All language subtitles for Dalziel.and.Pascoe.S03E03.Bones.and.Silence.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor1

- How am I supposed
to get through

the evenings alone?

- Judge Brack could
look in while I'm away.

- I'd be delighted, Hedda.

I'll be round every evening.

We'll have a lot of fun
together, you and I.

- Sure.

You'd like that wouldn't you?

Being the only buck
on the block.

- I wish she'd stop mucking
about with those pistols.

She shot herself.

Shot herself in the face.

- I don't believe it.

She's actually shot herself.

Well people don't
do such things.

"Dear Mr. Dalziel,
you don't know me,

"but I know you.

"Everybody in the
town knows you.

"That being so I want
you to be the

"first to know that my
New Year's resolution

"is to kill myself.

"I don't want you to do
anything about it.

"But I do want you to know.

"The need to confess runs
deep in the human soul."

- I still don't see
why she killed herself.

- Because she was trapped.

- The man's right, people
don't do such things.

- Give me time, sweetheart.

- Honestly it was one of the
best ones you've done, really.

- No.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

The Swish family, Pascoe.

Ellie.

And the gorgeous, Peter.

Did you enjoy the play?

- Peter thinks Hedda
was murdered.

He wants to re-open inquiries.

- Of course she was murdered.

Now.

Let me look at you.

Peter, my love.

- Is there something my best
friend's aren't telling me?

- Eileen's casting.

- I'm looking for God.

- Aren't we all?

- No I don't play God.

Most of the time I sit
at his right hand.

- Now there's an idea.

- The fat man playing God.

- Are you crazy?

- And you, my darling,
are brilliant.

- I take it all back,
there is a God.

Hey, hey!

No!

No that's crazy!

Keep away from me!

Keep away!

No!

Stop it!

Help!

No!

Stop, don't move!

She's crazy!

Oh God.

God!

Oh God!

- Good evening gentleman.

Mr. Waterson here will confirm
that I'm a police officer.

Detective Superintendent
Dalziel.

I don't recognize you, sir.

- Swain.

Phillip Swain.

- And the lady on the bed?

- Is my wife.

- That's evidence you've
got in your hand, Mr. Swain.

It's your fault!

You murdered her!

You saw what happened.

She tried to kill herself.

God!

Oh!

What happens
now, Superintendent?

- I don't know about
people breaking

the commandants on my patch.

Ask Mr. Waterson.

It lowers the value
of the property.

Therefore, gentleman, you
are both under arrest.

Peter.

You're an educated man.

You know about female
psychology.

Do women commit suicide?

- People don't...

- Do such things.

- Who says?

- Henrik Ibsen.

You know Ibsen?

- Oh, I saw him in a play, once.

He's a good actor,
he gets leads.

Anonymous letters.

From a woman.

Threatening to kill herself.

In your own time.

Don't make a meal of it.

- My wife was trying
to kill herself.

- That's all the rage.

- She had a gun.

She was waving it about
with her finger

on the trigger, anything
could've happened.

I tried to stop her.

But she turned the
gun on herself,

and she pulled the trigger.

- Where'd you get the gun?

It was her gun.

- Where did she get the gun?

- She was American, she
always had a gun.

Probably a present from daddy.

- And how did your
wife come to be

in Mr. Waterson's boudoir?

- They were having an affair.

- Of which you were aware.

- No.

I came round for a
discussion with Waterson,

and I found them.

Just calm down.

No!

Calm down.

- Keep away from me!

Keep away!

Calm down.

No!

Alright
stop, don't move!

You're crazy!

You're both crazy.

Stop!

- So you arrived and
found your wife

trying to kill herself.

- I didn't know what to do.

I pleaded with her.

I almost managed to do...

But what's that to say about me?

I mean, as her husband.

Soddy builders.

I wish they'd hurry
up and finish.

Swain and Stringer.

That's where I knew the name.

It's your firm, isn't it?

Building our new carpark.

- Quite so, right.

I hope you approve of the
quality of our workmanship.

- I bet Cheops didn't
make this much

row when he was building
the Parthenon.

Sign it.

- Sorry, sir, Cheops
built the Great Pyramid,

not the Parthenon.

- He was doing a bit
of moonlighting.

All builders are alike.

- There.

Happy now?

- Personally.

Pack of lies.

We'll give you a
room with a view.

Make sure your lads don't
cheat on their overtime.

- He thought his wife had
gone to America 10 days ago.

- And he expects us
to believe that.

- What was Swain doing at
the house in the first place?

- Waterson's an architect.

Swain said he went round
on the off chance

to discuss plans for
a housing estate

Waterson was designing for him.

Business meeting.

- At midnight?

- Business meeting
where most of his

wife's pretty blond
head got splattered

all over the bedroom walls.

- What does Waterson
have to say?

He got a sudden attack

of the post traumatic,
have doubts.

Doc filled him full
of snake oil,

and sent him to the hospital.

- Caught us in the middle
of our therapy.

- Sergeant Wield.

CID.

- Excuse me, I'll look
in again later.

- Friend of yours?

- Pamela?

No, a wife.

Well the wife.

The only one I've got.

We're living apart,
of course, but...

- You're still good friends.

- Well that would be
pushing it a bit.

I've written it all out,
what happened last night.

I've signed it.

Or does it have to be
typed to make it legal?

- No.

It has to be typed
to make it legible.

- Sorry.

It's my architectural
handwriting.

Very stylish, but nobody
can read it.

Tell me what what
happened, Mr. Waterson.

- Gail was threatening
to kill herself.

She was going crazy, waving the

gun about.
- You're both crazy!

- Philip tried to grab it.

There was a bang.

I got a bit hysterical,
so they tell me.

- We'll call in again later.

See if you remember
anything else.

Now you're no longer hysterical.

- Pascoe.

Waterson confirms
Swain's statement.

I'll leave it to you
to tell Mr. Dalziel.

- Yeah, thanks, Wield,
I'll tell him.

- Okay, yeah, I'll
call back later.

Dr. Moorwood?

- Yeah.

- Mr. Waterson's your patient.

- Yes.

- Sergeant Wield.

CID.

How is he?

- He's a terrible waste of
a very good hospital bed.

- Why do you say that?

- Pamela used to bring
him to staff parties.

He's an opinionated little
man, and a faithless

husband, into the bargain.

- And medically?

- Nothing wrong with
him physically.

- Psychologically?

- Subject to violent
mood swings.

Off the record, I'd
put him out to

pasture at the funny farm.

Not my department, thank
God, but this is.

- Waterson's made a statement.

He confirms Swain's
version of what happened.

- They're saying that
two fit, able bodied men,

were too feeble to prevent
one hysterical

female from shooting herself?

They're also making
out I'm a liar.

I know I saw Peter.

- Well, when you've made your
witness statement, we can...

- What?

- You're a key witness,
basic procedure.

You have to make a
formal statement.

- Here's my statement.

Philip Swain is an evil
sod, who killed his wife.

And I'm gonna have him.

End of statement.

- Sign here.

First, when I
wrought this world, so wide.

Wood, and wind, and waters one.

Heaven and hell was
not too high.

With herbs and grass,
thus I began.

But of the tree,
of good, and ill,

I said, what time
thou eats of this?

Man, thou speeds
thyself to spill.

Thou art brought out
of all thy bliss.

Alright for sound?

Direct line from here.

- Yet think they not,
that they shall die.

All that ever I said should be,

is now fulfilled
through prophesy.

And therefore now, is
a time to make...

To make ending of man's folly.

That was great, Eileen.

- You the lady from the theater?

- Well hi, Canon, I'll
be right down.

- You say you like this woman?

- Yes, she did a
wonderful modern

dress version of The Gondoliers.

Set on the Grand Union Canal.

- I can only imagine
what she might

do with the King James' Bible.

- Canon Horncastle.

Mrs. Horncastle.

I'm Eileen.

This is Ellie, she's
handling press,

and publicity for the show.

- Unpaid.

Of course.

You cannot serve God,
and man, dearest.

It's in the book.

- Did I hear you refer to
this production as a show?

- Certainly, I did.

We're both in the same
business, Canon.

- Really?

- The ritual of a church
service is pure theater.

The ritual of a theater
is pure religion.

We're celebrating our
common humanity.

- And our impending mortality.

- I suppose you realize
I personally

can't get permission for the use

of the cathedral,
nor can my wife.

Okay, so
tell me, who gives

the permissions round here?

The chapter, acting
on the advice of the Bishop.

The chapter?

The Central Committee,
the Supreme Soviet, right?

- Not the words I would choose.

- And do you advise them?

- Yes.

- Excellent.

Now.

Let me take a good,
close look at you.

- What are you doing?

- She's looking for someone
to play the part of God.

Are you alright?

- Is anybody?

- Well I suppose I'm not bad.

- Forgive me, I just like
to come here to the chapel.

It's a way of escaping.

- Escaping from...

- All the things that
are not alright.

- It's open.

Oh, I'm sorry to
bother you, Mrs. Waterson.

You're obviously tired.

- I worked a 12 hour
shift, came to bed,

half an hour later
the phone rang.

Said me relief had had a
car crash, gotta go back.

Just another day in
the caring professions.

- Well you must be good.

I mean.

To be a ward sister,
at your age.

- What is my age?

- Late 20's?

- 24.

- I've never been
very good at ages.

- I'm 24 years old,
and I'm in charge

of the valley of the
shadow of death.

Try to lead a healthy
life, Sergeant.

- Noted.

And when did you leave
your husband?

- Three weeks ago.

Because of Mrs. Swain?

- I didn't know her name.

I knew she were blonde with
long legs, they always are.

- But when I walked in,
the two of you were...

- Holy mother of God.

Yes?

Right.

Okay.

Another crisis?

- Yours, not mine.

My husband seems to
have done a runner.

- You lost him.

- My instructions were
to take his statement,

not to arrest him.

- And what did you make of him?

Before you mislaid him.

- He seemed relaxed.

But his doctors say he's
subject to violent mood swings.

- Violent?

That's a nice word we
can use in evidence.

- What's more on Mrs. Swain.

Cause of death, massive
brain damage,

caused by...

- Blowing her head
off with a big gun.

Their brilliant these
people, aren't they?

- Blood alcohol level 155
milligrams, per 100 milliliters.

She'd had intercourse a couple
of hours before her death.

- What a way to go.

- And she was a heroin user.

- Swain never mentioned that.

Seymour.

- Sir?

Come here.

You searched Swain's
house this morning?

- Yes, sir.

- Find any drugs?

- Drugs, no one said
anything about drugs.

- No one said anything
about Barbary apes,

but if you'd seen a
couple fornicating

on the kitchen table, likely
you would've mentioned it.

- Likely I would, sir.

- Why didn't you
tell us your wife

was a heroin addict?

- She was from a rich
family in California.

They used these drugs
as casually

as you might use alcohol.

Don't deny she had her problems.

But she'd been in therapy,
and I honestly

thought she'd come through it.

Not according
to the medics.

More perforations than a teabag.

And what about your
mate, Waterson?

He's an architect who

happened to be working with
me on a housing development.

- Now he's vanished
into thin air.

Just when you needed him.

That's what friends are for.

- I've heard stories about you.

They don't get anywhere
near the truth.

- Well, like they say.

Only God can make a tree.

Right lads?

Outside.

- Mr. Dalziel.

I have nothing to add to the
statement I signed earlier.

I'll sign it again if you like.

- You can sign a check twice,

it won't stop it bouncing.

- If you're trying
to make him sweat,

I'm not sure you're succeeding.

And you're overlooking
one possibility.

- What am I overlooking?

- He might be telling the truth.

- Philip Swain wouldn't
know the truth

if it sprouted out of
his belly button.

- Well while you've
got him here,

I can go to his place, and sniff

around dark, and dusty corners.

- Yeah, good idea.

Take young, what's-his-name
with ya.

Give him a lesson in how
to be shifty and underhand.

- Right.

- Listen Wieldie, don't...

- Andy.

I'm looking for my client.

- Which one?

Bluebeard or Crippen?

- Philip Swain.

- Malice well, Wielde,
if ever you're

in bother, I mean real bother,

get this man here
to represent you.

Eden Thackeray, the last
refuge and a scoundrel.

Well get it on with
Master Swain,

then we can crack a bottle.

Come on.

- We're in business Ellie.

A dollar to a doughnut,
we'll get

Canon Horncastle's blessing.

- You told him he
could play God?

- He thinks I did, but I didn't.

- You're gonna double cross him?

- For sure.

The man's a lousy hypocrite.

Oh I think he's
an excellent hypocrite.

- We'll compromise.

I'll cast him as John
the Baptist, and

cut the part in rehearsals.

And don't forget, you
promised to have

a word with Andy about
playing God.

Welcome to Moscow Farm.

Moscow Farm?

She reckons it's
on accounts the temperature.

Well I can
understand that.

Who's she, anyway?

Shirley Appleyard,
she looks after the office.

Ms. Appleyard?

- Mrs.

- Sorry, you don't look
old enough to be married.

- I'm 19, how old
do you have to be?

- Do you enjoy working here?

- It's a job.

- Jobs aren't easy to come by.

- They are if your dad's
a partner in a farm.

- Oh, Mr. Stringer.

- He's my dad.

- Do you see much of Mrs. Swain?

- Not much, no.

- Do you remember the
last time you saw her?

- Week past Friday.

Saw her in yard.

She said terah, well not terah.

Made American.

Bully with that, she didn't
expect to see me again.

She's left to States,
wasn't she?

- Oh apparently.

- She didn't expect me to
be here when she got back.

- Why not?

- Farm's on its knees.

Once we've done that
job for your lot,

we'll all be left
at knocker's yard.

- You read a lot of books?

- I like books.

Have you read Jane Eyre?

Yeah.

- Has it got a happy ending?

- Yeah.

- Never mind.

- You prefer unhappy endings?

They're more
lifelike, aren't they?

You think so?

- Ask Mrs. Swain.

- Does one of those
open the big barn?

- Yeah.

But there's a knack.

It needs a woman's touch.

Did you know
Mrs. Swain was into drugs?

With her
sort of money,

she could be into whatever
she wanted.

- So, why should
she kill herself?

- She was married, wasn't she?

It's all yours.

- It's not used for anything?

- Mrs. Swain had ideas of
turning it into a squash court.

Or a gym, one of them
wealthy, American ideas.

Mr. Waterson did some plans.

But Mr. Swain weren't so keen.

So it's always been full
of old farm machinery.

- I don't see any
farm machinery.

Mr. Swain
sold it for scrap,

a couple of days ago.

Made me laugh, that did.

- Why?

- Sold it to a dealer
called Swindles.

Joe Swindles.

Do you know him?

- Alas, poor Joe,
we know him well.

What's that?

It's only bats.

Pipistrelles they're called.

You're alright, they're
hibernating.

And rats have gone, since
me dad swept place out.

But you've seen enough,
haven't you?

- Aye.

- Anything else?

- Yeah, where's Mr. Appleyard?

- Working away.

Down in London.

- So you live on your own then?

- No.

I live with me parents,
down at village.

- Do you get along with them?

- They're alright,
considering they're married.

Considering they're God fearing.

- And you're not?

- God?

He don't bother me,
and I don't bother him.

I'm off.

- Did you find anything?

- No, nothing.

- You found Waterson yet?

- Not a sign.

Found him on the
computer though.

Got a conviction for
possession of cannabis

when he was a student.

- Better tell the
FBI, and Interpol.

- What's that?

- Andy's been getting
anonymous letters.

From somebody threatening
to commit suicide.

- Flavor of the month, suicide.

"Time is not the great healer.

"Time is the great enemy.

"You look back and you
can just glimpse

"the last time you were happy.

"You look ahead, and you can't
even imagine the next time.

"All you can see are thousands

"of pointless moments.

"A world of pain without end."

Does that sound like
a man, or a woman?

- Andy says a woman.

I can't decide.

I mean he or she's
got access to a

typewriter, so that narrows
it down to a few thousand.

I'll ask forensics
to have a look.

- Better idea.

Ask Ellie to have a look.

Oh, is it here?

Yes.

I should have known

it was a theatrical party.

- We made a solemn promise
to a beautiful woman.

- You see, it'll be white wine,

and wall to wall fairies.

Just make sure your
knackers don't fall off.

- What?

- 'Cause you'll have
to kick it all

the way to Brent before you dare

bend down to pick it up.

- Speak to your husband, Ellie.

He's turning into a homophiliac.

- So, we'll leave you two to get

to know each other better.

- So.

You're the one?

- According to local legend,
you're the one, Andy.

- Yeah.

Well it takes one to
know one, doesn't it?

What's that boger doing here?

- Mr. Dalziel.

- What's this?

Part of the grieving process?

- No, my wife loved the theater,

and Eileen is lining my firm up

as a prospective sponsor.

- Why don't you line him
up as a prospective Satan?

- Perhaps I already have.

Excuse me, it's showtime.

I'll catch you later,
Andy, my love.

- So is it true?

About Satan?

- No comment.

- I'll catch you later.

- No long speeches.

I'm just here to give
you my solemn

promise that in a
few weeks time,

your beautiful cathedral
will bear

witness to the most
dramatic event

seen in this city, for
nigh on 400 years.

It will be a community
production,

in the true tradition of
the ancient mystery plays,

with ordinary folk, playing
out the eternal drama

of good, and evil.

I'm especially grateful
to the man

who's been my link with
the cathedral authorities.

So how about you all
put your hands together,

so to speak, for the
gentle, and patient,

Canon Eustace Horncastle.

Antichrist!

Sabbath breakers!

This is a shameful display.

- Should you intervene,
in your police capacity?

They're flying
in the face

of holy scripture.
- Senior officer makes

- the decision, chain
of command.

- Just like the CFE?

- These people have got
no right to be involved.

- Mr. Stringer is there
something we can...

- Hi.

My name's Eileen,
this is my party,

and you're very welcome.

"Remember the
Sabbath day and keep it holy."

Exodus 20, verse eight.

- "Wasn't the Sabbath
made for man,

"not man for the Sabbath?"

Mark two, verse 27.

- You'll not flummox me
with clever quotations, Mrs.

What's more, I know
hypocrites when I see 'em.

You reckon to be doing
a religious play,

with common working folk.

But I don't see any common
working folk in here.

City Council, rotary
club, university teachers.

Thems not common folk.

They're not religious, neither.

Not a Christian among
the whole boiling.

- I couldn't agree more.

But, we need time to
talk it through properly.

And not on a Sunday, right?

For one thing, I need to know

who made this brilliant banner.

- I did.

The lettering's
terrific.

- Sure, always good at art.

- Just wait a minute...

- We've got lots we
need to talk about.

Lets look at diaries, shall we?

- She's brilliant.

Give her 10 minutes,
she'll have young Shirley

doing the box, as her
mother's sewing costumes,

and old man's stringing
blind Moses.

- I envy a woman like that.

- Envy?

Isn't that a sin?

- Probably.

My husband would know.

But promise you won't
cast the first stone?

- I'd probably miss.

So, do we
have a deal Andy?

God wise?

Have you really cast
Philip Swain as Lucifer?

Yes I have.

Casting is the secret
of all drama.

When you look
at the world,

what a bloody mess
it is, Satan's

gotta be someone like
Philip Swain, doesn't it?

And God's gotta be
someone like me.

Yeah.

I'll drink to that.

I'll drink to the whole boiling.

- And that one's yours, so yeah.

And there.

Mr. Pascoe.

- Mrs. Appleyard, what
are you doing here?

- Just brought way
to stare at lights.

Aye, she's a right go at that
Eileen Anstiss, isn't she?

- Yeah, I think she probably is.

- I'm hoping to design
sets and costumes.

- And is your dad playing Noah?

- No.

But he is letting up a
bit of our wood from yard.

And I finished Jane Eyre.

Right let down, isn't it?

- Is it?

- She settles for being
a housewife, don't she?

Domestic bliss.

Sod that for a lark.

See ya.

Is the controller
in residence?

- No.

But another one of those
letters has arrived.

He's left it on your desk.

- Well, that was thoughtful
of him.

So where is he?

- He had an urgent summons
from desperate Dan.

- Two points.

First I'm coming under a
lot of pressure about Swain.

- Don't tell me.

He's got friends in high places.

- Not him.

His late wife.

Formerly Gail Delgado.

Their lawyers want
the body released,

so it can be taken
back to the States,

for internment in
the family vault.

- They've got their own vault?

Well that merely confirms
my own theory.

Which is?

- That Swain married
her for her money,

then found she wouldn't give
him any, so he kills her.

Two witnesses
say suicide.

- Both of them are liars.

And one of them's run away.

And how close
are you to finding Waterson?

- 24 hours, maximum.

- Sergeant Wield.

What?

- What?

- My man at the hospital.

Telling me where
to find Waterson.

Fancy queer!

- We don't want you,
or your poff mates,

spreading your diseases
round here, alright?

Next time we'll kill ya.

- Of all the mights I have made,

most next after me, I
make thee his master.

And bidder of my might.

I...

Build.

- I build thee here
bainly, in blissful to be.

I name thee, for Lucifer,
as bearer of light.

- All the mirth that is
made is marked in me.

The beams of my brighthood
are burning, so bright.

And I so seemly incite
myself now, I see.

But like a Lord, am I left
to lend in this light?

- I wouldn't bank on it.

- Stick to the book, Andy.

Please.

- Aye.

I'll do it by the book.

- Lets try again.

From the top.

- I did warn her.

- Hey up.

So you lost him again?

- Yeah.

He came out the pub
with two other men.

He got into a car.

I got my number.

- Make a good t-shirt
wouldn't it?

Bunch of tow rags beat
the hell out of me,

and all I got was a
lousy car number.

- Oh, Dr. Livingstone.

- Marwood.

And Mr. Wield shouldn't
be having visitors.

- I'm not visitors.

I'm family.

- It was Dr. Marwood
telephoned me yesterday.

- The informant with
the tip off?

Well let me tell you
something, Doctor.

I don't like telephone tip-offs

that end up with one
of my best Sergeants

getting beaten senseless.

I want facts.

Face to face.

That's what I like best.

Now come on.

You're right, shouldn't
be having visitors.

- I overheard Pamela
on the phone.

- Pamela Waterson?

- Yeah.

Arranging to meet
Greg in the pub.

She said something about
bringing the money.

- Oh it could be a perfectly
innocent arrangement.

Why did you phone
Sergeant Wield?

- Because I think Pamela's
a very vulnerable woman.

And, Greg mixes with some
very dangerous people.

- Do you fancy Mrs. Waterson?

- We're friends and
colleagues, no more, no less.

- No need to be defensive.

We're both grown men
with active loins.

- And the owner of the
winning car is Harold Park,

of 27 A String Lane.

You've got to come down soon

- Was that a monk?

- The wee brownie?

Aye.

We sometimes do a bit of
business with the devout,

you know, candles mostly.

You wouldn't believe
how many candles

these guys go through,
God only knows.

Well I suppose God would
know, what with

him being God and
stuff like that.

I don't know religious
things myself,

which you probably thinks
a bit strange

what with the cross, and the...

Oh the police.

You never had your uniform
on, you know...

I would have recognized
you right away,

had you had your uniform on.

But a police man, you
know, you never say that.

- I was waiting for a
short period of silence.

I'm looking for Harold Park.

- Harold, yeah, Harold
lives at 27 A.

This is 27 without an A.

You'll find his front door
at the back, in the yard.

It's green.

Well I mean it's green now,
I mean it used to be yellow.

Terrible shade of yellow,
but it's green now.

Hey, unfortunately he's
not in, though.

Harold's a commercial
traveler, although

I wouldn't have say
that to his face.

Some of them are a bit touchy,
you know, very sensitive.

- What does he sell?

- Veterinary products mostly.

Wee pills for poodles,
things like that.

He gave me some cardamom
once, did wonders

for my hemorrhoids, if you
ever get hemorrhoids...

I'm not saying that you
have got hemorrhoids,

but if you ever get
hemorrhoids...

- When he gets back,
ask him to phone me.

- Yeah.

Okay.

I showed you everything

Give me a sign

- My client accepts that
his initial statement,

about the death of his
wife, was made voluntarily,

without coercion, and strictly
according to the book.

- Why are you telling
me what I already know?

- Because he'd now like
to modify that statement.

Would you like me to read it?

- No, I don't think so.

Why doesn't Mr. Lucifer...

Beg your pardon, Mr.
Swain give me the gist.

In his own words.

Whatever they happen
to be today.

- The gist.

I was holding the gun,
when it went off.

They were both high on whatever
drugs they'd been taking.

I'm not an expert.

Greg was hysterical, as
you know, so was Gail.

She pointed the gun at me.

I grabbed it.

I pointed it at her,
because I was frightened.

It was a tug of war.

And she squeezed the
finger that was on

the trigger, and
the gun went off.

- There's only one thing
being told here.

And I'm too much of a
gentleman to say what it is.

Technically,
I killed her.

And I suppose, morally,
I have nightmares

about that moment, and I expect
to for the rest of my life.

- While that's dealt
with technically,

and morally, what about legally?

What are you up to Eden?

Putting a good show
at the inquest?

To save money, you'll
get misadventure,

or accidental death, is that it?

- My client believes
that Mr. Waterson

will confirm this
version of events,

when his statement
becomes available.

- When Mr. Waterson
becomes available?

What's your client
done with him?

Bought him off, or
bumped him off?

- The central issue remains
of an early settlement

for this tragic affair.

So that Mrs. Swain's remains can

be released to next of kin,
for a Christian burial.

Off the record, I will add
that the Chief Constable

shares my concern about the way

that this matter has dragged on.

- Yeah.

I know he does.

Right.

Sling your rock, gentlemen.

I've got a murder inquiry
to get on with.

Inspector, I must
be going up in the world.

- Thank you.

- Thank you?

My self-esteem needs
all the help it can get.

- Why's that?

- If a man keeps running around

with other women, what does
that say about the wife?

- If I run around
with other women,

my wife will reach for the
shears, and a divorce lawyer.

Probably in that order.

- But I respect the
sanctity of life.

I'm a good Catholic girl.

Tea?

No thanks.

Why did you meet him in the pub?

- I took him some money.

How much?

- 40 pounds.

And what happened?

- I gave him the money.

He said it wasn't enough.

I need 1,000.

I said it was
more than I could afford.

Where do you think I'm
gonna get 1,000 pounds from?

You know I haven't
got any money,

won't you leave me alone?

Give me your wallet!

He started to
lose his temper, so I left.

- You say he had other women.

Do you know any of their names?

Apart from Mrs. Swain.

- Beverly King.

I'd put her top of the league.

- And why's that?

- She was the first one.

So far the only one
where I walked

in the house and actually
caught them at it.

- Any idea where she lives?

- She lives on one of
the canals, in houseboat.

I think it's called
the Blue Bell.

A Blue Bell gal?

- More like a blonde
floozy, with a drug habit.

But then I suppose
I'm prejudiced.

- May I ask you a more
personal question?

- Go on.

I'll pretend you're a priest.

- Are there any men
in your life?

- Not in the way you mean.

If I ever have a child,
it'll be a miracle.

- I was born, like
the comedians say,

at a very early age.

- Whereabouts?

- In one of those outposts
of the old British empire.

Where the army was
left to clear up

the post-Imperialist shit.

- Your father was a soldier?

- An army padre.

The squadders used to
call him a God botherer.

And now it's my turn
to bother God.

And when was this?

- When was what?

- When were you born?

- Ellie, dearest heart.

This is an in-depth profile
for the local paper,

but my life, my depths...

Some of which are so deep,
you could easily drown.

Next question.

- When did you first become
interested in the theater?

- At boarding school.

Where, and you might like
to underline this bit,

I was otherwise as
miserable as sin.

- Don't mind me.

- Of all the mights I have made,

most next after me,

I make thee its master,
and miller of my might.

I build thee here bainly,

in blissful to be.

I name thee as Lucifer...

I name thee as Lucifer,

and bearer of light.

The inquest verdict was
accidental death, ho-hum.

Mr. Swain, who's known
to his theatrical

friends as Lucifer,
is this very day,

taking what remains of
his wife's remains

to the United States, on
route for the family vault,

which means...

- Case closed.

- He thinks he's won,
and he hasn't.

Now Wieldie has still
got a bit of a bad leg,

from his walloping,
but his brain's intact.

So he's going to...

Well you'll tell him
yourself, hop along.

- Well I'm trawling
through all the paperwork,

and time tables to see
what we might have missed.

Especially the gap in
Mrs. Swain's life.

She was supposed
to go to America,

10 days before she was killed.

Where was she in that period?

What was she doing?

And who with?

- And among all this
mess, people have

been getting away with at least

half of the deadly sins,
and I don't like it.

- I, the Lord, thy God
am a jealous God.

- I, the Lord, thy God, am
no lover of smart asses.

Which includes you
Inspector Pascoe.

Have you sorted out
those anonymous letters?

- My straight answer,
no I haven't.

- My own fault.

Should have burnt the
lot soon as they arrived.

Cast them all into
the fiery furnace.

Right.

Oh, and...

Don't forget.

Philip Swain.

He's for the furnace and all.

- Mr. Park?

- Yes?

Back from
your travels?

- Yeah, I just got
back this morning.

- This is Mr. Pascoe.

Remember I told you
about Mr. Pascoe?

He was gonna phone you.

- Yeah, I was gonna phone you.

- You just got back this
morning, and now you're off
again?

- I'm a traveler.

Gotta keep moving,
that's for the job.

- What's in the boxes?

- Flea powder.

- Flea powder?

- For fleas.

- It isn't flea powder, Harold.

It's heroin.

- Believe it works.

And they die happy.

- Ms. King?

Hello?

- No sign of life.

- Nothing.

- There should be a half
eaten meal at the very least.

- And what?

- Historical reference.

Marie Celeste.

Permission
to send divers down.

The boat's been wrecked,
and the smart

money says Greg Waterson,
and Beverly King

might have ended
up in the water.

And I know we're over budget...

- We're only over budget because

desperate Dan decided to
extend the bloody carpark.

It's not a problem, Peter.

I'll tell 'em you did
it off your own bat.

Without proper consultation.

- Sorry to disturb you
when you're busy, love.

Mr. Dalziel,
isn't it?

- That's right.

Good book?

- Mr. Pascoe says it is.

- That's not a proper answer.

So.

What can we do for you?

- What?

- I'm not like Mr.
Pascoe, you know.

Asking you a few leading
questions,

and give you a reading list,
with a written paper to follow.

No, I'm your friendly bobby.

I'm here to help you.

- And then what?

- Give me all the dirt
on Philip Swain.

- You could find Tony for me.

- Who's Tony when he's at home?

- He's me husband, and he hasn't

been at home for three years.

- Do you...

Do you know where he is?

- Went to London,
looking for work.

- Serves him right.

Do you ever hear from him?

- Sent money till
about a year ago.

And he always sends a
card on Ban's birthday.

- Do you want him back?

- Not particularly.

I just want to know
what's happening,

so I can draw a line
across the page.

End of a chapter like.

- Mr. Stringer.

You digging sandcastles?

- Clearing the site
up, we're gonna

sell the estate,
Krimpter's Knoll.

- Alright.

I used to steal apples
there when I was a lad.

You building there?

- Dozen spec houses,
top of the market.

- Executive homes?

- Something like that.

- What are you doing for money?

- Not my department.

- Mr. Swain's department?

- Aye.

Why not.

- Aren't you sopping
with the devil, Arnie?

- He's always been a good
mate to me, has Philip.

We went at school together.

- Get off.

You used to go to posh school,

with Latin teachers,
and striped blazers?

- Nah, full of that,
village school.

- Your loyalty does you credit.

And what about your son-in-law?

What about Tony?

- What about him?

I promised your
daughter I'd try and find him.

Full force of the law.

Just to set her mind at rest.

- I haven't seen him
since he left.

- God's truth, Arnie?

He's always listening.

- Just after Christmas,
I went down to London.

He'd moved, but he'd left
a forwarding address.

Found him living
with some woman.

Now then.

Not so bloody clever
now, are ya?

Oh shut up.

- You come around here...

Don't know what I
thought about him.

Told him to stay away from
our Shirley, and abandon her.

- Or you wouldn't be
responsible for your actions?

- Aye.

- And?

- That's it, Mr. Dalziel,
there's no more.

- Well if you think of any more,

I'll be in my office.

Or else in the cathedral.

Tell them another hour.

- Where are they?

- That's them.

One more time.

- What are you doing
out of the house?

You found anything?

- One dog, one cat,
and two hamsters.

- Guinea pigs.

- Aye, you're looking
for the wrong

thing in the wrong place.

Try telling him that,

he'll be thrilled to bits.

- That's where you
should be looking.

Special quality, Peruvian
flea powder.

It was sold to Greg Waterson
by Mr. Park,

the commercial traveler.

- In the library, with
the bloody lead piping.

Why was
it in the canal?

- That's why he did his
running from the hospital.

Assume we'd track him
back to Beverly's

houseboat, and find that.

So he dumped it.

- The night I saw
him at the pub,

he was supposed to have 1,000
in cash, for Harold Park.

- Yeah, he offered them 40 quid.

They were not amused.

- This half-assed drug ring.

They turn a penny.

Have you given me help that's

gonna help to nick Phil Swain?

- Not at the moment.

- Well in that case,
I'm off home.

To learn me lines.

- Is it possible you're getting

just a bit obsessed about Swain?

- Course I'm obsessed,
the man's evil.

- We're not entitled to
say that without proof.

- It's a free country,
I can say what I like.

And what I'm saying
is, Philip Swain is

not one of your topney angry
villains Like Harold Park.

No.

Philip Swain comes around
once in a lifetime.

He's evil from choice,
not necessity.

- You still have to prove it.

- No, you lads have to prove it.

My guts, your brains.

That's how the system works.

- Don't I bloody know it.

- Oy.

Where are you going?

- Home, before I say
something I might regret.

- That's your problem Peter.

Always think before you speak.

- And you speak before
you think.

- Ah, Eileen says it's
my tragic flaw.

Oh.

By the way.

Got another one of them letters.

Well it is your case.

- The first one was
earlier in the new year.

My New Year's
resolution

is to kill myself.

And after that
it's every three

weeks on average.

- Changes her mind on
Valentine's day.

And changes it again
a week later.

- But she doesn't want
him to stop her.

She just wants him to
know about her feelings.

It's like a confessional.

Nice Catholic girl?

- Pamela Waterson's a
nice Catholic girl.

I respect the
sanctity of life.

But isn't it
a mortal sin, suicide,

if you're a Catholic?

- Yeah, I think so.

You sure it's a woman?

- Trust me, Peter, a
woman wrote these.

And the most recent says,
"Relax, Mr. Dalziel.

"I haven't yet fixed the date."

She seems to know him somehow.

But not quite.

- Everybody knows Andy,
but not quite.

That's why
he's dumped this on you.

- Why?

These letters are
controlled, and literate.

Deeply emotional.

Andy keeps his deep
emotions to himself.

- He puts his emotions
into his work.

"My guts, your brains, Peter."

- Well I cannot speak
for you, spouse,

but my brain's all knacked.

- You didn't write
these, did you?

- I'd have signed my name.

I'm not ashamed of being me.

- Was that a clue?

This woman's ashamed of being...

Whoever she is?

- Most women are.

But I'm on the case.

Time for bed, said Ellie.

- This better be good, Eden.

Dragging me out here, when
I got better things to do.

- On a Saturday?

- I'm due at rehearsals
in 20 minutes.

And don't even mention
the word lobby,

or I'll kick your teeth in.

- Well let me take
them out, first.

I no longer represent
Philip Swain.

- Ah.

Did the check bounce?

Well that's the only reason
lawyers resign, isn't it?

- Well it was rather
more than that.

You see the check was drawn on

his wife's account,
and signed by

her in the middle of
February, but the bank

refused to honor it,
because in their

opinion the signature
wasn't genuine.

- Your client...

Your ex-client tried
to pay off his

lawyers with a forged check?

- Seemingly.

- You brought the evidence?

And this was for services
rendered in connection with
what?

- Land conveyance.

Planning permission,
Krimpter's Knoll.

- That could cost a fortune
in little brown envelopes.

- You'll be discreet, won't you,

when you see Philip?

- You're like all the
rest, aren't ya?

You're shit scared of the man.

- Our field of dreams, Arnie.

- Don't talk to me about dreams.

- They'll go away,
I promise you.

- They know.

- Sorry, who knows what?

- Dalziel.

- Dalziel knows nothing.

He can prove even less.

- He frightens me.

He thinks he's got
me over a barrel.

- Arnie, trust me.

I know the man who
makes the barrels.

You can always get
justice in this country,

if you can afford to pay for it,

and thanks to Gail's
estate we can afford it.

We can afford anything.

- You've always been a
good mate to me, Phil,

I won't deny that,
but that Dalziel...

- Forget about him!

Forget about yourself.

This is for Shirley,
and your granddaughter.

Generation unto generation,
that's

what your good book
says, isn't it?

- Says a lot of things.

Says too much.

Don't leave you alone.

Now.

I fully expect this to
be a total shambles.

Don't worry.

The first time, in
the proper setting,

without scripts is bound
to be a shambles.

Canon Horncastle has agreed
to read in for Lucifer,

until Mr. Swain gets here.

And if you forget your words,

Ellie's on the book.

Any questions?

- Yeah.

What time's the tea break?

- My wife's seeing to that.

- Refreshments will be available

in the north transept,
tea, sandwiches, biscuits,

homemade cakes.

- Dorothy you are a jewel
of the highest magnitude.

Indeed she is.

- And ever more shall be so.

Excellent.

Now, opening positions please.

From the top.

In your own time.

- First when I wrought
this world, so wide,

wood, and wind, and waters when.

Heaven and hell were
not to hide.

- And then you begin to go up.

- You what?

- You go up.

You'll be on a scissor lift.

And we whack in the dry ice,
so you emerge from the clouds.

- I'm not getting on
any scissor lift,

I mean, I'm strictly a
ground level actor, me.

- I'm going to be 10 times
as high as you are, Andy.

I'll be in the gallery.

- Listen, flower, I may be
a senior police officer,

but I'm bloody terrified
of heights.

Excuse me.

Dalziel.

What?

10 minutes.

- Where are you going?

- Your Lucifer's in
the shit again.

- But you can't go.

- Didn't you know?

God's transcendent.

Ask the Canon, it's
his department.

God's everywhere.

So I'll still be here,
even after I've gone.

Take five...

- Sir, I've spoken to Swain.

He seems in a state of shock.

- He deserves to be.

Right.

You go and give some
official comfort

to the wife, and daughter.

I'll give some to Swain.

Mr. Swain.

A man falls in front of a large

piece of earth moving equipment.

There has to be a rational
explanation.

- He insisted.

Insisted?

On what?

Standing in front?

- No he insisted I should drive.

"Your field of dreams," he
said, "you should do it."

So it was ceremonial?

- Well yes, he believed
in ritual,

and ceremony, God, and the
Queen, and he insisted.

"Go on Phil," he said,
"you do it."

So I did it, and I was
halfway down the slope,

and he just lept out
in front of me.

There was certainly
no time to stop.

- For what it's worth,
the other day,

Arnie told me you'd always
been a good friend to him.

- Well thank you for
telling me that.

- Which, being so, why
should your good friend

wanna kill himself?

- Mr. Dalziel.

I want to confess.

- A little strong for my taste.

Oh, I'm
so sorry dear.

- Excuse me, you can't
leave those boxes there.

- Have you ever said
to your husband,

go screw yourself?

- Go screw yourself?

Do you say it to your husband?

- Frequently.

Going down

Dirty queer!

We don't want you,
or your poff mates

spreading diseases
around here, right.

Next time I'll kill ya.

- Can we sort this out later?

- Sure.

Going down

- Who's doing the interviews
for that lot?

- One of the many who forgot to

send me a Christmas
card last year.

- The ring leader.

What's his name?

Short, goatee beard, earring.

- Medwin.

- I'll see to him.

- Alright.

- I'm deeply sorry,
Mrs. Stringer.

Mrs. Appleyard.

There was nothing we could do.

- He were a good man.

A good husband, a good father.

- He deserved a better life.

- I hope he's gone to
heaven, he deserves heaven.

- Of course he does.

- Just let me know when
you want to go home.

- Now, please.

- In the name of the
Father, the Son,

and the Holy Ghost, amen.

There's never anything we
can do to help, is there?

- Do you want legal
representation,

or do you want to make
it man-to-man?

Without fear of bouncing checks.

- I don't want legal
representation.

- Coffee and donuts.

I always think donuts
are better than sex.

You know that?

Surprising everybody that
don't talk back at you.

Hello, canteen?

Yeah, can I have coffee
and donuts for...

- No thanks.

- One please.

In interview room A.

Ta, love.

Shall we go?

- What's your problem, son?

Don't you like football?

- Course I like football.

I go all over lads.

It's London teams I don't like.

- Can I have a word
with him in private?

Got a track record, haven't you?

- You what?

- You ever hang round
near the canal?

- Bloody hell, was that you?

I didn't know you were a copper.

I thought you were a poff.

- And that'd make it
alright, would it?

- Well it makes it different.

So what are you gonna do?

Round up a few mates
and kick me about?

- No.

I'm gonna round up a few
books, and throw them at you.

- Nice.

Oh.

I forgot to ask.

How did the funeral go?

- It was peaceful.

Dignified.

- Ideally better than
the family vault.

- My wife's ashes are in
an urn, to be precise.

- Oh.

Much more hygienic.

Cremation.

Not too keen on it myself.

Destroys all the evidence.

Right.

Shall we start?

- Middle of February
a bunch of you lads

smashed up a train, and
beat up a steward

in a buffy car.

- Yeah, that was the
Chelsea match.

- You were there?

- Yeah, we didn't go
by train, went by car.

- Who was driving?

- One of my mates, you
got him in a cellar

on the corridor.

- And he's probably a
bigger liar than you are.

Try harder.

- Alright, we gave
some bloke a lift.

He comes from round here,
but he works in London,

in the building trade.

Well we sat next to
each other at the match.

And he wanted to come home,
see his Mrs. and his kid.

- I need a name and address.

- Well Tony his name was.

Took him to Moscow Farm.

I remember 'cause I thought I've

never been to Moscow before.

I never been to a farm neither.

- Interview's suspended.

1547.

- What's happening now?

- Tony Appleyard came
home that weekend?

- Yes.

- Good job, Wieldie.

Where's Peter?

- He's taken his daughter
to the pictures.

- He hasn't got time
for a family life.

- Yes, Tony came home.

But Arnie wouldn't have
him in the house.

They went to the barn.

Had a fight.

Place was full of old
farming machinery, and...

Tony fell back onto a harrow,

and one of the spikes
went through his chest.

Arnie called me up and I...

Helped him to dispose
of the body.

- "Always been a good mate
to me, has Phil Swain."

- It's all true.

- Where are the bodies
buried, Phil?

- Well there's only one.

- Sorry.

Slip of the tongue.

Where's Tony Appleyard buried?

Krimpter's Knoll?

- No.

In your new carpark.

- Hey.

- What's going on?

- This whole thing's
gonna be a catastrophe.

- I love the poster, she's
totally gifted, that girl.

- They have permission to stick

posters all over the
cathedral precinct?

- I have no idea.

- Perhaps you'd be good
enough to check.

- Go screw yourself.

Dear.

- That your Tony?

- Yes.

- Right.

Peter.

Take care of this young lass.

She's had a rough day.

- Come on Shirley.

You sure you're alright?

- Least it's all over.

- But we'll be in
touch very soon.

Now make sure she
gets home alright.

- So we'll send these
lads home now.

- No.

Give me 10 minutes,
then start again.

Over there.

Well.

We found Tony Appleyard,
exactly where you said.

- Well I promise you a
confession, Andy,

and I always tell the truth.

- So according to your
truth telling,

Tony came home that
weekend, and Andy

killed him on the prongs of a
little bit of farm machinery.

- Well it was a spike
harrow, to be precise.

Good.

We like to be precise.

And the two of you bury
the body in the carpark,

after dark, on the Sunday.

- Yes.

- You're a builder.

When you're laying
concrete, for a carpark,

how thick do you lay it?

What, six inches?

- Yes, about six inches.

- But according to what
we just found out there,

you'd need about two
feet to bury the body.

Assuming it's not a fat
bastard, like me.

- Yes, about two feet.

- It's always nice
to be proved right.

Isn't it?

There's a lot more confession
where that came from.

- What the hell's going
on, Inspector?

- We're digging up
the carpark, sir.

- I can see that, but why?

- Well as far as the
press, and public

are concerned there's
a glass leak,

but basically we're
looking for bodies.

- Bingo.

If you'll pardon the
expression sir.

What?

Alright, we're on our way.

This one's a woman, Phil.

Shall we go?

This girl, Swain?

Your wife?

- Yes.

- She wasn't missing
for 10 days, was she?

She was dead.

Take him into my office.

Stay with him.

- Sir.

Sir, shall we carry on digging?

- Certainly we do, we don't
quit when we're winning.

- Sir?

- What?

- The next one we dig
up, if we dig him up,

is it Greg Waterson
you're expecting to find?

- Obviously.

- Well there's no point,
he's over there.

- Bring him in out the cold.

- I rang my wife at the
hospital, I needed money.

The drugs, for food.

- Oh that old thing.

- Well you miss it when
you're sleeping rough.

And she told me about
what had happened

to Arnie Stringer, and
Phil Swain being

back in custody, and said
why didn't I give myself up?

Worth it for the cup of tea.

- Alright.

In reverse order.

How did you kill your wife?

- It was an accident.

We had a row, might have
been about money,

it might have been about Greg.

And yes, I probably hit her.

Technically.

It was more of a push.

She fell against the radiator,
she banged her head, and...

- She ended up dead,
technically.

- The post-mortem will
confirm everything

I'm telling you, Andy.

- And this happened on...

- Saturday, February the 14th.

- The same weekend
that Arnie Stringer

accidentally killed his
son-in-law with a spike harrow.

- Yes.

And you buried the
two bodies on a Sunday?

- Yes.

- And then you put
the story around

that she'd gone back
to the States.

- Well she was planning
to go, she just...

Didn't.

- Understand.

Bit tricky in the circumstances.

And where did you keep the body?

- Sorry?

- It's a practical
question, Phil.

Where did you keep
your wife's body?

After the unfortunate
collision with the radiator?

- In the wine cellar.

- Nice, and cool, I daresay.

- Yes, well that's the
point of a wine cellar.

- And Beverly King?

The woman, formerly
known as Mrs. Swain?

- Well, that was Greg
Waterson's idea.

- That was Phil's idea.

- What a surprise.

- I mean, Beverly was
a pain in the ass.

It's expensive having
any sort of

a relationship with
a heroin addict.

But Phil had worked it all out.

- Won't get caught.

I'm not sure about this.

Set it up to look
like suicide, then

identity the body as his wife's.

- They're going to be seriously

embarrassed in that old
guard of family vaults.

- Why should we believe
it was Phil's idea?

Why not your idea?

- I'm not clever enough
to be that evil.

I'm basically second rate.

- And Phil Swain's better
at being evil than you are?

- He's the main man.

He's the king.

- Swain is remanded in custody.

But consider he used to deny
actually murdering anyone.

- Yeah, but whatever
happens he's

going down for 57 kinds
of conspiracy.

- But I want him to
go down for murder.

Just one.

I'm not fuss which one it is.

Call it personal.

- Vanity of vanities.

- All is vanity.

Gotta come on Peter.

Hello, Joe.

In February you bought a load of

scrap from Philip Swain
at Moscow Farm?

- Yeah over there, in corner.

- Come on.

Is that what they call
a spike harrow?

- Seemingly.

You could brush your hair
with it, it's up to you.

Is it worth
much, all this?

- Hang on to it long
enough, it becomes heritage.

It's a lot of money in
heritage these days.

Was the pitchfork
part of the deal?

- Oh, I was real keen
to get rid of that.

- Joe, I'm gonna make you
an offer you can't refuse.

Mr. Pascoe, I
wouldn't dream of refusing

one of your offers.

- Phillip.

I bring you tidings
of great joy.

- Go on Andy.

Bring me sunshine.

- We found the pitchfork.

- Pitchfork?

- The one you stuck through
Tony Appleyard's chest.

Medical confirms that
is the cause of death.

We've got blood stains.

Fingerprints, I shouldn't
wonder.

DNA confirmation, whatever
the hell that means.

- But why would I want
to kill Tony Appleyard?

- Because he, and
Arnie Stringer,

went into the barn to
settle their differences.

And they found your wife's body.

- But you see my wife
wasn't in the barn.

No, I said so in my statement.

My wife was in the wine cellar.

- You lied in your statement.

And we can prove it.

You'll love this.

We found bat shit
on her clothing.

- Bat shit?

- Bat shit.

Bat shit.

- Pipistrelle droppings,
if you prefer.

- Well.

I suppose we all
leave droppings.

- Aye.

But I've got a bloody
big shovel.

Lucifer.

"Dear, Mr. Dalziel.

"In the words of the
great man, 'April is the

"'cruelest month.'"

- T.S. Elliot.

- "And in the words of the
walrus, 'The time has...

"'Come to put an end to
this silly charade.'"

- I've got a five
o'clock deadline.

- And this woman's threatening
to kill herself today.

- That's a photocopy?

Yeah.

- Then leave it there,
I'll get to it.

I assume our gallant
policeman have

a few ideas of their own?

- Three.

To be precise.

Mrs. Horncastle!

- Oh, Mr. Pascoe.

How are you?

- And more to the point,
how are you?

- Never better, since I took the

advice of an emancipated woman.

- I saw you on the
floor, and I...

- The Devil lost an earring.

Found it.

Getting ready for the
dress rehearsal.

Well.

That's show business.

She seems to
know him somehow.

But not quite.

We just wanted
to check you were alright,

been a bad time.

It's good here.

I miss me dad.

But life goes on, don't it?

Don't know what I'd have
done without her.

Nice, Catholic girl.

Pamela Waterson's
a nice Catholic girl.

Sorry to disturb you,
Mrs. Waterson.

We...

Just wanted to be sure
you were alright.

- Thank you, Mr. Pascoe.

Yes, I think I'm
probably alright.

These letters are
controlled, and literate.

But deeply emotional.

We open in April,
and like the man says,

"April is the cruelest month."

And like the walrus
says, "The time has come

"to put an end to this
silly charade."

- No.

So line up your
beautiful, most thematic event.

And I'm looking for God.

Bear witness to the
most dramatic event

seen in this city, for
nigh on 400 years.

Group A angels,
on stage left.

Stage left, please.

And go on surry lanes,
but now on stage left.

That means all of you.

- Don't say a word,
Peter, not a single word.

- Where's Eileen?

- She's up there in the guards.

When I say let there
be light, she does it.

- Hi, Pete.

- Hi.

- It's taken you a long
time to work it out.

- We've been a bit preoccupied.

People dying, stuff like that.

- That's all there is.

Nonsense.

- "Comedy is tragedy
in long shot."

Chaplain said that.

- Well isn't that
why we carry on?

People like Chaplin,
Shakespeare, and Elliot?

And God, if you like.

- What can they offer?

Resignation.

And all the mysteries
can offer is mystery.

- What about love?

Ellie and I, we love you.

We need you.

- Love?

Need?

Nice try, Pete.

Don't worry.

No need to be heroic.

You don't have to
prove anything.

Ellie's the proof of
your goodness, and mercy.

Relax.

Stay cool.

I've got to get my show
on to the Damascus Road.

Cue the music.

Cue the clouds.

Cue God.

No!

First when I
wrought this world so wide.

Wood, and wind, and waters...

It's Eileen!