All language subtitles for Hetty Wainthropp Investigates - S04E04 - Mind Over Muscle.en

And I'd like a little
golf meself,

you know, but...

Well, granted,
it's a nice car, Sonia.

But the xk version
with 8 cylinders

under the hood, now,
that's something else.

As soon as I take delivery,
I'll give you a spin.

Right, Russ.

I'll hold you
to that.

Same again, please, love,
and whatever you're having.

Shan't be a moment.

[Punches being thrown]

Captioning made possible by
acorn media

how's that?

Oh, very smart.

Is that
a second post?

Well, junk mail delivery.

Oh. Yes. A dark suit,
a crisp shirt.

You can't beat it.

I always said,
funerals suit you.

Were you expecting
something

from Whitby?

No. Not really.

I shouldn't cancel
my hair appointment,

should I?

No, no, no. We'll be
back well before then.

What if we're
asked back?

I can always
do the honors.

You didn't know Charlie
that well, did you?

And some things cannot
be put off.

Cheeky.

I did tell you it was
a long shot, love.

Your cousin's probably
moved on long since.

You're probably right.

I was just passing.
Any joy?

What do you think?

What have you got
there, then?

Something that Adie
forgot to take with him.

Left a forwarding
address, did he?

And his phone number.

Maybe I'll call him
and get him to pick it up.

Seems a shame now you've
wrapped it so nicely.

Why don't they just
say it, then?

Security, I suppose.

Go for it.

No, thanks.

When I think of visible
deterrent, I think of you.

Man: Oh, yes.

It was sudden,
all right.

Still, 73.
Not a bad innings.

How's your better half?
Still sleuthing?

Aye.

Yeah. Yes, I thought
I caught

a glimpse of her
at the church.

Ah, yes. She had
to shoot off.

Ah. As in business?

Anything that might
interest our news desk?

You should know better
than to ask.

Oh, sorry, Hetty.

I'll be with you
in a tick.

That's all right.

Now, then how are you?

I'm well looked
after, thank you.

So have a cup of tea and
get your breath back.

Oh, I'm fine.
I'm just a bit flustered,

that's all.

I visited the hospital,

and I got stuck
in the traffic.

Make a cup of tea for
Mrs. Halliwell, Julie.

The hospital?

Mm-hmm.

Nothing serious,
I hope.

Not with me.
I was visiting Russell.

They're quite worried
about him.

He's been beaten up
and fractured his skull.

Beaten up? Why?

Well, he says
he doesn't know.

Was it for money
or valuables?

Oh, apparently not.

He was having
a lunchtime drink.

He went to the gents'.

And this man just
laid into him.

There was no argument.
Nothing.

But that's dreadful.
Did he know the man?

He says he'd never
seen him before.

You can't believe it,
can you?

No.

What do the police say?

They know who did it.

They arrested him
straight away.

Well, that's good.

What'll happen
to Charlie's column?

Well, we'll find another
writer, and it will appear

as usual.

Joe elder is dead. Long
live Joe elder's column.

He had a particular
turn of phrase

did Charlie.

I think I'll know
if someone else

has written it.

You might.
But thousands won't.

So would he need
any experience,

Charlie's
replacement?

Well, not
particularly. No.

You've got to be 60-plus,
opinionated,

and able to scribble
a few plain words.

If you think of anybody,

give me a call.

Hetty: You're gonna be
writing Charlie's column

before the ink's even dry
on his last offering?

It's not his column.
It's been written

by umpteen people
over the years.

I know that. It just
seems a bit insensitive

to be planning it all
at his funeral.

In a paper near you,
Robert Wainthropp is

Joe elder.

I'm impressed.

What are you gonna
write about?

I have no idea yet.

Joe elder's supposed
to have strong opinions.

I've always left those
sort of things to you.

Eh--

[doorbell rings]

I'll go.

Hello, dawn.

Hetty. Can I have
a word?

Of course. Come in.

Thank you.

The police went to
see Russ this afternoon

about the assault.

He's asked them
to drop the charges.

Drop them? Why?

He told them
that Scholes,

the man
who attacked him,

had made
a counter-accusation.

What sort of accusation?

That Russ had made
an approach to him.

Russ wouldn't elaborate.
He was too disgusted.

He said it was adding
insult to injury.

What do the police say?

Well, they think
it's a smear

to make Russ back off.

They'd like to take
this thug to court,

but Russ thinks that
the mud might stick.

Understandable, I suppose.

But what about
the next victim

who happens to get
in this man's way?

That's it, though,
isn't it?

Was Russ really
picked out at random?

What are you saying,
dawn?

I want you to find out
if he's got himself

into something
that he can't handle.

Like what?

I'm not asking
any favors, Hetty.

I'll pay the price.

Yeah. Russ is
a regular.

Not every day, but 2
or 3 times a week.

And what about Scholes?

No.

I've seen him
around, though.

He works at a gym
not far from here.

Was Mr. Halliwell
talking to him?

No. He was
at the bar.

Scholes was over at
the fruit machine.

On his own?

As far as I
can remember.

When Russ went
to the gents',

did Scholes follow him,
or was he already in there?

Look, it's like I
told the police.

I was behind, the
day getting on...

So, really,
I'm not sure.

But I think he went
in after Russ.

And no words,
angry or otherwise,

had passed between them.

No. Now, are
you sure

I can't get
you a drink?

Oh...

No, thank you.
We don't drink on duty.

Oh, 'tis serious
stuff, then.

Do you have
any thoughts

on why Mr. Halliwell
was attacked?

Not really.

Russ is a really
nice fella.

He'll buy any bit
of your drink.

Especially those of
the opposite sex.

Well, I guess.

He does have a bit
of a twinkle.

Thank you.

Eureka!

I spend days down
at the job center

getting absolutely
nowhere,

and you step into
some dead man's shoes?

Now, don't you start.

Maybe I should check
the obituary column first.

You sure you're not
getting too picky?

I want a job driving
forklift trucks,

not the r.A.F. Shuttle.

I can drive them, and I
can maintain them.

Maybe so, but there are
not many Lasses

in that line of work,
are there?

You should never have
given up that job

at the garage.

Oh, Adie Atherton.

Where?

Up there. He must have
posed for the sign painter.

Oh, don't talk daft.

Just look at those muscles

and that full
canteen of teeth.

He's the spit.

He's moved out of
Janet's flat.

Now, get him out of
your mind, Geoffrey.

Easy to say, but he throws
a very long shadow.

Hello.

Hello. Are you
in charge here,

mister, uh...

Scholes. Dean Scholes.
What can I do for you?

This
is my nephew.

I'm thinking of
buying him a membership

as a birthday present.

Come in. I'm show
you around.

Scholes: This room floor
in the gym for the aerobics,

circuits,
stretching exercises.

In here,
cardio-vascular room.

Step-ups, bikes, rollers.

Jarring on the joints
kept to a minimum,

but plenty of hammer
on the ticker.

All right, Donna?

Down here,

the weights room.

Loads of poundage
for bodybuilding,

if that's
what you're after.

I'm not
sure yet.

I'm not exactly
what you'd call

chunky.

No.

He's been poorly.

I did wonder.

Come on. It looks like
your auntie's present

has come in
the Nick of time.

The answer is maybe.

But I think he ought
to have a go

before I spend my money.

Adams: Dean Scholes.

Just enough brains
to be bothersome.

Why haven't you
charged him?

I'm sure you know why.
Scholes claimed

that Halliwell made

advances of
a sexual nature.

Do you believe that?

No.

So why was he assaulted?

Scholes is a thug. He
doesn't need an excuse

to thump anyone.

Russell Halliwell was
in the wrong place

at the wrong time. Is
that what you're saying?

Have you met
Scholes yet?

Yes. At the gym,
where he works.

Off the record, we think
Scholes has

an under-the-counter
business

selling steroids
to bodybuilders.

Illegal, of course,

but we don't have
any firm evidence.

The attack on Halliwell
might be connected.

An unpaid debt, perhaps.

Russell Halliwell said he'd
never seen Scholes before.

Well, he would,
wouldn't he?

What are you doing here?

Reporting in.
What else?

How is he?

Well, he's on the mend.

He thinks he might be
out tomorrow.

We'd better get
a move on, then.

Why? What did you
find out?

Not a lot.

I want you to give me
a bit more information.

What about?

Have a look at his
bank statements,

credit card statements,
itemized phone bills.

Oh.

Is there a problem?

Well, we've always
kept separate accounts.

And what with my business,
I didn't want any confusion.

Very sensible.

Well, having
laid down the law,

it's wrong for me to pry
into his things now.

What you mean is,
that's what you're

paying me to do.

Well, I think--

dawn.

The next time he could
be really hurt.

What?

So far all we know
for certain is

that Scholes isn't
a jealous husband,

because he
isn't a married man.

Oh.

But we're equally sure
that this attack was

not a matter of chance.

It wasn't?

We think that Russ was
this man's target.

And for all we know,
he still is.

[Baby crying]

What do you want?

What do you think?

Trouble with the car?

Can I come in?

What for?

Janet, I can't stand not
seeing you.

You're gonna have
to come up

with something better
than that.

All right.

I'll hoover right
through

without
any obligation.

Come in.

Did Mr. Wainthropp
tell you how I've been?

What do you mean?

Dead miserable.

No. He didn't.

Well, I am.

What have you got to be
miserable about?

You've got a job with
bed and board thrown in.

Well, I haven't got you.

And if I haven't
got you,

then I've got nothing.

If you had any
gumption at all,

you could have been here
every night, hoovering.

I've said
I'll tell them.

Yeah.

Well, I've been like
a son to them, Janet.

I have to do it right.

Too late. I've got to get
another lodger or move out.

No. I'll do it. I just
have to pick my moment.

Keep talking.
I'm all ears.

Well, as a minor royal
has agreed to open

the extension to
the wire works,

what about a piece
on the monarchy?

I had a number of very
interesting views

on my recent trip
to Australia.

Oh.

Charlie did that, too.

Well, what about--ah.
Hazardous waste--

not in my backyard!

Oh. Charlie did
that, too.

Right. Cheers.

No good, any of them.

Oh, dear.

What was it you wanted
to ask me about?

Hmm?

Something you wanted
to discuss.

Oh, that? Yeah.

No. Uh,
that can wait.

What's the story?

We're customers.

You take a look around
the trade counter.

I'll do the retail
displays.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

They're quite small,
aren't they?

They're standard
size, madam.

May I help?

Thank you, yes.

I came in to see
Mr. Halliwell.

Sorry. Mr. Halliwell's
off sick.

Oh, nothing serious,
I hope.

Well, he's been
badly injured.

An accident?

An assault.

An assault?

He's in a real mess,
apparently.

Are you a friend
of his?

Oh, a friend of a friend.

I always understood he was
an amiable sort of person.

Yes. Of course,
some people here

were always saying
he'd come unstuck.

Oh, why is that?

Well, it's
no secret, really.

Russ could get a bit
over-familiar.

Not with me, of course.

No, no.

So the attacker could have
been over a woman, you mean.

Everything
all right?

Yes, Mr. kenyon.

This lady was asking
for Russ.

Oh. Well, I'm afraid
he's not in today.

So I gather.

Injured in shocking
circumstances, I hear.

This lady's a friend,
Mr. kenyon.

The friend of a friend.

I see. Well, I'm
sure Russ will have

all the friends
he needs

when he comes back.

Now, is there anything
I can do to help you?

Hey.

George Bernard Shawcross.

Hey, Mose!
How's it going?

Yeah. Pretty fair.
How's yourself?

Not bad, yeah?

So what are you
doing here?

Oh, I'm a test pilot

for harrier
jump jets.

Storeman, right?

Yeah. You always
were sharp.

Yeah.

What happened, then?

Good to see you, Mose.

Yes!

And there's another
range you should look at.

Thank you. No more
for now, Mr. kenyon.

My husband's allergic
to glossy brochures.

They bring him out
in a rash.

Private investigator?
Straight up.

Yup.

So what are
you doing here?

Just looking around.

You're here on a job.

Shh! Keep it down.

You are. What is it?
Who is it, eh?

Russ Halliwell.
You know him?

Sure. Somebody lumped him.

Yeah. What can you
tell me about him?

Nothing now.
Here's the boss.

I'm supposed to be
working. See you, mate.

What's the matter?

I won't be
a moment. Mose!

Mose!

Fancy a drink?

Yeah. When?

Tonight. 8:00, three tons.

All right,
see you there.

Man: You really
lost it, eh?

Scholes: Right.
Don't you tell.

I told you
what happened.

All right.

It's as simple
as that. Got it?

You'll do yourself
a mischief.

What are you
doing here?

I came to see
what you were up to.

This is not
a spectator sport,

Mr. Wainthropp.

It's not a sport
at all in my book.

What do you want
to go torturing yourself

like this for?

I'm not. I'm working.

Oh, yes. That Adrian fellow
has a lot to answer for.

What's that supposed
to mean?

I think you know.

And there's another fellow

you want to steer
clear from.

Scholes? He's the
one I'm watching.

Oh, yeah. I just saw him
working the fellow over

in the back room.

Good evening.
Need some help?

No, thanks. Just checking
on my young fellow here.

Oh, aye.

He's my Uncle.

Ah. Well, he's
in good hands, Uncle.

Right. I better leave it
to him, then.

You and me should have
a little talk about diet.

A lad like you needs
a bit of help

to bulk himself up.

How do you mean?

Supplements. I can do
some at a good price.

Take my word for it.

Your body could look like
a sack full of congers

in no time.

Are you sure it was kenyon?

Positive.

[Dance music playing]

And what's he doing with
a man like Scholes?

More to the point, what was
Scholes doing with him?

Mm! Here's Mose.

Mose.

All right.

Hey, hey.

What are you having?

A bitter.

A pint of bitter,
please, Sonia.

You brought your mother.

Shh. She's the boss.

Oh. She doesn't look much
like a private detective.

No. That's
the point.

Oh. Yeah, I'm sorry I had
to dash this afternoon.

Oh, that's
all right.

Is that your job,
driving

the forklift
trucks?

Not likely. No.
I'm just filling in

until they find someone.

That wouldn't mean
there's a job going

for an experienced
driver?

Why?

I know someone
who's looking.

1.47, please.

Keep the change.

Thank you.

Come on.

Mrs. Wainthropp,
this is Graham Mosely.

Call me Mose.

What does your mother
call you?

Graham.

Then that will do for me.

Geoffrey says you know
Russell Halliwell.

Yeah. We work at
the same place.

Have you any idea
why he's been assaulted?

Not for sure,
but I know a few

who weren't
surprised.

Oh?

Yeah. He thinks a lot
of himself, this Russ.

Shh. Shh. Shh.

I mean, I quite like
him because he's

always giving me
his chat-up lines.

Hetty: Yes. We hear he's
very popular with the ladies.

Yeah. All of them,

if you believed
everything he said.

But not quite so popular
with the gentlemen.

What does Mr. kenyon make
of him, for example?

He's not
all that fussed.

A few months ago,
Russ and kenyon

applied for
the top job,

and Russ lost out.

I see. How did he take it?

Badly. Especially
when kenyon started

to reorganize
the place.

Now Russ reckons
he's been demoted.

So every chance
he gets,

he puts
the knife in.

How?

Rubbishing Kenyon's
management,

dishing the dirt
on his wife.

Kenyon's wife?

Yeah. Paula kenyon

used to work
at the warehouse.

Go on.

Well, she used to be
a girlfriend of Russ'.

Serious, they say,

but he wouldn't
leave his wife.

And now Russ is saying
she married kenyon

on the rebound and that
he's seeing her again.

Halliwell is
seeing Paula kenyon.

That's what
he says.

Sour grapes,
I reckon.

I mean, the guy's
all mouth.

Oh? Are we off?

I am. You stay and enjoy
yourself with Graham.

I fancy a taste of these
sour grapes. Ta-ta.

Russ: I didn't ask
for victim support.

I appreciate that,
Mr. Halliwell.

My services are
entirely optional.

Who told you
about me?

The police have a list.
It's confidential, of course.

You see...

When somebody's the victim
of an attack like this,

it affects their
confidence badly,

more so than if they had
known their attacker

or the reason for it.

Would it help to talk?

I doubt it.

Was the man drunk?

No.

What did he say?

Not a word.

Nothing?

This is completely
confidential, Mr. Halliwell.

Did you say
anything to him?

No.

You have no idea
why he did this to you?

None. Now, look,
if you don't mind,

I just want to get out
of here and forget it.

Yes!

[Telephone rings]

[Ring]

[Ring]

Ah.

Gerald, I just
caught you.

Yes. I'm sorry. A bit
pushed. What was it?

My idea for
the Joe elder column.

Narcissism,
the new religion.

Go on, then.

Well, it came to me
after I'd been

to one of them
fitness centers

that are springing up
everywhere.

Churches--dark
and empty.

These places lit
like beacons.

The fanatics worshipping
their own bodies.

Mirrored walls,
would you believe?

Body or soul.
Is that the idea?

Aye.

Yes. Sounds quite
promising. Do it.

Janet Frazer?
Right. This way.

Dawn: There was
nothing unusual

in his bank statement
or the phone bill.

But there are two entries
on his credit card statement

I couldn't fathom--

one for a place
called knack Knicks

and one for
blooms 'r' us.

All right, dawn.

We'll follow
them up.

Well, I better get these
back where I found them.

He's coming out today.

It'll be lovely to have
him home again.

[Music playing]

Guess what.

I got it!

You knew?

Oh, I couldn't help
making a phone call, eh?

Oh, not just any job,
the job--

forklift truck operative.

It just trips off
the tongue, doesn't it?

Come here.

One for you and one
for your old schoolmate.

The old boy network
alive and trucking.

Oh, thanks.

Oh, nothing to it.

Once they saw you,
the job was yours.

Yeah. It's wet.

Yeah. I've just come
from the gym.

I had a quick
shower and go.

I thought you only had
the trial membership.

Well, I told them I
still couldn't decide

and coaxed another
two visits.

Can you, uh, can you
feel the difference?

What do you mean?

Well, am I bit
lumpier?

I'm not sure I
like lumps.

Well, in all of
the right places.

I thought it was obvious

that I like my men
lean and wiry.

Yeah, but--

as long as you can take
the cork off that bottle.

That's all the muscle
I need in a bloke.

Anything heavier,

I can handle meself.

I think I'll go up.

Right.

500 words exactly.

Well done.

How many was it
you started with?

2,400.

I think your style
was destined

for a bigger
newspaper, Robert.

I got carried away.

"Body or soul?"

It needed saying, Hetty.

Absolutely.

It'll make a few
fitness fanatics

sit up and think.

Well, I hope you're not
going to sit up and think

for too much longer.

Geoffrey's got
his key, has he?

Yes. But something
tells me

he won't be using
it tonight.

Oh?

Did he say anything?

I think he's been
trying to.

Ah.

I suppose they're
sensible enough

to know what they're
doing, Robert.

Yes.

Yes, I think so.

Good night.

[Bells ring]

Good morning, madam.

Oh, good morning.

I wonder if you could solve
a little mystery for me.

What's the problem?

About a month ago
while I was abroad,

I asked my son to phone
a gift of flowers

to a friend.

His credit card statement
shows that a charge was made,

but my friend said she
never received them.

Oh, I see.
What's the name?

Halliwell.

The transaction
was dated the 18th.

I'll just check.

Thank you.

Roses ordered by
Mr. r. Halliwell

and delivered on the 18th.

Ah, but was it
to the right person?

"Paula kenyon,
43 Buckingham drive"?

Yes. That's her.
How strange.

In fact, I delivered
some more flowers myself

to this address
a week or so ago.

To Paula kenyon?

Yes. Her husband
accepted them.

Perhaps he could help
you clear up the confusion.

You disappoint me,
Geoffrey.

I thought you were
made of sterner stuff.

Mrs. Wainthropp,
there are places

even the toughest
gumshoe shouldn't go.

Never mind. We've
got what we need.

I suppose you and Janet

were out celebrating
last night.

We stayed in.

Oh?

With a take-away
and wine.

Very nice.

It was.

I had too much to drink
to risk driving back.

I see.

Somewhere safe to put
the car at Janet's,

is there?

Mm-hmm.
Just around the back.

Oh, that's handy.

In fact, I was thinking
of parking it there

on a more permanent basis.

Yes. I rather
thought you might.

You don't mind, do you?

It's not for me
to mind, Geoffrey.

You're old enough
to know your own.

Cheers, Mrs. Wainthropp.

[Doorbell rings]

Mrs. kenyon?

Yes.

May we trouble you
for a moment?

Well, how can I help?

We're investigating
the circumstances

surrounding the assault
on Russell Halliwell.

Russ Halliwell?

You do know that he's
been injured?

No. I'm sorry.
Should I?

I thought your husband
might have mentioned it.

No. I think you must
have the wrong person.

You do know
Russell Halliwell?

Yes. Of course I do.
But that doesn't mean

he's a topic of
conversation

in this house.

I see.

So if you
don't mind--

I appreciate your concern
for privacy, Mrs. kenyon,

but I do think you
can help us.

Who are you
working for?

Mrs. Halliwell.

She sent you. Does she
know you're here?

No.

Nor does she know

that her husband has
been sending you flowers.

The Joe elder column
on the dot.

Hey, they will get
it, won't they?

Oh, aye.

Paula: I was in love
with him.

Stupid, really. I knew
what he was like.

When it became
obvious, he was

never going to leave
dawn, I finished it.

Martin joined the firm
shortly thereafter.

We got married.
I left work.

That's it, really.

As far as I'm concerned,
Russ Halliwell is history.

Then why is he
sending you flowers?

To upset Martin.

Ever since Martin got
the manager's job

ahead of Russ,

he's been trying
to foul things up.

In what way?

By trying to undermine
him at work.

And at home?

I've told Martin, as far
as I'm concerned,

he's got nothing
to worry about.

Funny thing,
though, worry,

when it takes a hold.

What has any of this got to
do with an assault on Russ?

Your husband's a member
of a fitness club.

Yes.

A man named Scholes
helps to run it.

Has he ever mentioned him?

I don't think so.

We think they're
on close terms.

So what?

It was Scholes who
beat up Russ Halliwell.

So what you're saying,

that because Martin
knows this guy,

he must have had something
to do with it?

We have to ask
the question.

Martin hates violence.

Whatever
the provocation?

No question. I know him.

What did you do
with the flowers?

The flowers? Well,
I threw them

straight in the bin.

And the same with
the second lot?

Second lot?

The flowers that
were delivered here

a few days ago.

Didn't your husband
tell you?

Halliwell was making
Kenyon's life a misery.

So he gets Scholes
to beat him up. Q.E.D.

But in that case, why
didn't Scholes say anything

to warn Halliwell off?

I don't know.

Neither do I, Geoffrey.

I think Mr. Scholes
may be working

to a completely
different agenda.

Not bad, eh?

I reckon she's nearly as
good as she said she was.

Mr. kenyon?

Mrs. kenyon on
the phone for you.

Yeah. Right. Tell her
I'll call her back.

[Doorbell rings]

Mrs. kenyon?

Yes.

Dean Scholes.

I'm sorry.
My husband's out.

No matter. It's you
I came to see.

Martin: Right.

Would you like to leave
of your own accord

or did you want security
to deal with you?

When a company employee
is seriously injured,

Mr. kenyon, it's
surely your duty

to assist inquiries.

By implicating meself
in some absurd story

dreamt up by you?

Do you deny that
Russell Halliwell

is pestering
your wife?

I'm denying you
any more of my time.

If I catch either of you spying
on me or my wife in the future,

I shall call the police.

[Telephone rings]

Kenyon. What is it?

Paula, are you all right?

W--what did he want?

No. I'm coming now.

[Pushes button]

Lucy, I'm going out.

Take my visitors off
the premises, will you?

What do you reckon?

When in doubt, Geoffrey,

head for the sound
of gunfire.

I told you.
You should have...

I know!

But I told you.

But I can't do it when he's
threatening you, can I?

Martin, they'll
listen to you.

What do you want
me to do?

Shut it.

Now, what do you want?

Who called, Mrs. kenyon?
Was it Scholes?

We may be able to help you.

Martin...

What the hell you let
these two in for?

We need help.

They've come
to bury me, stupid.

Well, would you rather
deal with that thug?

I said, leave it
to me, all right?

Oh, and will you be here
when he comes again?

Tell us how you got
involved with Scholes,

Mr. kenyon.

Paula: There's no other way.

Things have been
building up between me

and Russ Halliwell.

Paula told me not
to be drawn

by losing
control at work

and starting
to doubt her word.

Of course, when the second
lot of flowers came,

well...

It just got to me,
didn't it?

I have no idea why
I confided in Scholes.

Desperation, I suppose.

Go on.

He said he'd have
a quiet word

with Halliwell for me,
warn him

about giving me
any more grief.

Scholes said he was going
to talk to Halliwell.

Yeah. Just talk.

When it happened to him,
I couldn't believe it.

Oh, I was expecting the
police to call any minute.

Why?

Well, it would seem like I
had sent Scholes on to him,

wouldn't it?

I can see that, yes.

But as long as
you haven't paid him

any--

you hadn't, had you?

Scholes told me he had
a cash problem.

In return for doing me
this favor,

he suggested I buy a load
of the bodybuilding rubbish

he sells.

Well, he said I could
swap it or use it meself.

It was a trap, of course.

Paula: And now he wants
more money

for keeping quiet about
Martin's part in it.

If this comes out, I'll
lose me job, me house.

Everything.

Have you paid
any more?

No. No. That's why
he came around

and threatened Paula.
Well, I told him

I haven't got any
when it happened.

But it won't end there.
Tell her.

He wants me to organize
something at the warehouse.

Organize what?

A credit account under
a false company name

so as he can
just roll up

and take what he wants.

Hetty: I shouldn't be
feeling sorry for him.

But caught between
Halliwell's stupidity

and this thug Scholes,

the man had no chance.

I don't do deals,
Mrs. Wainthropp.

I know that.

Martin Kenyon's just hoping
for some recognition

for helping to bring
Scholes to book.

Of course,
once you explain

to Mrs. Halliwell why
her husband

was assaulted,
we may be forced

to reopen the case.

Kenyon accepts that.

But he'd just have
to take his chances.

No promises.

Message understood,
chief inspector.

That's our man.

I can handle
these, then.

It's no problem.

I said, I can handle it.
Back in a sec.

I think he's sussed us.

He's away.

Man: I'm arresting you with
extortion and assault...

Are you all right?

[Breathing heavily]

So how long are you going
to keep me in suspense?

What do you mean?

You were going to discuss
things with Russ.

Oh, that.

Well, the Kenyons
have moved on.

And I didn't see any point
in going into the details

with Russ.

I'm glad.

You know, I hired you to
put my mind at rest, Hetty.

And now that you have,

I'd like to draw
a line under it.

I thought that's
what you'd say.

But, you know, this time,
I really think

that Russ has turned
over a new leaf.

So how's that?

Oh, that's really nice,
dawn. Thank you.

No doubt Robert will want
to take me out

for a slap-up meal now.

[Dawn chuckles]

We share the same
philosophy, you and I--

the triumph of hope
over experience.

It's only me.

Did you get one?

Let me get me coat
off first.

Oh, come on.

There. You have it.

All packed?

Oh, ho. More or less.

I have left a few
things here for now.

Oh, well,
collect them

when you're ready.

It'll seem a bit
quiet.

Just Robert
and me again.

This is still my work h.Q.,
though, isn't it?

Yes. Of course
it is.

It's not in.

My piece, it's not in.

Are you sure?

The Joe elder column's
always on page 5.

Well, perhaps it's
in a new position.

I've looked.

If we're going to have
literary tantrums,

it looks as though

you're
making a wise move.

I need to speak
with the editor.

Could I speak
to Gerald Hawkins...

I've already said my
piece to Mr. Wainthropp.

Oh, what about?

How you've made me feel
part of the family

around here.

It's been our
pleasure, Geoffrey.

I'll always be grateful.

I just hope Janet and me
can prove

we're doing
the right thing.

Oh, you don't have
to prove

anything to me,
Geoffrey.

I'd rather you were
tying the knot properly.

I won't pretend
otherwise.

But I've seen enough
of you both

to believe you'll make
each other happy.

That's the important
thing.

Robert: It's
been held over.

Held over?

To a future date--
sometime never.

Why?

It was too
controversial,

too hot for
the "Ackersley echo"

to handle.

Is that what they said?

Well, words
to that effect.

They said there was
a conflict

between my article

and the two-page
advertising feature

they'd sold

to physical
fitness clubs.

Guess who won.

Oh, Robert, I am sorry.

Will you still get paid,
Mr. Wainthropp?

Of course I'll--
that's not the point.

What happened to the
freedom of the press?

Look, if it's going
to upset you so much,

we'll throw
the typewriter out.

Leave it
where it is.

If they thought that
article was strong,

wait till they get
the next one.

Bravo, Robert.

I've not seen him
fired up like this

since
Ackersley angel won

the grandstand
greyhound cup.

I'd better be off.

Do you think

I'll be able to come
over to your place

when I want a bit of
peace and quiet?

Bye, Mr. Wainthropp.

Oh? Are you still here?

See you, Mrs. Wainthropp.

[Typing]

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