Original subtitles

[music playing]

By 3:30 that afternoon, August 1st, 1644,

the fighting was over.

The battle of Aspen Tallow had been lost.

Royalist had fallen roundthe King like ripe corn.

But Jonathan Lowrie was not among the dead.

Now, this way please,and keep up, if you will.

Uh-- follow.

He had fought that day,bravely, for King and country,

paying dearly for the privilege.

But who would care?

He was a wealthy man,much in the King's favor,

and had few friends in thisrounded part of the world.

He made his way down this very lane,

and paused here, to gather strength

and draw water from the well.

[bike bell]

Stand aside, please.

I'm coming through.

Do mind the gradient, Miss Bunsall.

He drank and moved on.

Follow.

Follow.

[music playing]

When he reached this point, Cromwellian

thugs on the rampage caughtsight of him from yonder.

For the first time in hislife, Jonathan Lowrie ran.

Blood poured from a wound to hisleft shoulder, leaving a trail.

But on he pressed, until here before him stood

the family home, Aspen hall.

Afternoon.

And as he entered the great hall,

he called out to hiswife, Florence, Florence?

And as he reached thisspot, so a rounded musketeer

at the door shot him, dead.

And in accordance with his wish to be

buried where he fell that day, this

became his last resting place.

Though I know for afact, he is not at peace.

Well, you're not trying tosell us a ghosty, Mr. Bradford?

Why?

Don't you believe in such things?

Well, have you seen it?

Many have.

And before he walks abroad,he gives fair warning, tolling

the church bell mournfully.

We are blessed with afine portrait of Jonathan,

crafted at the height of his powers

by the artist, Robert Walker.

[music playing]

You're a police man, do something.

Who says justice is dead?

George Burton fell off the twig while being

interviewed about his book.

I gather you and George weren't close?

Yeah.

Last of a gang.

Hijacked four lorries in Dover, 985.

Nailed one of the drivers to a fence.

Oof, and they wrote a book about it?

That's all the rage, isn't it?

What time did Cully eventually get in?

2:00-ish.

They have got a favor to ask you.

They?

But dad, the lease onNico's flat has just run out.

I don't care.

He's not moving in.

What about the box room, Tom?

I mean, we could putyour stuff in the garage.

Stuff?

It's only for two weeks.

Why is it when I say I no, you both hear yes?

Oh, good morning, Nico.

There's something else.

There always is.

He's got a part in a soap opera.

Is it a speaking part?

It's a police drama.

I'm a Detective Sergeant.

Oh.

We were hoping you'd let him shadow

Gavin, see how it's done.

[laughs]

Suppose a nice, juicy murderis too much to hope for then?

The best I can offer is a vandalized painting

at Aspen Tallow Museum.

But so far, your Detective Sergeant

is absolutely believable.

Terrific.

Why?

You've observed rule number one, always

keep the Governor waiting.

[music playing]

Charlie, you've nearly finished.

Oh, I don't hang about.

Oh, it's perfect.

Oh, it's much better thanpokey attic in my house.

Oh.

Oh, careful, careful.

Ha, ha.

Oh, I never reallythanked you enough for doing

all that you've done for me,moving me in here with you.

Well, I'm glad it's all worked out.

And as for Monday morning,Sandra MacKillop-- paintings

restored, framed, cleaned--

you name it, she can do it.

Actually, uh--

I've had a phone callfrom Aspen Tallow Museum.

Allen Bradford wants me to do a job for him.

Tallow?

Well there is a portraithe wants me to repair.

He wants me to go downthere as soon as possible.

And what are you waiting for?

I was hoping that--

that you'd come with me.

Give me five minutes.

Morning, sir.

Yes, morning, Angel.

No wonder they broke in, sir--

fake alarm system, single mortise lock

on the door, windows thatdon't close properly.

Where's Sergeant Troy?

Inside, sir.

This way, sir.

Yes, thank you, Angel.

I can manage.

Right, sir.

Someone's had a go at this painting, sir.

Rule number two, always treat the boss

as if he's blind and stupid.

Troy, Nico will be followingyou around for a week.

What for, sir?

I'm Inspector Barnaby, and you are, sir?

ALAN: Alan Bradford, curator.

I'm surprised you've gotanything left to curate, Mr.

Bradford-- fake alarmsystem on the front wall,

single mortise lock on the door, windows

that won't shut properly.

Why don't you hang up a noticesaying please burglar me.

It's a question of the reddies inspector.

We're not everyone's idea of a fun day out.

Give it a go.

What that would mean then?

Tell me what happened here yesterday.

I was doing the JonathanLowrie death tour with half

a dozen or so punters.

Uh-- the portrait was fine when we left.

Hi, Alan.

Sorry.

Sandra, wonderful to see you.

Come on in.

Uh-- this is--

Inspector Barnaby.

That's DetectiveSergeant Troy behind you.

Hello.

Oh, um-- uh--

Sandra MacKillop I'm, uh--here to repair the painting.

MacKillop as in MacKillop software?

That's us. I'm Charles MacKillop.

I'm Sandra's brother-in-law.

SANDRA: And guardian angel.

GAVIN: Why do you need one, Mrs. MacKillop?

Uh-- well, m--

my husband died, uh-- last year, and um--

Sandra, you said it.

It's marvelous.

Brilliant.

Oh, uh--sorry, inspector.

Alan, Charlie is turninga room into a studio for me,

but it isn't quite finished.

Is it OK if I start work here?

It's marvelous.

I mean, we can rope you off,turn you into an exhibit.

Jonathan Lowrie,royalist, philanthropist,

classical scholar, all around excellent good.

Yes, 1591 to 1644.

How do you know?

It says so over there where he's buried.

Somebody really meant business.

Can you fix it?

CHARLES: Of course she can.

TOM: What did he look like,as a matter of interest?

We turned him into a postcard on here--

sold like hot cakes.

[music playing]

Are you all right?

Yes.

Yes.

When do I start?

There's nothing here for us, Troy.

File it under forget.

Did you notice the smell in there, sir?

Well, it's a museum, Troy.

It's full of stuff long past its sell by date.

Well, I did, Sergeant-- fish.

Your average villain's gone soft--

carving up paintings.

They'll be breaking the speedlimit next, or dropping litter.

You know, why choose that picture?

Why not one of the others?

And having broken in, why not nick something?

Have you got something againstjust having a quiet day, sir?

What's your opinion, Nico?

Me?

Oh, come man, you'll beendoing this for semi-real

in a couple of weeks time.

NICO: Well, maybe it's a grudgeagainst the Lowrie family.

Going back 350 years?

Never.

A man dies, his wife'sa picture restorer trying

to get back into the game.

Lo and behold, a portrait is damaged,

and she's called in to fix it.

Job creation, or is thatmy nasty suspicious mind?

Huh?

No comment, sir.

Have you got a comment on that?

Yeah.

Someone took a shortcut across the graveyard,

and it fell out of their shopping bag.

Short cut where?

The museum's a dead end.

Sir, two minutes ago, therewas nothing here for us.

Now the world turns on apacket of smoked mackerel.

Put it in the canteenfreezer, label it carefully,

or it will end up on the menu. - Look after this.

[music playing]

Morning, Jim

Morning.

Anything in the papers?

None of it worth reading?Come and sit down.

Tell me all the news from the village.

All the gossip, you mean.

Oh, all right.

Tell me all the gossip, and if there isn't any,

you can make some up.

Well, Michelle's had her baby, and he

certainly doesn't like anyone Iknow, least of all her husband.

They've called himLeonardo, after the actor.

And then there's the painting, of course.

That's got people going.

Yeah, what's the feeling about that?

Is it deliberate or casual,or a ghost from Alan's past?

Well, Kate's his favorite.

Where do you want me tostart today, Jim, up or down?

Why don't we start with coffee.

[music playing]

George Burton.

All things come to him that waits.

The book-- what book?

Basically, the job of a DS is to keep

a check on his Governor.

I mean, I'm lucky old Tom'sa good bloke to work for,

but he does look for troublewhere there isn't any.

He's also coming this way.

Troy, what do you think of Alan Bradford?

I've handed it back to uniform, sir.

I thought it was no further action.

No, I-- I want to show Nico how we work.

You know, the free exchange of ideas.

Bradford?

Over the top, easily rattled, born to carry

the can, otherwise harmless.

Nico?

Well, he's a bit theatrical,but, yeah, I agree with Gavin,

harmless.

Well I've got news for you both.

The excellent, wonderful, and marvelous

Mr. Bradford has got a record.

Sir, you said, Troy, thereis nothing here for us.

File it under forget.

And that was before wefound the smoked mackerel.

[music playing]

- Morning, ladies. - Morning.

What's all this?

A piece of local history, Jim.

A suit of armor taken fromthe battlefield in 1644.

The dead man's descendanthas sent it back to us,

all the way from Champagne, Illinois.

Well, I'll be damned.

How-- how is Sandra doing?

Marvelous.

Quite a hit.

In fact, I think we could build on this,

Jim-- open a craft section.

You know, real people, doing real things.

Come on.

Get your jacket, I'll buy youa pint, and talk you out of it.

[music playing]

[chair squeaking]

[screaming]

What's wrong?

I'm going outside--

I'll be all right.

I'm sorry.

I thought you said she was better?

CHARLES: Hey, how did it go?

It went well, yes.

Good.

Only a couple of things for you to sign.

Only take a minute.

Must be a nice place to work, the museum.

If you like ghosts, yes.

Not that old chestnut, surely.

I'm trying to be sensible,Charlie, but look at him.

Is it just me?

Oh, come on, Sandy, theset of the eyes, I grant you,

but there the similarity ends.

The nose, the chin, the way he's standing.

No, you're making too much of it.

In any case, even if he doeslook a bit like David, so What

So now you think he does?

Come on, let's go home.

I'll cook you something exotic.

Or would you rather talk itover with Linda Marquis first?

I mentioned to thispoliceman that David had died

and Alan Bradford was thrilled,just because I used the word.

And then it all came flooding back?

Yes.

And then he showed us this post card.

Now, I've known that portrait all my life,

but I've never made the connection.

Does it remind you of anyone?

Well, Yes, David, vaguely, I suppose.

Linda, Charlie says, no.

Which is it, for god's sake?

It doesn't matter.

The point is, it triggered yourmemory, not of the good times

that you and David had shared together,

but of the months of agony when you

couldn't accept his passing.

You forgot the 3D mantra that we worked out,

should his name be mentioned.

Can you say it for me now?

David delight departed.

Now, mean it, Sandra.

David delight departed.

LINDA: And again, with no doubt whatsoever.

David delight departed.

There are no ghosts in Aspen Tallow Museum,

not in paintings, in rockingchairs, or under stone slabs.

They're only in your mind.

[music playing]

[knocking]

Gentleman caller at this time of night.

That will give my neighborsomething to talk about.

Uh-- I won't keep you Annie, uh--

Don't be dull, Jim.

What can I get you?

No, I-- I just want to say this and I'll go.

Um-- I'm selling the cottage, Annie.

Well, what for?

Oh-- oh, it's a long story.

Well, for one reason or another,I missed out on certain things,

like, um--

a wife and family.

I regretted it.

Well, I'm-- I'm too old forkids, but not for a wife.

Good looking man, like you,Jim, you could take your pick.

I have done.

[bells]

Jonathan Lowrie?

You don't believe in ghosts, do you, Jim?

That will be the wind.

Those bells must weigh a ton.

Jim, you mustn't.

[music playing]

[gasps]

So what's it like?

The chap that I'm playing doesn't

have much to say for himself.

And his boss has masses.

Look at it-- on and on and on.

They got that bit right then.

NICO: Yes.

Except unlike Tom, this bloke doesn't see crime

with a capital k in every--

Morning, dad.

TOM: Morning, Cully.

Morning, Nico.

You were saying?

The difference betweenyou and the Chief Inspector

here, he's not nearly so--

so thorough.

Doesn't see a crime witha capital k in every packet

of smoked mackerel, is it?

Sorry.

You're sitting in my place.

Thank you.

Dad, it's for you--

Gavin.

It was just here.

I took a few steps forward, paused,

looked round, and whop--

fist to the face.

Did you see the owner of that fist?

Not really.

Dark hair, I think.

Dark features, dark clothes--

but it was dark.

Why were you here, in the first place?

I heard the church bell.

It's a sign Jonathan Lowrie's up and about.

And you came to meet him?

Of course not.

But someone was ringing the bell.

Who were they?

What did they want?

Mr. Date, you found him, yeah?

That's right.

And what were you doing here?

Bit of a party, was it?

Oh, we heard the same thing that Alan did,

so we came over to investigate.

I'm sorry, I don't thinkI've had the pleasure.

Anne Quarritch.

Ah, yes, you clean the museum, yeah?

And before you ask if I'veseen any dodgy characters

hanging around, no I haven't.

Mr. Bradford?

Two just now.

[music playing]

Things are warming up, Mr. Bradford.

First the painting, now this.

You think they're connected?

300 years of peace and quiet,then two crimes in two days,

of course they're connected.

We're pulling a crowd, sir.

Oh, god.

ELEANOR: Marcus, I didn't realize

you were so out of condition.

Take some deep breaths beforewe get down to business.

TOM: Can I help you?

Yes, you can chain my tricycle to that fence.

Oh, uh-- actually, thatwas a polite way of asking

you what are you doing here?

And we're police officers.

Really?

Well, then, you're theones who need help, not me.

Do let me know if I can be of any assistance.

That you can, with names.

What's yours?

I am Marcus Lowrie, Jonathan's great,

great, great, great, great,great, great, great, great

grandson.

Close were you?

What are you doing here, Mr. Lowrie?

The bell tolled in the middle of the night.

Jonathan is arisen, and wehave a question to ask him.

Well, tough.

The museum is closed and you can't go in.

Alan, dear, don't be peevish.

What would your mother say?

She'd say, leave me alone.

I've been dead for 10 years.

Dead is an un-word, as well you know.

Your mother is right here with us now,

and she says, don't be unkind to Eleanor.

Let her into the museum.

And I can hear my old mother too,

saying, don't let this lady come the old acid,

until you know who she is.

You're in the presence ofEleanor Bunsall, self-appointed

queen of Aspen Tallow.

What was the question youwanted to ask of Jonathan?

Is that any of your business?

Oh, please, indulge me.

I need to know what hedid with our families money.

I'm sorry?

It went missing shortly after he died.

We've scrimped and saved for300 years, but not anymore.

In that case, be my guest.

Thank you.

Jonathan Lowrie, I'mEleanor Margaret Bunsall.

What have you got to say for yourself?

Do you believe in lifeafter death, Mr. Bradford?

Of course not.

You told one of my colleagues,PC Angel, that you did.

That you'd seen this Jonathan Lowrie.

Strictly with the punters.

They love it.

Shh.

I know you are Jonathan, sodon't let's play silly games.

Yes, go on, speak to her.

Quiet, Marcus.

We need your help with thefamily silver, Jonathan.

Any ideas?

I know where it is.

Shh.

[sighs]

Oh, really, this is too much.

Noises off from you, Marcus,chattering in the stalls,

and now a late entrance.

Sandra, quickly, take a seat.

Sorry, Miss Bunsall.

Sorry.

MARCUS: He's here.

[music playing]

[dog whimpers]

Everybody out.

What is it now?

Fire extinguisher.

[yelling]

Come on.

Just when we were getting somewhere.

Hope it works.

Miss Bunsall, out now.

Stand clear.

It's under control.

Are you all right?

Yeah, just a bit of shock, that's all.

- Which way did she go? - Who?

Sandra MacKillop.

She's down there.

Troy?

Troy?

Who do you want?

Eleanor Bunsall or Alan Bradford.

Bradford, sir.

Good man.

Ask her how she started the fire.

Oh, it's--

Go on.

Mr. Bradford, word, if I may?

Would this be a good time tomention your criminal record?

Not if I have a choice in the matter, no.

You mean the Mr. Tate,chairman of the trustees,

doesn't know about yourpassion for valuable bronzes?

I didn't think he'd be interested.

I think he would be fascinated.

No, inspector, please?

But you stole a bust of Oliver Cromwell

from an auctioneer in Bristolvalued at $13,000 pounds.

Not for money, for love.

Oh, so it's the old crime of passion, is it?

Who was she?

Not that kind of love.

Love of one's subject, history, the Civil War,

Cromwell, our chief of men--

Mr. Barnaby wondered if you had any ideas on how

the fire started, Miss Bunsall?

Heat, Sergeant.

Yes, but did you have anything to do with it,

is what he meant, I think?

Do I look like a pyromaniac?

TOM: I'm not saying you'rethe Brinks Mat type,

but you did spend six monthsinside Rottingham jail.

Did you make any friendswhile you were there, or more

importantly, any enemies?

You mean, you think I'm a target, inspector?

Well someone doesn't like you, do they?

I mean, the painting, the nose.

Perhaps that's why they moved the packing case.

The packing case, inspector, it's

not where I left it last night.

Nico?

Sir?

I mean, yes, Tom?

Sir will do just fine.

The Marcus family silver,you say you know where it is?

Well, the inscription on the burial slab.

It's Greek.

Jonathan Lowrie,

[speaking greek]

Here lies Jonathan Lowrie andall his worldly goods, sir.

You tell Marcus?

He wanted to know.

Would this be a typical sort of day, Gavin?

Yep-- nutters, then more nutters.

[music playing]

Inspector, I gather you've had quite a day.

We certainly have.

I'll get you a drink.

Oh, please.

Why did you let old Miss Bunsall

loose in the museum, Inspector?

Professional curiosity, I suppose.

See, I don't believe in ghosts,just people with dark motives.

Is that how you explainthe burning packing cases?

At the moment, I don't explain it all.

What I can tell you is it was helped

along with a little paraffin.

Oh, hardly the work of a ghost.

It's not a joke, Charlie.

Something's going on in there.

Otherwise, why is Inspector Barnaby here?

Actually, I came to askyou, why did you rush away

in such a hurry this afternoon?

Is that a crime?

Sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I was frightened.

I was-- I needed to find Charlie.

I-- anything else?

Yes.

Why did Mr. Bradford chooseyou to repair the painting?

Because I'm the onlyrestorer within 30 miles.

It just seems odd that as you're

trying to get back into the swing of things,

someone wrecks a painting.

I resent that.

Resent what?

His implication.

Which is?

You saw what happenedthis afternoon, Inspector.

I'm in no mood--

Oh, come on, they-- theyhave to ask these things.

Well, I don't have to listen to--

Will she be all right?

The short term answer is yes.

As regards to the longterm, I really have no idea.

Why is she like she is?

When David, my brother, died, Sandra

couldn't believe it, literally.

She had a kind of a breakdown.

So I moved her in here with me and tried

to protect her, if you like.

From what?

Oh, you know, garden fence gossip.

David was the fittest man you'd ever meet.

Some people suggested hemight have taken his own life.

But he didn't?

No.

He wasn't the sort, Inspector.

You and he were business partners, yeah?

Yeah.

And he left quite a gap, I can tell you.

Sandra may have lost her husband,

but I lost somebody who meantmore to me than I realized.

Tell me about Eleanor Bunsall.

[scoffs]

Rider of broomsticks and minder

of other people's business.

Is she harmless, do you think?

So long as you don't listento the rubbish she talks.

Unfortunately, Sandra thinks the world of her.

[music playing]

Hello.

What's that, Jim.

Oh, it's a metal detector.

I want to put an article in the parish magazine,

there is no silver in Jonathan Lowrie's grave,

so don't waste your time digging it up.

I love this place, Annie.

I don't really want to leave it.

ANNE: Then why are you going?

No choice.

I'm going to France.

I've got a house there in the south.

It's miles off the beatentrack, but there's olive trees

for shade, vineyard for wines.

The sea is just a stone's throw.

What do you say?

- Me? - Think it over.

[beeping]

Sounds like I've just struck gold.

Buried treasure?

JAMES: Yes, you come toclaim your share, Inspector?

No.

My sergeant, here, is a verypractical man, as a rule.

But there's a tiny piece of him that's

willing to believe in ghosts and their ability

to set fire to packing cases.

Now, it's almost this time yesterday,

almost to the minute.

Troy, give me your hand.

Pardon?

Give me your hand.

Ooh.

That's how it happened.

Old glass, maybe 200 years old, uneven,

with a prism in it, which means--

what does that mean, Troy?

Whoever moved the packingcase knew this place very well.

Like a curator, or a trustee, or a cleaner.

The police think I cutthe portrait myself to get

the job of repairing of it.

I'm sure they don't.

And I must finish the job for Alan's sake.

For your own sake.

Well, yes, yes.

Yes, of course.

Is it a problem?

I-- I don't know where to doit, at home or at the museum.

Oh, I see, the museum hastaken on another dimension.

I keep thinking I see David standing over me,

that he's actually there.

Well, let's tackle that.

If you stay away from the museum,

your imagination will make that feeling worse.

If you go there, you can deal with it.

Do you feel the need to prove that you're

not actually going mad?

I need to see David.

That's what frightens me.

ANNE: All right, boys and girls,finish up what you're doing.

Time we moved on now.

If you'd just like to followme to the upstairs exhibit--

Sandy, I--

I need some rivets for this chap's gauntlet.

I'll be across, in my office, two minutes.

[door opening]

[music playing]

David?

David?

Is that you?

ALAN: Sandra?

Sandra?

Are you all right?

Oh.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

You were quite right tocall me in on this, Sandra.

Why didn't you do so earlier?

I should have.

I know.

I used to tell youeverything in the past, but--

Charles, isn't it?

Typical man-- thinks he'sthe only one who can help.

Well, even if he thinks he I'm going mad,

but he's too polite to say.

Madness is an un-word, dear.

It does not exist.

There are only varying degrees of sanity.

Yours and mine just happento be more varied than most.

Now, what can I do for you?

Well, all these strange thingsthat have been happening-- uh--

the portrait, the rockermoving, the bell, the fire--

people say it's Jonathan Lowrie, but I think

David's trying to reach me.

Well, we'll soon find out.

David?

What the devil is going on?

Out with it, man.

[music playing]

Bastards.

You stole it.

You stole my inheritance.

Give it to me.

Give it to me, I say.

No.

[groans]

[yelling]

Eleanor, no.

We are modern, Sandra.

We fear nothing.

Follow me.

[music playing]

Inspector, who hasdone this terrible thing?

I don't know, Mr. Bradford.

I've only just got here.

To think, I could be lying in there.

It's Marcus Lowrie, sir.

Came to dig up the family fortune,

but someone got there before him.

Only I don't mean there was a fortune, Tom--

pennies and a leather bag, though.

God, they've mad a mess of him, haven't they?

What with?

Corner of something solid and square.

He'd been hit six times.

But not with this?

No blood, and it doesn't match the dents.

Who reported it?

Eleanor Bunsall, sir.

Oh.

Break out the body armor, Troy.

[dog barks]

It's Lowrie's dog, sir.

We can't just leave him here.

Put him in the car.

Put him in the car.

Come on.

A security system, Mr. Tate.

I believe I did mention it.

I can hardly get it installed overnight.

Nevertheless, I'd like aproper chat with you, please,

sometime. - What for?

Well, you thought there was money in that grave,

didn't you?

Your metal detector told you as much.

You will need a statementfrom me as well, Inspector.

Why?

Did you kill him?

No, of course, I didn't.

Brilliant at making you feel guilty, isn't he?

GAVIN: Why pennies in the grave, sir?

TOM: For the ferryman, if you want.

NICO: This Jonathan Lowrie, Greek scholar,

he'd have taken somecoins to pay the ferryman

to row him over the river Styx.

Why didn't you know that, Troy?

Do a left here.

Rule number-- what are we up to now?

Uh-- seven, sir.

Rule number 7--

never use the indicator.

It keeps the other drivers on their toes.

Is that right, Troy?

What were you doing in the graveyard

at midnight, Miss Bunsall?

Is that any of your business?

Oh, indulge me, again.

Insomnia.

I often walk at night.

In a graveyard, alone?

I have so many friends there.

So there you are, chattingaway with a few old friends.

You hear Marcus scream.

You run inside.

And there he is dead.

Not dead, Inspector, merely murdered.

Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am, dead is an un-word.

Did you see anyone else?

Such as?

Well I had in mind his un-killer.

He must have still been there in the museum.

Oh, if I'd known that, I'd have stayed on,

had it out with them.

Of course, I'm very glad you didn't.

I was armed, Inspector.

Sir, this is CS gas.

Yes, I picked it up in France,at the World Cup, where it came

in very handy, I can tell you.

Miss Bunsall, it is illegal in this country,

and I'm confiscating it.

In that case, I shallrefuse to cooperate further.

TOM: It's too late.

You've already told us all we need to know,

except of course, who was with you last night.

My lips are sealed, inaccordance with my version

of the Hippocratic oath.

Oh, the Hippocratic oath, eh?

So you were there professionally?

Who with?

Any more questions, sensible ones?

Yes?

Does nothing die inyour world, Miss Bunsall,

you know, people, plants, animals?

You are smarter than you look, young man.

We are all part of an endless saga.

We fade, yes, but only to reappear

in ever brighter colors.

So you can talk to JonathanLowrie, the dickie birds, or--

or even a Christmas tree, just as

easily as you can talk to us?

More so, because they appreciate what I say.

TOM: Oh, right.

Well, thank you.

Thank you, Miss Bunsall.

Thanks for your time.

You're not going already, surely?

Why, is there somethingelse you want to tell us?

No, but he hasn't finished mending my puncture yet.

God spare me from little old ladies.

She's a cantankerous old bag,and daft as a bloody brush.

Oh, I don't know, Troy.

I rather like her.

Some of what she says does make sense.

I mean, we are all part of an eternal pageant.

If you say so, sir.

And on her own admission,she doesn't see murder

as killing someone, does she?

Ah.

And she was there whenMarcus copped it, you mean?

Mm.

Oh, hello.

What are those two up to?

Inspector, come and join us.

If I was to ask you where yoursister-in-law was at midnight,

sir, you'd say in bed, I take it?

Well, she was, wasn't she?

We think she was in thegraveyard with Eleanor Bunsall,

trying to contact her dead husband.

CHARLES: Oh, please, no.

Inspector, have you everknown anyone like Sandra,

with her symptoms, I mean.

What exactly are they?

The usual stuff associatedwith a breakdown-- mood swings,

uncertainty, sudden panic.

That's so unlike the real Sandra.

I mean, I've always thought of her

as a strong, determined, capable.

People change.

Especially after losing a partner.

Yeah, but you told usCharlie, Sandra told us herself

that she was getting stronger.

Now in the space of a few days, all that's gone.

Can you explain that?

Not really, but one or two things do bother me.

Like what?

The portrait gets slashed.

Sandra is the obvious choice to fix it.

Pop that the other way around though, she'll

be chosen to repair it, so let's cut one up.

CHARLES: Are you saying you think there

might some purpose in all this?

Go on, Mr. Bradford.

And what's more, it's a portrait that reminds

her of her dead husband.

You were there the day Ishowed her the postcards.

You all right?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

When do I start?

The portrait does bear an uncanny resemblance

to David, yes.

Which puts him firmly back in her mind.

But she has known that portrait all her life.

Why is it suddenly so important?

ALAN: Because of other thingsthat happened around it--

bells ring in the night, thepacking cases catch fire.

Yesterday, I left her alone in the museum

for two minutes, during whichtime a bust of Charles I

fell to the ground.

Sandra says it moved of its own accord.

And she went straightto Eleanor Bunsall, Troy.

She did, too.

How do you know?

Because I've been following her around

for the past couple of days.

I'm worried.

Sandy?

Thank god you were here.

What on earth are you doing here?

Miss Bunsall?

Is he dead?

Yes.

But how?

There's no one here.

Make leave, both of you,quickly and quietly-- quick.

TOM: You were there, Mr. MacKillop?

Thank god.

Supposing he lashed out atSandra, or even Miss Bunsall.

In Miss Bunsall's case, he'd have regretted it.

Where's Sandra now?

CHARLES: In bed.

I can and wake her, if you like.

TOM: No, no, don't do that.

Well, thank you, gentlemen.

We'll leave it for now.

[music playing]

So now Sandra's being got at, is she?

But not in your book, obviously, Troy?

- Right. - OK.

Tell me this.

Why was Marcus killed?

For the family dosh.

There wasn't any.

Well, the killer didn't know that.

Well, he would have, by thetime Marcus walked in, he'd dug

down as far as the skeleton-- hadn't found

so much as a gallstone.

All right, then, he was pissed off.

All that work, for nothing.

So he swings around, clobbershim, turns him into cat's meat.

The way you tell it, Troy, so graphically,

one might almost be there.

Annie, I don't mean to--to push you on this, but--

It's all right, Jim, I have thought over.

The answer is yes, I'll come with you.

You won't regret it, I promise you.

When do we leave?

Well, I-- I think we should gosoon, like in a couple of days.

Why?

What's the panic?

Barnaby wants to talk to me.

Oh, Jim, you haven't doneanything daft, have you?

Like killing Marcus, no, no.

I-- I just don't want the police trampling

all over my past life.

There's one or two things you should know

about me before we go,Annie, just in case you--

you disapprove.

Well, why don't you tell me about them

somewhere more comfortable?

[music playing]

Who the hell are you?

Yeah, the point is, who are you, Jim?

I reckon you were the banker forGeorge Burton and his cronies.

You've shafted them.

And now they're all dead,you can spend the money.

On your bike.

$100 quid?

With all the plans I've got?

$100,000, more like.

[chuckles]

[yelling]

Were not going to see MissBunsall again, are we, sir?

- We can if you want. - No.

Just that after the puncture,I had to unblock a drain,

putty a window, and rehang a tile.

That's police work for you-- helping

old ladies across the road.

Right, I'll have an egg and bacon

bap, a large white coffee with two sugars,

and whatever you fancy for yourself.

Sir?

Um-- coffee, black.

If you wanted something more substantial,

I wouldn't rat on you, well, back home, I mean.

No sugar.

Nice lad.

But get a load of this, he is going

to be paid more for playingme, than I am for being me.

It's a funny old life, Troy.

Listen, I want you to find out how

much Sandra MacKillop is worth.

You can lean on our old friend, Mr. Jocelyn.

According to this, he is the company's solicitor.

[music playing]

Hop in Anne.

Ta.

Oh.

Ah.

There you go.

Elbows.

Jim, Mr. Barnaby is here.

Jim, I--

GAVIN: Blimey, they've been going

at it some, whoever they are.

Troy, upstairs, go on.

Nico, the front room.

Was he going on holiday?

Kind of.

He was going to take me with him.

What do you thinks happened to him?

Where to?

France.

France for good.

What?

He's leaving all this? Selling up?

NICO: Sir? - Yeah?

Who is he, Annie?

I bet you money his name isn't really James Tate.

There's a mess upstairs, as well, sir.

They've really turned it over.

But he's not there?

No.

What is going on, Annie?

He's in that book.

George Burton.

Last of a gang on whom our Mr. Tate

was keeping a very close eye.

Suitcase packed, ready togo, to France, you say?

Where abouts in France?

South.

Olive trees, vineyards, sea--

that's what he promised me.

And that takes money, lots of it.

It doesn't seem real, does it?

No.

But he was there.

We all saw him.

Marcus was a greedy, lazy, old man, Sandra.

If he hadn't been, he'd still be alive.

- Hello, you two. - Hi, Alan.

Um-- we've come for the painting.

I'm going to finish it off in my studio.

Ah, morning, Inspector.

Morning.

Sergeant Troy.

That piece of china thatgot broken, what does it live?

Right here.

It landed there, in a dozen pieces.

And you've no idea why it fell?

None whatsoever.

Mrs. MacKillop, do you have any ideas?

Uh-- sorry, no.

Just in case you had any doubts,

there are no ghosts here, just human beings,

with all the usual foibles--

greed, envy, malice.

Someone opened this window from the outside,

and then they pulled on anylon thread with a fish line,

maybe, which was loopedaround the top of the figure,

and when the figure smashed,they pulled the thread clear.

Simple as that?

ALAN: But why, Inspector?

Do you smell anything?

Fish.

Hmm.

Do you have a cellar here?

Yeah.

Show it to me.

Oh, right.

[music playing]

Here we are.

[yelling]

You all right, sir?

Get after him.

Come on.

- Who is he? - Don't know.

You must have known he was here.

I didn't, I swear it.

GAVIN: We've lost him, sir.

You get paid to catchhim, Troy, not to lose him.

Rule number 24, don't expect any sympathy.

Who was he, sir?

He, Nico, was a ghost,with a weakness for fish.

No real damage, Tom.

You'll have a nasty bruise though.

Arnica.

A spade, you say?

I didn't know gardening could be so dangerous.

This was ghost busting, Cathy.

Thanks a lot, Tracy.

I'll call you next week, OK?

Old friend?

Uh-- new friend.

Right.

Well, give my love toJoyce and Cully, won't you?

Uh-- Cathy, I wouldn't askthis unless it were important,

and I know you've got a waitingroom full of people out there,

but if I wanted to drive someoneover the edge, could I do it?

I'm living proof of that, sir.

Seriously.

Yes, of course you could.

Even to suicide?

That would depend on your victim,

but you can induce paranoiain all sorts of ways--

psychologically, chemically, surgically.

Who are we talking about?

Sandra MacKillop.

Ah, that's why you camehere, not to Causton General.

Well, Sandra, as I'm sure youknow, is a patient of mine,

so don't expect any details.

Even though she might be in danger?

I would like to help you, yes, but--

I did send her to a counselorover the death of her husband.

Now, she might be less ethical.

What's her name, doctor?

Linda Marquis.

She's good at her job, but shemay already be known to you.

[music playing]

I've had a word with David, by the way.

Have you?

What did he say?

Oh, he didn't say anything.

But I thought you justsaid you'd spoken to him?

No, no, you don't understand how it all works, dear.

The Davids of this worlddon't actually speak to me.

I just put myself in theirshoes and speak for them.

They're rather one-sided conversations,

something like being back in the classroom.

Well, what do you say, then?

I say that David wantsyou to be the fun, loving,

confident girl you always were.

So, down to business.

What's made you change?

His d-- his departure.

Well, that's part of the problem, certainly.

What about diet, through?

Diet?

We are what we eat, Sandra.

Everyone knows that, but who carries

it to its logical conclusion?

Did you know, forinstance, that spinach can

be a very depressing vegetable?

And that fennel is uplifting?

No.

Uh-- Charlie does all the cooking and I--

I don't think he'd be very in--

Take me through a typical day's menu.

Breakfast--

The cellar dwellers gear, sir.

Ha, ha.

Have you got a name for him?

No, nor any sign of the murder weapon.

Pencil and paper, Nico.

Yeah.

One round of sandwiches, pilchard,

going off with a vengeance.

You think Sandra MacKillop'slife is in danger,

sir, or just her sanity?

That's a good question, huh, Troy?

One pocket knife, army, Swiss, there of.

Have you heard back fromthe MacKillop's solicitor?

No, he's playing hard to get.

One donkey jacket-- blue.

Then lean on him.

Look, sir, we've got a real body--

Marcus Lowrie-- and a couple of real suspects,

favorite being this geezer.

Shouldn't we find out whohe is and where he's gone?

He has gone to ground, Troy.

Don't ask me where, butI think I know who he is.

You do?

Yeah.

And if someone would do aspot of housebreaking for me,

I could prove it.

You are too kind, Troy.

Ta, sir.

Thank you.

Have you heard anything,Mr. Barnaby, about Jim?

I've had a forensic teamin his cottage, Annie.

They found some blood on one of the chairs.

Uh-- there was a fight, certainly,

but we don't know the extent of it.

So where is he then?

Ditched me, hasn't he, likeevery man I've ever met.

I'll let you know the moment we hear anything.

Now give us a pint now, white wine.

There you go.

Why this pub, Tom?

Oh, what's the matter, don't you like it?

I love it.

Now you answer my question.

I'm meeting Troy here.

If he doesn't get caught, that is.

Doing what?

Breaking in to Anne Quarritch's house.

It's delegation, Joyce.

Troy doing that.

Nico and Cully--

Yes, where are they this evening?

Jim Tate's cottage, in search of his past.

Evening, Mrs. B.

Hello, Gavin.

We're on set, with a slight variation.

Which is?

The smoked mackerel.

I did put it in the canteen freezer

and I did label it clearly.

Don't worry, I nipped into thesupermarket on the way here,

bought us some more.

Won't be a moment.

Go on.

Oh, ta.

What can I get you?

I'll have a large, straight answer.

This is a till receipt.

I found it pinned to a board in your kitchen.

On it, you'll find smokedmackerel, at $2 pounds pounds,

$13 p.

That is a packet of smokedmackerel, priced $2 pounds

$13 p, found in the graveyard.

You were taking it to the man who's been

hiding in the museum's cellar.

Should have turned him in, Annie.

Why didn't you?

Because he threatened to kill me.

Who is he?

I was once married to him.

Ralph Edward Bailey, doing10 years for manslaughter,

absconded from Durham jail four weeks ago.

You divorced him June 1987, wentback to using your maiden name.

And he's killed again, by the looks of things--

Marcus Lowrie.

You've been harboring a very dangerous man.

How did you know it was me, Inspector?

Remember when we gave youa lift to Jim's cottage,

you dropped your shopping?

A bit heavy on the smoked fish.

- Who was it for? - Me.

TOM: No.

It was for Ralph at the museum.

Well, he is not there now.

So where is he?

He's hiding out at Jim Tate's cottage.

[music playing]

[whispering]

I'll say one thing for that Scene of Crime lot,

they sure can tidy up.

What exactly are welooking for though, Nico?

I don't know.

What are you looking for?

Only uh-- I might just have it.

Let's start at the top and work our way down.

[noise]

[music playing]

[sirens]

[thud]

Cully?

Cully?

Hi, dad.

Where is he?

Attic.

[car starting]

It's all right.

It's only a car.

What about Nico, sir?

No, not this time.

I don't want him to see our darker side.

I'm not sure I want to see that myself.

Last night, you got from thestation to Jim Tate's cottage

in four minutes flat.

Everything I ever said about your driving

I take back, unreservedly.

Where are we going, sir?

To see Linda Marquis.

GAVIN: Do you want to getbreakfast on the way, sir?

TOM: On me.

So Marcus was killed by Ralph Bailey, who

also robbed Jonathan's grave?

If there was money there, I'm sure he did.

But why play the ghost to Sandra MacKillop?

To get her out of the museum.

Her presence was cramping his style.

Well, Bradford's there all the time as well--

didn't try getting him out of the way.

No, but he did smack him one.

Then off he went to see James Tate,

because Annie said he had money.

[music playing]

TOM: It all hangs togetherTroy, I grant you that.

it's too clear cut.

GAVIN: Is that wrong, sir?

TOM: That was-- life's not like that.

GAVIN: So to beef things up,we call on this Linda Marquis?

TOM: Not for the hell of it, Troy.

Sandra MacKillop is at the bottom of all this,

and Linda Marquis is her confessor,

as indeed, I am yours.

How many fried eggs a week should

you not have more than, then?

I have no idea, sir.

Four.

Bacon roll is just as bad.

I spy, with my little eye,something beginning with c.

Yeah, all right, sir, I know--

cholesterol.

No.

Charles.

Good morning, Mr. MacKillop.

You're up bright and early.

CHARLES: Morning.

Um-- must look odd, Inspector, but, um--

Sandra is not the only onewho has needed counseling.

It's been a tough time for me, too.

I can imagine.

LINDA: Is this a professional matter

or a personal one, Inspector?

I'd like to know who'sgot in for Sandra MacKillop?

I thought you were investigating a murder?

Oh, we are.

What sort of a business do you think

I'm running here, Mr. Barnaby?

TOM: A very successful one,by the looks of things--

first client, 8:30 AM.

Mr. MacKillop.

People have busy lives.

I try to accommodate them.

And I never betray their confidence.

Oh, no, no, you are very good at keeping

secrets, especially your own.

Do I have any?

Oh, you have a humdinger.

And you fit thedescription so perfectly--

heroin, chic.

It was a long time ago.

A short two years ago.

All right.

But it's over now.

TOM: And for that, more powerto your elbow, or just above it,

but what would the likes ofCharles MacKillop and Sandra

say if they heard about that?

They'd say it makes me more understanding,

more of a human being.

Oh, right.

I'll ask them.

No.

If I tell you something, willshe know that it came from me?

Mr. Bradford?

I'm keen on history, too, especially yours.

It seems that in the dim and distant past,

you and Sandra MacKillop were an item.

Then David MacKillopstepped in, pots of money,

and you was sidelined.

And we'd like to know how that made you feel--

bitter, angry, vengeful?

Not so long ago, you sawme as a victim in all this,

Inspector.

Slashed portrait, fist in the face.

I've changed my mind.

How did it make me feel?

Relieved.

Oh, come on.

Passionate romance with abeautiful woman, suddenly

drops you, and you were beside yourself.

You've been trying to getback at her ever since.

That's simply not true, Inspector.

Yes, I did, once throw mycap at Sandra, but mainly

for my father's sake.

I'm sorry?

He was forever nagging me to find a girlfriend.

And I did try and fall in lovewith Sandy, I promise you,

but my heart just wasn't in it.

And why was that?

If sexuality were the civil war,

I'd be a Cavalier, not a roundhead.

You what?

I have never been attractedto the opposite sex.

I don't think we needtrouble you any further, sir.

Just a sec.

Charles MacKillop-- no girlfriends, no wife.

In this, um-- civil war ofsexuality, where does he stand?

On your side, Inspector.

Which is also mine.

I never doubted it for a moment, Gavin.

Sir, Sandra MacKillop in her will--

Mr. Jocelyn dew it up for her infavor of her sister in Canada.

Say what she's worth.

Well, she owns half the company, which is valued

at just over $10 million.

That's worth fighting about.

I am the resurrection andthe life, sayeth the Lord.

He that believeth in me,though he were dead, yet shall

he live.

And whosoever liveth and believeth in me,

shall never die.

[music playing]

I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he

shall stand at the Latterday upon the earth.

Vicar-- halt.

What's wrong?

I'm sorry.

False alarm.

Carry on.

VICAR: And though this body be destroyed,

yet shall I see God, whomI shall see for myself

and mine eyes shall behold--

Not right.

Inspector, all is not well down there.

Bring it up.

[music playing]

All right, Troy, off you go.

What am I looking for, sir?

Squatters.

Go on.

Oh.

[screams]

TOM: Who is it?

James Tate, Inspector.

Who else would it be?

It is James Tate, sir.

[crying]

You are sitting in my chairand you are probably wearing

my socks, aren't you, eh?

Who did you say is coming to take him?

He's a young PC called Angel.

Ah.

He said he's coming down today.

Tom, I think we'vefound James Tate for you.

George Burton and Co.

stole $3 million pounds worth of stuff in cash,

it would net $1 million.

They hired an accountant,Michael Whistler,

to pay off safe houses, car dealers, lawyers.

Bent cops.

Yeah.

And he invested what was left over.

But one or two of the gang,who were all inside by now,

wondered whether it reallyhad boiled down to $1 million,

or was it $1.5 million.

And if so, what happenedto the other half million?

They sent a heavy to seeWhistler and he'd gone,

disappeared into thin air.

JOYCE: And you think he's James Tate.

With the gang all inside, hehad time to reinvent himself,

plastic surgery, if necessary.

Then pop up five years later in Aspen Tallow.

Well done, both of you.

Phone.

Barnaby.

Yeah, I'll be there in 10 minutes.

They found him and mycar on a dockside in Hull.

He was trying to getworking on a Polish trawler.

Just mad about a fish, eh?

OK, Ralph.

What's your beef with Sandra MacKillop?

You what?

If he knew any French now,he'd point to himself as moi.

Christ, where'd they dig you up?

We'll come to the digging later.

In the meantime, what's your grudge

against Sandra MacKillop?

I don't have one.

Convicted killer escapes from Durham jail,

comes all the way back herejust a admire the scenery.

Oh, do us a favor.

You had an old score to settle.

So you tried to drive her nuts--

bells in the night, breakingchina, burning packing cases.

If you must know, I've always had

a highest regard for Sandra.

Ask her?

No.

You've been playingghosts, in between killing

Marcus Lowrie and James Tate.

That's it. I'm done.

Solicitor?

It's got to be him, sir, oris that still too clear cut?

Just a little.

Motive, money,opportunity-- bags of it.

On top of which, since we found him in the cellar,

all this ghosty stuff stopped.

Sandra, you sure youdon't mind me rushing off?

The meeting's in half an hour.

You go ahead, Charlie.

I'm sure Alan must be here by now.

Thanks. CHARLES: Pleasure.

Oh, and call in at the office later on.

There's a heap of stuff for you to sign.

Uh-huh.

[music playing]

[screaming]

San-- Sandra, what is it?

What-- what-- I--

TOM: Michael Aron Whistlerwho became James Tate.

Look at his form, sir.

Oh, spoken like a proper copper.

Hello, Cathy.

Uh-- Nico, chair for Dr. Bullard.

Tom, it's about Sandra MacKillop.

You know you asked if it waspossible to drive someone mad?

Well, 10:00 o'clock this morning, Anne Quarritch

brought Sandra to mysurgery as near to the edge

as I've seen her. - Why?

What had happened to her?

She claims to have seenwriting on the museum wall--

David Delight Departed.

Should that mean something?

Thank you.

It's a mantra, whichLinda Marquis taught her,

which brings me to why here.

[music playing]

TOM [ON PHONE]: Mrs. MacKillop,it's Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I'd like us to me, please.

I need your help.

Hello, are you still there.

Yes.

TOM [ON PHONE]: Somewhere private.

And I'd like you to come alone.

Do you know the lake at Martyr Warren?

[music playing]

Two people have been killed,both by Robert Bailey.

But there's a problem.

He couldn't have put thewriting on the museum wall

because he was locked up at the time.

I don't think anyoneliving did it, Inspector.

Sandra, you are as sane as I am.

I can prove it to you.

David Delight Departed.

You saw it because it was there.

But when Alan went to--

It wasn't there.

You're the only one with anyfaith left in me, Inspector.

What's gotten into me?

At first, I thought someone wanted you dead.

But now, I believe, that'sthe last thing they want.

Will you help me?

Sandra?

Come in.

Come in.

Close your eyes, Sandra.

What do you see?

Darkness?

SANDRA: Images of this room,the windows, uh-- plants, you.

LINDA: So it can be with our thoughts.

They can appear on the wall of our mind.

I saw those words at the museum

because David put them there.

No, Sandra, you put them there.

He's telling me something,and I'm refusing to listen.

Linda, you're the only personthat really understands me.

You've got to help.

There are no ghosts there.

They've been conjured up by the likes

of Alan Bradford for the sakeof his visitors, but not by you.

I will take you to themuseum and I'll prove it.

When can we go?

This evening.

GAVIN: I've got that stuff from Dr.

Bullard, sir, the drug stuff.

TOM: George Bullard lent me that and knocked

up the slide for me, too.

How does it tie in with the murder?

I'll tell you in the car.

Just one or two lose ends to tie up.

We'll have coffee later.

Well, tell them that Ralph meant to kill you,

or that very least he'd havebeaten you up, yet again.

[phone ringing]

All the more reason to have gone to the police,

that's what he'll say.

Won't you?

I'm sorry.

Harboring a criminal.

You just tell me the truth, Annie,

and I promise I'll do the best for you.

Can't say fairer than that, can I?

Hello, Mr. Bradford. - Hello.

How did Ralph know that Jim Tate had money?

Did you tell him? - No.

He must have overheard Jim talking

about his place in France,one day in the museum.

Can I ask something?

How did old Bunsall knowit was Jim in that grave?

The power of extended logic,also common sense, if you like.

We've all got it, but she uses it.

You mean, it's not a special gift,

like she'd have us believe?

No, of course not.

Not like she'd be the one to tell us, huh?

In the mean time, you didn't know that Ralph

was hiding in your cellar?

No.

That makes you either very naive or stupid.

How about engrossed in other things?

Such as?

My work.

Trying to shine a light indark places, like Aspen Tallow.

That much we have in common, Mr. Bradford.

Anything else, Troy?

Yes, sir.

Since when have you two been so, um--

friendly?

I'm here to give Annie her wages.

I do so every week andshe makes me a cup of tea.

It's called a ritual.

And so far as I know, it'sperfectly legal, Gavin.

[music playing]

Oh, why is that, I wonder?

See?

No words on walls, no moving China.

It's funny, I'd never noticed itbefore, but you're quite right,

it's just like him.

And Jonathan Lowrie, back in his place.

How are you, Jonathan?

If only you knew what you'd put us through.

It's the wind.

[music playing]

What's wrong?

Look.

What?

There.

Can't you see him?

See what?

It's David.

Look.

Sandra, you and I are the only people here.

David is dead and buriedand over in the graveyard.

Then who is that?

Where?

What are talking about?

Are you sure you can't see him, Linda?

Sandra, you need serious help,and this was not a good idea.

Can you see me, Miss Marquis?

Troy, you see that ghost over there?

Go and run him through without that.

Go on.

Charlie?

Charlie, what have I ever done to you?

Hey.

I've been 25 years in this game,

and I've never laid a finger on a prisoner.

But today, I think Iunderstand why some people do.

All right, so the joke got a bit out of hand.

Joke?

A joke?

Well, how about this for a deal.

You make me laugh, and youcan walk through that door,

scot-free.

LINDA: Better still, tell us whywe're here in the first place.

Directives-- SandraMacKillop, Charles MacKillop,

in equal measure.

David left his shareof the business to Sandra

and you wanted it.

You couldn't kill her, becausethen it would go to her sister,

so you tried to get powerof attorney over her

by driving her mad.

GAVIN: What for, Mr. MacKillop?

So you could flog it, run offwith Miss needle features here?

I resent that.

TOM: The clinic you were in, say you

weren't hooked just on heroine, but also

on a drug called Zolazepam.

That's a mind bender.

And you kept back a supplyof it, just in case.

And you hooked Sandra MacKillop on it.

Not me.

TOM: Ooh, watch out, Charlie.

She's jumping ship.

Go on, Linda, do yourself a bit of good.

How did he do it?

In the meals he's always cooking her.

And then a couple of months back,

according my medical expert, he withdrew it.

Now, it's a drug that'sharder to kick than heroin,

with 54 known side effects--

paranoia, confusion, insecurity,panic, disorientation, the lot.

There you are.

Read all about it.

You know, Charlie, if youhad stayed away this woman,

we might never have got to you.

What?

Remember that morning wefound you outside her house,

pretending there was nothing between you.

Except for a spot of counseling,

which had gone on all night.

Inspector-- Inspector,before we go any further,

none of this was my idea.

Oh, it was her fault, was it?

She counseled you to to driveyour sister-in-law insane?

Split them up, Troy.

Put her in a cell.

No, stay where you are.

Feel free.

Why?

Because you are one of those women who's had

everything thrown your way from love to money.

I just wanted a little of both.

TOM: Right.

Let's clear up the details, shall we?

Slashed painting?

That was Linda.

Chosen for it's likeness to David?

Yes.

And the bell at night, broken china?

That was me.

The packing cases, too.

Spent a lot of time in the museum as a kid,

so I knew the hot spot.

The writing on the wall?

Linda, but I hit Alan Bradford.

That's something I wantedto do for a long time.

Can I go now?

This isn't this somesort of priestly confession

where I give you 10 Hail Marysand send you on your way again.

You mentally tortured your brother's wife.

But can you go to prison for it?

Playing the caring relative--certainly made a fool of me.

I doubt that I'll dotime for bruising your ego.

No, maybe you're right.

But I have a big, fat card up my sleeve.

I'm holding a man down thecorridor for two murders.

Ralph Bailey-- yeah.

Ralph Bailey, yes.

Ralph says you're the man I'm after.

He saw you bury James Tate.

And the idea really appeals to me.

I mean, he's going back to jail anyway.

And like you say, you might get off,

so why don't I fit you upwith murder, or even two?

Now, look, Inspector, he'sthe one who buried Jim Tate.

I watched him do it.

In the absence of anyproof, I prefer his version.

But I can help you, notwith Marcus, I wasn't there,

but a couple of nights later,I was on my way to the museum,

2:00-3:00 in the morning.

At the gate, I could hear himdigging over at Marcus's grave.

It was Bailey.

Before he dumped Jim in the grave,

he stole his watch and a gold chain.

Find that, and that's proof enough, isn't it?

Why don't you write it all down?

Then what happens?

Well, then I don't charge you with a murder

you didn't commit.

I said, Solicitor.

Oh, they've all gone to the moon, Ralph.

There's a bloke upstairs bythe name of Charlie MacKillop.

Do you know him?

Since we were kids.

He says he saw you beat Marcus Lowrie to death.

And you believe him?

We can point the evidenceyour way, if we need to.

Well, you don't need to.

I'd heard Jim Tate run a metaldetector over Jonathan's grave,

so that night I lifted the slab.

[music playing]

Halfway through, in walks Charlie MacKillop.

He set something up--

a slide projector.

He was testing it when Marcus pulls up.

GAVIN: And you chose aplace for peace and quiet.

TOM: What did Charlie do?RALPH: Hid in the shadows.

Bastards.

You stole it.

You stole my inheritance.

Give it to me.

I said, give it to me.

[yelling]

TOM: The projector.

Go take his office apart,then his house, but find it.

I am a fair man, Ralph.

You write all this down for me, and I'll

see you don't lose parole.

GAVIN: Have any luck upstairs?

Sorry, no.

That's everywhere-- house, office, studio.

What now?

Now, I tell Barnaby and then duck.

Ah, so where is it?

NICO: Well, he-- he couldhave chucked it anywhere.

GAVIN: Oh, great.

NICO: Sort of random. Over a hedge.

In a tip.

Over there, I suppose.

Yeah, sure it's a start.

[music playing]

Oh.

[laughing]

Oh, you little beauty.

Guess what?

Ralph now says that you murdered Marcus

Lowrie, which of course, I already

knew, but was unable to prove.

What are you talking about?

He saw you do it.

Then he's lying.

No, I think you've both been very honest,

you with your description ofJim Tate's unofficial burial,

and Ralph with his story of how you beat Marcus

Lowrie to death with this.

No matter how well you cleaned it up, Charlie,

there will be bits of him on it somewhere.

Guess what?

Charlie now says he saw you bury James Tate,

and he's made astatement to that effect.

Yeah, that you wrote for him.

Oh, come on, Ralph, whatdo you take me for, a cheat?

Don't worry.

I've got a forensic teamdigging that grave to bits.

If you were there, they'll find something.

I wasn't. He's lying.

And if you weren't, they won't.

However, your personal belongings, taken off

you when you were recaptured.

Tell me, why has that got JamesTate's fingerprints on it?

You pair of bastards.

Oh, Ralph, that's been said before,

and I sincerely hope it will be said again.

All right, I give up.

You stay there.

I'll make do over here.

Dad, you're talking to a dog.

Yeah, I know, and he's talkingback to me, aren't you, Spot?

[doorbell]

That'll be the men in white coats, then.

- I'll get it. - I'll miss him.

He's really settled in, don't you think?

Not Nico, Spot.

Morning, sir.

TOM: Hello, Gavin.

Oh, yeah, he's a beauty.

I'll be well pleased.

Give him my regards, will you?

GAVIN: Yes, thanks.

Oh, sorry I didn't come around yesterday.

I was off sick.

Oh, you better?

GAVIN: Yeah, yeah, touch of food poisoning.

Canteen grub, sir, know what I mean?

Got any idea what it was disagreed with you?

I think it was the fish pateWednesday-- smoked mackerel.

Yeah, well, that's the trouble,

you never know wherethey've been, do you, Troy?

No, sir.

By the way, we're on page three of the mail.

Is that good or bad?

Last night, police inCauston charged two local men

with the murders ofMichael Stewart Whistler,

also known as James Tate, last surviving

member of the George Burton gang,

and of Marcus Jonathan Lowrie.

And then it goes on about the ghost.

TOM: God, what's the world coming to, Joyce.

Half a paragraph on the crimeand a whole page on something

that doesn't exist.

[bells]

[creaking]

[music playing]