All language subtitles for Midsomer murders s13e06

COMMENTARY: What a terrific fight
this is shaping up to be.

Madison Square Garden in New York
is absolutely packed for this one.

What a story it could be if John
Kinsella, from Midsomer Morchard,

were to win this world middleweight
title fight.

Can he somehow find a way
to get the better
of the Argentinean Garcia Latosa?

Defending his title
for the fifth time.

Kinsella in the blue shorts,
remember.

He is still right in this fight.

All those weeks of preparation.

Good left hand from Kinsella
in there again.

Latosa keeps on marching forward.

This Argentinean is so strong.

No, no, no!
Good body shots.

Kinsella will be feeling those.

Every one that pounds into
his midriff.

But Kinsella still looking fresh.

Yes!

The Argentinean with the left hand.

(BELL)
The bell to end the eighth round.

The referee has to split them.

Can I top you up?

Thank goodness for that!

I could do with a breather myself.

It's the excitement.
It's the sleep deprivation.

I didn't realise they'd be fighting
at four in the morning.

They're not.
They're five hours behind us.

And I thought it'd be outside.
Why?

Well, aren't they
in some sort of garden?

Ohh... Madison Square Garden!

So I'm right.
A world famous sporting arena.

Not bloody Kew!

My wife's not known
for her intellect.

Whereas my son
is renowned for his charm.

Ignore him.

Let's hear from Teddy Molloy,
his trainer.

Let's see what he's saying to John.

Keep him safe, Teddy.
Keep him safe.

TEDDY: Get him. Right uppercut.

You heard the instructions
from Teddy Malloy.

TEDDY: Box behind him!

Telling him to work behind
that left-hand lead.

I'm not much of a boxing fan!

You're not alone there.
Not by a long chalk.

I'm surprised that Grace Bishop
hasn't got more of a stomach
for this kind of thing.

TV: Frank Bishop, Kinsella's
promoter and manager at ringside.

Don King's there as well.

I wonder if he'll want a piece
of young John Kinsella
if he can come through this.

Into the ninth round
of this 12-rounder.

The world middleweight title.

Latosa is a favourite for this one.

Good body shots.

Kinsella really teeing off
with that left hand.

Precisely what Teddy Molloy said.

Come on, John!

Good left hand again.

Rattling that jab
into the face of Latosa.

Good shot! Left hook!

Kinsella has put Latosa down!

Yeah!

Working off that right-hand lead.

And a left hook has put Latosa
on the canvas.

The gumshield is out.

No coming back from that!
Dead to the world.

TV: He's going to win the title!
The referee's stopping it!

John Kinsella,
from Midsomer Morchard!

(CHEERING)

TV: And the celebrations begin!

What a performance, John Kinsella!

Taken in as a young boy,
as an orphan, by Frank Bishop.

He's there in the ring with him now,

sharing the moment of glory.

He's now champion of the world.

Ladies and gentlemen!

Ladies and gentlemen,
please raise your glasses

to the champion
of Midsomer Morchard.

Now champion of the world!

John Kinsella!

(CHEERING)

I still can't believe
that you've taken time off
to go to a garden party.

It's not just a garden party, Joyce.

A very grand occasion.

You never were much
of a boxing fan before.

In Midsomer Morchard, at this moment,
it is hard not to be.

That's where the statue
of Tom Sayers is going to stand.

See what I mean?

Tom! Joyce!
Good of you to come.

Looks like we're the last to arrive.

I'm afraid not.
The man of the moment
has been stranded in New York.

John Kinsella?
Flight's delayed. Security alert.

Or, as Frank Bishop said,
'Yanks! One glimpse of a burka
and everyone freaks out!'

Nothing too serious though?
No, they should be back tonight.

But there's no reason why we can't
toast the champion in his absence.

A glass of something sparkly?

TANNOY: All flights from Newark
are being delayed.

We apologise for any inconvenience.

You useless piece of -
Go somewhere else for a signal.

Thank you.

With the press waiting to pounce?
Bloody animals.

Since when have you shied away
from publicity?

This is a top of the range phone.

Just goes to show.
Show what?

Money can't buy you everything.

Don't get too clever, John.
Don't embarrass yourself.

And don't think I can't see you
smirking, Malloy.

You shouldn't wind him up.

Be all right as long
as I'm worth money to him.

You won't always be world champion.

When that day comes
and he's wrung me for every penny,
he'll drop me like a stone.

Just like every other fighter
he's managed.

So what are you going to do
about it, Teddy?

Grace is working on it.

Let's just hope she's had some luck.

Sorry for squeezing your hand
like that.

During the fight the other night.

You must think I'm awful.
How perceptive.

Is that a smile?

Or just your lips
sliding off your teeth?

Gerald is very strongly identified
with Midsomer Morchard, isn't he?

He's the lord of the manor.

Not quite.

He lives in the manor house.

He's the current occupant.

And it is very kind of him,
is it not, to open up the place
for the celebration?

He's a sporting man
with a strong sense of occasion.

And you, are you a boxing fan?

Not really. But I did have
an interest in this fight.

Because of the local interest?
Oh, yes.

And your wife?

Iris? She's not my wife.
She's my assistant.

You're not working this afternoon?!

No. Iris just likes to keep
an eye on me, you know.

Excuse me.

See you again soon. Bye.

Oh, I feel for that Giles! Having
her around him all the time, must
be like working with a stalker!

Don't let her get to you.
Snooty cow!

Fur coat and no knickers.

I bet she doesn't even have
the fur coat.

Holding Iris Holman's hand.
I wish I'd seen that!

I was in pieces
till that fight was over.

Grace, you are married
to a boxing promoter.
How many contests have you seen?

I've lost count.
And it's different when
you're watching one of your own.

Libby! Tom, Joyce, Libby Morris,
sculptor extraordinaire!

You're making the statue
of Tom Sayers.

I certainly am.
That must be a bit hard, mustn't it?

Trying to make the likeness
of a man who died 150 years ago.

It is. But fortunately,
there's some photographs of him.

And you had a live fighter
to pose for you.

John Kinsella.
Before he went off to the States.

Gerald here thinks I developed
a bit of a crush on him.

Mm.
Is it finished?

The statue.
Very nearly.

Why don't you drop by
when you're passing?

I'd value your opinion.

You ought to. In fact,
I'll be there tomorrow.

She did fancy my John.
But then, they all do.

Grace is very protective
about young Mr Kinsella.

She treats him like a son.
He lives with her and Frank.

Might have been better for everyone
if they'd left him in the gutter.

Which is obviously where you've
left your manners. I do apologise.

Can I have a chat with you?
Ha! I finally have your attention!

Gerald!
Good of you to come.

See you later.

Have you no idea how to behave?!
Look who I've had as a role model.

How dare you say that!
I would never be so crass to guests
in my own house.

How about somebody else's house?
Don't be facetious!

I'm being entirely serious.
And you know it.

Oh, everyone loves Gerald
Farquaharson. So charming.
A proper gentleman.

Not like that son of his.

Well, I might be crass.

But it's your louche behaviour which
has brought us to losing this house
and the entire estate!

So what are you going to do
about it?!

You must be the only shopfront
in Causton without a message of
congratulations for John Kinsella.

I'm doing my bit for Kinsella.
Really.

Really.

Every time some part-time punter
like you comes in,

they collect the winnings
from his fight.

Come on! Win some, lose some.

That's not how this business works.

Don't suppose you'd like to reinvest
any of this?

Nope.
Didn't think so.

My family thinks gambling is like
giving money to the devil.

No offence.
None taken.

They'd be upset
if they knew I was in here.

Hm, not nearly as much as I am!

Thank you.

Oh, good idea.
Strong and black, please.

Certainly, madam.

There you are.
Thank you.

Are you all right?

I feel a bit sick.

Coffee doesn't usually affect me
like this.

Shall I get Sebastian?
No!

I'm fine, really.

For god's sake, Iris. I'm driving.
Have a proper drink.

Might loosen you up a bit.
To do what?

Enjoy yourself?

Fine. I'll get blotto and lead
everyone in the hokey-cokey.

Now that would be worth staying for.

But you're not, are you?

Staying.

I'll get the coats.

I'm so proud of him.
Are you sure he's not hurt?

Are you all right?

I worry about you.
I miss you when you're gone.

Husband. More privacy in here.

Are you still there?
So when are you back?

No, I'll be up.

(CLINKING)

Tom! You're not leaving?
It's just getting lively out there.

Indeed it is. Time for a good copper
to be leaving.

Quick brandy?

Oh, would I could! I'm driving.

Keep me company while I have one?

All right.
Good man.

Sure I can't tempt you
to a small one?

Oh, get thee behind me, Satan!

It's here if you change your mind.

Oh, look.

Knuckledusters.
Certainly are.

As used by some of the more
unscrupulous prize-fighters
of the 19th century.

Hello.

One of them is missing.

Oh. Is this case locked?

Used to be,
while I was still married.

Wouldn't want the ex-wife getting
hold of one of those.

She was effective enough
with her bare hands!

Oh, that is annoying.

Who would want to steal
something like that?

It's not as if it has any real
value, even to a collector
like myself.

I've been looking everywhere
for you!

Not now, Sebastian. We're leaving.
I don't think so.

Ronnie! Glad to see you've still
got a shirt on your back.

Local bookmaker.
Good sport, actually turning up.

He took a hell of a pounding
on the Kinsella win.

Did you collect your winnings
from him?

No. I had a substantial wager
elsewhere.

On your way home, Iris?
We were.

Until your son demanded a meeting
with Mr Braithwaite.

What, now?

I'll find them.
No, please, don't disturb him.

You'll be waiting for ages.
Get yourself home.
Shall I get you a taxi?

No, don't do that.
We'll give you a lift home.

Gerald.

It's a straightforward question,
Giles.

Can I get power of attorney?

What grounds do you have
to justify taking the estate away
from your father?

Incompetence!

He's sending us to rack and ruin.

I've a suspicion that Camilla
may be pregnant.

On what evidence?

Coffee. The smell makes
her feel nauseous.

Is that reliable medical proof?

Ask any woman.

She'll make a lovely mum.

Not so sure about Sebastian
as a father though.

He is such a joyless individual.

He certainly hasn't got his father's
good nature, that is true.

Oh, do you know his father?

Yes. Gerald? Of course.

Then you have the advantage
over Sebastian.

He has no idea
who his biological father is.

It certainly isn't
Gerald Farquaharson.

Iris Holman.

A strange lady.
She's not easy.

Giles Braithwaite,
he's just her boss, isn't he?

So why did she come on as though
he were two-timing her?

Ha!

What have I said?

Iris Holman

is in love

with Giles Braithwaite.

How do you know that?

You'd have to be blind
not to see it.

Or a man.

Come on. Come on! We're late!

Yes, yes.

Morning, ladies! The nerve centre
buzzing with activity, is it?

Not exactly.

Is there a problem?

Camilla thinks
I'm taking on too much.

Grace is already helping
with publicity
and the hiring of costumes.

But on top of that,
she's insisting on handling
the charity donations on her own.

Can you think of anyone better
to deal with my husband's
tight-fistedness?

Now this whole event
was Frank's idea.

That might be.

But I'm telling you, it's going to
take an expert to get him to part
with the money we raise.

Call from New York. Frank Bishop.

Mr Bishop, you must be very happy
with the way things have worked out.

Which is why we need to meet
as soon as I get back.

Call round as soon as it suits you.
I intend to.

We've finally got a flight.

The plane gets in at midnight.

I should be with you
about two o'clock in the morning.

In the morning?!

Hardly worth
you going to bed really.

I'll see you at the office.
Make sure you're there.

Two AM. I'll be here.

Morning, Joyce!
Morning.

Grace and Camilla are already here.
I told you we were late!

Oh, dear. Have I dropped you in it
with the memsahib?

Yes, you have.
You naughty japer, you.

Glad to hear it.
Have you got five minutes?

Come with me.

What do you think?
Magnificent brutes, aren't they?

Joyce!

You're right. That'd definitely
persuade me to go to the fight.

Oh, no. No, it wouldn't.

They didn't have posters in 1860.

All the arrangements
had to be hush-hush in case
the police found out and stopped it.

That was 150 years ago.

This time round, we need all
the publicity we can get.

I was only trying to show
that I'd done my research.

Hey, you don't have to justify
yourself to me.
I'm not that husband of yours.

We're very happy
to have you in charge.

Definitely. And just to prove it,
I'm going to leave early.

Sorry, girls. I have business
that just won't wait.

It's very pretty.

It's more like the setting
for a village fete
than a bare-knuckle fight.

Not any bare-knuckle fight.

The very first world championship
fight.

Great Britain versus
one of her upstart colonies.

That would explain
the surrounding razzamatazz.

We've had to raise a bit of money
for charity.

There'd have been none of this when
Sayers fought Heenan back in 1860.

Why not?
Prize-fighting was illegal.

The venue was kept secret
till the last possible minute.

But everyone knew a fight
was going to take place.

Absolutely. Queen Victoria herself
took a very keen interest.

Was she in the crowd?
No.

But Dickens and Thackeray were.
Along with several members
of the aristocracy.

Any of your ancestors there?
Of course!

That's where the fight was staged!

In this very field?
Right in our backyard!

Oh, I'll do that!
It's not heavy.

Even so, you shouldn't
be lifting things.

Do I look that frail?

No, but when you're pregnant...

What made you say that?
Coffee.

The smell of it always made me feel
sick when I was carrying Cully.

I could tell that you knew.
Congratulations!

You don't seem very happy about it.

Oh, I am.

But it's Sebastian.

So it was unplanned.
Oh, yes.

He'll come round.

Just give him some time
to accept it.

I don't think
there is that much time.

You know, Tom,

standing here, I almost feel
as if I was born out of my time.

And I belong back at that
Sayers-Heenan fight

with all the other idlers
who called themselves nobility.

Come on. You're being a bit hard
on yourself.

I don't think so.
The aristocracy were never
the backbone of this country.

The devil of it is
is that I am not idle.

Just never really seen the point
in most things.

What, nothing at all?

No. Of course, I was steered along
the usual route.

Eton, Oxford.

But I spent more time studying
the turf than I did my books.

Ever the athlete, eh?

Afraid so.

And I'm a lousy gambler.

The thrill of the chase
appeals more than the winning.

The bookies must love you!

They send me Valentines!

No, seriously,

what do I do that could be
remotely regarded as useful?

You're a damn good JP, for a start.

Oh, bless you for saying that.

I almost feel good about myself now.

(PHONE)

Mrs Bishop? Why didn't you call me
on the office phone?

Too public.
I need to speak to you urgently.

I don't have anything till tomorrow.

That won't do. Frank will be back
from America by then.

Come to the house this afternoon.
Sounds as though it can't wait.

No, it can't.

Believe me, this is something
Frank Bishop's had coming to him
for a long time.

Why are we here?

We are here, Jones,
to look at a work of art.

Mr Ken Tuohy?

Looking for Libby Morris.

That way?

Thank you.

Ah, Tom.

Ken told you where to find us,
did he?

Not in so many words.

That's Ken. Expresses himself
through his hands.
As does his fiancee.

Oh, you came.

What do you think?

I think that's very impressive.

Tom Sayers, in all his glory.

I wish. It's only just back
from the foundry.

Needs a bit of work before
it's ready for the village square.

Up against the clock to get this
ready in time for the reconstruction
of the Sayers-Heenan fight.

What's that in his left hand?

The charter granting him
the freedom of Midsomer Morchard.

I'd never heard of that.
Because it didn't happen.

But we must allow the artist
a certain amount of license.

More like the artist
working to a commission.

The charter was Frank Bishop's idea.

And he who pays the piper...

Frank Bishop paid for this?

As a tribute to Sayers' links
to the area.

Frank Bishop? I thought he was
surgically attached to his money.

I know folk regard him
as a Johnny come lately
and a bit rough round the edges,

but he's a sporting man.

And that must count in his favour.

Sergeant, are you a sporting man?

I did a bit of boxing actually.

Back in Wales, at a local club.

Oh, good man! The noble art, eh?

Well, I'm not quite old enough
to remember this chap,

but it's been many, many years
since I won a boxing blue at Oxford.

Wow. Fighting days
well behind you though, eh?

Afraid so.

But there's one thing
we will always have.

What's that?

We may be creaking with ring-rust,

but the last thing
to go on any boxer

is his punch!

No, leave the lights off. I've
got someone coming round later.

If he finds you in here,
it will set tongues wagging
all round the village.

OK.

Mr Braithwaite is out of the office.

Can I help?
No.

It was him we came to see.

Do you have an appointment?

We were rather hoping that he
would see us on the off-chance.

Will he be long?
I really can't say.

Are you sure there's nothing
I can do?

How well do you know the law,
Miss Holman?

Appalling woman!
Why does Giles put up with her?!

Because she runs the office
like clockwork.

She gives me the creeps,
wanting to know my business.

We came to see a solicitor,
not his assistant!

Well, she's a little self-important,
but don't worry.

Giles is a professional.

Anything you tell him,
he will take to the grave.

Sorry for dragging you out here.

I didn't want word getting round
that I'd been to your office.

You make it sound as though
the place is under surveillance.

It's a small village. Besides,
there's that assistant of yours.

Now you're being paranoid.

(PUNCHBAG)

Is someone punching the bag
in there?

No.

I'm sure I heard somebody
moving around.

Now who's imagining things.

Thanks for seeing me
before Frank gets back.

It's as well I did.
He's calling by my office
on his way back from the airport.

That will be the early hours
of the morning.

Certainly will.

Must be important if it can't wait
till tomorrow.

It is. Very.
And that's all I'm saying.

Client confidentiality
works both ways.

Johnny, give us a smile, champ!
Johnny!

Get out of the way, please.

Give us a break.
Johnny!

He's had a world title fight.

You'll get used to this, son.
You're big-time now.

Big time?
I'm still lugging my own bag.

Where's the limo, Frank?
Don't be silly.

Limos cost money.
They do, Teddy.

And we'll leave it at that, eh?

First port of call, nice hot bath.

Then bed.

First port of call, bed.

Although we might soak one another
down in the bath afterwards!

You ever think of anything else?

You had me living like a monk
in the build-up to that fight.

Thinking about it is all I could do.
Training's over.
She's waited long enough!

She might have to wait a bit longer.

The first port of call
is Braithwaite's.

The solicitor's?
At this time in the morning?

I got business that can't wait.

Don't wait up for me!
You keep pushing your luck.

Someone will put you on your back.

In about five minutes from now
with any luck!

And I won't be there to pick you up.

(KNOCKING)

Come in.

(MIAOW)

Bloody cat! I just trod on him!

(LAUGHS)
Don't laugh.

Ssh! No, seriously. Don't.

I think there's someone downstairs!

(LAUGHS)
There's someone downstairs.

(DOOR CREAKS)

Get up!

(DOG BARKS)

Here you are.

I don't know how long
I'm going to be with Braithwaite.

What are you telling me for?
You're out here waiting for me.

Forget that! I'm your trainer,
not your chauffeur!

Get Braithwaite to give you
a lift home.

Don't get lairy, Teddy. I might
stand a bit of lip from John.

Because he's still useful to me.

You, I keep on out of pity.

(BANGING)

Who's there?

What's happened?

I nearly got caught trying to take
something that wasn't mine!

Champion of the world and arriving
back like a thief in the night.

Did anyone see you?
I don't think so.

All the same,
you need to watch your back.

No, I don't.
You always do that for me.

Looks like he suffocated.

It's strange, isn't it, George?

The whole place has been turned
upside down and he looks...

Tranquil. Almost composed.

Any defensive wounds,
signs of struggle?

None. But look at this.

He's been struck
with something heavy.

So he could have been unconscious
before he was killed.

Possibly.
Sir.

Your friend has arrived.

Would you look at that!

Tom, awful business.
I came as soon as I heard.

And how did you hear?
Bush telegraph.

Place like this,
word gets round like wildfire.

You know where to find me
if you need me.

Mr Bishop, tell me, please,

what was so urgent about your meeting
with Braithwaite last night it
couldn't wait until later in the day?

I like to get things done,
Chief Inspector.

And Miss Holman?

She was at any meeting
I had with him.

Did she need to be there?

Not really.

Stay where you are.

(TAPS)

Anything?
She's a hard one.

I need more time with her.

I think a more robust approach
is required.

Miss Holman, what were you
doing here last night?

Mr Braithwaite always insisted that
I attend every important meeting.

What was the meeting about?

How would I know?
It never took place.

Mr Braithwaite was dead
by the time you got here?

Of course he was.
I didn't murder him.

Why didn't you contact the police?

Do you think I was in any state
to do that?

Miss Holman, would you get me
Mr Braithwaite's appointments diary,
please?

When you've had your moment.

Mr Bishop.

Mr Bishop, how upset was Miss Holman
when you met up with her last night?

Practically hysterical.

Mr Malloy.

Is that true? What he just said
about Miss Holman.

I was sat in the car. It was a good
while before Frank called me inside.

How come?
He talked to her for a few minutes.

I could see them through the window.

Was he just talking to her
or comforting her?

How can I tell?

Did he have an arm around her?

I don't think she's the sort of
woman you put your arms round
under any circumstances.

Going out.

And there was me thinking
you'd come to take an interest
in what I'm doing.

How many more times
do you want me to look at it?

Jealous of my other man?

That's not funny.
He's made of bronze!

I don't think so.

Frank's in bed.

Jet lag.
And he's been up all night.

Is it true he found the body?

It's true he found Mr Braithwaite.

Whether Mr Braithwaite was alive
or dead at the time,
we're still looking at that.

What do you mean?

Why did you ask Giles Braithwaite
to come here yesterday afternoon?

That's between me and him.

As he's now dead, you're the only
one who can tell us.

And, Mrs Bishop, since this
is a murder investigation,

we do have every right to know.

I wanted to ask
about getting a divorce.

On what grounds?

How long have you got?

Why the secrecy?

Your husband has got to know
some time.

The longer I can keep it from him,
the better.

Where Frank and money is concerned,
you need to get the jump on him

to stand any chance
of getting what you're due.

Teddy Malloy?
What about him?

Where can we find him?

Oh. Come with me.

(DOOR)

Good.

Grace? We're working.

They wanted to see you.
I thought you were on your own.

Mr Malloy, thank you.

John Kinsella.

Uggghh!

He was with you and Mr Bishop
when you travelled back
on the plane from New York.

You know he was.

Why wasn't he with you in the car
when you went round
to Braithwaite's office?

He was with me.

I asked Teddy to drive him
straight back here from the airport.

Sounds as though you've got him
under some sort of curfew.

You don't know about his reputation
with women.

If you let him off the leash
straight after a fight,

there's no holding him back
as far as women are concerned.

Lock up your daughters?
And your wives.

Mothers.

Girlfriends.

I saw Teddy Malloy fight.
Did you?

That must have been some time ago.

My grandad took me to see
this Welsh boxer that was fighting
on the undercard.

A Frank Bishop promotion.
Malloy was top of the bill.

Fighting for the British title.
Youngest-ever challenger.

Why didn't you mention that to him?
He lost.

Badly?
He never fought again.

I know!

Not interrupting anything, are we?

Just checking to see that my
Tom Sayers is fit enough to toe
the line against John Heenan.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Is that tender?

Yeah, just a bit.
You need witch-hazel on it.

I don't do voodoo remedies.

Honestly, Chief Inspector,
he's such a baby!

Two fights in three days
and I'm a baby?

Oh, pooh! This one will be
more like playing pattacake.

It's only pretend.
Make sure your husband knows that.

He's a pussycat.

Now we all know that's not true.

Can I get something clear?
You are playing Tom Sayers.

And Sebastian Farquaharson,
he's doing John Heenan?

Mm-hm.
Bit of a mismatch.

No. Tom Sayers was a middleweight
and Heenan was a heavyweight.

No, no. I mean him
being a world champion.

Oh, I see! Well, Seb is
a second-row forward for
the Midsomer County rugby team.

So he's no stranger to a brawl.

Besides, he and John are only
going through the motions.

They're not really fighting,
are they?

Mrs Farquaharson, Mrs Farquaharson,
you wanted to see Giles Braithwaite
yesterday, yes?

What about?

That's a personal matter.

You're going to have to tell them,
Millie.

I can give you any answers you need.

I was with Camilla yesterday.

Thanks, Tom. Camilla's been
a bit emotional of late.

She would be, wouldn't she?
The pregnancy.

You know about that. It's exactly
why it's not the right time
to be thinking about a divorce.

Another one.

Is that why she went to see
Braithwaite?

Yes.

And you were quite prepared
to support her in this?

You saw the way Sebastian treated
her the other night. It's not
an isolated incident.

I'm ashamed to say
my son is a bully.

Iris Holman says that Sebastian
is not your son.

(PHONE)

Oh, that woman really has become
very bitter.

Is it true?

He was fathered by another man
before my wife walked out on me
and Sebastian.

Is Sebastian in touch
with his natural father?

Not unless he goes to seances.
The man was a playboy.
Drank himself to death.

So you raised another man's child.

I raised my son.

Which is why I feel responsible
for the way he's treating
that poor girl.

Can we get this over with quickly?

Busy man, Mr Farquaharson?

If you must know,
I find it all rather upsetting.

Oh, really.

How many times have I told you
it's got to look better than that?

Come on! Pull your finger out!

Giles was a friend of the family.

Was it family business that you
wanted to see him about so urgently?

As a matter of fact, it was.

Sebastian, shouldn't you be talking
to your father about that,

rather than to a solicitor?
I've given up with him.

The sooner the estate is made over
to my name, the sooner we can stop
him haemorrhaging money from it.

What do you mean by that?

Everyone knows about his gambling.

The son stabbing his father
in the back.

Not a good way to uphold
the family name.

You're wrong.

It's precisely the way to do it.

Lock up the lunatics, keep the
incompetents away from the finances,

and leave the running of things to
those who know what they're doing.

Oh, survival of the fittest.

What a wonderful philosophy
to pass on to your child.

I don't have a child.

You soon will have.

You say that as though
it's something to do with me.

Well, isn't it?

I'm not sure who the father is.

But the child is not mine.

I'm absolutely certain of that.

Jab, jab, jab!

Jab, jab, jab.

Frank!

Didn't expect you up yet.

I bet you didn't.

Ken Tuohy. What was he doing here?

Usual story. He told me
he'd done a bit of boxing
and wanted me to have a look at him.

And?
Nothing special.

Just a one-off, then?
Absolutely.

That's all right, then.

Because if I thought
he'd been here more than once,

I'd have to start wondering
what you're up to.

You and this...loving wife of mine.

Gerald... He deserves
a better son than Sebastian.

Gerald's no saint, sir.

You know about his gambling habits.
That's not it, Jones.

Gerald is a JP.

He's a pillar of society.

He's one of us.

This challenge for the estate
is all to do with Sebastian
not being a biological heir.

He seems convinced
the child's not his.

That's what I'm talking about.
It's all about inheritance.

Do you think Frank believes you
about Tuohy?

If he didn't, he wouldn't
have left it at that.

You know what he's like.
I can show you the scars.

I've already seen them.

You don't think Frank killed
that solicitor, do you?

You know the temper on him.

He had no reason
to lose it with Braithwaite.

Unless Frank found out that
he'd been to the house.

And what we were really
talking about.

How could he know?
Iris Holman.

She's got her nose in everything
at that office.

That's not healthy for us.

Or for her.

Just imagine, 150 years ago,

men were driving ring-posts into
the ground in exactly that spot.

Maybe not exactly that spot.

Two men fight in the street,
we arrest them.

Put them in a ring,
we pay to watch it.

That's because we know how lonely
the ring can be.

A dark and brutal place.

Takes a special kind of courage
for someone to get in there

and keep going back again and again.

Something you would know about.
Me?

Never wore a pair
of boxing gloves in my life.

I mean as a police officer.

You need that sort of courage to
face the darkness and brutality

that the public
need to be shielded from.

(WHISTLING)

Oh. Excuse me, gentlemen.

With any luck, they've struck oil.

Us being like boxers?

An interesting comparison.

Oh, a very perceptive one, Jones.

Ta. A little different from
the usual village issues
we find ourselves dealing with.

Iris!
Sebastian.

Can I help? Or have you come
to see my father?

I've come to ask you
if you killed Giles.

Funny, that. I've been wanting
to ask you the same question.

Pass it up.

You were up at Oxford at the same
time as Giles Braithwaite.
Were you friends?

Not close. I knew him well enough.

Well enough to know if he
were...capable of blackmailing
any of his clients?

Giles? A blackmailer?

That's absolutely
out of the question.

That's one theory you can discount.

That is pretty emphatic.

Seriously, Tom. I'd stake
everything I have on that.

Shame he's such a lousy gambler.

What do you want, Bishop?

Not you. I've come to see
the man of the house.

You've a damn nerve
coming here at all!

Are you going to set the dogs on me?
Why give them all the pleasure?

Sebastian! Inside the house! Now!

This is not finished.

Sorry about that, Frank.

What was that about?
No idea.

All a bit mad, aren't they,
the aristocracy?

All that inbreeding.
You just have to accept it.

Even though it means
a wasted journey?

What makes you say that?
You came here to see someone.

Gerald. But it can wait.

Wouldn't want to get in the way
of some father and son bonding.

Happy families, eh?
Mr Bishop.

Did you know that your wife
is planning to divorce you?

She's been planning that for years,
Chief Inspector.

It's what gets her out of bed
in the mornings.

Frank Bishop? Here? It's never
going to happen. I won't let it.

There's nothing we can do about it.
It's out of our hands.

We'll see about that.

A word!

So you were talking to Braithwaite
about a divorce.

Are you surprised?
Yes.

Surprised you didn't insult anyone's
intelligence with a story like that.

I don't know why you went.
But Malloy and Kinsella are bound
to be mixed up in whatever it is.

Why is it so impossible to believe
that I just want a divorce?

Because divorce
wouldn't be enough for you.

That's very splendid.

You must be very proud
of your fiancee.

Apparently not.

Not a match made in heaven,
Chief Inspector.

No celestial choirs singing
when you met, then.

Afraid not. But when I first
laid eyes on the studio space
at the back of his forge...

Is that how you two
first got together?

You bet. And you've seen
those muscles.

I was happy enough to engage him
at close quarters.

(LAUGHS)

But that's not the same thing
as being properly engaged.

True. But Ken couldn't quite
make the distinction.

So I've had to be his fiancee
until I finish the statue.

And then what?

And then I'm off to the US of A
on a single ticket.

As in you're not coming back.

As in I'm going on my own.

I thought there'd be a lot of work
for blacksmiths in America.

In Moose Jaw, Wyoming, maybe.

But I'm going to Chicago.

Does Ken know this?

Of course. What do you take me for?

Don't answer that, sir.

Oi!

This local horse-shoer
or whatever he is.

Ken Tuohy?

He's got about as much chance
of making it as a fighter
as you have as a manager.

Who says I want to be a manager?

Look, if it had just been Tuohy,
I would have done
what I've always done.

Laugh at you.

But when you get ideas
about managing Kinsella,
I started to get annoyed.

Maybe we're prepared to risk it.

One word - contract.

Kinsella is tied to me.
He's going nowhere. But you are.

I'm sick of you. I want you
to clear your stuff out of the gym.

And be gone by the time
the fight's over this afternoon.

All right?

(CHATTING)

(LAUGHS)

This makes a change.
You helping him into his clothes
rather than out of them.

I'm glad he sacked me.
I'm finally free of him.

We can be together now.

You know I can't leave John.

He's like a son to me.
And me!

He'll come with us.
That was always the plan.

Teddy, the plan was to get him
out of his contract.

And unless that happens,
we're going nowhere.

Not while Frank's still around.

He only went to get his costume on!

Grace, Frank should be here by now.

Relax. He's never missed
a photo opportunity yet.

Could you see what's holding him up?

Frank!

Frank?

Joyce, do you think
Frank Bishop would mind
if someone else did the unveiling?

The whole event was his idea.

And his money paid for the statue.

I suppose he would be put out if
somebody else took the limelight.

Just a bit.

All the same, if Grace can't find
him, will you do the honours?

Me?!

In your capacity as Queen Victoria.

Get ready. You're on!

My lords, ladies and gentlemen!

I bring you a contest which pits
the old world against the new.

One, a misguided son
of Yankee-shire!

(BOOING)

We'll learn that the hand of the
foreigner, when raised against
the son of Britannia...

(CHEERING)

..must be aided not only
by the strength of a lion,

but by the heart too.

(CHEERING)

They didn't go much for
impartiality in those days.

I doubt very much whether
our gentleman from the colonies
will be roaring

when he's had the shine
taken off him

by our own Tom Sayer!

(CHEERING)

And now I will ask you all
to join me

in showing an invader...

(BOOING)

..how he is welcomed to the shores
of Great Britain.

Mr John Heenan!

(BOOING)

Last-minute switch.

They're only pretending!
Your Ken will be all right.

It's not Ken that I'm worried about.
It's John.

My John is champion of the world,
love.

He knows how to take care
of himself.

You don't know
what Ken's capable of.

He's got the strength of a bull
when he's angry.
And he's way beyond angry.

You and my John have been...

And your fiance has found out?

Right now, all he wants to do is
rip John's head off his shoulders.

(CHEERING)

Gentlemen, please
come up to scratch!

You will continue fighting
until one of you is in no fit state
to continue.

A round will end when one of you
is knocked to the ground.

Remember the significance and
dignity of this historic occasion.

Biting and gouging

in moderation only, gentlemen.

Please go to your corners.

And come out fighting!
(BELL)

(CHEERING)

Ken!

Fight!

Go down! I'll stop the round!

Fight!

For god's sake, fight!

(BELL)

Yeeaghhh!

So, what was that
supposed to achieve?

You say I never take
an interest in you.

And I know how you like fighters.

You're pathetic.
What do you want?

Not two cavemen brawling over me
as though I was some sort of trophy!

I had no idea
that was going to happen.

Can I have a word, please?

Is that why you didn't fight back?

Inspector, I'm a professional.

World champion.

He's a big boy,
but I could have killed him.

I mean it, killed him.

Wasn't entirely unexpected though,
was it?

Him attacking you like that.
Sir!

There's a problem.

You stay here, Mr Malloy.

George, can we come in?
Over here, Tom.

Same again, really.
Death caused by suffocation.

But the cut on the left cheek
would indicate a heavy blow.

So he could have been knocked
unconscious before he was killed.

If he was, a matching blood sample
was found on a cushion
in his living room.

Which would suggest
it happened there.

That would mean the killer having to
carry the body all the way
from the living room to here.

Dead weight.

Literally.

Possible with a fireman's lift.

Hell of a schlep from the house
to the gym.

Frank Bishop is a big fellow.

Who'd be strong enough
to carry the body that far?

Sebastian Farquaharson.

He changed places with Tuohy
for the Sayers-Heenan fight.

And he's gone missing.
Which makes him an obvious choice.

Not the only one.

Teddy Malloy. He wasn't involved
in the fight reconstruction.

An ex-boxer. Fit.

And he found the body.

But would he have raised the alarm?

Double bluff.

And then there's Grace Bishop.

No-one was with her when she
came back to find her husband.

She and Malloy might have done it
between them.

I've been told I can't touch
anything in my own living room.

Not until Forensics
have finished in there.

More mess. I know it makes me sound
cold, but I'm not one for tears.
I'm not the emotional type.

Oh? I remember you
being very emotional.

Hit him. Right uppercut, left hook.

Keep him safe, Teddy. Keep him safe!

That was different.

I remember something else too.

I worry about you too.

I miss you when you're gone.

Husband. More privacy in here.

You were talking to Teddy Malloy.

Was I?
Mm.

You and Teddy Malloy,
you love one another.

And Teddy Malloy is a real father
figure to John Kinsella.

My husband didn't know
what love meant.

All he was interested in
was owning people.

Is that why you met up
with Giles Braithwaite?

John wanted Teddy to manage him.

And he wanted to know
if there was any way
out of his contract with Frank.

And now that is no longer a problem.

Come on, I'll take you home.

Has Kinsella got two women
on the go at the same time?

Camilla Farquaharson?

Yes. Is he the father of her child?

We need to talk
to Sebastian Farquaharson.

I wonder if Iris Holman
knows where he is.

Tom.

Gerald.
Just taking Millie home.

She's in a bit of a state.
Understandable really,
given what happened.

It can't help,
her husband going missing.

Quite.
Do you need us for anything?

No, not at the moment.
I'll get her back, then.

Oh, Gerald. There is something.

My wife is convinced that Iris
Holman was in love with Braithwaite.

She's bang on the money but
that was never going to happen.

We can all sympathise
with Braithwaite on that one.

Why did he never get married?
Why would he do a thing like that?

Giles Braithwaite was a homosexual.

Why should I know where
Sebastian Farquaharson is?

He is a man I try very hard
to have nothing to do with.

Oh? You were talking to him
yesterday at Morchard Manor.

That was work. Unavoidable.

How professional that is of you,
Miss Holman.

Your boss was murdered
a couple of days ago.

And here you are, trying to carry on
the business as normal.

I do hope Mr Braithwaite appreciated
how loyal and hardworking you are.

I like to think he saw me
as more than that.

Some kind of fondness
between the two of you?

You make it sound as though
we had feelings for one another.

I think you imagined that
to be the case.

Must have been very hard on you,
Miss Holman, when you found out
he was homosexual.

No, he isn't!

He wasn't.
Yes, he was.

It wasn't him.

It was Sebastian.

The whole thing was disgusting.

Tell me more.

How did you find out?

I'd left a folder in the office.

I went back after work
to collect it.

How long did it continue
between them?

Continue? They were not a couple!

Once I had caught them,
it never happened again.

You made very sure of that,
didn't you?

Kept a very close eye
on Mr Braithwaite.

That was for his own good.

He wasn't like that.

He wasn't.

Camilla!

Open the door!
(BANGING)

I promise, I only want to talk.

Camilla!
(BANGING)

Police, please.

Mr Farquaharson,
why did you go missing?

I didn't go missing.
I just wasn't in Midsomer Morchard.
Is that a crime now?

No, it's not. But murder is.

And we're very anxious to know
where you were when it happened.

Not again. I've told you all I can
about Giles Braithwaite.

I'm not talking about Braithwaite.
I'm talking about Frank Bishop.

Bishop? He's been murdered?

Oh, you didn't know?
How could I?

I'd gone missing.

And why was that?

I wanted to get away from this
inbred little scandal-hole where
everyone knows everyone else.

Or think they do.
I've had enough of it.

There's a surprise.

I thought you wanted more.

Or have you given up trying to get
your hands on your father's estate?

Couldn't care less.

None of that matters any more.

Not since Giles was...

murdered.

Mr Farquaharson,

Sebastian.

Has...all this...to do with
your sexual orientation?

Iris Holman, she...

Bitch!

I paid her to keep quiet and she
still can't keep her mouth shut.

It was only a fling.

At least, that's what I thought.

I had no intention
of coming back here.

Then why did you?

I had to see Camilla.

Say sorry to her.

It's not much.

But it's the least she deserves.

And Iris Holman,

you said that you were paying her
to keep quiet.

Blackmail? Did he actually
use that word?

Yes.

He said that he gave you money
in return for your silence
about his homosexuality.

Not quite the same, is it?

Blackmail is when someone demands
payment for NOT revealing
information.

But that is what you are doing!

No. He begged me not to tell anyone
about his sordid little secret.

I didn't want his money.

But I did want to see him squirm
for what he tried to do
to Mr Braithwaite.

All right. You may or may not be a
blackmailer in the eyes of the law.

But you and I both know that
that is exactly what you are.

Can I give you a bit of advice?

There have been two murders
in Midsomer Morchard.

And if you are trying
to blackmail anyone else...

..you are playing
a very dangerous game.

That woman is in such denial
about him.

Why did you let her go?
I hope she'll drop her guard.

Remember Frank Bishop saying
she was present at every meeting
he had with Braithwaite?

Yeah. And she had access to
the details of all his clients.

I think she knows why Bishop
and Braithwaite were killed.

So if she's not the murderer,
she knows who is.

I believe that Iris Holman is a
very nervous lady right about now.

Chief Inspector Barnaby, please.

Iris Holman.

Hello, Chief Inspector.

My flat's been broken into.

No, I am not staying here.

Meet me at the statue of Tom Sayers.

There's something
I want to show you.

(DOOR)

Hello?

Hello!

She should be here by now.

Her apartment?

Yeah.

(KNOCKING)

I think you should apply more force.

I'm knocking as hard as I can, sir.

Kick the door down.

Oh.

Cause of death, suffocation.

Same as Bishop and Braithwaite?
Yes.

But she wasn't knocked unconscious
beforehand.

No need. She's not as strong
as them. Wouldn't have put up
as much of a fight.

Or maybe our killer was someone
who would never hit a lady.

Joyce.
Mm?

I am not a man to have his head
easily turned, am I?

It took me long enough
to catch your eye.

No, it didn't. Just nervous
about getting it right with you.

I was reasonably circumspect.

No, seriously.

Do you think I am open to flattery?

Show me a man who isn't.

I'm not talking about
man-woman stuff.

It's when that sort of thing...
clouds your professional judgement.

John, what are you talking about?

There is one person in this
investigation I have consistently
overlooked as a suspect.

Wilfully overlooked.

Gerald.
Tom!

Come on in.
Thank you.

Oh... She's just staying here.

For the moment. Till... You know.

Sebastian. She doesn't want
to be on her own.

It's about Sebastian
we came to see you.

We're happy to release him.
But he's asking for you
to stand surety for his bail.

Can you do that?
Of course, yes.

Yes, any amount.
So he's off the hook, then?

No, not entirely.

But he was under lock and key
when Iris Holman was killed.

Awful business, awful.

Especially when you consider
that we might have prevented it.

How's that?

She phoned us
just before she was killed.

Said she had something important
to show us.

What was it?
She didn't say.

If we'd gone straight to her flat,
we might just have saved her.

But she was insistent that we meet
her at the statue of Tom Sayers.

Why would she do that?

(TAPS)

Oh, hello, Chief Inspector.

I'm afraid Gerry isn't here.

Are you expecting him back soon?

Not till late. I do get nervous
on my own in a house this size.

Yes, I bet you do.

Still, must be very comforting
to have a father-in-law like that
to turn to.

Oh, it is.
And you do turn to him, don't you?

Every time you feel vulnerable.

Not every time.

No. Then there's the way
he's prepared to support your child
when it's born.

He is an exceptionally decent man.

That's exactly what I thought.

But that was before I realised...

the child is his.

Millie!

Millie!

In here, Gerald!

Hello?

Tom! What are you doing here?

Where's Camilla?

Camilla is talking
to Detective Sergeant Jones.

What about?

I didn't get a chance
to take a proper look at these

when I was last in this room.

You scarcely had time.
It was only a quick drink.

In fact, as I recall,
you didn't have a drink.

And yet you were so insistent,
weren't you, on pouring me one.

And you placed the glass...

just there.

That was how you first made me aware
that one of these was missing.

And that, Gerald,
that's a double bluff.

What's this about?

Braithwaite and Bishop
were both knocked unconscious.

Either by a heavy object

or by a heavy punch.

Aided by something very like
a knuckleduster.

Would take a stronger and younger
man than me to do that,
if that's what you're implying.

What, an old Oxford boxing blue
like you?

And the last thing to go
on any boxer is his punch.

You told me that.

I say a lot of things. I'm often
not as knowledgeable as I sound.

Oh, but you are, aren't you,
when it comes to the delights
of the sporting arena?

The thrilling surge of adrenaline
when you back your own hunch
against all the odds

and it comes home a winner.

Graphically put.

One could almost believe
you were a gambling man yourself.

Not I, Gerald. Not I.

But you, you're completely hooked,
aren't you?

'I had made a substantial bet
elsewhere', you said on the night
of the title fight of John Kinsella.

And you had, Gerald, you had.

A very substantial bet.

But Frank Bishop had agreed
to loan you your stake money.

With this house as collateral.

Only trouble is,

you backed the wrong man.

So when the fight was over,

this house, your estate, everything,

belonged to Frank Bishop.

Now how could you possibly know
a thing like that?

Because it's all written down.

Legally binding.

And witnessed by Iris Holman
and Giles Braithwaite.

That document you've got there
in your hand.

That's what you were so anxious
to find

when you searched through
Iris Holman's flat and
Giles Braithwaite's office.

What you've got there, that's a copy.

We have the original.

Tom Barnaby,

I do believe you've set me up.

Can I see Millie
before you slap on the cuffs?

Bishop and I struck a wager,
fair and square.

Except that it wasn't fair. Had it
been, I would have honoured it.

But it was your choice to bet against
John Kinsella.
What's unfair about that?

The fact that Bishop advised me
to do just that.

Kinsella's late nights and
womanising have caught up with him.

He's got no chance
of winning this fight.

But he's red-hot favourite.

Which is why I've placed
a considerable amount of money
on his opponent.

Not in my name obviously.
I'm telling you this
in the strictest confidence.

You're a gambling man.
I thought you might like a taster.
Not that there's much of a gamble.

Bishop was very keen
to loan me the stake money.

A big win would have gone a long
way to easing my financial worries.

Caused by gambling
in the first place.

Quite.

As soon as Kinsella came off
his stool in the opening round,
I could see the shape he was in.

I knew that I'd been conned.

There's no coming back from that!
Dead to the world.

Ladies and gentlemen...

So you went to Braithwaite
in the hope that because Bishop
had lied to you,

this would somehow nullify the legal
document giving your estate to him?

Bishop's coming here
straight from the airport.

All I can suggest
is that you turn up and...

..appeal to his better nature.

He was on the take from Bishop.

I knew I had to get hold of that
document before Bishop got back.

And because Braithwaite
was batting on Bishop's side,

you had no option but to kill him.

Oh, that wasn't the plan.

But I was up against time.

I implored Bishop to delay
any announcement of the estate
now being his.

He agreed. But only till after
the Sayers-Heenan fight.

As soon as it was over,
he intended to pronounce himself
lord of the manor.

His phrase.
And you couldn't have that.

I took Bishop to be a sporting man,
but I was wrong.

I couldn't have someone who would
behave in such a fashion
inheriting the Farquaharson estate!

Noblesse oblige.
Absolutely.

Couldn't have the people
of Midsomer Morchard

left in the hands of a man who was
little more than an asset-stripper.

Not to mention protecting the family
inheritance. Especially now.

When you're expecting a child
who actually is your bloodline.

Sebastian is my son.
And always will be.

I had no idea he was gay
until Millie came to me for help.

She was so in need of looking after.

Bad form, the father-in-law
and all that.

But I don't regret it.

And I don't think Millie does
either.

Iris Holman was blackmailing you,
wasn't she?

Oh, yes. She held the document
that legalised the wager.

She was asking for money. But what
she really wanted was revenge.

On Sebastian?
On the world.

You know it doesn't matter
that Frank Bishop is dead.

The manor still goes into his estate.

That is...

(LAUGHS)

That is the irony of it.

You see, Frank Bishop was so
determined that his man would win

that he did a bit of
pre-fight tampering.

Kinsella didn't know.
But he was told this morning
he had failed a drugs test.

He'll be stripped of the title.

And the wager is void
and the estate is still mine.

So no need for all those murders.

None at all, Sergeant.

What a waste.

What a pitiful waste.

Although, when you think of it,

Braithwaite, a two-timing lawyer,

Frank Bishop,
a ruthless main chancer,

Iris Holman,
an embittered blackmailer.

And what am I?

Other than a gentrified waster?

None of us will be much of a loss
to society.

He got his son's wife pregnant,

he gambled away his family fortune,

and people like him.

I certainly did.

Yeah. He stitched you up,
didn't he, sir?

Yes. Killed three people.

Carried out those murders
meticulously, clinically.

Right under my nose.

What kind of a man does that?

A JP!

A pillar of the community.

And certainly not one of us at all.

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