Original subtitles

There's absolutely no doubt at all.

Perfectly in order to--

this one, too.

Fund it through a second bank.

Thank you.

Don't we have to be nearby?

Just leave that to me.

Also, how do you feel about these two?

What do you think about that?

Charles King.

It's Hilary.

Oh, Hilary, my dear.

How are you?

Fine.

Alan, it's Hilary.

Thank you.

Darling, you have news?

Yes.

The Arts Council grant's been approved.

The theater can reopen.

Brilliant.

Yes, wonderful.

Ian's down from Cambridge.

Well done, Dad.

I'll pick you up at Heathrow tomorrow.

I can't wait to see you.

How's it been out there?

Charles and Peter Baxter have done all the business.

I've just been an idle tourist.

Anyway, I'm leaving them to get on with it,

and I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Safe journey.

Bye.

Well, we've saved the theater.

Good.

Let's hope we've saved the business as well.

Look at this, then.

What?

What's that?

I don't believe it.

Oh, come on.

Jack, take a look at this.

Come here!

What?

Oi, boys, come and have a look at this!

Typical, that.

What in the hell's that?

Wouldn't you just know it?

What's the meaning of this, eh?

What's all this, then Mr. King?

I don't like your tone, Tewson.

No more than I like yours, Baxter.

We're trying to raise capital to save your jobs.

Alan King would never have done this,

and he's not even in his grave yet.

I think I know what my brother's wishes were, Jack.

I'll see you at the funeral, I hope.

Oh, you will.

Go on, get lost!

That's it, is it?

Go on, eh?

Are you family?

Friend of Ian's, Alan King's son.

Come on.

Let's see those pearlies.

I can't believe that.

Good, good.

Lovely.

Where's Ian?

I don't know.

Now bride and groom, best man.

Peter on my right.

Have you seen Ian?

I think he's 'round the back, mooning about with

that nancy boyfriend of his.

Dad.

What?

Ignore him, Hilary.

Oh.

Now everyone this way.

Say one, two, three.

Cheese!

Congratulations!

You're wanted.

Sorry.

I'm not grinning in some cheesy photograph.

Give it a rest, Ian.

Dead

Just six months, and she's coupling up with his brother.

It's disgusting.

That is so unfair.

Is this fair to my father?

Does she care?

Hilary was devastated when your father died.

If you stayed around, you would have known.

She wanted me out of the way, back at university.

Charles supported her through it all, Ian.

He was here for her.

He loves her.

That's fine, then.

Let's all move on.

Here's to the happy couple.

She's entitled to her happiness.

She needs you.

Please don't push her away.

You're pushing everyone away, Ian.

People are leaving.

Ian, is this what your dad would really want?

No, my father, he'd most likely say, "Good luck, Hills.

Go for it.

Make your fun happen."

So how can we put a smile on your face?

By not going to this bloody reception.

OK, so we give it a miss.

Come on.

Let's get hammered, get down a club.

This is Midsomer.

There's only Causton.

Only?

Nowhere better.

Every hour is happy hour in Causton.

Beautiful dress, Soph.

Thanks.

You haven't forgotten Tuesday?

Oh, I can't make it.

I'm sorry.

We'll do it another time, James, OK?

Sorry.

Pardon me.

Sorry.

Oh, everybody ready?

I've got to say, she's very fit.

And she knows it.

How embarrassing.

Don't tell me you fancy her.

Wrong gender, love.

But she definitely fancies you.

This I do not believe.

Oi, there they are.

How dare you come here.

We're just making a point.

Today of all days.

We're not going anywhere, Baxter.

We're not going to sit in our homes like dumbbells.

Go on, clear off, all of you.

Go on, clear off!

Not until you see us right!

Yeah, yeah.

Boo.

Hey. - Off!

You clear off!

You clear off!

You clear off!

See us right! You clear off!

See us right!

You owe us.

Yeah!

Leave it.

Oh, let go!

Just go.

You will pay for this.

This ain't going to end here.

Stupid toff.

What's all this about the pensions money?

Vanished, like snow off a roof,

slipped quietly into your family's pockets.

I promise you, I know nothing about this.

Oh, you're going to hear about it, loud and long.

In the meantime, go and swill your champagne.

And remember, we bought it for you.

Exactly.

Ian, come on.

Yeah, where's our money?

Where's our money, lad?

Where's our money?

Where's our money?

All three Gifford brothers stood in the dock smirking.

And?

Judge Lloyd starts.

10 years, 12 years, 10.

It's a great result.

Yes, yes.

Ow!

You all right, sir?

Paper cut.

Oh, dear.

Oh, it's from Cully.

She's playing at the old open-air theater, you know.

They just reopened it.

And this is their first production, hm.

Would you stick that up on the noticeboard?

I find Shakespeare a bit hard going, to be honest with you,

sir, bit of a snore.

Yeah, well, four hours on a stone seat in the open air.

That'll be hard going, all right.

Four hours?

Yes, well, unfortunately, Jones, brevity was never

the soul of Shakespeare's wit.

Yeah.

Sentences longer than Judge Lloyd's.

Oh, perfect.

Just the right shade. How much do I owe you?

Don't be silly.

Hi, Soph.

Would you like to join us for lunch?

Ian's working down in the water meadows.

No thanks.

Give him my love.

I will.

And his to you, I'm sure.

Ciao.

Did you see Ian while I was away?

No.

He's not returning my calls.

It's like there was never anything between us.

No, I can't reach him either.

I think it may be--

he's still grieving for his father's death.

And my marriage.

He's so angry with me, Sophie.

So angry.

Here in the worshipful lodge of the vale of Midsomer, I--

I hereby do most solemnly promise

and swear that I will always hail.

The secrets arts' heart points of the master mason's degree.

The worshipful master's rehearsing the third degree

and cannot be interrupted.

Don't be ridiculous.

You cannot enter the temple in a state of undress.

Get out of my way.

Murder and treason excepted.

Wait!

Sorry, worshipful master.

Charles, we need to speak.

Could you wait without, please, James?

Tewson has been pouring poison into the receiver's ears.

They're querying the accounts.

It's a receivers job.

Routine, Peter.

That's all.

Charlie, if those figures come unwrapped, we are liable.

You're the accountant.

Look, if this is you wriggling, forget it.

You signed the accounts.

They're asking some very, very difficult questions.

I'm sure we'll find the answers, as long

as you don't panic.

I'll sort out Tewson.

Now go home and get a grip.

Come here, love.

Give me that

Thanks.

What have you got in here?

Costumes for the play.

Well, haven't you got somebody to do that for you,

like wardrobe people?

It's not a West End job, Dad.

It's 200 quid a week and wash your own frocks.

How much?

We're actors.

We do it for love.

Certainly not for the money.

For sale?

He wasn't bluffing, then.

Doesn't look like it.

You can't do this, Dad.

I go away for a couple of--

It's my house.

I sell it when I see fit.

I'm not moving.

What happened?

Who did this?

Who do you think did it?

Mob from the factory, I expect.

And I'm not staying here to get any more windows smashed.

I've had enough.

And what about me?

What am I supposed to do?

Just grow up and look after yourself for a change.

Hey, Soph, you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine, James.

Thanks for the lift.

OK.

You are not welcome here either.

What are you doing here?

Idiot.

About five minutes ago.

Lying in the stream.

Yes, I do.

His name is Baxter, Peter Baxter.

Down there.

See anything?

Tom.

The lungs are full of water, but it's

not a straightforward drowning.

Was he held under?

There's a stab wound.

Entry between the sixth and seventh rib.

It's collapsed the lung and left a sucking

wound that's drawn in water.

Weapon?

Nothing so far.

Time of death?

Sometime last night.

I'll know better later, hopefully.

Thank you.

The victim's name is Peter Baxter.

That's his car.

So he came down here to meet someone?

Yeah, or brought someone down here, maybe.

He lives nearby, according to Mrs. King.

She found him.

I see.

You carry here.

Sir.

Mrs. King?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.

I've given my statement to this young woman.

I'd like to go home now. - Yes.

Yes, of course.

I was just wondering, how well did you know Mr. Baxter?

Peter was chief accountant at my husband's

firm, King's Crystal.

Look.

I was collecting flowers this morning,

and there he was in the stream.

He's got a daughter, Sophie.

I'd like to be the one to tell her what's happened, if--

No, that's all right, Mrs. King.

We'll handle that.

Right. OK, thank you.

That's it.

You can go now.

But would you mind leaving that knife with me, please?

As long as I get it back.

Thinking of buying, sir?

Not without robbing a bank.

Can I help you?

Miss Baxter?

Miss Sophie Baxter?

Yes.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

This is Detective Sergeant Jones from Causton CID.

May we come in?

Sorry about the mess.

Miss Baxter.

I'm very sorry to have to tell you

that Mr. Baxter, your father, was found dead this morning.

We're also treating it as a murder.

Miss Baxter, when did you last see your father?

Um, yesterday.

Here.

We had an awful row.

It was about the house.

About selling the house?

Yes.

I suppose he's just pushed someone too far.

Any idea who?

No.

I know there's been business worries.

What, to do with King's Crystal?

I remember there was a lot of bad press about its closure.

When I tried to talk to him, he--

he just said I was spoiling his drink.

So he'd made enemies?

My father didn't know how to be friends.

Sorry, Soph.

Oh, James.

These are the police.

Oh.

I just heard.

Oh, come here.

Well, we'll leave you to talk, Mr.?

Taylor, James Taylor.

I'm not sorry he's dead.

Don't say such things, Ian.

Why are you being so hateful to everyone?

What, am I?

It's about me and Charles, isn't it?

I know it's difficult. But can't you just respect--

Respect?

I loved your father as much as you did, Ian.

Alan was--

Mother, you hardly had time to change the sheets before you

were screwing his brother.

Ian!

Keep a civil tongue in your head.

Since when do you give me orders?

Oh, stop it, Ian. Don't.

Don't what?

You married him.

I didn't.

Ian!

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Charles King. How do you do?

Detective Sergeant Jones.

How do you do?

Dreadful news about Peter.

Shall we go inside?

Was he in any way responsible for the company's bankruptcy?

The firm was past its sell-by date.

We're trying to start afresh in Shanghai.

You mean King's Crystal is going to be made in China?

In 20 years' time, everything will be made in China.

One has to move with the times.

Can I get you a drink? - No.

No, thank you.

Mr. King, we suspect that Mr. Baxter was murdered.

Murdered?

By whom?

Well, I understand that he made enemies when

Kings Crystal was closed down.

We did receive threats, yes.

Were they verbal, letters?

What were they?

They were demonstrations.

When you say demonstrations, you

mean workers at the factory?

Yes.

Chap called Tewson was the ringleader, Jack Tewson.

Peter wouldn't go out of his way to be popular,

but he was fair and on the square with everybody.

I lost a friend and a brilliant accountant.

Alan King.

That'd be Charles King's elder brother?

He owned half of King's Crystal with Charles.

But Alan was always a sleeping partner.

Teacher of drama.

Would that be at Causton Comprehensive?

I believe so.

Yes, I remember him.

He was a lovely man.

It was he who first introduced Cully to the stage.

Well, this stone's going to be laid at the theater.

He raised most of the money to reopen it.

Charles King and Peter Baxter were in some money trouble

over King's Crystal, that right?

There's been talk, yes.

Mr. Taylor, were you there when

the big row erupted between Sophie and her father

yesterday?

Yes, I drove her home.

She got upset about him selling the house.

Are you and Sophie close?

Used to be, yes.

Baxter put the blocks on it.

He wanted to match her with Ian King, her class of person.

He thought I was chasing a meal ticket.

Accountants.

Money is all they see in everything.

They're saying round the village he drowned.

That right?

No, he was stabbed.

Stabbed?

Oh, now I get it.

Well, you're wasting your time looking at me.

Right, George.

Yeah.

That's good.

Are they still searching?

Right, thank you.

That's Bullard.

The murder weapon was a sharp implement eight inches long,

and still no sign of it.

Charles King, sir.

He's Mr. Clean.

Not even a speeding ticket.

Director of several companies.

Spotless credit check.

He's divorced and recently remarried.

And he's a Mason.

Ah, you spotted the handshake?

Yes, I did.

I think I should tell you I was

once a member of the Masons.

Were you?

Yes, sir, Causton Lodge.

Thought it might help with my promotion.

You never know.

Policeman, Masons.

There's always the perception of divided loyalty, isn't there?

But your Masonic membership may come in useful on this one.

If it takes us there, fine by me.

I've invited Sophie for dinner.

She shouldn't be on her own after what's happened.

That'll be nice.

Maybe you'd like to join us?

No, thanks.

Dave and I are busy.

Ian, please.

I can't take much more of you being like this.

How'd you like me to be?

I'd like my son back.

That's what I want.

Do you hate me so much?

Don't take it to heart, Hilary.

Will you be staying much longer?

For as long as Ian wants me to, if that's all right.

This is 2,000 pounds.

We can do something simple for 500.

Only goes up in flames, anyway.

Whatever.

You take care of it.

And what about you, Soph?

Will you let me take care of you?

Oh, James.

Now he's gone.

There's nothing standing between us.

I love you.

You know that.

James, please don't.

Not here.

Not now.

Please don't.

It's Ian, isn't it?

You're still burning a candle for him.

Is Ian stood on your doorstep asking you what you need?

Is he the one taking care of you?

No, I am.

James, I appreciate everything you've done for me.

It's just-- I'm sorry.

It's amazing, that.

I bought my gran a piece of King's

Crystal for her ruby wedding.

She's still got it.

I thought this place had been down.

It has.

We just completed an order for the receivers.

Listen to that.

Dead silence.

Full of machines once, making stained glass, art glass.

Blowing shops all along the back.

Near to 100 worked here, craftsmen and women.

All gone now.

Still, I suppose you're here about Baxter.

I'd like you to come with me.

There's something I think you ought to see.

You know, I can't pretend I was too sorry to hear about Baxter.

Did you threaten him, Mr. Tewson?

Uh, we had words from time to time.

This is Baxter's office.

This is normally kept closed and locked.

But we were broken into last night,

and it looks like they were looking for something.

Looking for something?

Looking for what, Mr. Tewson?

I don't know.

Evidence, perhaps.

Money's disappeared.

Our redundancy pay.

Our pensions.

Where were you last night?

I was at home alone, drinking.

I've been doing a lot of that these days.

Got any ideas, then, who might have done this?

I don't know.

It could be Alan King's son, Ian.

He inherited part of the company.

But Baxter and his uncle are keeping him

in the dark about it.

Perhaps he came to look.

And you know Ian well enough to think

he might do such a thing?

I know he's not a happy boy.

Go on, Mr. Tewson.

His mother, the merry widow, married his uncle Charles.

And I know he's very upset about that.

OK.

Thank you, Mr. Tewson.

Thank you.

Uh-huh.

I'm doing a PhD in biology, the insect life

of Midsomer's water meadows.

We are investigating the death of Peter Baxter.

I've not seen him for days.

I saw Mr. Baxter last night.

I was out posting a letter.

He nearly wiped me up with his car.

And what time was this, Mr.?

Monroe, David Monroe.

Must have been about 11-ish.

Where were you at that time?

I'd gone for a walk.

You didn't go to the King's Crystal factory?

No.

I've not been there since Dad died.

Ah, yes.

Your dad left you part of the family business, I understand.

He left me shares, yes.

Were you involved with Mr. Baxter and your uncle

in the closure of that factory?

- No. - Oh.

And if my father had been alive,

he'd never have allowed it to happen.

The rot set in after he died.

What do you mean, the rot?

Do you mean corrupt practice on the part of Charles

King and Peter Baxter?

Those two are as close as the fingers on your hand.

Not a scrap of conscience between them.

What about your mother, Hilary?

What was her involvement with the company?

Who knows.

All my life, I thought I knew my mother.

Whoever she is, she hides it well.

Hides what?

I thought she loved my father.

And then she goes and.

Ian.

So you'd met Mr. Baxter before, had you?

Since you recognized him last night.

Yes, a few times.

Nasty puffball of a man.

Used to call me the nancy boy.

Ah.

I'm sorry he died how he did.

But, well, maybe the gods are happy.

Yeah?

Ah, good.

Yeah, within a couple of minutes.

They found the murder weapon.

Sir!

Tom.

That's an ornamental dagger of some sort.

It's a Masonic ceremonial dagger.

Is it?

Yeah.

See the symbol there? Set square and compass.

What's these letters?

J-O-B. 161202.

J-O-B.

Someone's initials and a date?

Possibly.

Just how many of your father's books

do you really want to keep?

"Secrets of Ancient China?"

Oxfam.

My father's Masonic regalia.

Ah.

One of the secret squirrels, was he?

It fits the entry wound, and there's a DNA match to Baxter.

There's a piece missing from the tip of the blade.

Fresh break.

The knife might have hit a rib, but the fragment's

not turned up yet.

Anything else?

And Hilary King's pruning knife.

Clean.

No connection.

So that's it for me.

Well, thank you, George.

Thank you.

Fraud Squad says King's Crystal looks a bit iffy.

Several paper companies shuffling money about.

Is there any sign of Baxter's cap yet?

No, sir. We're still looking.

Oh.

J-O-B. Peter Baxter was an accountant, wasn't he?

He could have been a Mason.

But these are not his initials.

So maybe he was stabbed by another member

of the brotherhood.

I've got it!

Sorry, sir.

J-O-B. It stands for Jahweh, Osiris, Baal.

There's the ineffable trinity of Masonic gods.

Are they?

Yes.

So these are not the initials of a particular member?

No.

But Charles King is certainly one of the cloth, isn't he?

Maybe he found out Baxter had his fingers in the till.

Could very well be.

Want me to do some digging, sir?

Yes, I do.

The Masons may not be a secret society.

But they are certainly a society with secrets.

There's a Sergeant Jones to see you.

Show him in.

Good afternoon.

Sorry to disturb you, Mr. King.

But I think you might be able to help me

if we can speak on the square.

Can I show you this?

We believe it was used to kill Mr. Baxter.

Ever seen it before?

I've seen many like it.

It's a poniard, a replica of our ceremonial dagger.

Every apprentice in the Midsomer Lodges

receives one on being entered, as you'll be aware.

Yes, but I've never seen one with a date

stamped on it before.

Here, the 16th, the 12th, '02.

No, no.

Our lodge uses a simple code.

The numbers are letters of the alphabet.

16 is P. 12 is L. Two is B.

P-L-B.

Peter Leonard Baxter.

This was Peter's.

So where would he have kept this?

At home?

He was a little cavalier about matters Masonic.

Often it would be in his briefcase.

He used it sometimes in his office as a paper knife.

Thank you.

It's been very helpful.

And you're a little rusty about matters Masonic.

Our regular lodge meeting's the second Thursday of every month.

Visitors always welcome.

Thanks.

Better get my apron ironed.

Hello, Ian!

- Looking for me? - No, no.

Just out for a, you know, for a walk.

Is Cully Barnaby your daughter?

The actress playing Ophelia?

Yes, she is.

Of course, it was your father who raised the money to reopen

the theater, wasn't it?

It was one of my dad's dreams.

After he died, I wanted to see the project through.

I thought you were a biologist.

I am.

But since I found myself standing in for my father,

I took advantage of the situation

and chose "Hamlet" as the first production, for my mother.

Her favorite?

No.

Just thought it would do her good to see it.

Must go.

Got some business to do.

Bye.

There's rue for you.

And here's some for me.

Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.

There's a daisy.

I would give you some violets, but they withered

all when my father died.

They say he made a good end.

OK.

Thank you, Cully, love.

Hold it there.

Take a break, everybody.

Next call, Hamlet.

Can you bring it back to wardrobe, please?

Cully. Yes.

Yes, delicious.

Very nice.

But um, a bit too winsome, perhaps.

Forget the acting.

Just a bit more unstable, mm?

OK.

Right, Hamlet.

We'll have another go at "To be or not to be."

And listen, the man is 28 years old, not 16.

So less hormonal and much more metaphysical.

All right.

He's a hard man to please.

Tell me about it.

The man couldn't direct traffic.

Somebody keeps moving it off the props table.

The wound shows an angle of entry something like that.

So Baxter could have killed himself.

And then dropped it in the stream?

It's possible.

Well, what about the missing fragment

from the tip of the blade?

It's definitely not in the body.

This is not adding up, is it?

Baxter left no note.

He was selling his house.

He was moving on, not killing himself.

And there are no prints on that dagger.

He was wearing driving gloves.

Yes, but he regularly used it as a paper knife.

So the handle was obviously wiped clean.

Of course.

No, Baxter was murdered.

Jones, I want you to take up Charles King's

invitation to visit his lodge.

Sir.

Keep an eye on him and see who else has taken

vows at the Vale of Midsomer Chapter.

It's a hanging offense to betray the Brothers' secrets,

sir.

You got a problem with that?

No, no.

I'll survive, I hope.

Come on, lift it.

It's a batch of 15.

Keep a look out.

Ha, ha.

I need two more.

CHARLES KING; What's this about?

I was just remembering how it was when I was a kid.

It's gone, Ian.

We can't change yesterday.

No.

I wanted to say to you, Charles, I

know I've been a top-class pain the past few months.

You certainly have.

I wanted to apologize.

I was very close to my father.

I loved him too, Ian.

I felt angry.

All this has come to nothing.

No, it hasn't.

We're finished here, but we'll be expanding abroad.

I can show you the plans.

I'm not a businessman.

Nor was Alan.

But when we were in China together,

he could see for himself.

He could understand why we had to make the change.

And I'm sure his best wish would be

that you could be as passionate about the future as he was.

Maybe we should talk about it.

I prefer that to the verbal battering I've been getting.

Sorry.

I have to say, I've been worried about you.

My head's been in a bell for God knows how long.

This is all very sudden.

What's happened?

I don't know.

I woke up this morning and something had lifted.

I felt released.

Ian, I have no heir, no son.

I'd like nothing better than that you

and I should be family.

I'd like that, too.

I think it's what Dad would have wanted.

Oh, hello.

What have we here?

Off to stick up some playbills.

Are you?

Now Joyce, you do know that, strictly speaking,

fly-posting is illegal.

Ah, have a day off, Dad.

We've got to publicize the show.

Did you stick up the one I sent to the station?

Well, yes, I did.

But that was inside, in the police canteen.

Good. Well, here.

Take a few more.

See if they'll put them up in some

of your regular watering holes.

Cully, Joyce, I really do think--

Tom, it's hardly the crime of the century.

Well, on your own heads be it.

Oh, scary.

David.

Where's lunch?

Yeah, bye.

Hey!

What the hell are you doing?

Let go.

Let go.

What's happening?

He was aiming at you.

Don't talk rot.

I was after rabbits.

That's not what it looked like to me.

Give him his gun, David.

Give me the gun.

It's Jack, isn't it?

Jack Tewson.

That's right.

We met outside the church at the wedding.

I remember seeing you blowing glass as a kid when my father

brought me around the factory.

Fantastic.

Yeah?

I worked for 30 years for your family,

a lifetime's apprenticeship.

And then they just walked off and left me potless.

Believe me, fantastic is not the word.

The company's gone bust, friend.

It happens.

So does fraud, embezzlement, thieving.

Not my father.

We all thought that.

But I bet he's left you your share, hasn't he?

He might've been hunting rabbits,

but I swear he had you in his sights.

He had been drinking.

Maybe he was tempted.

And maybe he's got reason if the company has ripped him off.

Whatever.

You're not responsible.

Neither was my father.

Craftsmen like Tewson were his people.

He admired them, felt responsible for them.

And so do I.

Our Masonic temple is fashioned of living souls.

And each entered apprentice shall where this apron.

This is his body of mortality, his veil of flesh and blood,

clothing his inner soul, his badge of innocence and purity

given to all by the great architect of the universe.

This apron shall he wear as we wear

these, our gloves of white.

For we have each washed our hands in innocence.

Who seeks entrance?

A poor candidate in a state of darkness,

hoodwinked and slipshod, seeks entrance.

Let him be entered.

I receive you at point of knife pressed to your naked breast

to teach you, as this is a torture to your flesh,

so would it be to your conscience

if you ever fail to keep a brother

Mason secrets inviolable.

You will pledge ever to conceal, never to reveal,

all secrets, murder and treason excepted.

I knew them when they were lads.

Worked for me here in their school holidays.

Chalk and cheese.

How's that?

Charles had a business head on him even then.

Practical.

Alan was on another planet.

Whoa, look who's here.

It's you, is it, eh?

You finally found your way down here.

Mr. Tewson, please.

That Baxter was a thief.

I mean, if you shook hands with him,

you had to count your fingers.

I wasn't upset when I had what had happened to him.

Can we change the record, Tewson?

And that mate of yours, Ian, he's

probably had his cut already.

Eh, they're all the same, that lot.

They all piss in the same pot.

Good evening, Mr. Tewson.

Oh, it's God's detective.

Who killed Baxter?

Have you solved that yet, Sherlock?

Let's have you, Jack.

Finish up.

I've finished.

I did my last day's work today.

I'm now on the dole, on the old jam roll.

Well, roll yourself home.

Now.

Are you any further on, Mr. Barnaby?

Oh, David these things take a little time, you know.

I take it you've met Mr. Tewson before?

With a rifle, yes.

He was trying to take a pot shot at Ian.

A pot shot?

Where was this?

Above the water meadows.

Ian was working there.

Tewson claimed he was shooting at rabbits.

I'm not so sure.

To complete the business in hand,

to our fellow Mason, newly entered

as apprentice to this lodge, let the blessing of light

be restored.

Congratulations.

Guess who the new initiate was?

Ian King.

Ian King has joined the lodge?

Ian King?

And he seemed very keen to ingratiate

himself with his stepfather.

I think he's got ambitions.

Maybe Baxter got in his way.

Hey.

Update from the Fraud Squad.

Apparently, our Mr. Baxter was a very creative accountant.

Look at page three.

Uniform had something on him too, sir.

He reported a brick through his window the day before he died.

My guess is Jack Tewson and Rent-a-Mob from the factory.

Yeah.

Oh, Baxter's solicitor, he told me

he's left a very substantial estate

with sums as yet undisclosed in offshore accounts.

Oh.

James Taylor was there last night too, so he's a member.

Think he could have killed Baxter?

So Sophie could get the money?

Well, it's possible, isn't it?

Maybe he thought if he got rid of Baxter,

they could all live happily ever after.

Hilary?

Hilary?

Ah!

Oh God, Ian.

Oh, you made my heart skip.

Let me listen.

Let me hear it. - Ian, stop it.

Don't be silly.

Silly?

I'm sorry.

Maybe it's midsummer madness.

May I be philosophical with you for a moment?

I've come to the conclusion that life is an effort

that deserves a better cause.

Sorry?

I'm ditching my PhD.

Big left turn. Bye-bye biology.

Why?

What for?

Money.

What everyone wants.

Are you mocking?

No, it's true.

Ask who wants to be a millionaire,

and half the world's phoning up.

You're pissed.

I swear, I'm stone-cold sober.

I remember you, Sophie.

Fresh and bright-eyed.

I remember you too, Ian.

Tell me.

Was it lust at first sight?

I don't suppose you're feeling frisky, are you?

You are mocking me.

See, no sense of humor.

You know, there are reasons why some people are alone.

James was right.

You're a spoiled brat.

Hey!

How dare you make fun of me.

Hey, what's going on?

Get away from me.

I couldn't care if I never see you again.

Ian?

I'm just saving her from myself.

You never can tell with women, can you?

And if you can, you probably shouldn't, right?

What are you playing at?

I've joined the Masons.

Why?

Like father, like son?

I'm getting close to the truth.

About what?

You mean Baxter?

You know who killed Sophie's father?

Yes.

Who?

The less you know about it, the better.

I want us to try to sort out our outstanding difficulties.

So you want to smooth things over, eh?

There were some monies due to your members, Jack.

Peter Baxter did a complete audit shortly before he died.

Sucked some more figures out of his thumb, did he?

I'm prepared to accept there might

be some inequity in the way Peter dealt

with the company's accounts.

Oh, you can say that again.

We might be able to find some funds to compensate you.

Perhaps only a percentage, say 10 pence in the pound.

Don't insult us, Mr. King.

At least have a look at the offer, Jack.

Take it away.

Discuss it.

Before I do, there's something I want you to read.

Where did you get these?

Dropped onto my mat, sent anonymously.

They must've been stolen from the office.

Stolen?

Oh, well, if they're stolen, we'd better call the police,

hadn't we?

Let me go over these.

Then perhaps we can meet again.

I'll meet you in court.

I am trying to sort this mess out, Jack.

So am I.

Ian and I met at university two years ago.

We're good friends.

Just good friends?

I've nothing to hide.

I'd like it to be more than that, but Ian is not inclined.

You told me that you had some information.

I haven't.

But I think Ian has.

He told me he knows who killed Peter Baxter.

Who?

He wouldn't give me a name.

I tried, but he stonewalled.

Ian's head's been in bits ever since his father died.

I'm worried he's in danger.

Could you arrange with him to meet on your own, somewhere

quiet, like here?

That's another thing.

He says he's given all this the elbow.

David, wherever he agrees to me you, let me know.

I'll join you.

Maybe between the two of us, we can persuade him to tell

us exactly what he does know.

It matches exactly the piece that was

missing from the dagger, sir.

Where was it found?

At the King's Crystal office that was ransacked.

Forensics found it jammed in one of the drawer locks.

Charles King told you that Peter

Baxter often used this dagger in his office, didn't he?

Yeah.

So someone gets in and uses it on the drawer.

Sounds about right, but doesn't tell us who.

No.

But it does tell us that whoever ransacked that office was

probably also Baxter's killer.

Sophie!

Sophie!

I don't believe you, Ian.

How can you say such a thing?

Everything all right?

Yes, Charles Just a tiff.

Mother and son thing.

Back in a sec.

I'll give you a hand hanging those up.

I thought things were fine.

He was on great form at the lodge meeting.

What happened?

Ian has told me something awful about Peter Baxter's

death.

He's not here?

No, not yet.

I arranged to pick him up.

He didn't show.

I can't find him anywhere.

I'm worried about Sophie, too.

Sophie Baxter?

Yes.

Are you?

Excuse.

Barnaby.

Oh.

Um, listen.

You stay there, and I'll be with you as soon I can.

Has he shown up?

Yes.

Yes, he has.

Thank God for that.

You'd better come with me.

You first.

That's him.

Over here, sir.

You stay here.

Charles King found him hanging from a beam.

He managed to get him down.

But according to him, Ian was already dead.

Where's Bullard?

On his way.

There's no sign of a struggle.

So my first thoughts are suicide.

Could be.

But David Monroe told me he thought

he was in danger from whoever killed Peter Baxter.

Monroe set up that meeting with you,

maybe to alibi himself for the time of Ian King's death.

What would be his motive?

Unrequited love.

He leans that way, doesn't he?

But why?

Why would David Monroe kill Baxter?

Pass.

The other thing is the rope.

It's a cable term.

It's a what?

It's a cable term.

It's used in Masonic ceremonies to lead in initiates.

David Monroe also told me that Sophie has disappeared.

Can you go around the house and check?

And since Charles King found the body, I'll start with him, OK?

Mr. King?

My wife is in deep shock.

She has taken a sleeping tablet.

I'll speak to her later.

I've told Sergeant Jones everything

I know about what happened.

I feel pretty bloody about this, Barnaby.

Hilary and I had realized that Ian was becoming

more and more unstable.

I'm not a psychiatrist, but I do know Ian was deeply unhappy.

I told you he was in danger.

I warned you.

There's a killer out there.

I warned you.

Police!

Sophie!

He taught me drama in my sixth form.

He should have been a professional director.

We could have done with him on this.

"Get thee to a nunnery" next.

See what shape that's in, shall we?

Cully, how do we get our moody Dane to shape up?

Well, he needs encouragement, Harold,

not just endless put-downs.

I've tried.

It's just not working.

I ask him for existential despair,

and he comes on like a singer in a boy band.

And now, to cap it all, Polonius has got laryngitis.

What?

Can we get a stand-in?

I'm afraid you're looking at him, love.

Oh.

Nothing.

Not a sign.

Left her mobile.

You have one message.

Miss Baxter, Midsomer Dental here.

You missed your appointment yesterday.

Please phone to rebook.

Several missed calls from James Taylor.

You don't think that sack could have

been used to carry her, sir?

Take Higgins with you.

Bring James Taylor in.

Ask him if he'd like to help us with our inquiries.

But don't take no for an answer.

Thank you.

There we go.

Now James, could you tell us, please, about that black sack

you were seen removing from Honey Tree House yesterday?

Sophie asked me to take her father's clothes to the Oxfam.

A witness said it looked heavy.

Yeah, clothes and books.

It was heavy.

Where is it now?

I left it outside the shop in Causton last night.

They'll be there, unless someone stole them.

Did Sophie give you no indication

at all where she'd gone?

She's got a friend up north somewhere, Fiona something.

When it comes to trouble with Ian King,

I'm not the best show for her to cry on.

She knows my feelings.

What feelings, Mr. Taylor?

Jealousy?

Hostility?

She rejected you in favor of him, yes?

You could say that, yeah.

Did you make contact with Ian King after she'd gone?

No.

I thought this was about Sophie.

James, two people have died, and Sophie is missing.

I wouldn't harm Sophie for the world.

Look, I'd admit I loathed Baxter and I despised Ian King.

But you assisted at Ian's initiation, didn't you?

Let him into the temple by the noose,

the kind of noose that hung him.

Neither his blood nor Baxter's is on my conscience.

You may think the craft's just a load of ridiculous rituals,

but to me, it's a state of grace,

built on respect for the living souls of all true brothers.

I think he's telling the truth.

Whether he's guilty or not, he certainly

gave me the evil eye, sir.

Had a proper Mason's warning off him.

Ah, it's Bullard's preliminary report on Ian King.

He'd been heavily sedated--

barbiturates.

So not a suicide?

Yeah.

We need to talk to Hilary King.

Mrs. King?

I'm sorry.

Sorry to disturb you.

Your husband told us you were up here.

One of my husbands, Mr. Barnaby.

Yeah.

Mrs. King, did Ian ever speak to you

about who killed Mr. Baxter?

What do you mean?

Apparently, he spoke to his friend, David Monroe, about it.

He seemed upset.

His father's death hit Ian hard.

They were so alike, passionate, sensitive, sometimes

a little crazy, both of them.

Did you get the impression Ian was becoming more disturbed

lately?

He was very upset about my marriage.

He did all he could to dissuade me.

So perhaps there was some method in his madness.

But recently, he'd seemed to accept Charles.

He'd even begun to take an interest in the business.

I can't believe what he's done.

Mrs. King, I have to tell you that

we suspect that Ian's death was not self-inflicted.

In fact, we believe that Ian was murdered.

What?

He'd been heavily sedated some time before he was found.

No.

No.

Now Mrs. King--

No.

Oh, no.

I'm sorry, I can't believe--

oh, God, no!

What if Sophie's run, sir?

Both killings could be down to her.

She could have stabbed Baxter.

And hoisted him onto that beam?

Maybe her with somebody else.

Lucky little loser.

Oi, hang on!

Young man, come here.

Let me see.

Where did you find this?

In the bushes over there.

We didn't nick it.

No, it's all right.

You're not in any trouble.

But I think we know who owns this.

So I'll hang on onto it, if I may.

That's ours.

Finders keepers.

Off you go, pair of you.

David Monroe says he saw Peter Baxter drive past him the night

he died, didn't he, and that he recognized him by his car

and by the cap he was wearing.

Yeah.

So what's it doing here?

It could have blown off.

It's an open-topped car.

Thank you, Rupert.

Thank you, sir.

Yeah, no.

If it had blown off passing the green,

then David Monroe couldn't have seen the driver wearing it,

could he, by the post box half a mile beyond here.

That's true.

Yeah.

What if-- what if someone else were wearing that cap to make

him look like Baxter, huh?

I mean, the knife, the fragment in the drawer lock.

What if that night Baxter had disturbed

that someone else searching through the offices, eh?

And then he turned the knife on Baxter.

Yeah.

So what Monroe actually saw was Baxter's killer,

driving his car, wearing his cap, which

he later threw into the bushes.

And then what?

Then he drives to the water meadows.

Baxter's dead by this time, in the back seat or the boot,

whatever.

He dumps the body, dumps the knife, leaves the car.

So how did the cap end up in the bushes?

I'm thinking that he runs away from the car,

adrenaline pumping.

But as he crosses the green, he realizes

he's still got the cap on, so tosses it into the bushes.

Works for me.

All we need is the who.

Tell me.

Talk to me.

What is it?

Leave me alone.

We've both lost someone we loved.

Oh, how can you say that?

How can you compare?

He was my only son.

Ever since you--

I think you'd better go.

I want you to know, Hilary--

Just go now, please!

Hilary?

Hilary?

What's happening?

She wants me to leave.

I guess I should.

But I'll be back for the funeral.

No, stay as long as you wish.

You've been up to Ian.

I'm so grateful.

Tom.

I've been waiting in the car for 10 minutes.

I'm sorry.

We can't be late for Cully's opening night.

No, no. Of course we can't.

I was just turning something over in my mind.

Come on.

Come on!

I'm coming, coming.

Done well.

Yeah, absolutely.

Oh, look, d'you know, we should've done that.

You can see the seasons.

It's a new job, eh?

Well, just a bit of cash in hand.

Ian King organized it for me before he.

That was very decent of him.

I-- I think I got him wrong.

He is far gone, far gone.

Truly, in my youth, I suffered much extremity for love

very much like this.

What do you read, my lord?

Words.

Words.

Words.

What is the matter, my Lord?

Between who?

I mean the matter that you read.

Slanders, sir.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in it,

method in it.

Upset by my marriage.

So perhaps there was some method in his madness,

method in his madness, method, method in his madness.

Murder, though it hath no tongue,

will speak with most miraculous organ.

I'll have these players play something

like the murder of my father before mine uncle, father

before mine uncle, before mine uncle,

my father before mine uncle.

The play's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience

of the king, the conscience of the king,

of the king, the king, the king.

I say we will have no more marriage!

Those that are marriage already, all but one shall live.

The rest shall keep as they are.

Tom!

To a nunnery, go!

Cully's on.

Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown.

The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue,

sword, the expectancy and rose of the fair state.

Tom!

Excuse me.

Glass of fashion.

And the mould--

Excuse me.

Thank you.

Oh, woe is me, to have seen what I have seen.

Where are we going?

Belt up and I'll tell you.

Ian King chose "Hamlet" as the opening production

especially for his mother to see.

His mother?

Yeah.

Rub her nose in the fact she'd married her husband's brother.

I don't follow, sir.

Hamlet's father was murdered.

And Alan King died on a business trip

to China with his brother Charles.

Yes, but that was an accident.

Yes, according to the paperwork, it was.

But what if Charles killed Alan King?

Ian King found out about it, and Charles had to shut him up?

- Murdered him? - Yeah.

If I'm right, then Hilary King could be in some danger here.

Oh, come on, come on.

David.

Is Mrs. King in?

Uh, no.

She left about 10 minutes ago.

She's taken Charles to hospital.

What happened?

He started feeling ill, groggy.

I helped to put him in the car.

Is something wrong?

Which hospital?

I don't know.

All right.

You stay here.

If they come back, you call me, yes?

Sure.

Thank you.

There's no record of Charles King being

brought into any of the A&Es.

But they've got a trace on his mobile close to Midsomer Magna.

That's the factory, King's Crystal.

Mrs. King?

Mrs. King.

Drop the dagger.

No, no, Mrs. King.

Please put the knife down.

Put the knife down.

So Charles began to feel ill.

I'd ground some sleeping tablets into his food.

I persuaded him to go to the hospital.

Instead, you took him to the factory.

Yes.

You also took this dagger with you.

Was it your intention to kill Charles?

Yes.

Why?

'Cause he killed my son.

It wasn't you?

You didn't sedate Ian in exactly the same way

before you killed him?

I loved my son.

Charles is your husband.

Yes.

Wished to God I'd--

my marriage to him made Ian so angry, so hostile.

It poisoned everything.

Mrs. King, your first husband, Alan, he died during a visit

to China, didn't he?

And his death was accidental, car crash, yeah?

So Charles claimed.

But I'm convinced now Charles killed Alan, that he lied,

deceived me, all to get control of the company.

And when Ian-- when Ian found out--

How did Ian find out?

He was clearing out his father's study.

He told me he'd found a sketchbook

amongst Alan's things.

A sketchbook?

Yes, Alan had one with him always.

He had one with him in China.

Ian came to me, and he said he had something awful to tell me.

I mean, if only I'd believed him, he would still be alive.

Shall we take a break?

Sophie Baxter, sir.

Missing persons have tracked down a relative who

suggested a possible location.

They're following up.

Good.

So you believe Mrs. King?

Think Charles killed his brother and Ian

to get control of the company?

Well, something made her believe it enough to want

to kill her own husband.

What if she killed her first husband as well?

She marries Charles, kills her son.

She gets control of the company, doesn't she?

Yeah.

But how could she kill Alan King?

I mean, he was in China.

She was here.

And why would she want to kill Peter Baxter?

He was a fly in the ointment, or he knew too much.

She was the one who discovered the body.

If Alan King had a sketchbook in China--

pandas, the Great Wall, and stuff--

that would have been returned to this country with the rest

of his belongings, wouldn't it?

Hello, Ian.

Looking for me?

No, just out for a, you know, walk.

Huh.

Ah!

Found it?

Oh.

"Charles and Peter Baxter are stripping the company's assets,

setting up accounts in the Caymans

with some Chinese consortium.

Whole thing stinks."

My brother was delightful, but he was completely out of touch

with reality.

It was the market that broke King's Crystal,

not any malfeasance on my part.

Did you kill him?

I loved my brother.

You need to know Hilary.

She's hard as nails, gets what she wants.

The rest is window dressing.

She's as unstable as Ian was.

Ian found that sketchbook later,

and that confirmed his suspicions.

You and Baxter had defrauded the company.

Ian had gone to the offices of King's Crystal searching

for proof, the evidence that Peter Baxter

himself had come to destroy.

What are you doing here?

Ian, what are you doing here?

Just tell me.

What?

Peter.

Let go!

Tell me what you are doing.

Get off!

What are doing here?

Peter, stop it.

Why are you looking?

Peter, what are you learning?

Ah!

And during a struggle,

Peter Baxter was accidentally stabbed.

Then Ian panicked.

He bundled the body into the boot of the car.

He put on Baxter's cap and drove down to the water meadow.

If all that's true, then Baxter's death

has nothing to do with me.

Where were you when Ian died?

I was at a Masonic charity do, then came home.

And your wife?

Hilary was in bed, pretending sleep.

I noticed the light was on in her barn

and found Ian there, already dead.

Hilary has told us of the conversation you and she had

in the barn earlier that day.

Back in a sec.

I'll give you a hand hanging those up.

Ian has told me something awful about Peter Baxter's

death.

Ian had indeed told her something awful.

He told her that he had killed Peter Baxter.

And more than that, Hilary said Ian

had told her that he believed that you

had killed his father, Alan.

And that was her fatal mistake, wasn't it?

Because once you heard that, you knew

that Ian had to be silenced.

Because he was right, wasn't he?

You did kill Alan King.

It was an accident, a car crash.

Look, I'm the one who's the victim here.

It's me she tried to kill.

Only after I told her that Ian's death was not a suicide.

And then she knew that everything

that Ian had told her was true and that you

had indeed silenced him.

Hilary?

And then, of course, she wanted revenge.

So that's the line she's been spinning you.

Is that all?

Or have you got anything more vague?

That is what happened, Mr. King.

You haven't a shred of evidence for any

of your fanciful allegations.

I want my lawyer.

Hilary?

Soph!

I was looking for Hilary.

The police are holding her and Charles.

Why?

I don't know.

What happened to you?

Where have you been?

I couldn't take it anymore.

I had to go and see a friend in the north.

Poor Ian.

It's just so--

I still can't believe it.

Last time I saw him, I hated him.

I can't bear that.

Sophie, all that crazy behavior, the wild things

he said, he was trying to protect you.

Protect me?

From the whole mess in his head.

He couldn't bear it.

If it's any comfort, I know he loved you, really loved you.

You loved him too, didn't you?

How are bookings for the play, then?

Fine, thanks.

Cully, I apologize for leaving like that.

It was a work matter, something very important.

Of course.

More important than my work, I'm sure.

D'you know, you completely ruined my entire performance,

Dad.

I'm sorry.

Can I give you a lift?

No, thanks.

I'll walk, do a line run.

Don't want to dry again.

Thanks, Mum.

Leave it, Tom.

She's very stressed.

Well, she's not alone in that.

Do you want a drink?

No, thanks.

What is happening? Can you tell me?

Yes.

I have a wife and a husband each accusing the other of murder.

Very little evidence, beside my own gut feelings.

Any witnesses?

No, only victims.

No help there, then.

Unless.

What?

Unless there's a silent witness

that could tell us exactly what happened.

That's good news. Thank you.

Bye.

Sophie Baxter's turned up in the village, sir.

Has she?

Oh, thank God for that.

You can give her a good telling off, though,

for leaving the scene of a police investigation

without informing us.

Bit coarse, sir, digging him up.

But if I'm right, I'm sure his widow will forgive us.

The British Consulate papers that were flown back

with Alan King's body say that he died as a result of a car

crash and subsequent burn out.

Yes, but were they right?

Well, I thought so, until I examined the contents

of his stomach and found significant quantities

of finely ground glass.

Glass?

Yeah, it's a new one on me, too.

So I dug out the books.

And there it was, a rare form of poisoning particular to China.

So Alan King was poisoned by Charles,

and that caused him to crash?

Are you sure?

Mhm.

Would have been dead within 20 minutes.

And then I'll take you to a custody suite, where you'll

be formally charged with the murders

of Ian King and Alan King.

Nonsense!

That is not true.

Oh, Mr. King, truth is what a jury will believe.

And I'm sure they will be convinced that you are

as guilty as we know you are.

You're going to have to admit it, Mr. King,

to me, to the court, and to yourself.

Oh, don't cut your finger again, sir.

I've got something for you.

It's the one I got when I joined the lodge.

Oh, thank you.

No use to me now.

The brotherhood have me down as a traitor.

They slice out traitors' tongues,

don't they, and bury them at low tide, I believe?

I appreciated your trust over the Masons thing.

Well, trust, Jones, is something hard to win,

easy to lose, and never to be taken lightly.

William Shakespeare, sir?

No, Thomas Barnaby.

Ah.