All language subtitles for Wycliffe - S02E04 - Lost Contact

- Where you going
with that catch?

- Here's your weigh.

- Do you smell it?

- It's not me.

I switched me socks last week.

- Smells like we dredged
up a dead dog.

Something's going on over there.

Go over there and find
out what it is.

Quick.

- Need to get rid of these
crabs as quickly as possible.

- What are you waiting for then?

- From the clothes,
what's left of them,

I'd say we got a middle-aged
man there.

I won't be able to tell
you anymore till I get him

up on the slab.

Well, even then.

- He's been in the
water some days.

- Anyone been looking for him?

- Not that I'm aware of.

- And you're gonna have some fun

putting a name to him.

Half a jaw is missing.

- He was probably pushed
against the rocks

by the tide.

- With so little facial
tissue left,

it's difficult to tell.

Looks like there's been
a slight blackening

to the skin.

- Blackening?

- Though I'd like to
take a closer look.

He'll
never be identified,

he's in such a state.

The
water's a cruel place.

Morning, sir.

Morning Lane.

- I've just come by
the local nick.

There's no reported
boating accidents

or man overboard from
passing tankers.

- That body's been in
the water a fair while.

Somebody would have
shouted about it by now.

- Well, then we're looking
at missing persons.

This is just over in Cornwall.

- Right, let's start with
men aged between 30 and 60.

- Values is a lot of
them, none of them recent.

A few holiday makers, but they
often choose to be a runner.

- Rather than go home.

- Here we go.

Louis Jay reported
missing by his wife

18 months ago.

Possible sightings of
him about the county,

wife concerned over
his mental state.

That's it.

Unless you want to do national?

- No, no, might as
well start with him

as anybody else.

- Good.

Excuse me.

- Yes.

- You're in charge of
this investigation?

- Detective Superintendent
Wycliffe,

can I have your name?

- Edwina Coryn.

The man you found this morning,

it must be my husband, Peter.

- Why do you think that?

- I reported him missing
three weeks ago.

Up in London, not locally.

- Is that where you
last saw him?

- No, here at home.

- Then why report it in London?

- He said he was going to town.

I thought he had.

- Oh, I see.

Did he run regularly.

- Sometimes.

- Is there any possibility
your husband

might have deliberately
mislead you about his plans?

- Oh, no.

I never thought anything
was wrong

until he didn't phone.

We never let a day pass without
speaking with one another,

but I haven't heard
anything from him

for over a month.

- So what do you think happened?

- I went out before
he was due to leave.

Maybe he went for a walk.

We lived a swift way
down the coast.

He could have had a coronary.

- Did he have heart problems?

- Well, it's one always
dreads at his age, isn't it?

When can I see the body?

- Um, I'm afraid visual
identification

may prove to be impossible.

- Oh.

So, what happens then?

- Can you give details of
any identification marks?

Scars, moles, tattoos.

- Oh, yes, I know by
heart the constellation

of moles on Peter's back.

- Yes, also previous injuries,

operation scars, and we'll
need his dental records, too.

- Of course.

Peter and I have belonged
to each other

since I was 17.

- Well, I hope we can
identify the body

as quickly as possible.

- Thank you, Superintendent.

- My officer will take
a note of your details.

- You can imagine how
desperate I've been.

- Hello?

Oh, no, we'll be
out in the open field,

wind in your hair.

Rubbish.

I think these
hippies have got a gripe.

Stupid man.

Living under the stars.

You know
absolutely nothing.

In fact, we'd all be
happy if we weren't tied to.

- Hello?

Hello?

Mrs. Fiona Jay?

- Yeah, who are you?

- I'm Detective Inspector
Kersey.

I'd like a word with you
about your husband, Louis.

Can I come in?

- Yeah.

- Thank you.

I'm just saying
that I appreciate.

- Hush Junick, hush, hush.

That's a good boy, good
boy, now lie down, lie down,

that's a good boy.

You don't mind if I carry
on with this, do you?

- No, no, please no.

- My son shoots them
for the dog, you see.

- Ah.

- It saves a bit of money.

- So, how old's your son?

- I've got two.

10 and 12 and haven't
you got it on file?

- Yes, probably, I just want
to go over a few things again

if that's all right.

- Well, go ahead.

I'm getting used to
repeating myself.

- Your husband went
missing 18 months ago, yes?

- Yeah.

- But you've seen him
since he's left?

- Once.

In Failsworth, about six weeks
after he first walked out.

- Did you speak to him?

- He didn't recognize me.

- Right?

- I tried to get
him into the car

to see a doctor.

It's awful.

- So, what sort of state
was he in mentally then?

Was he a drinker?

- Have you got children?

- No, no, I'm still single.

- Well then you won't really
understand what it's like.

No.

He wasn't a drinker.

I mean, how could he not
recognize his own children?

- What, your sons were
with you in Failsworth?

- How do you explain
to a child face to face

with their own father and
he won't even speak to them?

- Was he coherent, deluded or?

- Oh, he was managing all right.

Well, he was even quite
polite about it.

But he wouldn't let
on he knew us.

He wouldn't come home.

- Why did he leave
in the first place?

- Oh, the usual, you know,
redundancy, debt, failure,
guilt.

I just don't think he
could cope anymore.

- Did he work round here?

- No.

In London.

He was a, well, he worked
for a chartered surveyor,

but he was a Cornish
man and this house

was so that his children
could share

the same idyllic qualities
as he had.

- Lucky them, eh?

- No, they hate it.

- Have you seen him
again more recently?

- Why are you here?

Nobody's bothered us for months.

- Well, the body of
a man has been found

at Mullion Cove wash up.

Identification's been
hampered by the condition

of the body, but we need
some details from you

to establish if it might
be your husband.

Did he have any distinguishing
marks?

- I, um, I think I'm
gonna need a bit of time

to think about this.

- Operation scars, maybe?

- Well, yes, he, um,
he had a vasectomy.

- Well, that's something,
isn't it?

- He should never been
allowed to carry on like that.

He needed help, but you lot
wouldn't accept that he was ill,

that he was vulnerable.

- I'm afraid we can't force
someone to return home

if they don't want to.

- That's what the young
policewoman said.

They said that there was
nothing much you could do

if you just lost contact.

- Well, as you said
yourself, if he was managing.

- Well, he lost contact
with reality, not us.

Wait till you have children.

- We also need the dental and
any hospital records, please.

- They'll be in London.

I'll dig them out for you.

- Thank you.

- I don't want Louis to be dead.

See there's something I've
learnt since he's gone.

Do you know what people want?

More than anything else?

I mean really want?

- No.

- Just their plain
ordinary lives.

- Hi, Ma.

- What's happened, why
are you back so soon?

- We cut the sailing short.

Rob's dad managed to
waggle him a job

and he had to go.

I'm starving.

Anything to eat?

What's the matter, Ma?

Has there been some news of Pa?

- Yes.

- Well?

- It's probably nothing.

- Tell me, where is he?

- I was down at Mullion
Cove this morning.

The police have found
a man's body,

but they don't yet
know who he is.

I told them Pa was missing.

- Did you see it?

- No, no.

Oh, darling, I'm sure
there's no need to worry.

- So what happened?

- It was washed up
down by the harbor.

I'm sure Pa's all right.

Pa's always all right.

- So how about some food then?

- Bacon and eggs coming up.

- I was right about that
slight blackening on the face.

- He was shot?

Shotgun.

The X-rays show fractures
and distortions of the skull

that could be consistent
with a compact wound.

- Suicide, then.

- Not necessarily in respect
to the shot is inconclusive.

Any evidence from
the entrance wound

has been lost to decomposition.

- But the gun was fired
at close range.

- More than a couple
of feet away.

It was just an irate
farmer taking a pot shot.

Ah, there we are.

So, it's down to you to find
out whether it was suicide,

an accident or a homicide.

- Thanks.

Time of death?

- Oh, it's impossible to say.

How's your mother by the way?

- She's staying with
you, isn't she?

- Mm.

That won't be saying much of
her by the way things going.

- She and Heaven get
on well, don't they?

- Clash of the Titans.

Are we any closer to finding
out who our friend actually is?

- Well, we've got some teeth.

Not really enough to
rely solely on matching

the dental records, though?

- That's it?

- I'm afraid so.

- I better ring my mom, tell
her I'll be late home for tea.

- You here about my father?

- Detective Superintendent
Wycliffe

and Detective Inspector Lane.

You are?

- James Coryn.

Should I fetch my mother?

The police are here.

- You wait here darling.

- Why?

- Trust me.

It'll be all right.

- Ma?

Do you really think it's him?

- Just hang on in there.

You know us.

We always find a way, don't we?

- Sorry to keep you waiting.

- Detective Inspector Lane.

- I was in the greenhouse.

Funny how plants are for solace.

Do come in.

I've got all the details
you asked for.

Peter's doctor and dentist
and so forth.

- Thank you.

Mrs. Coryn, we still don't
know whether the body

we found this morning
is that of your husband,

but the cause of death
is suspicious.

- Well, he drowned surely.

- No.

There was an injury to the head.

Ms. Coryn, did
your husband own a shotgun?

- Yes, we have several.

I checked the gun cupboard
the other day.

None are missing.

- Was he depressed in any
way before he disappeared?

- No.

No.

- Any business worries?

- No more than anyone else.

- Ma.

- Paul would never kill himself.

James, you know he would
never leave you like that.

- He did have debts.

What does it matter
if people know?

You've got to tell them.

- Mrs. Coryn.

- All right.

We don't have as much
money as you might think,

but he wasn't as worried
about it as all that.

Peter's always looked after us.

Suicide is the coward's way out.

- It's possible it may
not have been suicide.

- Are you saying someone
may have killed my father?

We can't rule out any
possibility at this stage,

but the body has not
yet been identified.

- Do you know of anyone who
might have wanted to kill him?

- Of course, not,
how ridiculous.

Maybe it was an accident,
someone out shooting.

- How about in London?

- I don't know what might
go on in London.

- Well, was there any
reason why he might have

wanted to disappear?

- No.

I know what you're getting at.

The police in London
said as much.

You think he's left
me, but he hasn't.

He wouldn't do that.

- It doesn't mention
it here, Mrs. Coryn,

but I have to ask.

Did your husband
have a vasectomy?

- No.

- Right, well, thank you anyway.

- Mr. Coryn, perhaps your
father confided in you?

- No, no, I mean I'm
not usually here.

- Where were you the
day he went missing?

- At university in Exter.

- Well, perhaps if you
think of something

that might help us,
you'll let us know.

- This is all so distressing.

- You all right?

- What?

Yeah, yeah.

- Well, until the bodies
are identified,

I'd lay out Peter Coryn's
tucked up somewhere

with a female friend.

- And Mrs. Coryn doesn't
want to believe

he's walked out on her?

- Or knows he has and
is saving face.

- Yeah.

Ties in with the gossip
in the village.

- Oh, yeah?

- They say his hours never
were exactly regular.

Peter Coryn was a bit
of a chancer and had

trouble with debt.

- Oh, well, there you are then.

He's done a runner and
Mrs. Coryn's too proud

to admit it.

- Can't be much fun
for the boy, though.

- What's the problem?

- Fine, fine.

- So, what have we got to?

- Um, well Franks has confirmed

that the body had a vasectomy,
which tie in with Louis Jay.

- Common enough procedure
these days.

- Rules out Peter Coryn, then.

- Not necessarily.

If he chose not to
tell his wife,

she'd never know.

- Surely a woman would
be able to tell

if a man.

- An unfaithful man might
choose not to tell his wife

he'd had it done.

- And Dr. Franks got
the toxicology report,

so there's nothing found.

- Good.

- Yeah, I made a start
on getting hold

of dental and medical
details and on tracing

activity by our demand through
banks, building societies

and Social Security since
the day they went missing.

Nothing useful so far.

- See if you can find
out what life insurance

policies they had, especially
Peter Coryn.

- I can't find the
underwear, sir.

- Well, put everything in
a bag to Marx and Sparks

for a refund.

- Yep, without a receipt,
they'd only exchange it.

They wouldn't give
me the money back.

- Where's the list from
the mortuary assistant?

- Um, he didn't have any.

No socks or underwear.

- Well, the foot wear could
have come off in the water.

- NO personal items, either,
nothing in the pockets.

- Yeah, but why no underwear?

Doesn't sound much like
the elegant Peter Coryn.

- That's true.

- Sounds like someone
who's been living rough.

- Wait and see.

Right.

Rems of shirt, jumper,
trousers and jacket.

All tied up and filthy.

But the jacket's
quite good tweed.

It's got the label of
a Savaro tailor on it

and inked on the label on
the inside of the jacket

is a date, 1979.

- No name?

Usually there's a name as well.

- I know, but it's too
faint to read, sir.

So I rang the tailor in London.

He never heard of Louis Jay,

but Peter Coryn's a
longstanding client

and he made a jacket
for him in 1979.

- All right, you've
all been briefed.

The man is dead of
a shotgun wound,

probably in the last
month, possibly

somewhere on this shore.

I want any evidence
of such an incident

or anything else that
could be significant.

- Yes, Peter Coryn had a
vasectomy a long time ago.

- But he never told
is wife about it.

- No.

- Why is that?

- Well, Edwina had a hard
time when James was born.

Frightened the life
out of Peter.

Didn't like deceiving
her, mind you,

but he knew she'd want
another child and just

didn't fancy the odds.

- Was that the only reason?

- What do you mean?

- Well, we need to know if
Mr. Coryn deceived is wife

in any other way.

Was he unfaithful to her?

- Not to my knowledge.

- No history of sexually
transmitted disease?

- No, absolutely not.

- Do you think Mr. Coryn
the type to commit suicide?

- Oh, not, not Peter.

He was a great sport.

Never wanted to let
things get him down.

- And how were things recently
between him and Mrs. Coryn.

- Well, he wouldn't just
walk out on her.

Devoted to each other they are.

Were.

- Right.

Thank you Dr. Bonner.

What's this?

- Ah, typical Peter.

We had a bit to drink
at a yacht club dinner

and had some ludicrous
over whether the scallops

were fresh or frozen, I won.

- 20,000 pounds?

- I never cashed it, but
no doubt Peter would have

if it had gone the other way.

- A bit of a gambler was he?

- Oh, incorrigible,
bet on anything.

Money was like water to
him, just quenched a thirst.

- So he had serious debts?

- Yes.

That ancient thing.

He always wore it for gardening.

- Was he ever in the habit
of going without underwear?

- I don't know what you mean.

- It may be relevant.

- But if that's Peter's jacket.

- Dr. Bonner told us your
husband was a gambler.

- Yes.

The doctor telephoned
me by the way.

I didn't mean to mislead
you about Peter

having a vasectomy.

He never told me.

- Why didn't you tell
us about the gambling?

- It was Peter's weakness.

And illness, really.

Something private we deal
with between ourselves.

- Did he have debts?

- Oh, yes, always, even when
he won there were debts.

- Was he depressed
because of them?

- No.

Compulsive gamblers are
eternal optimists,

always dreaming of breaking
the bank at Monte Carlo.

They able simply to forget even
the most terrifying losses.

- What about you, though?

Did the losses worry you?

- No, we always came
around somehow.

I loved his innocent
excitement about life,

a world with no consequences.

Peter's a great romantic.

- You never thought
of leaving him?

- Never.

He didn't steal or cheat.

He would never let it harm us.

- Did Mr. Coryn take out any

new life insurance
policies recently?

- He had a policy obviously,
but nothing recent.

Look, can't we get all
this tied up now?

You don't have to show that
jacket to James, do you?

He's so upset.

I'd like to keep
him out of this.

- Keep him out of what?

His father's disappeared.

- I remember him having
one like this,

but I'm sure he's not
worn it in years.

- Would have worn
it for gardening?

- No, no, he hated gardening.

Pa needed more instant
gratifications.

- You're sure?

- Look, what's going on?

Is it my father you found?

- I'm sorry, James,
we still don't know.

- Do you think someone's
killed him?

- Do you know anyone
who would want to?

- Pa belonged to two
or three pretty

serious gaming clubs in London.

I had the impression
he owed them a fortune.

- Why do you think he
owed them a fortune?

- Last time I was home
there were rows

I couldn't help overhearing.

- And you think these
gaming clubs might somehow

be involved in your
father's disappearance?

- I don't know, I mean
they're in London,

no Macau or someplace.

- I think they'd want to
get their hands on this

as much as they could before
thinking about murder.

Why is Mrs.
Coryn the heading she is?

- Lunch.

- Thank you.

Oh, crab, my favorite.

- What I mean is, why
is our Mrs. Coryn

being less than straightforward
with us?

- I spoke to Peter
Coryn's accountant.

Yeah, his finances
were a nightmare.

Just before he went missing,
he wanted to raise some

cash by taking a huge
mortgage on the house,

but the accountant
advised against it.

- Any life insurance?

- Plenty.

Nothing new, no cash
to pay the premiums.

- If he had shot himself, she
might be trying to cover it up

so she can still claim
the insurance.

- And face a police
investigation?

- Yeah, but look at it
from her point of view.

Without the insurance
money, she stands to lose

the house for sure.

- If it's suicide, there'll
be no payout.

- I get the feeling she
absolutely adored him.

Yet, she's hardly the
grieving widow.

- Maybe it's all lies.

She shot him and
made the story up

about his disappearance.

- Why?

- Driven to desperation
over his gambling.

Only way to pay off the debt

was to cash in on his
life insurance.

- Yeah, no, no, why
the old jacket?

And no underwear?

And how did he end
up in the sea?

- The son said there were rows.

Maybe she just couldn't
cope any longer,

however charming he might be.

- I thought you women
liked all that?

The daredevil.

A hint of uncertainty.

- Well, as a bit on the
side, Kersey, yeah, maybe.

Not much fun if you're
financially dependent on it.

I wouldn't put myself
in that situation.

- Things getting that
serious with Simon, is it?

- Doug, the chances of me
becoming a financially dependent

housewife are as lucky as
you getting a girlfriend.

- Yeah, well, what
about Fiona Jay?

Her husband's just gone and
left her to sort out his mess.

- It's asking a lot
of a man to shoulder

all the responsibility
of a family.

- I must be getting old.

In my day, a man was expected
to take care of his family.

- Well, being taken
care of isn't

always a healthy option, sir.

If their finances
were in his name,

how long before Mrs. Jay
could get herself sorted out?

- Way, you'd have to
missing for seven years

before they could have
him declared dead.

- Definitely separate bank
accounts for you and Simon.

- Salt and vinegar?

- I don't that in muck on it.

Stupid cow.

- Fiona Jay?

- Yes.

- Detective Superintendent
Wycliffe.

- Oh.

I think you better come
round the back.

Is it him?

Have they identified the body?

- No, not yet I'm afraid.

I'm hoping to know by tomorrow

once the pathologist has
got all the dental records.

Not the easiest of jobs, huh?

- I'm lucky to have anything.

God knows what I'll do
when the car parks up.

- You can't move from here?

- I'd love to.

- My family and friends
are in London.

You're not from around
here, are you?

- No.

But I like it, though.

- You're lucky.

- Why don't you move
near your family?

- I can't sell.

The cottage is our joint names,

the house in London, too.

We had a buyer for that,
but I couldn't sell,

it was repossessed.

- No insurance or
anything you can draw on?

- Have you got insurance
against having

your life kicked out
from under you?

- It must time shoring
when you're furious

about what it is that your
husband put you through.

- Sometimes I just think
how wonderful it must be

to do what he did.

You know, just walk out, let go.

Something in me clings on.

Sometimes I wonder just
what it is I cling on to.

- You own a shotgun, Mrs. Jay?

I bet if your son
shoots rabbits.

- Yes, I mean the dog
really ought to be put down,

but I can't afford a vet
and I haven't got the bottle

as my son says to do it myself.

- It's not an easy thing
destroying the family pet.

- No.

- Mrs. Jay, the man whose
body we found yesterday

died from a shotgun
wound to the head.

- Oh.

Louis was ill.

- Do you think he, do
you think he could

have shot himself?

- My sons blame me.

They think that I should
have stopped him from going

and I should have
talked him round

and I should have helped him.

- Do you think that's true?

- We were a family.

We shared things out, you see.

And that's what a marriage
is about, isn't it?

I did my bit.

- But he wouldn't share
the bad times.

- Couldn't or wouldn't.

There's not anymore to say.

It's over now.

- Would you mind keeping
back please.

- My house is just over there.

I used to come here for
picnics when I was a kid.

- Just stay here, please.

- Can I have a look.

- Sir, if you just stay here.

- What have you found?

So you know Louis Jay

- Yes, I know Louis Jay.

- When was he last here?

- Six weeks or more.

He turns up every
couple of months,

but his wife's been here
asking about him

with a photograph.

- When was that?

- About a month ago.

- How would you describe
his mental state?

- Oh, he's fairly
placid, no bother.

Seemed happy enough to be
left in a world of his own.

- Did he know who he was?

- It's not always an easy
question for some of our
regulars.

And they know who they
think they are.

And so long as they don't
kick up a fuss,

we tend to give them the
benefit of the doubt.

- Excuse me?

Where do these clothes
actually come from?

- There's a couple of
local charity shops

hand things on that don't sell.

- Do you know if Louis Jay
got a change of jacket here?

- Yes, I do actually.

He was doing a complete
change of clothes.

- Why?

- His own were filthy.

He'd obviously been sleeping
out in them for weeks.

- Underwear?

- Doubt it.

We occasionally get given
some by the local shops,

but there's never enough
to go around.

- So he might not have had any?

- Probably not.

- I think I love you.

Yes!

- I know you're probably.

- My father died
here, didn't he?

- I saw a man dead, but
there's no evidence yet

to say that it was your father.

It's not easy, is it?

Knowing that your father can
just go away and leave you?

- I really love my father.

- Of course.

- But I can't buy into his
fantasies like Ma does.

I think his gambling's pathetic.

- Your mother encourages it?

- She's worse than he is.

Pretends life's some
kind of game.

- What makes you say that?

- I heard them when
they were rowing.

She was telling him to go
for the last big throw.

- What did she mean?

- I don't know.

But something terrible's
happened hasn't it?

I'm not stupid.

If he'd have shot himself,

you would have found
the gun here.

And how comes he ended
up in the sea

when there's blood
all over the hut?

- We'll find out what
went on here,

don't worry about that.

My father died when I was nine.

Shot himself with a 12-bar.

I know exactly what happened
to my father.

Sometimes I wish I didn't,

but not knowing must be
very hard to live with.

- Sir, Edwina Coryn gave it
to her local charity shop

some months ago and they
passed it on to a hostel

in Truro, where guess what?

Six weeks ago Louis Jay
received a change of clothes.

- All right, let's go
talk to Mrs. Jay then.

- I don't think she
killed him, do you?

- Well, someone took
the gun away.

Hey, is your mom in?

Keep them out here, Doug.

- Come on then.

Come on.

Hey, hey, hey.

Let them go on with
it, shall we eh?

Well, you're getting
goals, come on.

Go on, down there.

- Do you recognize
the jacket at all?

Your husband was wearing
it, wasn't he,

the last time you saw him?

- I was gonna kill
his dog, you see.

He can hardly walk and
he's in terrible pain,

but I just couldn't do it.

And well, anyway it's Louis' dog

and I shouldn't have
had to do it.

- How did you know
where to find him?

- One of the men in
the hostel told me.

They said that he had a hut.

So you went there.

- Yeah.

Why?

- I wanted to persuade
him to come home

and to go into hospital.

God, he was filthy.

Neglected.

- He wouldn't go with you?

- No.

- Did he know who you were?

- It was weird, he
knew who he was.

He knew he had a family and
that he's walked out on them.

He didn't know who I was.

- When was this?

- About 12 days ago.

After I dropped the
children off in the morning.

You were angry that he
hadn't recognize you,

that he wouldn't go with you?

- He showed me where he
slept, how he'd made a fire,

where he got water
from the well.

Happy as Larry he was.

- And so you just snapped?

- He left me with the
responsibility for his boys,

the dog, this property,
his debts.

Our bank accounts, it's frozen.

I don't know whether
I'm married,

whether I'm widowed.

I've been to hell and
back and he's showing me

his Boy Scout camp?

- And where was the shotgun
at this point?

- It was in the boot of the car.

The poor dog was there, too.

- Mrs. Jay, I must
caution you that

you do not have to say anything.

But it may harm your defense.

- So, do you get
to go really fast

in the blues and twos
and everything?

- No, not often, no.

Been in a couple of
dodgy car chases, though.

- It is Dad they
found, isn't it?

- Well, we still don't
know for sure.

- Why not?

- So you left your
husband at the hut

and then went to
fetch the weapon.

- I couldn't go on anymore.

I mean there had to
be some end to it.

If he didn't want
his life anymore,

why not just finish it properly.

- So then you went back to
the hut carrying the weapon.

Did you intend to
shoot him with it?

- No.

But I as good as murdered
him, didn't I?

- You handed him the
loaded weapon.

- I put it down by the door.

I told him that if he
cared anything about us,

he'd use it and put it
out of our misery.

He knew what I was
talking about.

- And then?

- I drove away.

Why should I be the only one

that has to cope
with everything?

I mean, he can just wander
off and not care about us,

but I have to go
on day after day.

I couldn't do it anymore.

- So when did you
decide to go back?

- Well, I stopped the car
and I calmed myself down

and started to think
more clearly.

I rushed back, but.

- He'd done what you'd
asked him to do?

- Yes.

- Why didn't you
report the death?

- Alex and Richie.

I couldn't see them
turn against me

for what I had done.

I mean if I lose them,
then there's nothing.

- They're gonna have
to be told, you know.

- I know.

I hope they'll forgive me.

- So you dragged the
body into the water.

- I got him down to the shore

and then managed to
get him to float.

The tide was going out.

I took the gun home, cleaned it,

put it back in the cupboard.

I got the blood from my clothes,

then I did what I always do.

Don't think, don't feel,
just get on with it.

- And when we found the body.

- I knew it was him
straightaway.

At that time I thought if you
couldn't identify the body,

then I'd succeeded, but
now, now I feel that

there's a chance, just
a chance that I can

get on with my life.

- Dr. Franks just phoned.

He's got a positive
match on a dental X-ray

of a row of four upper
teeth that I got

from a teaching hospital
in London.

Anyway, together with the
vasectomy and the blood group,

Dr. Frank says he's happy to
go with it being Louis Jay.

- Okay, thanks.

- Well, are we finished
here then boss?

- No, no, not entirely.

Sergeant Dixon can take
Mrs. Jay to HQ.

You're the WPC.

Doug, you better get
the boys taken care of

and you better stay here Potter,

start cleaning up a bit.

- Oh, Doug.

- Yes, sir.

- Just remember, whatever
you tell them

about their father's death,

they're gonna remember
it word for word

for the rest of their lives.

- Yes, sir.

- I really don't understand
what all this is about.

The body you found is
not that of my husband?

- No.

- Thank God.

- But your husband
is still missing.

- Well, obviously.

- Why did the claim
the body at the cove

when you knew very well
it wasn't your husband?

- That's ridiculous,
how could I know?

- Because you know where he is.

- I haven't seen
or heard from him

since the day he disappeared.

- He's not with another woman?

- No.

He's been missing
for over a month.

You've done nothing to find him.

- Nor have you?

I've been out combing every path

he may have taken.

I've checked the shotguns
to see if they've been used.

You couldn't care less.

- Why did you lie about
your husband's old jacket

when you'd taken it to the
charity shop sometime before?

- I forgot that I'd given
it away, that's all.

What is this?

Are you trying to set
James against me?

- I think that may have
happened already.

- Ma, if you know where
he is, tell me.

- I told you not to worry
about him, didn't I.

- Mrs. Coryn, your son
is terrified that you may

have had a hand in
his father's death.

- Oh, James, no.

We only did it for you.

I never thought.

- Where's Peter Coryn?

- How could you think
I would harm Peter?

Surely you know I would
never do that?

- Mrs. Coryn, where's
your husband now?

- Durban, South Africa.

- Alive and well?

- Yes, of course.

My darling, Peter.

- Why?

- The debts were going
to wipe out the house.

Pa couldn't bear to think
that you wouldn't inherit it

because of his illness.

- But you know I don't
care about the house.

- Your father went missing
deliberately

helped by your mother.

- It was the only way out.

One last gamble.

- Why didn't you tell me?

- I was going to darling,
as soon as he was safe.

- So you said it
was Peter's body

so you could claim
the life insurance.

Yes, suddenly we were in trumps.

I had the body that no
one was looking for,

that couldn't be identified.

I didn't expect you home.

I thought there would be time.

If Pa was declared dead,
then you and I could go

straight to Durban without
harassing any suspicion.

- But you let me think
that was him

washed up like that.

- Yes, but darling, it
was only for a day or so.

I never thought I'd
miss him so much.

- Just what sort of a game
do you think you're playing?

- Surely, you can see
that it was worth a try.

Will I be charged
against anything?

- Well, we could bring charges
of wasting police time.

- Oh, well.

You can phone Pa and
talk to him now.

No real harm done here.

- I'm not so sure about that.