All language subtitles for S01_E2__Not_with_kindness

Well, then,

number one priority
in this game is what?

Personal hygiene.

Customer relations.

And why is that?

Well, I suppose
because we have to

relate to the customers.

Because we have to
relate to the customer

when he/she is at
he/her most vulnerable,

and therefore in need

of our greatest
tacitly consideration.

Here we are.

There's nobody in.

Stay.

Hello madam.

Yes?

We're here to fulfill
the requirements
with the deceased,

a Mrs. Alexandra Compton?

Aaaah!

We were never really
close, you know.

You'd think, you
know, as sisters,

we'd be real close, but.

She always spoke
very fondly of you.

Christmas cards,

birthday cards,

twice a year on
the phone maybe.

Why wasn't I here?

You came as
soon as you could.

I should have been here.

Well, if you're ready.

Ok.

Have you chosen
the headstone yet?

No, not yet, no.

Would you like
me to help you?

That would be very nice,
Marion, thank you.

You know, in the
States we have

the most incredible
selection,

even for dogs.

Well, well.

Well, we do what
we can, sir,

for this sort of thing,

especially catching
them red-handed

or not at all, really.

Ten years I've been
warden at this church,

and every year
it gets worse.

And you know
why, don't you,

because the vicars got
to go with him and

the police force are
worse than useless.

Is that an official
complaint, sir,

or just by way of
social chitchat?

She was so terribly proud
of you winning that medal.

She sent
us all the newspaper
clippings, you know.

No, I didn't know.

The George Cross,
for bravery?

I think the day she went
with you to the palace

was the happiest
day of her life.

Yeah, so do I.

I'll just get rid of
these before we go,

shall I?

There.

Morning, sergeant.

Morning, sir.

How do we stand?

Any more additions
to the sick list?

No, sir, and the
replacements have arrived.

Ah, good, things
are looking up.

Two PCs and a
detective sergeant.

Is that all they
can give us?

Afraid so, sir.

Well, we'll just have to
make due then, won't we?

No news of
Chief Inspector
Allen, I suppose?

Oh, yes, sir,
his wife did phone.

He's had a bit of
a setback, I'm afraid,

be at least another week.

Soon as you got
a moment, come up

and we'll work out
a revised duty roster.

Right, sir.

Morning.

I'd like to speak to
someone about my daughter.

She didn't come
home last night.

Where's my wife?

She's upstairs.

She's all right, is she?

She is now.

Thank you,
Mrs. Blakiston.

Did she phone the
police, do you know?

First thing.

Do you know what gets
right up my nose?

Hang on, I've got a
list here somewhere.

No, I'll tell you what
gets right up my nose,

and that is people who
go and live in America

and after ten minutes
end up talking like

Katharine flipping Hepburn

That's what I like about
Scotch people you know,

immigrate all
over the world for
as long as you like,

still end up talking
like Scotch people.

What's that, Mrs. what?

Mrs. Compton,
(unintelligible) farm,

someone playing
silly buggers,

flipping coffins
and so on.

Oh, yeah, I think
you'll go out to see her?

Oh, Bill, how can I?

We have three men.

Four.

Your new sidekick
arrived, D.S. Gilmore.

Yeah, but I mean,
if it's only people

playing silly buggers.

No, no, no, apparently
less funny all the time.

And true, it does sound
like she's had enough.

I mean we're
talking hysteria.

Give her a
ring and tell her

I'll be over there
sometime this afternoon.

Jack, have a
word with you?

What's it all about.

Her daughter didn't
come home last night.

Can't someone else do it?

Haven't got anyone else.

The poor gal's
been sitting there

for good half and hour.

Can't even offer you a
cup of tea, I'm afraid.

The Canteen's closed.

Right, well, then,

when did you last see her?

Yesterday morning,
half past seven,

when she left the house
to do her paper round.

She does a paper
round on her bike

and then goes
straight on to school.

Well, when I
say I saw her,

that's not quite true.

I'd already left for work.

We've had a lot of people
down with this flu

and I said
I'd go in early.

It was Colin who
actually saw her off.

Colin, that's your
husband, is it?

Oh, no, I'm divorced,
five years since.

Colin and I, you know,
we live together.

Why have you taken so
long to come and see us

if you haven't seen her
since yesterday morning?

We'd had a big row
the night before.

Somehow it sort of started
up again the next morning,

just before
she went out.

She said she wasn't coming
back and we'd be sorry.

Could she have
gone to her father?

Unlikely, he's in
the Middle East.

Have you spoken
to her friends?

They haven't seen her.

She didn't go to
school yesterday

and nobody's seen
her this morning?

What was it
about, this row?

The usual.

What's the usual?

She's never really
been very happy

about Colin and me.

Right, well, then.

Let me take a
few details, can I?

Right, now then, it's
Paula Bartlett, yes?

Mm-hmm, she's
what, age 15?

Now, can you give
me a description?

Dark hair,

shoulder length,

brown eyes,

about 5'3", a little bit
overweight, not much,

just a little bit.

And she was wearing?

Blue anorak, new.

Red cardigan, gray
scarf, gray socks.

I can't remember
her shoes.

I can check
when I get home.

She's only got
the two pairs.

Oh, and she always
wears the same bracelet,

a silver charm bracelet
her father gave to her.

He sends her one of
those little charms

for her
birthday every year.

Anything else
I should know?

No, no, not really.

All right?

No, it isn't
bloody well all right.

You should have
come with me.

Don't start,
Cheryl, not again.

Well, shouldn't you?

Okay, I was wrong.

D.S. Gilmore?

Here.

Chop, chop!

Morning.

Morning, sir.

Who is that?

Your partner.

She's punishing us.

That's what this is
about, you know it is.

She's just punishing us.

Yes, well, maybe
she's got good reason.

Well, it's just
plain daft, Cheryl,

I mean, for God's sake.

Oh, it was just plain
daft before as well,

wasn't it, Colin?

I wondered
how long it would be
before that came up.

She's my daughter,
all right?

My daughter.

Hello.

Yours or mine guv?

Mine and make it snappy.

I mean I don't
mind driving,

If you're gonna
get all mad.

That's all right,

just shut up and
get in, will you?

I think the
Chief superintendent
would like a word guv.

There's a bit
of luck, sir.

You just called me.

I've had
a telephone call from
the Vicar of St. Pauls.

He was very
concerned about this

outbreak of vandalism
in the old churchyard.

I'm not surprised, sir,

it's a very
grave business.

Apparently
some of the stuff

they've been
spraying on the tombstones

suggest it
might be the work

of devil
worshippers, Satanists,

call them what you like

I assured
him I'd have a senior
officer look into it.

That'd be lucky.

We've only got about six
blokes who can stand up,

Iet alone chase a
box of Black Magic.

I want a car in
the area tonight.

The vulnerable time
seems to be about
10..00 or midnight.

Geesh.

You sure you don't mind?

As long as you
don't knock ash

all over my
nice clean carpet.

Oh, yeah, right.

Hu-huh.

How long you given up?

Three and a bit weeks.

It's not easy, is it?

No.

What the hell time
do you call this?

Sorry.

Well, you are the
police, I take it?

Yes, that's right, sir.

Well, my wife
called you

at 9..00 o'clock
this morning.

Oh, Mr. Cumpton,
is it, sir?

Compton.

Oh, we wondered
about that, didn't
we, Sergeant?

Yeah, yeah, we was
wondering about that.

Yeah, whether it was
Compton or Cumptom.

Oh, by the way, Detective
Inspector Frost,

this is Sergeant Gilmore.

Well, shall we
go inside, sir,

or would you prefer the
interview al fresco?

They've finally arrived.

Sorry about that,
Mrs. Compton,

we've been up to our eyes.

You do know I've been
frightened out of my life?

That's all right, darling.

Sit down, will you?

Thank you.

Oh, do you mind
if I smoke?

Well, yes, I do, actually.

Quite right, madam.

Whenever you're ready.

Well, it started
about a month ago.

I was alone in the house.

George was away
on business.

At about 1 :00 o'clock
in the morning,

the phone rang.

When I answered it,
the receiver went down.

It rang again every half
hour throughout the night.

In a place as
isolated as this,

she was
obviously terrified.

Then we started getting
these disgusting magazines

through the post.

I mean, God only knows,
we're broad-minded enough,

but these
were horrible.

And before you asked,
no, we didn't keep them.

They went straight
on the fire.

Were they addressed
to the both of you?

No, to my wife.

Then the phone
calls started again,

night after night.

This time, he kept
repeating my name.

And you didn't
recognize the voice?

Of course, she didn't
recognize the voice.

Do you think we'd be
sitting here if she did?

And you've got no idea

who could be doing this?

None whatsoever.

It's obviously some warped
bastard's idea of a joke.

Yeah, well, there's
usually a reason

for this sort of thing,
warped or otherwise,

but none that you
could think of?

I've already said, no.

What line of
business you in, sir?

We deal in rare
books and prints.

There's a few manuscripts.

There's over a quarter
of a million pounds

of the stock
in the library.

That's a bit of a
risk, isn't it sir?

There's a highly
sophisticated alarm system

and automatic
sprinklers in every room.

It was a condition of
the insurance policy.

But what the hell that has
to do with this business,

I've no idea.

Right, sir.

Anything else
happens, phone the
station right away

and ask for me, Frost.

Are you saying
you're taking no action?

What I'm saying is,
apart from seeing if

the undertaker can
tell us anything,

there's very little
action we can take,

unless there's a
direct threat to
your wife's life.

Sorry.

Marvelous,

bloody marvelous.

My what on Wednesday?

Cancel it.

No, Leonard,
just cancel it.

What do you mean,
what do you tell them?

You tell them I'm
visiting my sister's
grave in England,

that's what you tell them.

Leonard, why is
it that every time
I leave the house

for more than ten
minutes, you disintegrate.

Will you please, pull
yourself together

and act like a
mature human being.

No, Leonard, no, I am
not being aggressive,

I am being assertive.

And I no longer
wish to continue
this conversation.

I shall call you tomorrow.

Goodbye, Leonard.

Leonard sends his love.

Oh, all right.

You didn't mind
that I phoned him?

No, no, fine.

He worries about me.

So, what was
your day like?

Day?

Oh, well, you know,
this and that.

What was your day like?

Fraught.

I'll get your dinner.

Oh, right.

And just to set
your mind at rest,

I shall stay as
long as you need me.

What about Leonard?

Leonard understands.

Oh, and I phoned
your doctor.

You have an appointment
for a Vitamin B shot

Thursday, 9:00 a.m.

I've written it
on your pad.

Who's there?

Who is it?

You must be lonely now.

I was lonely before.

That's very unfair, Bill.

Unfair or not, it
happens to be true.

It wasn't much
of a marriage.

You sure you want
me to hear this?

Oh, come on, Marion.

Close or not, she must
have said something.

Well, we did pick up
certain vibrations.

You're not eating
your broccoli.

I don't like broccoli.

It's good for you.

Just so you know,

I don't like
anything green.

Well, what vegetables
do you like?

Gray ones.

Would you like some tea?

I bought some real coffee.

I know it's been
a terrible shock,

but you mustn't
let yourself go.

Marion, I was
always like this.

That was half the trouble.

Far be it for me,
and tell me to mind
my own business,

but I can tell from
your complexion

you eat the wrong things
at the wrong time.

For instance, you eat
far too much meat, right?

Marion!

(phone ringing)

Frost.

Sorry to call you out guv.

That's all right,

I reckon you
did me a favor.

Right.

This is Mr. Turner sir,

the churchwarden.

Evening,

it was me who reported it.

I've had a look around,
no sign of anyone.

There were two
of them, I think.

Broke into the crypt.

They must have, they
were ringing the bell.

How did they get in?

There are some broken
railings around the side.

Right, well, the
sooner we take a look,

the sooner we
can get Home,

isn't that right, Mr. --

Turner.

Turner.

Come on, Constable,

Iet's have some
light on the subject.

I thought it would
have been bigger.

Why, they're not going to
get up and dance are they.

(bell ringing)

What's a bell
doing inside a crypt?

It was installed
150 years ago,

by the first
William Dobson.

He was terrified of
being buried alive.

He wanted to be
able to summon help

in case he woke
up in his coffin.

Oh, must have died with
a smile on his face, huh?

Well, Mr. Turner,

everything seems
to be in order.

Still, the
door all broken.

Yes, I know, we won't --

Wait a minute.

What's that then.

Get on the radio to
the station, son.

Tell Sergeant Wells
we found the body

in the churchyard.

And when he
stops laughing,

tell him I think it's
young Paula Bartlett.

I told you, there
were two of them.

What, short,
young, old, what?

I couldn't see.

I'm not a trained
observer, that's your job.

And excuse me,
but where were you

when they were here?

You were supposed
to be on watch,

not keeping
your feet warm

around someone else's fire
you shouldn't have been.

Thanks for being so
patient, Mr. Turner.

If anything else
should occur to you,

would you be good enough
to call us at the station?

I don't suppose

anyone's got a flask
of tea have they?

Sorry, guv.

Probably an
apple in the car.

I could kill for a cup of
tea and a bacon sandwich.

Where's the Governor?

Gone over to tell
the girl's parents.

One of the joys, eh?

The thing is, I mean,

you're not saying
it's her definitely?

What I'm saying is,

according to the
description you gave us,

we have reason to believe.

You want the body
identified then?

Yes, one of you will um,

you know.

I'll do it, love.

You've done
enough haven't you.

If it's my daughter,
I want to see her,

all right,
I want to see her!

No, no that's
alright, Dory.

You tell him to stay in
bed until he's really fit.

We'll manage.

Yeah, yeah,
right, bye, love.

Skiving bastard,

Who?

Johnny Johnson.

Everyone knows he's a
bloody hypochondriac.

When he get a
headache, and he
thinks it's a tumor.

Been on all
night, have you?

No, no, six o'clock.

I'm just about up
to here with it.

Mullett wants to see you.

Canteen open, is it?

No.

Why is it so cold in here?

That's another thing,

central heating's
up the spout.

What do you want?

Yes?

Good morning, sir.

You wanted to see me?

Good morning, yes.

I understand the
girl's parents

have identified the body.

Yes, the mother, sir.

Anything for us to go on?

No, not as yet.

Forensics are at it.

We'll wait and see when
the post mortem shows up.

Which is when?

They said
they'll phone me,

probably early
this afternoon.

Could you --?

In the absence of
Chief Inspector Allen,

I've decided to take
full executive control

of this case myself,

Ieaving you
responsible for the
day to day routine.

Suits me, sir.

Whether it suits you or
not is hardly relevant.

Now, what else
have you got on?

Nothing that can't wait.

Good, so this is your
number one priority.

What do you need to
achieve an earlier result?

A lot more men and a
lot of bloody luck.

Luck seems to be something
you have in spades.

As for manpower,
I'm sorry,

what we have is
all we're getting.

Keep me informed.

Yes, sir.

And Jack,

I thought
I asked you to keep

that graveyard
under surveillance.

Good job we didn't sir.

Otherwise we might never
have turned up the body.

As I said, in spades.

I've got daughters.

Two, as a matter of fact.

We live what,

200 yards
from the bus stop,

but either me
or the Miss.

is always there
to meet them.

Oh, dad, they say,

oh, dad, nothing, I say.

You don't walk
home on your own,

not even 200 yards.

No, no, no, no, no.

You stay there and
eat your dinner.

Geoff!

Does your father know
what you do for a living?

Not what you're
looking for, eh, sir?

Uh, no, not really.

Not adult enough,
is that it?

Well, something like that.

I do have some more
interesting material

out in the back.

Videos and so forth

for the more
discerning amongst us.

Is that right?

It's more expensive,
of course.

Oh, of course.

But I do take cards.

All cards?

Most of them.

Yeah, do you
take that one?

Just pulling your
leg, that's all.

Me too, Mr. Rickman.

It is
Mr. Rickman, isn't it?

Geoffrey Rickman, yes.

How can I help you?

Her mother told me
that Paula Bartlett

did her paper
round from here.

Oh, that poor kid,
and the poor mother.

I mean, I was
telling my wife,

we heard it on the radio.

I mean, you read
about these things,

but you nev --

yes, she did, yes.

Right, well, the morning
she went missing, Monday,

did you notice anything
different about her?

No, no, she came
in, same as usual.

No, a bit later
than usual, actually.

Not much,
ten minutes or so.

You haven't got a map
of her round have you?

No, but I could
do you one.

Oh, thank you,
you're a gent.

How long did it
usually take her?

To finish the round?

Yes.

Hour and a
quarter, I suppose.

Not that day, though.

Why, what
happened that day?

Well, she never
finished it, did she?

Well, I don't
know, you tell me.

I thought you
would have known.

But then suppose
how could you?

Known what?

She didn't deliver
the last two papers.

How do you know that?

Well, they came
in and complained.

Mr. Bell, with
his Independent

and the Hamiltons
with The Sun.

I never thought anything
about it at the time.

You see,
sometimes I think

I've put them in the
bag, and I haven't.

That poor kid.

What was she like?

I mean, how would
you sum her up?

Was she immature or old
for her age or what?

Oh, immature, definitely.

Moody, very moody.

Did she have
any boyfriends?

Not that I know of.

Shouldn't have thought so.

She was a plain
little thing.

She didn't get on with
her so-called stepfather

by all accounts.

But you know all
about that, no doubt.

Would I?

There was all that
trouble, wasn't there?

Was there?

What I mean, he's got
to be a bit peculiar,

hasn't he?

I mean, what sort of a
bloke goes with a woman

ten years older than him?

-- Cheryl.

Doesn't do any good,
you know it couldn't
(unintelligible).

I think I'll go to Ruth's

for a couple of days.

What about the police?

What about the police?

If you've got
something to tell me,

you know where I am.

Well, I'll run
you over, then.

Just take me to the
station, that will do.

Yeah.

I just want to get out of
this house for a few days,

be on my own.

What you mean is,
needing your family.

Your proper family.

Why don't you say it?

Why don't you say what
you're really thinking?

You think I don't know?

I would say
she'd been dead

approximately 36 hours.

Yes.

In the afternoon
she went missing.

As you can see, there are
signs of manual pressure

applied to the neck.

The killer's hands
went around her neck

so the girl would
have struggled,

grabbing his wrists,

but he maintained
his grip,

swung her from
side to side,

striking her head
against a wall,

probably hard enough

to make her
lose consciousness.

And as you can see,

there are
marks on the body

and bruising to the
side of the head.

But if she struggled,

wouldn't she have
marked him in some way,

you know, scratched
him or something?

If you're looking for

telltale pieces of flesh
under the fingernails,

then I must disappoint
you, Inspector.

We didn't find anything.

Pity.

There was clear evidence
of sexual intercourse

shortly before she died.

Rape.

There's evidence
of bruising
that could suggest

intercourse took place
against her will.

On the other hand --

She was raped.

If I might be
allowed to continue.

The girl was a virgin.

She could have
submitted willingly,

but remained tense
instead of relaxed,

which might account
for the bruising.

Equally she could
have been raped.

There's no magic way
of knowing at this stage.

So if
I produce a suspect,

It could positively
incriminate him,
or eliminate him

if you supply us
with a blood sample
for comparison.

Oh, I'll get you
a blood sample,

even if I've got to drain
it out of him myself.

I mean, look at her,

she's just a kid.

Anything else?

Yes, the stomach contents.

This gray --

Just tell me about it,

will you please, doctor.

She hadn't had time to
digest her last meal

before she died, something
with chips and peas.

Sad little meal for
a sad little end.

You'll have a
detailed analysis

sometime tomorrow.

Sorry if I let you
down in there, Governor.

Mmm, don't worry about it.

I can't stand
post-mortems.

Ever since I was a
Bobby on the beat

they turned my stomach,

and I still can't
get used to it.

When you see someone
like that, I don't know

it's just a
pointless waste.

The first post-mortem
that I went to,

he took out
the pelvic bone

and he said, do you mind
if I keep this, Constable

it's very interesting?

And he (unintelligible)
chicken wire.

You're joking?

No, as I live and breathe.

Any news?

Not yet, I'm afraid,
Mr. Fletcher.

Can't be easy working
with something

Iike this on your mind?

It's either this
or sitting home

staring at the wall.

I mostly work by myself.

Makes it easier.

Don't have to
talk to people,

seeing them,
not knowing what to say.

By the way, Mr. Fletcher,

I'll need to see
the girl's room.

That's no problem.

Her mother's gone away.

Oh.

She wanted to get
away from the house.

She's going to
stay at her sister's

for a couple of days.

If you want --

No, no, that's all right.

What, shall we say
about 6:00 o'clock?

Yeah, yeah, that's fine.

Good.

Truth is,

I wanted to have a
word with you anyway.

Oh, yes?

What about?

I think there's
a bloke involved.

A bloke?

What do you mean?

The night before,

after we'd had
this bloody row,

Cheryl went down to the
shops to get some things,

and Paula must have
thought I'd gone too,

because she made
this telephone call.

I didn't hear it all,

but she was
telling this bloke

how she really had
enough this time,

how she was leaving home,
and that she'd see him

same time tomorrow.

As soon as she put
the phone down,

I asked her what
it was all about,

but she just blanked me.

We didn't --

We didn't exactly get on.

I mean.

Did you get a name?

No.

What makes you
think it was a bloke?

It could have been
anyone, girlfriend,

classmate?

No, definitely male.

It was the way she spoke,

kind of putting
it on you know,

the way they do.

Did you tell her mother?

No.

Why not?

I thought --

I thought she was
going to be all right.

Two old ladies,

the Mrs. Harkinsons.

One of them saw the girl
peddling down the drive

after she delivered
their newspaper.

Which way did she turn?

Couldn't remember.

So she delivers her
papers up to here,

and then she stops.

Why didn't she
finish her round?

Maybe her bloke turned up.

Funny way, running
after your boyfriend

I would have thought,

halfway through
your paper round.

Bloody sure I wouldn't
want one of my kids

delivering papers out in
a weird place like this.

I don't know, parents,
they are sorry sometimes?

(unintelligible),or not
they're paying for it.

There you go,
Farm Cottage,

Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton.

(dog barking)

Shut up!

For God's sake, shut up!

Get back in there!

Who is it?

Police!

What do you want?

We're looking
for Lord Blukin.

Open up, love!

Come round the back!

I'm busy!

Well?

Don't you want to see
any identification?

You couldn't look
more like a copper

if you had a flashing
blue light sticking
out your head.

It's about the
young girl

who delivers
your newspaper.

Young Paula?

Yeah, sad, isn't it?

You know about that then?

We're not that skinny
that we haven't
got a television.

But you haven't
got a license?

You can't have everything
in this world.

Did you see her
Monday morning?

I wasn't here.

Was anyone?

He was.

Is he here now?

Does it look
like he's here?

What time will he be back?

Depends how
well he's done.

What's that mean?

He works the markets.

If he's done
well, he's liable
to stay out all night,

pissing it up
against the wall.

We'll come back, then.

Suit yourself.

What time will
be convenient?

Not between 6:00 and 8:00.

We're having
a cocktail party.

This should have been
our last port of call,

Mr. and Mrs. Michael Bell.

All locked up,
by the look of it.

Bin bags on the brain.

You know where he works?

Mr. Bell?

Yes.

Detective Inspector
Frost, Denton CID.

Oh, yes, of course.

They said you were coming.

It's about
Paula, isn't it?

Yes.

I'm not sure how
I can help you.

Well, did you see
her that morning?

No, no, I didn't.

Did anyone,
your wife perhaps?

My wife is dead.

It was her
funeral on Monday.

Her parents had come down
on the overnight train,

and I'd gone early to
the station to meet them,

which is why I wasn't
home that morning.

I see, I'm sorry,
sir, I had no idea.

No, no, no.

She'd been ill for some
time, and was expected.

Nevertheless, you'll
appreciate

that it's a very
difficult time for me.

Yes, of course.

Sorry, I have to --

Not at all.

Please ask your questions.

What time did you
get back home, sir?

Let's see,
the service was over
by half past 1 1 :00.

There was a
slight hiatus,

because we came under
rain very heavily.

The perfect day,
you might say.

Afterwards we had a
rather desultory lunch

at the Stanford Hotel.

I didn't have the heart
to invite people

back to the house.

I took the in-laws to the
station and was back home

by just after 2:00,
I think it was.

I see, and your in-laws
can confirm all this,

of course.

Yes, of course.

And you saw no sign of
the girl at all that day?

No, I'm afraid not.

No, well.

That's all the questions
I have to ask you.

I'm sorry I've had
to bother you, sir,

but in a case
like this, it's --

Not at all.

Sir, thank you.

By the way, you
called her Paula.

Does that mean
that you knew her?

You mean you don't know?

A lot of people seem to
be asking me that lately.

Don't know what, sir?

Well, I gave her a lift
to school most mornings

after her paper round.

I mean,
it's a long way out,

but if the
weather was bad.

How did that come about?

Well, I'm a friend of
Colin, Colin Fletcher.

We belong to the
same angling club.

I assume Colin
would have told you.

So you must have
chatted to her?

Oh, we talked, certainly.

Did she ever
mention anything

about a boyfriend
or anything?

Good lord, no.

She wasn't that
sort of girl.

Thank you for
your time, sir.

Her rounds go from
the Parkinsons,

on to the Hamiltons,
and on to the Bells.

But on Monday that's
as far as she got.

So the three big
questions are

who's this man she's
supposed to be meeting,

why didn't she
get any further

than the Parkinson's,

and what happened
to the bicycle

she was riding?

I suppose the bloke
could have always
thrown the bike

into the boot
of his car,

assuming of course that
he had a car and assuming

even more that
there is a bloke.

Do you think this man
Fletcher could be lying?

I don't know,
I don't know,

it just doesn't sit right.

I mean, run off
with a bloke, yeah,

but not in the middle
of your paper round.

I had a word with some
of her friends at school.

If she was seeing a bloke

she was keeping
very stumm about it.

A bit unusual for
a 15-year-old,

a 15-year-old
virgin at that.

I don't know,

there's something
wrong somewhere.

Anyway, this is
an identical bike,

except hers was yellow.

They didn't make a note
of the serial number,

but I'm chasing up
all the retailers.

We might have
a bit of luck,

because it's only
six months old.

The only other thing
that's missing of course

is the bag that she
carried her papers in.

What action
have you taken?

Sir?

I've got a couple of
teams out looking,

and I've also given the
story to the local rag.

They'll be publishing
it tomorrow.

What I was
hoping for, sir,

was for you to get us a
few minutes on the tele.

Right, I'll look
into it, sir.

If I catch them now,
I should just make

the early evening news.

Do you want me
to go on, sir?

No, I'll do it.

Cover your animal's eyes
and lock up your children.

Mr. Mullett's
making another one

of his television
appearances.

So nothing missing then,

no clothes,
no money, no suitcases?

No, no, nothing.

Funny, then, you'd
think if she was going
off with some bloke --

Could she have
come back after you
left for work, sir?

No, she left
her key behind.

Why would she do that?

I don't know.

I suppose she either
forgot or --

Well like I said, we were
having this terrible row.

Or maybe she
just left it,

so let us know she
wasn't coming back.

I don't know.

Did you see the key
after she'd left

for her paper round?

No, I didn't come up here.

Then she could
have left it

when she came
back the second time,

if she did, that is.

What did she have
for breakfast?

Nothing, that's how
the row started again.

What about the night
before, Sunday?

What did she have to eat?

Same as us, roast lamb.

Why?

Where were you Monday
morning, Mr. Fletcher?

I was at work.

On your own or
with anyone?

I was on my own
most of the day.

What are you trying to --

Do you mind if I have
a look downstairs, sir?

I've got to be honest
with you, Mr. Fletcher.

All that stuff about you
not wanting to tell

the mother because you
didn't want to upset her,

or how the girl going
with that bloke,

I don't know.

Sounds a bit iffy to me.

How'd you mean iffy?

Well, all I know is if it
had been my daughter --

But she's not my
daughter, is she?

I'm just saying.

She said if
I told her mother,

she'd cause trouble.

What do you mean trouble?

She said she'd say I'd
been interfering with her.

Quite the little
schemer, eh?

You don't know
the half of it.

I know she's
made allegations

of sexual harassment
against you before.

It's on record.

It was when I first
moved in with Cheryl.

She just hated me.

I know she was upset
about her father,

but she made out our life
hell, I can tell you.

And not one grain of
truth in what she said?

She wanted nothing more

than me out of
her mother's life

and her father back in it.

And that's how she
chose to go about it.

If I caught the
1 1 :00 o'clock express,

I could do the West End

and be back in good time
to cook you a meal.

Maybe we might
go out somewhere?

Yes, yes, right.

Incidentally, what are
you doing with her things?

Things?

Oh, things.

I don't know, I hadn't
really thought about it.

Get rid of it, most of it.

Clothes, certainly,

(unintelligible)
something like that.

Maybe we should
do that together.

It'll make it less
painful for you.

And I do know there
are one or two

bits and pieces that
she'd like me to have,

things mother gave her.

You wouldn't
mind, would you?

No, no, no, no.

Go on, you take
what you want.

I've got to go, I've
got to go to work.

Well, what
about your food?

That's all right,
I'll grab something out.

Whoever killed her

didn't just
stagger in here

with her body all
neatly gift-wrapped

hoping he'd find
somewhere to find her.

He knew that
crypt was there.

He knew how to
get into it.

A lousy place
is graveyards.

Give me a decent
cremation every day.

My wife's buried
over there.

Let's see, plumber.

Plumber, yes.

I knew there was something
I wanted to show you.

Come on.

I noticed it last night.

Looks like it's
just been put in.

Yes, and the vicar would
know who by, wouldn't he?

I'll wait for
you in the car.

Where is he?

Number two.

No, he's guilty.

Don't bother with a
trial just hang him.

Bernard Hicks, 44,
married, no children.

The day the
girl went missing,

he was supposed to be
working in the cemetery,

installing that
new standpipe.

His time sheets said he
started work at 8:00,

but the vicar's post said

he didn't arrive
to work till 9:00.

Sorry to keep
you, Mr. Hicks.

Just a few
questions, if I may?

I'd like to ask
you one first.

What am I doing here?

Haven't they told you?

It's just routine
inquiries, Mr. Hicks.

All the same you people.

Come on, then
get it over with.

I've got a living to make.

All right now,
Monday morning

according to your
time sheet here,

you started work at
8:00 o'clock.

Now that's
a bit of a porkie,
isn't it Mr. Hicks.

Is that what
this is about?

I fiddle one rotten hour,

and the boss is
calling the firing squad.

Well, they can
stuff their --

Just a minute.

It's her I'm
interested in.

You read the papers

and you know what
happened to her

and where it
happened to her.

I didn't have nothing
to do with it.

For God's sake.

Monday morning
you weren't

where you were
supposed to be.

Tell me about it.

I was supposed
to be putting in
a new standpipe.

They're extending
the burial section,

so the old pipe
had to be rerouted.

I get the van out,
but it won't start,

so I call this
mate of mine.

He's one of these
mobile mechanics.

And by the time he's
fixed it I'm an hour late.

I've worked in the
cemetery till dark

apart from half an hour
in the pub for my dinner.

Rerouting the
pipes, were you?

Does that mean going
through the old crypt?

No, of course it didn't.

Then what were you
doing in there?

How the hell do you know?

What were you
doing in there?

About 1 1 :00 o'clock
there was this
bloody great storm.

I was getting
absolutely soaked,

and I was just
getting over the flu.

Anyway I was by the crypt.

and I tried to get
in out of the rain,

and I couldn't.

So I forced the screws
out with my hammer

and stood inside the door.

When the rain stopped
I put the screws back in

and got on with my work.

I see you live on
Blamford Avenue?

That's right.

It's on the girl's paper
route, Blamford Avenue.

I've not even seen
her, I tell you.

Of course, you haven't.

What's the name of
this mechanic of yours?

What are they like?

Oh.

Not bad, not bad at all.

Cup of coffee, I think.

Then you can get on
with the vegetables.

Well, have you
seen your pond?

The pond, why?

The fish, they're dead.

Dead?

What do you mean, dead.

Dead, floating on
the top they are.

(phone ringing)

Yes?

Take your time,
Mrs. Compton.

My daily was here.

We were preparing
food for a dinner

I'm giving this evening.

Was giving.

She, Mrs. Blakiston,

went into the barn where
we store the apples,

and when she came back,

she said that all
the fish in the
pond were dead.

I checked.

It's full of bleach.

I just didn't understand.

And then the
telephone rang,

and when I answered
it, he said --

He said,

easy to kill the fish,
easy to kill you.

The same voice?

Yes.

And you still
can't recognize it?

And you can't
think of anyone,

anyone who might
be doing it to you?

No.

Mrs. Compton?

No.

If that doesn't constitute

a direct threat
on my wife's life,

I don't know what does.

Well, she certainly
seems to be the target.

All right, so what
are you going to do?

We'll make the
usual inquiries

and see what we
can pick up,

but as I said before,

in a situation like this

without any
positive leads.

Yeah, well all
I know is this.

If that bastard so much as

Iays one finger
on my wife,

I'll kill him,

and that's a promise.

It's not a very clever
one, though, is it, sir.

Now why don't you just
leave it to us, all right?

Not a lot to go on.

Well, we know what
we think of him.

What do you make of her?

I wouldn't say no,
if that's what you mean.

Don't mess about,
I'm being serious.

Well, typical I suppose.

Of what?

That sort of woman.

Bit of a bimbo.

Hand her a penny,
she knows more
than she's saying.

(unintelligible)

Oh, no, I haven't.

Of course, you haven't,

otherwise you wouldn't
have been able to drive

that van home, would
you, Mr. Hamilton?

Have you got
one of those

nice little balloons
handy Sergeant?

I never leave home
without one, sir.

What do you want?

On Monday morning
your wife was out,

I understand?

I'm not his wife.

I'm his significant
other person.

That's right.

You've been
out all night,

working with the
Salvation Army, ho, ho.

Yes, but you were
in first thing.

No.

Your significant other
person says you were, sir?

Yeah, well, I got
this mate, you see,

I've been out with him
showing his greyhounds.

You promised me you
wouldn't go anywhere

near him and his
rotten dog again.

That was Saturday.

I'll kill him.

I will.

I'll kill him.

For God's sakes, shut up.

What about her
and her dog?

What time did
you get home?

About 4:00.

And the papers still
hadn't been delivered.

I went in next day and
complained about it.

Poor little kid, eh?

Do you mind if we
have a look around?

What for?

I can easily
get a warrant,

an hour at the most.

Just tell me, what is
it you're looking for?

What about a
kid's bicycle?

I don't know anything
about a bicycle.

What are you looking
so worried about?

I've got a mate
works for the Council.

He gets this stuff for me.

Soap, bin bags, toilet
rolls that sort of stuff.

Yeah, all
right, he nicks it,

I sell it down
at the market.

You going to book him?

No, I'm going to
give him a medal.

Of course, I'm going
to bloody book him.

What is it this time?

Mr. Fletcher, I've had
the pathologist report,

and I must tell you
there's evidence

of sexual interference
before Paula died.

I shan't be releasing this
information to the press,

but it's bound to
come out sooner or later,

and I thought you
might like to find a way

in which you can
tell her mother.

I suppose in a way
we'd already guessed.

I'm sorry to be
hard on you, sir,

but there's still one or
two questions I must ask.

Did Paula wear lipstick?

Lipstick.

She might have worn some
when she went to a party

or something.

There's none in her room?

No, she always
used her mother's.

But she didn't wear
any to go to school,

that Monday morning,
for instance?

Of course she didn't.

Why do you ask?

Because she was wearing
some when she died.

It's in the
pathologist's report.

It would be a help if you
could ask her mother

to check to see if she's
got any lipstick missing.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Oh, yes, there was
one other thing.

I understand that
one of the people

Paula delivered
her papers to

used to give her a lift
to school most mornings.

Mike.

Mike Bell.

Yeah, friend of
yours, is he, sir?

Not friend, exactly.

We belong to the
same angling club.

Used to.

He gave up fishing when
his wife was taken ill.

She died last week.

So I understand.

So he's more of an
acquaintance, then,

you and Mr. Bell.

We didn't socialize, if
that's what you mean.

A drink, perhaps,
no more than that.

Why do you ask?

Because I thought
you might have
mentioned the fact

that he took her
to school in his car.

It just didn't --

it just didn't occur
to me, that's all.

I didn't think it
was that important.

No, sir, probably
not important at all.

Contents of the
girl's stomach,

chicken, chips and peas,

white bread and butter.

Dap of brown sauce.

Way to earn a living.

The chicken was still
partially frozen.

He reckons it had
come straight out
of the freezer

and gone in
the microwave.

It was only
partly digested.

He estimates it was eaten

about an hour or
so before death.

So he took her somewhere
before he killed her?

Not necessarily.

He could have killed her
after she had the meal.

Don't forget, she said to
the bloke on the phone,

same time tomorrow.

According to, Colin
Fletcher that's
what she said.

What was the
time of death?

Well, as near
as he could say,

it was sometime late
Monday afternoon.

The day she went missing.

That's right, yeah.

Any response to Horned Rim
Harry's TV Spectacular?

Yeah, it's been
pretty good, actually.

Fifteen sightings,
ten of them impossible,

the other five, dodgy,
but we're checking on it.

What about the bike?

Nothing.

Anything else?

Yeah, well, the plumber
seems to be in the clear.

We've got a statement
from the mechanic

who did his van, and four
witnesses who saw him

working in the churchyard.

All right, then he can go
to the back of the queue.

Anything turned up on
our famous computer?

The Hamiltons, sir.

They both got form.

He's been
down three times,

twice for receiving,
once for GBH.

He took a bottle to
someone in a pub.

Apparently, quote,
he's a devil when
the drink's on him,

a real Jekyll and Hyde.

What about her?

Two cases of
aggravated assault,

both of them on
teenage girls.

Is that it?

All right, thank
you very much.

Oh, Constable.

Tell me something,

why would a young girl

who never normally
wears lipstick wear it?

Probably to look
more attractive,

certainly to look older.

Thank you.

Right, I'm off to
get something to eat.

I'm starving.

The Canteen's
still closed, guv.

Good, life aint
all bad then is it?

Well, there you are, sir.

Marvelous response to your
TV appearance that night.

The phones haven't
stopped ringing.

Yes, it seems to
have gone rather well.

All sorts of
useful information.

The big news
is that we had an
anonymous phone call

from someone saying
that he and his friends

were messing about in the
churchyard that night

and rang the bell.

From what I could make
out it seemed to be

a bunch of
hippy travelers.

He said there's no
idea about the girl,

and certainly
didn't kill her.

All he could do was
apologize for any trouble

that they'd caused.

Sounds about right to me.

I can't see anyone
stuffing a body in a crypt

and then ringing a bell to
advertise the fact.

Yes, I'll buy that.

You have the bicycle?

Not yet.

Well, we can't expect
everything all at once,

can we, sir?

Anybody wants
me, I'm not home.

You've got a visitor.

Does my husband
have to know?

He's bound to find
out sooner or later.

It's just he's so
incredibly jealous.

I don't know
what he'll do.

How did you meet this man?

We were in London
for a book fair,

two months ago now.

George was with some
clients and he telephoned

the hotel saying he
was bringing them back,

that I was to meet
them in the bar.

So I went downstairs,

and there was
this man there,

and we just
started talking.

It was all entirely
innocent, I promise you.

I made it quite clear
that I was waiting
for my husband.

He never made
any sort of move,

we just talked.

Well, the next morning,

some flowers
were delivered

with a note asking
if we could meet.

My God, you could imagine.

Obviously
I hadn't told George
anything about the man

because he's so
horribly jealous.

He got into a fight once
before over nothing,

absolutely nothing.

Well, then the
telephone calls started.

I don't know how
he got our number,

we're not even
in the book.

At first I tried
to make light of it,

not to make it too heavy,
like sort of a joke.

But when he persisted,

I finally said that if
it carried on like that

I would put the matter in
the hands of the police.

All he said was all
right you bitch,

we'll see about that.

And all you knew about him
was his name was Lawrence,

but you didn't get
his surname.

I've seen him.

Well, that's why I made up
my mind I had to tell you.

You've seen him, when?

This afternoon.

I was driving into town

and the car behind me
kept flashing its lights.

And when I looked in
the mirror, it was him.

I braked instinctively,

and he drove past on.

You didn't get the number?

Well, I didn't think.

I was completely --

What about the car?

Well, I --

it was a
medium-sized sedan,

dark blue, I think,
black perhaps --

a Ford,

I think it was a Ford.

If he phones again,

I want you to arrange
a meeting with him.

Well, how can I do that?

Just try, just
play him along,

Iead him up the path.

That isn't my
style, Inspector.

And when you've
arranged it,

what you do is,

you tell me you don't
meet him on your own.

Or tell my husband.

Well, that's up to you.

Damien?

Leonard.

Leonard, listen.

Leonard, oh, please,
that's about $31.

Well, I could get you
one for 1 5 pounds,

but I don't think
you'd like the quality.

What?

Light green or dark green?

They have both.

The dark green are
You sure about that,

With your
complexion I would
have thought the blue.

They have Oxford blue

and they have
Cambridge blue.

I would have thought
the Cambridge.

Oh Leonard please,
listen to me,

it won't go with
anything you have.

I'm sorry, do you mind,

I am expecting a call.

He needs to use
the telephone.

I'll call you later.

I'm very sorry.

It's just that, people
try to phone here

and they can't
get through.

You mean I'm using the
telephone too much?

Yes, I'm sorry,
that's what I mean.

I'm sorry to let you know.

I have every intention
of reimbursing you.

Oh, it's not a
question of the money,

is it, Marion.

I told you before, it's
people can't get through.

I'm very sorry,

it won't happen again.

Yeah, well, all
right, okay,

Iet's just forget about
it now, shall we, okay?

The newspaper's torn.

Yes.

How did that happen?

Did it just now when I
pulled it out of the --

oh, Marion, look, it's
not going to work,

you staying here.

Oh, I see.

It's my fault.

I thought it
would be all right

having someone
around the house,

but I was wrong.

It's, I'm not
ready for it.

It's my fault, it's
nothing to do with you.

I can't pretend
I haven't noticed

a certain
amount of hostility,

however, I
would have thought

that as her sister --

Yes, well,

maybe that's the
trouble, you know.

Maybe it brings back
too many memories,

too many things
I don't need reminding
about myself.

I hadn't realized you
were into self-pity.

Look, Marion

I don't like you,

and you don't like me.

You never have.

The only reason we put
up with each other

is because you're
her sister.

Well, now she's dead

we don't have to
pretend any more.

(phone ringing)

Frost.

Cheer up, Governor.

We found the bike.

Come on, son.

Speak up.

There's nothing
to be afraid of.

What?

You found it?

He told me he bought
it from his friend.

That is stealing, Damien.

And sit up straight,
the man can't hear you.

That's all right, Damien,

don't worry about
the stealing bit.

I've got it back now,

and that's all
I'm concerned
about, all right?

Now, where did
you find it?

It was in the ditch.

I saw it when
I was in the bus,

so I got off
and I took it.

Yes, and what
about the bag?

Was there a
bag, you know,

one of those big
newspaper bags?

Threw it away.

What?

I threw it away.

So they're both there.

The Sun,
for the Hamiltons,

and the Bells,
Independent.

Yes, you better rush
these over to forensic.

They're likely to
find something,

Iord knows what.

Tell them to get their
finger out, will you.

I'm still waiting for the
results from that bike.

I've got two blokes
down with the flu,

and one up an Alp skiing.

Skiing?

Dear oh dear.

I can remember
when he was five
days in Little Hampton

and bloody
grateful for that.

Tell us about it, guv.

Oh, not to impoverished
family, Frost.

With the
chicken sandwiches

and the mugs of
cold (unintelligible).

Hey, Constable,
just a minute.

Bring those papers back
a minute, will you?

Look at this.

I knew there
was something.

See this tear.

I did the same thing
myself earlier.

This paper's been folded,
pushed into a letterbox

and pulled out again.

So the Hamiltons
are lying.

I was assuming it was
their letterbox

it was pushed into.

Assuming also it
was one of them

that pulled it out again.

I'm quite capable,
thank you.

Marion.

She was right.

You're not very
nice to know.

There you go, Governor.

It's a bit
(unintelligible).

Right.

Mr. and Mrs.
George Compton.

Married six years,

Iived in
London North Long.

Bought a farmhouse
three years ago.

Spent a fortune
having it done up,

including about ten
grand on the sprinkler

and alarm system.

Part of the local
smart set, naturally.

He's not particularly
well liked,

but no sniffers yet
of anything illegal.

General opinion
seems to be

that he's got
a quick temper

and she's
something of a teaser.

Quite a combination
I would have thought.

They stayed two nights

at the
White Tower Hotel

in Nightsbridge on
January 8 and 9,

advertising at
a book fair in Grovner

at the time she said
she met the bloke.

On September 23, 1989

he was up before the beat

for thumping a
Mr. Jeremy Medwin.

(unintelligible)

And that's it
for the minute.

Are you a
close family man?

I don't just mean
your wife and kids,

I mean, you
know, the rest,

your mother and
father and so on?

Do you keep in touch,

or is it just birthdays
and Christmastime?

No, no, we're very close.

Both Ann and I are
from large families.

And you know
what they're like,

in and out of each
other's pocket
all the time.

Sometimes too much,
I would have thought.

But on the other hand,
you always know

where to go when
you're in trouble.

Mind you, that's what
families are all about,

isn't it.

I remember one time --

Yes, yes, you
made your point.

(phone ringing)

Hello?

No, Gilmore.

Oh, yes, good
morning to you, too.

Forensic.

I certainly
have, fire away.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Thank you very much.

Right, there's nothing
on the bag or the bike,

but they've had the
two newspapers

under the microscope.

There's nothing on
The Independent,

but on The Sun there are
traces of black paint

and rust along the tear.

Match that, and
we're in business.

Come on, get on with it.

The place is empty.

I'm not working
with that thing

trying to claw
me to death.

All right.

Meow, meow.

Go on, get on with it.

The spectrograph analysis

of the sample taken
from the newspaper

showed three
layers of paint.

The bottom one was brown,
the middle one was gray,

and the top one was black.

Now, the analysis of
the sample taken

from Hamilton's letterbox

showed three
identical layers,

same color,
same composition.

Then I don't
see the problem.

We now have scientific
proof that the newspaper

was put through the
Hamilton letterbox.

Yes, but the problem is
that we can't prove

that it was either of them
that pulled it out again.

I mean, if the
(unintelligible)
tests had come up

with a decent
set of prints

that would have
been different.

But as it stands, it
means anyone could have

taken that paper out.

Why would they?

Who else would want
to make it appear

that the girl
never got as far

as the Hamilton's house?

And that's the one
and only reason

for those newspapers
to be left in that bag,

to make us believe --

Yes, I'm not that slow,
thank you very much, sir.

I want the Hamiltons
brought in

for further questioning.

I see, sir.

Obviously you
have other ideas.

As you're the executive
in control, sir,

if that's what you want.

That's what I
want, Inspector.

Then you'll want
a thorough search
of the house

for backup evidence
to show that the
girl was there.

Of course.

And as the Hamiltons
are out of the house

and we don't know
what time they're
going to be back,

you'll be authorizing
a sledge hammer

through the front door

and a bullet through the
dog's head, will you, sir?

Only I only say this in
view of the trouble we had

Iast month when you
authorized --

Have the house kept
under surveillance,

and as soon as the
Hamiltons return,

we'll move in.

Thank you very much, sir.

Oh, sir?

Forensic needs
to speak to you.

There's been a
bit of a cock up.

Oh, no.

What it boils down to

is that the paint
sample findings

might not be as
conclusive as we thought.

The tests were fine
as far as they went,

but what we
should have done --

I should have done --

was to have tested
other letterboxes

on the girls'
delivery route.

This I have now done.

And?

And several of
the letterboxes

came up with identical
spectrograph readings.

Oh, terrific.

How the hell does
that come about?

It seems some of the
properties in that area

are owned by the
same landlord.

Every four years the
exteriors are repainted,

standard colors,

standard specification.

So what you're saying is

that the girl herself

could have pushed
that newspaper

in any one of those
letterboxes by mistake

and then
pulled it out again.

I'm saying it
doesn't have to be

the Hamilton place, yes.

I really am
very sorry not to have
told you this earlier.

If you'd like me to
explain it to Mr. Mullett.

How kind of
you, young man.

Please be my guest.

Did you ever see that
film, "High Society"?

Bing Crosby, Frank
Sinatra, Grace Kelly.

That was a
really nice film.

Good story,

nice songs.

Shut up.

Sorry, Guv.

My money's still
on Colin Fletcher.

Mine's on Bell.

I'm interviewing him
about the murder

of a 1 5-year-old
girl he knows,

and it's like I'm trying
to set him double-glazing.

It's all matter of fact,

no emotion, nothing.

Well, his wife's
just died.

It's a very difficult
time for him.

I mean, blymie, if
anything happened
to my wife,

I don't know what I'd do,

or how I'd behave.

There's no way of
telling, is there?

Some people
rant and rave,

some people just tap
it down inside them.

Just no way of telling.

Maybe.

Oh, Inspector,
please come in.

Thank you.

Do you mind coming
into the kitchen?

No, not at all, sir.

It's warm in here.

I haven't got the
heating on in the
rest of the house.

There doesn't seem
a great deal of point.

Please sit down.

I'm sorry about this.

I've been going through
some of my wife's things.

(unintelligible)

Sorry?

Not the happiest
of pastimes?

No.

No, it's not.

Can I offer you some
coffee or something?

No, no, thank
you sir, no,

it's just a quick visit.

We found the
girl's bicycle.

I was wondering what
happened to that.

It was thrown in a ditch
between here and town.

Little kid had nicked it.

I see.

It was between the
double hation turn off

at the crossroads.

I was wondering if you'd
seen a car or something

parked there on your
way in and out of town.

No, I don't think so.

No, it was just a
bit of a long shot.

I'm just asking everyone
who lives out this way

you never know.

(phone ringing)

Excuse me.

9218, right?

Fine, how are you?

Yes, I'm just
going through some
of her things.

Yes, yes it is,
it has to be done.

Now rather than then.

Sunday?

Nothing at all,
I don't think so, no.

Yes, that would
be very nice.

1 :00 o'clock Sunday then.

Sorry about that.

Is there anything else

I can help you
with, Inspector?

No, thank you, sir.

When you gave the
girl a lift to school,

what did you do
with her bike?

It went in the
back of my car.

I have an Estate.

Of course you do.

Thank you, sir.

You any good at
tying parcels?

No.

My wife used to wrap
all the Christmas
presents herself,

she enjoyed it.

Me, if I tied a parcel,

it ended up like
an unmade bed.

Blow some of that smoke
in me face, will you

I'm getting the pains.

Naughty, naughty.

Oh, there we go, about
bloody time, too.

I'm not too sure
I like this.

Well, don't eat it then.

I mean us in here.

Now, what if laughing
boy finds out.

Don't you worry,
he won't find out?

Who ordered the Vindalu?

Me.

Chips.

Anyway, if the
heating had been on,

we wouldn't need to
be in here, would we?

Right, okay, where was I?

Mr. Bell.

My money's still
on Fletcher.

No, no.

Concentrate on Bell.

Thank you.

He's at his wife's
funeral, right,

and it starts to
pour with rain.

Now, he's got
a grandstand view

of the plumber
tweaking the lock

and breaking
into the crypt.

Later on,

he needs somewhere
to hide the kid's body.

Now, who'd
think of looking
in a place like that?

If it hadn't been for
those spaced-out hippies,

would we?

We didn't even meet the
girl in the morning.

No, I know, not
in the morning.

Don't forget, the
post-mortem showed

that the girl didn't die
until the afternoon.

Are you saying he went
to his wife's funeral,

then met the girl
and killed her?

That's exactly
what I'm saying.

That's a bit
stronger there, guv.

Where's your motive
and where's your proof?

I don't know where
he killed her,

but I think I know
why he killed her.

And that completes the
case for the prosecution,

your Honor.

Yes, all right,
thank you very much.

I don't believe
what I'm seeing.

We've all got to believe,

otherwise why are
we put on this earth.

He'll go ape-shit.

Well, don't just
stand there,

pop out and get
us another six-pack,

will you?

There's a good fellow.

We just got a call
from Mrs. Compton.

There's an intruder
in the place,

and her old man's
gone after him.

I've got a car on its way.

Inspector.

Over here.

We found him inside.

Poor bastard.

I presume he's
the house holder

It's Compton, all right,

what's left of him.

Let's get away from here.

All right, come on then,
tell me what happened?

The place was well
alight when we got here.

We radioed for
the fire brigade,

and after we ran and
found Mrs. Compton.

You went in there?

Of course not.

She was around in
back in a nightdress,

on the lawn unconscious.

Well, where is she now?

Somewhere in the village.

What happened to
the sprinklers?

The water supply was
turned off at the main.

Well, get in touch with
the hospital, doctors,

chemists.

Anyone requiring
treatment for burns,

we want to know about it.

You're already
in hands, sir.

The crowd's got all the
cars keeping an eye out

for anyone suspicious.

Well, done, son.

You too shall
have a sweetie.

Oh, boy.

Hi, Jack.

Hi.

Didn't expect to
see you here.

I only come
out to keep warm.

Come on then,
what do you reckon?

Petrol, it's all
over the place.

We went to bed
just after 10:00.

George.

George had an early
start this morning.

I woke up suddenly,
I don't know why,

and he was standing
by the window.

He said that there
was someone outside,

and that he was going
down to take a look.

I was to telephone
the police.

I asked him not to,

but he said he was
going to teach

whoever it was a lesson.

I was to stay in the
bedroom and lock the door.

I waited.

And then I heard shouting

and things being
knocked over

as though they
were fighting.

And then it all
went quiet again,

and I don't know why,

but something made me
open the bedroom door,

and there was smoke
coming up the stairs.

And I could hardly see.

And I got downstairs,

and all the time I was
calling out for George,

but he didn't answer.

And I got to the door

and out into the garden,

I could hardly breathe.

And I was calling
out for George.

And I went round the
side of the house

and looked in,

and he was lying
there by the table.

I called out to him,

but he couldn't hear me.

And then I was
screaming and screaming.

And then, nothing.

I should have made him
wait for the police.

I should have stopped him.

She's had enough.

Well though it's only a
matter of some three days

since the girl's
body was discovered
in the church crypt.

My offices have been
working round the clock

to bring the perpetrator
of this appalling
crime to justice,

and I can assure
your listeners

that an arrest will
be made very shortly.

Oh, yeah.

Thought you'd
like to know,

Arthur Levine
and Tony Price

will definitely
be on Monday.

Whoopee.

Well, don't say we
don't keep you informed.

Bill.

Organize me a search
warrant, will you?

Good morning, sir.

I have a warrant to
search your premises

in connection with the
death of Paula Bartlett.

Excuse me, sir.

Well?

Nothing, but then
what'd you expect?

You never know, sergeant.

You just never know.

I wonder if you'd
be good enough

to unlock your car, sir.

And the boot, please sir?

Excuse me sir.

Wait a minute.

What's that?

Come and have a look
at this, will you, sir?

She was very proud of that
little charm bracelet.

Her father gave it to her.

Perhaps you can explain

how it came to be in
the back of your car?

Watch someone slowly
dying day after day,

night after night.

With the smell of death

in every corner
of the house.

And there comes a time

when you die
a bit yourself,

And you get
frightened.

And you get lonely.

and you need --

you need some
sort of reassurance

that you're still alive

and the juices
are still flowing,

and the old man on the
white horse still hasn't

quite got his
hands on you yet.

In my case, it was work.

It still is.

Damn all else
to be honest.

In your case, it was a
15-year-old schoolgirl

offering
herself to you,

because as luck
would have it,

she was in need

of some sort of
reassurance herself.

That's what
happened, isn't it?

And if I'd been
in your shoes,

who can say?

You don't know, do you?

You just don't know.

When I came back
after the funeral,

she was here
in the kitchen.

She let herself
in the back door.

We keep a key in the shed.

I suppose I must have
mentioned it to her

at some time.

I asked her what
she was doing here.

And she said she'd had
a row with her parents

and she didn't
want to go to school

and just wanted
someone to talk to.

She was very upset,

and so I let her stay.

I suppose didn't want
to be alone, either.

She was starving,

so I gave her something
out of the deep freeze,

and we sat
here and talked.

And she told
me about Colin,

her stepfather
and how she hated him

and how she couldn't
bear the idea

of him in bed
with her mother

and how she wanted
to punish them.

And why shouldn't she have
someone in her life too,

and she began to cry.

I put my arms around her,

just to comfort her,

and she was kissing me.

And I wanted
to stop her,

I should have
just stopped her.

It was her first time,

and afterwards
I was so ashamed.

I was horrified
at what I'd done,

but she was dancing
around, laughing.

And she was in a
kind of hysteria,

and she said she was
going to stay here

and look after me.

And then she went
to the dressing table

and started to put on
my wife's lipstick.

Look, look, she said,

I'm just like
her, I'm a woman,

doesn't matter what
they say, I'm a woman.

And she lay there
on the bed naked

with this lipstick
all over her face.

It was grotesque and
I told her it was wrong

and that she must
never tell anyone.

And suddenly
she was screaming

and shouting that
it was all my fault,

and that I told
her to come here

and that Colin could
prove that he'd heard
on the telephone

she pretended to
make a phone call

to me to upset him,

just to annoy him.

And she was
banging on the window

and shouting that
I'd attacked her.

And I pulled her away,

and she was kicking
and struggling

all I wanted to do
was stop her shouting.

And I put my hands
around her neck

and I didn't
mean to kill her.

As God is my witness,

I didn't mean to kill her.

And that night

you drove her
to the cemetery,

and on your way you
noticed the paper

sticking out of the
Hamilton's letterbox,

and you realized if you
could get rid of the bike

and the two newspapers,

it would look as though

she'd never
reached this house.

Yes.

It was very clever
thinking, sir,

under the circumstances.

It was an accident,

and I'll live with it
for the rest of my life.

So will her parents sir,

I wouldn't wonder.

It's all ifs, isn't it?

If we hadn't had
a row that night,

if Colin hadn't joined
the Angling Club,

if it hadn't come on
to rain when it did,

it's all ifs.

What time will
Mr. Fletcher be back?

I'd like have a
word with him,

giving him something
of a hard time.

He won't be back.

He's gone.

It would never
have worked out,

not in the long run.

I never did trust him,

not fully.

Maybe if I'd
never met him.

There you go, you see,

another one of them ifs.

I just thought
I'd double-check.

Fifteen silver charms,

one for each birthday,

all present and correct.

Is that a fact?

That is a fact.

I don't know,

wonder where the other
one came from then?

You took one hell of a
chance there, Governor.

Mrs. Compton here?

Yeah, she's downstairs.

Good.

Because I'm just about
to take another one.

Mrs. Compton, thank you
very much for coming in.

I'm sorry to have
kept you waiting.

The thing is, we've had
a terrific stroke of luck.

Now, this bloke that's
been threatening you,

Lawrence
something I think you
said his name was?

Yes.

Lawrence Tidyman,
we got him,

picked him up last night.

Not only have we got
him, he's confessed
to everything,

about meeting you,
threatening you,

going to the
house last night.

All we need for
you to do

is to make a
positive identification.

Do you think you
can do that for me?

Well, I'm not sure.

It's all right,
don't be afraid.

He can't do
anyone any harm.

You're saying
this is the man,

Lawrence Tidyman?

Yes.

Sorry?

Yes, yes, this is him.

That's funny, Sergeant,

we've got him down as --

what was his name again?

Zoltan Piminiski.

He died in a road
accident last night

at 9:00 o'clock.

He was over here
from Hungary,

visiting his sister.

She's just identified him.

Oh, and he didn't speak
a word of English.

You tell a very good
story, Mrs. Compton.

A bit too good
for my taste.

A bit too smooth.

You know what us
common folk are like.

Give us a drop of caviar

and we're yelling
for the rock salmon.

Oh, and I was at the
bank the other day.

bank manager over
there owes me a favor.

He left your husband's
file on the desk

while he went outside
to play with his abacus.

And even knowing what kind
of a nosey bugger I am.

Your husband was up
to his ears in debt.

The house is in
hock to the bank,

you've got
creditors galore,

and the business took
a nosedive 15 months ago

with no chance
of recovery.

And my bank manager,

my friendly bank manager,

he's a bit of a
cynic, you know.

You know what he said?

He said the only way
to save the family bacon

would be to have a nice
little insurance policy

and a bloody big fire.

Well, you've had
the bloody big fire,

what about the insurance?

I know nothing about
the financial side
of the business.

George took care
of all of that.

Then let me enlighten you.

The house and
contents are insured

for three-quarters of
a million pounds.

Your husband also carried
two hefty life insurances.

You're a very lucky
woman, Mrs. Compton.

Mind you, the way
I understand it,

most of the money
he lost was yours

in being long on the charm

and short on
the readies.

Must have been very
unnerving for you.

Do you think I give a
damn about the money?

Quite frankly, my dear,

I don't think
that you give a damn
about anything else.

A providential fire,

business on the rocks,

sprinkler system turned
off at the mains.

No, no insurance
company's going

to pay out on that.

So what do you do,
you invent this
imaginary weirdo

who makes phone calls
and sends you flowers.

You even get us involved

to add that bit
of authenticity.

It was George's idea.

I wanted nothing
to do with it.

I believe you.

Or I would have done

if I hadn't read the
pathologist's report.

Your husband
suffered a severe blow

to the back of the head,

and, according
to the pathologist,

he was unconscious
before the fire started.

So now, apart
from the imaginary

Mr. Lawrence Tidyman,

who else stood
to gain the most

by knocking your
husband unconscious

and leaving him
to die in that fire?

You think about
it, Mrs. Compton.

Forensic are going
over Bell's place now.

They've already
found evidence of
the girl was there,

some hair, some fibers
they're pretty certain

will match the
sweater she was wearing.

It'll stand up,

if that's what you're
worried about, sir.

About this woman,

this Mrs. --

whatever her name is.

Compton?

Pronounced Compton.

She'll cough, given time.

But the fact remains
in both cases you acted

without a shred of
concrete evidence.

I know they've done it

and I knew we'd
get the evidence,

necessity being the
mother (unintelligible)

One of these days
you'll learn that to
operate efficiently,

you'll need more
than your well-known
intuition.

I use more than my well
known intuition, sir.

At least on one of
the cases, I did.

I used my charm.

It's a joke, sir,

don't bother
to work it out.

All right,

Iet me have both
reports in writing.

Yes sir.

Just a minute.

Can you--

Can you smell something?

Like what, sir?

Like curry?

It's this fire, sir?

Oh, yes, it's
definitely the fire

I'd switch it off
if I were you.

Well?

One, she only did it
because she found out

her husband was
cheating on her,

and two,
she wants a solicitor.

Then she shall have
one, Constable.

Give her a cup of tea,

in a nice cup.

All right, Mrs. C?

You bastard.

No sugar.