All language subtitles for Midsomer.Murders.S05E02.Market.for.Murder.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB

TELEVISION: ..a billion pounds.
The UK company...

I'm afraid I've got to drive up
to town.

What, now, Selwyn?

There's a bit of a panic on.

The Dow Jones closed
200 points down.

You go to bed.

I'll be home tomorrow evening.

Honestly, the house is lit up
like a damn Christmas tree.

It all costs money, you know.

It's me.

We're on. The usual place.

You need a mortgage to breathe
around here, Troy.

What is the matter, Troy?

Looking for a newsagent.

Why?
To get a newspaper.

Ask a stupid question.

The 'Investment Daily',
Troy?

It was all they had left, sir.

So the fire started when you turned
on the ignition, is that right?

Yes, it was simultaneous.

Well, we'll let forensics
have a look at that.

Can you think of anyone
who might have had a grudge

against you, Mr Proctor?
Certainly not.

What kind of car is it, sir?

It was a 1963 Alvis.

Old car like that,
maybe it was the wiring.

I spent a fortune restoring this
car. It was not the wiring.

Where are you off to?

The Reading Club.

Poor James, he's going to be
very upset about his car.

It's not his car, it's my car,
and I'm very upset.

Yes, darling, of course.
I'm sorry.

See you later.

May I ask you, sir, who's James?

Lord Chetwood.

I acquired the car from him
and it was a wreck,

like everything else
on that Chetwood estate.

Man's a bloody disaster.

James, I'm off to the Reading Club.

Pull! Pull! Pull!

If the phone goes, do answer it.

It could be the roofing contractors.

There it is again. Feel.

James, did you hear what I said?

Yes. Answer the phone.
Roofing chap.

I think I might see Doc Bradshaw.

He understands.

Three times a day after meals,
Mrs Hopkins.

Come back if they don't do
the trick.

Thank you, Doctor Bradshaw.

Bye, Mrs Bradshaw.

You'll be off to Marjorie's
for the Reading Club, I expect.

I expect I will, yes.

Marjorie's kindly asked me to help
her with the garden party this year.

How lovely.

I'm in charge of salads.

Lots to think about there.

Goodbye.

Isn't it time you lot
started another book?

You've been lugging that tome
around for ages.

Rupert, have we got an invitation
to Marjorie's garden party yet?

Not as far as I know.

Surely she's not left us off
the list this year.

Pray God she has.

Warm Pimms and rubber quiche
in Marjorie's back garden

is not my idea of fun.

It's not about fun,

it's about making a mark
in village life.

You've just got no drive, Rupert,
socially or professionally.

Sorry, dear.

I left you several messages.

Well, where the hell were you?

I sat in the bar for two hours
twiddling my thumbs.

Hang on a second, there's someone
at the door.

Afternoon.
Hi.

I warn you, I'm beginning to feel
very unappreciated.

What!?

No, I'm still here.

Look, um, maybe tonight's
not such a good idea, OK.

I'll give you a ring.

About time, too. Everyone else
is present and correct.

Sandra.

Tamsin.

Lavinia.

Ginny.

Now then.

The stock market.

Ginny, where's your book?

Sorry. I left it in the car.

Do remember to bring it in.
You never know who's watching.

Is all this secrecy
really necessary?

All we're doing is buying
a few shares.

We decided on discretion
at the outset

but if you want to change
that policy, let's vote on it.

I know it sounds silly

but I for one would far rather
we kept it to ourselves.

As you know,
Selwyn is a stockbroker.

I don't think he'd be happy about
me investing in the stock market.

It's alright for you, you
don't have an interfering husband

to worry about.
That's agreed, then.

I myself have no strong feelings
either way,

but darling Gerald always said
one should never let one's money

be the subject of public discussion.

So...

..to business.

We are halfway through
our fourth financial year,

and I'm delighted to report

that the Midsomer Market Reading
Club share portfolio

is beating the UK Index by 16%.

Which means that we girls,

who aren't supposed to know tuppence
about money matters,

are giving those overpaid analysts
and fund managers

a jolly good hiding.

However,

I must sound a note of caution.

Gerald always said,
spread the risk,

so I propose we sell off some of our
biggest winners

and reinvest.

Sandra?

Ginny mentioned a company called
Treetime at our last meeting.

Oh, I read about it being involved
in a take-over or something.

So I've been looking into it.

I was a little concerned about
the interest on their borrowing

but taking the gross interest
and the pre-tax profits,

I've worked out that Treetime
are earning

seven times the interest repayments
on their debt

which is very healthy indeed.

Isn't she marvellous with figures?

I daresay you get it from
that bookmaker father of yours.

If we're doing so well, couldn't
we just sell some shares

and take some actual money out?

Oh, yes! Can't we make hay,
so to speak?

The stock market only bears
real fruit

for the long-term investor,
Lavinia.

Is that the gospel according
to Gerald?

Yes, it is, Ginny,
and I happen to agree with it.

But let's put it to the vote.

All those in favour of cashing in
some of our investments?

Those in favour of re-investing?

Re-investment it is, then.

Anything?

No.

First thing anyone saw or heard
last night was the fire engine.

Not a very popular bloke,
Selwyn Proctor.

One woman asked if he'd been hurt.
I said, "No."

She said, "Pity."

Something in your paper
about my pension plan.

Sir, do you mind?

Joyce was saying I ought
to supplement my police pension.

Could I just...
..What are you doing?

'The Hawk'. Well, well.

My dad bought me the first issue
when I was six

and I just kept on buying it.

It's become a sort of habit,
you know.

And who, exactly, is the Hawk?

Well, he's this private detective
who fights evil

and he can turn into a hawk.

At night. And he's got this amazing
night vision.

Can he fly?

Only when he's the Hawk.

Extraordinary.

You think you know someone.

I never actually read it.

No. Of course not.

About the pensions - you got
yourself sorted out there, have you?

God, no. I'm too young for things
like that.

Obviously.

Lavinia, I still don't know

whether you and James are coming
to my garden party.

Of course we are, Marjorie.

How about you, Tamsin?

I hope so. I've got to
double-check with Selwyn first.

Ginny.

Marjorie. Could I have word?

If you must, dear.

Ginny, I want to pick your brains
about the Gardening Club lunch.

What's The Feathers like?

What?

The Feathers Hotel
on the London Road.

I heard the food is rather good.

I thought, Ginny's the gourmet,
she's bound to have been there.

No, Marjorie. I've never been there.

Bye.

Ginny!

Have you been invited
to Marjorie's garden party?

Yes, and I've a good mind not to go.

None of us can stand the old boot

but we all turn out
for her bloody garden parties.

She's just lonely.

She's downright rude.

She always has a go at you
about your father being a bookie

or haven't you noticed?
I don't mind.

Well, I do.

One of these days I'm going to tell
that woman what I really think

and then she won't know
what's hit her.

I want to leave the club.

I'd like to sell my share
of the investments, Marjorie.

Well...

..you have to offer them
to the other members first.

Why didn't you mention it
at the meeting?

Can't I do it now?

My dear, there's a procedure
to go through.

Anyway, why the hurry?

You're married to the richest man
in the village, for heaven's sake.

Or is there a problem?

The 'Investment Daily'.
What brought that on?

There's a story here about
the Dependable Insurance Company.

They're being investigated
for malpractice.

They're one of the biggest
insurance companies in the country.

You say that but it says
they're being investigated.

It's probably routine.

All these companies are under
scrutiny. Quite right.

I can't make head nor tail
of this jargon.

Leave it to the experts, darling.

Oh, Gerald.

People are so wicked.

You'd never credit it.

WINDOW BREAKS

LATCH OPENS

Hello?

Is there anyone there?

FALLS DOWN STAIRS
(SCREAMS)

NEWS ANCHOR READS STOCKS

Marjorie, dear?

It's Vera.

Surgery, good morning.

Let me see.

Doctor Bradshaw could see you
tomorrow at 4:00.

Oh, Goodbye.

Good morning, Lord Chetwood.

For heaven's sake, Sandra.
Call me James.

I think, for reasons of propriety,

we should stick to the formalities
in public.

Vastly over-rated, propriety,
if you ask me.
And how is Lady Chetwood?

Same as usual.
Obsessed with the roof.

Spends more time up there
than she does with me.

Think it's grounds for divorce,
do you?

No. Probably not, I fancy.

I, um, do you think your husband
could spare me a moment

of his valuable time?

I'm sure he could, Lord Chetwood.

Lord Chetwood is here.

You've got to see him, Rupert.

Why can't he make an appointment
like anyone else?

I said you'd see him right away.

This is terribly good of you,
Rupert.

Hello, James. What's the trouble
this time?

It's this wretched pressure
behind the eyes.

I can't sleep a wink.
Sit down.
Night after night.

Roll your sleeve up.

SIRENS WAIL

I wonder what that could be?

Perhaps another of Selwyn Proctor's
cars has gone up in flames.

Oh, don't. My lovely old Alvis.

Never a problem for years

and that man destroys it
in a matter of weeks.

That's probably what brought
this attack on, James.

Post-traumatic stress syndrome.

Good lord, I never thought of that.

You're a genius, Rupert.
Genius.

Come in, Harry.

What is it?

I've found another one of these
in the pool.

It's just the kids next door, Harry.
Chuck it back.

Are you OK?

Yes, I'm fine.

Are you sure?

You can trust me, I'm the poolman.

PHONE RINGS

Don't go away, Harry,

I want to talk to you about
the Reading Club meeting.

Can't wait?

Hello.

Hello?

What?

Oh, my God.

Yes. I'll come right away.

Yes, as soon as possible.

I've got to go to Ginny's.

Something awful has happened
to Marjorie Empson.

Multiple blows to the back
of the skull by the look of it.

Congealed blood and hair
on the stick.

Yes, Tom, the walking stick
would be favourite.

Time of death?

Sometime after 10pm last night
at a very rough guess.

What about 11:07?

Sir, there's a Mrs Hopkins
in the kitchen.

She called the emergency services
when she saw the broken window.

When did you last see her,
Mrs Hopkins?

Yesterday. I was here
most of the afternoon.

Marjorie had kindly asked me to help
with her garden party.

We discussed salads and dips,

and then I left so she could get
ready for the Reading Club.

The Reading Club?

Yes. Lady Chetwood and so on.
They meet here to discuss books.

Marjorie begged me to join,
but it's really not my thing.

Mrs Hopkins said that Mrs Empson's
silver is missing.

Marjorie was very proud
of her silver.

It came from her father's side.

Where did she keep the key
to the cupboard?

In the tea caddy.

The police will want to talk to us

about what's happened
to poor Marjorie

so obviously we're going to have
to come clean

about what the Reading Club
actually does.

Yes, I suppose we will.

Oh, dear.

Well, that's marvellous Lavinia.
How much are we worth?

No. It's my money, darling,
and it's for the roof.

I thought you were up to something.

You don't need four years to discuss
a book as bad as 'Tuscan Spring'.

You mean you've actually read it?

Yes.

I thought it might give us something
to talk about.

Are you completely mad?

Insider dealing
is a criminal offence.

I could lose my job. I could be
prosecuted, for God's sake.

I'm sorry, Selwyn.

How can I drum it
into your thick head

that money is a serious business?

Day after day

I sit in this big house

on my own

because you're never here.
That's serious.

Is this about babies again?

Because I've said all I've
got to say about that subject.

Well, I suppose we kept it secret

because some of the men
in Midsomer Market

are a little behind the times.

They like to wear the trousers
where money's concerned.

I'm divorced, thank God,
so it's not my problem.

Sorry to interrupt.

You need a new filter, so I'll pop
back later on in the week, yeah?

Great. Thanks Harry.

So, it was Marjorie Empson
who ran the club?

Marjorie is great at running things.

And you all take a keen interest
in the stock market?

God no! No, no.
It's total gibberish to me.

Marjorie is a wiz at bookkeeping,

and Sandra Bradshaw,
she's the local GP's wife,

has a fantastic head for figures,

so I just let them get on with it.

Anyway, one or two
of our investments

are doing incredibly well
so we discussed selling them off.

And then?

And then the meeting broke up.

Oh, Tamsin Proctor stayed behind
to talk to Marjorie.

And what did you do?

I got home at 7:10.

I had a glass of wine
and some supper.

I watched the news and went to bed
with a book.

It was terribly boring.

You're going to have to start again
from scratch, mate.

Really?

Yeah, re-paper the whole
shooting match. Tch tch.

God, look at the state of the place.

Don't fancy your job much.

You're a very perceptive man.

Anyway, I'm looking
for Lady Chetwood.

Oh, are you?

Go down the corridor, turn left
at the door and up the stairs.

You'll find my wife at the top,
contemplating the roof.

Cheers.
Cheers.

Lady Chetwood?

Any news about my car?

Afraid not, Mr Proctor.

God, this country.
Everything takes forever.

A woman was murdered
in the village last night.

I think that takes precedence.

Why aren't you looking
for the thugs who did it

instead of harassing my wife?

I'm not harassing your wife.

I need a brief statement from
Mrs Proctor about the meeting

at Marjorie Empson's.

Now if you'd excuse us, please.

Yes, the bloody meeting.
Good luck to you.

My husband's a lovely man, sergeant,
with many talents,

but hanging onto money
is not one of them.

So you joined the Reading Club.

Yes, it was my secret plan,

to make some money so that I could
patch up the roof up here and there.

Was the club doing well?

Incredibly well,
thanks to Marjorie and Sandra.

I was rather hoping
that we could sell some shares

so that I could give those
roofing chaps a down payment,

but I was outvoted.

Are you alright?

Yeah, not too good with heights,
actually.

I stayed behind to talk to Marjorie,
Mrs Empson,

about selling my share
of the portfolio.

How long did you talk to her?
Only 10 minutes or so.

And then I came home and cooked
dinner for my husband.

Did it not occur to you

that the club might cause a problem
for your husband?

It had crossed my mind, yes,

but Selwyn never talks about
his work to me

so I thought it'd be alright.
But it did cross your mind.

Yes.

That's why I wanted
to sell my shares.

I only joined the club to make
some friends in the village.

You joined the club for social,
rather than financial reasons?

Yes.

Despite the fact there might be
a conflict of interest

with your husband?

Yes. No.

You see, the thing is, my husband...

..Yes? Your husband what?
Nothing.

No. That's all I've got to say.

I'm sorry.

Poor old Marjorie.

Just like her to put up a fight.
She loved her silver.

You knew about Mrs Empson's silver?

Oh, everyone was shown
the family silver.

Some of it was plate, I'm afraid.
Poor old Marjorie.

She was popular in the village,
I'm told.

Oh, yes.

Marjorie could be a little blunt,

she did tend to
get people's backs up,

but she was a good person
at heart.

OK. Everybody knew
about Mrs Empson's silver.

Even knew where she kept
the key to it.

We've got to be looking
for some kind of local lowlife.

You're assuming it was
a genuine break-in.

How do you mean?

Well, your local lowlife,

why would he ignore a purse stuffed
with cash and credit cards,

a top-of-the-range laptop computer,
and an expensive camera?

You think it's to do with
the Reading Club?

I'm keeping an open mind, Troy.

Oh, look! Look who's here.

Hello.

May we?

Oh, yes please. Be my guest.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby,

this is Detective Sergeant Troy.

Harry...the poolman.

You'll have to excuse the whiff
of chlorine, it goes with the job.

Everywhere I go in this village,
you pop up.

There's lots of swimming-pools
in this neck of the woods

I'm happy to say.
Do you live here, Mr...

Painter. Just outside. A modest
dwelling, but my own.

Where were you on Monday night?

I love it when coppers ask that.

Been asked it a lot, have you,
Mr Painter?

He's good, isn't he?

We could continue this conversation
somewhere more appropriate.

Chill out.

Monday, let's see.

I was in here.
I'm on the quiz team, see.

Any strangers in here that night?

Not that I can remember. No.

Did you know Marjorie Empson?

Not really. I only hang around
with the swimming-pool set.

Like the Proctors?
Yeah.

I do their pool. Why?

Just making enquiries.

You follow the stock market?
I'm checking my pension.

Oh, yeah. Who's it with then?
Dependable.

Bit of an expert on pensions,
are you, Mr Painter?

You might have told me

the bloody Reading Club were
investing in the stock market.

Why?

I wouldn't have told you so much
about my work, that's why.

Darling, that City gossip goes
in one ear and out the other.

Anyway, it's not your financial
prowess I'm interested in.

I've got 23 minutes.

Get away! Go!

The cause of death,
is it what you thought?

Yes. Her skull was fractured
by multiple blows to the head.

How many blows?
Six or seven.
It was a frenzied attack.

But look at these bruises
on the upper arms.

They're identical.
Finger marks.

See, she was held from behind
like this. Very tightly.

And all the blows came from behind?

It looks like there were
two assailants.

One held her while the other
beat her to death

with her own walking-stick.

Coffee?

I wanted to ask you about
Mrs Empson's dodgy hip.

She was due to have a replacement
next month.

Hence the walking-stick.

Yes, she couldn't get very far
without it.

I believe you drove through
the village yesterday evening.

I'm on the committee
of the golf club.

I attended an incredibly boring
meeting there, had some supper,

drove back to village
and went to bed.

After the meeting broke up,

Ginny and I were talking about
Marjorie's garden party

and Marjorie had upset Ginny
in some way or other.

Did they argue at the meeting?

No, it was all very good-humoured
as usual.

Though I had noticed some tension
between the two in the past.

Marjorie didn't think Ginny
was really PLU.

Sorry. What's PLU.?

People Like Us.

And I think Ginny resented that.

People can be extraordinarily
sensitive.

And Mrs Bradshaw was home
before you, was she?

Yes. She was already in bed
when I got home

I'm sorry James, surgery
hasn't started yet.

It's not you I'm after, Rupert.

It's my young friend here,
the wallpaper expert.

Can you remember what Ginny said
to you about Marjorie?

She was going on about how rude
Marjorie was and so on,

then she said - and I remember this
because I was quite taken aback -

she said,

"One of these days I'm going to tell
that woman what I really think

"and she won't know
what's hit her."

Mrs Bradshaw, can I ask you

what are the investments
of the Reading Club worth?

At yesterday's count,
about 150,000 pounds.

All the paperwork is at Marjorie's.

DOOR KNOCKS
Sorry, sir. Something's come up.

There. One of the dogs found it.

Mrs Empson's silver
by the look of it.

Who's house is this?

Do you know, I'm not entirely sure.

I think you'll find
it's Ginny Sharp's place, sir.

Bit of a trek from Chetwood House,
isn't it, sir?

Yes. If Doctor Bradshaw
and my dear wife had their way,

I'd never leave the house.

"You must rest," they say.

But I need the open air.
Good for the soul.

A piece of cloth soaked in petrol
was shoved under the wheel arch,

here, by the petrol tank.

How was it lit?

Match, cigarette lighter.

A kid could've done it.

Just bad luck the driver got into
the car when he did.

Here.

What's that?

The remains of the cloth. It was
blown clear when the tank went up.

Looks like toweling, a bit of towel.

There's some letters there.

You see what they are Troy?

The Feathers.

The Feathers Hotel?

James would be terribly upset
if he knew I was meeting you here.

You're not having second thoughts,
are you?

No, of course not.

Because when I want something
I usually get it

and I want Chetwood House.

It's going to be an awful wrench
for James.

Look, people like me come along,
plenty of money and lots of ideas,

and we keep the traditions alive.

Chetwood House will prosper.

There'll be trout in the lake
and pheasant in the woods,

and a roof that doesn't leak.
And you'll have stacks of cash.

I know.

Don't often see you in a skirt
and make-up, Lavinia.

Not unattractive, actually.

They have excellent rooms here.

Instead of shaking hands
on the deal, we could, you know...

Really, Selwyn. Certainly not.

No harm in asking. I always do.

You'd be surprised
how often it works.

What is it?

See that indentation?
It was made recently.

And the other one.

Made during the struggle?

Yes, by Marjorie Empson's
walking-stick, I reckon.

Which could be how the pictures
and vases got smashed.

She must have put up
a hell of a fight.

A 70-year-old woman with
a dodgy hip against two assailants?

We're missing something here, Troy.

How about the paperwork
that was in the safe?

It's to do with the Reading Club
investments.

Statements and cheque books
and, you know.

No, I don't know.

Stuff to do with shares.

Is that from the business section
of 'The Hawk', Troy?

I made a list of the companies
they had shares in.

And where are they?

Where are what?

The share certificates
or whatever they're called.

Not sure.

I'm trying to find someone at the
nick who understands all this stuff.

All this stuff.

MOBILE RINGS
Troy.

Yeah?

Right. Yeah. OK. Thanks.

Sir! Door-to-door have turned up
a witness.

Someone was seen in the village
late on Monday night.

Can they identify them?

Don't know yet. But Harry
the Poolman's alibi checks out.

He was in the pub
till gone midnight.

But there is something else.
Yeah?

Harry does have form.

For embezzlement.

He used to work in the City.

I was expecting you.

I was a currency trader.
Big pay cheques, big bonuses.

But I was stupid.

Instead of buying a Ferrari
and sipping too much champagne,

I played the stock market.
And?

I lost. Big time.

But that wasn't the stupid bit.

The stupid bit was using
other people's money

when I ran out of my own.

But I've paid my debt to society.
No more deals for this boy.

No? So what's all this about then?

I have to follow the market,
read the business pages.

It's just a habit.

Doesn't sound very healthy to me.

I don't know what you want from me,
Inspector.

But I'm a white collar criminal.

I don't go round bashing up
old ladies for their silver.

What do you think of that?

It looks like someone's
share portfolio.

It's the Reading Club's portfolio,
actually. What do you think?

Well, it's an interesting mix.

Lots of blue chip stuff,
very conservative,

plus a few wild cards.

What does that mean?

Small companies that suddenly
went through the roof.

A merger here, a buy-out there.

It looks like the ladies
timed it beautifully.

Perhaps they had inside information.
In Midsomer Market?

Tamsin Proctor for instance?
She's married to a stockbroker.

Is she?

Alright, Harry.

Can we drop
the 'I'm just the poolman,

'what should I know about it?' act.

If you don't help me
that's your choice.

But I'll take you in for questioning

and I'll get forensics to turn
this little hideaway inside out

just for the fun of it.
Hey, don't get bent out of shape.

If Tamsin got inside information
from her husband,

and that is a big if,

I don't think she'd pass it on.
Why not?

Because she's not like that.

You've got a soft spot for Tamsin,
haven't you?

Yeah.

She's one of the good guys.
But she's got problems.
Like what?

Come with me.

Here.

These started turning up in the pool
a few weeks back, one at a time.

Did you show them to her?
Yeah.

She said it must be the kids
next door

and that I should
throw them back.

Why didn't you?

There aren't any kids next door.

That family moved out
over a year ago.

What's that?

That is nothing.

It's a dead-end.

Is it an anagram?

I was hoping it would be
but no luck.

There's an E missing, obviously.

Why did you really want to sell
your shares?

I've told you everything I know.

You may have been the last person
to see Marjorie Empson alive.

Sooner or later you'll
have to tell someone the truth,

and it might as well be us.

The truth. Wouldn't that be nice?

Who's Maureen?

What?

Maureen. Who is she?

It's me. I'm Maureen.

Where I come from,

if you don't get out young,
you don't get out at all.

And I almost blew it.

How do you mean?

I got pregnant.

They took the baby away from me
in hospital

because I said I didn't want it.

'Cause I thought that it would
hold me back.

Hold you back from what?

All this.

I was destined for better things

and I didn't want a baby in tow.

So...

..Maureen became Tamsin.

I learnt how to dress,
how to talk.

I learnt how to read a menu.

I worked hard, and it paid off.

I met Selwyn.

Did you tell him about your baby?

God, no!

He'd have never married me if I had.

But...

..I wanted my baby back.

It was like an ache
that wouldn't go away.

Then I got a letter
about a month ago.

Peter's foster parents
wanted to adopt him legally.

So suddenly there wasn't any time.

That's why I wanted to sell
my shares.

I don't understand. You're married
to a very rich man.

Selwyn's a control freak.

I have to negotiate
for every penny.

When Marjorie Empson told me
about the club

I jumped at the chance because

I thought that I could make enough
money to leave Selwyn.

Have you told anyone
about your baby?

No. Not a soul.

Because someone knows.

Well, it doesn't matter now,

because I'm never going to get
my baby back.

I hear you found Marjorie Empson's
silver.

Yes.
Say 'Ah'.

Outside Ginny Sharp's house.
And again.

Aaaaah.

You've got to stop it, James.

Everyone knows that Ginny Sharp
likes to sunbathe in the nude

and people are beginning to talk

about your rambles
along the bridle path.

Yes, well she's such
a gorgeous creature.

Not the sort of woman
I'd ever stand a chance with.

And never will.

Grow up, James.

You've got Lavinia. You're lucky.

Yes, fat lot of good she is.

I don't know
what she's playing at lately.

She was out all day yesterday.

When I asked her where she'd been,
she just mumbled and blushed

and fled my presence.
(CLEARS THROAT)

What about my throat?
Perfectly alright.

It can't be.

Stay away from Ginny Sharp's house,
James.

You'll only get into trouble.

Next, please.
Mr Baker.

Lord Chetwood.

Is everything alright?

No, it isn't actually.

Your husband no longer
takes me seriously

and my wife seems to have
deserted me.

What do you mean, Lord Chetwood?

She is either up on the roof
or out cavorting I know not where.

Sometimes, you know, I think I might
be better off without her.

Good day, Sandra.

The witness saw someone hurrying
through here about 10:30.

They were heading towards the gate
over there.

It's a shortcut
through to Hollybank Lane.

Can they identify who it was?

No, it was too dark.

But there are only three houses
in Hollybank Lane.

That's empty.

Kids are at school,
the parents are in Switzerland.

The elderly couple who live there
are on a cruise,

which just leaves the Lodge
down at the far end.

Where Ginny Sharp lives.

I've already told you.

I had an early supper
and went to bed.

Someone was seen taking a shortcut
through the churchyard at 10:30.

What's that got to do with me?

We have a witness says
it was you, Mrs Sharp.

Alright. Yes, it was me.

Where had you been?

Marjorie Empson's.

Would you tell us
exactly what happened, please?

I was about to go
to the Reading Club meeting

when a parcel was delivered to me.

It contained a bathrobe
from a hotel.

I go to this hotel occasionally
to meet a friend discreetly.

Who was the parcel from?

It didn't say.

It was scary, like someone
was sending me a message

What did you do after you'd opened
the parcel?

I went to the Reading Club meeting.

Only I didn't pay much attention
because my mind was on the bathrobe

and who might've sent it to me.

And then after the meeting
Marjorie said something to me.

Ginny, I want to pick your brains
about the Gardening Club lunch.

What's the Feathers like?

What?

There was something about the way
she looked at me when she said it

and I thought, My God!
It's you, you old cow.

Did you say anything to her?

No, not in front of the others.

I went home,

had a glass of wine and fumed.

And then I thought, Sod it.

I'm going to confront her.

So I went around to her house and
I got a typically warm welcome.

What on earth do you want?

Are you spying on me, Marjorie?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about the bathrobe.

Bathrobe? What bathrobe?

The bathrobe you sent me.

Have you been drinking?

And then she mentioned Gerald

and that was it
as far as I was concerned.

When you first moved into
this village,

darling Gerald said, "That woman is
going to be nothing but trouble."

That didn't stop him
trying to stick his hand up my skirt

every chance he got.
How dare you.

Gerald's reputation is notorious.

No-one was safe.

Your garden parties were the worst,
when Gerald had been at the Pimms.

'Old Wandering Hands',
we used to call him.

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

She went berserk and
she was trying to hit me.

Then she dropped her stick
and I grabbed her.

She pushed me away

and I almost ripped
one of her sleeves off.

Come on, it's alright.

Marjorie. Are you alright?
Marjorie?

Get out.

Get out of my house.

But she was alright when I left her,
I promise.

I didn't kill Marjorie,
I swear.

Withholding evidence,
that's a serious offence.

Are you going to arrest me?

No, but I'm going to ask you to come
down to Causton Police station

to make a formal statement, please.

Of course. I'll do anything I can
to help.

I want to know who sent me
that bathrobe.

I want to know
who's been spying on me.

I've brought you a mug of tea.

I think my glands are up.

Actually, James,
you're looking rather well.

An illusion, Lavinia,
I can assure you.

Cod liver oil.

I had an interesting conversation
with Selwyn Proctor yesterday.

Poor you.
Seaweed extract.

Actually, I met him for a drink.

You did what?

He made me rather
an interesting proposition.

Oh, Lavinia. I don't think
I want to hear this.

About the house. Vitamin C.

What house?

This house. He wants to buy it.

(GAGS)
Oh, James.

The house needs millions
spending on it.

We'll never raise the money
and Selwyn wants it badly.

You know what he's like.

He'll do it all up

and have shooting weekends
for his business chums

and swan about
like the lord of the manor.

Well, frankly, he's welcome.

What's to become of us?

We'll pay off our debts,

and buy a cottage with a vegetable
patch and have holidays.

Holidays?

We'll go to Paris.
I don't like Paris.

And New York.
New York!

James, please pull yourself
together.

We've got the public
in this weekend

and you've got to make
one of your guided tours.

Would you like me to make you
some eggy bread?

If you're satisfied
this is accurate,

would you sign just there?

That bathrobe that was sent to you,
which hotel was it from?

The Feathers. It's on the London
Road, the other side of Causton.

And the friend you met there,
was that Selwyn Proctor?

Oh, god.

Was it?

Yes.

So it was you passing inside
information to the Reading Club.

How long has this been going on?

Four years.

Selwyn said he'd leave Tamsin
when the time was right.

It's as old as the hills that one,
isn't it?

Indeed it is.

We didn't ask Ginny Sharp what
Mrs Empson was wearing, did we?

Sir?

We assumed she was wearing
her night clothes.

But Ginny said she'd almost torn off
one of Marjorie's sleeves.

There were no rips in the clothes
the body was found in.

Come on, Troy.

OK, that's what she was wearing
when Ginny came round.

I still don't see the significance.

Bullard's theory is that there were
two assailants.

Marjorie Empson was hit repeatedly
from behind,

while someone else held her,
leaving bruises on her upper arms.

Are you saying Bullard is wrong?

I think he's just wrong
about the timing.

Look, what does this blouse tell us?

Ginny Sharp came here
to confront Marjorie Empson.

They argued.

Marjorie attacked Ginny.

Ginny grabbed her by the arms,
leaving the bruises.

And ripping the blouse.

Then Ginny goes,
Marjorie gets changed for bed.

And then someone else turns up,
and that someone else is the killer.

Or Ginny comes back.
No.

I don't think Ginny Sharp's
the murderer.

Why not, sir?
The timing for a start.

Then we come back to the silver.

Why would she get rid of it
over her own garden wall?

No, it could be a crude attempt
to incriminate her.

By someone who knew Ginny had had
a barney with Marjorie that evening.

That...

Very good, Troy.

Thank you, sir.

OPERA PLAYS

Oh, what are you doing here?

RADIO PLAYS

All the lights are on, sir,
and I can hear a radio.

Let's try round the back.

Make the phone call, Troy.

BELL RINGS

Morning, Mrs Proctor.

Thanks, Sandy.
Cheers.

Someone hit her over the head,
then she probably fell in the pool.

Maybe she was already in the pool.

Most of the ashtrays
were still on the bottom.

I think she was retrieving them.

She was only struck once
by the look of it.

Enough to knock her out, I suppose.
So she drowned.

Won't know till I've done
the post-mortem.

What's this ashtray business
all about then, Tom?

It was a message.

Anti-smoking? Seems a bit harsh.

I can't believe it.
Ginny was an excellent swimmer.

We are doing our best
to establish what happened.

You mean it wasn't an accident?

It's too soon to say.

Good god.

Doctor Bradshaw,
could I have a word?

Yes, of course.

Troy?

Are you alright, Mrs Bradshaw?

Yes, thanks. I'm fine.

I'm sorry to have to ask,

but can you remember
what Marjorie Empson was wearing

at the last Reading Club meeting?

Ginny Sharp registered with me
about four years ago

when she moved into the village.

She'd been through a very bad
divorce, she said,

and wanted something
to help her sleep.

Thank you, Mrs Bradshaw.

The other thing I wanted to ask you
about was the Reading Club shares.

What about them?

I've been looking through
the paperwork

and I can't actually, you know,
find them.

I'm afraid I can't help you there.

Marjorie was in charge of the admin.
I just did the sums.

The Feathers Hotel used to be owned
by a patient of mine

and I was there one evening
and saw Ginny in the bar

with Selwyn Proctor.
Did she see you?

Oh, yes.

Anyway, she came to the surgery
a couple of days later

with some minor complaint or other
and started talking about Selwyn.

Can you tell me what she said?

She said it was
all a terrible mistake.

She was going to nip it
in the bud and so on.

I said yes, that's exactly
what she should do.

But she didn't.

Well, no, of course not.

I sit here day after day
telling people to give things up

but they hardly ever do.

You've no idea how discouraging
it is.

These are new, aren't they?

Yes.
What happened to the old ones?

People kept nicking them.

Same with bathrobes and towels,
I imagine.

Ah! The very man we wanted to see.

What the hell do you want?

We wondered if you could tell us
where you were last night.

Are you trying to be funny?

Sergeant Troy does sometimes make
a stab at humour.

This is not one of those occasions.

Have you heard about Ginny Sharp?
No, what about her?

She's dead.

We found her body this morning.

I'm very sorry to hear that.

Of course, I only met her
a couple of times.

We know about your relationship
with her, Mr Proctor.

So where were you last night?

I was at a banquet in the City

with about 400 other people.
Then I stayed at my club.

Lots of people there, too.

Tamsin, my wife, is not
a sophisticated woman.

Her parents died young,
she's no siblings.

In fact,
I'm all she has in the world.

She'd be devastated if she found out
about me and Ginny.

Oh! Hello, Sandra.
I hope I'm not too late.

Any chance of seeing Rupert?
Of course. Go straight in.

Oh! Isn't it awful about Ginny?

Does anyone know what happened?

She was found in her swimming-pool.
The police have already been here.

I think they suspect foul play.

Lady Chetwood's here.

Is there any chance
you could see James later?

He's in an awful state.

What's the problem?

Selwyn Proctor wants to buy
the house.

I've been negotiating with him,

but I hadn't told James because
I knew it would upset him.

And now you have told him?

Yes, yesterday.

And it brought everything on -

the palpitations, the dizzy spells.

And then when we heard the news
about Ginny this morning

he sort of passed out
for a minute or two.

Lavinia, please believe me, there is
absolutely nothing wrong with James.

It's all in his head.

Yes, but that doesn't make it
any easier for him, does it?

You're a saint, Lavinia,
you really are.

Please say you'll come and
see him this afternoon.

Tell him the move will do him good.

I've got to get him out
of the house, for both our sakes.

Of course I'll come.

The roofing people are coming
at 3 o'clock this afternoon

to finish their report for Selwyn
Proctor, so come about 4:00.

I'll be there.

It's the damp I can't stand.

James doesn't seem to notice.

500 years of breeding, Lavinia.
He's damp-proof.

This is Alfred,
my great-great grandfather.

Alfred died when he was 94,

though he spent most of his life
in bed.

He had terrible health problems,
you see.

Funnily enough, I have...

I've found another spot
where the beams are exposed.

Oh, it's you.

I thought you were
the roofing people.

..My heart will beat quite normally
for five minutes or so,

then suddenly...
CRASH

(SCREAMS)

This is where she went over?

Yeah, and Lord Chetwood
was right underneath

with a group of tourists.

They certainly got
their money's worth.

If someone came up here and pushed
Lady Chetwood off the roof,

they could've got back down
those stairs,

got out the back of the house
without anyone seeing them.

Pushed her? Surely she just fell.

I mean, look at it, sir,
it's incredibly dangerous.

I mean, the whole lot looks as if it
could just come down at any minute.

Are you alright?

I told her, the roof's
been up there hundreds of years.

But she would go up there again and
again fussing about.

Do you know what Lady Chetwood
was doing up on the roof, sir?

Waiting for the roofing people,
I expect.

I blame that man Proctor,
it's his fault.

He's got men up there poking
and prodding the roof.

That man will destroy me.

First my car, then the house,
now my wife.

I can't find my zinc tablets.

Lavinia'd know. Oh, Lavinia.

What am I going to do?
What will become of me?

Can I get you a doctor, sir?

No, no. The doctor's on his way.
Doctor Bradshaw.

He'll know what to do.
The doc understands.

Find out why the roofing contractor
didn't turn up, Troy.

Sir.

What's happened?

Lady Chetwood was up on the roof,

and as far as we know,
she slipped and fell.

God.

She was a saint, that woman.

In fact, that's the last thing
I said to her.

When was that, sir?

This morning.

She came to the surgery and told me
that James was in a state.

She asked me to come
and see him

after the roofing contractor
had gone.

Complete waste of time, of course.
Why was that?

Because there's nothing wrong
with him.

The man's as fit as a fiddle,

but his medical records take up
a shelf in the surgery.

And now I'll have to add
another chapter, I suppose.

Medical records, Troy.

What about them, sir?

Full of secrets.

I wonder if Tamsin Proctor was ever
a patient of Doctor Bradshaw's.

Sir.

The roofing contractor had a message
cancelling the meeting

with Lady Chetwood.

Was that a man or woman?

Doesn't know.
He didn't take the call.

So who knew about the appointment?

Apart from Lord Chetwood himself,

only Doctor Bradshaw
as far as I can make out.

Doctor Bradshaw.

If anyone knows what's going on
around here

it'll be Doctor Bradshaw,
won't it?

He may know about Tamsin's
love child

but he does know about Selwyn's
love affair with Ginny Sharp.

We'd better talk to him again, sir.

Yes, so we should.

And we must track down
those Reading Club shares,

something the finest minds
at Causton nick have failed to do.

Is that where they found her?
Yes.

Is that blood?

Concentrate on the paperwork, Harry.

You know, this is all
pretty bog standard stuff -

transaction records, statements,
dividends, tax credits.

What about the shares?

There's no share certificates
if that's what you're looking for.

They've been dealing online.

The shares will be in
a nominee account.

What's a nominee account?

It's like a bank account, only
it's got shares in it, not money.

Could you look that up
on the computer?

Yeah, we've got the account number

but the chances are there's going
to be some sort of password.

There you are. Try.

OK. Here we are.

'Enter password'.

Just as I thought. Sorry, folks.
Game over.

Try 'Gerald'.

'Gerald'?

'Gerald.'

OK, 'Gerald' it is.

Hey. Hole in one.

You should be a detective.

According to this,
the account's closed.

What do you mean?

It's been sold up.

The entire Reading Club portfolio
has been converted to cash.

Well, that's it.

Marjorie Empson stole the money.

Somebody found out and killed her.

No, it can't have been her.

This account was closed yesterday.

Someone sent me this.

I thought it must be a mistake.

So I phoned the hotel.

Apparently, I called them and
asked them to send me a bathrobe.

They were only too happy to oblige
such a valued customer.

Oh, and they said they were looking
forward to seeing us tomorrow.

We can have our usual room.
Isn't that nice?

That particular situation
is over.

Cheer up, Selwyn.

There'll be another. And another.

Only I won't be around to see it,
thank God.

What do you mean?

You can give that to the other Mrs
Proctor. I'm leaving you.

You're my wife, Tamsin.
For better or worse. Remember?

Get out of my way, Selwyn.

No. I have invested heavily in you

and I don't allow my investments
to walk away.

Let her go.

Get out of my house.

I'm younger than you and I'm
stronger than you so let her go.

Thank you, Harry.

That's a pleasure, Mrs Proctor.

You're fired.
Too late. I resigned.

Don't expect to be paid
this month's bill.

That's alright. In fact,
I owe you.

What do you mean?

This is by way of thanks,
your commission.

Thank you
for Apex Pharmaceuticals.

Thank you for
Treetime Communications.

And thank you
for China Seas Bank.

Cheers, Selwyn. You've been a pal.

With you in a minute, sir.

DOCTOR: Come in.

Can I have a word please?
Yes.

Where's Mrs Bradshaw?

Gone up to Chetwood House
to cook lunch for his lordship.

Amazing how men like that always
find someone to mother them.

AUDIO FEED: I'd like to ask you,
Doctor Bradshaw,

was Tamsin Proctor a patient
of yours.

Yes.

Did you know her by her other name,
Maureen Carter?

Yes, I did.

It was a typical bureaucratic
cock-up.

Tamsin Proctor had two sets
of medical records

under different names.

So yes, I knew about her child,
but I didn't tell anyone.

Frankly, I'd prefer not to hear most
of what gets said in this room.

Take that idiot James Chetwood,
for example.

What about him?

He confessed to me ages ago that
he had a crush on Ginny Sharp.

Then I hear gossip in the village
that he's been spying on her.

What am I supposed to do
about that?

I'm a doctor
not a social worker.

Is that switched off,
Doctor Bradshaw?

Yes.

The switch has been by-passed.
It's permanently on.

You can hear everything
through there.

Sorry, I don't understand.

James?

James, where are you?
In here.

Doctor Bradshaw,

on the night Marjorie Empson
was murdered,

you told us your wife was already
in bed when you got home.

Did you actually see her in bed?

Doctor Bradshaw?

No, I didn't.

I assumed she was in bed.
I saw a light under her door.

Ever since we moved here
10 years ago,

my wife has insisted we sleep
in separate rooms.

I find it very shaming.

I prefer people
not to know about it.

Troy?
Sir?

Good work.
Thank you, sir.

Hello, James.

Sandra, I didn't recognise you.

What have you got there? Lunch?

Just a few things.

I've moved out.

Moved out of what?

And I've brought money.

Look.

There's lots.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

At long last, we can put
our plan into action.

What plan?

You made your feelings clear to me
10 years ago when we first met.

My feelings?
I know you care for me, James.

My dear good woman, you are
labouring under a massive delusion.

Together we'll restore Chetwood
House to its former glory

and I can nurse you back to health,
James.

Let's face it, dear Lavinia wasn't
up to much in the nursing stakes.

Lavinia?

Something had to be done and
I was happy to do it.

Do what? What do you mean?

She was driving you
out of your home.

You said to me yourself, you would
be better off without her.

Do you mean that...

..We'll move into the east wing,
I think.
Oh, my god.

It'll be easier to keep warm
in the winter.
Poor Lavinia.

I've been waiting 10 years
for this, James.

I'm not going to give up now.

Get away from me.

It's alright, James.
I'm going to take you in hand.

Mrs Bradshaw?

Oh, thank god.

Sandra...

..you can come with me now.

Is Lord Chetwood expecting you?

Let's start with the car,
Mrs Bradshaw.

The car?

Selwyn Proctor's car.

You mean James's car.

Selwyn Proctor cheated him
out of it.

Someone had to stand up for James,
and I was only too happy to do it.

By setting fire to the car?

I was merely making a point.

Tell us what happened at the meeting
of the Reading Club.

There's nothing to tell.
It was the same as usual.

But you went back to Marjorie
Empson's later that night?

Why did you go back, Sandra?
To make a point?

Yes.

I did all the Reading Club
donkey work

and Marjorie Empson
took the credit.

And I had to endure
Marjorie's endless jokes

about my father being a bookmaker.

Still, you have to rub along with
people,

that's what village life
is all about.

But that Reading Club meeting
was the last straw.

Why, what happened?

I discovered that I was the only one
who hadn't been invited

to Marjorie's garden party.

I was left out for the first time
in 10 years.

After all the work I'd done
for the village.

Did you say anything?

Certainly not.

I went home and thought about it.

I thought, alright,
if I'm not wanted, I'll resign.

So I went to inform
Marjorie of my decision.

I heard raised voices
from inside the cottage.

It was Marjorie arguing
with Ginny Sharp.

I saw Marjorie try to hit Ginny
with her stick.

Shut up! Shut up!

I waited until Ginny had gone.

Marjorie went upstairs so I went
round to the back of the house.

I let myself in through
the French windows.

What's going on?

Sandra, how did you get in here?

I'm resigning from the Reading Club,
Marjorie.

You've come round here,
in the middle of the night,

to tell me that?

And when I move into Chetwood House,
you will not be welcome there.

When you what?

You heard.

(LAUGHS)

My God.

You're serious.

So Mrs Empson was lying there
at your feet.

It wasn't my fault she fell down
the stairs.

You picked up her stick, didn't you,
Sandra?

She should never have said it.

What was it she said?

Bookie's daughter.

She gave me no choice.

And Ginny Sharp.
Did she give you a choice?

She was flaunting herself
in front of my poor James.

Ginny Sharp was a wicked woman.

I had to warn her off
for James's sake.

She came out while I was there.

So I thought I might as well speak
to her directly.

What are you doing here?

I want to talk to you.
What about?

Lord Chetwood. I'm warning you,
Ginny. Stop pursuing him.

Me? Pursuing James?

(LAUGHS)

That's the best laugh I've had
in weeks.

You are brilliant, darling.

Give me a hand.

That's fantastic.

Tell us about Lady Chetwood,
Mrs Bradshaw.

Poor James, no wonder his health
was failing.

Lavinia was a dear friend

but she didn't have the first idea
about looking after him.

She came to the surgery
and told Rupert

that Selwyn Proctor had made
an offer for Chetwood House

behind James's back.

GARBLED AUDIO: Selwyn Proctor
wants to buy Chetwood House

I've been negotiating with him.

But I know it will upset James.

DOCTOR: Have you told him?
Yesterday.

Please come and see him this
afternoon.

The roofing people are coming at
3:00 so come after 4:00.

She mentioned the appointment
with the roofing contractor

so I cancelled it.

I drove up to Chetwood House.

James was showing
some tourists around.

I found Lavinia on the roof.

I want a word with you, Lavinia.

Well, fire away. Is it about
the Reading Club?

No, it's about James.

James? My James?

Yes.

We've had plans to be together
for some time, you see,

and we thought it only fair
to tell you.

Plans?

Yes.

Oh, Sandra, dear.

Are you feeling alright?

Perfectly alright, thanks.

And as for Tamsin Proctor.

That frightful husband of hers
was going to install her

at Chetwood House.

With her background.
Can you imagine?

But I think you'll find I've put
a stop to that, too.

Interview terminated - 16:52.

James will come round to my way
of thinking in the end.

I know he will.

I don't mind waiting.

Moving on, are we, Harry?

Yeah.

I've had it with swimming-pools.

It's been a learning curve though,
I'll say that.

Oh yeah, and what have you learnt?

The bigger your swimming-pool,
the less time you have to use it.

That's deep.

He's good, isn't he, eh?

Yes, he is. So what's next, Harry?

Well, I haven't been entirely honest
with you, Inspector.

Oh, really?

And I feel bad about it.

You see, when I said that I'd given
up the stock market,

well, I hadn't.

Couple of years ago I got chatting
to Tamsin

and I told her what I used to do.

She told me about the Reading Club
and asked my advice.

I just couldn't resist, could I?

Inside information, that.

She didn't know I was using it.
She's straight.

So I've made a bit of money.

Everything's packed away in here.

We're going to see if we can
get her boy back just for starters.

It's going to be a change
of lifestyle for you, isn't it?

Downsizing, they call it,
don't they, Harry?

Anyway, I've had enough
of big houses.

Well, for the time being.

I hope it works out for you.
Thank you.

Oh, sorry to hear about your
pension, by the way.

What do you mean? They've been
cleared of malpractice, haven't they?

"Floods hit Central Asia".

Yeah, what's that got to do with
my pension?

They've had to close
the microchip factories.

That's where the spotty youths
who run your pension

have been sending
your hard-earned cash.

Still, try not to worry too much.

What goes down
sometimes comes back up.

Funny thing happened the other day,
sir.

Go on, Troy, cheer me up.

Lord Chetwood put me onto this chap.

He's a collector.
He collects comics.

Really?

He phoned and asked about
'The Hawk'.

I've got them all, from the first
issue, in really good condition.

Anyway, this collector
wants to buy them.

You'll never guess
how much he's offered.

It's amazing.

Go on, sir. Have a guess.