All language subtitles for Midsomer.Murders.S08E02.Dead.in.the.Water.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

Oh

The world and his wife's here.

It's kind of the idea, Dad.

Couple of drinks, then,
you won't notice them.

That's the sort of thing,
Tom, when you may be

more old-fashioned and stylish.

That'll be it.

Your mother thinks I need to relax more.

Weekends on the river,
our own boat, perhaps.

It's a good idea.

Do you know there's loads
for sale in the local paper?

It's just a conspiracy.

In my job, you get 10 years for that.

Attention!

Right, the home team, furthest from us,

Midsomer Rowing Club veterans.

They're not veterans.

They're half our age, Joyce.

ANNOUNCER SYSTEM SYSTEM

Opulence down!

Take it out, that's right.

What the hell is that?

Daddy?

Daddy, you all right?

We play!

It's all in the water.

I know there's something
in the bloody water.

It's a map!

Oh, my God, it's Guy!

It's Sweetman!

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Gentlemen, Mr. Parkway, Mr. Trent,

I'd like to see all
the rowing stopped, please.

Suspended until further notice.

Invite them all to a longer lunch.

-That should go down well.
-Now, look here, Inspector.

Sweetman was a friend of mine,
a damn good one.

But the last thing
he'd want is for his death

to get in the way of this regatta.

We've got a hell
of a program to get through.

I think what he means,
Inspector, is that, well,

like you, we have a duty to perform

to the 4,000 or so people
who've come for a day out.

Why should a piffling little murder
get in the way of that?

Precisely.

Murder?

Are you sure?

Well, I don't think he hit himself
on the head, Mr. Trent.

Don't worry, you'll get your regatta

back as soon as possible.

I'm taking him back to the lab, Tom.

Any initial thoughts?

Yes, he's dead.

Who is he, anyway?

He is Guy Ernest Sweetman, chairman

of the Midsomer Rowing Club,
wherever that is.

I was just past the starting line.

Sir.

-All right.
-You may go.

Chief Inspector Barnaby?

Claire Bonavita, rowing club treasurer.

The boys tell me it was murder.

I can hardly believe it.

Your friend or relative, Mrs. Bonavita?

Friend.

You know, Guy really did
live up to his surname.

He was the sweetest man.

Well, the lover killed him,
disagreed with him.

Yes.

Yes, some irate husband
or jealous boyfriend, no doubt.

Anyone particular in mind?

Well, no.

Guy didn't so much play the field
as the entire countryside.

Where did he live, ma'am?

Morton Shallows.

Thank you, Mrs. Bonavita.

Right, we'll do the club first
and then this house.

What about the press?

-Press?
-Avoid them.

Uh, Mrs. Bonavita, could we borrow
one of your regetta launches?

Can't this boat go any slower, Sergeant?

That's the beauty of river boats, sir.

They slow life down,
give you time to think.

You sound like my wife.

I'll get the drinks, then, Inspector.

♪♪

If your good friend
has just been murdered, Scott,

will you look so cheerful about it?

♪♪

Dad!

People are saying it's Sweetman.

Oh, is it true?

Yeah.

No wonder we haven't seen him
for a couple of days.

Look, don't worry.

Police are on their way.

Quick tidy up at Guy's office
might not go unless, eh?

-Yeah.
-Good idea, Jimmy.

I'm sorry, Hetty. I really am.

No, you're not, Dad.

You're over the moon.

Sorry, Inspector,
you can't get the drinks in after all.

-What'll it be?
-Ah, nothing for us, thank you.

Come meet my daughter, Hetty.

Het, Chief Inspector Barnaby.

How do you do?

-And he's, uh?
-Sergeant, Sergeant Scott.

Sergeant.

Mr. Trent, how well
did you know Sweetman?

Rode together at Oxford,
um, kept up the friendship.

You'd be the one to know
about his private life then,

wouldn't you?

Guy's private life is the
most public affair, Inspector.

Sweetman was a serial philanderer.

Swore that every woman he met was
a new love of his life.

The latest was called Sandra.

Is she here today?

Um, no, not as far as I can see.

But then he has
been keeping her under wraps.

Why?

Well, I imagine he was scared
we might spill the beans.

Past loves and all that.

Yes, you see, um, strangely enough,

I think Sandra was a bit special.

Even mentioned marriage at one point.

Most odd.

Did you know him at all, Miss Trent?

Uh, uh, no, not really.

Been any help, Inspector?

Oh, most things people
tell us are of help, Mr. Trent,

even if they don't mean them to be.

Where can I find you
if I need more help?

Hmm, well, uh, here during the day,

Seven Seas Restaurant in the evenings.

I take it Mr. Sweetman had an office

here being club chairman?

Yes, would you care to look it over?

Sergeant Scott would love to.

Hm.

The results of that decompetition

have carried the gunfire.

It's upstairs, Sergeant.

Thank you.

Sir.

Oh, I'd like a coffee, please,
if you've got one on the go.

Coffee and a chat.

Oh, I'm Detective
Chief Inspector Barnaby

from Causton CID.

Vic Linton, sir.

How do you do?

One coffee coming up.

Thank you.

He has a very organized chart, this guy.

Yeah, well, you'd need to be
with a lifestyle like his.

Did your daughter have a thing with him?

Petty?

Why do you say that?

Well, my boss out
there would call it copper's nose.

Old fashioned, you see.
I can't help it.

Anyway, did she?

Well, I think there was
some sort of, yeah.

There you go, then.

and never trust a man with a tiny desk.

Might I give you the benefit
of my observation, sir?

I was hoping for that.

This murder has nothing
to do with the chairman's

extra-mural activities.

It's about something
much closer to home.

You're not going to
leave it there, surely?

More downstream from here is a boat

called the Arabella,
belonging to Mr. Philip Trent.

He, Mr. Parkway, and the chairman

had taken to meeting aboard her
every Friday evening.

Last Friday.

words. what an argument?
a definite rumpus

sir. which I myself heard.
what time was that?

about 11. it being quiet here I'd taken

a stroll along the towpath. as I passed

the boat I heard the chairman
being verbally abused

along the lines of the

Christ sakes guy you
never could be relied

upon and how dare you let us down

at the last minute.
there was even after all

the work we've done I could bloody

kill you verbatim.
who'd done most of the shouting?

mr. Trent sir as per usual and I

say this not because his credit here is

under review I say it
because it is true.

all the same he's got a
large slate is that what

you mean he's got a large slate?

how much? that would be a confidence too

far sir. so Sweetman left the scene.

did Parkway and Trent go back on board?

yes yes they did. did what? I had a

feeling in the way of these things that

someone else was below decks trying to

keep a low profile.
got any idea who? afraid not sir.

Inspector, is there any
chance we can crank up

the old regatta again?

Yes, yes, um, Sergeant,
would you, in the meantime,

can we have a couple
of chicken sandwiches, please?

Allow me, Barnaby.

Any members can pay.

Uh, yeah, usual for me, Vic.

And, um, stick it all on my slate.

Serve myself.

It seems there was
some sort of row last Friday

on board Trent's boat.

Keeps it moored downriver.

My sweet man, Parkway and,
uh, Trent, they all fell out.

I quite easily fall
out with Trent myself, sir.

Yeah, and you probably will.

What's the make of Parkway?

I haven't formed an opinion.

I bet you the other half of this ferry

warmed the, um,
the parkway that a sweep of Sweetman

office very soon after we arrived.

I saw that.

Linton reckons there's probably
a fourth person on board.

He's got no idea who.

They've been meeting on board
that boat every Friday

night for the last two months.

But why on the boat?

Why not in the clubhouse?

I'm with Mrs. Bonavita on this one, sir.

I think there's an
angry husband or jealous

boyfriend somewhere.

Possibly an angry father.

Hetty Trent is also one of Sweetman, uh,

what's the posh word?

Conquests.

Well, she seems to be over it now.

Help me.

Remember what I told you, Henry.

Long and strong and keep your focus.

When you go past him, no settling back.

Thanks, coach.

Midsomer's answer to
Steve Redgrave, Inspector.

You his coach?

You sound surprised.

Well, the truth is I had no option.

Getting Parkway or Trent
or even poor Guy

fired up enough to help was
a losing battle.

I'm told they didn't all see
eye to eye on certain matters.

Really?

Such as?

Well, I'm open to suggestion.

Do you know of any reason why
they should have fallen out?

If I were you, Inspector, I'd take what

Vic Linton tells

you with a pinch of salt.

Barmen, Mrs. Bonavita,
they know all the gossip.

Attention!

Come on, Henry!

...three of the men's singles stars.

Representing Tide Beach
is Stephen Sitwell,

and for mid-summer
we have Henry Charlton.

Go on, Henry!

Come on!

Go on, Henry!

Hello? It's Vic, again.

Any sign of Sandra?

And no message from her.

Uh, no, no, it's okay.
You're probably right.

She stopped off somewhere.

I'll phone again tomorrow.

Sandra, sir, the
girlfriend Vic Linton mentioned.

There are no records of her
in any of the usual databases.

That's CRO, voters register, or the NHS.

Unless we find her quick, Scott, she's

either a main suspect or
another victim, in which case

she'll bob up somewhere downriver

the next couple of days.
You got anything else?

Yeah, according to the custody sergeant,

Claire Bonavita was also
one of Sweetman conquests.

Was she?

This time last year,
her husband, Freddie,

threatened to kill him.
Made a start by belting him on the jaw.

And waited a year to finish the job?

All the same, you do
wonder why our friendly barman

didn't mention it.

Confidence too far.

Right then.

He was killed about 2,500 meters
from where he was found.

And that's based on time in the water,

rate of flow, weight of body.

He was struck on the head twice
by a piece of local stone.

Here are the bits.

Then he was dragged to the water's edge

and held under till he drowned.

Dragged through long grass
from the state of his shoes.

So where are we talking about?

I guess it's Morton Shallows,
in his house.

The next question is, when?

Any time between 10 PM Friday
and 4 AM Saturday.

That's just after the row
aboard Arabella.

Right, Scott.

Thanks too much.

Get a team to Morton Shallows.

The whole length of the village.

If there's any signs
of struggle along the riverside,

people who saw anything,
the murder weapon.

I do know the drill, sir.

Typical family day out, really.

We arrive somewhere,
and 10 minutes later,

a serious crime is committed.

Exit the old man.

I think he plans it that way.

And he took the car.

Come on, we'll walk
to Morton Fendle and take the bus.

But that one would
be too modern for your father.

He'll want brass
and mahogany everywhere.

Like that one, for example.

It's a bit tatty, Mum.

Nothing a coat of varnish won't cure.

Oh, good evening, ladies.

Yeah, fuck it all.

Do you think he heard us?

No.

You said 7 o'clock.

It's 10 past.

Oh, well spotted, I think.

Have a drink.

I'd rather get down to business, Trent.

Right.

I was going to suggest,
the Sweetman death

is a blessing in disguise.

In what way?

It means we can carry
on as if nothing had happened.

All right, that'll get you going.

See you in a bit.

I reckon he was killed somewhere
down this path to the river, sir.

There's blood on the grass
and gouges in the mud,

presumably where he was dragged.

Any murder weapon?

That would be in the river,
I should think, sir.

Should we call the divers?

Um, no, not yet.

Which is Sweetman house?

This one here, sir.

You're going to love his
next door neighbor.

This is the gentleman
I was telling you about, Mrs. Sharpe,

Chief Inspector Barnaby.

Oh, yes.

Ask me anything you like, Inspector.

Guy and I were great friends.

Mrs. Sharpe, did you know a girlfriend?

Lady friend.

Mr. Sweetman, called Sandra.

Oh, yes.

Yes, we were great friends, too.

Only we're having a bit
of a problem finding her.

Do you know where she lives
or where she works, perhaps?

No, no, no, I don't.

But she did tell me
where her parents live.

Oh, funny name.

It'll come to me during
the day, I bet you.

Can you tell us how old she is,
Mrs. Sharpe?

Well, that's hard to say.

She could be more 30 than 40.

I'm not very good with ages, or heights,

if you're going to ask me that.

Taller than I am, shorter than you.

Did she visit here often?

Oh, yes.

She moved in with Guy
about two weeks ago,

then moved out again.

When?

Friday, Friday afternoon.

At least, I think it was Friday.

Well, thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Sharpe.

If Sandra comes back,
could you give me a call, please?

It's my card.

-Thank you.
-Thank you.

Claire Bonavita said the sweepman
lived up to his name.

Pretty Mrs. Sharpe
doesn't live up to hers.

Classic little black book, sir.

It's going to make interesting reading.

How do we get across, Sergeant?

Well, one of us is going
to have to row, sir.

The smart man is on me.

Don't dip the oar so deeply, Sergeant.

You're rowing, not plowing.

Henry, show him how it's done.

Any news about Guy, Inspector?

I gather he was
killed sometime on Friday.

I saw him that afternoon.

When exactly was that?

Five-ish.

He came over on regatta business.

How did he seem?

Was he worried or distracted?

No.

No, he was his usual flirtatious self.

Come on up to the house.

-I'll make us some coffee.
-Thank you.

Actually, Mrs. Bonavita,
it isn't you we've come to see.

It's your husband.

Freddie?

Oh.

Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck.

He's gone to our villa in Malta.

Oh, has he?

And when will he be back?

I'm afraid he won't.

Oh, don't worry, Inspector.

It's been a perfectly amicable split.

But we have decided to call it a day.

When did he leave?

Um, Friday morning.

Why do you ask?

Because he once threatened
to kill Sweetman.

Oh, Freddie threatens to kill everyone

when he's had a few drinks.

I take it you are referring
to the punch-up at the club.

Yes, I am.
I imagine you were the reason for it.

You being one of Guy's, um, conquests.

That's a word my sergeant is using.

A diplomatic of him.

Well, all I can say is that Guy and I

separated well over a year ago.

And was that an amicable split too?

Very.

There is one other thing you could

help us with, Mrs. Bonavita.

Perhaps you could tell us
why Guy and Philip

Trent and John Parkway
had taken to meeting on board

the Arabella most Fridays.

I think they were using it
as some sort of committee room.

Why not the club?

Well, knowing those three, they probably

went on into the small hours
regatta business.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Bonavita.

Thank you for your time.

No coffee?

Yeah, no thanks.

Must rush.

Can you tell me where
I can find Mr. Parkway?

Uh, if he's not on regatta duty,
try him at home.

It's 8 the Maltings, Morton Fendle.

Thank you.

Heh heh.

Huh.

♪♪

I hope I'm not lying
for you in vain, Freddie.

You didn't do it for me, Claire.

You did it for yourself.

You don't want them keeping me
here in England.

I'm sure Henry doesn't either.

All Henry cares
about is becoming a champion.

I can make that happen for him
if I can just keep him focused.

Well, as soon as I've gathered
all my documents,

I'll be off and you can focus together
as much as you like.

By the way, as much
as I dislike Sweetman,

I didn't kill him.

Hats off to whoever did that.

Come on, Midsomer!

Attention!

All right, come on, John!

Come on, Midsomer! Morning, Hetty!

Come on, Midsomer!

Come on, Midsomer!

Dad, I've been meaning to ask,
have you found a house yet?

Um, no.

No, the old regatta's rather gotten
in the way of all that.

You still happy at the flat?

Very, yeah.

I was just thinking
about going on holiday

for a couple of weeks,
if that's all right.

Well, absolutely, yes.

Bit of a problem, though, the usual one.

Oh, blimey, yes.

I mean, what do you do with it all?

Same as everyone else, Dad.

Spend it.

How much this time?

Well, 800 would cover it.

Bloody hell, I should hope so.

Where are you going?

Well, I was going to go to Bali,

but I don't know if you're going
to be stingy about it.

No, no, it's just, well,
things have been a bit tight lately.

Well, the Arabella tarting up,

and, well, your mother's
been gnashing her teeth again.

Oh, Dad, well, tell her to shove it.

Her new boyfriend's loaded.

Yes, he also happens to be a solicitor.

Oh, well, leave it with me.

I'll, I'll sort something out.

Thanks, Dad.

The Maltings. Very nice too.

Hello, Mr. Barnaby.

Good morning.

Hey!

Oh, that's an ex-pupil of mine.

I lent him some money and,
well, goodness

his word, he's paid me back.

Money for what?

For the bike.

Come in, please.

Thank you.

What's his name?

David.

David Cook, with an E.

You got an address for him?

Save me looking one up.

Why, don't you believe what I've just?

No, I don't know where he lives.

Please.

Um, he works at Midsomer Sawmills,
up at Morton Woods.

A terrible thing about Guy.

Yeah.

The last man who deserved it,
in spite of his faults.

Tell me about his faults.

Well, actually,
only the one that I'm aware of, women.

There was a row on board the Arabella
on Friday night.

Four of you fell out.

You make it sound like a real bust-up.

We only had a f- Besides,
there weren't four of us, only three.

Myself, Guy, and Philip Trent.

What was the row about?

Oh, well, Guy had forgotten
to recall last year's trophy,

so some of them
won't be presented on Saturday.

Something of nothing, really.

I mean, the club has always
been immensely proud of its attention

to detail, but, well,
I guess we overreacted.

It's hardly a hanging offense.

Or his murder, Mr. Parkway.

But it isn't quite
so easily glossed over, is it?

Teacher, pupil, money-changing hands,
what's all that about?

I don't know.

But whoever the fourth person is,

they're not too keen for us
to know about him or her, are they?

-Yeah, why not?
-Let us into the secret.

Tell us what they're really up to,
because sure as hell,

they didn't fall
out about unreturned trophies, did they?

You rode a good race today, Henry.

Thanks, coach.

I can't say he was that much trouble.

You going out?

-Yeah.
-Just to Causton, a couple of hours.

Who with?

No one in particular.

You should go out too, Claire.

Henry, listen to me.

I never wanted to be
a governor of Causton College,

I was sort of drummed into it,

and I certainly
never thought that I'd find

a champion rower in the making.

Look, it was a lucky
break for me. I mean,

without your support and coaching,
I couldn't have done any of this.

That's part of it, yes,
but the rest is down

to hard work and dedication.

I have worked very hard.

I saw them there today, Olympic scouts,

and they're not here for the beer,
they're looking

for potential champions.

I'm not saying you have
to do a full workout,

but I do think
that you should have a decent meal.

Stay off the booze
and get an early night.

You're the boss, coach.
Early night it is.

Hello? Anyone home?

Come in, Phil.

Well, congratulations, young Henry.

You're having a good show today.

Thank you, Mr. Trent.

What can I do for you, Phil?

Um, well, I'm afraid it's
the same old story, Claire.

But the good news is that Freddie

will be getting it back.

How much does she want this time?

I take it it is for Hettie.

800.

She wants to go on holiday.

Barley.

When I was her age,
I'd never even heard of Barley,

let alone taking a holiday.

Oh, look, I'm not exactly rolling in it

myself at the moment.

Anyway, why does Hettie need a holiday?

It's nothing to do
with Sweetman murder, is it?

How do you mean?

Well, he did dump her rather brutally.

Oh, no, no, hang on, Claire.

I mean, she may be a spoiled brat,

but she's not a murderer.

No, of course not.

Sorry.

♪♪

I don't know why he's doing that.

This is my way
of apologizing for yesterday.

Don't mind if Scott joins us, do you?

I'm trying to domesticate him.

No, not at all.

This way, please.

Henry?

Thank you.

Would you two ladies excuse us
for a minute, please?

What for?

Don't be a sack of promises.

Come on.

Ah, gentlemen.

Mr. Trent, sorry to trouble you, sir.

We're having some difficulty
finding an address for you.

All we get is care
of Midsomer Rowing Club.

Well, that's because I'm
between houses, Sergeant.

Looking, but not finding.

Camping on Arabella, meanwhile.

And working here.

Oh, well, I wouldn't call
this work, Inspector.

No, this is a labor of love.

Keeping my hand in, well, both of them.

Do you take requests?

Yes, yes.

-What would you like to hear?
-Your

explanation of the row aboard Arabella

the night that Sweetman was murdered.

I don't like the way you put
those two things together,

Barnaby.

Guy forgot to recall
the trophies from last year.

Now, it may not seem like much to you,

but the committee
has always been immensely proud

of its attention to detail.

And it was just the three
of you on the boat arguing?

No one else?

Yes, me, Guy, John Parkway.

Thank you, sir.

And it's something they made up,
that story about the trophies.

He was exactly the same
when this was part of it.

You mean they've always been proud
of their attention to detail?

Immensely proud.

I don't like Mr. Trent.

I wonder why.

What's he up to?

Dad, this was supposed
to be a quiet evening

out, family.

Look who that chap is, Cully.

He owns the boat we were looking
at yesterday evening.

You know, Scott,
while he's playing that piano,

I fancy a shufty at the boat.

Won't be long.

Sorry.

That is the biggest mousetrap
I've ever seen.

Thank you.

Bills, credit cards, bank statements.

What does that say to you, Scott?

He's up to his neck in it.

Most of these are at the limit.

And not a sign of an estate
agent's brochure.

Is he really between houses,
or simply homeless?

Come and say hello to the rats, Henry.

They're very friendly.

Rats?

Oh, my god.

Don't be so soft.

They won't hurt you.

You've got rid of most of them, anyway.

All right.

But supposing he comes back
unexpectedly?

I told you.

He's at the restaurant,
slaving away for our holiday money.

Oh, that's another thing.

You can forget about Barley.

Your old man can't afford it.

Who told you that?

Come on.

He came to see
Claire this evening before I left.

Asked her for money.

-She must be loaded.
-They're all doing it.

John Parkway touched her
a couple of times.

Yeah, but he's a teacher.

He's bound to be skint.

I'm on it.

You're going to laugh at this,
but it's the rats.

They're the one creature I can't abide.

I'm not such a tough guy
after all, then.

Fine.

Let's go back to mine.

Sir, you are the luckiest man
I've ever worked for.

Well, let's hope it lasts.

Scott, tomorrow morning,
I want you to go

to Claire Bonavita house.

What for, sir?

Well, if Claire Bonavita
has lent Trenton Parkway money,

she'll know the state
of their finances, won't she?

I'd like to know them, too.

You think it's got
a bearing on the murder?

Scott, two men who are broke have

a row with the third man,
who's dead two hours later.

I see definite possibilities.

Go on.

♪♪

Good morning ladies
and gentlemen, welcome

to semi-finals day.

The opening race is the first semi-final

of the men's single sculls,

representing Midsomer Rowing Club
is Henry Charlton,

Lake 1 and Lake 2 Rows.

♪♪

And reminded of the champagne and beer.

My impression is he's got
a lot of family.

♪♪

Aren't you supposed to be in Malta?

Aren't you supposed to be a policeman,
not a housebreaker?

Your door was open.

Since when is that a reason
to just walk in here?

I tell you what,
we'll answer each other's questions

down at the police station, shall we?

I'm not going to any police station.

Oh, yes, you are.

Of your own free will or under arrest.

And bring your passport.

Why are you going to Malta,
Mr. Bonavita?

Back to my roots.

Those boxes on your living room table,

-are they going with you?
-Business records, nothing more.

Would you like to go through them?

There's only
about 100,000 documents there.

I think we should do that,
given your police records.

What is it?

Fraud, malicious wounding,
ABH, that letter, so serious,

got you five years.

A long time ago.

You run a finance company,
don't you, Mr. Bonavita?

Crusader Holdings.

You ever lent any money to Philip Trent?

John Parkway?

Sweetman, even.

All three, against my better judgment.

They're Claire's friends, not mine,

and she appealed to my better nature.

How much did you loan them?

To be honest, I can't remember exactly.

I think Guy needed $30,000,
Philip Trent $50,000,

and Johnny Parkway $2,000, $3,000.

They paid you back?

Guy and Phil should have done by now,

but I shan't hold my breath.

Is this to do with Sweetman
murder, by the way?

Possibly.
You see,

my sergeant thinks he was killed

by a jilted lover or an angry husband.

That'd be you too, wouldn't it?

But you disagree with him,
by the sound of it.

Well, I did, until now.

Why did your wife lie to us?

Why did she say you'd left
the country when you hadn't?

I asked her to.

I didn't want you digging into my past,

coming up with reasons to keep me here,

which you seem to be doing.

You threatened to kill him, didn't you?

What was that about?

Jealousy?

Injured pride?

-Neither.
-Only my next question was going to be,

how do you cope with Henry Charlton?

I mean, he's moved into your house,

and your wife
seems very attached to him.

The fire went out of our
marriage years ago.

That's why I'm leaving.

No hard feelings, no broken bones,
just end of the road.

So if you think I killed
Sweetman out of jealousy,

no mistake.

Thank you, Vic.

My pleasure, madam.

You wanted to talk about Henry?

Yes.

Yes.

The semifinal.

Another notch on his gun belt, eh?

He only just won, you know.

And he should have left
the other boy standing.

Now, I'm not saying it's your
fault in any way,

but he didn't come
in until 2 o'clock this morning.

Had you waited up?

I heard him because he was drunk.

Look, this is not the way
to become a champion.

And Henry is a potential champion.

Out of whom you'll make
a fortune, Claire.

You know, maybe there's
another reason you're doing it.

Something to do with the years passing,

and men like Sweetman dropping you

at the first sign of a wrinkle.

And what did Sweetman ditching

you so unceremoniously prove?

Guy and I had our fun,
and then went our separate ways.

Me to Henry, and him to Sandra,

the new love of his life.

The one he was actually going to marry.

Can't try and keep up with the gossip.

Or have you and Henry
just been too busy for that?

Attention!

♪♪

♪♪

That's the one, Scott.

Pull in over there.

♪♪

Can I help you?

I do so hope you can, sir.

-I'm Mr. Rackham.
-Stephens.

Mr. Stephens.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby
from Causton CID.

And that's Detective Sergeant Scott.

Morning.

This way.

I don't know when this room
was last used, Inspector.

What do you do with the dust and polish?

Oh, yes.

Yeah, that's perfect.

And thank you, Mrs. Stephens,
for letting us use it.

I'm chair of the local river watch,
as it happens.

Well, anything to help?

So what's the form?

Well, there'll be someone
here around the clock

starting this evening.

I expect Sizemore Scott will want
to take the first watch.

Oh, yes, of course.

And if we could use the bathroom,

that's really all we need.

I'll put some fresh towels in.

If I remember rightly,
Morton Woods, is that

west from here?

Out of the front door,
straight up the lane facing you.

Morton Woods?

David Cook, sir.

Car's on the other side of the river.

Bit of exercise, Scott.

Do you good.

Afternoon. I'm David Cook.

Up there.

Thank you.

David Cook, with an E.

I'm Inspector Barnaby, with a Y.

Why did you rush away
from John Parkway house the other day?

I was late for another appointment.

Oh, yes.

Well, you look like a
man with a full diary.

He was going to give you
some money, wasn't he?

Money in his hand.

No.

No, you've got that wrong, mate.

He was holding 500 quid at least.

That's a lot for a teacher.

And blackmail is a crime,
David, as I'm sure you know.

But I will set that
to one side if you tell

me what you've got on him.

What do you mean?

Has it anything to do
with the murder we are investigating?

Murder?

What, has he murdered someone?

That is what I am asking you, David.

Do you know something I should know?

No, I don't know what
you're talking about.

You leave me alone, all right? I'm done.

And I want a solicitor.

What you want is a
bloody good slap, mate.

Sergeant.

Some other time, perhaps.

♪♪

It's Vic again.

Sandra turned up yet?

Well, were you her bloody parents,
for God's sake?

What are you doing about it?

That's not good enough.

Do you know anything
of Sweetman history,

Mr. Parkwins?

Well, before he came to Midsomer,

he sold agricultural
machinery in Suffolk.

Being Guy, he was, uh,
found in bed with the MD's wife.

Then he came here and went
to work for Summerlees.

MD's a bachelor, so no pitfalls.

And he was still working,
but then was he on a diet?

Yeah.

We're not the life he would have chosen,

but then what can we say to most people?

Well, you included?

Actually, no.

No, by some curious stroke of fate,

I'm doing the job I always wanted to.

You happy in it, are you,
in spite of a brat

like David Cook with an E
blackmailing you?

You've got that wrong. He isn't.

Yes, he is.

You tell me why, and I'll stop him.

um

I was, um, 19.

My parents didn't have any money.

I wanted to go to Loughborough.

Seemed impossible.

I saw an advert in a magazine.

Wanted for speciality film, young men

fit, clean, and presentable.

I applied and got the job.

Speciality film?

Was it a so-called adult movie?

Yes.

By today's standards, of course,
it's as tame as a teddy bear.

In fact, it's almost

laughable.

If I was in any other job,
it wouldn't matter.

But I'm a teacher of young children.

Any copies made?

Oh, no, it's hardly a manual.

David Cook father has a copy.

Oh, is it David Cook father, not?

Oh, no, no, it's David
who's blackmailing me.

Entrepreneur in the making.

He was such a nice little boy, too.

OK.

I'll be in touch.

This bloke's the last one.
Been after him for days.

Hello.

Hi.

What did you want to see me about?

Well, dad and daughter stuff, really.

Where are we going, sir?

To see Mr. Cook with an E.

Oh, good.

What's wrong?

Scott, there will be no
violence on my watch.

No, I was just...

None whatsoever.

Yes, sir.

It's about the holiday, Ed.

I'm afraid the old money has
a wee bit tied up at the moment.

You can try me again
in a couple of weeks' time.

You know me, Dad.

I probably will.

Yeah.

There was something else,
um, the police.

I mean, well, Barnaby's not
just your average country plot,

-is he?
-I hadn't really thought about it.

Why?

Ed, he will get around to you.

And what you had with Guy, um,
that thing you had together.

Where were you Friday night?

Well, it depends when on Friday.

Dad, it isn't the police
that want to know.

It's you.

You think I had something
to do with Guy's death.

Of course I don't.

Did you?

Ed, wait.

Look, I just want you
to be ready for them.

Well, thanks, Dad.

I will be.

♪♪

♪♪

What do you want?

The tape, please.

What tape?
What are you talking about?

The tape you've been blackmailing
Mr. Parkway with.

I could ask your father if you prefer.

Well, doesn't he know what
you've been up to, eh?

Perhaps I should tell him.

-Is he in?
-No.

They've gone to the regatta.

Then the tape, please.

You can go with him, Sergeant.

Bear in mind what I said in the car.

After you, Mr. Cook.

This highly desirable craft
is in the process

of refurbishment.

In other words, it's a wreck.

It offers accommodation
in economical form.

You can't swing a cat in it.

As a vessel...

Cully, you said you were going to help.

I will. I will.

Hello!

Hello, Tom.

-Hello, Eva.
-A cup of tea?

Yes, please.

Thank you.

Oh, I spy boats.

Some of them marked.

Yes, I think we ought
to go and look at one

when you've got time.

That's fair enough.

Take your thumb off the pry.

Are you in?

No, I'm not.

Not unless it's Jocelyn, the solicitor.

-35.
-Hello?

Mum says he'll haggle.

Yes, yes, he is.

I'll arrest the man for extortion.

It's Jocelyn, the solicitor.

♪♪

Oh, sir.

Scott, how goes it?

Well, Philip Trent Philip Trent
just gone on board, sir,

but then he would if he lives there.

You got anything your end?

Oh, yes.

Just spoke to Guy's
solicitor about the will.

Did he leave you anything, sir?

Strangely, no.

But he did leave Sandra
something, his house.

Why would you leave your
cottage to a woman

you've known for less than a month?

Well, she was the great love
of his life, wasn't she, Scott?

And Trent said he was going
to marry her.

The point is, it puts her
at the very top of our list.

All we've got to do now is find her.

Hello.

John Parkway showed up.

Anyway, um, why are you here, sir?

It's a generation thing, Scott.

I bought you some cake and some coffee.

I thought, you know, grown lad, peckish.

Thank you, sir.

I'll make sure I eat it
before the relief turns up.

Did Mrs. Barnaby make this?

I wouldn't do that to you, Scott.

God, where's Ivan?

Having second thoughts.

Shouldn't think so.
He needs this more than we do.

It's not so much that you stopped

me smacking David Cook, sir, but, well,

you bent a few rules yourself.

We broke into the Arabella, didn't we?

Well, that, Scott,
that was the proper prosecution

of a legitimate inquiry.

Whereas you thumping Cook with an E,
that'll be personal.

And me breaking
into Freddy Bonavita house?

That was for the good
of the investigation, too.

And look what you found.

Freddy Bonavita, plus the fact that his

wife lied for him.

I think someone else just showed up.

Who the hell is that?

Don't know.

What's the man Vic Linton told us about?

The fourth man.

♪♪

It's not.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm still in the doctor's.

That custody sergeant
knows everybody in the world

and then a few more.

His name is Ivan Hawkins, sir.

He owns a jewelry shop in Causton.

Is he known to us?

Yeah.

CRO gives him form back to 1982.

Theft of 12 Cartier watches.

Oh, and there's a repossession
order on the shop.

He hasn't paid his mortgage.

And this man was meeting
Sweetman and the others

aboard the Aragogia, yeah?

Yeah, all four of them in debt,
three of them

to Freddy Bonavita.

Would you want to owe him money?

He did say he didn't expect
to see his money back, didn't he?

Yeah, he may have lied to us, sir.

What are they doing?

On the bed.

Do you think we're looking
at an insurance scam, Scott?

How about that for a theory?

They were planning to Ivan Hawkins,
which still are.

And with his collusion.

When, though?

Well, this week's a
pretty good bet, isn't it?

I mean, half of
Causton's pissed every night,

and we're stretched to the limit.

Got it.

Guy?

Guys, is that you?

Oh, Mrs. Sharpe, you gave me a shock.

It's Sandra, isn't it?

Yes, yes, of course it is.

Oh, dear.

What's wrong?

Oh, dear.

Anything overnight?

No, sir.

The Arabella party broke up at about 2.

They all went their separate ways.

Barnaby.

Oh, Mrs. Sharpe.

We'll be right over.

Sandra turned up.

♪♪

Mr. Barnaby, I've told her about Guy.

Didn't she know he was dead?

Not just dead, Inspector.

Murdered.

So he was.

Inspector Barnaby.

Yes.

Thank you.

And this is Detective Sergeant Scott.

Miss Dad, I'm so sorry that you

had to learn about Guy's
death in the way you did.

Who did it?

Yeah, well, we don't know yet.

One of those dreadful rowing
club people, I expect.

Do you have anyone specific in mind?

Any one of them.

They're a cliquey,
immoral bunch of self-serving.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't lead off like that.

Miss Dad, did you know that Guy had

made a will in your favor?

Yes, I did.

Leaving you this house.

Nice little nest egg.

And it therefore follows
that I killed him for it.

Please.

People have been murdered for this.

Plus, we began to get
a bit worried when we couldn't

find any official record for you.

I was born and brought
up in France, Sergeant.

That's where I've been
for the last few days.

-Deauville.
-I said it was a funny name.

If you'd looked under my married name,

you'd have had more luck.

And what is that?

Linton.

My ex-husband is the steward
at the rowing club.

Yeah, we know.

Or we thought we did.

Good luck to you.

Puts it about a bit
out of hand, doesn't he?

Expert speaks.

Local interest.

Come on, Midsomer.

Nice, clean start.

Come on, Midsomer!

Great start!

999.

-Sir.
-Mr. Linton, you are now

what I call a strong possible

for Sweetman murder.

You've just met your ex-wife.

You mean Sandra's turned up?

Thank God.

How is she?

She's upset, as am I.
Why didn't you tell us

you'd been married to Sandra?

You didn't ask me, sir.

See our point now?

Your wife gets off with Guy,
how does that make you feel?

Jealous?

Angry enough to kill him?

I was delighted with the arrangement.

I've always wanted what was
best for the ex-Mrs. Linton,

and the chairman was one of the best.

You were out there on the towpath

the night he was killed.

Did you follow him home?

Brick him over the head?

I came back here
to finish my tour of duty.

If this would try this for size.

The day we first met,
you weren't so much

pointing the finger at Trent,
but away from Sandra.

Why was that?
Did you think that Sandra

had killed Sweetman?

Or is that another confidence too far?

Coffee, sir?

Yes, please, sir.

And put it on Trent's slate.

Supposed to be closing cans of worms,
sir, not opening them.

Now we've got Sandra alive and well

and dissing members of the club.

Not to mention her being left
Guy's house in his will.

Did we ever do a CRO check on Linton?

Yes, sir.

Come.

Vic Linton, Staff Sergeant,
Royal Artillery.

Stationed at Carl's Ruhr.

Left the army five years ago,
married, then divorced.

No children, no police record.

Lives in Causton on his tod.

Keen fisherman.

But it certainly played us.

Well, if it's not a
jealous husband, sir,

it's an ex-lover.

And who is the next conquest on?

It's like coming home.

You must live in a very strange house.

Miss Trent, Hetty, we'd really like

to know where you were
on the night Sweetman was killed.

At a club till 3 in the morning.

With who?

Henry Charlton?

We, uh, took a taxi home.

You can ask the driver if you like.

How organized are you?

Or should I say, prepared?

I prefer organized.

Thing is, Hetty,
you're in Sweetman address book

along with about 500 others, and we're

asking them all how it was.

So how was it for you?

Look, can we do this somewhere else?

I'm due for a coffee break
in about five minutes.

How did your dad feel about you and Guy?

Well, he didn't like it.

I never thought he would.

Did he try and stop it?

He wouldn't have dared.

And he's not the
murdering type, if that's

what you're getting at.

And when are you off on holiday?

I don't know who told you about that,
but it's been canceled.

Apparently, dad isn't as
well off as I thought.

Sweetman was also in debt.

Did you know that?

I was his girlfriend,
not his bookkeeper.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I really

should get back to the shop.

I'm so sorry.

I seem to have forgotten my wallet.

Would you mind paying the bill?

Thanks.

♪♪

♪♪

All right! All right!

♪♪

How is Sandra?

She's still unconscious, I'm afraid.

That's why I need to talk to you.

Can you describe her attacker for me?

Well, he was a motorcycle courier.

And who do we know
with a motorcycle, Scott?

Henry Charlton, David Cook.

What did he look like, Mrs. Sharpe?

What, uh, leathers and a helmet?

I believe they have to wear
a helmet these days.

Yes, they do. What color was it?

Oh, I'm not very good with colors.

Dark.

Well, you've been very helpful,
Mrs. Sharpe.

I think you're a bit young
to be watching this.

Where's this come from?

This?

Um, some oik is using this
to blackmail one of my suspects.

Suspect playing the lead.

Is that him?

That's him.

Early night?

Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to Midsummer Regatta.

A little bit of a selection.

so we can promise you
some top-class racing

involving the very best
of our competitors.

The weather is set for...

♪♪

Barnaby.

Sir?

Trent Parkway and Ivan Hawkins have

just left the Arabella Jane.

Trent went back for his car keys.

Right.
I'll meet you at the shop.

Sir.

Pull in Phil, will you?

For God's sake, Parkway,
you should have had one before we left.

I can't do this.

Jesus, talk about timing.

Did I hear you all right?

I'm sorry, I can't go through with it.

I knew you were flaky, John.

Guy was flaky too.

Look what happened to him.

Don't threaten me, Phil.

There's no need,
I won't be going to the police.

Get out.

They'll go through the back, sir.

There's a place to park,
and it's not overlooked.

There's no one left
to overlook them, is there?

All down the regatta.

You posted a lookout?

He will call us.

♪♪

And now a final
of the men's single sculls.

Joey Thorne for Hatcham with 81,

Henry Charlton
for Little Summer with 82.

Attention!

How's he doing?

-Fine.
-Fine.

Come on, Henry.

Come on, Henry.

What?

I'll do the rest.

Steady.

Do you want to go over your story again?

No, no, I'm fine with it.

Feet together.

Yeah, it's not
totally convincing, is it?

What isn't?

When you're asked.

You can say that's how
I got the combination.

And, um, that one was for luck.

-What the...
-Mmm! Mmm!

♪♪

♪♪

I'm fine!

Come on!

YOU BASTARD SHREK!

You absolute bastard!

Well, it's certainly a point of view.

The result of the
final tie fair challenge

in a couple of minutes will be revealed

by Henry Charlton in the midsummer rain.

Mrs Bonavita?

-Yes?
-We understand you're Henry Charlton

coach?

Yes.

May we have a word?

Wasn't that a good rest?

Wait for the tight beat, lads.

Ah!

Oh, thank you.

Fantastic race, Henry.

Oh, my god.

Well done.

I knew you could do it.

Let's all win.

The Olympic scouts, did you hear that?

Henry, these two gentlemen are from the

British Olympic

Committee.

Very well skilled, Henry.

-Very well done.
-Thank you so much.

I really appreciate you coming.

Thank you.

Good job.
Thank you.

The robbery.

You pulled out at the
last minute, didn't you?

I'll root for it, yes.

Wise move.

I wasn't afraid of being caught, son.

So much as facing the kids, I teach.

There's only one thing on this tape
you could be arrested for.

It's your mullet haircut
and all the flares

you wore briefly in the first scene.

But though I agree, school governors

might see it differently.

Look, this might be an
excellent time for you

to tell us what the row aboard Arabella

Arabella was all about.

Oh, it's not the honor
among thieves thing, is it?

Look, don't you be so stupid.

They're in custody.

I've been two steps
ahead of you all along.

A guy came aboard the boat that Friday.

Drink?

No, I'm afraid I have some bad news.

What's wrong?

I'm calling the robbery off.

I'm sorry.

I know you were all depending on it.

-I was, too.
-You may want to add, Sweetman.

That doesn't stop the rest of us.

I guess it does.
If it goes ahead, I shall inform

the police.

Oh, God.

You're serious, aren't you?

And the row went on from there.

Trent was furious.

Wouldn't let it go.

Linton was there with his dog.

After all the work we've done,
I could bloody kill you!

I mean it, Phil! That's the end of it!

For Christ's sake, Guy!

You never could be relied upon!

Trust you'd let us
down at the last minute!

Bark, bark, bark!

And two hours later, Sweetman was dead.

Did he give any reason
why he was pulling out?

No.

Although I think I know why.

He told Sandra about the robbery.

She didn't like it,
said she wouldn't run a thief.

Did he pull out on her, say so?

Out of character, I know,
but that's what I believe.

That's right, sir.

I mean, Sandra knew
all about the robbery.

Is that why someone tried to kill her?

Not the point.

Will they try again?

Oh, Barnaby!

♪♪

The other day, you didn't tell us
about the robbery, did you?

Yes, I should have done, I know.

But I didn't want you
to think badly of Guy.

I had every reason
to believe the robbery had

been called off.

When did you give him the ultimatum?

Friday morning,

the day he was killed,

and I meant it.

If the robbery had taken place,
I'd have left him.

What happened afterwards,
do you know where he went?

Yes, I do.

And who he meant to see.

Sir?

Vic Linton has entered the building.

♪♪

What are you doing here, Mr. Linton?

Visiting my ex-wife, sir.

Is it a crime? I didn't know that.

Vic!

Keep her back with us.

Thank God.

Who did this to you, Sandra?

That's what we're here to find out.

♪♪

Oh, Barnaby, listen.

How much longer are you going
to keep me here?

Only I've got a problem
with confined spaces.

Have you?

Well, in that case,
as long as possible, Mr. Hawkins.

Now, will you please tell us about this

pathetic excuse for a robbery?

Well, isn't it obvious?

This man, whom I now
know to be Philip Trent,

came to my house in a balaclava
and threatened me.

If I didn't take him to the shop,

he'd kill me, then kill the missus,

who's down at the sister's.

So I cooperated.

Ha, ha, ha.

Well, what's so funny?

This is you going on board the Arabella

Arabella on Wednesday night.

And this is you leaving again.

And this is you this morning.

And who's that with you?

Oh, look. It's Mr. Philip Trent.

The prisoner said he was angry, sir.

Said he missed his breakfast.

Yes, all right, Constable.

The condemned man ate the hearty one.

Mm, condemned?

-Mm-hmm.
-I shouldn't count your chickens.

Furthermore, I asked for ketchup.

This is brown sauce.

Mr. Hawkins has very kindly given us

his account of this morning's
remarkable events.

May we have yours?

Well, you can play us
off against each other.

You'd be lucky.

And, um, where's my solicitor?

Why was John Parkway
aboard the Arabella with you,

given the fact that he didn't take
any part in the robbery?

Solicitor?

-O-R.

Oh.

I wasn't expecting you to be here.

Well, here I am.

How does, uh, lobster thermidor sound?

Well, it sounds like a celebration.

It wouldn't be a
proper celebration without a bottle

of, uh, Dad.

You thought I'd be out celebrating

with Hetty Trent, didn't you?

Well, maybe you're right.

Maybe she's not the girl
for an Olympian after all.

Oh, what do you think?

Well, I always knew
you'd see sense one day.

To the best coach a man
could have ever had.

Here's to the future you deserve, Henry.

So, Italy, here I come.

Oh, I thought it was Bali.

And I thought it was all off.

Oh, no, not that.

Training camp.

John the scout said I was
a dead cert for the team.

But could I pack up and go
and meet the others by next Friday?

What about me?

Well, you'll get to stay here.

That's what you
always wanted, wasn't it?

How do you know what I've always wanted?

Well, I know what you said.

You don't get it, do you?

This was never about me staying here.

Claire, I can't have two coaches.

They're offering me
the best in the world.

The best for the best, John said.

What about all the work that I put in?

I'll always be grateful,
but, I mean, let's face it.

We were just getting too close.

That's why I was able
to stay out late and muck

about and get drunk with Hetty.

Won't be able to do that
with the likes of John overseeing.

Will you shut up about John?

Sorry.

Dinner will be an hour.

Well, it's all yours,
and I hope it chokes you.

So, going back to
the David Cook thing, sir,

well, you blackmailing
John Parkway with his own tape,

that was, uh...

For the good of the investigation.

There's one other thing
that bothers me, sir.

What's that?

Every time you do it,
I get a really lousy hand.

Well, that is a pure coincidence.

♪♪

Thank you.

Thanks.

♪♪

♪♪

You can hit that as much as you like.

It's an NHS bolster.

Scott!

♪♪

Sergeant Scott reckons this is all

about good old-fashioned jealousy.

I've always thought it was about money.

What's your opinion?

Because you're the one who knows.

I'd say life is never as clear
cut as you both imagine.

Maybe not.

But I think I am looking
at an irate spouse

or jealous partner,
the very words you used on the day

we found Sweetman body.

I told you Guy was a friend.

He was more than that.

You were a conquest of his, weren't you?

And then he ditched you
for a precocious, grabbing,

silly little girl, Hetty Trent.

That was Guy.

Anything in a skirt.

And then he meets Sandra,
and he falls for her,

hook, line, and sinker.

Don't give it so much dignity, Sergeant.

She was just one more in the line.

No, she wasn't.

Because unlike any of the
other women he knew, including you,

she could tell him what to do.

She told him to call
off the robbery, and he did.

Was the robbery your idea,
Mrs. Bonavita?

You tell me.

I will.

It was.

See, I think you're a
very high-maintenance lady, you.

I think you've
been very expensive to keep.

But once in Malta, Freddie wouldn't

have to do that anymore, would he?

Freddie's left me the house.

Do you know how much it's worth?

Yes, I do, but it's
in the company's name.

You can't get any capital out of that.

So you went to Sweetman with a plan.

A plan to Ivan Hawkins.

Collect the insurance money,
sell the stolen goods.

But Guy pulled out.

That's Sandra's insistence.

He let me down, Inspector,
in more ways than one.

That night I went to his house,
he wasn't there.

So I waited.

Guy.

Guy, I really need to talk to you.

No point, Claire.

I won't budge.

What's happened
to make you lose your nerve?

I haven't lost my nerve.

I've had a change of heart.

I really need that money, Guy.

You'll manage somehow.

I must have been mad
to even contemplate it.

Who's been getting to you?

Some new girlfriend
with a righteous streak?

Has she got money?

No, the parents do.

More than that, Claire,
she puts you in the shade.

How do you fancy
falling for a beautiful,

young thing

like that when I could have you
for the asking?

♪♪

Then I dragged him down to the river.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

-the-moment stuff, was it?

Yes. Yes, you could say that.

So why did you try and kill Sandra?

Two reasons.

She knew all about the robbery.

I would tell you all about it,
as I'm sure she has done.

And the second reason?

She spoiled my life, Inspector.

Made in the 1960s,
mahogany skin, brass fittings,

in need of some refurbishment, being

sold for personal reasons.

Which means they'll take an offer.

Might not take mine.

Mr. Tapley said number 17.

Well, here it is.

Hey, that is Philip Trent boat.

Can I tell you about the
personal reasons?

Well, we should at least
have a look at it.

Come on.

-Come on.
-All right, all right.

I don't think it
needs too much work, Tom.

Bit of a clean,
bit of varnish here and there.

It'll need new curtains,
of course, and new upholstery.

Mr. Tapley says the engine is just fine.

Well, Mr. Tapley would, wouldn't he?

I can see us now.

Way upriver.

And then we'll park the moor, the boat,

one of the Midsomer villages, and we'll

go around the antiques fairs,
maybe a farmer's market,

curtain.

Oh, my God.

Mom won't.

Thank you.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪