Original subtitles

Come on.

19.

20.

21.

Yeah.

22.

Yeah.

Phoebe!

23.

Loving it, boss.

Phoebe!

Phoebe, I know you're up there.

Bah, bloody woman!

I'll kill her.

I swear I'll bloody kill her.

How dare you!

Go home, Miranda.

You're only making things worse.

Miranda. You're trespassing.

- Oh, go away, you stupid man. - Please leave.

You're disturbing the guests.

Touch her again and I'm going to give you such a hammering.

Get off my property now.

Both of you!

Your property?

Ha!

Come on, let's get you home.

One of these things, Lukey boy, you're gonna push me too far.

Oh yeah?

Oh yeah?

Oh yeah, you want some, do ya?

Hey-- hey!

Come on!

Come on!

Oh, go-- go on then. Walk away.

Ha ha ha.

Walk away.

Madness.

Checking in for a detox, and you're inhaling cheeseburgers.

Let's talk about the four bottles of wine you

necked last night, shall we?

It was three, actually.

Leave it.

Oh my god.

Come on.

A-- are you-- are you all right, Mrs. Pottinger?

Thought you we're gonna do something about those two!

Go home.

Take your filthy money and go home.

I am, Mrs. Pottinger.

Don't you worry.

I am.

I'm upstairs.

How's it going?

Not bad.

What have you been up to?

Oh, nothing much.

- What is it, Carter? - Come here.

Look.

Nightmare woman.

I reckon nightmare woman is in for a bit of a surprise.

What have you done?

"Your tranquility is ours."

What does that mean?

We're about to have a de-stressing weekend.

It isn't going to work if you keep complaining.

I do not need de-stressing.

Get!

Get back here!

Get back here!

Hey!

Go on!

Come on, come on!

Whoa.

Careful!

Would you watch where you're going?

Likewise!

Go away.

There's nothing for you here.

They'll steal your money and ruin your health.

Just go away before it's too late.

What was that about?

I do not know.

But I'm feeling calmer already.

You'll be fine, Mrs. Pottinger.

Have they-- have they gone yet?

It's all right, Mrs. Pottinger.

There aren't any sheep here.

Since when were you allergic to sheep anyway?

Are you still here?

Charming.

Can I have a little something to calm my nerves?

I recommend a gentle massage followed by a nap.

She's gonna live.

I'm off to play golf.

Put you up Monday, dearest.

Just go, will ya?

Ah, w-- we are terribly sorry, Mrs. Pottinger.

It won't happen again.

It had better not.

My heart.

It's going like a train.

That is down to Carter Smith and your chum, Miranda.

I'll talk to her, Luke.

And what good will that do?

New arrivals.

Last chance, Phoebe.

Sort her out, or I will.

Good afternoon.

Welcome to Swaveley.

Boss.

Boss.

Can I have a word, boss?

Why are you wearing those?

I walked into a door.

Perfect.

It's something I heard in the pub.

Wonderful.

This is pure gold, boss.

Straight from the horse's mouth.

Well, go on then.

Amaze me.

It's about Miranda.

What about Miranda?

We had a bit of a problem with some escaped sheep.

Yes, we noticed.

One of the delights of country life.

Well, The room is lovely.

Good, good.

Well, uh, once you've settled in, you'll see Dr. Danby.

He's our resident doctor.

He'll help you plan your treatment schedule.

Any problems, anything you need, just-- just ask.

- Thank you. - Thanks.

We're so looking forward to it.

Good, good.

Pressure point massage with Himalayan herbs.

Sounds good.

What's wrong with your arm?

Massages.

Himalayan herbs.

It's not my thing, really, Joyce.

I know you're worried about the police medical.

I am not worried about my police medical.

Yes, you are.

I can tell.

I thought coming here would help.

Well, it doesn't.

Look, here's the deal.

We'll stay here tonight.

Have one treatment tomorrow.

And if you still don't like it, then we can go home.

Deal?

Deal.

What do you want to do on your birthday?

My birthday is ages away.

It's the week after next.

Don't want to do anything on my birthday.

Tom.

What is it?

Something's bugging you.

Nothing is bugging me, Joyce!

I feel fine.

Never better.

Sheep!

Come on, there's only one way they could have got in there.

Ah, speak of the devil.

Hello, Phoebe.

You all right?

N-- no, not all right.

Very much not all right, thanks to you.

Me?

The sheep, Carter.

What sheep?

The sheep in the Garden of Contemplation!

We used to call it the kitchen garden.

We used to grow vegetables there, remember?

Well, it's been lovely chatting to you ladies,

but I'm afraid I must leave you.

Oh, going home to the wife and kids?

Yeah, as it happens.

Toodle pip.

Never mind sheep.

What about this?

A letter from some lawyer telling me I

have no right of access to my own house!

That was Luke's doing, not mine.

Don't pass the buck.

Well, what do you expect when you're

intent on trying to sabotage everything I'm doing here?

Oh, don't make it sound as if you're embarking

on some noble enterprise.

It was paradise here till you mucked it up.

You and what's his name. - Luke.

His name's Luke.

Trying to force me out of my own home.

Nobody is trying to force you out of your home.

Your husband is.

I just want some peace so that I can write.

Oh, the famous novel.

30 years and still not finished.

Why?

Because it doesn't exist, Miranda.

It's a fantasy.

You're my oldest friend, Phoebe.

So listen to me, then.

You're right.

Luke does want you out of here.

And so far, I've managed to rein him in.

But if you don't stop the interfering

and the childish pranks--

well.

And keep Carter Smith off the premises.

He frightened Kitty Pottinger half to death with those sheep.

And we don't want her dropping dead, do we?

Not until Luke's got hold of her money, anyway.

So you've, uh, got a police medical coming up.

Yes, next week.

The word is they're looking to shed a few senior officers.

Early retirement, so on.

You wouldn't consider-- - Who, me?

No, no.

I'm in perfect health.

I've been seeing my GP for, oh, years.

Glad to hear it.

Though your blood pressure is a little high.

Is it?

Well, just a tad.

Nothing to get unduly concerned about.

But if they were looking for a reason to retire you--

you could take medication to break it down.

But they're bound to ask you--

If you're on any medication.

Yeah.

Exactly.

I'd see your GP about it in the next few weeks.

In the meantime, I'm putting you on a meat-free, low salt diet.

And no alcohol, of course.

At all?

Get yourself a massage.

Eat, sleep, relax.

You'll probably sail through the medical.

Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Barnaby?

Yeah, um, I keep getting these twinges in my arms.

And in my legs.

They seem to, um, move around.

Twinges?

Yeah.

Ah, Mrs. Fox, you look absolutely delightful.

Joyce, what is this?

It's tofu casserole.

Bags of protein, and absolutely no cholesterol.

Excuse me.

Ah!

New arrivals, right?

Hiya.

I'm Kenny.

Got you on the tofu, I see.

Word to the wise.

Get thee down to Cricketers, my son.

Pub in the village.

Real ale on tap.

Best steak and chips this side of Calais.

That, Kenny, sounds very good.

I'm in trouble.

- Are you? - Mm.

I should've been playing golf, but my chum's put his back out.

Boss thought she'd got rid of me for the weekend.

What have you been doing?

- I've been talking to them. - Joyce.

You're supposed to be talking to me!

About my birthday.

Yes?

There's something, um, I want to tell you.

Don't spill all the--

You're such a clumsy oaf!

Unbelievable!

Mr. Pottinger, it's fine.

Don't worry, it-- it's absolutely--

I'll sort it out. It's absolutely fine.

You know I can't take you anywhere.

Oh, Kenny1 Just-- just get out of my sight.

Get out of my sight. - I'll deal with it.

It's all right.

Please, please-- let me do that.

Ah, Mrs. P--

Oh, tranquility.

How dare you walk out on me!

Where did that come from, Kenny?

I assumed you brought it.

Oh, you are such a liar!

Oh, have a drink, for crying out loud.

Well, I suppose I could start my detox tomorrow.

That's the spirit.

Salud y pesetas, my darling.

Hide the bottle, quick.

Hide the bottle, quick!

Hide it!

Oh.

Hello.

Oh!

You're going to be late for your treatment.

I'm going in the flotation chamber.

I've always wanted to try one of those.

And you're having the hot volcanic stone massage.

Oh god.

Remember our deal.

No going home until you've tried it.

I love that sound.

What sound?

The sound of you writing.

I'd better carry on then, hadn't I?

The water's 10 inches deep, and it's salinated,

so you'll have no trouble floating.

This is to support your head.

And we usually suggest an hour to get maximum benefit.

And we like to keep the lighting very low.

I could turn it up a little, if you like.

Nope.

Dark as possible for me.

No distractions.

Thank you.

Oh my god!

Help! Help!

Help!

First, I'll apply a thin layer of scented oil to your back.

Then I'll arrange the heated stones in line

with your chakras.

My what?

Your chakras?

Your energy centers.

Look-- um, sorry.

What's your name again?

Cloud.

Cloud.

There's nothing personal in this,

but I think I'll give the--

the hot stones a miss this time around.

Er, please don't go.

If you do you, I'll have to mark this session as incomplete.

Well, is that a problem?

Well, it means I won't get paid.

You could just, you know, sit and chill.

Got any Mozart?

Oh, I've got whale song.

Oh, no-- no thank you.

I could read your aura.

I'm sorry, my what?

I-- I can read auras.

Not everybody's, just some.

Yours is very confused.

It's probably because your chakras are unbalanced.

The crown chakra is the center of spiritual energy.

Yours is totally blocked.

Really?

You've got a birthday coming up.

Well, hasn't everybody?

This is really soon.

Like, in a week?

This birthday's really stressing you out.

I am not stressed.

It's something to do with your father.

What?

Mr. Barnaby.

Sorry, sorry.

Something terrible's happened.

Thank you, gents.

Are you going to be all right?

Yes.

Are you all right?

For a moment there, I thought that something

had happened to you.

Are you all right, Mrs. Barnaby?

I'm fine.

And now, I'm going to go and have a long, hot bath.

OK, the deceased's name is Kitty Pottinger.

Staying here with her husband Kenneth.

He's nowhere to be found, and their car is gone.

From the condition of the skin,

I'd say she'd been in the water six or seven hours.

Water is 10 inches deep, heavily salinated.

Still deep enough to drown.

So are we saying it's suspicious?

Well, the question is, was she dead before immersion?

There's no obvious signs of struggle.

I'll know more when I've opened her up, Tom.

Tom?

Sir?

Ah, yeah.

Well, I supposed I'd better get changed.

No hurry.

Strictly speaking, as you're off duty,

I'm the senior investigating officer, aren't I?

Yeah.

Yeah, I suppose you are.

Yeah, I'm--

I'm not serious, sir.

No, but it-- it is serious, Jones.

It's very serious.

It's a big responsibility, yeah?

Empty bottle of vodka.

A mobile.

There's a text on the mobile.

"I can't take it anymore.

You're on your own now, bitch.

Kenneth."

Received at 2:46 AM.

Nice.

Lots of women's clothes.

No men's.

Only one case.

Get a look in the bathroom?

There's no sign of a bloke in here.

Oh, hang on.

10 milligram temazepam.

Empty.

Kitty Pottinger's name on the label.

So what's next?

Well, you're the SIO.

Your call.

Right.

Well, I'll talk to the owner to see if they lock that flotation

place up at night.

Maybe you could talk to the resident doc,

see if he prescribed these.

Yes, sir.

Good.

Good!

Should've gone got that one.

Take 10 minutes.

Practice that serve, yeah?

I really can't discuss this, you know.

Oh yes, you can, Dr. Danby.

I'm here as a policeman now, not a guest.

Well.

The Pottingers were both fond of a drink.

Kenny in particular.

They used to come here to detox.

But Kenny'd crack after day or two

and go down to the pub in the local village.

We found an empty bottle of temazepam

with Kitty Pottinger's name on it.

Not prescribed by me, I might add.

No, no, you must speak to her GP about that.

Kenny was a serious drinker.

Kitty's tastes were more pharmaceutical.

Painkillers, sleeping pills, so on.

I did try and talk to her about it on more than one occasion.

Oh, well done, Mrs. Fox!

That really was first rate.

They're very well off, you know.

Made his money in property, I believe.

In fact, there was talk of kitty investing in this place.

Dr. Danby, I--

I think I've tweaked my hamstring again.

Oh well.

Duty calls.

Mrs. Fox!

Joyce!

Mhm?

Joyce.

You all right?

Yes, I'm fine.

Because if you're not, you know,

we can always pack up and go home.

Nice try, Tom.

But I'm undeterred.

I'm going to have the marine mud wrap next.

Well, if you're sure.

I'm sure.

Do you want to hear the gossip?

According to Florence, the girl who works in the flotation

room, the Archbolds are broke.

This place is within days of closing.

Kenny and Kitty Pottinger. Well to do.

No kids.

Big house in Midsomer market.

Holiday home in Spain.

No one's answering the phone either.

Witnesses saw them have a set to in the dining room last night.

Yes, me included.

And I heard a car leaving in the middle of the night.

That, presumably, was Kenneth Pottinger.

2:32 AM.

Would you care to write that down, Jones?

Yeah, that was 10 minutes before he dumped her by text.

They're famous for their fights, apparently.

Particularly after a few drinks.

So Kenneth Pottinger gets back from the pub drunk.

They argue over dinner.

Go back to the room, hit the vodka.

Fight gets worse.

He stormed off.

She finishes off her pills.

And heads off to the flotation room.

It was her favorite thing, apparently.

Oh.

There's Luke Archbold.

I haven't spoken to him yet.

Can you have a word with him, sir?

I'm still trying to get everyone's

movements from last night.

Of course.

Ah, if I were SIO, Jones, I'd be looking for Kenneth Pottinger.

I'm on it, sir.

Well, come-- well, come on!

I want this cleaned up by lunchtime.

Mr. Archbold.

Tommy.

How do a flock of sheep get in here by accident?

I--

Well, they don't.

They were put here.

Sabotage.

My god, how we hate success in this country!

You know, you know, no wonder-- no wonder it's going down

the path-- morning, morning.

Lovely day.

We-- we can't bear to see someone being successful,

can we?

Gotta knock them when they're down.

Can I talk to you about the Pottingers, please?

Ah, The flotation center was locked at 8:00 PM sharp.

Guests are warned in no uncertain terms

about using facilities unsupervised, sir.

So if you're thinking of throwing the old health

and safety book at me, you've--

Health and safety is not my concern, Mr. Archbold.

How and why Kitty Pottinger died is.

What?

Y-- y-- you're not--

well, you're not saying she was murdered, are you?

Please, please for God's sake, don't go spreading that around.

That's the last thing we need.

Got any idea where Kenny Pottinger might have gone?

One of his golfing buddies, probably.

That's where he usually goes on these occasions.

Oh, he's walked off on her before, has he?

God, yeah.

But he's normally back the next day

with his tail between his legs.

He-- Kenny can't cross the road without Kitty holding his hand.

Oh, great.

That's what we need. Hey!

Hey!

Oi!

Hang on!

Look.

Look.

I've told you before.

You are not allowed on the property.

He's on my property.

Actually, he's not, as I believe my solicitor has informed you.

You have no right of way here.

So how am I supposed to get in and out of my own house?

Not my problem.

And you.

You should be aware that this man is a police officer.

And I am going to make an official complaint

to him regarding your persistent trespassing.

Not to mention the sheep infestation.

That's a long word, Lukey boy.

Which I will be able to prove was down to you.

And how are you going to do that?

Check the sheep for my fingerprints?

Why not?

They're on everything else around here.

Aren't they, Miranda?

Hey, get off!

Get off me!

Get off me!

Get off!

You're my witness, Barnaby.

He assaulted me.

I-- I insist you arrest him immediately!

Walk away, Mr. Archbold. Walk away.

Assault. Assault and battery.

I'm going to make a complaint.

Clock's ticking, Archbold.

You're finished here.

Ahem.

Luke Archbold has found some loophole in the deeds

whereby I can't use the drive of my own house.

Oh, so that's the reason for the bad feeling between you,

is it?

Tip of the iceberg, my friend.

Phoebe inherited heard of the manor 30 years ago.

It was the family home.

She loved the place, but she was broke,

and she couldn't afford to live here.

I had money in those days, so I bought the Red House,

which meant she could stay on.

I never thought about rights of way.

We were friends.

Why would we?

"Were"?

Everything changed when she met Luke Archbold.

It was his idea to turn this place into a circus.

And what is your role in all this, Mr.--

Oh, I mow the lawn.

Help with the shopping.

Mainly I read.

Carter works for me.

He used to work for Phoebe, too.

Luke put an end to that.

Like asking questions, don't ya?

Well, sir, you may not have heard,

but, um, a guest died at the manor last night.

Who?

Kitty Pottinger.

How awful.

No wonder Lukey boy's in a bad mood.

Another gravy train missed.

That's enough, Carter.

What happened?

We don't know yet.

So did, uh-- did either of you see

or hear anything last night?

Not me.

I live in the village.

No, I was working.

Then I'm oblivious to everything.

What sort of work would that be, Ms. Bedford?

I'm a writer.

Ms. Bedford is writing a novel.

It's her life's work.

30 years, in fact. - 30 years?

Must be a long novel.

Well, that level of dedication is a rare and beautiful thing

these days, wouldn't you say?

Well, it is to me, but what do I know?

I mow the lawn.

Oh, I think there's a lot more to you than that, sir.

Including your temper, which, if I may say so, you should curb.

I won't even ask about the, um, sheep infestation.

So I just need to check where everyone was.

OK.

So let's start at 8:00 PM.

Oh, hang on.

Sir!

Sir!

Cloud?

Cloud?

I'm sorry to disturb you.

Give me a minute?

I was just thinking about Kitty Pottinger.

So sad.

She was such a lovely lady.

Was she a client of yours?

Oh, yes.

I read her aura the first time she came here.

I could see it so clearly.

Hm.

Cloud.

When you were reading my aura, you

said something about my father.

I-- I can't talk about that now.

There's too much negative energy flying around.

Tomorrow, OK?

Ugh.

It's still locked.

Hello?

Hello?

It's been closed all day!

Joyce?

Joyce, it's about my--

-birthday.

I've been trying to tell you something,

but it's so difficult finding a quiet moment

in a place like this.

I-- I-- I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

No complaints, I'm sorry.

Joyce, this is all about my father.

It-- it may sound strange, but bear with me, please.

You're not supposed to be in here, sir.

Hello, Tom.

Are you disturbing Mrs. Fox?

Oh, I'm so terribly sorry.

I can book you a session, if you want.

No, no! Erm.

No, um. - So sorry.

I'll speak to you later.

Sorry.

Good morning to you, sir.

Good morning to you.

What'll it be?

Well, what do you recommend?

You have the look, sir, of an escapee from the manor spa.

Yeah, well, that's exactly what I am.

Then I advise a pint of Old Curmudgeon.

5.1 ABV.

And it'll bring down a soya bean at 200 yards.

Well, that sounds perfect.

And if you're peckish, we do retox menu.

Oh, thank you.

Well.

Don't mind me.

My day off.

Oh, why not.

You only live once.

Good man.

What do you want?

Let me in, for God's sake.

If Luke sees me here, he'll kill me.

You all right?

Yes.

No. God no.

I'm-- I'm-- I'm not all right.

I'm-- I'm worried about the situation.

You're worried?

That's good.

All right, I'm frightened.

I'm-- I'm frightened the Carter's going to do something.

Like what?

Come on.

Carter's got a temper.

He's violent, for God's sake.

He attacked Luke earlier today.

No, Luke attacked Carter.

And Carter beat up Julian outside the Cricketers.

They were drunk!

It was handbags at 20 paces.

Carter threatened to kill Luke!

Oh, nonsense.

I was there.

I heard him.

Carter's clever.

He only lets you see one side of him.

You don't know what he's really like.

Funny.

I could say exactly the same thing about Luke.

I wish Magnus was still alive.

So do I, Phoebs.

You haven't called me that in ages.

Haven't I?

- Maybe we c-- - Maybe we could what?

Nothing. It doesn't matter.

I'm just being silly.

I think-- I think I'd better go.

Now, Magnus, Phoebe's first husband.

He was a nice feller, he was.

This was before your time, Julian.

Before they turned the manor into a spa.

Magnus w-- would you do another, sir?

Mm!

Magnus worked in the city.

Worked too hard, I reckon, because he dropped dead,

what, five years ago?

Not long after that, Luke Archbold came on the scene.

Caught Phoebe on the rebound.

Ah, caught her money on the rebound, you mean.

Maybe.

Ah.

Afternoon, Carter. The usual?

Please, Clarky.

Funny smell in here, all of a sudden.

How's the eye, Julian?

Now, then, you two.

Any more aggravation, I'm barring both of you.

That's all right, Clarky. I'm going outside.

Bring my pint out, would you?

Right out.

I'm off anyway.

Thanks, Julian.

Very nice.

They had a bit of a set-to the car park the other night.

He's a good bloke, Carter, but, oh, he's got a temper on him.

I'll take that to him.

Thank you very much, sir.

Thank you.

Mr. Smith, may I join you?

I brought your beer.

Right after you.

There you go.

Another good book?

Yeah.

Dostoevsky.

The governor.

Fourth time I read this.

Tolstoy.

He was a great writer, no question.

But Dostoevsky came from the dark side, he did.

And what about you, Mr. Smith?

Do you come from the, uh, the dark side?

Me?

No.

I'm a lightweight.

Well, yeah, I suppose you are, aren't you?

Because, uh, sheep rustling and fist

fights in pub car parks, not exactly the stuff

of Russian literature.

You've seen worse, right?

I have seen worse.

I have poked around on the dark side.

Maybe did too much.

Maybe you should jack it in.

Sit in the sun with a good book.

Mr. Smith.

When I told you about Kitty Pottinger,

you said something about Luke Archbold

missing another gravy train.

What did you mean by that?

She was rich and unhappy.

Perfect for Luke Archbold.

A lamb to the slaughter.

If you forgive of the sheep reference.

Heh.

Phoebe Archbold.

Was she a lamb to the slaughter?

I reckon so.

Recently widowed.

Kids grown up and leaving home.

And then along comes laughing boy Luke.

Four years later, shazam.

Her lovely home is full of rich people in dressing gowns,

snapping their fingers at her.

Lovely day.

Shh!

You're not supposed to talk here.

Sorry.

Can I smell beer?

What, in this lovely place?

Surely not.

You've been to that pub.

I have been making inquiries.

And having lunch.

You had steak and chips!

Sorry.

What are you doing?

Meditating.

Try it.

Close your eyes.

Concentrate on your breathing.

And try to empty your mind.

Shh!

26.

27.

28.

29.

Barnaby.

On my way.

What is it?

Something terrible just happened.

Again.

Oh.

God.

When I woke up this morning, and he--

he still wasn't there.

Is there anything we can do?

Oh, no. Thank you.

Florence is looking after me.

We can talk later.

I'll be back in one sec.

Wait!

It's probably not important, but--

No, no, go on.

Mrs. Archbold told me that she--

well, she was worried that Carter Smith was going to--

to do something to Mr. Archbold.

She went to see Miss Bedford yesterday to talk about it.

I don't know what happened, but she

was really upset afterwards.

Just thought I ought to tell you because, well,

she probably won't.

That's good.

That's right-- right that you should tell me.

Thank you.

I've contacted the manufacturers.

They're sending someone down who knows about these things.

So we can see whether it's been tampered with or not.

I've got to talk to, uh, Mr. Universe.

He runs the gym.

Do you want to come?

They're gonna blame me, aren't they?

Why, Julian?

Because I'm supposed to look after the equipment.

I told Mr. Ray, you should get a proper person to look after it

now Carter's not working here.

Carter Smith?

Yeah, he used to do the maintenance.

He's good with stuff like that.

I'm not a technology person.

I'm a people person.

That's what a trainer needs.

People skills.

They'll close this place down now, won't they?

Mrs. Archbold say anything about closing it down?

No, Julian.

No, she didn't.

If they do, I'll have to go back to Nuneaton.

Julian, excuse me.

Oh.

Nice.

Carter Smith give you that?

Might have done.

What as the fight about?

We were arguing about Loony Miranda.

What about Loony Miranda?

About her and her famous book.

I made a joke, that's all.

Now, Julian.

I'm going to have to talk to you again.

Oh, don't worry.

I'm not going back to Nuneaton. Not until I have to.

Didn't you say Carter had a go at Luke Archbold yesterday?

Yes, he flies off the handle all too easily.

And he's set on Luke Archbold before.

There's the dispute of the right of way, sir.

It wouldn't be the first time we've since someone

murdered over one of those.

And Carter knows his way around the equipment in the gym.

Look, I think there's more to this than a dispute

over a right of way.

Like what?

Well, I'm interested in the fight

over Miranda Bedford's book.

Now, what's that go to do with anything?

Any sign of Kenny Pottinger yet?

No.

He goes off on these benders, comes back

a couple of days later with his tail between his legs.

Have you sorted out everyone's movements for that night?

Er, not quite.

What?

Well, it's difficult.

Because?

Because--

Because we're going to need exactly the same thing

for last night, aren't we?

Yes.

Yes.

You're the SIO, Jones.

Right.

You're sure you're going to be all right?

Yeah.

I'll catch you later, then.

Take care.

What's the matter with Mrs. Fox?

Well, She's upset about Luke Archbold, obviously.

Why obviously?

Because she's obviously got a bit of a thing about him.

I thought policemen we're supposed to be observant.

Well, I've got other things on my mind, Joyce.

I guess our stay over.

Oh, yes.

I'm sorry, Joyce.

No I'm the one that's sorry.

I bring you away for de-stressing weekend,

and people start dropping like flies.

I'll go and pack.

Oh, Tom.

Mrs. Fox said you were talking to her about your father.

You know, when you thought she was me.

What was that about?

Oh it was-- it was nothing.

Nothing much.

Look, I'll tell you about it later.

I'm not going to put on the show of mock-grief,

because I couldn't stand the man.

I'm sorry for Phoebe, though.

Where's Carter?

No idea.

Not his keeper.

Despite what everybody says, my relationship with Carter Smith

is strictly platonic.

That means we're just good friends.

Yes, I know what it means.

We talk about books.

Your book?

Of course.

Oh, happy times, by the look of things.

Yes, they were.

You talk to Phoebe about your book?

I used to, yes.

Until Luke came on the scene.

Then everything changed.

Ah, guess.

Phoebe married Luke Archibald.

And you-- you took up with Carter Smith.

I did not take up with him.

I employed him.

Anyway, the two events are completely unrelated.

Are they really?

What exactly is it that you want?

Phoebe Archbold came to see you yesterday afternoon,

didn't she?

Yes.

So?

Did she talk about Carter threatening Luke?

That's all such nonsense.

Is it?

I heard Carter Smith yesterday say to Luke,

your days are numbered.

He met here.

At the manor. They're broke.

Didn't you know?

The spa is a failure.

Oh, well, the way I see, that-- that's a cause

for celebration, isn't it?

I mean, now you can get on with your book

without any interruptions.

My god.

You don't think that Carter and I had anything to do

with Luke's death, do you?

Excuse me.

George?

Yes, thank you.

I'm on my way.

We'll talk again.

Not if I can help it.

Just go, would you? I have work to do.

It's me.

What the hell have you been up to?

There are no post- or antemortem injuries.

There was foam in the airways.

The lungs were overinflated and full liquid, all of which

would indicate death by drowning.

The lab report shows she'd ingested a considerable amount

of alcohol in benzodiazepine.

What are you saying, George?

I'm saying, Tom, I cannot, at this point, tell you whether

a death was accidental or not.

What about him?

Crush asphyxia due to chest compression, by the look of it.

I can be absolutely certain till I've finished.

And even then, with injuries like this,

it's hard to be definitive.

Oh, that's very useful. Thank you, George.

Don't mention it!

Sir.

Report on the empty vodka bottle.

Tell me.

No prints, not even a smudge.

It's been thoroughly cleaned.

Inside as well.

Inside?

Same with glasses.

What to know what I think?

Enlighten us, Benjamin.

It was rinsed out so we wouldn't

find traces of temazepam.

Kitty Pottinger was drinking vodka

spiked with her own medication.

Which makes Kenny Pottinger prime suspect.

He had the means, the opportunity, and the motive.

Well, sir?

Cheer up, Tom.

Looks like you might have a murder after all.

You off, Mrs. Barnaby?

Oh, yes.

Tom wants me out of here before I become a suspect.

I don't know, maybe it's me, but he doesn't seem himself.

Well, I think he is worried about the police medical.

Not that he'd ever admit it.

And then, of course, there's this place.

Yeah.

It's a tricky case.

Lots of unanswered questions.

Oh, I'm not talking about the body count.

I'm talking about all these new age stuff.

Oh.

He can't be doing with it.

Yeah.

What are you doing?

If you want to see something clearly,

you should look in the opposite direction.

It's zen think. - Ah.

Of course it is.

Shh.

There are dark spots on your aura.

You are very troubled.

It's to do with your father.

You've got a birthday coming up.

You'll be the same age as your father when he died.

Yes, this is it.

Your father died on his birthday,

and you're afraid that you'll die on yours.

How did you know that?

There's water.

What?

No.

It's gone.

No, wait-- you said something about water.

What was that? - You'll have to go.

We're supposed to be packing.

Mrs. Archbold is closing the spa.

Are you going to give me some money?

Sir.

Sir.

Sir?

What is it, Jones?

Enlighten me.

It's a compression plate.

And it's missing from the training machine.

It's vital, apparently.

Are you all right?

Look a bit peaky.

I'm absolutely fine.

Anything else?

Yes.

The receptionist tells me there's a set of keys missing.

Keys to where?

The whole place.

Everything.

Including the gym.

How about we turn over Carter Smith's place,

see what we find?

Miranda Bedford's, too, while we're at it.

Yeah, right.

Right.

I'll apply for the search warrants then?

Yeah, obviously.

Right.

Ah, no.

Jones.

Um, Kitty Pottinger's car.

What about it?

Uh, look for it around here.

Around here?

Yes, a, uh, two-mile radius.

I heard a car.

But Kenny Pottinger wasn't necessarily driving it.

I think someone wants us to believe that he fled the scene.

Then there's the, uh, the text message signed Kenneth.

Everyone calls him Kenny.

Yeah.

Whoever drove the car sent the text message.

You're thinking it was someone from here.

I'm thinking all kinds of things.

I'm sorry.

No.

No, it's all right.

Come in.

How are you?

Oh, well, I--

I feel like I'm in a bit of a dream, I suppose.

A very bad dream.

And on top of it all, we've had to tell the staff

that we're closing, that they don't have their jobs anymore.

And they've all been so wonderful.

This used to be the kitchen garden.

Miranda and I spent a lot of time in here.

My first husband, Magnus, worked away own business a lot.

I brought up the children.

Miranda wrote-- or talked about Writing.

And we worked in here together.

It was the happiest time of my life.

Ah.

Hello, Cully.

What a lovely surprise.

He said, without much conviction.

Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, it's been a hard day.

Jones.

What can I do for you?

Yeah, just a, um, couple of things that I

wanted to check with you.

Excuse us, ladies.

Oh, we'll get the search warrants tomorrow.

Yes, and?

Well.

The night Kitty Pottinger died, not everyone's account tallies.

Like Julian, the gym guy.

He was seen hanging around the Red House at 10:00 PM.

But he says he was with Luke Archbold.

Um, the Natasha Fox woman says she was in the room.

But a member of staff brought a tea, and said--

Go and double check.

Well, I can't double check with Luke Archbold

because he's brown bread. - Well, look, Jones.

I can't do everything for you, can I?

Any sign of Kenny Pottinger?

No, not as yet.

Or his car?

Working on it, sir.

We we're just planning your surprise birthday party, Dad.

You were what?

Joke.

Oh.

Have a glass of wine.

Oh, yes.

Yes, please.

- How's it going, Tom? - How's it going, Joyce?

Oh, it's going very well indeed.

Excellent.

Couldn't be better.

Cheers, love.

Keep them apart, separate.

It's the police.

Am I ever going to get any peace?

Mob-handed as well.

It's pathetic.

Don't lose it, Carter.

Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

I have a warrant to search the premises.

What exactly are you hoping to find?

This is a murder inquiry, Ms. Bedford.

I suppose I have no choice in the matter.

No, you don't.

Love to stay and watch the fun, Barnaby.

But you know how it is.

Things to do, people to see.

Mr. Smith.

Carter, don't.

Mr. Smith, I need a look inside your vehicle

before you go.

Please.

I said I need to look!

Ms. Bedford.

Shall we?

Key, please?

Oh, so the book really does exist.

Of course.

Beautiful handwriting.

Hilary.

Is she the-- the heroine?

She's the protagonist, yes.

And what happens to her?

As a matter of fact, she goes to prison.

For murder.

But she's innocent, of course.

Of course.

Oho.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah?

Sir.

Compression plate, identical to the one missing

from the machine that killed Luke Archbold.

Right.

So I sabotaged the equipment, then

hid the incriminating evidence in my truck.

Criminal mastermind, that's me.

Carter.

Sir.

What?

Aha.

A large bunch of keys.

Tanning studio.

Fitness suite.

Looks like these belong to the manor.

Do you recognize those keys?

No, of course I don't.

I do.

They were mine.

I, uh, I handed them back to Luke when he sacked me.

Well, unfortunately, he won't be able to confirm that,

will he?

A crude attempt to incriminate us, obviously.

Well, we'll discuss it at the station, shall we?

Carter Smith, Miranda Bedford, I'm arresting

you both on suspicion--

Wait.

Mr. Smith.

That fight you had with Julian outside the pub.

What about it?

That fight was all about Miranda's book, wasn't it?

Something like that.

Julian claimed that that book did not exist.

Am I right?

Sir.

Hang on, hang on.

Mr. Smith.

My memory is a-- a bit hazy.

I'd had a few drinks, hadn't I?

And he would never, ever discuss my work with anyone.

Would you, Carter?

Mr. Smith, if you do not cooperate with us,

I'll have you in and out of Causton nick on so many charges

your head will spin.

Assaulting a police officer, trespass.

And yes, sir, first degree murder.

All right, all right.

Yes.

Yes, I told Julian that I'd read the book.

And?

And I told him it was almost finished.

And I told him where Miranda kept the manuscript.

Oh, Carter.

I'm so sorry, but he got to me, didn't he?

Great lump can't even spell his own name.

What right has he got to have a go at you?

We're finished here.

Thank you.

Please, I-- I--

I'm so-- I'm so sorry.

They've got to be in the frame, sir.

Kitty Pottinger, Luke Archbold are dead.

They've got what they want.

The spa is finished.

Phoebe won't push this right of way business.

And--

And they leave vital bits of evidence lying

around from us to pick up.

How very thoughtful.

Murderers panic.

They do stupid things in the heat of the moment.

How many times have we seen that?

Jones.

Kitty Pottinger, Luke Archbold's murders

were premeditated, carefully planned.

Heat of the moment didn't come into it.

And what's all this stuff about Mrs. Bedford's book?

Jones.

Right.

Thank you.

Well, you were right about one thing.

Kenny Pottinger's car.

They found in a wood a couple of miles from here.

It's unlocked.

Keys in the ignition.

And mobile.

Open the boot.

Oh, golf.

Oh, of course.

What?

Kenny was supposed to be playing golf over the weekend.

It, uh, fell through at the last moment.

So whoever spiked the vodka thought that Kitty was

going to be there on her own.

So Kenny got doped as well?

Jones, you mentioned some discrepancies

in the witness statements. - Yeah.

Natasha Fox said she was in her room.

But there was no answer when room service called.

Er, she always some--

what's it?

Um, chamomile tea last thing.

- That all? - No.

Julian, the gym guy, he said he was

with Luke Archbold at 10:00 PM.

But Angela Danby saw him hanging around Miranda Bedford's place.

Angela who?

Danby. One of the therapists.

Hippy-dippy.

Calls herself Cloud.

Danby.

Danby-- isn't that the name of the doctor?

Yeah.

She's his daughter.

Oh, for crying out loud!

What?

Nothing.

You go and talk to Natasha Fox, see if she's lying.

I will go to speak to Julian Woodley.

Angela Danby!

Hello, Julian.

Mrs. Fox, a word.

Julian, this is a murder inquiry.

Let me tell you something.

If you lie to me, that makes you an accessory to murder.

If you weren't in your room that night, where were you?

Or perhaps a more formal interview

might jog your memory.

I was with Luke.

Luke Archbold?

Yes.

My husband.

I'm sorry?

My ex-husband.

He left me for Phoebe when my money ran out.

But he was coming back to me.

I was the one he really cared about.

Hold on.

Carter told me about Loony Miranda's book.

How it was almost finished.

Thousands of pages, all handwritten.

And how she keeps it in this old safe.

So I told Mr. A, and--

well, he wanted me to steal it.

He offered me a grand, but I wasn't going to do it.

I swear.

I would never have stolen anything.

I was just being helpful.

Excuse me.

Barnaby.

She's what?

Luke's ex.

The other night Kitty died, they were cavorting

in one of the vacant rooms.

But when she left, she saw something very interesting.

She saw Phoebe.

OK, listen.

This is what we're going to do.

What exactly is it you're looking for?

I just wanted a last look before we leave.

You're leaving?

Yes.

We're finished here.

As of today, we'll be running the investigation from phone

Causton Police Station.

You can start moving everyone out now, Jones.

Yes, sir.

Goodbye.

Mrs. Archbold, did your husband tell you about,

ah, Miranda Bedford's book?

Tell me what about the book?

That he was planning to steal it.

He was what?

This door has been locked for a couple days, hasn't it?

Yes.

Luke said there's a problem the sunbed.

Don't suppose you've got a key, have you?

Not on me.

What were you saying about Miranda's book?

Oh, nothing. It's, uh, something I heard.

Probably nonsense.

Sounds like it.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Archbold, for your help.

Would you excuse me a minute?

I've got a phone call.

Oh, of course, yes.

Ah, I'll be in the office if you need me.

Hm.

Please.

Help me. Help me.

Shh, shh.

Quiet.

No!

Please. Please.

It's all right, Mr. Pottinger.

You're safe now.

You're safe.

I didn't hit him hard enough, did I?

Set.

Once Kitty Pottinger had a controlling

interest in the manor, I knew I'd be out sooner or later.

Miranda as well.

The thought of that woman ruling the roost in my house!

And she would have ruled.

So you decided to kill her.

Yes.

I used to open a floatation chamber for her at all hours.

The VIP treatment for her ladyship, and so on.

One night, she was so out of it on booze and pills,

she could barely walk.

And I thought, all I have to do is

hold your head under the water for a minute or two.

When Luke told me she was going to invest in the spa,

I remembered that night.

But you needed Kenny out of the way.

Yes, but then his golfing weekend came up perfect.

I dissolved Kitty's temazepam in the vodka,

and I left it in that room.

I knew she wouldn't be able to resist.

Then I realized that Kenny hadn't gone.

I hurried back to the room to retrieve the vodka,

but it was too late.

They had already opened it.

Oh.

Hello.

Oh, uh, just-- just, uh, wondering

if there's anything you need?

Well, I might fancy a float later.

Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

She said that she might give me a call later.

Sure enough, she did.

Let's put this under your head.

Oh, that's nice.

OK, lovely.

All right, Mrs. Pottinger?

There was no sign of Kenny.

But I thought that it might still work.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

So I had to improvise.

Mr. Pottinger, you're disturbing the guests.

You're all wet.

It's nice.

You know, I've always had a little bit of a thing for you.

Well, that's lovely.

But not here.

A sunbed, eh?

Why don't you lie down?

Well!

This'll be a first.

Oh, no, no, no, wait!

Just let me-- just let me get these wet things off.

Why, you're full of surprises, you are, aren't ya?

Now, I had to finish Kitty off.

I was going back to deal with Kenny when I remembered

the damn vodka bottle.

I had to get that cleaned up.

But you'd been seen by Natasha Fox.

Yes, the ex-wife.

How perfect is that?

And when you went back to the tanning studio, Kenny

Pottinger wasn't there, was he?

No, so I panicked.

I drove Kenny's car to the wood.

I sent Kitty a text to her mobile,

but everything was unraveling.

I had to find Kenny.

Who was wandering the grounds,

severely concussed, full of booze and pills.

I got a torch and went looking for him.

He was by the pump house.

I-- I couldn't find a pulse.

I thought he was dead.

He's a big man.

It took me an age to get him inside.

And when Luke told you he was planning to steal Miranda's

manuscript to destroy her life's work

and so finally be rid of her--

Oh my god, yes.

Well, that's when I realized that Luke had to go, too.

I was in the gym one day when Carter explained to Luke

how the machine might go wrong if it

wasn't properly maintained.

That's what I got the idea.

And it was easy to plant the evidence.

Too easy.

It's funny.

I could say exactly the same thing about Luke.

I hoped you'd think Carter had left the keys at the Red House.

I-- I didn't mean to involve Miranda.

I wish Magnus was still alive.

So do I, Phoebs.

When Luke told me that Miranda's

book actually existed, I felt so guilty for doubting her.

I wanted to look after her.

Do you understand?

That's what I'd always done.

When we were happy.

When everyone was happy.

I'm so, so sorry.

I should have had more faith.

When Luke said that he was going to steal the manuscript--

It wouldn't have mattered if he had.

Carter get any new pages photocopied every day.

Does he?

Of course.

And I finished it a year ago.

I've just been tweaking bits since then.

The book's been sold, Phoebs.

For pots of money.

But Carter told Julian that he--

Carter tends to dramatize.

He reads too much.

I just wanted everything to go back to how it was before.

It will.

However long it takes.

I'll be here.

What's the book about?

Us.

I've got a loose end to tie up.

Toodle-pip.

Hello, Angela.

The spa is closed.

We're not doing any more treatments.

Oh, what a shame.

Yes.

It is.

No, I-- I mean a shame for you and your father.

That's quite a double act you've got going there, eh?

I don't know what you mean.

Do you not?

When the clients sign in to this place,

they're given the once over by your father

when they're, um, vulnerable.

And they tell him things they probably wouldn't even

tell their own GP.

I know I did.

And that, Ms. Danby, is how you knew about my father.

Sit down.

Sit.

Down.

He died on his birthday.

Y-- well, yes, I told you fath--

Shh.

Near water.

A river-- no, no, a lake.

A big lake.

It was a beautiful, sunny day.

He was on his own when he died.

You weren't there.

Nobody was there.

You didn't tell my father that, did you?

No.

Joyce, do you remember the day my father died?

Of course I do.

And he'd asked me to go fishing with him.

It was something we always did together on his birthday

when I was a kid.

And then all those years later, he asked me again.

But we'd had one of our arguments.

And I was annoyed with him.

I was angry.

And I said no.

And you and I went off to have lunch.

You think that if you had gone with him that day--

I could have done something, yeah.

I think about that a lot.

Tom.

Your father died of a massive stroke.

You couldn't have done anything.

Well, you can say that.

But I feel guilty.

I really do.

And I'm very sad, because the last words

I ever said to my father--

they were not affectionate.

And then I got this-- this idea stuck in my head.

What idea?

The idea that I would die when I got to his age.

And sure enough, a few weeks ago I

feeling these aches and pains, headaches, god knows what.

Why on earth didn't you tell me?

Because, Joyce, it's ridiculous.

It is ridiculous.

It's irrational.

It's neurotic.

So you're human.

Just like the rest of us.

Yeah, it seems so.

Should I have a medical team on standby tomorrow?

Tomorrow?

Your birthday!

Oh.

No, you should not.

My twinges have gone, and I'm feeling fine.

Must have helped, passing that police medical.

Yeah.

Dad?

Tom, look.

Oh, God moves in mysterious ways.

Whoa!

Champagne!

And he passed his medical, too.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday, dear Tom.

Happy birthday to you.