Original subtitles

Trouble. What?

Incoming. My dynamic dad.

I hope you're here to do some work, Daniel,

not stopping other people getting on with theirs.

You bet (!)

Plenty of material, Cully? Oh, loads, Mr Webster.

And the press release? Not quite finished.

We did put one out last week.

Well, the tunnel's the crucial part of the project.

We need something in a national. I have tried.

Ah, no time for that, Mum.

Timothy Webster's come to tell us to pull our socks up. We're volunteers!

RUMBLING

Hey!

INSISTENT CAR HORN, THUD OF MUSIC

Come on! What are you doing?

Get out of the way!

HORN

DRIVER: What a smell!

DISTANT SIREN

It's not there.

What's that, sir?

It's on the desk.

Aren't you going to open it?

If I haven't got the exams, then the whole thing...

Superintendent Hopkins

wants to see you at Force Headquarters in an hour's time.

And Superintendent Blaney from Northumbria Police, he called.

Can you phone him back?

Is that good news or bad news?

Troy, do you want me to open it for you?

I've got it.

"Inspector" Troy!

What does er...Mr Hopkins want?

Well, I imagine he wants to talk to you

about reconsidering taking that job in Newcastle.

Find out.

You knew.

Well, there was circumstantial evidence.

I thought, what with you going,

I'd better start rehoning my detective skills.

FHQ. One hour. You'd better get going.

(CHUCKLES)

PHONE RINGS

Barnaby. CID.

Oh, hello, Cully.

I'm sorry, love. I can't hear you.

What is it?

What's happened?

This way, sir.

We've tried to get to them from the other side. No chance.

This is the only way in.

Or out.

Can you hear anything?

Still distant, but there's shouting. We know they're in there.

We know they're all right.

BIRDSONG

HIGH-PITCHED BARK

DISTANT BARKING

Look out!

MAN: Help! Can you hear us? We can hear you!

Have you got a torch?

Are you there?

I can see it. The light.

There!

Come on.

Nice day for it, young 'un.

You dirty old git!

You're always sneaking around. Is this what you get off on?

It don't bother me, boy.

Yeah? Well, it bothers me.

In fact,

you bother a lot of people.

You want to do your flies up.

(BARKS)

Uhh!

Someone should teach you, scumbag!

Yeoww! Aaargh!

CAR ENGINE

CAR APPROACHES

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

PHONE RINGS

Yes?

Oh. Hello.

No, I hadn't heard. Is anyone hurt?

Oh, good.

(CHUCKLES) Something to celebrate, then?

A serious setback for friend Webster.

Ha! Excellent news.

Look... Look...

What's to find?

It may be of interest to an archaeologist, but not the police.

An odd one. Anonymous phone call.

You thought, "Anything weird, take it to CID"?

Well, while we've still got you.

Midsomer Worthy.

Attack on an old man. "Tom", they call him. A tramp. Harmless enough.

We've had trouble with yobs before,

usually nothing more than loud music and fast cars.

Only it's getting more serious.

The caller says Tom's been beaten up.

Who phoned? A concerned villager.

He's given us a description.

It could be you.

Got anything vaguer?

Well, that's why I brought it to you, a detective of your seniority.

It was the darkness that was the worst.

Once we could hear you digging, we knew you were close.

REPORTER: ..work on the tunnel?

He'll get the canal project into the national papers now.

Webster had no right to send anyone into that tunnel.

He is a qualified engineer. He runs a bus company!

Anyway, he didn't SEND anyone.

We were all volunteers.

What was it you said about "Save the Midsomer Canal"?

A good gossip and a few afternoons hacking down weeds?

Well, we'll have plenty to gossip about now.

Constable Crabbe?

There's something you might want to have a look at, sir, in the tunnel.

Mostly, it's bones, sir.

Bones? That's it.

There's a surprising quantity of dead people in there.

When the roof caved in, it brought some of the wall with it.

There's something on the other side of the wall.

More precisely, NOTHING on the other side, which is odd.

It's another tunnel, I'd say.

I can't see how far back it goes.

How many are there?

Three.

So far.

What does he look like?

They all look the same. Young.

Caught with his trousers down.

I shouldn't have laughed. It's nothing to joke about.

That's the second time these boys have attacked you.

I was well protected.

What?

HORN

Looking for your guvnor?

No, I'm trying to find a man called Tom.

Doesn't live anywhere. That's my brief.

I've got some vague directions to a wood or a hill.

Is the DCI here, then?

He's over Norton way now, at the canal.

Where else? His missus was in the tunnel when it went.

When what went?

It's lucky no-one got killed. I thought you must be on your way.

I am.

I didn't know. No-one said.

I was driving over to Midsomer Worthy and I bumped into Crabbe.

It happened so quickly.

They're both...all right?

Yeah. They're all right, thanks.

Mrs Barnaby was... In there?

Joyce - if there's something to be saved, she's right there saving it.

Usually it's something small and helpless.

Do you want me to take over here? No, it's all right.

Bullard's in there. A formality.

There's some old bones to look at for the coroner.

You'd better go and find your Wild Man of the Woods.

Straightforward?

There are some broken bones.

I'd say, broken at the time of death or thereabouts.

Consistent with a tunnel collapse.

And, so far, we have the remains of...four?

More or less.

It must have been an accident.

Standing here, looking at it, it's too easy to imagine, isn't it?

You know Joyce was in the tunnel?

Mm.

Hey, George, have a look at this one.

Yeah. No.4. Cranium badly fractured.

Consistent with falling rocks and masonry.

How long have these bones been here?

As far as we know, walled in at the turn of the 18th and 19th centuries.

So it is inconsistent for this one to have National Health fillings.

I can only guess it's another tunnel, off from the existing one.

I don't know whether it's blocked or if they just never dug any further.

It could be a mistake. The navvies could have hit hard rock and changed direction.

Well, it was sealed up with at least seven bodies in it.

Thank you.

I don't suppose that was a common occurrence.

Well, I can't understand why...

Ah.

This is Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, darling.

This is my wife Lillian. Have you come to arrest him?

(LAUGHS NERVOUSLY) There's been a fall in the tunnel.

It's created some kind of a chamber. They've found old bodies, skeletons.

He was lucky he didn't leave a few new bodies there today.

This isn't a joking matter.

Your canal has never been a joking matter, has it?

(SIGHS)

Hello?

Anybody here?

Tom?

You see, contour canals were Sir Jonathan's trademark.

You see how it meanders, following the contours of the land?

It minimises the need for locks, cuttings, embankments and tunnels.

All of which pushed the building costs through the roof.

Anyway, it made him very popular with the investors.

Sir Jonathan Haslett. He was only 38 years old at the time.

The Midsomer canal made his name - and his fortune.

It was the age of great engineers,

but engineers who could make great profits for their investors,

well, they were a lot thinner on the ground.

I'm devastated, Mr Barnaby.

No-one will go back into that tunnel,

until a full engineering report has been carried out.

I'll have someone down there tomorrow.

Ah, no, sir, I'm afraid that's not possible.

For the moment, no-one goes into that tunnel at all.

What do you mean?

Seven dead bodies, Mr Webster. That's what I mean.

But they've been dead for the best part of 200 years.

All but one. He has much better teeth than any of the others,

due almost entirely to his 20th-century dental work.

Now, your...tunnel could become the scene of a murder inquiry.

DISCO MUSIC

If I can help, if it can be cleared up quickly,

it'll be in all our best interests.

Thank you, Mr Webster. I'll be in touch. Thank you.

DISCO MUSIC STILL PLAYS

If you're going out, you can turn down that damned music now.

It's not my "damned music".

Turn it down, Lillian!

MUSIC BOOMS

THUDDING CAR STEREO

DANIEL: Let's go!

Where are we going, guys? The woods.

The woods? Why? We want to shoot!

What are we going to shoot?

Bunnies!

Come on! Let's go!

Not much space there!

Woo! LAUGHTER

Woo!

Half a lager, please.

How's the job?

The job? Takes one to know one.

Charlie Birkett. I'm an ex copper. Retired now.

Now, he hasn't got an official reason to spy on us all.

We just put it down to nosiness.

You can call it what you like, Helen.

A little bit more of it would mean a lot less crime.

So, well spotted.

Well observed, anyway.

I've seen you with Mr Barnaby.

Oh.

You don't know a man called Tom, do you?

Tom...I don't know what. I can't get a surname.

He doesn't seem to live anywhere or do anything.

I've been looking. He's a hard man to find is Tom.

He could be anywhere or nowhere. He comes and goes.

The best man to ask is Lord Fitzgibbon, up at the hall.

Aye.

"The Odd Couple", we call them.

You'd think a tramp could find better company than an Appeal Court judge.

(CHUCKLES)

Lord Fitzgibbon.

Evening, sir.

Are you a canal freak? Indeed I'm not.

I'm a police officer. Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I'm sorry. I...I should know.

I hope this means the end of Webster and his ludicrous canal.

I'm sorry? This canal runs alongside my land.

It's been happily decaying for almost a century.

I like it that way.

It must be too dangerous for Webster to continue.

I can take it you don't approve of Mr Webster and his er...plans?

I don't.

You see, grubby money isn't enough for Webster.

He's angling for a knighthood.

A bit tasteless, a spot like this.

How many bodies were there?

Seven?

Eight? Nine?

Oh, we can't be sure, sir.

Oh.

I'll try another injunction - on the grounds of safety

or...the fact of a mass grave.

Nothing's worked so far,

but I get the satisfaction of costing Webster money.

They should fill the thing in,

make the hill whole again.

A fitting memorial to all those men killed by greed.

I have it on good authority he won't get that knighthood. Don't tell him.

BELL

KNOCKS

FLUTTER OF WINGS

(CHUCKLES)

These things shouldn't just be left lying around like this.

I wasn't expecting visitors.

It's hardly the point.

Old farm implements.

I like them.

Do you have a reason for poking about on someone else's property?

You're Lord Fitzgibbon? Mm.

Detective Sergeant Troy.

That gives you no more right to be here than anyone else.

Unless, of course, you suspect a crime has been committed. Do you?

I'm looking for a man called...Tom.

RIFLE SHOT

WHOOPS OF LAUGHTER

TWO MORE RIFLE SHOTS

RIFLE SHOT

RIFLE SHOT

DANIEL: Woo! SIMON: Woo!

Come on! Faster!

Woo!

What made you think you'd find Tom here?

He's got some sort of camp, is that right, on your land?

I don't know that he considers it MY land.

You see, Tom doesn't believe that land really belongs to anyone.

It's the other way round.

We belong to the land.

You know Tom well?

I'm proud to say I do.

We've had several anonymous phone calls.

Well, there are a lot of newcomers to the village.

They think he clutters it up.

These weren't complaints.

Someone was worried about how he was being treated,

especially by young lads.

The last call said he'd been attacked.

It's true.

Do you know by who? I don't know their names.

The yobbos. High time something was done about it, though.

Still, I'm surprised you turned up.

They usually send a social worker.

It wasn't you who made those phone calls?

(CHUCKLES)

I've never been one for anonymity, Sergeant.

If I've got something to say to the police,

I assure you, you'll know all about it.

WHOOPS OF LAUGHTER

Where is it? Where is it?

Give it here. No.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Left.

You're meant to shoot it!

SHOT ECHOES The yobs.

Driving about in the woods, shooting at everything that moves.

They keep off my land. My gamekeeper shoots at everything, too.

Oh, don't worry. Every time he hits a teenage boy, we bury the body.

There's no evidence.

If you do hear anything about Tom, I'd appreciate a call.

With guns about, I don't want anyone getting seriously hurt.

There's nothing to stop you picking them up now, Sergeant.

If they're driving about on the public highway with a firearm,

for no licensed reason,

they're breaking the law.

RIFLE SHOTS ECHO

There. I can't see anything.

A fox there, by the big tree. Behind it?

Nice one. Come on. Let's go.

Yeah.

VIXEN SHRIEKS

TWO RIFLE SHOTS

VIXEN SHRIEKS

RIFLE SHOT

VEHICLE APPROACHES

MORE RIFLE SHOTS

LAUGHTER

Who is it? It's Dirtbag!

LAUGHTER

You want to get yourself killed?

You don't do this. Not here.

If you kill to eat, that's right.

Killing just to kill, that's a wrong thing.

You have to stop. Oh, "a wrong thing"?

We mustn't do "a wrong thing" (!)

It's not only the life you take away.

You do yourself harm.

What's inside,

you kill that, too.

I have to stop you.

Oh, I'm so scared (!)

Get out of the way.

STARTS ENGINE

REVS ENGINE

I will drive straight over you.

HORN

Woo! Woo!

SIMON'S HORN

ENGINE REVS

OWL HOOTS

ENGINE, HORN

HORN

LAUGHTER

You want to get yourself killed?

FLUTTER OF WINGS

(SCREECHES)

TWIG SNAPS

Are you Tom?

Are you all right?

We've had several phone calls.

From someone in the village, I'd say.

They reckoned you'd been attacked by a group of teenagers.

Someone's obviously concerned about you.

My name's Troy. I'm a policeman.

I'm er...walking.

I heard shots.

If you are in any trouble...

Hang on!

I've been looking all... Tom! Wait!

OWL SCREECHES

FLUTTER OF WINGS

OWL SCREECHES

FLUTTER OF WINGS

OWL SCREECHES

RAUCOUS LAUGHTER

ROWDY, DRUNKEN CHATTER

Do you think you could move?

A lot more easily than you can, Grandad (!) How is the rheumatism?

LAUGHTER

Just get out of the way.

It's a joke, Mr Birkett.

Most people in this village don't have the sense of humour of five-year-olds or the manners.

We won't put up with it.

MOBILE PHONE BEEPS

Don't do anything I wouldn't do.

See you, guys.

THUDDING CAR STEREO

(SCREAMS IN AGONY)

Aaaargh!

CAR DOOR CLOSES

Aaaah!

Help me. Help me.

Give me a hand. Get me out of it.

No. Please. No.

DISTANT POLICE RADIO

CAR DOOR OPENS

Troy.

Cause of death?

A bullet or bullets.

Low calibre.

No exit wound. Point-blank range.

Well, he wouldn't have run very far, would he?

He was one of the teenagers I was going to talk to today.

Teenage boys harassing the old bloke Tom.

Simon Mayfield was on the list.

Some of the lads were in these woods last night with a rifle.

Doing what?

"Lamping" is what they like.

Catching rabbits, foxes, vermin in car headlights. Shooting them.

Whatever else was happening,

this is a calculated, premeditated murder.

Where do you want to start, sir?

I don't.

I have got an unidentified body, 30 or 40 years old.

A suspicious death.

You started this, Troy. You can finish it,

Inspector.

What's next then, SERGEANT?

Securing the scene'd be favourite.

The crime scene is very secure, Constable.

Although, it will be helpful if you don't add any more footprints to the ones we already have.

What I need from you is a list of anywhere and everywhere in the area

a person might find a mantrap.

I wouldn't know where to start.

There's no shortage of the things on Lord Fitzgibbon's estate.

I suggest you start there.

TROY: Does Daniel have a rifle?

No.

Your husband?

No.

Though I'm sure you're right, most guns belong to men,

I don't have a rifle either.

Do you know if Daniel was shooting last night with his friends?

Is that how Simon died?

GATE CREAKS

Where were you shooting?

Simmons Wood. A couple of fields off the forest road.

And there was one rifle? Steven's. His dad's, anyway.

You shot some rabbits, nothing else, then went to the pub.

So Steven has the rifle? I suppose. If he went back for it.

Back for it?

Dirtbag Tom.

This old tramp. He was, well...

He was standing there in front of us,

when we were... leaving the woods, he...

He took the rifle and chucked it. How do you mean?

Simon stopped.

Tom launched into this row, about us killing God's little creatures.

Then he snatched the rifle and chucked it into the hedge.

He's a nutter. Everyone knows.

Simon put his foot down and we went.

Leaving the rifle.

It doesn't matter now, does it?

You let Tom take the rifle? He snatched it. He just chucked it.

You should have picked it up! We were going to go back. I forgot.

You were pissed. Mr Curtis,

the important thing I need to know now is when your son last saw Simon.

I'm sorry. We're all...choked. Simon was erm...

Was it a car accident?

You said he left the pub first.

Was he going home?

He didn't say.

How did you get home?

I walked.

What time did you get here?

Half eleven. I was still up when he came in.

What is all this?

I want to know about the shooting in the woods and this run-in with Tom.

They're just kids. If this nutcase took the rifle -

Mr Curtis,

the rifle in question is licensed to you.

You had no right to let it out of the house unless in your possession.

As for the Firearms Act,

the fact your son left it by the roadside doesn't mean you won't be facing prosecution.

Is that what this is all about? Petty bureaucracy?

A boy DIED last night.

That's right, Mr Curtis. Simon Mayfield was shot through the head,

we believe, using a .22 calibre rifle.

Are you the search party?

You're lucky to have us.

You should have had your guvnor do the shouting.

Three or 300, you won't find a rifle if Tom's got it.

A waste of time looking.

I'll take your advice, Constable, and just waste YOUR time.

Search a radius of 50 metres from this spot. Every inch.

If you can establish where the missing rifle isn't,

I'll come back later and start you looking for where it IS.

You two can help me find Tom.

There'll be some backup, but we'll make a start.

Oh, mantraps. What have you got?

That's it, so far.

Lord Fitzgibbon and two pubs?

They have them on the wall. Any come off the wall?

Bring the patrol car.

How do I get back?

I'm sure the walk'll do you good.

Archaeology or murder?

I'm not sure.

But I found out what happened to the tunnel.

It was a cave-in, reported in the papers at the time.

Mr Webster's great engineer didn't come out of it too well.

Eight men died in all. They weren't even dug out of the rubble.

The chamber was sealed, the vicar said a quick prayer

and the very next day they were digging again.

The 18th-century approach to Health And Safety At Work!

The local papers accused Haslett of putting his investors' interests

before the lives of his workers.

The canal company was going to go bust, if he didn't keep to schedule.

He did.

He seems to have made very sure that a very nasty little bit of history

was quite forgotten by the time he got his knighthood.

That will satisfy the coroner, but we do still have our friend here.

Have you got any more on the skull?

It's not impossible the damage was accidental,

though, if I had to pick an implement, I'd go for an axe

and axes rarely fall on people's heads accidentally.

I can't tell whether the fracture

occurred before or after death.

If it was before death,

it's traumatic enough to have been the cause.

I've a list of people missing in the area over a period of ten years.

Assuming he was local.

Whoever put him in there knew exactly what was behind that wall.

Hm.

You could be lucky with the teeth. Far better than he deserved.

A fine testimony to his dentist.

Fillings, but unusual bridgework, I'd say, done at a dental hospital.

And this is just in.

I haven't even started yet.

Oh, that's not mine. That's Sergeant Troy's.

You won't get much further this way, Sergeant.

(SIGHS)

What's wrong with the front drive?

I was trying to get closer to Tom's camp.

It was a good hour's walk yesterday. And it will be today.

All my roads are like this.

The whole estate is returning to the anarchy of the natural order.

I have one gamekeeper. His only job is to keep people out.

How far are you prepared to go to do that?

I don't use mantraps, Sergeant.

I still need to find Tom.

You said you were his friend.

Indeed.

Well, as a friend, you may want to help me find him.

The alternative is an arrest warrant.

TROY: You took the rifle from Curtis?

I don't know.

He says you snatched it.

I don't know.

You must do, Tom. I saw you there.

The boys, Steven Curtis, Simon Mayfield and Daniel Webster,

they'd only just driven away.

I don't know names.

Did you take the rifle?

He fired it.

He fired it at me.

They were...

Just killing. Blood for fun. That's...

That's not right. I told them.

You took the rifle and you threw it in the trees.

Did you pick it up again?

You were the only person there.

Except for you, Sergeant. You can testify that he didn't come back.

After I'd left, Tom?

Where is it, then?

He doesn't know.

I'd appreciate HIS answer.

You've had it, Sergeant, and I'd like to talk to Tom alone.

I haven't finished yet.

For the moment, you have.

Tom is entitled to legal representation.

So, my old friend is my client

and you can all start walking back to your cars.

You get the feeling Tom is being protected, certainly by Fitzgibbon.

Other people want to lynch him.

Did you find out who made the anonymous phone calls?

Some of the kids think it's a man called Birkett. Ex-copper. Retired.

I've spoken to him. He denies it, but they could be right.

A busybody. He doesn't like the way the village has gone.

Too many newcomers.

Birkett? I know that name.

Oh, he'd have been around in your time.

It still IS my time, Troy.

I didn't mean - I came across his name

today or yesterday, in the land of the living,

not in the land that time forgot.

No, sir.

Dental records have come up with a name for our tunnel body.

A Mr Eric Edwards.

Got him!

PC Birkett. The village constable who reported Eric Edwards missing.

In 1965.

CID didn't do much of a job.

If you set out NOT looking for a body,

you're not very likely to find one, are you?

He's still walking around. Why isn't he locked up?

No-one knows what happened yet. A nutcase walks off with a rifle.

He threatens us. Simon gets shot with a rifle.

Any conclusions you draw from that, Sergeant Troy?

"What's a conclusion? Is that some kind of a clue?" What do they need?

Don't think you're going to get away with it, you crazy bastard!

We'll get you. Do you understand?

We know where you live, Tom.

Steven, what are you doing?

Vermin, Daniel. That's what a shotgun's for.

Go away!

You scum! Get off me!

A death for a death.

It will come to you.

Just like the others.

Tom?

Are you here?

All I want to do is talk.

Just talk.

The bloody judge is at it again.

He's served another injunction.

This time, it's safety. What's it got to do with him?

Maybe it should have something to do with somebody, darling.

It was all right for the Great Explorer to lose a few workers,

but, these days, we have court.

I'd happily sue you. I'm just surprised there isn't a queue.

It'd be nice to have a little bit of support for a change, just a little.

You... You really expect me to support

the time and money you've spent on this canal?

For what?

Industrial heritage (?) You don't know anything about it.

I know you've thrown good money after bad.

You've let the business go,

while you play at being Midsomer's great canal restorer.

None of the people you think matter give a damn about this knighthood.

You're still the bus driver who made millions.

While you're losing it, they're laughing at you.

I'm trying to do something that counts, Lillian.

There's a dead boy.

It could have been Daniel.

No. What do you mean, "no"?

No, it couldn't.

All right?

Look, isn't there ever a moment you think we could stop all this?

There was.

Sometimes, there was.

But it's too late.

I don't even like you.

And don't pretend you like me.

Mr Birkett. Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I know you. I knew you - you were a DS. You won't remember me.

Eric Edwards was reported missing on the first of February 1965.

He'd left his home a week earlier.

His wife and his son had not seen him since then.

But "this is not an unusual occurrence". Your words.

That's a long time.

I do remember. Erm... Eric wasn't exactly regular in his habits.

More out of work than in.

You didn't like him?

Well, it wasn't a question of liking or disliking. I had a job to do.

Eric liked a drink, a lot of drink.

He didn't always make my job very easy.

Is there any family left?

Lettie...

died young.

His wife.

Erm... About 1973. Maybe.

Children, brothers, sisters?

The children were long gone.

They left home before he went.

I don't know where. Never came back. Maybe for their mother's funeral.

Mrs Edwards received a letter from him, in the May of 1965.

From Sydney, Australia.

This is a copy of that letter.

You may remember.

No, I can't say I do, but she must have given it to me.

No wonder we couldn't find him.

Indeed, but not because he went to Australia.

What do you mean?

We've discovered Eric Edwards, buried in the tunnel wall on the canal.

He didn't die a natural death and he didn't write that letter.

Do you think somebody killed him?

I certainly got that one wrong, didn't I?

The trouble is whoever did it

I'd say you're going to have to dig them up, too.

All we can do is cancel everything, in terms of publicity.

We don't know when the tunnel will reopen or how safe it will be.

How much longer will your father be looking into this? I've no idea.

Surely you could ask him for an indication?

Mr Webster, I don't know anything about it. It's police business.

Yes. Yes, of course.

I just hope he understands that there's a lot riding on this.

Why?

If the opening's held up for six months, it doesn't matter.

This hasn't been financed by shaking tins outside supermarkets.

I've put a lot of money into this, a hell of a lot.

Mr Webster, I'm doing the publicity for the canal project, that's all.

The business side, well, that's nothing to do with me.

These bodies have been there for 200 years.

Now, what is all the fuss about?

Those "bodies" were people

and it's stirred up memories now.

We should all sing about it around the village green

or dance around the bloody maypole!

How's it going?

I think your father just fired me from a job I volunteered for.

Oh, he's pretty fed up. It's like someone's taken away his train set.

Except it isn't even his.

Do you need a lift? I'm only going into the village.

I'm finding things to do, anything to do, really.

Just stops you thinking.

All right.

This is the original wild-goose chase, sir.

I've been looking for Tom all day.

If Fitzgibbon doesn't know where he is, no-one does.

Do you think he is covering for Tom?

I don't want to go at it like a bull in a china shop with Tom,

but I've got to interview him.

He's the only suspect and he can hide behind two blades of grass.

If it carries on, we'll have to take dogs in.

CRABBE: Is it the same?

Yeah.

I'd say exactly the same.

Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm on my way.

The dog handlers are on to Tom. Finally. We've got him.

Tom...whatever,

I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Steven Curtis.

Hello, it's Tom Barnaby again.

Yes, yes, I'm still at it.

Listen, have you got anything on blacksmiths in the Midsomer villages,

18th or early 19th century, round about that?

He still hasn't said anything.

Can't we give him a bath?

Forensic haven't finished. Your orders.

Tom...

The first thing we need is a name.

Your surname.

What is it?

Please, tell me your name.

He'll have to spend the night in the cells.

I'm sorry, Tom.

I can do nothing if you won't talk to me.

Someone selling something.

(SIGHS) Oh, I'll go.

Could ignore it. No, I couldn't.

Look, don't you move.

It's a lord for you, Tom.

What? Lord Fitzgibbon.

I've no idea what he's selling, though.

Lord Fitzgibbon... Ah.

I'm sorry to disturb you.

I wanted to talk to you about Tom.

As his lawyer?

Well, perhaps we can leave that until tomorrow, Chief Inspector.

Tonight I'm here just as his friend.

I hope Sergeant Troy doesn't get his interview technique from you.

Very leading questions.

That's not on with a man who isn't...

isn't quite in control... intellectually.

Troy thought you admired Tom.

I admire what he is.

That doesn't equip him for interrogation.

He's in a cell. You can't do that to a man like Tom. He won't cope.

You won't get anything out of him. Who is he?

You've known him a long time, you claim to be his friend.

Hasn't he told you anything about himself?

Surely he's mentioned his surname.

He didn't kill those boys. I don't need to know anything else.

He threatened to kill Curtis.

He's told me he's innocent.

Well, if that is true...

Sergeant Troy will clear him and send him home.

He doesn't have a schedule, Mr Barnaby.

There's no-one to vouch for him.

He'll be frightened, say all sorts of things. What then?

You wheel in a psychiatrist who says Tom's not fit to plead.

If you go into court with that we know it reduces the burden of proof,

however much the law says otherwise.

Even if he's not convicted he could end up in a psychiatric unit.

He'd be better off with a lethal injection.

Do you think that Tom is entirely sane?

Saner than either of us.

In his own environment. He's not in it.

We need to know what went on. He just has to tell us the truth.

I'm a judge.

I know the law's strengths and weaknesses.

He doesn't have a chance.

What am I supposed to do? Believe him.

What, just like that?

Yes.

No-one is going to bully him.

He will be treated sensitively.

I can't say any more than that.

The late Eric Edwards. You found a photo?

Archives had lost half the files, but we did get there...eventually.

However, having identified Mr Edwards...

..I don't know where to go with it.

Whoever killed him, buried him,

whoever wrote that letter from Australia,

I've got to agree with Charlie Birkett, they're probably long gone.

How's yours going?

Well...

The PM report on Steven Curtis confirms it was the same killer.

Hit over the head, three bullets from the same .22 rifle.

Tom?

Downstairs. The village is up in arms.

People want to know why he wasn't brought in before.

I'd probably ask the same question myself.

He was the last person seen with the missing rifle.

You didn't have any evidence, did you? You talked to him.

Maybe I didn't talk enough.

Do you think he did it now?

Do you think you ought to take over?

YOU have still got to ask Tom a lot of questions.

And if I were you I'd get about it quick

before his lawyer arrives. Lord Fitzgibbon?

He's very sure that Tom didn't do it.

You've got to get on with it.

Oh, er, Troy...

just one thing...

What made both those young men drive into the woods by themselves,

in the middle of the night?

It wasn't to consult with poor Tom about the ways of the wild, was it?

Can you tell me some times, somewhere you were,

someone you talked to who saw you,

who saw you yesterday?

No air.

It's dark. Did YOU see anyone?

The gibbon.

The gibbon?

Lord... He was there.

Erm...you.

You were there.

I er...

I don't want to be here.

No air.

I can't abide walls.

What did you do yesterday?

I...

I never dug in a wall.

Start again. Where were you?

I er...

I er...have to go.

I can't breathe.

You'll... You'll put me away... in the dark.

Tom, just tell me what happened.

He er...

He went away.

He er...always went away.

Only...

he didn't come back.

He couldn't.

Sorry about that, sir.

That's all right.

Don't put me in the dark place. Let's have a break.

Some tea...

What do you think he's been talking about?

It's got nothing to do with what's just happened in Midsomer Worthy.

I can't get any sense out of him at all.

He's somewhere else.

Somewhere much more frightening.

My name's Tom, like yours.

It was my grandfather's name.

Some families, you know, they carry these things on down the generations.

Is Tom a traditional name in your family?

You did recognise this man, didn't you?

His name is Eric...Edwards.

He disappeared almost 40 years ago.

Did you ever know Eric Edwards?

Never knew him.

Walls, Tom.

You talked about walls to Sergeant Troy.

That's not now, is it?

That was then.

You're frightened because of something that happened before.

I've been in that tunnel.

I know how it feels. And how glad I was to get out into the...

the air, into the light.

Have you ever been in that tunnel, Tom?

Last time I wore this suit was to a wedding.

Now I've got funerals. I shouldn't have.

When all this is over I won't want to wear this suit again.

I know you shouldn't have to remember all this. Not at your age.

They were my best friends.

I'll never have mates like them again.

Daniel...look, you're leaving school this year.

University next. It's time to start again.

Time to...forget.

What about you and Dad?

Time to start again?

(SIGHS) It's no good pretending we've been happy.

Not for a very long time.

But you've got a new life.

You don't have to make the mistakes we made.

I guess I can make my own.

I've been looking at the history of the canal...

Came across the minutes

of the Midsomer Canal Company in the library.

All that stuff about the accident is missing.

But there is an interesting bit.

"The second day of May, in the year of our Lord 1801..."

It goes on... Ah, here it is.

"..ordered that the sum of ã12

11 shillings and nine pence

be paid to Mr Edwards, blacksmith...

..in discharge of his bill for iron work to the wheelbarrows,

for the use of in the said navigation.

I discovered a bit more about Mr Edwards.

Eric Edwards...

was a direct descendant of his...

this blacksmith.

And the blacksmith's name was Thomas.

Thomas Edwards.

Tom.

Eric Edwards was my father.

He went to Australia.

That was the last I ever heard from him.

I think we should talk, Mr Birkett.

What about now?

I could start with falsifying evidence, Constable.

And then move on to obstructing the course of justice and maybe even accessory to a murder.

Why don't we pay a call on Lord Fitzgibbon?

I wasn't involved in hiding the body.

I knew about it but it was done before I was involved.

By?

The Edwards. Harry had a brother, then some cousins.

Presumably they had a reason.

Eric wasn't just trouble.

He was a very violent man.

He beat hell out of Tom and Lettie.

I was called in several times but she always lied about him.

This night, he was laying into her. Put the boot in.

Tom cracked.

He picked up an axe and he hit him.

He killed him.

I'd already started a missing persons enquiry

when Lettie told me what had happened.

I had to stop the hare running.

Oh, the letter from Australia. How did you arrange that?

Lettie had a cousin. He knew Eric of old. He was glad to help.

You don't intend to do anything about this, Barnaby, surely.

Were you part of this?

Not then. I got to know Tom later.

I knew enough to pick up the pieces.

I knew Charlie had always kept an eye on him. Charlie told me.

Well, you've both done the law proud.

Has justice been ill-served?

You know better than anyone what happens

if you start to pick the bits of law you like and the bits you throw away.

Guilty as charged.

But time does matter.

Do you think a judge would put Tom in jail now?

You can't undo it.

I don't care much for your arguments, Judge.

But I do care what happens to Tom.

Most people don't know how to heal their wounds.

Something heals Tom's

without him knowing.

I think you overestimate...

the peace you've given Tom down the years.

What exactly did you expect to find? A note from the murderer?

Sergeant, have you found out any more?

Tom is a suspect but so far there is no real evidence.

We will find out what happened.

We will find who killed your son.

You know who killed him.

I've spoken to most of his friends.

Was there anyone else who might have seen him that night?

A girlfriend?

Wasn't really anyone special. Not for a while.

Well, there was - Why drag things up, Eleanor? You don't know -

Of course I do! What does it matter now?

What do you know, Mrs Curtis?

Steven was seeing someone.

And I don't think he really wanted anyone to know about it.

You've no idea who this was.

None. You don't expect a boy his age to tell you where he's going.

They contacted each other by text messages.

You'd hear a beep - he'd disappear upstairs...

the oddest times, have a shower and go.

Do we want all the details? Oh...

We haven't found a mobile phone, Mrs Curtis. Is it in the house?

No. That phone never left his side.

Not much from Simon Mayfield's parents,

but they said he was less forthcoming about where he went.

His ex-girlfriend was onto something.

They split up two months ago. Because he was...

At it with some old slapper.

That's very elegantly put.

Her words. But she didn't know who it was.

Anyway, I'd say we've found

what made those boys go into the woods at night.

What about the mobiles?

No trace. Simon had one.

And Steven.

Very unlikely they didn't have them with them.

Especially if the assignations were made using texts.

One thing's for sure - Poor Tom doesn't have a mobile phone.

If you can't find the phones, can you get details of the calls?

They'll be here tomorrow.

And then we'll have the killer.

You said you'd gone shopping. Mm. Look what I bought.

I want this to stop.

I'm celebrating.

Changes, Timothy. Big changes.

At least Daniel's going to be out of it.

I've had enough.

Doing it at home is one thing. But sitting here...

Watch the image, darling. I'm watching YOU!

This stops right now. No more of that. Understood?

Very macho (!)

What if it doesn't?

One way or another... it will stop, Lillian.

I promise.

Text messages. Two to Simon, two to Steven,

sent on the nights they died.

Who sent them? Untraceable phone.

Call card job. Cash paid, false name.

And the good news?

No shortage of calls from an older woman.

To both phones, going back months. Lillian Webster.

Lillian Webster?

They were calling her too, all the time.

I doubt it was to ask how things are going on the canal.

No. So that's it.

A woman scorned, eh?

It doesn't sound like she was being scorned to me.

But Timothy Webster was. And how.

Tom.

No more questions, Tom.

I'm going to let you go home.

Come on, sit up.

No-one will come looking for you again, I promise you that.

No-one will lock you up. It's finished.

Do you understand?

She was my mother.

I still remember...

He would have killed her.

It was a long time ago.

You go home.

Forget you were ever here.

Mr Webster!

Mrs Webster!

She's dead.

Tom, is there anyone I should tell? Lord Fitzgibbon...

Anyone who should know you're back?

What needs to know knows.

Good morning.

Hi.

Hi.

You shouldn't be here.

I'll probably go to my aunt's in Causton.

I can't get hold of her. She won't know yet.

Do you want to go for a walk or something?

Get away?

I know there's really nothing much to say but...

I'm quite good at not saying anything.

A confession?

Yeah. All three murders.

And Mrs Webster was involved with the lads, Mayfield and Curtis?

What's the matter? Is something missing?

Not missing, just...not right.

Mostly I remember them rowing.

Even as a kid in the old house, I used to lie awake at night...

Voices through the walls shouting at each other for hours.

His prints will be all over the rifle now.

Ballistics will show it was the same gun that killed the two boys.

But I still don't know how he got it.

It was left in a ditch after Tom threw it there.

And he used text messages to get the boys into the woods.

Yes.

So he must have used another phone and then thrown it away.

Could that be right?

He didn't say that.

He said he used her phone. But he didn't.

Those dates were from an untraceable phone.

He didn't do it.

He's confessed.

Why confess... to three murders you didn't commit?

Including the murder of your wife.

Why go to all that trouble to protect someone?

It's the son.

Daniel.

Where's Daniel now?

I phoned the house to...

Cully went to see him.

They've gone for a walk.

I don't think he ever hit her but it was like...

it was like she goaded him.

She'd say things to embarrass him.

If people were round for dinner... he'd try and shut her up.

The more he tried, the more she'd wind him up.

And then when they went, another great row,

with her pressing all the buttons.

I suppose she never got much of him.

That's no excuse for what she...

For what she...

That was just gross.

Bloody, bloody gross.

Now's not the time to remember the bad things.

I only remember the bad things.

They were laughing at me.

You'd laugh at your mate if you were screwing his mother.

Simon, Steven... That's what it was. That's what she did to me.

That's why...

That's why I had to kill them.

To stop it.

That's why I had to kill her.

They're walking. They can't have gone far.

Right...

I want you to spread out from this point.

Every field, lane...footpath...

When you see them approach them carefully.

We've got no reason to believe - Sir.

Hi, Dad.

Daniel has something he needs to tell you.

To the future. To new directions.

And old friendships.

Old friendships.

So, you may be ready to go back to Middlesbrough but...

is Middlesbrough ready for you? What?

Will they be able to understand a word you're saying?

Eh?

Was that a southern slur?

No way! There's no southern slur to the way I talk.

Say that again, Troy. I think I hear some Middlesbrough coming back.

You got no further with the skeleton. Edwards, was it?

Eric Edwards.

Can't find out what happened. Not after all this time.

Bit of a mystery.

Well...

can't solve them all, Sergeant. Oh, I'm sorry - Inspector.

Thank you, sir.

Midsomer will miss you.

And I'll miss Midsomer.

Good luck.