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Ooh!

Aaah!

I´m home.

Judith, what´s the matter?

S02xE01 "Hard Cheese"
Jan 15, 1995

- Synced & Corrected by Dragoniod -
www.MY-SUBS.com

Right, Steve, that´s the lot.

Where is he?

In there.

Morning, folks... got your lettuce

and your Maris Pipers
out the back, Crabbe.

Bunged in some nice
purple sprouting broc as well.

Thanks, Henderson.

Any danger of some coffee?

Sure, ask Steve.

Cheers.

Morning, Nicola.

You´re looking very lovely this morning.

Morning, Henderson. You´re not.

Okay, now, if we compare this quarter

with the last, we´re averaging
four more covers a day

on dinners, but...

Oh, for God´s sake, Henry,
this is important.

We´re down two lunches,

so you´re going to have to
charge more for the set lunch.

Yeah, look, is this going to go on

much longer, Margaret?

I´m expecting Hugh Downing any minute.

Oh, is Hugh coming today?

That´s good. I missed him last week.

Ooh, is he the one
that sells the cheese?

Yes.

What is it about our
friendly local cheese merchant

that inspires all this interest, John?

Well, somehow, I don´t think it´s

his Double Gloucester.

Hugh Downing is an extremely nice man.

Yeah, and he´s seriously gorgeous.

So you and Linda have split up, right?

Look, she wanted to go back to Dublin,

I wanted to stay here, so that´s
what we´ve done, all right?

So you have split up, then?

Yeah, all right, we´ve split up!
Now leave it out, will you?

Have you got her phone number?

What do you want her phone number for?

Well, they have this Potato
Growers Convention in Dublin.

I thought I might go this year.
I could look her up.

Well, I wouldn´t,
if I were you, Henderson.

I think she thought
you were a bit of a prat.

Yeah, Steve, leave it out.
What did she really think?

Morning, everyone.

Hello, Hugh, come in.

Hello.

Hello, Margaret. What a nice surprise.

Oh, Hugh.

Mwah.

- Long time, no see.
- Hello, I´m Nicola.

We didn´t really get
a chance to meet last time.

Um, hello, Nicola.

Nicola joined us a couple of weeks ago.

You can put him down, now, Nicola.

We´ve got some serious
cheese business to transact.

Would you like some coffee?

I´d better not. I´m running a bit late.

Henry, want to see
what I´ve got in the lorry?

Oh, yes, please.

Oh, God, bloody thing. Sorry.

Hello. Oh, hello, darling.

I´m at Pie in the Sky.

Well, yes, they´re both here.

Of course, I´ll ask them.
Good idea. All right.

Yes, you too. Bye, darling.

That was Sarah, she was wondering

if you´d be our guests for lunch

at the hotel on Saturday.

The thing is,

it´s a bit of a celebration

because we´ve decided
to get married, actually.

Oh, now, that´s wonderful news.

Yes, congratulations.

Well, Laxton House Hotel´s
my best customer,

so it makes sense to marry
the manager, doesn´t it?

Well, they´ll have to announce

a national day of mourning...

the county´s most eligible
bachelor is spoken for.

Come off it, Margaret.

Now, that´s enough of this frivolity.

Come on, let´s go and look
at some cheeses.

Yeah.

I´ll have a truckle
of the Wensleydale, please.

Yeah.

And you´d better give me some parmesan.

The reggiano?

The good stuff, yeah,
but don´t tell Margaret.

My, that Stilton looks marvelous.

Look at it. Good veining,
no discoloration.

I´ll have to watch out.
You´re getting good at this.

Who, me? No, no, it´s only
what I pick up from you.

Oh, I´ve got some lovely cheese
from Philippe Olivier in Paris.

This Reblochon will be perfect tomorrow.

Don´t be mad.

I could do a three-course
meal for what that costs.

It´s a present. Go on, take it.

Special occasion and all that.

Hugh, I couldn´t.

And, as you may be aware,

we are on the brink of
a revolution in communications,

most particularly,
digital communications

using fiber optics.

You may have heard people

using the phrase "information highway."

Yes, sir.

Well, the Home Office
are setting up a project

to ensure we, in the police,

are slap-bang in the middle
of that highway.

In the event of promotion,

how would working on a project
like that appeal to you?

I´ve always been very interested
in information technology, sir,

and, of course, I´m eager
to work in any capacity,

but I was really hoping
to stay in CID, sir.

Surely, being at the cutting edge

of this new technology...

You´ve got to let us
keep some bright sparks

in Operations, Clive, hasn´t he, Mike?

The Home Office
haven´t approved the budget

for that project yet, anyway.

Play any sport, Constable?

Yes, sir.

We´ve a very good women´s synchronized

swimming team here, you know.

So I´ve heard, sir.

Ever thought of having a go?

I´m not interested in any sport

where the score is determined
by a panel of judges, sir.

I don´t think we need
detain you longer, Constable.

Sir.

Promising officer, that.

Much too promising to end up

in front of one of your computers.

Well, we´ll have to
wait and see, won´t we?

As you may know, Mike Meredith and I

are conducting a personnel
review for the Chief Constable.

Really?

Hmm, fascinating, what one turns up

in all the nooks and crannies.

Detective Inspector
Henry Crabbe, for example.

Name ring a bell?

Hmm, Possibly.

Ha ha, come off it, Freddy.

Crabbe was suspended over a year ago,

pending an inquiry into
the Hooperman business.

The inquiry was called off
and Crabbe was put back on duty,

only, in what capacity,
nobody quite seems to know.

Look, Clive...

But the word is,

he´s on call to do
your dirty work, Freddy.

And when he´s not doing that,
he´s hanging around

some greasy-spoon caf which
allegedly belongs to his wife.

Crabbe is an exceptional officer
and I don´t have to justify

my use of him to you, Clive...
I am ACC Operations.

All right, then, you´re ACC Operations.

How about an operation on this prowler?

Prowler?

The one that scared

the living daylights
out of my wife, Freddy.

She´s on the verge of a nervous
breakdown, and all I get

is some dimwitted DC
sitting in my kitchen,

drinking coffee all day.

I see.

Hmm, how about putting
your man Crabbe on to it?

Give us a chance to see
how exceptional he really is.

I´d hate it if Mike and I had to
go back to the Chief Constable

and tell him you were overmanned.

See you later, Freddy. David.

- Mike.
- Yeah?

Let´s get together. Um, lunch, sometime?

Sure.

I´m back!

Aah!

Uh-oh, look who´s here.

Don´t attract his attention,

because he´ll only
come over here and chat.

Hm! There you are, darling.

Sorry about that.

There´s a leaky cistern
in the Lancaster Suite,

so I had to juggle the bookings.

We ordered for you.

Good. Did Henry frown at the menu a lot?

Not as much as usual.

I didn´t frown at all.

Oh, William,

make sure the Carters
get a window table, won´t you?

For God´s sake, darling, relax.

Here, have a glass of wine.

Sorry,

just one of those days.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

- Here´s to you. Cheers.
- Congratulations.

Well, it´s not definite yet.
I may change my mind.

What?

Joke, Hugh.

Oh, right.

What are you having, Henry?

Scallops, and then the lamb.

Mm, good choice.
What about you, Margaret?

Oh, God, I´ve forgotten.

No, no, come on, you remember.

They´re deep-frying
a Mars bar, specially.

Uh-huh.

The thing is, Mike,

suddenly, I´m having to justify
every secretary in Operations,

every driver, every cleaner, to Ingleby.

Onion tartlet. That sounds nice.

You´re the Force Admin Officer, Mike.

You´ve got more say
about personnel than he has.

Don´t forget... I´m a civilian, Freddy.

Say what you like
about equality of rank,

the new Chief Constable
isn´t mad keen about civilians.

And now, Ingleby´s after DS Cambridge,

an officer I´ve nurtured from day one,

a very capable officer
I don´t want to lose.

Yes, capable and black.

What´s that supposed to mean?

Well, it looks good at press
conferences, doesn´t it?

Nothing wrong with a bit of
positive discrimination,

is there?

For God´s sake,

Ingleby´s got a West Indian PC,
two Asian detectives,

and a woman Chief Superintendent.

And now, he wants Cambridge.
It´s not fair, Mike.

She´s my black woman detective.

Did you enjoy the lamb, sir?

It was very interesting, thank you.

Oh, I´ve got something to celebrate.

A new client...
Barton´s, the wine merchants.

Mm, they´re supposed to
be good, aren´t they?

Could be handy for you, Henry.

Perhaps they could pay us in burgundy.

I deal in hard cash.
Nothing less will do.

There´s a lot to be said

for the barter system, you know.

Of course, it would put a lot
of accountants out of work.

I mean, how can you calculate the VAT

on a goat or two bushels of wheat?

- They´d find a way.
- You better believe it.

Excuse me, will you?

Just going to pop into the kitchen.

Going to fuss over the cheeses,

make sure they´re not being
refrigerated to death.

Hey, Hughie! How´s it going?

Fine, thanks.

Just going to have a look at the cheese.

Help yourself.

- Theresa, please. It´s too risky.
- Oh, who cares?

- Someone might come in.
- So what?

Come on, then.

You´re such a naughty boy, you are.

You just don´t want to admit it, do you?

Oi!

You, brain-dead!

Two sorbets and a Tarte Tatin, there.

As a matter of fact,
I want a word with you, Crabbe.

- Oh, yes, sir?
- About this prowler.

Prowler?

Peeping Tom, Crabbe.

Making himself busy
in this part of the world,

prowling, peeping, stealing...
"items of female clothing."

Yes, um, what´s the bad thing he´s done?

Made the mistake
of peeping at the wife of

Assistant Chief Constable Clive Ingleby.

Aha.

Listen, Crabbe, Ingleby´s doing

a personnel review
for the Chief Constable.

He´s been poking around, and one
of the stones he´s lifted

has got you underneath it.

Oh, I see.

Nothing he´d like better
than to get at me through you.

So make yourself bloody useful to him,

or, before we know where we are,

he´ll be digging up the dirt
on you and Dudley Hooperman

and running
to the Chief Constable with it,

in which case,

I may not be able to help you.
Office politics, Crabbe.

You know the sort of thing.
Can´t stand it, myself.

No, sir, I know... I know you can´t.

What are the sweets like in here?

I´ve no idea. You might try
the cheeseboard, though.

The Stilton should be good.

Stilton and a glass
of port... good idea.

Why not live dangerously?

Have a glass of sweet white.
Say, Sauternes.

Sauternes?

Why did you tell him that?

He´ll probably go
and enjoy it, now. Idiot.

He´s got such good manners, Hugh.

He´s quite old-fashioned, really.

Hm, that´s not all that´s
old-fashioned about him.

What do you mean?

I mean sex, Margaret.

Well, you know what they say...

Try not to rush them.
You´ve got to be patient.

Rush Hugh? Chance would be a fine thing.

No, the trouble is,
he´s insisted we wait

until we´re married.

Do you mean you actually haven´t...

No.

I´m so wonderful, you see,
he loves me so much,

everything´s got to be done
absolutely by the book.

Our wedding´s going to be
this amazing, romantic thing,

so we´ve got to wait,
otherwise we might spoil it.

Do you mean you haven´t done anything?

Well, we´ve done kissing, obviously.

And it was fine, but,
I don´t know, Margaret,

I´m beginning to think it´s a bit weird.

Well, he does want to marry you, Sarah.

That does indicate
some sort of interest.

Maybe you should try
to be more assertive.

Some men like that sort of thing.

God, you´ve got to be so careful
with them, haven´t you?

I mean, what do men really want?

The cheeseboard´s very good, here.

Let´s have some Stilton.

And... oh, I know, we´ll have

a glass of Sauternes with it.

Farmhouse Stilton

and a couple of glasses of Sauternes.

A very good choice, sir.

I´m impressed, Freddy.
This is a whole new side to you.

Bye, darling. Lovely lunch.

Oh, why do you have to rush off?

Come up to the flat for a drink.

Stay for supper. Stay the night.
I promise I´ll behave myself.

I told you, darling, I´ve got
a mountain of paperwork to do

and a delivery
first thing in the morning, hm?

- I´ll ring you later.
- Okay.

Bye.

Bye.

I don´t know why you had to go

and upset Sarah´s chef like that.

I didn´t upset her chef, all I
did was ask a perfectly innocent

question about the navarin
of lamb, that´s all.

You never ask innocent questions,

being a policeman all these years.

You make "How are you?"
sound like an interrogation.

Is this the chef at Laxton House?

Poor old Sarah.
She´s got enough to worry about.

The same.
What´s Sarah got to worry about?

You wouldn´t understand.

Yeah, I´ve seen him posing
down at the Purple Ploughman.

The "Purple Ploughman"?

Yeah, it´s a nightclub
down in Brayfield.

It´s the only place round here
that´s open late,

so you get a lot of waiters
and a lot of chefs.

Favorite haunt of yours, is it?

Certainly not. All that noise and smoke?

Anyway, I´ve got Tolstoy to
finish by the end of the year.

A late-night drinking den for chefs.

I think I ought to check that out.

Excuse me.

Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Margaret, how are you?

Who is this?

I hear you´re going to be
working for Barton´s.

It´s great news.

Bill, is that you?

Because I pass through Sommersby myself.

Maybe we´ll bump into each other.

Okay, okay,
come on, come on, joke´s over.

Who is this?

Better still, I could pop round
to the restaurant

while Henry´s out, playing detectives,

because I think I could really
do something for you, Margaret.

Quite a few things, actually.
Are you alone?

If you are, I´ll tell you
exactly what I had in mind.

No, you won´t, you pervert,

and if you ring me again,

I will do something for you, believe me!

Not somebody wanting
to book a table, I presume.

Morning, sir.

Ah, well, well, well,

Sergeant Cambridge, congratulations.

- Thank you.
- Coffee, croissant?

No, thank you.

So where next in your
inexorable rise to the top, eh,

Traffic, Personnel?

Oh, no, no, wait... I know.
Wait a minute.

Information Technology.

I´m very happy in CID, sir.

Oh, come on, Cambridge,

nicking thieves is no way
to get ahead in this job.

Well, you´re quite right,

but it´s what we´re
stuck with for today.

Oh, is that a reference
to the Peeping Tom

and the Assistant Chief
Constable´s wife?

Hmm, Mrs. Ingleby´s
expecting us at 11:00.

Hmm, well, I suppose

you´ll have to go back to work
as well, then.

Is she all right?

Is she all right?

All she has to do, all day long,
is eat, sleep,

lay the occasional egg,
and listen to Mozart.

Of course she´s all right.

I should warn you about Ingleby.

That´s all right, Cambridge.

Mr. Fisher already has.

Don´t worry,

I´m not going to jeopardize
your brilliant career.

Actually, sir, I was thinking of yours.

I went for dinner with friends
at La Vie en Rose in Brayfield.

They do a plateau de fruits
de mer which is

just about acceptable for this
part of the world, I suppose.

Clive was unable to join us.

He had to attend a last-minute
meeting with Philip Norris.

Um, Philip Morris,

does he have a bearing on this case?

Philip Norris, sir,
he´s the new Chief Constable.

Oh, is he? Oh, well.

That´s his alibi, sorted out, ha.

I´m sorry.
Please, carry on, Mrs. Ingleby.

Well, I let myself in,
turned off the alarm,

then went straight upstairs
to the bedroom.

I started to get undressed,
when I noticed a draft

was coming from one of the windows.

When I went to close it, I saw
him, staring right in at me.

He had a mask on, of some sort.

All I could see were his eyes.

I screamed and he
disappeared from sight.

I arrived a moment or two later.

Judith was in a state of shock.

I ran downstairs into
the garden, but he´d gone.

Um, now, let me see,

the bedroom´s on the first floor, is it?

Yes.

So he got up using, what, um, a ladder?

Yes, my ladder.

I´d been clearing a gutter
earlier that day.

Well, in future, sir,

I think it might be advisable
if you put the ladder away.

You´ve no need to lecture me

on domestic security, Inspector.

No, no, no, of course not, sir.
No, no, no.

No, sir, I won´t even mention the window

that was left open
when you both went out.

Crabbe.

As soon as I saw him,

I knew he was the one on the phone.

"The one on the phone"?

Mrs. Ingleby had an obscene
phone call, sir.

Phone calls. Five, so far.

Obscene, you say?

The usual sort of thing, Inspector.

The unusual thing was how much
he knew about me and the family.

The first time he called,
he talked about my sister.

Her husband has business problems.

He knew all about it.

What was his voice like?

Well-spoken, but fuzzy.

Using some sort of
distorting device, presumably.

As soon as I pulled back the curtains

and found myself looking right
into that man´s eyes, I knew.

I don´t know why... I knew
he was the one on the phone.

Margaret got a call last night.

I see.

Well-spoken, male, distorted voice.

He seemed to know everything about us.

And you´re thinking
it could be the same man.

Well, he´s got to be
the favorite, hasn´t he?

You´re having
your incoming calls traced?

Yes, for what it´s worth.
But he´s not stupid, you know.

He used pay phones for all
those calls to Mrs. Ingleby.

No, no, the question is,

is he going to start prowling
around Pie in the Sky?

If he hasn´t already.

Hm. Where to next?

Claire Bicknall... she´s the manager

of the Purple Ploughman, it´s a...

I know all about the Purple Ploughman.

You do?

I do.

What happened
the night you saw the prowler?

Well, I was working
here ´til about 12:00.

I got back, everyone was asleep,
needless to say,

so I went out to get the washing
and there he was,

standing there on my patio,
with his hands full of knickers.

Could you describe him?

No, he had something covering his face.

He was, what? Two or three
inches taller than me.

Average build. Youngish, I´d say.

He must have been in pretty good
nick, the way he took off.

Tell you the truth, I think
he was just as scared as me.

Tell me about the phone calls.

Well, he knew where I work,

what my husband does... the lot.

I mean, it´s no secret
we´ve had our ups and downs,

but the stuff he came out with...

You mean, obscene?

Oh, yeah, but that didn´t upset me.

You hear everything,
working in a place like this.

No, it was the stuff about me and Colin

and, you know... our relations.

Oh. Well, well.

Hugh!

Hello, Henry.

Hello.

So you´re supplying
the Purple Ploughman, eh?

My secret´s out, now, is it?

Eight kilos of grated cheddar

for the Purple Ploughman´s lunch.

Oh, lovely.

Four kilos of shredded mozzarella

for the Purple Ploughman´s pizza.

Shredded mozzarella?

Yeah, it pays the bills, Henry.

Ahem.

Ah, sorry. Hugh Downing,

Detective Sergeant Cambridge.

Pleased to meet you.

Pleased to meet you.

Oh, Is this your route?

Yep, quite busy today.

Hm, well, talk of the devil.

La Vie en Rose.

Well, I´m told that their
plateau de fruits de mer...

"Is just about acceptable".

Gosh, I doubt that.

You know, I really ought to come
out on your round with you,

one of these days, so I can get
the lowdown on my rivals.

Always welcome, Henry.
I´d appreciate the company.

I´d better get on.

I´ll see you the day after tomorrow.

Right, fine.

Well, it´s been

really nice, meeting you. Bye.

Come along, Cambridge.

Well, I´m not sure I agree
with all this religious music.

I think the last thing
we need round here is

a born-again chicken.

Got it.

Aah!

It was in the outhouse.

Now, stop that and sit down.

I want you to try some of this.

It´s the first time I´ve done it.

Leek, ham, and egg pie.

Such good springing.

I hope you´re not going round,

bashing people over the head
with that thing.

Look, I´m not going to be
intimidated if that pervert

- comes round here...
- If he comes lurking around,

he´s going to have this to contend with.

I might even lay a trap.

Trap? What do you mean, trap?

Oh, I don´t know,

hang a load of knickers in the garden.

Margaret, don´t even think about it.

Joking, Henry.

Damn, I meant to phone Sarah.
It´s too late, now.

Do you know, I saw Hugh today.

He was delivering synthetic
cheese to the Purple Ploughman.

Can you believe it?

It´s a bit like catching
Rembrandt painting a road sign.

I can´t make that boy out.

I thought you liked him.

Oh, I do, I do.
It´s just, oh, I don´t know.

Sarah told me something, Henry.

Now, this is
in the strictest confidence.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Apparently, Hugh has insisted
on complete celibacy

until after the wedding.

"Complete"? You mean, uh...?

No hanky-panky.

He says it´s because

he´s an old-fashioned romantic,
you know,

back to basics, all that garbage.

And she says that´s all
very sweet, blah blah blah,

but, frankly, it´s a bit odd.

God, I was hungry!

Mmm. Why are you looking
at me like that?

Margaret, what was in that pie?

Steak and kidney.

Well, it was some sort of meat.

Wasn´t it?

Ohh!

Blackberry and apple.

Unbelievable.

Well, I was hungry!

You see, if I´d known it was going to be

an interrogation, I´d have taken notes.

Honestly!

Pay phones are blue.

Red is for the places where
our friend has been spotted.

When in doubt, Cambridge,
stick a pin in a map.

People find it very reassuring.

Very impressive. Where are the yellow?

Yellow are restaurants.

All the women who´ve been
pestered by this man have been

connected with restaurants,
one way and another.

See, here, you´ve got Margaret,
Pie in the Sky, of course.

Then Claire Bicknall, manager
of the Purple Ploughman.

Here, there´s Judy Smith,
waitress at the Maid´s Head.

Tracey Miller,

girlfriend of the chef
at the Buggles Wine Bar.

And, last but not least,
Mrs. Judith Ingleby,

who, with her husband,
is a regular at La Vie en Rose,

where...

The plateau de fruits de mer...

"Is just about acceptable".

And she´s a personal friend
of the owner.

Why is there a yellow
pin in the Laxton House Hotel?

Well, yellow also stands
for those places

that get their cheese from Hugh Downing.

Your friend the cheese man?

Mm-hmm, it dawned on me
when I saw the route

he had pinned on the door of his lorry.

All the pay phones

and the places where
our friend has been spotted

are either on it or near it.

I see, so he would have

seen these women while
making his deliveries.

And the personal stuff, well,

that could be gossip
he picks up on his rounds, yes?

Mm-hmm.

His fiancée is

the manager of the Laxton House Hotel,

and, as you can see, the main entrance

is just opposite
our friend´s favorite pay phone.

His fiancée? Well, that´s
the end of that theory, then.

Why?

What´s the one thing
your voyeurs, flashers,

and heavy breathers all have in common?

Apart from the fact that
they´re all men.

You´ve been reading books, Cambridge.

They´re often unable to conduct
a normal sexual relationship.

Downing´s getting engaged, therefore...

Hmm.

His fiancée told Margaret
that, thus far,

their relationship
is strangely platonic.

Every time the question of sex arises,

he apparently runs a mile.

Aha.

I do not like this theory, Cambridge.

I do not like the idea
that Hugh Downing is a voyeur.

Well, we´ll just have to find out

for ourselves, won´t we, sir?

Hmm.

Morning!

Morning, sir.

Morning, sir.

Excellent!

Hey!

Two steak-and-kidney pies,
boiled and beans, please.

Right.

We´re running low
on onion gravy, you know, Chef.

No, we´re not; there´s
plenty more in the big fridge.

Can I have a break for me nosebag?

Henderson, shut up
and get on with it, will you?

Hello, Nicola.

Steve, where are
my steak-and-kidney pies?

All right, they´re on the way.

Table 5 are getting a wee bit twitchy

about their bread-and-butter pudding.

What, already? Don´t these people chew?

Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Table 5 say
they´ll cook their own desserts.

Margaret, Roger Painter
from the garage for you.

Hello, Roger.

If it´s about that VAT return,
it´ll be ready tomorrow.

It´s not Roger, Margaret.

Oh, it´s you, is it?

Sneaky of me, I know,

but I wanted to make sure
you spoke to me.

Well, what makes you think
I wouldn´t speak to you?

You weren´t very nice before.

I wasn´t? Oh, I´m sorry.

I know the restaurant´s full tonight,

so I won´t keep you.

I just wanted to know if you´re wearing

that black dress, the low-cut one.

Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.

What else?

Oh, nothing.

I think, on these sticky nights,
it´s much more comfortable

to wear as little as possible,
don´t you?

Of course, I am wearing
these rather wonderful

satin cami-knickers.

They´re black, with very small,
very pink flowers on.

They´ll be hanging
in my garden tomorrow.

You can probably come and look at them,

can´t you, you dirty little...?

Poor bloke, couldn´t take it.

- Yay!
- Whoa-oa!

Well, you told me to keep him talking.

Margaret, sometimes
you are beyond belief.

Good.

The call was from a pay phone
in Sommersby,

one he hasn´t used before.

I had Pinkney and Smith watching
the Laxton callbox all day.

And?

And Hugh Downing came out of
the Laxton House Hotel

at 10:30 a.m. in his lorry.

He didn´t use the pay phone,
but the odd thing is,

instead of turning right,

for Brayfield and the Purple Ploughman,

he turned left and then
went up this farm track.

Then what?

Pinkney and Smith had to go
on a door-to-door in Barstock.

It probably doesn´t mean anything.

Hmm. Well, maybe I´ll find out tomorrow.

And this is a hard cheese
made from ewe´s milk.

Like the Italian cheese, pecorino.

Right, but made in Norfolk.

It´s great in soufflés,
this stuff, you know.

And this is a soft goat´s
cheese from the Mendips.

Goat´s cheese? No, not for me, thanks.

Oh, come along, Nicola.

You´ve got to know what
you´re serving to people.

All right, Hugh, if you insist.

No.

Oh.

Mmm, yeah, it´s quite nice, actually.

You see? Anyway,
the most important thing is,

never, never serve cheese
straight from the fridge.

I hope you´re not suggesting

that´s what happens
in this establishment.

- Hello, Henry. How are you?
- I´m fine, Hugh, thanks.

Could I come
on your round with you today?

What, now? Today?

Great, of course.
First stop, Marco´s Pizzeria.

- Fine.
- See you.

Bye.

Right, one block of mild cheddar.

One block of mild cheddar.

And three bags of shredded mozzarella.

And one,

two, three bags of shredded mozzarella.

- Yep.
- Enjoy.

Thank you.

Laxton House Hotel next.

Then on to Brayfield for La Vie en Rose

and the dreaded Purple Ploughman.

Still glad you came?

How´s Margaret?

Fine, fine.

I hear she´s been getting phone
calls from this weird bloke.

Well...

Terrible, isn´t it? It used to
be so quiet around here.

Hello, darling.

Hello, darling.

You´re looking a bit stressed today.

Doesn´t he look stressed, Henry?

Hmm.

Still, at least
you´ve got company today.

That´s nice, isn´t it? Be good.

Do you always turn right here?

Yep. Next stop, Brayfield.

You never turn left?

Well, why would I, Henry?

I don´t deliver to anyone that way.

You turned left here yesterday.

Henry, what´s going on, here?

Well, you take me
to where you went yesterday,

and I´ll tell you.

I don´t believe it.

I don´t want to believe it, Hugh.

Creeping around, peering into...

Look, let´s...

There´s an easy way to deal with this.

Look at these dates...
now, there must have been

one of those evenings
when you were doing something...

visiting Sarah, for example...

that someone can verify.

No, it´s no good. No alibis, I´m afraid.

Oh, come on, Hugh.

It´s no good, Henry.
I´m sorry, I can´t help you.

All right, then, what are we doing here?

Hello, gorgeous.

Morning.

Look, Henry, the thing
with Theresa, it´s over.

Well, almost over.
I was finishing it, really.

There you go. Hang on.

- Hello, stranger.
- Hello, Claire.

Don´t I get a kiss, then?

Look, sorry, Claire.

I can´t talk now, okay?

I´ll try and call you later.

I love it when you´re serious.

No, please, Claire.

Oh, dear.

Morning.

And what lies in store for us

at La Vie en Rose, I wonder?

Well, actually, there´s this rather...

There´s this chef called Lesley.

Thursday the 23rd.

Well, on Thursday evenings,
I go round to Bridget´s.

Bridget´s?

She works at the Deli in Barstock.

I sell them a lot of French cheese.

Bridget´s very interested in...

French cheese?

Yes, actually, she is.

Monday the 4th.

Well, Mondays are pretty hectic.

Most restaurants are closed, you see.

Aha.

So I see Claire in the afternoon

and then, well, it´s dinner with Sarah.

And then I look in on Lesley.

Sunday the 10th.

Yes, well, Sunday afternoons
are Claire again,

and then in the evening

there´s a waitress at the Maid´s Head.

This is awful, Henry.
What must you think?

Well, what I´m thinking is,
at least you´re not

prowling around, stealing
underclothes off washing lines.

For one thing, you haven´t
got time, really, have you?

But I love Sarah.

She´s absolutely the only one
I really want,

but it´s so difficult to...

I can´t seem to...

Whereas, with the others,
I don´t know, it´s easier.

It doesn´t seem to matter,
it´s just a sort of game.

I´ll have to come clean
with Sarah, won´t I?

Yes, of course I will.

Well, that´s the end of that, then.

I´m sorry about all this, Henry.

Don´t apologize to me, Hugh.

My only concern is
whether you´ve broken the law.

I have absolutely
no jurisdiction whatsoever

over your private life.

Thank God.

A witness coming out of the pub

saw the lads spraying the lorry.

Turns out they worked
at Marco´s Pizzeria,

where they´d heard a rumor
about Hugh Downing

from a mate of theirs who worked
at a bistro at La Vie en Rose...

All right, Crabbe,

no need to run through
the entire Good Food Guide.

Who had heard it from
the owner´s wife, who admitted,

under close questioning from
Detective Sergeant Cambridge,

that she had heard it
from a close personal friend

of hers, namely...

Get on with it, Crabbe.

Mrs. Judith Ingleby.

I can only assume Assistant
Chief Constable Ingleby

told his wife we were
interviewing Hugh Downing, sir.

I see. Well.

Yes, and, in view
of the source of the leak,

I told Mr. Downing
he had probable grounds

for launching an official complaint.

Yes, indeed. Better leave this with me.

So all the time we were together,

you were sneaking off and seeing her.

Well, not exactly.

Well, it certainly looks that way.

Well, it wasn´t quite that way.

- This is so embarrassing.
- We need to talk.

What, is she going to
turn up and join us?

Look, you liked it here
before, didn´t you?

Yes. It´s always good, isn´t it?

You´d be happy with just
a takeaway, wouldn´t you?

I know, I know.
For heaven´s sake, lighten up.

What was all that about?

Well, he left her, for another woman.

Yeah...

Then she met the other woman

and they got on so well together
that she´s moving in with her.

Good God.

Oh, yeah, people talk about anything

in front of waiters, you know.

We´re nonpeople, until they want
another drink, that is.

I thought there must be some connection

between all those restaurants,

apart from Hugh
and his cheese deliveries.

And then it occurred to me...
waiters and waitresses.

I mean, you remember

all those personal details
the caller knew about?

Well, waiters and waitresses
hear the lot

and nobody gives it a second thought.

Well, the day you
and Margaret had lunch here...

Thank you.

Mark Weston was waiting on table.

That´s right, and he was there

when Margaret talked
about her new client.

Now, until that moment,

she hadn´t mentioned it
to anyone, not even to me.

So, Mark Weston. Can I talk to him?

I´m afraid not. He was temporary.

When we´re short-handed,

I get emergency staff from Scullions.

"Scullions"?

It´s a catering-staff
agency in Barstock.

I was about to call them, actually.

We´ve just lost a waitress
at short notice.

Are you all right?

Yes, I´m fine.

Have you... heard from Hugh?

Not since...

He´s thinking of moving
to the West Country.

Wants to make cheese, not just sell it.

Poor Hugh.

"Poor Hugh"?

He was a sitting duck, wasn´t he?

Just couldn´t say no.

Except when he should´ve said yes.

Mark Weston.

He´s been on the agency´s books
for about a year.

Good night, Mr. Crabbe.

- Good night, Nicola.
- See you.

Good night, Steve. Safe home.

He´s experienced, he´s efficient,

he´s been offered permanent jobs,

but he prefers to move around...

not many friends, it seems.

Oh, don´t tell me...
he´s a bit of a loner.

Exactly. You want to know
where he´s worked recently?

Laxton House Hotel,

the Maid´s Head, La Vie en Rose,
Buggles Wine Bar,

and Marco´s Pizzeria.

My, what a breathtaking CV.

I had to go to all of them

to find out where he lives.

He changes addresses
as often as he changes jobs.

Where´s he living now?

Here, in Middleton, a B&B in East Road.

Yes?

Detective Sergeant
Cambridge, Barstock CID.

We´re looking for Mark Weston.

He´s out.

We´d like to look at his room,
if that´s all right.

Margaret.

Hi, John. Good night?

Not bad. I´ve bagged up
your swag for you.

How about you?

Well, okay, if you´re
keen on the Retail Price Index.

Oh, yes.

Where´s Henry?

He´s gone off sleuthing with Cambridge.

The people of Middleton will sleep safe

in their beds tonight, then.

Indeed. You´ll lock up, will you?

Mm-hmm. Later.

Night-night.

What´s he supposed to have done, then?

We´re just making inquiries
at this stage, madam.

Phone book.

Claire Bicknall.

Judith Ingleby.

Sir.

Here, there´s a pair of mine in there!

Margaret Crabbe.

I´ll tell you what,
he can´t have gone very far...

his car´s still parked outside.

Pie in the Sky.

Aaah!

No!

Take that off.

You pathetic little...

Keep her away from me.

Margaret! Are you all right?

Never better, thank you.

Well, Freddy, I don´t know what you said

to Clive Ingleby,
but he´s been as good as gold.

You can keep DS Cambridge,
for the time being.

Oh, Crabbe´s in his good books as well.

Wasn´t Crabbe pushing for

early retirement last year?

Ingleby said he thought he might be able

to swing something
without any loss of pension.

Retirement? Oh, God, no.

Last thing Crabbe wants.

Fine, fine.

Mike, in the unlikely event that
you should bump into Crabbe,

don´t mention the retirement
thing, all right?

Fine by me. This is excellent.

Shall we have the Stilton
and whatsit, Sauternes, again?

Ah.

Hello, Hugh.

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