All language subtitles for Agatha.Raisin.S02E02

AGATHA: Left!

I said left
at the twirly lines

and then right
at the twizzly doodah.

Where's your sat nav?

GEMMA: Well, I've not got one.

Well, I have,
but it's on my moby.

Yeah, which hasn't had a signal
since I don't know when.

Do you know what this is like?

It's like we're in the middle
of the Amazon

instead of the Cotswolds.

Well, you said
you wanted solitude.

I wanted a rural retreat

to begin writing my first novel
and let the muse descend,

not leave civilization behind
and live like Robinson Crusoe.

Well, we can turn back
if you like.

Feh-feh-feh, puh-huh.

Feh. What's that?

-Right, "P.H."
-Yeah.

-Public House.
-Is it?

It's a pub, innit, Agatha?

It's...

-Oh, it's that way.
-...that way.

-GEMMA: Pub!
-AGATHA: Pub!

Excuse me, I wonder
if you could help us --

MAN:
Let me get that one for you.

Yes, we're looking for
Oberon Cottage.

-ROSIE: Old Mary Cutler's place?
-Mm-hmm.

Hang a right at Puck's Lane.

At the end, you can't miss it.

Now, can I get you ladies
anything first?

No, no, no.

Uh, well don't let us
keep you from your, eh --

you know, your work.

-Ohh!
-ROSIE: Whoa.

Sorry. Sorry.

I nearly tripped over
your funny little housey thing.

-What is it?
-A Fairy House.

AGATHA: A Fairy what?

-Oh!
-That's right.

Local legend has it
they live 'round here.

AGATHA: Fairies.
What was she like?

GEMMA: Stunning, I thought.

Her perfume smelled amazing.

Those blokes obviously
thought so, too, didn't they?

Completely ignored us.

It's a shame
'cause I quiet liked

the, uh, moody-looking one.

AMY: Mrs. Raisin.

Amy Redfern.

Welcome to Oberon Cottage.

I lit the fire for you.

The cottage dates back
to the 17th century.

Oh, really?

Aww.

Is that when it was
last cleaned?

This explains
how everything works,

inventory, et cetera.

The cottage used to belong to

an elderly lady who passed away,
Mary Cutler.

Oh, death by dust, was it?

AGATHA:
Oh, yes, we heard about her

briefly in the pub.

Landlady seemed popular.

I suspect my husband
was in there.

Scraggy beard,
gamekeeper clothes?

That woman has
the morals of a tomcat.

And here's the garden.

Right, I'll leave you to it.

You've got my number.

Hey, Gem.

-Why don't you stay?
-Oh no chance. No.

Kyra's with her dad

I'm on a promise
with Brendan the Butcher, I am.

Well, slaughterman
to be precise.

He works at the abattoir,
anyway.

Good with his hands,
apparently.

Come on. It'll be fun.

Nah. I got to go
and tidy myself up.

-All right, bye then.
-All right, then, see you.

GEMMA:

CHARLES:
Girls night in, is it?

GEMMA: Oh, um, yeah,
I'm just feeding the cats, I am,

while Aggie's away.

She's gone Fryfam to get away
from the hustle and bustle.

Popcorn and box sets
for the cats?

GEMMA: Yeah.
Yeah they love it.

Um, that's, it's Kitty Corn.

And, uh, well, a bit of noise

stops them from getting lonely

"Breaking Bad"?

Yeah, they're big fans.

-Afternoon, Sarah.
-Hello.

CHARLES:
What's wrong with Mrs. B?

Oh yeah, um,
it's 'cause of James.

He sent her a postcard saying
he was coming back soon.

Right, well,
I better be getting on,

um, getting in,
and getting on with it.

All right then.

See ya.

All right, I'm here, lovelies,

with the box set
you asked for.

Oh, stop winking.

Flirt!

-Aah!

NIGEL: Oh, I suppose a brace
of partridge and a pheasant

isn't bad for an amateur.

TOLLY: I'm just trying to
make you feel good.

Oh, Nige doesn't need any help
feeling good about himself,

-do you darling?

Well, how could I, darling,
with you by my side?

Eh...

Good.

NIGEL: Come and sit down here,
darling, go on.

There we are.

Large gin and tonic, please,

and don't hold back
on the measures.

ROSIE: Coming up.

They not got homes to go to?

Sometimes I wonder.

Agatha, right?

Rosie.

You okay?

Ahh.

Getting better by the second.

So you know all
this Fairies faff.

I saw some little dancing lights
at the bottom of my garden.

It's just fireflies, right?

Because fairies don't exist,
do they?

There not real are they?

Well, not that I'm bothered
if you all think that they do

'cause --

You ever thought
about publicizing it?

It would be
"The Fairies of Fryfam."

It would -- I tell you,
there would be bus loads,

coach --
coach loads of people,

just, trust me.

I worked in PR, so...

In fact, if anybody --

contact details.

Just, any-- anyone?

ROSIE:
Is that what you do now?

No. No.

Oh, no, no, no.

I packed up
and moved to Carsely.

Writing my first novel,
actually.

It's a bit of a murder mystery.

Yeah, in Carsely,

I am something of a detective,
you know.

TOLLY: Sorry to interrupt.

Rosie, darling, be a sweetheart

and get me another
large single malt, please.

Anyone else?

Nigel?

Lizzie?

LUCY: Psst.

Psst, hello, you?

Detective lady.

I have to be quick.

AGATHA: Yeah, well.

Use the other cubicle then.

You're a detective right?

Yes, I have been known
to solve the odd mystery.

Although not usually
at this point in time.

It's Tolly.

My husband.

He's having an affair
with that hoe behind the bar.

-Rosie?
-LUCY: Yes!

Don't be fooled by that act.

She's an evil harpy,
and I'll pay you to prove it.

Oh, you see, the point is,

I'm actually
supposed to be here --

LUCY: Tomorrow morning.
Manor House.

We can talk then.

Mum's the word.

AGATHA: Oh, No, no, no, no, no

I can't.

Oh.

Signal. Signal.

Oh.

AGATHA: Hi. Hello.

Hello. Hello.

He--

Oh, hey, how it going?

Gem, can you hear m--
I can't.

I can't hear a thing.
Brilliant.

-GEMMA: How what?
-AGATHA: Gem?

Ho-- oh, I've got loads
to tell you.

Um, yep, yep, yep.

GEMMA: Someone's pooch
fouled the pavement,

bit of a to-do actually,

'cause no one picked it up.

-Gem.
-GEMMA: Oh.

And there was this
sexual assault incident

at the duck pond.

Really?

GEMMA: Some of those male ducks
such tinkers,

really rough, they were,

like ganging up
on one of the hens.

Gem!
Will you shut up and listen?

Okay. You all right?

No, I'm not all right.

This -- this place is weird,
the people are creepy,

and somebody is
making effigies of me

and sticking nails into me.

Oh, hey, that's nice.

No! It is not nice.

It is not nice at all

Somebody wants rid of me!

Ohh, oh.

Oh.

Aah! Ah!

Oi! Should you not be
at school or something?

LUCY: Thank you for coming.

Tolly's here, not to worry.

I think it will be good for you
to see the whites of his eyes.

Shall we?

Tolly, love,
meet Agatha Raisin.

She's just popped 'round
to say hello.

Hello.

You were in the pub.

-Yes, I was in the p--
-Yeah. Me too.

Regrettably
I stayed a bit late

putting the world
to rights.

Shall we?

Oh, and this is Mrs. J.,
our help and all 'round savior.

-Agatha.
-AGATHA: Hello.

Hello, dear.

-Stopping at Oberon, I gather.
-Yes, well, I --

Heard all about
your detective novels, I have.

News travels.

Faster than the speed of light
'round here.

I love a good detective novel

so you're more than welcome.

Cuppa tea?
Oh cup of tea

-would be lovely, Mrs. J.
-Builder's?

You look like
a Builder's kind of girl to me.

TOLLY:

The whites of his eyes?
They're red.

What time did you get back
last night?

About 11:00.

Tolly stayed for a lock-in,
says he was with Nigel.

I think Rosie.

AGATHA: What makes you so sure
that it's Rosie?

LUCY: A woman just knows.

Coming home late,

not being
where he says he'll be.

She has a hold over men.

All sensual and enticing

with her sultry ways
and provocative perfume.

Black Widow.

I bet it's expensive.

Where do you buy it?

-Oh, no, she's a black widow.
-Oh.

She makes the perfume herself
to ensnare men.

I just need proof.

And when you get it,
then what?

I fight for him,
win him back.

What else is there?

Ahh, there you are.

Wondered where you'd got to.

Your brew is ready.

LUCY:
We'll be in in a moment.

Lucy, how old are you?

22.

Do you not think

you're a bit young
for all of this?

I mean, shouldn't you be out
hashtagging or raving

or something?

It's not my kind of thing.

You wouldn't understand.

I came from nothing.
I don't want to go back.

Will you help me?

TOLLY: Lucy!

Please tell me that dreadful
loudmouth woman has gone?

AGATHA: Just about to.

I'd love to.

SARAH: Uh, James. Sarah.

I Got your postcard.

So you might be home soon?

That's great.

Of course,
you might change your mind,

you know,
adventurer that you are.

I mean, why even come home?

Uh, anyway, let me know.

Okay. Bye.

AGATHA: Hey!

AGATHA:
Are you responsible for this?

No.

Rabbit for you.

I can skin it if you want.

What? No. No.

Why? Just go on. Leave.

Go on, take that thing with you.

Go on.

Aah! Aah!

Ohh!

-It's me.

It's Charles.

What are you even doing here?

I was bored.

Oh, so, I'm a cure
for boredom now, am I?

Well, I thought
I'd pop up for a ride.

Beg your pardon?

On my vintage 250.

There's always excitement
wherever you are, Agatha.

And something has clearly
got you rattled.

Share.

The village of the damned,
that's what.

Usually people get welcomed
to the countryside

with cakes and chutneys.

I get this.

Some weird lights
and a dead rabbit.

I must say,

I am partial to a bit of rabbit.

Don't.

Do not even go there, Charles.

So what news from Carsely?

None, really.

I just thought you might like
a little bit of company,

stuck out here
all on your lonesome.

No, no, no, no, no.

No more swagger of the shagger,
Charles.

I know we did
the jiggy-jiggy thing --

Made love, Agatha.

And we agreed
that it was not a good idea.

Terrible idea.
Nightmare.

Nightmare?
What do you mean nightmare?

Why? Why was it a --

Actually, don't answer that.

The point is we have moved on.

Ships that do that shippy thing
in the night.

Absolutely.

So you can go
and stay at the pub.

Actually, no, not the pub,

because there's a stunning
harpy, mermaid,

Mata-Hari woman there

who's luring men to their ruin.

Sounds good to me.

You can have
the spare room here.

Although I do need
to talk to her

as part of
my investigation.

Investigation?

Excellent.

Should we go on the bike?

What's with all
the little people?

I really wish I knew.

This whole place
is a bit weirdy-woo.

Maniac!

-You all right?
-Yeah.

GEMMA:
Bit early for a snifter innit?

BILL:
Sarah's worried about James.

Yeah, I'm worried
he's gonna be vile to her

like he was at the wedding.

You know, I'll never
forgive him for that.

Well, now obviously,
I have forgiven him,

but it was really, really hard.

Well, maybe we can talk to him
before she comes back.

Well, I'd hurry up
if I were you.

She's having a bit of a wobble.

To be fair,
they are sticking pins

in effigies of her.

BILL: Are they?

I've got a couple of days off.
Maybe I should go see her.

Maybe you both should.

GEMMA: My round, is it?

I'm so sorry.

MRS, J: All right, love?

Fancy some nice rabbit stew?

BARRY:
Yeah, in a minute, mum.

CHARLES: Oh, nothing.

Oh, so that's where the local
squirearchy live, is it?

Nice pad.

Why are the gates open?

LUCY:

Tolly.

He's dead.

-Mrs. Raisin.
-AGATHA: Yes.

DCI Percy Hand.

DCI?

Off duty in the pub, then,
were we?

Indeed.

And you are?

Charlie Fraith.

Sir Charles Fraith,
I think you'll find.

Yes, we were heading towards
your local,

heard Lucy scream,
and ran inside,

and there she was.

-Red-handed.
-AGATHA: Lucy?

Yes, well --
What? No, really.

I mean, do you think so?

Did you see anyone else?

How was he, um...?

We'll need a full statement.

He's not going to solve
a crossword puzzle,

let alone a murder.

CHARLES: Seems pretty clear
the wife did it.

She gets to inherit,
I take it.

No, no, no.

Charles, she hired me
to investigate.

Why's she gonna kill him?

Don't make any sense.

Unless it was
a crime passionelle.

-A cream what?
-CHARLES: They row.

She's not thinking about
the fact that she hired you.

She can't wait for proof.

She just wants to kill
the bastard.

Charles, it's not her.

Cutting a throat
is a male killing.

-Is it?
-AGATHA: Yes.

CHARLES: How do you know?

Because I read a book,
a detective novel.

"Dial M For Macho" --

it is classic of the genre.

That's fiction.

Well, I think you'll find
that fiction and reality

have a funny way
of crossing over.

Agatha?

Agatha, you can't just
swan on in there.

It's a murder scene.

That is exactly why
I can swan on in there.

Where was Mrs. J, the help?

She might have seen something.

And why were those kids
all skulking around?

Whoo-hoo.

What have we here?

A break-in?

Or a broken flowerpot.

Dozens of them at mine.

I'll keep dixie.

You do that.

Look!

Above the fireplace.

The painting has gone.

Big thing of a horse...
So, someone's moved it.

Stolen more like.

A burglary!

Tolly disturbs them and...

Well, better tell the DCI then.

I'm not giving Hand a hand.

Not in any sense of the word.

FRAMP: They said very nasty,
very swollen they were.

Said, "you know what?

He's only 7 years old,

shouldn't be that size,
get him down the doctor."

Right, you two, I need you
to move that van out there.

-What van?
-What do you mean what van?

FRAMP: That van, big white,
looks like a van.

That's right! Move!

Move!

What van?

Oh, my God.

I'll tell you what.
That dog been here all day?

That been here all day?

If it's come in here
and laid any of its mess

around these carpets,

we're absolutely plastered.

Tell you what though,

this whole crime scene...

HAND: Oi, once the SOCO boys
have finished downstairs,

get them up here.

Start in the main bedroom.

Go on.

Yes, sir.

GEMMA: You go.

Well, it's only an hour

if Aggie's not navigating.

Why don't we both go?

As friends.

Because we're not friends,
are we?

We're more than that.

And I don't mean
in a "more than just friends"

kind of a way.

In what way then?

Well, in a "we went
on a couple of dates,"

your mother hated me

'cause she thought I wasn't
good enough for you,

and then when you and I
got down and dirty,

you couldn't light my fire"
kind of a way.

Oh, besides, you know,
I've got things to do here.

Haven't I, my lovely?

Oh.

See, animals, you can trust.

Well, apart from Harvey
over there,

but in general.

Oh, don't you worry,
my little duvet.

Time's a great healer.

Apparently.

CHARLES: So who's Fizz?

AGATHA: Code for the woman

that Tolly's having
an affair with.

Keep up, Charles.

She's heard the rumor
that he's dead,

and she's madly
ringing him,

in the hope
that he's gonna pick up.

Well, that could be anyone --

a concerned friend,
a family member.

Nope.
I checked the call history.

No previous calls from Fizz.

Only the 18 this morning.

Yeah, so that's means
that he was obviously

deleting her calls
on a regular basis.

You don't do that
unless you're --

-You know what I mean?
-So why don't we ring it then?

Charles, all in good time,
all in good time.

First of all, I want to find out

exactly what everyone
thinks that they know.

And how do we do that?

Well using
a centuries-old technique

for extracting information.

Torture?

Gossip.

Oh, have you heard?

It's terrible, isn't it?

I mean, why would Lucy
do such a thing?

Lucy, really?

Do you think?

Totally.

She was never one of us.

-Such a...newcomer.
-Mm. Really?

How long do you think
it would take

for someone to be, you know,
accepted here?

Three, maybe four hundred years.

She never belonged.

And was ever so plain.

Thought she used to be a model.

Not top-flight or anything.

Not even second landing, really.

-Catalog stuff.
-AGATHA: Oh.

She did a shoot
at the Manor House, though,

-didn't she?
-Sanitary towels, darling.

Still you know,
in my experience,

you never know with murder.

I mean, it could be anyone,
anyone.

I mean, it could be --
I don't know.

It could be your husband,
for example.

-AGATHA: I mean, where was he?
-Out.

-Is he always 'out'?
-Yes.

He's a gamekeeper.

What about Tolly then?

I mean, who didn't like Tolly?

Someone must have not liked him,

'cause I mean he was called
"Tolly," for God's sake.

Barry. Mrs. J's son.

He was the gardener
at the Manor House,

but he got soft on Lucy.

Tolly sacked him on the spot.

Really?

Did he now?

Murder's clearly good
for business.

Or are you always this popular?

Gorgeous perfume, by the way
I can smell it from here.

Charlie Fraith.

You a friend of Agatha's?

-Mm...no.

I mean, not in
the biblical sense.

Stop flirting and start asking
about that stolen painting.

Whatever you do, don't knock
into her fairy house,

or there'll be a riot.

Go on, then. Shoo.

Will do.

You might need to pay.

Can I ask you a question
about Tolly?

Sorry.
Bit busy at the mo.

Unless you want to join me.

Know how to pull a pint,
do we?

Listen, Twinkletoes,
I grew up in Dumfries.

Of course
I know how to pull a pint.

Two pints of Best then.

Fizz?

Top shelf.

No, I mean, do you know
anyone of that name?

No.

Where were you when
Tolly was killed?

-Here.
-AGATHA: Anyone vouch for that?

Because the Manor House
is just up the road.

You could have been up there
and back again in two minutes.

Is this you being a detective?

Maybe.

So was Tolly part
of your little harem?

'Cause I know he was here
late last night for a lock-in.

Wrong.
He left seconds after Lucy.

Who with?

I serve 'em drinks.

I don't sign them out.

And I don't do gossip.

AGATHA: Really?

Well, Lucy thought that you two
were having an affair.

Any other questions
or can I get on and serve?

Do you really make
your own perfume?

What you looking at?

Baps.

-I beg your pardon.
-NIGEL: Two of them.

Cheese and pickle.

Your friend's death clearly not
affecting your appetite then?

AGATHA: Hey.

You're supposed to be working.

CHARLES: I am.

Listen.

Painting's a Stubbs.

Famous for his portraits
of animals,

horses, especially.

BILL: What's a man got to do
to get a drink in this place?

Bill!

Oh, nice jacket.

Thanks.

Is this community service?

Something like that.

Nigel wants to say a few words.

NIGEL: Ladies and gentlemen,

family and friends,
one and all, of Tolly.

Today we are united in shock

at the tragic events
at the Manor House.

Tolly was a dear friend.

He was a good man.

and he will be sorely missed.

So, let's raise a glass
to one of our own.

-NIGEL: To Tolly.
-ALL: To Tolly!

Oh, for --

Hello?

Fizzy Lizzie.

Okay, so. Fingers here
is the Murderer.

-But who is he?
-Or she.

CHARLES: No, Bill.

The victim's throat was cut.

That's a male thing.

Fact.

Barry the ex-gardener's
got to be in with a shout.

As has Major Speechmaker.

We think his wife was having
an affair with victim Anatol.

-What?
-Anatol. Tolly.

Really?

Well, could it not be
the Major's wife?

Tolly ends the affair,
she's devastated.

Bill, we've established

that the murderer
can't be a woman.

Paul Redfern.

He hangs about with rabbits
and guns.

Plus, I saw him lurking
at the estate earlier so...

And Rosie,
aww, the pub landlady.

I thought
you'd ruled out women.

Yes, we had.

But Charles
is really annoying me,

so she's back in.

CHARLES: Huh!

In 2011, a Stubbs painting
sold at auction

for £22.4 million.

-BILL:
-What?

It's getting like
Piccadilly Circus around here.

AGATHA: The van.

Someone stole the painting

between me being there
first thing

and then us heading to the pub

when the van drove past.

So maybe the painting
was inside the van.

So, we need to find out
who the van belongs to.

What?

GEMMA: Ta-da!

I changed my mind.

Well, about bloody time.

What's in the basket?

Ida, everyone.

Everyone, Ida.

I couldn't leave you there
to that Harvey,

could I, my lovely?

-Lunch?
-Shut your face.

Hi-ho.

That's dwarves, Gem.

Oh, there's been a murder?

Are we expecting anybody else?

Only there's somebody
in the garden.

Caught!

So, it was you then, was it,

that stuck that doll to my door
and tried to scare me

with those funny, flicky little
lighty things?

So what is it
your cooking up now, hmm?

Buddleia.

Oh! Buddleia is it.

Buddleia.

What for?

They attract butterflies.

I think he's the gardener,
Agatha.

Barry.

Lights?

Seen the Fairies then.
have we?

The gnomes out front
protect 'em and the cottage.

Except the gnomes

are not from the otherworld,
are they?

They're from the garden center.

Each to their own, Mrs. Raisin.

Hm, say that when Tolly

sacked you from the Manor House,
did you?

You don't happen to have
a white van, do you?

Well, what do you know?

BILL:
Okay. Great. Thanks.

Lucy Trumpington-James
has been released on bail.

I'll talk to her.

Right, Bill, Charles,

find and stakeout Major Findlay
and his wife.

-Gem?
-I'll clean.

If we're gonna solve this,

the place needs to be
spick and span.

Roy.

Lucy Trumpington-James.

Maiden name not that.

Catalog modeling
in the Cotswolds

for sanitary towels.

We could be here hours.

Lunchtime
drinking's a killer.

They'll be asleep.

Agatha okay?

Sure.

Why did you come?

I fancied hiding under a tree

in the middle of
the countryside.

Any other reason?

No.

There.

Hello?

They think Tolly disturbed
a burglary.

That's why they bailed me.

Have they found
the murder weapon?

Don't think so.

When you went out riding,

you didn't happen to see

Paul Redfern, the gamekeeper,
did you?

Mrs. J's boy, Barry?

I hear he's got
a bit of a crush on you.

Not reciprocated.

Must have been a pretty big job
for him, working here.

Quite a blow to him financially,
I would have thought.

Do you know how much
the painting was worth?

No.

I couldn't care less.

Tolly was all I cared about.

Even if there were three of us
in the marriage.

What?

What did you find out?

It wasn't Rosie.

Then who?

BILL:
What is this place?

CHARLES:
That is a love nest.

BILL: Do you think?

Believe me,

I know a love nest
when I see one.

Tolly.

So Tolly and Lizzie Findlay

had themselves
a little love shack

away from prying eyes.

That reminds me.

What are the sleeping
arrangements tonight?

HAND: Right, lads,

search the place
from top to bottom.

Yes, sir.

Um...Top.

Uh, excuse me?

What are you doing?

Have you got a warrant?

I'm looking for stolen goods
and a murder weapon.

Your fingerprints were all over
the Manor House.

Mobile phone.

Know anything about that?

No. No.

Odd.

We pinged it to this location.

Oh.

Oh, look, fancy that.

Hey, hey, hey.
You can't read that.

"The Posh Guy Had It Coming"
by Agatha Raisin.

"Unfeasibly unattractive
aristocratic oik

James Trumpington-Tolly...

a burke whose death was
a godsend to humanity."

Obviously,
it's just the first draft.

HAND: Odd that you wrote this
and then it happened,

don't you think?

No.

The other way round.

It happened,
and then I wrote it.

Not according to the time
printed on the bottom.

Sir.

A knife.

What?

Where did you get --

NS OFFICER:
Come upstairs, sir.

There, sir.

What are you doing in here?

This is what
we're doing in here.

Agatha Raisin,
I'm arresting you

on suspicion of the murder
of Tolly Trumpington-James.

Hi, guys. It's me.

Uh, I hope everything's
going well in Fryfam.

Let me know. Bye.

Oh!

Hello, Sarah.

Good to see you.

God.

You smell nice, love.

New perfume?

Must be the shower gel.

Don't mind me.

Sarah.

Oh, yes.

Sorry for not
getting back sooner.

Yeah, the reception's mad here.

-What?

-Is she's still in custod --
-GEMMA: Agatha?

Was that -- oh, yea.

No, she's --
she's fine, I think.

I haven't actually seen her
since last night...

on account of
she was arrested.

Yeah, but has she been
charged yet?

Suspicion of murder.

Yeah, we don't think
she did it.

It's hard to be 100 percent.

Oh.

-Sorry.
-Sorry.

Looking for fairies,
are we, Charles?

Au contraire.

Looking for evidence of a hoax.

No, thank you.

Who said it's a hoax?

CHARLES: It has to be.

We have to be logical.

If it looks like a duck,

quacks like a duck
and swims like a duck,

chances are it's a duck.

So, do we have a plan?

First stop, Major Findlay.

See what he knows
about his wife's affair.

Any news on Agatha?

They kept her in
for questioning.

But she didn't
steal the painting

or kill Tolly, right?

So someone's trying
to frame her.

Maybe the whole village
is in on it,

you know, like in that movie.

But how, who, and why?

Well, that Amy one,
she's got a key.

The moody gardener,

he clearly knows his way
'round a bush or two.

Although,
I was here all day yesterday

hoovering with my headphones on.

I would have noticed
if someone would have come in.

But I didn't.

Oh, except for that gust of air
that I felt.

So...

in conclusion,
it's either definitely

the police last night,

or someone who might have
sneaked in

when I was hoovering.

Maybe.

JAMES: Ah,
it's great to be back.

How is everyone?

More to the point,
where is everyone?

Oh, you know Carsely.

Same as ever,
same old, same old.

it's actually a bit boring
without

-Agatha.
-Agatha?

Yes. Agatha. Raisin.

Bundle of energy,
impeccable sense of bad timing,

tends to forget
former marriages.

You know the one.

You can talk about her,
you know.

She's away, I think.

I can't quite remember
where now.

You're a terrible liar.

Well, Agatha's fine.

Let's just leave it there,
shall we?

She's in trouble then.

-Okay, what makes you say that?
-Because it's Agatha,

and because you are displaying
all the usual signs

of trying to cover for her --

not very well, I might add.

Well, I'm sorry, James.

I'm just not gonna tell you
any more.

You and Agatha are over,
aren't you?

Yes.

So there we have it.

End of. Fini.

You'll just have to take up
golf or something.

CHARLES:
This is going to be awkward.

BILL: Think Agatha.

Front it head on.

Tactless, you mean.

Well...

NIGEL: How can we help?

DC Bill Wong,
Evesham police.

We'd like to ask you
a few questions

about the death of
Tolly Trumpington-James.

Oh no. No.

Percy's dealing with that.

BILL: He is.

But some of the suspects
come under the Evesham umbrella.

Fire away then.

CHARLES: Well, it's...

It's your wife that we need
to speak to, really.

Nothing you can't ask
in front of me.

Spit it out, man.

Is it about Lizzie
and Tolly's affair?

Oh, what?
I'm not stupid.

All those furtive looks
out hunting,

the last-minute invitations
to girls' nights out,

the ripped underwear
in the trash.

BILL: Where were you
yesterday morning

when Mr. Trumpington-James
was killed?

There's a knocking shop in Stow.

Quid pro quo and all that.

Feel free to check.

-GEMMA: Hi.
-BILL: Hiya.

GEMMA: Hey.

That gnome looks an awful lot
like Sarah, doesn't it?

BILL: Sarah, hi.

What are you doing here?

James is back.

Ah.

You didn't tell him
where we were, did you?

No. No.

But I had to come.
I couldn't trust myself not to.

What do we tell Agatha?

Nothing.
We mustn't.

Agreed?

-Yeah, yeah.
-Absolutely.

-I agree.
-Yes.

Do we know his intentions
towards Agatha?

His what?

Have you gone through
a time tunnel or something?

I've no idea what he's thinking.

You know I used to believe
in fairies when I was little.

I really, really
wanted to be Tinkerbell

playing with Peter Pan
and the Lost Boys.

Oh, I was Tinkerbell.

Except where I was,

it was Peter Lang
and the Radlett boys.

Shh. Shh!

Oh, they're here.

Hi-ho.

That's dwarves, Gem.

Oh!

Oi!

Oh...

CHILD #1: Come on guys.

-Let's go.
-CHILD #2: Yeah, let's go.

One crime solved.

Sadly. Yeah.

-CHILD #1: Come on! Don't stop!
-CHILD #2:

Does this mean
I am no longer a suspect?

It means
we can't charge you yet.

Our pathologist checked
the knife wound

that killed Tolly

against the bread knife
we took from your kitchen.

They're a perfect match.

But, for you to be
letting me go,

presumably this is because

there's none of his blood
or my DNA on it.

Meaning you cleaned it well.

Or your pathologist is wrong.

Do you know what I think?

I don't think it's you
that killed Tolly.

Oh well, at least we agree
on something then.

And I'm prepared to forget
all about your activities.

If -- Oh, God I feel
there's an "if" coming.

-If...
-There it is.

If you just leave us be.

Funny.

Someone wrote that phrase
on a note

that was pinned to my door.

Know anything about it?

Is that clear?

Ah.

You smell familiar.

HAND: Get out.

Nose out, right?

Heard you the first time.

I knew it.

DCI Hand.

BILL: I have no idea.

Oh.

It's Agatha.

She's out.

Gone undercover.

Oh, dirty girl.

Wants to know the news our end?

HAND:
I will sort that for you, Rose.

ROSIE: Time at the bar,
ladies and gents.

Time at the bar.

-MAN #1: Cheers, Rosie.
-MAN #2: Night, Rosie.

-WOMAN #1: Thank you, Rosie.
-WOMAN #2: Night, Rosie.

MAN #3: Good night, Rosie.

PAUL: I should have said
something.

ROSIE: It's okay, Paul.

PAUL: No, it's not.

Her life is ruined.

I should go to the police
and take the knife.

Don't you dare.

Oh, I better go.

Before Amy suspects.

-Oh, God.
-CHARLES: Agatha?

Aah!

Shh! Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Charles, why are you even here?

Well, I was sleeping.

Well you're supposed
to be sleeping

in the spare room
at the cottage.

Well, Gemma's in there,
and I'm really not her type.

And what?
Bill is in my bed?

No, Bill's on the sofa.
Sarah's in your bed.

Sarah what?

Why is Sarah here?

I think she just missed us.

And I didn't fancy sharing
with Bill on the sofa.

So I checked in.

-CHARLES: What's your excuse?
-Me?

Well, Hand dropped me off here,

and then I smelled his --

perfume on him --

Not his perfume,
Rosie's perfume on him.

So I --
I followed him here.

And, uh, then he left,

and she came up here
with Paul Redfern

who started talking
about the knife.

You know what?

I think she's key.

She won't tell me anything,
she refuses to gossip.

She gives nothing away.

And I'm just so tired.

-Long day?
-AGATHA: Horrendous.

Oh.

You know what?

I don't think
I'm cut out for this.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

Oh, I'm being serious, Charles.

I'm not a bad person.

Well, maybe...

I don't know. I might --
maybe just a little bit.

You know what I mean.

I'm just trying to help.

I mean, that's not so bad,
is it?

Just -- I'm just not...

Hmm?

Oh, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

That's not the way
this day is supposed to end.

CHARLES: You came into
my hotel room, Agatha?

By accident, Charles.

Well, let's call it fate.

Mm.

GEMMA:

Ohh...

Psst!

Hey.

-Morning.
-Morning.

AGATHA: Right,
come on you lot.

Murders to investigate,
bodyguard required.

Over to you then, Bill.

Where are we going?

To talk to a gamekeeper
about a knife.

According to an eye-witness,

Paul Redfern was in the pub,
late last night

and he knows something
about the murder weapon.

Okay.
I'll just get my jacket.

So where did you get to, then,
last night?

According to an "eyewitness"?

I think that's you, innit?

-No.
-GEMMA: Yeah, it is.

But then why would you say that

unless something did happen
at the pub last night

that you didn't want
to talk about.

Oh, I wonder what that could be.

Oh, I know.
You slept with Charles.

It just happened.

Oh, it's all right,
I lie about my love life.

I didn't go and see Butcher Boy
in the end.

I chickened out.

I just went 'round yours
and stuffed my face

full of popcorn
and crystal meth.

It's a box set.

So, we're quits now, innit?

Charles all right?

He's a little bit selfish

and he does this
funny thing with his --

No, I didn't mean in bed.

Oh, right.

Uh, he's, having breakfast.

Okay, right.

Here we go, then.

Kitchen Items and Cutlery.

Fully Forged Bread Knife.

Quantity...

Two.

Right.

Bill, can you find out
who this cottage belongs to?

Of course.

-Agatha!
-AGATHA: Sarah.

SARAH: Uh...

They told me

that you had been arrested
on suspicion of murder.

I just had to come
and make sure you were okay.

Oh, right, I see.

So James is back then?

-GEMMA: Aggie!

Agatha!

Need some help
with the war-paint?

Uh, nope.

It's fine.

I've got it.

Work to do.

How is she?

Yeah she'll be all right.
Yeah.

Oh it turns out I know
Major and Mrs. Findlay.

-Oh, saucy devil you.
-No.

Jez runs marriage counseling
courses.

They didn't want to attend
in their parish...

so they came to ours.

So I've arranged to meet Lizzie.

Good for you Mrs. B.

Owner of Oberon Cottage.

You're kidding me.

Agatha.

Mr. Redfern?

Paul?

Shotgun blast to the chest.

Another male murder.

Paul Redfern was up
at the Manor House

around the time of
Tolly wotsit's murder.

Maybe he witnessed something.

Or found something.

Maybe the knife?

Didn't stick to the deal, then?

Well, someone's got to solve
these murders, don't they.

Or are you going to try
and pin this one on me as well?

I'll do whatever I need to.

Riddle me this then, Percy boy.

According to the inventory
at my cottage,

there are two bread knives.

You lot took one.

Where's the other one?

Taken by the same person
or persons

that planted
the painting of a horse

under my bed.

All very fanciful,
Mrs. Raisin,

all very "Godfather."

Is that right?

Well, we shall see.

And of course it's not
Agatha's cottage anyway, is it?

It's yours.

Who is Old Mary Cutler, then?

My mother.

So as owner of the Cottage,

you would know
how to get in and out

and exactly what was
on the inventory,

wouldn't you?

Now, I don't know whether
you killed Tolly wotsit

and now Paul Redfern.

But I'm gonna find out
whether you like it or not.

Last warning, Raisin.

Don't interfere
with police business.

Good luck with that.

I'm so, so sorry
for your loss.

Thanks.

May I...

But if you want to find out
who killed your husband,

you better start talking.

And I think I am a better bet
than lover boy,

DCI Percy Hand.

What are you talking about?

You're wearing Rosie's perfume,
which is odd

considering you think she's got
the morals of a tomcat.

A gift from Percy, am I right?

I could smell it on him.

And here was you accusing her.

You don't know her like we do,

sashaying around the village
like Dita Von Teese.

So, two wrongs make a right,
do they?

Talk to me.

DCI Percy Hand --

How? Why?

He was there for me
when Paul wasn't.

I thought he was...
with Rosie...

and I weakened.

So did Paul know
about your affair?

I didn't think he did
until this morning.

I think he smelled the perfume.

SARAH: Sorry, the counseling
didn't work out.

Wasn't your fault.

Or Jez's.

I --

I loved it here.

Didn't have to be
a Major's dowdy wife.

I could be a...

someone else.

What will you do now?

I gather Nigel's been
understanding.

If regular visits
to the knocking shop

counts as understanding.

Uh, will you separate?

God, no.

That would be far too much
like hard work.

We'll just muddle along
in tepid hatred.

SARAH: You don't need to be
doing this right now.

Yes, I do.

Lucy rang last night.

Figured out
this is where we came,

told me to get everything out
before she burned it.

-It must be hard for her, too.
-Not really.

All she cares about is getting
the painting back

so she can sell it.

I'm sorry.
Which painting?

It was going to go there.

So, if Paul Redfern knew about
his wife's affair,

then DCI Hand had a reason
to silence him.

Exactly, so I need to find out
precisely what Rosie knows.

You're sure you want
to see her on your own?

Yes. Woman to woman.

You?

We're going to talk to Mrs. J.

-Are we?
-Yeah.

Just asked at the Post Office.

She does the cleaning
at the cottage.

Good, you can do
some digging about Hand.

Will do, don't worry,
she'll dish the dirt.

-She hates him.
-Really?

-How do you know?
-From her cleaning.

She sweeps dust
under the carpet,

she does not dispose
of rubbish,

she leaves rats to rot.

It's all the things I do
when I don't like a client.

Is that what you do at mine?

No, of course not.

Not yet anyway.

Any other little dirty tricks
I should know about?

Yeah.

Any cleaner worth their salt

should always carry

a three-in-one
disinfectant spray

to ward off any unwanted
male friskiness.

Agatha?

Don't -- don't mind me.

Sorry for interrupting.

-Agatha.
-Yeah.

-Hi.
-Hi.

-Everything all right?
-You know, interesting.

You?
How was Lizzie Findlay?

Heartbroken.

She told me something
about the painting.

Did you know Lucy
had it valued two weeks ago?

No, I did not.

And that changes everything.

GEMMA:
Oh, hi, yeah.

We're staying
at Oberon Cottage.

Oh, yes.

Oh. Like a read then, do you?

Love a read.

Detectives mainly.

Hamish Macbeth's my favorite.

How can I help?

You do the cleaning
at the cottage, don't you?

I do, indeed.

Well, it's just that --

Well, thing is,
'cause I clean myself,

and you do all the things
at Oberon that I do

when I can't stand
the client,

which in this case is DCI Hand.

We just want to know what it is
you don't like about him.

Well, it's the fairies,
isn't it?

Drives me nuts, it does.

He gets it from his mother.

Old Mary was away
with the fairies in every sense

but nice with it.

And Percy was, too, as a lad

until his Dad made him grow up
and become a copper.

Can't believe in fairies
if you're a copper.

So he does believe in them?

Like the rest of the village.

Fine by me,

but insists
we keep quiet about it.

Who's he to tell me what to do?

That's why he wasn't happy

when your Agatha
started banging on

about coach parties,
advertising it.

Of course.

The irony is
that the fairies don't exist.

It's just three local boys
with flashing Christmas lights.

Proper gutted when I found out.

No.

That's Hand's kids.

Sent in as decoys by their Dad

to send you away as skeptics.

Yes!

LUCY: Go away
or I'll call the police.

AGATHA:

Now why do that,
all of a sudden?

LUCY:
They brought my painting back.

You stole it.

Well, I think we both know that
that is not true.

So why don't you just open
the gates and let me through...

like you did when you let
Barry Jackson

drive through
with the painting?

Ah.

Returned to
its rightful place then.

That's all you cared about,
right?

-Tolly's all I cared about.
-AGATHA: Really.

Well, not according
to Lizzie Findlay.

You said that you didn't know
how much that was worth.

And yet,
according to Lizzie Findlay,

you had it valued
two weeks ago.

And you believe her?

Her...and a very good friend
of mine,

who checked out
the modeling career

of a certain Lucy Bagshot,

a wannabe
from a council estate in Clacton

who would do absolutely anything
to get out of there,

because leaving
that world behind

matters more than any man.

Am I right?

I can relate to that.

I didn't kill him.

No. I don't think you did.

But why steal a painting

that you knew
you were about to inherit?

This is about
two separate crimes,

as you well know.

And you committed one of them.

You stole that, didn't you?

So what if I did?

Tolly was gonna give it away.

I wasn't having that.

So you got good old besotted
Barry the gardener to help?

Which he did
because he loved you.

Because he loved his job.

He tended his gardens here
for years.

He wanted to get back at Tolly
full stop.

So you go out riding,

Barry steals the painting
as agreed.

But then what?

Tolly catches him in the act?

Barry kills him,
and then as he's leaving,

Paul Redfern sees him
all covered in blood

or -- or trying to hide
the murder weapon or something,

which makes him a target.

Barry swears
he didn't see Tolly.

He said he took the painting
and left.

And you believe him?

Where does Barry live?

Back with his Mum these days.

Right.

Well, I want a word with him.

And don't warn him,

unless you want Hand
to know about the painting.

-VICAR: Afternoon.
-Yeah.

Afternoon, Vicar.

-You all right?
-Yeah.

I'm just going
to talk to Barry

who lives with his mother,
apparently.

Oh, okay.

Only Mrs. J
lives back that way.

What?

How come you ended up
in Fryfam?

I'm into all the pagan stuff --

standing stones, herbs,
scents.

I feel grounded here.

Don't tell me
you believe in fairies too?

Why not?

Chaucer, Shakespeare,
and Coleridge did.

Intoxicated and/or deluded,
every one of them.

Something of a speciality
of yours,

deluded men?

Men are simple.

They just want someone
easy on the eye

they can tell
their secrets to

knowing that
they'll go no further.

What about Paul?

What was his secret?

I told you.

I don't do gossip.

Maybe you should go.

Your friend Agatha'll
be looking for you.

She'll be fine.

It'll be you that she wanted
to speak to, anyway, not me.

Me? What for?

Probably to accuse you
of murder.

Oh, well, in that case...

AGATHA: Aah.

Oh, not here already,
are we?

I was just getting comfy.

Doesn't look like anyone's in.

No car. No van.

AGATHA:

Hi, Gem.

-You back at the cottage?
-GEMMA: Yeah.

I'm just with
the gardener fella now.

Wait, what?

Which gardening fella,
Barry Jackson?

Yeah, that's the one.

He's got his chopper out.

Gem, I think
he is the murderer.

Hey.

Sarah, keep it quiet.

Aggie thinks
he could be the murderer.

You need to get back
to the cottage.

-Barry Jackson's there.
-Okay.

-What are you going to do?

Well, we need proof
that it's him.

So I'm gonna have a poke
around here.

Ohh!

-What do we do?
-Keep him here.

How do we do that?

Pretty sure I can think
of a thing or two.

-Ah!

I don't think so, Sonny Jim.

Your arms are so big.

They're just, like, as big as,
like, a bush or something.

-A bush?

BILL: You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, I think so.

-BILL: Gemma.
-Hey.

-Uh, tea?
-Yes, please.

Hmm.

Not now, James.

Rosie?

Brilliant.

Fairy cake?

GEMMA: Bloody rubbish
at flirting, she is.

Oh.

Hi, Aggie. Where are you?

AGATHA: Never mind that.
Just put Bill on.

-BILL: Hi, Agatha.
-AGATHA: Bill.

You know your way
'round a gun, don't you?

Tell me what is
a little squidgy silver

padded thing for?

-GEMMA: What.

-AGATHA: Hello. Hello Bill.

Bill, can you --

-BILL: Hello.
-AGATHA: Yes, hello.

Hello, Bill.

Think, please, please.

it's a little bit squidgy,
cylindrical.

BILL: Agatha, I can't...

I found it at the scene
of Paul Redfern's murder.

BILL: Agatha,
I don't know what it is.

Wait, just --

Wait.

-BILL: Agatha.

BILL: Hello.

GEMMA: Oh, that?

That's a convertible bail
grip cover.

It's a classic hoover appendage.

It's vintage.

Nice bit of kit actually.

Every top cleaner has one.

But, Aggie.

Where are you?

What are those stone things?

Cleaner?

So, Gem--

-Aah! Aah!

Think she's okay?

Yeah.

Why wouldn't she be?

Get my number from the card
in the pub then, yeah?

Pretend to be "Rosie"
to lure me here.

Male murders
and a catapult climax.

Very...literary.

I try my best.

How did you realize
that I thought it was Barry?

Heard the end of your
conversation with Lucy

at the Manor House.

I came in the back way.

All this for him?

I'll take that as a yes.

Because Tolly sacked him?

Tolly did worse than that.

He always looked down on Barry

ever since he was a kid.

When he realized that the boy

from the wrong side
of the tracks

was in love with his Lucy?

Couldn't have that could he?

Sacked him, ridiculed him.

Humiliated.

No one does that to my boy.

GEMMA:
Yeah, about time and all.

Where have you been?

Telling the police
everything that Rosie told me,

mainly about Paul Redfern
having seeing the killer

with the murder weapon.

Where's Agatha?

GEMMA: She's at one of them
stoney things.

Could you be a little bit
more explicit?

You know, where they do
sacrifices and that.

Does Barry know
what you've done?

No.

He knows Paul was trying
to find me.

That's all.

Bless him.

You ever known heartbreak?

Oh, I could write a book on it.

MRS J: I've known it twice.

Once when my husband died,

once when I saw
how crushed Barry was.

I think that was worse.

Paul saw you chucking
the murder weapon?

So what was he
trying to blackmail you?

MRS J.: "Saint" Paul?

No.

Too nice for his own good,
that one.

He figured what I'd done
and...

understood why.

Well, if he was trying
to protect you,

why kill him?

He said
he'd already told someone

about the weapon.

Rosie.

But not who he'd seen with it.

He'd have told her in the end.

Everyone tells her everything.

I couldn't risk that.

Well, now your gonna
have to kill me then,

aren't you?

There is that.

If you...

Aah!

Mum!

-Mum, what have you done?

MRS J:

-Charming.
-Charming indeed.

About earlier.

It wasn't what it seemed.

It was exactly what it seemed.

A tad disappointing,
if I may say.

A little a bit like
something else I could mention.

Excuse me?

I slept with Rosie for the
benefit of the investigation.

Well, hark at you.

Humping her for information,
were we?

You said you that she knew
everyone's secrets

but wouldn't reveal them.

So, I set out to get
underneath her skin.

Not all you got underneath.

I took one for the team.

This is becoming a little bit
of a habit, isn't it.

I mean, we all have
our areas of expertise, I guess,

although...

You know, a little bit
of gratitude wouldn't go amiss.

Charles, you can sleep with
whoever you want to sleep with.

I really don't give a stuff.

-Huh.
-But so soon?

I mean, a matter of hours
after you'd slept with me,

without so much
as a good morning!

Thin ice, Agatha Raisin.

What do you mean by that?

I mean, I wasn't the one
who cried out "Oh, James"

in the middle of making love.

Did I?

CHARLES: You did.

Oh.

You know,
this sleeping together thing

that we keep doing,

I think it's a mistake.

I mean I like you, Charles,

and I know
that you're fond of me.

But I don't want to be
anyone's comfy cardigan

that they just throw on

whenever they need
a bit of comfort.

-Cardigan's a bit harsh.
-AGATHA: Stop it.

You knew James was coming back,
didn't you?

Yes.

But I felt that after Cyprus,

we had unfinished business.

I wanted to figure that out
before --

No.

James and I do whatever it is
that James and I do.

So, this unfinished business,

it is finished, right?

A line drawn?

Yes.

Good.

Well, I think that, for us,

this could be the start
of a beautiful friendship.

Yours, I think.

Oh, don't worry.

I don't care what you believe.

Each to their own, eh?