thought, friendly.

It's quite shocking to think she's a murderess.

Do you wear glasses, Mrs. Beverley?

Occasionally.

Occasionally.

See, I notice you're not wearing them today.

That is correct.

[Laughter] Well, we're not talking about

reading glasses... Your optician issued you

glasses because your sight's defective,

but you only occasionally wear them.

That's right, isn't it?

I was wearing them that night.

Are you sure?

I'd been watching television

and I was alone.

I'm less vain when I'm on my own.

[Spectators laugh]

I didn't know the Trevelyans very well.

I certainly wasn't aware of any enemies.

I'm sure I told you that at the time.

Bit late for doubts, isn't it, Tom?

Yes. Yes, it is.

There's no good reason, really,

it's just things one or two people have said to me.

Pru Plunkett, in particular.

Pru?

Yeah... of course, it won't count as evidence,

I mean, it's just her opinion, but...

She's no fool.

No, she's not.

Look, George, I've been through all my case notes,

and I can't find anyone with anything

approaching a motive, apart from Annie.

No one.

My mother was too nice to say anything,

but you could tell she hated it.

Your mother was aware of

the defendant's obsession with your father?

Yeah, she only ever came round

when my dad was there.

It was obvious.

In what way, obvious?

She was all, sort of,

shy and little-girly, her big, dummy eyes,

acting like some stupid teenager.

It was creepy.

And then when she used to

come round all the time, after my mum was dead,

pretending that she was...

Miss Trevelyan.

I appreciate

that this is very difficult for you,

but, in a court of law, witnesses are asked...

[Chair shifts]

Not to express their opinions,

simply to describe what they've observed.

All right?

[Door opens]

[Rock plays]

Jamie Cramner.

Come on, let's get you home.

No, Daddy.

I want to watch.

Flint: Mr. Cramner,

you knew both the defendant, Annie Woodrow,

and the victim, Frances Trevelyan.

That's right. I'm an antiques dealer.

I supplied some of the furniture

for Lance and Annie Woodrow's home.

And the victim, Frances Trevelyan?

I've known the Trevelyans for a lot of years.

Socially, through the village.

And were you aware of any... atmosphere,

any tension,

between the defendant and the Trevelyans

prior to Frances Trevelyan's death?

I'm not sure I'd say "tension," exactly.

What would you say?

Did you have any impression

that Annie Woodrow was physically attracted

to John Trevelyan?

Yes.

[Spectators murmur]

Would you say it was obvious?

I noticed it.

And was Frances Trevelyan aware

of Annie Woodrow's feelings towards her husband?

We didn't actually discuss it.

I remember she tried to laugh it off once.

Something about Annie's

schoolgirl crush on her husband.

Do you think she found it amusing?

Not really, no.

No,

I don't imagine she did.

This was her old school friend,

showing an obvious sexual interest

in her husband.

She would have been sickened.

Can we leave that for the jury to decide?

Your Honor.

Do you know if she confronted Annie about it,

or had plans to?

As I say, we didn't discuss it.

Thank you, Mr. Cramner.

Do you know, it's really difficult to tell.

When people are deluded, they can often think

that they're actually telling the truth,

so the normal signs just don't apply.

[Whispering] It's Mum.

Dad thinks he's got

the wrong person in the dock.

But, seriously, is everything okay?

I am serious.

You know, Dad thought

she'd change her plea to guilty

before the case came to trial?

Which case is this?

Oh, Mum, it's the Annie Woodrow case.

You know, the wife of the pop impresario.

And your dad doesn't think she's guilty now?

Well, he spoke to this

clinical psychiatrist, colleague friend of his,

who seems to have caused some doubt.

Pru Plunkett?

Oh, the ex-hippie woman.

[Snicker] Yes, well, Dad seems

to think she knows what she's talking about.

Is he worried about it?

I don't know about that, but...

[Whispering] He's giving evidence

tomorrow, so it's bound to be a bit awkward.

I mean, he says it's just his job

to collect the evidence and then present the facts.

It's the jury's job to reach a verdict.

But I think he feels responsible.

Mummy was quite a difficult woman to love,

wasn't she, Daddy?

Where's this come from?

She was, though, wasn't she?

Relationships have

their ups and downs.

But we all loved Mummy very much.

Okay?

Meaning... eat your supper and shut up.

Why did you say you think Annie's innocent?

I like her.

Shows how much you know about anything.

Flint: The Crown will prove,

beyond any reasonable doubt...

killed... that is to say, battered to death...

She wanted Frances' husband... John Trevelyan.

Beverley: It was a local number.

I recognized it.

The Trevelyans.

Flint: She moved in on her target.

Frances Trevelyan...

Sophie: My mother was too nice to say anything,

but you could tell she hated it.

Flint: Leaving her in a pool of blood.

Beverley: It was Annie Woodrow.

Flint: Annie Woodrow.

Annie: We were friends.

John: Friends. Good friends, I thought.

Flint: Romantically, sexually?

[Shuddering]

[Knocks softly]

I...

I was thinking, Daddy.

What?

I need to be at the trial.

All right? I thought I'd go tomorrow.

You don't have to come.

No, it's all right. I'll take you.

I think maybe I should be there as well.

Thank you.

Annie: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Sophie: Yes, you do! You know perfectly well.

Look, I understand that you think your dad

is wonderful and godlike...

I mean, he's your father, it's natural but,

not everyone in the real world

thinks the same.

I have no interest in him whatsoever.

Why would I be interested

in a dull, provincial corn merchant,

for God's sake?

Excuse me.

Hi, George.

Any developments?

No, nothing yet.

Hey, anything happening?

Not really, sir.

The antiques dealer,

Jamie Cramner, showed up.

Bit odd, hanging around

after you've given evidence.

He's a bit of a womanizer, from what I've heard.

There's no chance he could have been involved?

What, with Frances or Annie?

No, he's got an alibi.

Can't work out that Lance Woodrow, either.

Has he got an alibi?

Has he.

He had the entire girl band Hidden Agenda

recording in his home studio all that evening.

Do you know where Pru Plunkett is?

I think she's outside.

Barnaby: Pru.

Hello there, Tom.

I have a question for you.

Fire away.

Why did Annie go on lying?

An impossible situation... a combination of

embarrassment and sensitivity.

Court, rise.

Barnaby: You know, the Court should hear your thoughts.

Funnily enough, the defense

has finally asked if I'd be a witness.

Have they? That's good.

Do you know the judge in this case?

No, I don't.

Well, I do, I know him quite well.

He's not overly keen on psychiatrists

and expert evidence,

and he does like his expert witnesses

to show the Court due deference.

You hear me?

Loud and clear.

The body was on the kitchen floor.

As you can see.

The cause of death was confirmed

as being the obvious, severe head injuries,

which were inflicted by the cast-iron milk pan.

Time of death?

7:30 P.M., give or take half an hour.

All right, Mr. Cramner?

I'm not very good at the gory details.

[Chuckle] Who is?

Did Mrs. Beverley get home all right?

My lift wasn't needed in the end.

She used one of the witness-support people.

Wouldn't have been a problem.

Her sheltered housing estate is

just around the corner from her old house.

You know, I live there now. Great place.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Flint: Can you explain to us

why your suspicions first fell on Annie Woodrow?

Ah, yes... when I asked Annie Woodrow

where she'd been at the time of the murder,

she told me she'd been at home all that evening.

But when I interviewed Mrs. Beverley,

she told me that

she'd seen the defendant heading towards

the Trevelyans' house shortly before

the time we later established was

the time of Mrs. Trevelyan's death.

The defendant lied.

And when I confronted her with

this apparent contradiction, she told me...

I'm sorry, I'd forgotten.

She had forgotten about the visit

to the Trevelyans' because

she'd been drinking that evening

and her memory wasn't clear.

Flint: Did the defendant mention anything

about the drinking when you first interviewed her?

No. No, she had not.

So she changed her story.

Yes.

And can you tell us what the defendant

told you had happened

in her second version of events?

Yes, she said she'd rung the doorbell...

it was an old-fashioned hand-pull arrangement...

but that there had been no reply

and so she went back home again.

And did she... during this version...

explain why she went to the Trevelyans' house?

Yes, she said she wanted to invite

the family to lunch on the following Sunday.

Did she explain why she hadn't phoned?

Yes, she said she wanted to invite them in person.

Oh.

I see.

Now,

in previous testimony, which we've heard,

Mrs. Beverley described what she saw

the defendant wearing on that evening

on her way towards the Trevelyans' house.

Now, can you tell us why that was important

to the investigation?

Yes... I would have expected to find

Annie Woodrow's fingerprints

on the bell-pull handle, but I didn't.

The only other people to go into the house

after she was there

were the victim's husband... that's John Trevelyan...

and the youngest daughter, Ed,

and they both had keys to enter the house.

They wouldn't have used the bell.

Now, Mrs. Woodrow was insistent

that she was wearing gloves at the time.

That's her explanation of why her fingerprints

weren't found at the scene.

However, Mrs. Beverley is equally insistent

that the defendant was wearing

neither coat nor gloves

when she saw her going

towards the Trevelyans' house.

Do you regard Mrs. Beverley

as a credible witness?

Yes, I do.

So either the defendant did not ring the doorbell

or the fingerprints were wiped off.

I think it's unlikely that the fingerprints

were wiped off.

Other fingerprints, from people who had used

the bell-pull previously, and had been eliminated

from the inquiry, they were intact.

And can you tell us, now, about the footprints

that were found in the flower bed?

Yes, I can.

We found a fresh pair of footprints

in the small flower bed beneath the kitchen window.

These were subsequently matched to a pair of shoes

belonging to the defendant, Mrs. Woodrow.

And had the defendant mentioned anything earlier

about walking through the flower bed?

No. No, she hadn't.

And did she offer any explanation

for the presence of the footprints?

She told me she'd forgotten about it.

Again, because of the alcohol.

And that when there had been no reply,

she had looked through the kitchen window

while standing in the flower bed.

She could see the lights were on.

She wanted to find out if anyone was there.

She said she couldn't see anyone.

And this was, uh, what,

her third version of events?

Well, she hadn't mentioned it before.

And did you offer any other

possible version of events to her?

Yes... I suggested that she was checking to see

if Frances Trevelyan was alone

before entering through the back door,

which she knew was always left open.

She denied that suggestion.

[Spectators murmuring]

Tell us, Chief Inspector,

did it ever occur to you that the defendant

could have had gloves in her pocket

and put them on after she'd walked past

Mrs. Beverley's house?

When she started to feel the cold, for example.

Mrs. Beverley's eyewitness statement

was that the defendant

was wearing jeans, no coat.

That means the defendant would have had to

put her gloves into her jeans pocket,

which I found a bit unlikely.

Why?

Well, they were designer jeans...

tight fit, small pockets.

It also occurred to me that, if she'd had the foresight

to take gloves, why not a coat or jacket?

Isn't it possible that Mrs. Beverley was mistaken

in what she saw, and the defendant was,

in fact, wearing a light jacket,

as she said in her statement?

Mrs. Beverley is not a young woman.

Her sight is failing, she's not always

in the habit of wearing her prescription glasses,

as we've heard, it was nighttime.

Is she really what you would normally describe

as a credible witness?

Ah... I evaluate witnesses individually.

I found her credible.

I see.

Moving on, now,

to the question of whether there was anything

to suggest that the defendant had actually been inside

the Trevelyans' house that evening.

Now, the fact that there was forensic evidence

that she'd been to the house previously

is not incriminating because she admits

that she'd been to the house

several times in the weeks prior

to the night in question, would you agree?

Yes.

So was there

any evidence whatsoever, forensic or otherwise,

that the defendant had actually been inside

the Trevelyans' house that evening?

A "yes" or "no" will do.

No.

Sorry? No.

No.

So, no evidence that the defendant

had actually been at the scene of the crime

at the time it took place.

It went well, didn't it?

Well, we may have raised one or two doubts,

but we still have to account for

your frequent changes of mind.

It's very damning evidence.

I told you, I'd been drinking... I told you.

I think we should have cross-examined John Trevelyan.

Maybe we should try to recall him.

You're not putting John on the stand again... don't do it.

I have to say, Annie, that your consistent denial

that you ever felt anything for John Trevelyan

is making you look dishonest, it's not helping.

Nothing happened.

How many more times...

I want to call Dr. Plunkett as a witness.

Pru?

Yes, I think she can help.

And don't tie my hands on this one, Annie.

Will you please let me do my job?

Lance Woodrow.

[Rock plays]

[Whispering] You're on.

[Whispers]

Bramwell: Mr. Woodrow, what were your movements

that evening, what were you doing?

I was involved in a recording session

at my home with the popular music group

Hidden Agenda, who I manage.

Whoo!

The session went on

from early afternoon

'til after midnight.

Bramwell: And you have

a professional recording studio in your home?

That's correct.

Did you see your wife

in the earlier part of that evening?

Yes, I did.

Round about 7:00.

She seemed her normal self.

Did she mention

asking the Trevelyans over for lunch

on the following Sunday?

Yes.

I was just getting some drinks from the fridge.

How well do you know your wife, Mr. Woodrow?

I know her very well.

So you'd know, for instance,

when your wife had been drinking.

Well...

I don't know what you mean by "drinking."

Well, enough so that she'd completely forget

what she'd been doing, for instance.

Well, I suppose so. Yes.

Hm, I imagine you would.

It sounds pretty drunk, doesn't it?

Now, you said earlier that, when you saw your wife,

at about 7:00 that evening,

that " she seemed her normal self."

That's right.

"Her normal self."

Not that she was so drunk that

she'd be unable to remember things that happened.

[Spectators murmuring]

Apparently, his father was an Oxford man.

Flint: Come in.

Sam.

Tom, come in.

Thank you.

What can I do for you?

It's going rather well, I think.

Yes. Yes, it is.

Lance Woodrow's assistant...

Felicity, I think her name is...

did I see her having a word with your solicitor?

Yes, you did.

I think she's quite a clever girl.

Has her eye on being the next Mrs. Woodrow,

is my guess.

And did she suggest that you ask those questions,

you know, about whether Lance would have noticed

if his wife had been drinking or not?

Yeah, she did.

Ah.

They say it's a no-fault divorce.

But if she's a convicted murderer,

it's bound to have an effect.

Well, she can't claim any expenses

in Holloway, can she?

[Laughs] That's right.

[Doorbell rings]

Not today, thank you.

[Ring]

That's Barnaby.

We're going to have to answer it.

[Ring]

Sorry, babe.

[Ring, ring]

What?

Try to look businesslike.

Mr. Barnaby.

I'm afraid Mr. Woodrow is a little bit busy

at the moment, so...

Uh, Miss Winter, you're dripping.

I had a little shower.

Anyway, it's you we actually wanted to speak to.

May we? [Wipes feet]

Thank you.

Me?

Wh-why?

Just a couple of questions we wanted to...

We wanted to know, Felicity,

why do you think Lance Woodrow asked you

to suggest to the prosecution lawyers

a line of questioning about his wife's drinking?

I... I...

don't know.

So he did ask you to do it, then?

We'd like to talk to Mr. Woodrow now, please.

So much for the supportive husband.

Look, Jones, this table...

I've seen one like this before,

if not this one, one exactly like it.

Chief Inspector.

Mr. Woodrow.

Ah, did Felicity mention why we're here?

To be honest,

I feel a bit awkward about the whole thing.

So why did you encourage the prosecution

to ask about your wife's drinking?

Well, it breaks my heart to say this but,

I've begun to have doubts about my wife's innocence.

What can I do, you know?

Oh, so you're saying

it was in the interests of justice?

Yes, well, thank you. Thank you for that.

On a completely different subject...

this table, I couldn't help but notice it.

It's a beautiful piece, isn't it?

You have a good eye, Chief Inspector.

Where did you get it?

Jamie Cramner. Serious quality.

1870...

1875.

1875.

Yeah, carved walnut. Cost a bit.

I bet it did.

I know where I've seen that table before.

And the vases.

[Car alarm chirps]

[Banging on door]

Mrs. Beverley!

Who is it?!

Tom Barnaby and DC Jones. May we come in?

Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

Come in. Come in, I'm in the bedroom.

[Whispering] It hadn't registered before.

The antiques she had in her old house...

they've gone.

[Knocking]

Oh, ah, I've had a bit of a funny twinge.

The doctor said I have to stay in bed.

Angina.

The old Pearly Gates are on the horizon, I'm afraid.

But then, I never thought I'd get this far.

What can I do for you?

I'm sorry if this appears an odd question,

but you know that lovely furniture

you had at the old house?

May I ask what happened to it?

Jamie handled all that.

Oh, that was nice of him.

And he got you the other stuff, did he?

That's right... It's much more practical here, much easier.

May I ask what the financial arrangements were?

He didn't charge me a thing.

He was very helpful with everything...

the house sale, everything.

Oh, he handled the house sale as well, did he?

Oh, I'm not really supposed to talk about it... yes.

Yes, he did mention that when he heard you wanted

to move, he spoke to you about buying it, yes.

Well, that's right. Ooh, cut out the middle man.

So you didn't use an estate agent at all?

We avoided all that agent-fee nonsense.

He got evaluation

from a friend of his who is in the business.

Oh, Jamie's the son of my oldest friends.

There's no problem there.

Now,

you won't mention this to anyone?

No, of course not, not if you don't want us to.

The capital appreciation tax and the multiple stamp

duty issues... avoided it all.

Um, what did he value the house at?

£310,000.

We bought it

for £85,000.

Did you, by any chance, mention any of this

to Frances Trevelyan?

Well, yes, I did.

But she promised not to mention it to anyone else.

How do you know?

Can you remember when, exactly,

you mentioned it to her, to Mrs. Trevelyan?

It must have been...

Oh, it was on the last occasion I saw her.

Ah, would you excuse us for a couple of minutes?

[Whispering] That's 150 grand less

than what it was actually worth.

At least that.

Then there's the furniture and the antiques

on top of that.

That lady's been seriously robbed.

[Whispering] Bit of coincidence,

Frances Trevelyan hearing about it the day she died.

She must have been appalled by it.

And she'd definitely confront Jamie about it.

Do you think she asked him

over to her house that evening?

Well, if she did, and he went,

it means that Jamie's alibi is false.

And that his old friend Mark Thomas

was lying for him.

That reporter, he was asking me

what I was doing in court.

I thought he was sniffing about for a story.

Maybe he was getting twitchy.

You don't think he was an accomplice?

That's unlikely... I don't think

that the murder was premeditated.

More likely, he was helping out an old friend.

I interviewed them both after Annie was in custody.

She was the prime suspect, everybody knew that.

I was just looking for additional evidence

to bring against her.

On the other hand,

Mark Thomas could know exactly what happened

and be deliberately protecting his mate.

Maybe he was involved in the scam.

Maybe he was getting a share of the profits.

We don't want to reveal everything we know.

If he's that involved with Jamie.

It's a chance worth tipping a toe in water.

Come on.

Mrs. Beverley,

Did Frances Trevelyan

ever say anything about discussing

the house sale with Jamie Cramner?

You're suggesting Jamie was diddling me.

Mrs. Beverley, those things you mentioned

Jamie talking about... capital appreciation tax,

multiple stamp duties...

it's gobbledygook.

Oh, that's your considered opinion, is it, Sergeant?

"Constable."

Oh.

Look, there was no good reason

for you not to talk about the price.

He just didn't want anyone telling you

how much it was really worth.

[Crying] But his parents are my closest friends.

It's all right, Mrs. Beverley.

Let's leave it.

Why are you asking if Frances spoke to him?

We're not sure.

You know, he asked me not to mention it again

when he gave me a lift to court.

[Sigh] Why would he do that?

[Wipes feet]

Mr. Barnaby.

I'm sorry to bother you. Got a minute?

I'm a bit busy, actually.

The court case.

Oh, yes, the court, of course.

I just want to double-check something.

You know, I've got to follow things up.

We've heard a rumor that Jamie Cramner

might have had a bit of a falling out

with Frances Trevelyan

over, um, something.

Mean anything?

Falling out?

Yeah, just before she died.

Did you know anything about that?

I'm sorry, does this have something to do with me,

or are you suggesting that it's newsworthy in some way?

Because I don't understand.

So you didn't hear anything about that?

No.

Oh, okay. Well, thank you.

Sorry to bother you. Carry on.

[Opens and closes door]

[Whispering] [Babbling]

Mark Thomas.

Come here, Joe. Come on, darling.

Oh, good boy. [Kiss]

Mark.

Well, he's not telling me anything,

for whatever reason.

Ah, but he's talking to somebody.

How's Mrs. B?

She wanted whiskey,

but I persuaded her to go for tea.

She wants to talk to you.

Manage to get hold of the estate agent?

Very interesting news there.

She can give a very accurate estimate

because they did a survey on the house

shortly after Jamie had taken possession.

He ordered some renovations done.

She reckons at least 140 grand more.

And there's another thing...

Jamie's putting the house back on the market

and he wants the agent to value it.

Woman: I gave him his coat. I saw him out.

But Frances and the girls are still here

and he's definitely gone.

He was in rather a funny mood, actually.

He said something about

as a "dull, provincial corn merchant, "

he felt rather out of place.

Well, somebody must have said something.

Ah, Lance.

I have no interest in him whatsoever.

Why would I be interested in a dull,

provincial corn merchant, for God's sake?

[Crying]

No, I'm concerned about this, about Mrs. Beverley.

He may try to get to her.

She was safe as long as she was a vital witness

against Annie... now, she's a liability.

This place is totally insecure.

We're going to have to persuade her

to move somewhere else... safe house,

nursing home, somewhere like that.

Should be interesting.

Out of the question.

It's just temporary. I can talk to the doctor.

I'm going nowhere.

Mr. Barnaby.

Do you really believe Jamie is the murderer?

Well, how are you going to expose him?

Well, that's why I want to move you.

Because I think it'll take a little time.

Why, if you're sure it's him?

Mrs. Beverley, charming a trusting lady

out of lots of money may be thoroughly reprehensible

and dishonest, but it is not an offense, as such.

And as yet, we have no solid evidence

linking him to the murder.

As I say, it'll take time.

But you don't have time.

Annie Woodrow is about to be convicted for the murder.

How do you intend to get the evidence?

Do you really think there's a chance

Jamie might try to do me in?

Oh, don't you worry about that, Mrs. Beverley.

I'll warn him off.

Maybe you shouldn't.

If he were caught trying to murder me,

you might be able to get a confession out of him.

Oh, now, I think that's really out of the question.

I think that's my decision, isn't it?

If I decide to stay here,

there's nothing you can do about it.

We seem to be skirting around

a major obstacle here...

if we're going to get him for your attempted murder,

he's going to have to try to kill you.

Yes, but you'll stop him.

One of you can hide in the cupboard

and jump out at the last minute.

Yes, but there are lots of ways in which

he might try to kill you, Mrs. Beverley,

and we might not be able to stop him in time.

I mean, a knife, a bang over the head.

I really do think...

Oh, no, he'll definitely want to smother me.

Look, I'm expected

to kick the bucket at any moment

and Jamie knows that.

If he smothers me,

it would look like natural causes.

He'd have every chance of getting away with it.

So why stab me, for heaven's sake?

[Scoff] Of course he won't.

And when he tries to smother me,

there'll be plenty of time to stop him.

But if Jones is hiding in the cupboard,

how will he know when to jump out and save you?

Ah, could you open

that top drawer for me a moment, please?

That's the one.

Now, can you pass me

that can thing with the horn?

Mm-hmm.

Thank you.

[Horn blares]

That'll be the sign.

It's my evidence that's put Annie in the dock.

And your handiwork.

We have to do something.

This is not a good idea.

Of course, he may need a little jolt

to spur him into action... nothing too obvious.

What had you in mind?

You're up for it, then?

Is that Jamie Cramner?

Yes, that's him.

[Mobile rings]

Is that Jamie's phone?

It is.

He's on his way out.

I hope this works.

Hello.

I've just had a call from Mrs. Beverley.

She said that she'd heard that we were moving

and she was asking what the asking price was.

Jamie?

Uh, well, what did you tell her?

Well, I didn't tell her anything, I just said that

it was early days and that you were dealing with it.

She wants you to call her.

What's going on, Jamie?

Clerk: Court, rise.

[Gavel raps]

Are you going to fit?

Bramwell: Dr. Plunkett,

in your capacity as a clinical psychiatrist,

would you describe the defendant

as an obsessive, delusional character?

No... I would say she is, essentially,

a levelheaded woman who was perhaps

not totally satisfied with her life.

But then, of course, that's true of many of us.

Had you ever seen Annie Woodrow

in the company of John Trevelyan?

On several occasions.

Would you say she was attracted to John Trevelyan?

Very much so.

It was just one of those unfortunate things.

Both being married, and he being the husband

of her old school friend, they both must have felt that

any intimate relationship between them would be doomed.

Are you saying that, in your opinion,

John Trevelyan was attracted to Annie as well?

I'm sorry, relevance?

Your Honor, I'm trying to establish

whether this was an obsessive

stalking situation or an unfortunate mutual attraction.

Go on.

Dr. Plunkett?

There's no question in my mind

that it was a mutual attraction.

There was an occasion I remember

at a charity fundraiser, a dinner dance,

when Annie and John were sitting opposite each other

and I happened to observe at close hand

what was going on.

They both tried desperately

to disguise what they were feeling,

but there was so much electricity

in the air between them, they could hardly breathe,

let alone talk.

And Annie and John are both normally such chatty people.

Before Frances's death, anyway.

You think they were in love with each other?

Embryonically.

But what you're saying is that you wouldn't have expected

either of them to have acted on it

because they valued their marital vows,

they were concerned about the fallout with John's family,

and the hurt it would cause their partners.

Yes.

The frame of mind and motives

you're ascribing to the defendant

are those of a very moral person.

It doesn't sound like the sort of person

who would be capable of the kind of

premeditated murder Annie has been accused of.

I would agree.

But there's a problem with your analysis, isn't there?

This so-called moral person

has changed her story several times.

I mean, let's not mince words... she has lied.

Can you explain

how someone who's persistently lied

under police questioning can be described

as a moral person?

Oh! Speculation. No, Your Honor,

I'm simply asking a clinical psychiatrist,

as an expert witness, to give her opinion

as to why the defendant did not tell the truth.

It is relevant

to the jury's impression

of guilt or otherwise.

Dr. Plunkett, how much weight

do you think we should give

to the opinion of a clinical psychiatrist

in a matter such as this?

I don't think it's for me to say, Your Honor.

But it's more educated guesswork

than complex psychiatric theory.

Just old-fashioned common sense based

on my knowledge of the situation.

Tread carefully.

Bramwell: Why do you think

the defendant lied to the police?

I think Annie lied because the truth

was just too embarrassing for her.

She mentioned to me, when last I saw her,

about a week before Frances's death, she was

going to be spending more time in London.

She said she wouldn't be able to commit

so much time to the charity in future.

But it was clear she'd be giving it up entirely.

I was surprised because

I knew how fulfilling Annie found the work.

I suspected it was because of

how she felt about John Trevelyan

and how difficult she found seeing him so often.

I asked her if that was the case.

She denied it.

She said she had no feeling for him whatsoever.

In fact, I remember

she was actually quite rude about him...

the classic defense mechanism

of the totally and utterly smitten.

I think he left the building. May be on his way.

Jones: Thanks, sir.

Stand by, everyone.

Bramwell: Why do you think

Annie Woodrow went to the Trevelyans' that evening?

I think she wanted

to say something to John before she left.

Maybe something had happened between them.

I don't know.

But I think she was hoping to find him alone.

The garage doors were probably shut,

so she couldn't see whose cars were there.

She saw a kitchen light was on

and that there was movement inside.

She tried to see who it was

through the gap in the curtains...

hence the footprints.

My guess is, she saw that Frances

was in on her own, which was not

what Annie wanted, so she went home.

If Annie had told the police

she wanted to talk to John on his own,

it might, however unjustly,

have implied his involvement

in some kind of affair.

And I don't think she could bear that.

Anything happening?

Officer: Negative.

Ahem, tell me, Dr. Plunkett, have you ever been

proved wrong in your analysis

of a problem or human behavior?

Of course.

So you are fallible.

We can't take what you say as gospel.

As I made clear, what I described

is just an opinion.

Well, and we've heard other accounts

of the defendant's behavior,

and very different interpretations.

Were they all wrong?

I've tried to be professionally objective,

but I accept there is always some bias.

The question is, how much?

I'd like to turn, now, to your imaginative story

of what might have happened that evening.

Man: I see white male approaching.

A version that not even the defendant

has come up with... but then, who knows?

Perhaps she'll change her story yet again.

But courts of law deal with evidence,

not fanciful speculation invented

by friends of the accused.

So can you tell the court if there is

one single piece of evidence, solid evidence,

to back up your extraordinary version

of events?

Who's there? Who is it?

[Footsteps]

Oh, why didn't you say who you were?

You gave me a terrible shock.

You wanted to see me?

You're selling the house.

We're exploring various possibilities.

Jamie, I know what the asking price is.

It's a lot more than you paid me.

It's gone up in value.

I found out exactly what a fair price would have been

for it 10 months ago.

You've shortchanged me by £ 140,000.

You were perfectly happy with the price at the time.

Well, I trusted you.

£ 140,000, that's what I want.

You'd be in serious trouble if I went to the police.

And if you don't give it to me,

that's exactly what I'll do.

I don't know.

You try to help someone out,

and this where it gets you.

You agreed a price, and that's it,

done and dusted.

You want to tell the police

or anyone else, go ahead.

Do your worst.

Jamie!

What's happening?

Officer: Target is sitting in his car.

What's he doing?

He's just sitting there.

Hang on.

He's getting out of the car again.

He's coming back towards the house.

Cutting radio. Okay, this is it.

[Front door opens and closes]

[Footsteps]

[Horn blares]

[Cupboard doors clattering, Jones shouting]

Man: Come on, Jones, we've got him!

[Mobile rings]

Yes.

Oh. Good God, is he?

No, I appreciate that. I'll pass that on.

Thank you.

[Ring]

Yes.

Thank God for that.

I thought Constable Jones took his time

getting out of the cupboard.

But I think I'll survive.

It's actually Sergeant Jones now.

Just got the news.

Congratulations.

Well done, Sergeant.

You know, if that little operation

hadn't gone right,

you could have kissed goodbye to Sergeant

and they'd have retired me on medical grounds.

We'll be back to the station in about half an hour.

With, we hope, another one.

Just bang him up until I get there, okay?

What do you think happened that evening?

Well, my guess is that Jamie Cramner arrived

at the Trevelyans' house just after Annie had left.

Frances let him in.

She was expecting him.

I think that she wanted to give him an ultimatum.

Either he canceled the arrangement

with Mrs. Beverley and the house was sold

through a neutral estate agent,

or she'd tell the whole world what he'd been up to.

[Whispering] Give this to the clerk.

Barnaby: I think she phoned Mrs. Beverley

because she wanted to see him cancel

the arrangement there and then, but instead...

[Dialing]

Barnaby: He killed her.

Mrs. Beverley: Who's there? Who is it?

Barnaby: And then calmly disconnected the phone.

Judge: It appears that someone else

has now confessed to the murder of Frances Trevelyan.

In the circumstances, the prosecution have decided

to drop all charges against the defendant.

Mrs. Woodrow,

you are free to go.

[Spectators murmuring]

[Gavel pounds]

Barnaby: My guess is,

he thought he was nothing more than just

helping his old mate out of a sticky situation.

Well, he'll learn differently now.

[Cheering and applause]

There she is.

Oh, wow.

Fantastic!

Didn't I tell you all she was innocent?

This is a great day for justice.

Come on, babe, I got a car around the corner.

I think you and I both know that won't be happening.

Of course!

You want to celebrate with your legal team.

I understand. Of course.

Call me, yeah?

Nice work!

Nice work!

[Reporters clamoring]

So what do you do now?

I don't really know.

I'm so sorry.

You have nothing to be sorry about.

Oh, I think I do.

You were very good to me after...

Then, when you needed help...

You had your family to think about,

and everything else.

Could we talk?

Please, I just...

I'd just like to try and...

Okay.

Woman: Big smile!

Nice one, Dad.

Oh, thank you.

Cut it a bit fine, of course.

I thought you were really impressive, too.

Oh, it wouldn't have made any difference

without your dad's input.

Oh, not too sure about that.

Now, look, I've got to get going.

Got some processing to do.

You all right for getting home?

Oh, yeah, sure. Don't worry about me, Dad.

And thank you. Thank you for everything.

Bye, Tom.

[Sigh] Love's a funny thing.

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media