All language subtitles for Grantchester - 06x03 - Episode 3.STV.WEB-DL.BTN.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Leonard Finch?

If you could follow me.

Just Mr Finch.

It's gonna be fine.

A serious allegation has been made
that, on Friday 29 August

at approximately 10:15pm,

you were seen engaging in an act
of gross indecency with another man

at the Merries Holiday Camp.

Did you attend Merries dance hall
on the evening in question?

You know that I...

Yes.

Did you leave the hall
around ten to ten,

- then go back to your own chalet?
- I can't quite recall the time.

Did you, in fact, meet a man,
then spend the night with him?

I can't... quite recall...

No.

Well, yes.

I-I mean to say, I did meet
Mr Davenport. We shared a room.

Twin beds. He came back later.

This is you, correct?

So, who's this fella?

Oh, erm...

I'm not really... Really not sure.

You seem very familiar with him.

Are you a homosexual, Mr Finch?

I have nothing more to say.

You told me I'm not obliged
to say anything.

What about Daniel Marlowe?
Photographer from your village.

Allegation's it's him
you were in bed with.

- So he's bent an' all?
- All right.

I have nothing more to say.

We're gonna have to do this
the hard way, then.

Thank you, Leonard. That's all for now.

- Leonard.
- I'm a fool.

You're no fool.

One who thought for a minute
he was in paradise,

when he was really
paving the road to hell.

Daniel said, "Don't give them
anything," and that's what you did.

I'm going for a cinnamon bun,
a hot cocoa

and a stroll on Midsummer Common.
In that order.

- We've got an appointment.
- No, I don't think so.

Give my best to the Archdeacon,

but his feelings on the matter
are very clear.

And I've had all
the incandescent disappointment

I can take from Mrs C.

Good morning, Mr Lowell!

Dahlias are looking lovely this year.

- Oh, thank you.
- Have you a minute to talk?

Might I give you one of these?

Hey!

Damn you! So much for a fair
and democratic competition.

Morning, Reeny. Well, you'd think
it was a race to the bottom,

- not to parish council.
- It's hard.

Derek's death seems to have
galvanised his critics.

Your husband would be proud
to see you follow in his footsteps.

Well, it is getting lively,
for a village by-election.

I find it rather encouraging
to see people throw their energy

into local politics.

And when the competition do it,
you know you've got them on the run!

It's like I always say:
capital begets capital and...

Reverend! Come and hear the word!

And what word is that, Mr St Martin?

Maurice, please.

The word is morality.
Your area of expertise, no?

The way I see it, each generation
has its great struggle.

And if the last one's was
a literal fight for their lives

against a foreign evil, then ours
is with the evil in our own hearts,

the everyday morality.

I couldn't agree more.

And do you think, Vicar,
that morality has its part to play

in local government?

I think it has a part to play
in every aspect of our lives.

Exactly. The council has a moral
duty to help local businesses!

Shouldn't my cousin Phillip have
the right to build on his own land,

without waiting months for permission?

Can't Mrs Bedwell be allowed to sell
Christmas trees from her shop?

As a businessman, I know that
we thrive on entrepreneurship.

And that is why the next council
must cut the red tape

and let loose that great British
enterprising spirit!

- That's it for now. Thank you all!
- Reverend.

I can understand if you have
reservations about me,

our paths having rarely crossed.

But I hope you can see
we're cut from the same cloth.

I really must remain impartial.

Of course! But there is the more, er,

delicate matter of our dear
departed chairman, Derek McArthur.

You were there, I gather?

When they fished him out of the water.

To commit suicide
does make you wonder if he wasn't...

capable of committing other things.

Could be the tip of the iceberg.

Hmm, or idle gossip.

Muck raking for publicity,
if I were being harsh.

We need strong leadership, Vicar.
Every flock needs its shepherd.

Come along, Maurice.
Busy schedule today, eh?

Good to see you both talking.

Hm.

- Where's Leonard?
- Er, he's just in town.

- They kept him in?
- No, no, he had a prior engagement.

A prior engagement?!

I see Reeny called.

As if I have time to natter away
with every Tom, Dick and Harry

that comes calling.

I thought you and Jack
liked the McArthurs?

Drumming up support
in her mourning clothes.

It's wanton luridness!

It's hardly the dance
of the Seven Veils.

And anyone who can win
a lovely legs competition

is in no position to judge.

Reeny's certainly a progressive thinker.

Taking a reformist stance.

Liberal views on tolerance.

And look where that gets you.

You're angry because of Leonard.

I'd put more stock
in that St Martin chap.

Get us back to proper family values.

I'm pretty sure Maurice's moral compass

points whichever way the wind blows.

Oh, smarten yourself up
before the Archdeacon arrives!

Not your first time
in here, then, Mr Marlowe.

No.

Questioned about a dead teenager.

Nudey photos and a poisoning.

And?

On the evening in question,
did you join Mr Finch in his chalet?

No.

Did you engage in gross indecency
with Mr Finch?

No. That's absurd.

Where were you that evening
at quarter past ten?

I went out to the main hall
from about seven,

danced with the Inspector's wife,

and I was back in my own chalet by ten.

I slept through to dawn.

Have you ever seen Mr Finch
with another man?

No.

But I'm only an acquaintance.

Who went on holiday with him.

I went on holiday with my friend
Reverend Davenport.

And the Chapmans, who I've known
since I photographed their wedding.

Well, we'll be in touch
if we have any more questions.

Mm-hm?

You forgot your lunch, love.

- You left in a bit of a hurry.
- Thank you.

You had a right face on this morning.

In fact, you still have.

Leonard's gonna be OK, isn't he?

Well, Larry's got the bit
between his teeth on this one.

Thinks I'm a soft touch.

Of all the things
the police could be doing.

- It's barely a crime!
- Except it is, Cathy.

And I have sent men down for it.

We all knew of Mr Finch's...

peculiarities.

But there's knowing what he is...

...and allowing him to act upon it.

I had hoped that you would
have guided him away

from such temptations.

Don't we have a duty to save people
from living a lie?

This situation has gone too far.
And too public.

If these allegations
are proved to be true,

then the church cannot defend him.

- Whose business is it...?
- What do you hope to achieve, William?

You really want to bang this drum,
wearing that collar,

and publicly challenge
the law of the land?

I understand if you cannot speak up.

- But I am...
- You have a role to play here,

in Grantchester.

If you wish to remain
part of this ministry,

you will cooperate with the police.

Tell them the truth.

The church is not above the law.

How did it go with the Archdeacon?

- Ahh... fine.
- Really?

- He's, er... he's concerned.
- Am I out?

- I'm out, aren't I?
- No!

No, this is all gonna blow over
and then everything will be fine.

- Was he angry at my absence?
- Leonard, it's gonna be OK.

Will, could I have a word, please?

This arrived for Derek today.
It's from a property firm in Hove.

Confirming acceptance on Derek's
purchase of some holiday home.

Well, I don't follow.

Why would he secretly organise this

if he knew he was going to...
end his own life?

People in his situation
often do contradictory things.

I understand that. But that's not Derek.

I never really believed him capable
of what he did.

I had to accept it, but... now this.

This wasn't suicide, Will.

It was murder.

It's an open and shut case:

Derek McArthur drowned himself here
a few weeks back.

He left that note on the bank,
inside his jacket pocket.

Happily married,
chairman of the council,

well respected in the village.

- It just doesn't add up.
- Or maybe it does.

Sometimes, it's just a man
who ran out of rope.

And another man trying to distract
himself from his curate's crimes.

Maybe.

Why didn't you come to me about Leonard?

I thought I had it under control.

- Well, you didn't.
- And what would you have done?

- Intimidated Bryan?
- Blackmail is an offence, Will.

We could've had this Bryan fella in
for that.

Instead, I'm having to grill
bloody Leonard!

Whose explanation is wafer thin,

and one wrong word
from another witness...

A charge will mean a trial.

Where all this is laid bare.

Why does the law care
what he does in private?

He was happy and in love.
We have to fight for that.

You're not that bloody naive.

The only fight left is for you
to come in and say you knew nothing.

Or better yet... give him an alibi.

Oh, right. Yeah, lie under oath

to hide Leonard from a stupid,
outdated law.

I can't do that, Geordie. It goes
against everything I believe in.

You tell the truth, and he's done for.

As I said to your officers before,
it's Derek's handwriting,

- without a doubt.
- Mm-hm.

Was he always so pithy?

Not judging by some of the annual
parish meetings.

It was one of the oddities
about his death.

He wrote tirelessly to constituents
and on council matters

- ever since his war days.
- Is that where you met? In the war?

Have you heard of Operation Mincemeat?

We managed to fool the Germans
into thinking

we were going to invade the Balkans
using just a dead tramp,

an officer's uniform
and some faked papers.

- Did he have any enemies?
- Derek had an ability to be liked.

Even when he wasn't always
easy to live with.

Sorry, didn't realise you had company.

Oh, Robert, come in.
Robert Waterhouse is an old friend.

Will's kindly asked Inspector
Keating to look into Derek's death.

Ah, you knew Derek well?

In our youth... and these last
few weeks after coming to visit.

Erm, I was basing a character on him.

I'm an author. It was for my next novel.

All feels very inappropriate now.

I've been able to lean on him
for help with the election.

Well, hardly.

I hand out leaflets,
she's the one being righteous

and brilliant and changing the world.

D'you think Derek was capable
of taking his own life?

Inspector, I imagine you and I
both spend a lot of time

trying to get into other people's heads.

Lining up the plots.

But truthfully,
I don't think anyone really knows

what goes on inside another man's mind.

You said he wrote tirelessly
to his constituents.

Could we see any of the letters?

I mean who files carbon copies
of their correspondence?

Who files their correspondence?

Well, haven't found any evidence
of a falling out,

but if I read one more complaint

about traffic measures
in the high street...

So, there's a chain of letters here

relating to a drainage issue
in a property down by the Cam.

A Mr Eric Pritchard
getting rather tetchy.

I'll raise you an Elsie Bedwell,
moaning about the bleating sheep.

In this last letter, Derek
shuts down Pritchard's complaint

by saying, "I'm sorry.
There's nothing more to be done."

It's the same words
from the suicide note.

- Handwriting's a match as well.
- It's the exact same letter.

It's not a suicide note. It never was.

Derek sends this to Eric Pritchard...

Who cuts out this particular phrase,

- slips it into Derek's pocket...
- And pushes him in the water.

I thought this place was empty.

Mrs C said the owner moved on years ago.

Mr Pritchard?

No big pile of post.

Someone had to be coming here
to collect Derek's letters.

The someone who started
a correspondence with him,

to elicit a letter that sounded
like a suicide note.

- All sounds a bit elaborate.
- It's murder, Geordie.

By someone who knew Derek.
Knew this place was empty.

It's someone in the village.

Do a few common factors
underpin all good fiction?

A hero's quest, a decisive crisis...

a changed status quo?

Well, I like to think
it's not the universal,

but more the personal stories
that really chime the strongest.

Hello, Will... Inspector.

I'm guessing you're not here
for the book club.

Er, we're just checking on
some parish business.

Oh, of course.

Oh, bloody hell,

they'll have you
in the village stocks for this.

All the minutes from the last 12 months.

If Derek caused any grievances
at the council, it'll be here.

It's quite the cast of characters
you have here, Reverend.

Well, I get the feeling

we're all gonna be
in one of your books one day.

- Well, I promise I'll be kind.
- Er, did I sense some, er,

reluctance from Reeny
when I called earlier?

I think she'd hoped
you'd look into it discretely.

A policeman calls on a candidate
two days before a vote.

Ah. I was, er... I was just trying
to do the right thing.

Oh, and you did!
Inaction would be far worse.

Here we go. Give us a minute,
would you, Mr Waterhouse?

Planning applications this year.

Denied three times.
All made by Phillip St Martin.

Maurice St Martin's cousin.
Lot of money lost out on.

It's like you said:
it's someone who knew Derek

and knows this village.

So, what do you say, Phillip?

Must have been frustrating

that Derek was blocking
your planning applications.

Extremely.

It's no secret that Derek and I
never saw eye-to-eye.

How so?

I believe in investing
in local businesses

and letting us get on with it.
Derek didn't.

But if you're suggesting

that his death was
in some way suspicious...

I am.

Look, Derek could be a pain,

but councillors come and go
every few years.

I'm a patient man. Truth is,
I found a much better revenge.

- And what's that?
- Maurice.

Running for office.

Can you think of a more perfect
grenade to roll into the council?

I was with my husband in the main hall.

We attended the dance
and stayed for a drink.

Did you see Mr Finch
leave the dance hall?

No, I did not.

Oh, so you didn't see
if Mr Marlowe left with Mr Finch?

- No, I did not.
- So, would it be fair to say that

as far as you're aware, Mr Finch
went back to his chalet alone?

"The integrity of the upright
guides them,

"but the unfaithful are destroyed
by their duplicity."

Have you ever seen Mr Finch
show affection for another man?

Mrs Chapman?

- No.
- What did you see, Mrs Chapman?

You wouldn't want to pervert
the course of justice now.

- I don't think Mrs...
- No.

Or obstruct our investigation.

- No!
- So, what did you see?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Leonard...

Hang on!
Right... what do you think of this?

"The views and attitudes that shaped us

"may not shape the next generation.

"But perhaps nor will the prejudices
we wrestle with today.

"We are a community,
and a community only works

"when it carries everyone
along with it."

It's very... political, for a sermon.

Well, I was thinking
of speaking at the hustings.

Accentuate the positives
of a progressive candidate.

You might find that church and state
are kept at a distance for a reason.

Never underestimate public opinion.

I've been thinking about
going back to the police.

Present them with a reasonable story,

about Daniel and I being seen
innocently together.

Lying is not the answer to this.

But what is? I have the sword
of Damocles hanging over me.

Come to the hustings!

It'll take your mind off any
sharp objects floating above you.

Hm?

What happened?

Look, I understand that you're angry.

I'm not angry.

You wish things were back
the way they were. Before you knew.

Pandora's box is open.

Leonard is still Leonard.
His life is not a sin.

And that's the view
of the Archdeacon, too, is it?

When he said you're out
as well if you defend him?

You listened in?

Course I bloody did!

He's part of your flock.
And you let him stray.

- I let him be himself.
- Oh, and look where that's got us!

You're the shepherd.

And you stood by and let us all
wallow in his sins.

Oh, don't be such a bigot!

- I will not be spoken to like that.
- Mrs C!

Stupid boy!

Oh, please tell me you've come
to make an exonerating statement.

I can't do that, Geordie.

Well, Mrs C was hardly a star witness,

and now you're gonna tell the truth,

even if you damn Leonard
and lose your job.

I don't know. I feel impotent.

Have you tried oysters?

What are you gonna do?

Maurice St Martin, let's bring him in.

Some new evidence come to light?

I've asked around. He's a hustler.

Underhanded tactics...
er, bribery, sabotage,

devaluing the land,
forcing the owners to undersell.

So, basically, you want me
to haul someone in you don't like,

based on some village gossip?

Oh, fine, Geordie, it's clearly not
worth wasting your time pursuing.

Easy! That's not what I'm saying.

In fact, I've already asked
Miss Scott...

The St Martin files and the
McArthur files, from the archive.

Thank you, Miss Scott.

Forget God.
You want an all-seeing presence,

she's in a wiggle dress on desk seven.

What is it?

Five years back, Reeny
sustained some nasty injuries

after an incident at her home.

- What happened?
- There's nothing.

There's no charges, but it reads
more like a fight than a fall.

So, what... Derek beats her
and they shushed it up?

Reeny mentioned he wasn't
always easy to live with.

So, after years of suffering in silence,

the wife knocks off her abusive husband?

Believe me, that is
the most likely motive so far.

I'll leave you to it.

Reeny, er, we... we need to ask you
a few more questions about Derek.

Did he have a temper?

Ever struggle with
his anger boiling over?

- He could get worked up.
- And was that ever aimed at you?

What started as a happy marriage
didn't always stay that way.

Whose does?

But, erm, we did good work together.

A few years back,
there was a domestic incident here.

Police were called.

It's not exactly "good work"
from the sounds of it.

Yes. There were violent moments.

And, yes...

...I won't lie, the thought
of killing him did cross my mind.

But he wasn't an evil man.
He was... haunted, perhaps.

Tricking the Germans might seem clever,

but truthfully, war is
one awful choice after another.

For Derek, it was picking the men
who never came back.

You don't have to defend a violent man.

People should know the truth about him.

Really?

I'm being judged because he died.

Because of how he died.

Because of everything except who I am.

I don't need to give the world
more of Derek.

I wanted him to retire.
I didn't want to kill him.

Do you really think
I would have come to you,

questioning his suicide, if I had?

Someone like Reeny as a chairwoman
might take up Leonard's fight.

If it comes to that.

You do not want it to come to that.

At some point,
bad laws need to be overturned.

People like Maurice
are holding this world back.

People like Reeny...

I wouldn't pin all
your hopes on her, Will.

- Well, I have to pin them somewhere.
- No, you don't!

What you have to do
is give Leonard an alibi.

Geordie!

Do you think I like asking?

Jesus Christ, Will,
there's cracks in Leonard's story.

Larry's been on the phone to the
Merries staff for more statements.

- If one person saw something else...
- I can fix this.

Just come to the station and tell us
Bryan Stanford was mistaken...

...because Leonard was in that bloody
twin bed across from you.

Hey!

Then all this goes away.

And that is how I know

that the growing number of passing
motor vehicles is a concern.

And I know that the lack
of a telephone line

in Spring Lane is a concern.

I know these things

because I live amongst you
and have done all my life.

I know Grantchester,

and I want to serve it as best I can.

Thank you.

Thank you, Mrs McArthur.

Mr St Martin, would you like to respond?

Oh, yes.

Derek McArthur served as chairman
to the council for many years.

Mrs McArthur by his side.
His suicide is tragic.

But it does beg a question.

What was he so sacred of?

Was there something rotten
in Grantchester?

Perhaps Mrs McArthur can help us,

since she's been seen
talking to the police.

Perhaps you would care to comment
on the accusation of gross indecency

levelled at our very own church curate?

- Hey!
- Bloody hell.

Reeny!

This is utter...

I-I have no idea what allegations
you're talking about.

Really? Only a policeman
calls on you yesterday and today,

and the curate fella's been
down the station, too.

I mean, it's plain deviancy
here on our own doorstep!

To think that the unnatural
can take up home amongst us.

I ask, do you want a council
that's just a soft touch,

or do you want one that takes
a stand against the corruption

that threatens our traditional,
British way of life?!

That's enough!

Bloody hell.

You dare to throw these accusations
out here, for public trial?

This isn't
a cheap game for scoring points.

You're toying with someone's else life!

You're-you're pouring poison
in people's ears and for what?

For a few bloody votes!

And what exactly are you peddling,
Reverend?

Milk and honey for poofs and communists!

Order, please!

- Steady on!
- This man should be disqualified!

All right! All right!

Everyone just needs to calm down...
and go home.

Leonard!

Leonard, I am... I am so, so sorry.

- What... what was said?
- Well, you heard the crux of it.

And, er, Maurice only had
the allegation.

The village?

Mixed.

And, er, I'm sorry I, er, spoke up.

That speech you were writing?

Er, a little more
off-the-cuff, in the end.

That's...

OK?

Well, I, erm... hit a table.

It all got a little bit rowdy.

Ah. Sounds very Jesus in the temple.

People won't care.

How can I stand in front of
our congregation again?

Walk into a... a post office. I ran!

I ran out and I didn't... defend myself.

I did! And Reeny will, I'm-I'm sure.

And the Archdeacon will be happy
with that, will he?

I would hate more than anything
for my mistakes to cost you this...

...your vocation.

Please, Will.

I wouldn't be able to look myself
in the mirror

if I didn't say something.

You are a... wonderful idiot sometimes.

Hello?

Oh, sorry. The door was open,
and nobody answered.

No, I'm up, I am. Come in.

- I can come back?
- No, it's fine, I was just, erm...

I can't pretend I'm not disappointed.

In me?

Uh... I was a little taken aback.
The whole village was.

Allegations about Derek,
accusations of Leonard.

Leonard is a good man.
We are so lucky to have him.

Damn anyone who thinks differently.

And what a world it would be
if everyone felt the same.

But you can't rock the boat
if they push you out of it.

Another surprise delivery.

Well, will you look who it is?

The only man who can turn
a parish election into a fist fight.

- Jesus would be proud.
- Jesus never met Maurice St Martin.

How did he know about Leonard?

I don't know, but I'm gonna find out.

- Reeny received this today.
- Hm?

And "this" is what?

Some sort of surveillance?

Someone's made timings
of the comings and goings

from the St Martin warehouse.

There's about two weeks' worth
there, starting two months ago.

Who's it from?

Well, there's a covering letter
from a private detective

that Derek hired. But there's
no address or number given.

This last entry says,
"Observation is suspended...

"to avoid suspicion."

Derek was spying on Maurice?

No-one's in.

Well, that private detective must
have been watching from somewhere.

Here's your surveillance post.

A clear view of them,
but hard for them to see you.

No ash in the ashtray.
Only cigarette butts.

So? Must be on the floor.

Can't see any.

This how you win over all your
potential voters, is it, Maurice?

I see exactly what your game is.
This is a vendetta.

A vendetta?

He doesn't like it
that I'm a hair's breadth

from the parish council,
so, last day of the campaign,

he's fitting me up
for whatever happened to Derek.

He's the one you should arrest,
for sheltering a homosexual.

Who told you there were allegations
about Leonard Finch?

I've got little birds everywhere.

At a guess, some cop got
loose-lipped at the Lodge.

So, why'd you make a run for it
at the shed?

Because when I find people
nosing around my property

with a pair of binoculars
and I've done nothing wrong,

I figure it's a stitch-up.

You know, you love
to play the victim, don't you?

"Poor Maurice,
picked on by the leftie vicar."

Must wind you up something rotten,

people preferring the vision
I'm selling to yours.

You're pretty close to your cousin
Phillip, aren't you?

It's gotta be a pain his plans keep
getting squashed by the council.

Rumour has it, you've a habit
of sabotaging land sales

and then swooping in
to buy them up cheap.

Derek McArthur got wise
to your intentions

and sent a private detective
to keep watch.

And when you found out, you got angry...

...followed Derek...

and pushed him into the Cam.

That's... That's what you've got?

Oh, bloody hell.

You're right about one thing.
I do know how to get a good deal.

Which is why I'd been helping Derek
buy a house down in Hove.

Now, why would I kill a man I was
about to make a commission off?

Ah, there's something not right
about this surveillance operation.

- The ashtray's bothering me.
- Come again?

This private detective smoking away,
watching the St Martin's place,

but...

...there's no ash.

Why?

Well, I dunno, maybe he knocked it over?

So why not bin the lot?
Why just put the stubs back?

Erm, to make it look like someone
had spent some time there?

And why would someone want you
to believe that?

We've got a few crumbs of evidence,
and...

I want to believe they point
back to Maurice, but...

the ash tray?
The anonymous private detective?

The notebook?

They're like the components
of an elaborate story.

And who do we know
who likes to tell stories?

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Will. Inspector. Everything all right?

We've just been on the phone
to your publisher,

who was very keen to point out
the military accuracy in your books

is because of your own experiences.

Of course. Robert and I were both
in military intelligence.

With Derek.

What's this about?

You once told me that we both
spend time lining up evidence,

to... to make sense of a crime.

How about we head down the station
and have a go now?

You wrote to Derek
under the guise of "Eric Pritchard"

to elicit a response
that looked like a suicide note.

You then met him at the Cam
and you pushed him in.

You should take up writing novels
yourself, Inspector.

But then Reeny asked me to look into it.

Because Derek had made retirement
plans you had no idea about.

But then she became a suspect herself,

and you had to move the focus elsewhere.

And who was I most set against?

Cue a hastily-faked observation post
at the St Martin's place,

to imply that Derek had hired
a private investigator.

Now it looks like Maurice has
found out Derek was spying on him,

which gives him a motive for revenge.

It's all very... Operation Mincemeat.

Well, it's fascinating. Really.

But you're starting
from a false premise:

what possible motive would I have
for wanting to kill an old friend?

"They sat in that cafe, as people
came and went about their business.

"Just a tablecloth apart, but he saw
now that a world lay between them.

"A continent of things unsaid.
Regrets piled up like mountains."

"She would know nothing of this
world and that terrible loss,

"he knew, was of his own making."

They say you write what you know...

...and you've been in love
with Reeny McArthur for 20 years.

"Righteous and brilliant...

"and changing the world."

She burned with life.

I was so in awe... I could never
find the words to tell her.

It's ironic, really.

She married Derek
while I was posted away.

I didn't come back. Not for a long time.

But when I did...

...her fire had...

dimmed.

Oh, give over, Mr Waterhouse.

You're not the first man to miss
the boat with a pretty girl.

That bastard beat her!

He got her and he broke her!

But you would have made her happy?

I worshipped her.
No-one could've made her happier.

I couldn't stand by and do nothing.

Real knight in shining armour.

If I didn't intervene...

You murdered her husband in cold blood.

How very gallant of you.

I think he really did just want to help.

How dare he.

How dare he make it his job
to "save me"!

I'm so sorry.

I've lost my husband
and now my best friend.

In no time at all.

- Voting day, Iris.
- Afternoon, Reeny.

Come along, now.

After you.

- Apologies, after you.
- It's quite all right, I'm just, er,

popping out for a minute.

- Good day?
- Fine.

Well, er, had better.

I'm sorry I called you a...
I'm sorry for what I said.

- Lie to them.
- What?

Please. I can't lose my boy.

Hello, Will.

I've come to give my
statement to Geordie.

You, too? He's in with Mr Finch.

Leonard's here?

So... what is it you'd like to say?

"To thine own self be true."

Isn't that how it goes?

The allegation made by Bryan Stanford...

it's true.

He was not lying about seeing me...

...in bed with another man.

- Leonard...
- Bloody hell.

Why are you telling us this now?

Because it's the truth, Inspector.

- Was this other man Daniel Marlowe?
- No. A stranger.

I don't recall a name.
Just a holiday romance.

Then I must charge you with
the crime of gross indecency...

...committed at the Merries Holiday Camp

on 29 August this year.

DC Peters will now escort you
through the charging process.

You're not obliged to say anything
unless you wish to do so.

But what you say
will be taken down in writing

and may be given in evidence.

For your own safety,
and in view of the late hour,

you'll stay here overnight

and be taken to the magistrates
in the morning.

Sync & corrections by emeline-whovian
www.addic7ed.com