All language subtitles for Midsomer.Murders.S09E06.Country.Matters.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

♪

♪

Call that grooming?

♪

♪

-EEE!
-EEE!
-EEEE!

I think I'm gonna have
to take you in hand.

Yes, I think you are.

♪

♪

Help!

Help!

Don't worry, my dear.

I'll soon have you out of that.

Help!

Thank God!

Apple pie, my darling, your favorite.

What a wonderful wife you are.

♪

♪

♪

I'll cut you a piece and then
it'll be time for your nap.

♪

♪

♪

♪

It can change you.

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

You look a bit lost.

-Uh, no.
-Nothing to be ashamed of.

I come here all the time, and I still
get in a bit of a muddle.

Susan Wicking, I'm the vicar
of-cum-Latterley.

Everyone calls me Rev Suze.

I'm here every Saturday, 12 till 2.

Sorry, would you mind?

Amen.

Thank you so much for that.

Brilliant meeting you.

What was all that about?

We were praying you would
find the horseradish.

Well, I do, but it's not
the kind you like.

They only stock their own brand now.

Yeah, it's the same stuff.
Hello, Rose.

Rejoice. Tom, this is
Rose Southerly, who

runs the Cordon Bleu Cookery
School at Elverton.

I did a course there, remember?

Yeah, vividly.

How did you do?

I think I've just run into your vicar.

She was saving lost souls
by the baked beans.

Yeah, she's got some sort of weird
arrangement with Goodfare.

Actually, that's rather
a bone of contention.

Why?

Goodfare have got planning
permission to

build a huge new supermarket
in Elverton.

A supermarket in Elverton?

Well, we've contested it
all along, of course.

There's a big meeting on Monday.

I doubt there's anything
we can do now.

Oh, well done, darling.

Joyce, do you remember Dora?

This is Mr. and Mrs. Barnaby.

Mrs. Barnaby did one of my courses.

How do you do?

Hi, Dora.

Anyway, this supermarket
business is ghastly.

The whole village is at war over it.

Surprised there haven't
been any murders.

Bye.

♪

♪

♪

♪

Morning.

♪

Hiya, Danny.

Bye, Dad.

See you. Oi, do some ruddy
work today, will you?

Whatever.

♪

♪

♪

♪

♪

What did you get?

Lager.

Ugh.

I detest lager.

It's all I could get.

You live in a pub, Otis.

You should be able to get anything.

Not with my dad around.

I can't.

My dad and your mum went out for
a drink the other night.

They bumped into each other, Otis.

They did not go out.

Fact.

So what if they did?

Your dad's dead, my mum's in Florida.

It'd be cool if they got together.

It would not be cool.

It would be gross.

If they got married, would that mean
you and me couldn't be an item?

Lotus, Mummy would never marry
a man who runs a pub.

Fact.

And you and I will never be an item.

Not in a million years.

Not if you were the last male of the
entire species on the planet.

Shh!

Someone's coming.

What's he doing?

How should I know?

It's probably something to do with
the ghastly supermarket.

My dad says he'll sell
the pub and make a

shedload of money if they
build a supermarket.

Mummy says we'll leave the
village if they build it.

What?

Leave Elverton?

Yeah.

And you'll never see me again.

Now, wouldn't that break
your heart, Otis?

♪

♪

Celia, what do you think?

Oh, it's sweet.

She's been so good recently.

Morning.

Hello. Hello. Can you two come
round two hours later?

Orlando wants to discuss his tactics
for the protest meeting.

We'll be there.

OK, excellent.

-See you later.
-Bye.
-Bye-bye.

Actually, I've got a client at 11.

Get the skates on.

All right, darling.

-See you later.
-Bye.

Bye-bye.

♪

♪

♪

♪

Do come in.

Have you had a horrible day, darling?

Horrible.

It's such a relief to come
home to my lovely wife.

I'll soon cheer you up.

What's happening about
the supermarket?

Well, looks like it's going ahead.

Actually, there's a meeting tonight.

But I don't think there's
anything we can do now.

You need a knight in shining armour.

Yes.

We do.

Perhaps I could be your knight
in shining armour.

Oh, you already are, darling.

No.

Seriously, Rose.

I wish.

I wish you really were my wife.

Please don't say things like that.

Look, I've made you a
lovely sponge cake.

Shall I be mummy?

♪

I've got your organic
veg for you, Ginny.

Thanks, Gary.

Don't forget the meeting
this evening, will you?

Don't worry, I'll be there.

You won't get veg like
that in a good fair.

Sorry, that was Gary Talbot
with our organic veg.

The prices that man charges.

Sometimes I wonder if
a supermarket in the

village wouldn't be such
a bad idea after all.

Sacrilege, Jeremy.

We've all got to watch the pennies.

Yeah, thank you. I don't
need reminding.

We had to sell our munnings, you know.

My munnings, actually, darling.

And I do wish you'd shut up about it.

Can we get back to the
supermarket, please?

Right, these plans have been
turned down at every level.

And now the bloody deputy
prime minister's

office has given them the
go-ahead regardless.

But why?

Affordable housing, darling.

Yep, the magic words.

Good fair promise to throw
up a couple of

jerry-built houses on the site and
everyone rolls over for them.

And this damn industrial
pollution, they

found, means no one else
will touch the site.

So our only chance now is to go to the
European Court of Human Rights.

And frankly, I don't think
they'll want to know.

Anyway, that's what I'm going
to put to the meeting.

It's worth a try.

Mm-hmm.

Yes.

Now, there's something we need to discuss
as regards to the business.

Rose, it concerns you.

Me?

You and Danny Pickett.

Rose, not to put too fine a point on it,
there's been talk in the village.

God's sake, Orlando, it's only
three years since Giles died.

What do you expect poor Rose to
do, join a bloody nunnery?

I don't care who she consorts with.

Frankly, the landlord of the Woodmen
does seem a rather odd choice.

But she can't carry on with
him or anyone else for

that matter and stay in the
business, simple as that.

I mean, sooner or later, he's
bound to hear something or

see something, and then the game
will be up for all of us.

Look, I admit he's been pestering me.

And yes, I had a drink with
him, to be polite.

But honestly, that's
all there is to it.

No intention of consorting
with him, as you put it.

Of course you haven't, darling.

You've got far too much taste.

I'm only interested in the business.

Believe me.

I can't afford not to be.

Wimpy, wimpy.

Wimpy.

Rose, I saved you a seat, darling.

Oh, thank you.

Uh, Rose.

Actually, Rose, we're going
to sit in the front.

Mummy, I'm going to go
and sit with Otis.

All right.

We sit in the back, Dad, OK?

I suppose so.

-Frank?
-Damn it, his phone's off.

Frank, is Miranda Harvey
returning your call?

Listen, Dudley and I appreciate
the interest, but...

Actually, I don't appreciate
your interest, Frank.

I really don't know what's getting
to you, so just stay away.

You got that?

That is a little tense, that's all.

Call me as soon as you get
this message, Frank.

-Don't worry.
-He'll be fine.

He's got too much to lose.

Tell you something, if he turns up
here tonight, I'll kill him.

Good to see you again.

Welcome, everybody.

You don't know me. I'm the Rev Sews, and
I've been asked to keep the peace.

We have Orlando Lamington from the
Stop the Supermarket Committee.

We have Miranda Hardy on behalf
of Goodfare Supermarket.

A lovely painter from the council.

What did you get?

It was cards and fags.

Cool, come on.

It's important that we understand
that Goodfare have

committed to building affordable housing
for six families on the site.

Goodfell will also clean up the site.

They will clean up the pollution
caused by the old timber yard.

Now, that's something that the council
couldn't afford to do.

Now, wouldn't you mean?

Just another council whitewash,
isn't it, eh?

This isn't just another supermarket
we're talking about.

It's a program of rejuvenation
for a whole village!

Because we care at Goodfair.

We all know that permission for this

supermarket has already been passed
at the highest level.

But we must reconsider the potential

erosion of the quality of
life in this village.

the increased volume in traffic, and
the threat to local businesses.

What local businesses?

Elverton is dead.

Why can't you get that through
your thick, yuppie head?

Well, what about my shop?

Your shop?

It's only incomers can afford
to use the place.

Us locals have to drive to Causton
a shop, because we

can't all live on sun-dried tomatoes
at five pound a throb.

Come on, guys.

Give everyone a chance
to have their say.

Danny Pickett doesn't
care what happens to

this village, because he
won't be here, will he?

He's selling the woodman a good flair.

So you won't have a pub anymore.

You'll have a petrol station.

Greedy bastard's got his snout in
the trough with good flair.

Get off!

Get off her!

Get off!

Daddy!

And keep your hands off
her, Lamington!

What are you talking about?

You know exactly what
I'm talking about!

Stay away from her, alright?

Oh, can I, Bill?

Daddy!

Daddy!

That is enough!

Otis, get off.

Get off what?

Get off me!

Move your hand!

Don't touch me!

How many times do I have
to tell you, you loser?

I'm not.

I'm trying to open this bottle.

-Oh, just stop it.
-It's so not funny.

Look!

I'm not touching you, you see?

♪

George.

Stab wounds to the chest top.

No cuts to the hands and arms,
so he didn't put up a fight.

Taken out of West, perhaps?

Time of death?

8 to 12 hours ago, or nearer
12 at first glance.

These marks, George, I suggest he was
dragged here from somewhere else.

Probably.

No sign of the murder weapon yet, sir.

Thank you, George.

OK.

These were in the grass over there.

Do we know who he is?

Not yet, sir.

Who found the body?

Couple of kids messing
around last night.

What are all these about?

Something to do with this
old timber mill.

Apparently, the signs have only just gone
up, but nobody takes any notice.

Locals have been taking shortcuts and
walking their dogs here for years.

Right.

Let's go and see what the
kids have got to say.

You don't have to go to
school today, darling.

But I want to.

I want to tell everyone what happened.

It's so cool.

Mrs. Southerly, we'd really like to talk
to you and Dora privately, please.

Don't worry.

We're off.

And you'll be all right?

Of course, we'll be fine.

Don't forget, will you?

I won't.

Just ring, Rose.

Anytime.

Thanks.

Now, can you tell us, please, exactly
what happened last night?

-Now, it's OK.
-There's no need to rush.

Take your time.

It was Otis's idea.

He said, let's go to Jubbsville
for a laugh.

Meeting was so unbelievably
boring, so I went.

That meeting was about the supermarket
development, yes?

Yes.

What time is this?

I don't know.

The meeting started at
half past eight.

So we went to Jubbsville, and
there was this dead man.

It was just like a film.

How exactly did you find this man?

It was so gross.

We sat down, OK, and it was
totally, totally dark.

Then I felt this hand on me.

I thought it was Otis,
so I shouted at him.

Then Otis lit his cigarette
lighter, and there he was,

this man, always lying on me, his
eyes wide open like that.

I knew straight away he was dead.

And you saw no one else
on Jubb's field?

No.

Is Otis your boyfriend?

No way.

Otis is a complete loser.

So who stole the vodka?

Not me.

Otis got it from the pub.

Fact.

Vodka?

-Dora?
-I didn't have any, Mum.

I detest alcohol.

This man, had you ever
seen him before?

No, never.

OK.

Thank you, Dora.

Yeah, that's it.

That meeting, it got rather
heated, I understand.

Well, feelings ran rather high, but
that's to be expected, isn't it?

Thank you.

Is it me, or do I sense a certain
reluctance to talk?

Oh, yes.

We were sitting there, and we
saw him, this, this bloke.

You saw him in the dark?

Yeah, in the dark.

But you could just see him.

When you lit your cigarette lighter.

I don't have a cigarette lighter.

He doesn't smoke for crying out loud.

He knows I'd kill him if he did.

Otis, did you recognize this man?

Had you ever seen him before?

No, why would I?

He was just a man in a suit with
a briefcase, only he was dead.

Oh, he had a briefcase, did he?

Only, we didn't find any
briefcase, did we?

No.

So, Otis, what do you think might
have happened to this briefcase?

What's this?

You're saying my son's a thief?

Mr. Pickett, I'm trying to establish

what your son might or
might not have seen.

Bet he didn't accuse Dora Southerly
of nicking any briefcases.

OK, Otis, this is the deal.

I won't mention vodka or
cigarettes to your dad.

And you will tell me the truth.

We saw him earlier.

Earlier when?

During the day.

Where?

Me and Dora were on Job's Field
when this bloke turned up.

So we hid.

Bucking off again, weren't you?

Mr. Pickett, please.

Hello?

What was he doing?

I don't know.

He was digging.

He was digging?

Yeah. He dug up something and
put it in his briefcase.

Is this another one of your
stupid stories, Otis?

No, Dad, it's the truth!

That'll be a first.

Sir, they've found something.

How'd they manage to miss this, then?

No idea, sir.

♪

Looks like a kitchen knife, sir.

It is.

It's one of the chef's knives.

Choice to go and sit like that.

Cost me a fortune.

Waltham Park must have been here.

Yeah.

Oh, there's a license on the bullet.

No cash, no credit cards.

And his name is Frank Hopkirk,
lives in Causton.

Looks like there was a
laptop in the bag.

Maybe it was a straightforward
mugging.

He put up a fight, got
himself stabbed.

Bullard said there was no
sign of a struggle.

These papers, sir.

What about them?

Some kind of a report on the
supermarket development.

Oh, what have we here?

The Rose Southerly Cordon
Bleu Cookery School.

Well, well, perhaps I should have another
word with Mrs. Rose Southerly.

Um, could you give me a Polaroid
of that knife, please, now?

-Yes, straight away, sir.
-Thank you.

And, uh, Jones, you can talk
to the victim's family.

Me, sir?

Yes, sir, you, sir.

I think it's time you learned the delicate
art of delivering bad news.

You all right with that?

I think so.

Thank you.

A dead man was carrying one of your
business cards, Mrs. Sotheby.

He was?

Yeah.

He was in his 50s, average height, gray
hair, mustache, smartly dressed.

Any of your cookery students
answer to that description?

Oh, dear.

Mrs. Sotheby?

No.

It sounds a bit like it
could be Mr. Johnson.

I've been teaching him to cook, and
it was a surprise for his wife.

And he was here yesterday?

Yes.

Yes, he was.

Is that him?

Yes. That's him. Except his name, according
to that, is Frank Hopkirk.

I'm sorry.

I don't know what to say. He told
me his name was, um, Johnson.

Sorry.

Oh.

Maybe he didn't want his
wife to find out.

Find out what?

He was taking cookery lessons.

You said he was doing it as
a surprise for his wife.

Oh.

I see what you mean.

Yes, I suppose that must be it.

Mrs. Southerly, um, are you
missing any knives?

My knives?

I don't understand.

Why would I be? Could you have
a quick check, please?

Oh, yes, of course.

I'll just clean up.

I think that's it.

Bye.

Wait a minute. Where's
my vegetable knife?

I bought it in France.

It must be here somewhere.

Mrs. Southerly?

Mrs. Southerly, is that it?

Well, yes, that looks very like it.

♪

Oh my god, is that the...

is that how he was...

Yes, it is.

But you can't possibly think...

You're not suggesting that
I killed him, are you?

Well, it can't have been missing long.

I'd have noticed.

It's my favorite knife.

Use it all the time.

So apart from Frank Hopkirk, who
else was here yesterday?

Some ladies from Midsomer Parver.

Eight of them are doing
a baking course.

You got the names?

Yes, but their average
age is well over 70.

I'd imagine them murdering anyone,
except with their fairy cakes.

So no one else came here?

No, just Mr. Johnson and the ladies
from Midsomer Parver.

So you taught?

You taught Mr. Hopkirk
on a-to-one basis?

Yes.

How did he pay?

Cash.

-In advance?
-No, after every lesson.

That's a bit unusual, isn't it?

I suppose so.

Never really thought about it,
to tell you the truth.

Um, well, a forensic technician.

I'll have to take your fingerprints.

Oh, it's just routine, I assure you.

Hello, Dora.

Hello.

Dora, could we have a little
talk about yesterday?

I told you about yesterday.

Yesterday morning.

Yesterday morning, I was at school.

No, you weren't.

You were on Jubb's field with
Otis Bigot, weren't you?

Fact.

-Oh, my god.
-The loser grassed me up.

Only under intense pressure, Dora.

That man you found, you saw him that morning
on Jubb's field, didn't you?

What was he doing?

It was weird.

He dug something up, put it in a
container, and then he went.

I hope you told my mum.

No, I thought I'd leave
that up to you.

OK.

Are you married?

Yes.

Why?

Mummy's a widow.

Did you know?

It's so boring with all these
men hanging around.

What men?

-Sorry.
-Ghost guy.

Rose Southerly?

No.

Yes.

She was giving the victim
cookery lessons.

Those nice pajamas.

Yes.

You don't mind, do you?

I was a bit cold last night.

You've got to hand it to Rose.

What have I got to hand to her?

Well, her husband was killed
in that car crash, what?

Three years ago.

Left her in an awful mess financially.

Huge overdraft, huge mortgage.

No life insurance or anything.

So she knuckled under and started
the cookery business.

She's done jolly well at it, too.

Yeah, well, she must have done.

She's got a big house, her
kids, that's in Chad's.

She's a lovely little girl.

Earplugs, Joyce?

You know, I haven't been
sleeping well, Tom.

I thought this might help.

Good night, darling.

I've got no rooted objection to
you wearing my pajamas, Joyce.

But it's a little weird getting into
bed with someone dressed like that.

-What?
-Hmm.

Good night, Joyce.

Good night, Tom.

Do you remember what time?

Morning, sir.

Morning.

This is Hopkirk's car.

The rev thinks it's been here
since yesterday morning.

Didn't think much of
it, but still here

this morning, so gave
you a lot of bell.

I'd better get going.

Things to do, people to see.

The rev goes for a run every morning.

That's right. Change in the vestry after
early communion, and off I go.

Do you go the same route
every morning?

Oh, yeah.

Down High Street, along the Causton Road,
right into Nether Lane, and back.

You didn't notice anything out of
the ordinary yesterday morning?

No, but as I told Ben here, I'm pretty
oblivious when I'm jogging.

Quality time with the boss, you see.

Sorry.

Prayer, Inspector.

We still do it, you know.

Catch you later, guys.

Yes.

Catch you later.

Oh, God.

Do we know what Mr. Hopkirk
did for a living?

He was an environmental health consultant,
whatever that means.

Obviously pays well going
by the car, doesn't he?

According to his wife, he
was working for Goodfair

Supermarkets, which would explain
the paperwork we found.

But I can't get anyone at
Goodfair to confirm it.

What do we know about his
movements yesterday?

Well, here's what we've
got so far, sir.

Otis and Dora saw him on
Jobsfield at about 9.

After that, he went for his cookery
lesson at Roe Southerly's.

Cookery lesson?

He had a drink at the Woodman
round about midday,

then went to the village shop
and bought a snack.

After that, nothing.

Till he turns up dead
on Jobsfield, eh?

Bullard reckons he died at around
7 o'clock in the evening.

So what was he doing
all the afternoon?

Jones?

Thanks.

Mrs. Hopkirk's ready to identify
the body, sir.

Oh.

It's probably coming from
the Patchett's place.

They run a rural pursuit center.

Rural pursuits center?

Yeah, clay pigeon shooting, fly
fishing, stuff like that.

Sounds quite interesting.

You can even do a course in
hedging and ditching.

A course in hedging and ditching?

Oh, you're still my beating heart.

Yes, that's my husband.

That's Frank.

Don't be ridiculous.

Um, excuse me. Don't even
think about it.

Mrs. Hawker.

Do you know what your husband
was doing in Elverton?

Working on some new supermarket
development, according to him.

Yeah.

And taking lessons at
a cookery school.

You must be joking.

Didn't you know about that?

No, I did not.

Look, where cooking's concerned,
Frank was strictly Stone Age.

He couldn't boil a kettle.

It was a woman, I suppose, giving him
these so-called cookery lessons.

Yes, it was.

Attractive?

Yes, yes, you could say that.

Well, that would be of
more interest to

Frank than whipping up a
casserole, believe me.

Could you enlarge on
that, Mrs. Alcock?

Where women are concerned, Frank couldn't
help himself, Inspector.

I suppose these days he'd
be called an addict.

Is that all?

I've got arrangements to make,
starting with a long holiday.

I told you she was scary.

A word, Tom, if you've got a minute?

Yes.

Better pick up now.

I wanted to show you these bruises
before I open him up.

There are similar ones
on his back as well.

-Ah, so he did.
-He put up a fight?

He may have been in a fight, Tom, yes,
but some hours before he was stabbed.

There's something under
his fingernails.

It could be soap.

I'll get it checked out.

-Thank you.
-Oh, and his buttocks.

What about his buttocks?

Light bruising and abrasions.

Same sort of bruises on the chest?

Oh, no.

Very different. These marks
suggest mild chastisement.

The sort administered for
recreational purposes.

Want to see?

I suppose I've got to, haven't I?

Test what?

Chastisement, Jones.

Somebody gently, not so gently,

beat him for pleasure.

OK, what about this?

Hopkirk comes to Elverton
on good, fair business.

He sees Rose around the village, likes her,
so he signs up for cookery lessons.

And then?

He tries it on, but she
doesn't want to know.

He forces himself on her.

There's a struggle in the kitchen,
hence the bruises.

She grabs the knife, bosh.

Or, more likely, Rose welcomes
Hopkirk's advances.

She falls in love with him.

But Hopkirk's already married,
won't leave his

wife, and Rose kills him in
a fit of jealous rage.

Rose falls in love with Hopkirk?

No way.

I mean, she's a looker, isn't she?

Hopkirk's in his 50s.

He's an old man.

Jones, the human heart
is a fickle organ.

Passions can be aroused in the most
unlikely of circumstances.

You mean the chastisement stuff?

No, I don't mean the
chastisement stuff.

I mean, human relationships
are complex and not

based solely on whether one
is or is not a looker.

If you say so, sir.

Anyway, if she did kill
him, how did she

move the body to Chubbs
Field on her own?

Well, maybe she had help.

She's not without friends.

Maybe it's to do with this
new supermarket.

Rose, the Lamingtons, the Patchetts,
they're all dead against it.

What are you saying?
They all ganged up

together to kill an environmental
health consultant.

That's a bit far-fetched, Jones.

Well, there was a report in
Hopkirk's case on the

Chubbs Field site, and some
of the pages were missing.

And whatever he was digging up, there's
no sign of that either.

You want to see me?

Yes, please, Mr. Pickett.

-Here, come.
-Take a seat.

Thank you.

This man, you ever seen him before?

Yeah.

Came in the pub yesterday lunchtime.

Already told one of your lot.

His name's Frank Hopkirk.

He was an environmental
health consultant.

We think he was working for Goodfare.

You talked to him?

A bit.

He was asking about some
bloke who used to

work at Jubb's timber mill,
Johnny somebody.

Used to drink in here.

Did you know?

Of course not.

The timber mill closed in the 80s.

He only bought the pub 10 years ago.

Did Mr. Hopkirk mention
Rose Southerly at all?

No. Why should he? No particular
reason, Mr. Pickett.

You're not dragging Rose
into this, are you?

Not dragging anyone anywhere,
Mr. Piggott.

I'm trying to conduct a
murder investigation.

Yeah, well, she's the only one of
that lot I've got time for.

That lot?

The Lamingtons, the Patchetts,
the Greenwelly Brigade.

Didn't you have a bit of a set-to with
Lamington at the village hall?

It got in my face.

Orlando Lamington's been trying
to shut me down for years.

You got something to say, Gary Talbot?

Say it to my face!

You're bloody Judith, piggot!

And you had a set too with Mr.
Talbot as well, didn't you?

We had words, yeah. But
I don't see what this

has got to do with a dead
bloke on Jubb's Field.

Oh, probably nothing at all, Mr.
Pickett, nothing at all.

Oh, thank you.

We'll, uh, we'll talk again.

He's got a short fuse,
our Mr. Piggott.

Has he got a record?

-No, sir.
-Not even a parking ticket.

So where did Hopkirk go next?

Village shop, sir.

Must have been my wife who served him.

I was out doing the deliveries.

Mrs. Talbot.

-Yes.
-That was him.

He came in about 1 o'clock and
bought some chocolate.

Did he say anything?

He was asking about someone who used
to work at Jubb's timber mill.

Remember his name?

No, I'm afraid not.

The mill's been closed down for years.

Mr. Talbot, how long does it take
you to do your deliveries, then?

An hour.

An hour and a half.

And where?

Where do you make these deliveries?

Around the village, Lamington's
and Midsomer Market.

An hour and a half to deliver
two boxes of vegetables.

And you didn't see Mr. Hopkirk at
all during these deliveries?

No, I did not.

Thank you, Mr. Talbot.

Mrs. Talbot, thank you.

What's the big idea, saying that
about my delivery route?

No big idea, Gary.

I just don't know what's
up with you these days.

If they build a good fair on Job's
Field, we'll go out of business.

That's what's up with me.

And now, thanks to you, I'm probably
a suspect in a murder inquiry.

You?

Nobody's going to suspect
you of murder.

You're not interesting enough.

There's another one not
telling us everything.

Even his wife doesn't believe him.

Mm-hmm.

That could come in useful, couldn't
it, for shifting a body?

That's the Lamington woman, sir.

Yes, I know.

Hey, Jones, go back inside.

Check the details of Talbot's
delivery room.

Sir, let me check it.

Inspector Barnaby?

Yes. Miranda Harvey, public relations coordinator
for Goodfare Supermarkets.

I'd like to talk to you
about Frank Hopkirk.

First of all,

everyone at Goodfare is
absolutely devastated.

Frank was not only a respected colleague,
he was a true friend.

Mrs. Harvey, how long had Mr. Hopkirk
been working for Goodfare then?

Frank Hopkirk wasn't a
Goodfare employee.

He was an independent consultant.

I hope you'll make that clear in
any statements to the press.

So he wasn't working for Goodfare?

We were consulting him, Inspector.

About what?

Most recently, about the Jubbs timber
mill site here in Elverton.

Frank Hopkirk was an expert
in industrial pollution.

The Jubbs field site is
polluted, you see.

He was advising the council as well.

He was advising the council as well?

Oh, yes.

He had a good working relationship
with the council.

You'd have to speak to Dudley
Painter about that.

Who's Dudley Painter? Chairman
of the planning committee.

Yes, well, I will.

Oh.

Mrs. Harvey, when did you last have
contact with Mr. Hopkirk?

He tried to contact me
yesterday afternoon.

About what? About the meeting
at the village hall.

Did we need him to attend?

That sort of thing.

That's Frank all over, always
trying to be helpful.

So you did speak to him
yesterday afternoon?

No, his phone was off,
so I left a message.

Look, I think it's important we're all

singing from the same hymn
sheet, don't you?

Singing about what?

There are concerns about the way this

unfortunate incident is
depicted in the media.

Oh, I see you're worried
about Goodfare's good

name being associated with a
bloody and brutal murder.

Yes, that's one way of putting it.

I'm very sorry, Mrs. Harvey,
but I can't help you there.

Ah, Jones.

Excuse me.

Thank you.

They lifted a couple of
prints off the knife.

Ah, and?

They match Rose Southerly's.

Do they?

-Hm.
-Oh.

And what did you glean about Gary
Talbot's delivery round?

Ah, interesting.

He says he got the Midsomer
Market order

wrong and had to go back
there early evening.

Early evening when?

About 7.

That's around about the time that
Hopkirk may have been killed.

Mm-hmm. The wife didn't
say as much, but

she obviously thinks he's
up to something.

Maybe it's to do with a conspiracy.

Conspiracy?

What conspiracy?

This new supermarket development.

A mate of my Uncle Harry's
used to work at Jubb's.

He even got Rosa Savalier's prints
on the murder weapon.

-Now, come on.
-First things first.

Are you going to charge him?

Well, there's no harm in letting
them know it's a possibility.

Oh, look.

Orlando's going to see Mummy.

Do you think Orlando will get a
divorce and marry your mum?

God, no.

She likes Orlando, but
only as a friend.

What does that mean?

It's what people say when they
don't fancy someone.

Maybe she'll marry my dad.

Shut up, Otis.

She's not going to marry anyone.

She's still in love with my
dad and always will be.

Fact.

Poor Orlando, he's completely
wasting his time.

Look, you know how much
I care for you.

Please, don't start that again.

You know how it upsets me.

Is it because of Danny Piggott?

Are you in love with him?

No, I am not.

Honestly, Orlando, just because
I won't leap into bed

with you does not mean I'm in
love with Danny Piggott.

It's not about leaping
into bed with anyone.

Look, Rose, I love you,
for God's sake.

Always have, always will.

You just say the word, and I'll
leave Ginny now, this moment.

We'll get the hell out of Helverton.

We'll go wherever you like,
America, France.

I don't care. I just want
to be with you.

Stop it, Orlando.

Stop it.

Oh, no.

It's that policeman.

Barnaby.

Mrs. Southerly, may we
have a word, please?

Oh, yes, of course.

Thank you.

Any problems, you give me a ring.

My fingerprints?

Your fingerprints, Mrs. Southerly.

Oh, God.

Now, how we proceed from here,
that's entirely up to you.

What do you mean?

Well, you could start, couldn't
you, by telling me

the truth about your relationship
with Frank Hopkirk.

I have told you the truth.

No, Mrs. Southerly, I don't
believe you have.

I don't believe.

This plastic garlic,

that's not very cordon bleu, is it?

Please don't touch that.

Oh,

what have we here?

I, um, record some of my classes.

Here.

-Secretly?
-No, no.

You record your classes
with Frank Hopkirk?

Oh, come on, Mrs. Southerly.

Sooner or later, you're going to
have to tell us the truth.

All right.

All right, Inspector.

I'll tell you the truth about my relationship
with Frank Hopkirk.

Sitting down on the job,
Mr. Hunsecker?

Oh, those English saddles,
they're heavy.

You know, I don't think you've
been properly broken in,

Mr. Hunsecker.

Oh, I just love that accent.

Get on your feet.

Go over to the bench.

It'll be my pleasure That is

the General idea mr.

Hunsaker

♪

Ooh!

Giles, my husband, was killed in
a car crash three years ago.

I found out that Giles hadn't been very
careful with money, to put it mildly.

I desperately needed to earn
some money, so I started

the catering business, weddings,
funerals, shooting parties.

People love to hire a friend in need.

It makes them feel morally superior.

Anyway, then I started the
Cordon Bleu school.

And was it a success?

Not at all.

I got myself deeper into debt.

Then, one of my students,
charming man,

very wealthy, made me an offer.

He offered me a ridiculous sum of money
to spend the night with him,

the equivalent of Dora's school fees
for a whole term in one fell swoop.

Offer you couldn't refuse.

Exactly.

You mean you did all that with Jones?

Please, carry on, Mrs. Southerly.

Well, he started coming to see
me regularly, and then

he introduced me to a friend,
and then another friend.

Friends with similar tastes,
men in need of solace.

♪

I'd cook them something comforting,
cake's always very popular.

Listen to their problems
about work and family.

Tell them how wonderful they are.

♪

-and comforting.
-That's my speciality.

I see myself as a sort
of fantasy wife.

You'd be amazed how many men are
willing to pay for that.

And, um, Frank Hopkirk, he
was one of them, was he?

Yes, but I didn't know his real name, and
I didn't know he worked for Goodfare.

And you made recordings?

As a precaution.

There was a journalist once
who threatened to make

trouble till I pointed out
that I had him on camera.

Quite a bit of him, as it happens.

Mrs. Southerly, do you have a recording
of Frank Hopkirk's last visit?

Yes, I do.

Well, we'd like to see it.

♪

♪

Who's there?

♪

Only me, Lady Celia.

Mellert?

You're not supposed to be in
this part of the wood.

I was, uh, looking for poachers.

Do I look like a poacher, Mellert?

No, you certainly don't.

Well, now you're here.

You might as well have
a glass of champagne.

Thank you, m'lady.

Have you had a horrible day, darling?

Horrible.

Such a relief.

Good camera.

Quality lens.

What's happening about
the supermarket?

Well, it looks like it's going ahead.

Actually, there's a big
meeting tonight.

You need a night.

Could you pause it there, please?

Oh, yes, sweet.

Was that the first time you discussed the
supermarket development with him?

Yes, but I didn't know
he was involved.

Look, I've cooked you a
lovely sponge cake.

Show them your money.

Could you fast-forward that?

I want to see when Frank Hopkirk left.

Are you going to arrest me?

What for?

Murder?

What about thee?

That is not my department,
Mrs. Southerly.

Thank you, Inspector.

But I will need that
recording, please.

Recording of Frank Hopkirk's
last visit.

No, she didn't do it, Jones.

Popkirk left her kitchen at 12.30.

He's still alive and kicking, and the

murder weapon was still
on the kitchen table.

Five minutes later, he's
teaching the good

ladies of Midsomer Parva how
to make fairy cakes.

And she spent the rest of
the afternoon with Dora.

Someone must have nicked the knife.

Yes, someone went to a great deal of trouble
to incriminate Rose Sutherley.

Mr. Bender.

Ah, Inspector.

Take a seat, please.

You two know each other
already, don't you?

Great.

Great.

So how's the investigation
coming along?

Well, I'd rather discuss it
in private, if we may.

As you know, Miranda worked very
closely with Frank Hopkirk.

And I want to help in any
way I can, Inspector.

Yes, I do appreciate that.

But as Frank Hopkirk was working
for the council.

Whoa, no, no.

Frank was an independent
consultant, Inspector.

As I made clear.

Yes, but the council were consulting
him, weren't they?

As we're good for.

It's not a conflict of
interest, though.

Certainly not.

Both parties working to a
common end, Inspector.

Exactly.

So you were both consulting
him about pollution at

Jubb's timber yard and adjacent
Jubb's field, yes?

Yes.

Jubb's used an arsenic-based pesticide
to treat their timber.

It's been phased out now, but it
was very common back then.

It seems Jubb's had some sort of
industrial accident, spillage.

Well, to cut a long story
short, the levels of

arsenic in the topsoil are
way over the limit.

So the site is contaminated?

Yeah.

Unusable.

Unless the topsoil is
removed and treated.

It's far too expensive for
the council to do.

So Goodfare get the land cheap?

Maybe.

But they also clean up the site
at their own expense.

So what was Mr. Hopkirk doing on Jubb's
field then on the day he died?

More tests?

No, no.

Tests were all done.

It was probably a health
and safety matter.

I know that Mr. Hopkirk tried to
contact you and Mrs. Harvey

on the day he died, but did you talk
to him at all, Mr. Painter?

-Me?
-No, absolutely not.

Oh, excuse me, folks.

That's my 1.30.

♪

So I took the top of his head off, had
a poke around, and guess what?

Surprised me, George.

Poor devil had a massive stroke.

A stroke?

Are you saying that's what killed him?

-Oh, no.
-The stabbing killed him.

I reckon he had the stroke
round about the same

time he sustained the bruises
to his chest and back.

If he was involved in a fight or
dispute of some sort, that

would have raised his blood pressure
and perhaps caused the stroke.

But it was some hours later
that he was stabbed.

Anyway, it solves the problem
of the stab wounds.

What problem?

They're very symmetrical,
Tom, all from the same

angle, which suggests that
he remained motionless

whilst being attacked, which
people tend not to do.

Unless they're unconscious.

Or paralyzed.

So you're saying he could
have had the stroke and

remained unconscious or paralyzed
for what, five, six hours?

It's possible.

And then been stabbed?

Uh-huh.

Um, you said something
about Andrew's nails.

Oh, yes.

Beeswax, lanolin, and turpentine.

Now, your starter for 10.

Saddle soap.

Spot on.

I'm very impressed, Ben.

And there's something else.

You'll never guess what.

What, George?

Residue on his hands.

Gunshot residue.

So he fired a shotgun not
long before he died.

I tell you, this chap's
a mine of information.

♪

♪

♪

Well,

at least we can fill
in some of the gaps

in Mr. Hopkirk's last
day, now, can't we?

We can?

Yes, we can.

Where do you think he got the saddle
soap from then, Jonesy?

Stables.

How about Leamington's riding school?

Of course.

And the gunshot residue on his hands?

Patchett's place, exactly.

Center for Rural Pursuits.

So Mr. Hopkirk parks here.

Then he goes to Jubb's Field, where
he's spotted by Dora and Otis.

Then he walks to Rose Southerly's
for his cake.

Leaves there at 12.30.

He walks to the woodman, has
a drink, goes to the

village shop, leaves there
about 1 o'clock, and goes

riding with Ginny Leamington and
shooting at the Patchetts.

Not a bad day, one way and another.

Till he had his stroke.

Then he got himself stabbed.

Not many people would fit that into
a lifetime, never mind a day.

I'm supposed to be meeting this friend
of my uncle's at the woodman.

I'm going to drop in on the hunting,
shooting, and fishing set.

Uncle Harry says you had a friend who
used to work at Job's Timberyard.

Yep, yep.

Had a few mates, used
to work at Job's.

The one I was thinking
of is called Johnny.

It's a funny old point, that is.

Would you like something else?

Drop a scotch, it'd help me go down.

♪

Help!

SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!

For God's sake,

Help!

All right.

Hold on.

Don't move.

What the hell are you doing there?

-Sorry!
-God bless!

I say, I'm supposed to rescue her.

What's going on here?

Who is this?

I am Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby from Causton CID.

Policeman?

What's the meaning of this?

And this is her husband.

Husband.

Sir Charles, wait!

Mr. Patchett!

Stay where you are.

We need a little chat.

So you're made to work at Jubb's.

Johnny's someone.

Yep, yep.

Johnny used to work at Jubb's.

Can you remember his surname?

What was his surname?

Oh, yeah, his surname, uh, his

name was, uh, uh, Crouch.

Yep, Johnny Crouch.

Johnny Crouch.

Is that who Hopkirk was asking after?

Sorry?

Doesn't ring a bell.

Where does he live?

Badger's Drift, I reckon.

Ah, Johnny Crouch.

Miserable old git.

Never put his hair in his pocket.

That's Mr. Saunders.

Yes, that's Saunders.

Comes here for a spot of shooting.

His real name was Frank Hopkirk.

Was his body that was found
on Jubb's Field.

No.

We had no idea, I swear.

But he was here that day, wasn't he?

Oh, look, you can come with me to Causton
Police Station if you like.

I can answer a few questions
on fake man traps.

Yes, he was here.

Thank you.

What time exactly?

He got here about 1.30 and
left just before 3.

And you were here, were you, Mr. Batchett,
with your telephoto lens?

I was, um, supervising
the session, yes.

And did that session include the
use of a fake man trap too?

I know what you must think
of us, Inspector.

You do?

Most of our courses are
genuine, you know,

but some involve a little
harmless role playing.

Needs must, Inspector.

I was an accountant, but something went
a little bit wrong with my company.

Most of them went to prison, actually.

So we needed to start again.

In order to survive, it's actually

brought us closer together,
hasn't it, Barney?

Jeremy never thought working from
home could be such fun.

♪

♪

I'm working as fast as I can.

Good afternoon, sir.

Oh.

Well, I wasn't really ready for
this, but what the heck.

Variety is the spice, right?

Where's Mrs. Lamington?

Oh, who needs her?

You can check my work.

I don't think you're going
to like it at all.

Time out, Mr Hunsaker.

Can I have a word, please,
Mrs. Lamington?

Can I have my wig back?

-Yes.
-I recognize him.

His name is Wilson, Peter Wilson.

Actually, his real name
was Frank Hopkirk.

He's the man whose body was
found on Job's Field.

Really?

Well, he was alive when he left here.

What time was that?

Well, he arrived about 3.

We went for a ride, did
a little jumping.

He must have left about 4.

Was he in rude health?

Yes.

A little tired, perhaps.

Coming!

I said I'm coming!

♪

♪

Yeah.

Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

I'm coming!

♪

♪

Hello, Dora.

Hello.

Dora, you remember you
saying something to

me about the men hanging
around your house?

Maybe.

What men were they, Dora?

Orlando Lamington, mostly.

And Danny, Otis's dad.

They both fancy your mum.

That's why they were fighting
at the village hall.

Losers.

You shouldn't spread stories, Dora.

They can hurt people.

Everybody thinks we tell lies
because we're kids.

But we don't.

We see everything.

It's all facts.

Like the Rev Seuss.

What about the Rev Seuss?

Ask her why she goes jogging
on Monday afternoons.

Monday afternoons?

It's when Gary Talbot
does his deliveries.

They're having a thing.

Fact.

Mummy wouldn't do anything like that.

She still loves Dad.

I know, Dora.

I know.

A kettle, Jones.

Yes, sir.

Wielded by an-year-old.

Yes.

As I was saying, the arsenic
in the topsoil is

supposed to come from this pesticide
they treat wood with.

But Johnny Crouch says the timber from
Jubs's was treated elsewhere.

They never kept much
pesticide on site,

and he's sure there was
never a big spillage.

That's Never Lane up there, isn't it?

Yes, sir.

Didn't the Reverend Suze tell us she jogs
there first thing every morning?

Yes, yeah, she did.

Well, I have it on fairly
good authority that

she went for a jog there
on Monday afternoon.

Now, why didn't she mention
that, I wonder?

Perhaps it slipped her mind.

Well, let's go and refresh
her memory, shall we?

But so what about this
pesticide business?

All in good time.

And lead us not into temptation,
for thine is the

kingdom, the power, and the
glory forever and ever.

Amen.

Amen.

I'd like a word, please, Vicar.

You've got a minute.

Mrs. Southerly?

Darling Rose has been sharing
some of her burden with me.

So important to talk things through
without being judged, I think.

I do so agree.

I was hoping that we could talk
through the fact that

you didn't tell us you went for
a jog on Monday afternoon.

Oh, God, I knew this would happen.

I'm sure God knows all about
it, but I don't.

Yes, I went for a run
Monday afternoon.

What time?

About 6.30.

I had to meet someone.

Who?

It was Gary Talbot, wasn't it?

Yes, I never intended it
to go this far, but...

But the flesh is weak.

Why didn't you tell us this?

Gary is a married man, Inspector.

Oh.

So you're doing this for Gary's sake?

Oh, that is very noble of you.

And Ginny Lamington's sake.

What's Ginny Lamington
got to do with this?

I was running down Nether Lane.

I'd arranged to meet Gary at 7.

The vans parked in the usual
place and we were

talking, that's all we do,
really, talk, when

suddenly we saw Ginny Lamington's horse
box in the middle of the lane.

It was Ginny Lamington with,
with someone else.

I couldn't see.

Perhaps it was her husband.

No.

Orlando was on train home.

He'd just phoned me about the meeting.

So I thought Ginny was doing
the same as you.

I thought it was best to keep
quiet for everybody's sake.

After all, it's got nothing to do
with that poor man who died.

That's it.

Hopkirk's body could have been in
Talbot's van or the horse box.

We got Gary Talbot's movements right.

He wouldn't have had time for loading
up dead bodies, would he?

The horse box, then.

So who was the mystery man
with Ginny Lamington?

Jones.

Stay here.

Bo Giles, he would have been appalled.

who made such a mess of things.

You must have a very low opinion
of me, Inspector.

Oh, I'm a policeman, Mrs. Southerly.

I leave the judging to someone else.

Vic has been a great help.

How I envy her serenity.

Yes, it's miraculous, isn't it?

Mrs. Southerly, someone
went to a great deal

of trouble to steal that knife
from your kitchen.

Someone who was determined
to incriminate you.

Who could have taken that
knife, do you think?

A friend, perhaps?

Someone you wouldn't suspect.

There was no one, just me and Dora.

Wait a minute.

Ginny Lamington came round.

She wanted to borrow a cookery book.

What time?

About half past five.

I thought it was odd. I was due to go
round to her house for a meeting.

She could have just phoned me.

Did you leave her alone
in the kitchen?

Yes.

Book was in the drawing room.

My god.

Why would she do such a thing?

Well, I believe that her husband was
paying you a lot of attention.

I begged Orlando to leave me alone.

Nothing happened between us.

You have to believe me, Inspector.

I believe you, Mrs. Southerly.

Jones.

♪

The strong arm of the law.

You gentlemen like to go for a ride?

I'm sure I can find you some
suitably docile animals.

No, thank you, Mrs. Lamington.

Just like to ask you a couple
of questions, if we may.

Fire away.

Last Monday, did you go to Rose

Southerly's house in the afternoon
around about 5.30?

No, I don't believe I did.

Mrs. Southerly says you did.

What are you doing?

Just wondered if you had CCTV set
up like Mrs. Southerly's.

Mrs. Southerly says you went round to
her house to borrow a cookbook.

Well, she's wrong.

Even the lovely Rose can
be wrong sometimes.

Do you mind?

Here we are.

Same kind of camera, too.

It's for security reasons.

We've had a lot of break-ins recently.

Mrs. Southerly is sure that
you went to her house.

Where's the monitor?

One at a time. Gentlemen, please,
I can't answer you both at once.

Rose, she's one of my best
friends, Inspector.

We're in and out of each other's
houses all the time.

How can you expect me to remember
what happened last Monday?

Well, you ought to, Mrs.
Lamington, because you

took one of Rose Southerly's
kitchen knives, didn't you?

What's in here?

You took one of Rose
Southerly's kitchen

knives and used it to stab Frank
Hopkirk, didn't you?

Mrs. Lamington.

Why?

What did Rose ever do to you?

She stole you

I'll show you.

I'll show you what happened.

I wasn't there when you died.

There's a recording.

You'll see what really happens.

Mrs. Remington, who was with you when
you took the body to Nether Lane?

It's not here.

He's taken it.

Who, Mrs. Lamington?

Sir.

Good fare, weak air.

Well, that's not yours,
is it, Mrs. Lamington?

No, yours, Mr. Lamington.

I know who wears a badge like that.

It's that copper dad He's
in a bit of a hurry

May I, Mr. Prickett?

I recognize this.

What happens on there, right,
it's not what it looks like.

I didn't kill him.

I swear.

I swear.

A bottle of Chardonnay, I think.

Thanks.

And, uh...

I think I'm going to give you
a bit of a telling-off.

Yes, please.

Dudley, it's Frank Hopkirk.

Look, I'm sorry, but I can't
go through with this.

I can't sign off the report.

There was no spillage at Jumsfield.

The findings are wildly inaccurate.

I've written a new report, and
I've taken more soil samples.

I'm going to make a public announcement
at the meeting tonight.

I don't care about the money.

I've had a change of heart.

Look, I'll see you there, Dudley.

Who are you?

Sorry, mate.

I can't eat this.

What's going on?

Where's Ginny? Ginny! The supermarket's
been given the go-ahead.

I said enough! You can't stop it now!

Get away from me, you stupid bitch!

Oh, gosh.

What are you talking about?

Daddy?

Oh.

Oh. Oh, bloody hell, Jenny.
I think he's dead.

Denny Piggott first, I think.

Ginny said she'd called the
emergency services.

She said it'd be better all round if I wasn't
there, so I went back to the pub.

What were you doing there
in the first place?

I'm not saying anything about that.

How did Hopkirk end up in
Jubbs Field, Danny?

You'll have to ask Ginny
that, won't you?

Oh, we will, Danny. We will.

But it looks pretty straightforward
to me.

You attacked Frank Hopkirk in a rage,
and he collapsed with a stroke.

He wasn't dead.

Well, you say that now, but
in the recording, you

said, and I quote, bloody hell,
Ginny, I think he's dead.

Well, he wasn't. How do you know if
you left the stables straightaway?

I just do. OK. But you didn't leave the
stables straightaway, did you, Danny?

Because you helped Ginny Lamington put
Frank Hopkirk into a horse box.

And later, you and Ginny
drove that horse box to

Nether Lane, and you dumped
the body on Jubbs Field.

OK, can we just wait?

All right.

Say I was on Jarvis Field for
the sake of argument.

What does that mean?

I mean, what are my prospects?

Well, that depends, Danny.

I mean, personally, I don't
think you killed

Frank Hopkirk, but then that's
just my opinion.

It's worthless.

It's no good unless you
tell me the truth.

All right, then.

I thought you was dead.

-Nothing.
-You try.

What am I, a doctor?

He looks dead to me, darling.

You better call the police.

No, no, no, no, no.

They can't find him here.

No, we'll get him out of
these clothes, put

him in the horse box, and
take him to Job's Field.

So that's what we did.

We left it till about seven, then drove
the horse box down near the lane.

It was hard, but we managed
to get onto the field.

We'd better split up.

I'll see you at the meeting.

Danny, come here.

Not a word.

Not a word to anyone.

I was going to wait till Ginny
had gone, then look inside

his bag, take anything that might
screw up the supermarket deal.

So I hid, and I was waiting
for Ginny to go.

Only if she didn't go, did she?

♪

♪

I can't move.

Help me.

Help me.

Terrible to watch.

I'm sick to my stomach.

So sick, Danny, that you waited
till Ginny Lamington left,

and then you ransacked Frank Hopkirk's
bag and his wallet.

Good fare was my ticket
out of Elverton.

I wasn't going to give
it up that easy.

It's all Rose Southerly's fault.

Everything in the garden
was lovely until her

and her husband arrived in
the village 10 years ago.

It's just that Orlando became infatuated
with her almost immediately.

And when Giles died,
it just got worse.

Orlando was always on hand to give poor
little darling little Rose advice.

Then Rose introduced myself and
Celia to some of her clients,

and the business took off in a big
way, so I saw even less Orlando.

I was bored and angry, so I started having
an affair with Danny Pickett.

I half hoped Orlando would
find out, actually.

But of course, he never
noticed a thing.

How did Danny find out
about the business?

I had too much to drink one
night and told him.

He used to come to the stable
sometimes and watch.

That's what he was doing
there that Monday.

So then the final insult, Inspector, was
when Danny started to pursue Rose.

I mean, to get at Orlando,
of course, men, you know.

Oh, yes, I really loathe
dear little Rose.

And when Frank Hopkirk
collapsed in the

stables, you saw an opportunity.

I knew what I was going
to do immediately.

Steal one of Rose's knives
and stab him with it.

to see how she felt being
accused of murder, to

see the smile wiped off that
simpering little face.

You know what really annoyed me was

that she wouldn't sleep
with either of them.

So she stole my husband,
and she stole my

lover, and she still kept
the moral high ground.

And that, Inspector, is enough
to drive anyone to murder.

So Goodford gets the land cheap
and they don't have to

pay anything clearing it up because
it isn't contaminated.

Great scam.

So you were right, Jones.

There was a conspiracy
over Jubb's field.

Well, if Ginny Lamington
hadn't been jealous of

Rose Southerly, nobody would
have been any the wiser.

Crime of passion, sir.

We were both right.

I'm very satisfied.

Sir!

Here's Hopkirk's phone, sir.

There'll be a record of the
call to Dudley Painter.

Oh, good.

Looking forward to talking
to Mr. Painter again.

Funnily enough, Rose Southerly
once asked me

if I'd like to help out
at the cookery school.

Doing what, exactly?

I'm not sure.

I wouldn't want to act out
that perfect wife stuff.

God knows I get enough
of that at home.

And I couldn't do Celia
Patchett's damsel

in distress act, so demeaning.

But Ginny Lamington's routine, dishing
out a bit of discipline.

That I could handle.

Really?

♪

♪

♪

♪

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