All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S01E02 - Written in Blood

(gentle music)

(birds chirping)

(coughing)

- Liam.

Liam?

What are you doing with that?

Liam?

Liam?

Liam?

(gun fires)

(soft music)

- Bye, Mr. Hadleigh!

Have a nice evening, then.

- Phoenix turned and fired twice,

the 34 millimetre bullets
spitting through the air

and splintering the brickwork
two inches to the left

of the Russian thug's shoulder.

A moment later came the reply
of the Uzi semiautomatic

and Phoenix twisted round.

Mrs. Bundy?

Mrs. Bundy?

- [Laura] Her lips,
searching in the sapphire,

honeyscented darkness, found his; cool,

forceful, unresisting, and as
the frozen waves crashed down.

- Afternoon, Mrs. Hutton.

- Oh afternoon, Mrs. Bundy.

- Got your meeting, have you?

- Yes.

I'm on my way.

Is er Gerald.

er Mr. Hadleigh, is he in?

- Yes.

You'll be the first.

- Will I?

Oh, right.

He pulled her towards him,

his powerful, masculine hands tearing

at the silk fabric of
her Gaultier nightshirt.

- Scum.

Scumbag.

Scumbag.

Scumbag.

Scum.

The repetitive beat of the innercity drum.

Scumbag.

Scumbag.

Scumbag.

Scum.

Yes.
(humming)

What is that?

- It's Hector.

My dragon.

I thought I might take
him to the Writer's Group.

- Ye gods, woman.

You're not serious.

- How's it going?

- It was going very well.

Until you interrupted me.

- Scum.

Scumbag.

Scumbag.

Scum.

It's a bit repetitive, isn't it?

- Yes.

It is.

That's the point.

- 1887, Sebastian Lyddiard,

greatgrandson of Herbert Lyddiard,

who served under Sir John
Jervis against Napoleon.

- We ought to go, Honoria.

We're going to be late.

- Well, they can wait.

I've almost finished the 19th century.

- Oh, I am pleased.

- Sebastian Lyddiard.

Edward Lyddiard.

The Right Honourable William Lyddiard.

George Lyddiard.

Herbert Lyddiard.

Henry Lyddiard.

And then

- Ralph.
- Ralph.

Yes.

Ralph Lyddiard.

Do you ever regret marrying him, Amy?

I wonder if you ever think

that but for you he might still be alive?

- No.

- Well I do.

- So now we come to the
question of which writer

we invite to address us.

- How about Jilly Cooper?

- I thought he said a writer.

- Do you think we could
interest Frederick Forsythe?

- I rather doubt it.

- Oh, it's a wonderful idea, Gerald.

- Well.

- Especially since you're
writing a thriller.

I think Frederick Forsythe
would be first rate!

- He'd never come.

He'd just pretend he didn't have time.

They always do.

- I'd like Seamus Heaney.

- The poet?

- Not another poet.

That last one was such
a ghastly little man.

- Yes.

- How about Max Jennings?

- What?

- Max Jennings.

- Why him?

- What do you mean?

- Who is Max Jennings?

- Oh, you know, Honoria.

That book I was reading.

"Far Away Hills".

It was a bestseller.

- No!

No!

No!

I'm the chairman of this group.

I don't want him here.

- Why not?

- I don't think he's very good.

Look what about Alan Bennett?

- Tried him last year.

- Jeffrey Archer?

- Vulgar.

- Look.

It's getting late.

And I've got marking for a class tomorrow.

Why don't we take a vote?

- Max Jennings.

- I say no.

I'm against it.

- It doesn't make any difference.

It's a majority vote.

- Max Jennings it is.

- From something called

the Midsomer Worthy Writers Circle.

They want me to give them a talk.

- You're not gonna go, are you?

- The letter's from somebody
called Brian Clapper.

It's got its own letterhead.

Chairman?

Gerald Hadleigh.

- Do you know him?

- Isn't it a bit early for that?

- No I'm awake!

- Gerald Hadleigh.

They've invited me on July 1st.

- I thought you were in Dusseldorf.

Or Denmark.

Or somewhere.

- I'm in Denmark on the 2nd.

- You don't want to go to
a boring Writer's Circle!

- As a matter of fact I do.

Yes.

As a matter of fact

I do.

- You're gonna be late.

- Yes.

It's rather a treat.

We've got a couple of burglaries.

A car theft.

Nothing very much to hurry in for.

- If someone doesn't get murdered soon

you'll only get tetchy.

- No I won't.

- There you are already.

- No I am not!

(doorbell rings)

I'll get it.

- Cully!

- Dad, hi.

- This is a surprise.

I thought you were on your way to Poland.

- Yeah, we are.

No I'll explain.

This is Brad, by the way.

- Hello, Brad.

- We've only got a minute.

- Come in, come in.

Your Mum's here.

- Does he talk?

- Shh!

- So we're joining the rest of the group

in Paris then we're to go on by train.

- Will they understand "Much
Ado About Nothing" in Poland?

- Dad, it's Shakespeare.

They understand him everywhere.

The way Brad's directed it.

It's very

- Nonverbal?

- Visual.

- So what brings you all
the way out here, darling?

Not that we're not pleased to see you.

- It's got nothing to do
with that wicker basket

you've been trying hard not to let me see?

- You would notice.

Wouldn't you!

- Ah!

- His name is Kilmowski.

He's a Russian Blue.

- Is he yours?

- Yeah.

I sort of adopted him.

- Oh don't tell me.

You're looking for new foster parents.

- Well it's just while I'm away.

He's very clean and he won't be trouble.

I'll bring you back Polish vodka.

- Bribery now, is it?

- It's just for three weeks.

Besides, mum said you weren't busy.

- Well that's true.

Never known it so quiet.

Just make sure you remember to come home!

(bright music)

- Hello.

- Oh, Honoria!

- Are you all right?

- Yes, I'm fine.

- No, you're crying!

- No, it's hay fever.

- Oh.

- Can I help you, Honoria?

- Yes.

You said you might have
some more papers coming in.

Navy News?

- Oh yes, yes.

They're over there.

- What a pretty table.

You have so many pretty things, my dear.

I suppose it comes from being in trade.

- Yes.

They're from the '70s.

'789.

I don't know if that's of any interest.

- They might be indeed.

(phone rings)
- Excuse me.

The Spinning Wheel.

How can I help you?

Oh no, we don't normally carry any with us

- Well I'll be, blown.

- If you'd like to leave
me your telephone number,

if I see one, I'll certainly let you know.

Bye.

Honoria?

- The meeting isn't until 7:30, Honoria.

- You're home early.

- I thought dragons were
supposed to breathe fire?

- Oh he hasn't learnt to do that yet.

It's the story

- I'm gonna have a bath.

Get ready for tonight.

- Max Jennings.

I finished his book.

It's very good.

- Well I'm glad while I was out working

you had time for a nice read.

If you've got any strength left,

maybe you could bring me up a cup of tea.

- Amy!

Can I, give you a hand?

- No, no.

I'm all right.

Just getting the shopping.

- Amy.

- Are you all right, Gerald?

- No, as a matter of fact I'm not.

Thing is.

I'm afraid.

- Afraid?

- Max Jennings.

The writer who's coming tonight.

- What about him?

- I knew him.

A long time ago.

Amy, I want you to do me a favour.

I don't want you to leave
the two of us together.

Not for one minute.

Would you promise me that?

- Well, yes, of course.

- I just don't want to
be left alone with him.

That's all.

- When you say a book is true,

I don't think it has to
be literally the truth.

That's not what writing is about.

You take the truth and you
spin something from it.

You're creating something new;

you're not recording something old.

Anyway, I've been talking quite long

enough now, so in conclusion,

I'd just like to say this.

Writers need stamina.

We need a wayfaring mind.

Nothing should be beneath our attention.

But above all we need luck,

and that's what I wish all of you.

Thank you.

(clapping)

- Well, I can't stay
very long, I'm afraid.

I'm flying off for a
signing session tomorrow.

But are there any questions?

- Gerald?

- No.

- I'd like to ask a
question, Mr. Jennings.

- Max, please.

- Well, I was wondering.

- I'm writing a history of England.

- Oh really?

- As seen through the personal chronicles

of my family, the Lyddiards.

- Here we go.

- Which I have traced
back to the 14th century

and the line continues all the way

to the Falklands where
my late brother, Ralph,

served as an officer on the HMS Leicester.

- Actually I do have a question.

- Yes?

- You were talking about
the truth in fiction.

So I'd be interested to know.

Where do you get your ideas?

- Mainly from experience.

- That's interesting.

Because, you see, I don't have any

experience that I can write about.

Not now.

- I'd like to ask something?

I wondered how you managed to make

your characters so real?

- I worked as a psychiatrist

before I took up writing so
I feel that I know people.

- I wonder if your
characters ever surprise you?

- In what way?

- Well, you think you know them.

You think they're one thing.

And then they turn out to
disappoint you completely.

- Well, I suppose that can happen, yeah.

Anyone else?

- I'm writing a children's book.

- Oh, yes?

- It's about a dragon called Hector.

And my husband's writing a play.

- Actually, I'd say I was building it.

For me it's a totally passe word.

And elitist.

- Which word?

- What?

- Which word is elitist?

Building?

Writing?

Or play?

- Writing.

You know.

We're rapping.

We're improvising.

We're about free association.

You should come to one
of my rehearsals, Max.

You might find it, dangerous.

- Well, I'd love to but unfortunately,

I have to go.

I have a long journey tomorrow.

Thank you very much for inviting me.

It's been a most, instructive evening.

- I'll get your coat.

- Thank you, Mr. Jennings.

Good night.

- We're off too.

I've got a busy day tomorrow.

Marking, rehearsals, staff meeting.

You should try a shift

at a modern comprehensive, Max.

Then you'd really have something
to write about. (laughs)

- Thank you, Max.

That was really interesting.

- Good luck with the children's book.

I'd have liked to have
heard more about it.

- Home, Amy.

- Actually, Honoria.

- What?
- I was thinking

- Really?

I didn't think you could
manage that on your own.

- Your coat.

- Thank you.

- You're leaving.

- Yes.

- That's all right.

We can all go together.

- Well, goodbye, Gerald.

Thank you for inviting me.

- I didn't.

- Well, it was good to see you anyway.

- Mr. Jennings?
- I'm on my way.

- Now there is something
I actually do want

to know, Mr. Jennings.

Who do you think would be the best person

to approach once my history is finished?

I don't want it published
by just any old firm.

- I'm afraid I'm not
the best person to ask,

Mrs?

- Miss Lyddiard.

- Most of my contacts are
all in the field of fiction.

- Really?

To be quite frank, we were expecting

a much broader range of knowledge.

- Honoria!

- But how stupid of me.

I seem to have forgotten my gloves.

I'll say goodnight.

- How very rude!

- We've got to go back in.

- What?

- I promised Gerald.

- What did you promise Gerald

and what does it matter anyway?

- Gerald and Max.

- It's late.

We're going home.

Now.

- Your gloves.

- Any chance of a nightcap?

- I thought you were flying out.

To a signing session.

- Gerald.
- What are you doing?

Why did you come here?

- I came to see you.

(dramatic music)

(playful music)

- Morning, Mr. Hadleigh!

Mr. Hadleigh?

Hello?

(screaming)

- Can you move these people further back?

- Yes, sir.

There's nothing to see.

- Morning Troy.

- Morning, sir.

- Have we got a name?

- Gerald Hadleigh.

If it is him.

He's not quite recognisable.

It's just in here sir.

- Oh, where the blood and
the police photographers are?

Thank you Troy.

- Morning, Tom.

- Morning.

Do we gave the weapon?

- I've had it bagged up.

"In the bedroom with the candlestick."

And before you ask, I'd say
between 11 o'clock last night

and one in the morning.

- It doesn't look like he put up

much of a struggle.

- No.

And then there's the question of clothes.

- He's not wearing any.

- I'll tell you what though, Tom

whoever did it must have been in a hell

of a temper.

Probably killed him with the first blow

and then just went on bashing.

- Yes, George.

I saw.

- Did you notice the cupboard, sir?

- If you mean the cupboard that seems

to have been emptied, it
had caught my attention.

Yes.

OK.

So, where's this cleaning lady of yours?

- I've never.

No.

I've never seen, you know.

A dead person before.

- You alright to carry on?

OK.

Now let's start with this morning.

- The house was in a bit of a mess.

There was stuff left over from last night,

there was some sort of writer's evening.

- Was there anything, um, unusual?

- Yeah.

His wife's photograph.

She's dead and he always
kept it in the same place.

Just there.

When I came in this morning, it was moved.

- So where was it?

- Someone had put it in the drawer.

- Did you ever meet her?

- No, he never talked about his wife.

He was a very private man.

- So you came into the house.

You noticed the photograph.

And then you went upstairs.

- I knew there was something wrong.

- Did you go into the bedroom?

- Of course I didn't go in!

Do you think I'm mad?

I took one look and I saw him stark naked

on the carpet with his head bashed

in and I scarpered.

Well, of course I didn't bloody go in!

- So she didn't go in!

- Yes.

I think we have established that!

- It could have been opportunistic, sir.

A sneak thief caught unawares.

He could have been
surprised in the bedroom

and just panicked.

- You see that Rolex watch
on the bedside table Troy?

- Yes.

- Well, a sneak thief would hardly leave

that behind, would he?

Now, what about these writers?

- There were six of them.

Brian and Sue Clapper.

Amy and Honoria Lyddiard,

they're sistersinlaw.

Laura Hutton, she owns
the local antique shop.

And there was a visiting
writer but Mrs. Bundy

didn't know his name.

- Have you got any addresses?

- Well the Clappers just live over there.

- The Clappers.

- He's a teacher at Causton Comprehensive.

- Right we'll start with them.

- Oh, and I'd be interested to know

what car Hadleigh drove.

- Why?

- The garage, Troy, it's empty.

- The Midsomer Worthy Writer's Ciccle.

We met once a month.

Of course there'd be more
space at Gresham Hall.

That's Honoria's house.

But she wouldn't have it.

Ever since Ralph died.

Anyway, mind you, the
place is like a morgue.

Freezing cold even in
the middle of summer.

- Who was Ralph?

- Her brother.

She worshipped him.

Amy was his wife and now she lives there,

if lives is the right word.

Of course, I shouldn't talk out of turn.

Poor Gerald!

It's still so hard to believe.

- How would you describe
Gerald Hadleigh last night?

Was he happy, sad?

- Tense.

Definitely tense.

I thought perhaps he and Laura

might have had some sort of row.

They were usually so close.

But that night she was distinctly frosty.

Mind you, it probably has something to do

with Max Jennings.

Gerald was dead set against his coming.

- Max Jennings.

He was the visiting writer?

- Yes.

Brian, that's my husband,

had to invite him because Gerald wouldn't.

- How well did you know Gerald Hadleigh?

- Not very well.

Nobody did.

We've been here about five years

and he'd already been
here a couple of years.

He was a very quiet man.

- Did you know his wife?

- No.

He never spoke about her.

I asked him once, he got quite upset.

- Did you happen to see Max Jennings leave

after the meeting?

- No.

- What about your husband?

- Brian and I, we went
to bed straight away,

Brian was asleep the moment his head

touched the pillow.

Sound asleep.

- Did you sleep?

- Not immediately.

And I did hear a car pull away.

It must have been a little after midnight.

- Well, that could have
been Gerald Hadleigh's car.

- No.

Gerald's car was stolen the other day.

In Causton.

- She was definitely lying
about that husband of hers.

- Which is why I must
try and get to him first.

Before she reaches him.

- Causton Comprehensive.

- You have a problem?

- I went there, sir.

'83 to 90'.

(horn honking)

- It's a pity they didn't
teach you how to drive.

- That's the library.

Science block over there.

I always hoped I'd never come back.

- You weren't happy here, then?

- I couldn't wait to get out.

- Hey, I know you, don't I?

Gavin Troy!

- Hello, Mr. Belgrove.

- Then who are you?

- I'm Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I'm with the police.

- Oh yeah!

I always said he'd come to no good.

Bit late bringing him
back here though, innit?

- See what I mean?

- All right now gently on
the knees, loose, knees,

up and down and shake
it out, shake it out.

Piece of sticky tape on your fingers

and you want to get it off, shake it out.

Remember, making pictures now.

Adventure.

Explore.

Reach out.

Reveal.

Interesting warmup technique, Edie.

- Thanks, Bri!

- OK.

(clapping)

Gather, round, earthlings.

(chuckles)

- Right.

We're two acts down.

We've done some good work.

But now we need something for the end

of the play.

Who can tell me what we need?

- I need a fag.

- Yeah!

Good one, Denzil.

Alright, alright I'll
tell you what we need.

It's called a coup de theatre.

- A coup de what?

- Now, shh, shh.

A coup de theatre.

The big scene.

The wrap.

I'm walking down the street the other day.

Right OK.

Now think.

Well get into character if it helps.

- Drop dead, you scumbag!

- What?

- That's my character, Bri.

Remember?

(class laughs)

- Careful now.

Not there.

That's enough.
- Mr. Clapper!

- That's enough!
- Mr. Clapper!

- What is it Miss Panter.

- Some policemen have just arrived

at the school, Mr. Clapper.

They want to have a word.

- [Kids] Ooh.

- Oh!

Evenin' all.

Right.

I'll be right back.

Just think coup de theatre.

See if you can surprise me.

Dead?

God!

I was actually there, you know.

Yesterday.

- Yes, sir.

We've already spoken to your wife.

- Yeah?

Well, I'm sure she wouldn't
have told you anything.

How can I help you?

What can you tell me about
this visiting writer?

Max Jennings?

- A reactionary fossil.

Not a clue about contemporary drama,

hardly surprising when
you consider the stuff

he turns out.

- You don't like his books, sir?

- I haven't read them.

- But it was you who invited him.

- Only because Gerald got so uptight.

Yes.

- You have no idea why he was so upset?

- I never asked him.

No.

- Did you see him at all?

In the hours before
the writer's group met?

- He wasn't in.

I saw Honoria Lyddiard
knocking at his door,

must have been about four.

She wasn't getting any reply.

- Can you tell us anything about him?

His background?

- He was a civil servant
who'd taken early retirement.

A platinum handshake and a fat pension.

I had no time for people like him.

- Oh, I'm sure.

So can we go back to yesterday evening?

- What time did you leave the group?

- Well I would have thought my wife

would have told you.

10:15.

- And you went straight home?

- Yes.

And straight to sleep.

- Are you quite sure about that, sir?

- My yea is my yea and my nay is my nay,

Inspector, and I've just told you,

I didn't go out! (chuckles)

(bell rings)

I'm sure you can find you own way out.

- Mr. Clapper.

I forgot to tell you.

Your wife telephoned.

- Too bloody late.

(soft music)

- Gresham House.

Honoria Lyddiard's house.

- You ever see Frankenstein, sir?

- No.

- This must be where they filmed it.

- Can't you read?

No hawkers.

No circulars.

Go away or I shall call the police!

- Mrs. Lyddiard?

- Miss Lyddiard.

Yes.

- We are the police.

Causton CID.

Can we go inside?

- If you must.

- There's very little I can
tell you, Chief Inspector.

I hardly knew Gerald Hadleigh.

- It seems that hardly
anyone in the village

did, Miss Lyddiard.

- I saw him once a month.

The writers' circle.

That all?

- You were seen at his
house on the afternoon

of his death, Miss Lyddiard.

Knocking at the door.

- Are you trying to suggest this horrible

business has got anything to do with me?

I'd agreed to help with the food.

Gerald said he'd contribute towards

the cost and I went round to
collect the money, that's all.

- Honoria?

Have you heard?

Oh.

- These people are from the police.

- And you are?

- Amy Lyddiard.

Honoria's sisterinlaw.

So it's true about Gerald?

- We are investigating
a murder, Mrs. Lyddiard.

- Oh dear!

- Did you both come back here
after the writer's evening?

- Yes.

We drove home together.

- And then?

- I retired straight away.

I had a bad headache.

The visitor, Max Jennings,

had been allowed to smoke.

A disgusting habit!

- And you, Mrs. Lyddiard?

- Not quite straight away.

I made us drinks.

Cocoa actually.

- They don't want to know every detail

of our domestic life Amy.

- I'm sorry.

- Why don't you tell them how much sugar

you put in too?

I'll say good day.

- I'm sorry?

- I am a Lyddiard, as is
my late brother's wife.

Our name is woven into the
very warp and woof of England.

Above reproach.

I suggest you pursue
your enquiries elsewhere.

- Warp and what?

- Woof.

- Honoria adored my
husband, Chief Inspector.

Her brother...

That's him there.

After he died, I had no money
so she let me live with her.

I do light housework in return,
well most of it, really.

- Thank you.

- Mrs. Lyddiard, what can you
tell me about Gerald Hadleigh?

- He was terrified of
meeting Max Jennings.

Oh Chief Inspector.

This is all my fault!

He asked me not to leave
the two of them together.

Not for a minute.

And I promised him!

- Gerald Hadleigh?

- Yes.

He said he was frightened and I said

I'd stay, but then everything went wrong.

- Why, what happened?

- We were the last to leave.

Honoria.

Max Jennings.

And me.

And then.

- I seem to have forgotten my gloves.

- How very rude.

- We've got to go back in there.

I wanted to go back in.

But Honoria was in a hurry to leave.

So I left him on his own.

- Mrs. Lyddiard, can you remember.

who it was who suggested
inviting Max Jennings

in the first place?

- That was me!

- God!

How can people live like that?

- I'm not sure that Amy
Lyddiard has any choice.

I wonder what she'd do to get away?

- What's the matter with you?

- Nothing, Honoria.

It's just all been so sudden.

- I'm afraid I can't
help you, Mr. Barnaby.

My husband isn't here.

He flew to Denmark the day
after this writer's thing.

Signing books.

Max is very big in Denmark.

- Did he come back here

after the Writer's Group
meeting, Mrs. Jennings?

- No.

It was easier to overnight at Heathrow.

- Do you know the name of the airline?

- No.

- Well, do you know how we can reach him?

- No.

You'll have to ask to his secretary,

Bouncing Barbara.

She made the reservations.

- Barbara?

- Barbara Neale.

That's her name.

- Do you know where we
can get in touch with her?

- No not really.

Look will you excuse me.

I don't really see that
this has got anything

to do with me.

(soft music)

- Swimming in her jewels!

- Get hold of this Barbara Neale.

And while you're at it,
check the passenger lists

of all flights to Denmark.

- You think Max Jennings--
- Right, and stop here.

- You idiot!

- A bookshop, sir?

- Yes, Troy.

Books.

- So who was he, the victim?

- I'm not sure.

The more I hear about him,

the less I seem to know him.

He was Gerald Hadleigh.

An ex-civil servant from Kent.

But that's all.

His house didn't tell
me a thing about him.

- What do you mean?

- It had no character.

There were no souvenirs.

No mail.

No personal documents, not
even a driving licence.

Just a photograph of his dead wife.

Just one photograph!

Doesn't that strike you as strange?

- How many have you got of me?

- Well I have two of you in my wallet!

Look, whoever killed Hadleigh
took away a suitcase.

- How do you know that?

- There was a set of three.

The middle one is missing.

A brown case with initial GH.

Yes.

Where's the cat?

- Kilmowski?

I haven't seen him.

- Joyce!

- He's lonely.

- I don't care if he's
manically depressed.

He's not sleeping there!

- Just for tonight.
- Not tonight.

Not ever!

- Aren't you coming to bed?

- No.

I'm not sleepy.

I'm going out.

- You were out last night too.

- You didn't tell them that?

- Who?

- Dixon of Dock Green
and his fascist sidekick.

- No.

- Goosestepping in.

Trying to trick me.

- Trick you into what?

- It doesn't matter.

You didn't tell them.

- No.

But you were out last night, Brian.

Where did you go?

- Round the green.

Blow the cobwebs.

- Then why didn't you tell them that?

why did you have to lie?

- Oh, forget it.

Just forget it!

- Morning, sir.

- Good morning.

- I've got that infomation
on Hadleigh's car, sir.

A blue Celica, registration Papa 844

Alpha, Papa, Charlie.

Reported stolen between
nine and 11 in Causton.

- Who reported it?

- He did.

From home.

It was logged at five to midnight.

- Doesn't that strike you as odd?

- What?

- Well the car is stolen
between nine and 11 in Causton

but he doesn't report it for another hour.

Why wait until he gets home?

- There was something else, sir.

Max Jennings.

I've checked all the flights to Denmark

from Heathrow and Gatwick,
and all the ferries.

He wasn't on any of them.

- What was the name of that secretary?

- Bouncing Barbara!

- I look after all Max's paperwork.

VAT returns.

Fan mail.

Book signings.

Appearances.

- Wouldn't it be easier
to work at his house?

- Max keeps his business

and his private life very separate.

- Did you organise his flight to Denmark?

- No.

Usually I would.

But for some reason Max said
he'd do that one himself.

- And the hotel?
- Yes.

I can't think why.

I did ask him.

But he just told me to forget it.

- Was he meeting his publisher?

- I don't know.

I really can't help you, there.

Max didn't say anything.

- The Midsomer Worthy Writer's Circle?

Did he mention it?

- Yes.

He told me he was going.

- I'd have thought that
a half dozen amateurs

in a little village was
hardly worth the trouble

of a writer like Max Jennings.

- That's what I thought.

But he knew one of them.

- Gerald Hadleigh?

- Yes.

That was the name.

Max said he wanted to see him.

- Were they friends?

- I don't think so.

I got the feeling.

Max was afraid of him.

- So which way round was it?

According to Amy Lyddiard,

Gerald Hadleigh was
afraid of Max Jennings.

But now his secretary tells
us it was Max Jennings

who was afraid of Gerald Hadleigh!

- Maybe they were scared of each other.

- Oh, that very helpful, Troy.

- She was certainly scared of something.

- Oh yes.

- If you ask me, she's
having it away with him!

She knows he did it.

She knows where he is
and she's hiding him.

- You all right?
- Yes.

- It could be your
washing powder, you know.

If it's biological.

- Yes, thank you, Troy, thank you.

I still haven't met anyone who actually

knew Gerald Hadleigh.

He had a wife.

What was her name?

What did she die of?

Where did he come from?

- There's still Laura Hutton.

- What?

- We still haven't questioned her.

And according to Brian Clapper,

her and Hadleigh could have
been banging each other.

- Banging each other, what a delightfully

picturesque turn of phrase.

All right.

Back to Midsomer Worthy.

And this time I'll drive.

- I didn't really know Gerald.

No.

I'm sorry.

We met once a month at the writer's group.

That was all.

- Just out of interest what sorts of books

were you all writing, Mrs. Hutton?

- Gerald was writing a spy thriller.

Sue, a children's book.

Brian, a rather dreadful play.

I believe Amy wasn't writing anything

although she did talk about poetry.

And of course there's Honoria
and her family history.

She's always in and out of here.

In fact she came in that afternoon.

About four o'clock.

The afternoon before it happened.

- What for?

- Old magazines.

Oh, London Illustrated News.

Life Magazine.

Navy News.

She's fanatical about it.

Anything to do with her
family or her brother

Ralph in particular.

As a matter of fact,
she stole one of those!

- Do you know which one?

- June '78.

They're in order, you see.

She probably found another
cutting for her book.

- And what about you, Mrs. Hutton?

- I'm sorry?

- What were you writing?

- I was writing a romance.

- Did you show it to Gerald Hadleigh?

- Why do you ask?

Oh yes, of course.

I know people talk about me and Gerald.

Gerald and me.

Well, it's a village.

One expects that sort of thing.

And it's true that I did find
Gerald quite, attractive.

But he never once
reciprocated my feelings.

Not once.

- We have been told
that there was a certain

amount of tension between
you and Mr. Hadleigh

on the night of his death.

- Who told you that?

- Please, Mrs. Hutton.

- Very well.

I'm a broadminded person,

you know, and what Gerald did in his own

time was his own affair.

He was, after all a man.

Well, I happened to be passing his house

the night before we met,
for the writer's circle.

I'm a bad sleeper and
I often go out walking

quite late at night.

That night, it must have
been about 10 to 12,

maybe a little earlier.

And that was when I saw it.

A woman arrived in a local Causton cab.

She paid the driver, got out

and walked towards Gerald's house.

I thought she was gonna ring the bell.

But she let herself in.

She had a key.

She was quite obviously a prostitute.

- How can you be sure?

- Her clothes.

The way she walked.

- What happened?

- Now I'm not normally a nosy person,

but I have to admit, I was aroused.

My curiosity, that is.

I went a little closer.

And that was when I saw them.

He'd given her a glass of wine.

She was toasting him.

And laughing.

Now I didn't mind being
rejected by Gerald.

I didn't mind at all.

But to think of him
turning to that sort of--

- You were angry.

- No I wasn't angry.

- I was disappointed.

- Mrs. Hutton.

You didn't by any chance go back there?

The following evening?

After the writer's meeting.

- Well as a matter of fact I did.

I couldn't sleep.

So I went out.

It was half past 12.

I arrived just in time

to see Max Jennings leave.

It was clear to me he'd
had too much to drink.

He took quite a while
getting into the car.

- Did you see Gerald Hadleigh?

- No.

But there was a light on upstairs in,

what I imagine was his bedroom.

Anyway, I was just about
to leave when I saw,

It was Brian Clapper.

- And he went home?

- I don't know.

He could have gone anywhere.

I left.

You see, I didn't want to be seen outside

Gerald's house in the middle of the night.

I mean, it could have been misconstrued!

- So Brian Clapper was lying.

- Yes.

- And he'll still be at school.

- You gonna have another go at him, sir?

- No, Troy.

You can do that.

- Oh, I'd like that.

- So how's the play going, Mr. Clapper?

- Well obviously, all these interruptions.

- You didn't tell us what it was called.

- Slangwhang for Five Mute Voices.

Working title.

It's very demanding, you know.

But they're a great bunch of kids.

Some real talent.

The Carters especially.

Edie.

And Tom.

They're terrific.

Life's stacked against them.

But they never give up.

The girl especially.

Edie.

There was just one detail
we wanted to get straight,

Mr. Clapper.

- Oh, yes?

- You told us that you
went home at about 10:15

and went straight to bed.

- Yes.

- Well, we have a witness who says

they saw you returning home
some time after midnight.

(laughs)

- What?

- You are aware, that this
is a murder investigation.

- Yes.

Well, that night.

Right.

I did go out.

Yes.

For a drive.

Blow the cobwebs.

I don't know why I forgot to mention it.

- Did you see anyone
outside Plover's Rest.

- No.

Yes!

There was someone.

But I didn't see them.

I was sort of, behind the car, you see.

And someone did walk past.

I didn't see who it was.

- Can you tell us actually where you went

that night, sir?

- No.

- You weren't perhaps, on your
way to some sort of, tryst?

- Tryst?

No!

Of course not.

I was walking.

Just walking.

I woke up and I went for a wank.

A walk!

- I bet he was round the local estate.

What was that girl he was going on about?

Edie.

Trying to get a look
in the bedroom window.

- You enjoyed that, didn't you, Troy?

- Seven years of misery here.

It's nice to get a bit of revenge.

- Oh yes.

- They arrest you, Brian?

- Are you a suspect?

- Yeah, I bet you did it, Brian.

- Why'd you do it, Brian?

Was it the money?

- He's the killer!

- All right.

No, no get up, get up.

Just sit down.

Now we've only got a few minutes left,

so how's this scene of yours coming on?

- Our coo de tayartra.

- We've been working on it, Bri.

- Well I don't see much evidence of it.

(bell rings)

We meet again next Friday.

If you haven't got
anything for me by then,

I'll have to write it for you.

- Edie?

- Brian.

Can I have a word?

- Yeah, sure.

What is it?

- I really need to talk to you.

- That's what I'm here for.

- Oh!

Come on, off!

- It's a wonderful book.

I'm not surprised it's a bestseller.

You should read it.

- I gave it to you!

- Well, it's the story of a young boy.

An Irish boy.

His name is Liam Hanlon.

Liam lives on a farm near
Durrow in Southern Ireland.

It's a horrible life.

He's abused by his father, sexually.

(coughing)

- Liam.

- When he's 13 years old,

Liam shoots his father with
his own shotgun and runs away.

(screaming)

He meets a man, an artist,

and they travel together.

First in Europe.

Then Turkey.

- The far away hills.

- But Jennings has a
wonderful way with language.

Listen.

- Is it autobiographical?

- It reads that way.

Liam has bought a flat
overlooking the Albert Hall.

- How did he get the money?

- From the artist.

He's painted him lots of times,

always in historical dress,

and they've made a fortune.

Anyway, listen.

He lies on the bed,

the cushion cool against
the curves of his neck,

and traces his past against
the moulding on the ceiling.

(sneezes)

Tom!
- I'm sorry.

I must have got a bit of flu from Troy.

Sorry, go on.

It's good, it's good.
(phone rings)

- You'd better get that.

- I'm sorry.

- Yes?

I'm on my way.

- We've found Max Jennings.

- He's inside, sir.

- Oh, surprise me Troy.

- Bit far afield for
you, isn't it, George?

- It's my case too, Tom.

And I fancied a day by the sea.

- So did he by the look of things.

So what do you think?

- He's been dead 48 hours or more.

- Poison?

- I wouldn't be surprised.

- Look at the eyes.

Bilateral ptosis.

And there's a little
pigmentation at the hair root.

Are you all right?

- Yes.

Why?

- That's a very nasty
rash you've got there,

at the side of your neck.

(sneezes)

- Well, I suppose, that's it then.

- That's what, Troy?

- The end of the case.

- What do you mean?

- Well.

We already know that Gerald
Hadleigh and Max Jennings

knew each other in the past.

There must have been
some sort of feud and it

got out of control.

Jennings bludgeoned Hadleigh to death

and when he came to
his senses and realised

what he'd done he came
down here and ended it all

rather than face the music.

- That what you think is it?

- Yes.

- Well I don't.

- Who was Gerald Hadleigh

and what was he before he
came to Midsomer Worthy?

And what ever happened to his wife?

We still don't even know her name!

It's like a blank jigsaw.

We've got some of the pieces

but not even the start of a picture.

Let's take the day Gerald Hadleigh died.

Honoria Lyddiard visits Laura Hutton.

- The Spinning Wheel, how can I help you?

And she steals a newspaper.

Actually steals, a newspaper.

- Well if you'd like to
leave your telephone number.

- We know from Brian Clapper

that she went straight from
the shop to Gerald Hadleigh.

- The meeting isn't until 7:30, Honoria.

- Why?

- Well, she said it was something to do

with the catering.

- It was a bit late in the day

to be worrying about the food.

- And then, when the evening was finished.

Why did Max Jennings
go back into the house?

Why didn't Amy Lyddiard
manage to stop him?

- Well, I promised Gerald.

- And if Jennings did kill him,

what about the empty cupboard

and the missing suitcase?

What was taken?

And why was Hadleigh naked when he died?

And we've still got to
think about the night

before the murder!

This woman Laura Hutton claims she saw!

Who was she?

And if Laura Hutton was in
love with Gerald Hadleigh,

could she have been jealous
enough to bash his head in?

For unrequited love?

Right.

I want you to check
every minicab in Causton

until you find the one that
dropped off a blonde woman

in Midsomer Worthy at
midnight on the 31st.

I want a complete background
on Gerald Hadleigh

and do the same for Max Jennings.

On my desk at nine
o'clock tomorrow morning.

It's time we got to work.

- Are you all right, sir?

- Yes.

Got news on Hadleigh?

- We've got no record of his marriage.

We can't find an insurance number.

There's no birth certificate.

And the Civil Service
has never heard of him.

- So what is he?

The invisible man?

How about the taxi driver?

- We're still looking.

There is one thing though.

We've found his car.

The Celica.

No surprises there.

A straight forward TDA.

Wrecked and dumped in the river.

- Well at least that's something.

- And Barbara Neale's here.

- Who?

- Bouncing Barbara.

- I hope you realise I
could have you charged

right now for obstruction.

- I didn't mean to.

I didn't want to.

But what else could I do?

- You could have told us
the truth and saved us

all a lot of time.

That seaside cottage was
booked for two, wasn't it.

Max Jennings and you.

All right.

When did it start?

- Max used to be a psychiatrist

before he was a writer.

I was his receptionist.

Then I was his secretary.

And then...

We'd been seeing each other for two years.

- You knew he was dead didn't you.

- Tell me.

- There was no Denmark.

That was just what we told Selina.

The plan was we were going to meet there.

At the cottage.

He'd gone down the night
before and I followed.

It was easier for us
to go down separately.

Max?

I got there about lunchtime.

Maxie darling?

You're not in bed already!

Maxie!

Max?

He was lying there on the bed.

I thought he must have had
a heart attack or something.

I never dreamt. (sniffs)

What could I do?

I couldn't tell you about
him without telling about us!

I mean, nobody knew.

Nobody.

- We could have saved 48 hours

if she's been straight with us.

(sneezes)

- Bless you.
- God damn it!

What is wrong with me?

- Sir?
- What?

- Gerald Hadleigh.

We've found his solicitor.

- What sort of a man was
Gerald Hadleigh, Mr. Jocelyne?

- He was a very private man.

Unusually reserved.

But we looked after his
legal affairs for him,

including the purchase of
Plover's Rest seven years ago.

- Do you know where
Gerald Hadleigh came from?

- London.

I can't tell you any more than that.

Although I believe he did
retain a property there.

- How do you know?

- We handled a purchase, though no sale.

I'm sure more details will come in once

we have probate.

- Oh you're handling his
will as well are you?

- Oh yes.

That's right, yes.

- We'd be grateful for any details.

- Ah well, I shall.

- This is a murder
investigation, Mr. Jocelyne.

- Quite.

Well, it's very straightforward.

The bulk of his fortune went

to the St Martin's School of Art.

Mr. Hadleigh wished to
endow two scholarships.

- Was there a lot of money involved?

- Yes, indeed.

- How much exactly?

- In cash, oh, at least
2 1/2 million pounds.

- What?

Are there any personal bequests?

- Oh, yes.

Indeed.

Let us see, here we are, now then,

he left 500 pounds to a Mrs. Bundy.

- His cleaner.

- And 10,000 to the local cricket team.

Oh yes, he left a picture,

an oil painting, to a Mrs. Laura Hutton.

Ah yes.

And a somewhat larger
sum of 100,000 pounds.

- Who to?

- 100,000

Oh goodness!

- Did you know Mr. Hadleigh was planning

to leave you something, Mrs. Lyddiard?

- He did sometimes joke about it.

He said it would amuse him.

to rescue me from Honoria.

- When did you come to live here?

- It was after Ralph died.

We'd had a little house in Spain.

We were trying to make a life there,

but Ralph got ill.

I wrote to Honoria of
course and the next day

she just arrived!

She nursed him.

She did everything for him.

It was as if I wasn't there.

And then after Ralph, died,

she talked to the doctors.

She brought his body
brought back to England.

I didn't have a penny.

There was nothing I could do.

- And there's nothing more you can tell us

about Gerald Hadleigh?

About that night?

- I wish I'd gone back.

I should have.

I promised him.

- But you didn't.

- I told you.

I was making us hot drinks.

Honoria had hers in the
study and I had mine in bed.

It's the warmest room in the house.

- Will you leave?

Now that you have money?

- Yes, of course.

I hate it here.

And I can, can't I!

I'm rich.

- Amy?

Why haven't you started the lunch?

- These officers have came to tell me

some news, Honoria.

Good news.

- Well I'm sure it's of no interest to me.

- As a matter of fact there was something

we wanted to ask you, Miss Lyddiard.

- What?

- It's only a detail.

But I'd be interested to know what was it

that you saw in the Navy News

that you took from Mrs. Hutton's shop.

- I suppose she told you about that.

- Do you deny it?

- We just want to know what was in it.

- It was on page five.

There was a picture of The Leicester.

- That was Ralph's ship!

- Exactly.

I took it for my book.

- Could I see it?

Just out of interest?

- This is it here.

My brother Ralph rose to be
a sub lieutenant, you know.

He received two commendations.

He would have been an
admiral, I'm sure of it.

There.

- On leave in Antalya.

- I really don't see what
bearing it can have on your case.

- As I said, Miss Lyddiard.

It was just out of interest.

- Well that doesn't get us anywhere.

- Oh, I don't know, Troy.

There was something she said in there.

- Honoria?
- No, not Honoria.

Amy.

- Here.

Let me do that.

- Honoria.

I must talk to you.

- Must you?

- I've decided to leave.

- What?

- I've had enough.

I'm going.

- No you can't.

- Yes, I can.

- I promised Ralph I'd look after you.

- It's not me you're
interested in me, Honoria.

It's Ralph you want.

But he's dead, keeping me
here won't bring him back.

- Don't talk to me about Ralph!

- He was my husband!

- If you'd loved him enough
he wouldn't have died!

- I'll leave tomorrow.

It'll be better for both of us.

- No.

You're a Lyddiard.

Blood and bone.

- What?

- Blood and bone.

That's what counts.

Blood counts.

Bone counts.

- I'm sorry, Honoria.

- No!

- I want to look after you.

I want to see you.

I need to have you here.

- Laura?

What's happening?

- I'm closed.

I'm leaving.

- Leaving the village?

But why?

- I always used to think that if you loved

someone hard enough and for long enough

they wouldn't be able
to help loving you back.

I've been very foolish.

- Gerald.

- That was his.

He left it to me.

- It's beautiful.

- It's a Hilton Conninx, you know.

One of the series of historical boys

he painted in the '50s.

It's very valuable.

But I'll never sell it.

It reminds me of him.

- His name's Baker.

He's over there, sir.

- Thank you.

- Yeah.

I picked her up.

I told your officers.

It was just after 11 o'clock.

She told me to drive to Midsomer Worthy.

When we got there, she
pointed out the house.

Other than that she didn't say a word.

- Can you tell me anything else about her?

- She was an ugly woman!

Tall.

A lot of makeup.

Nice legs though.

- Where did you pick her up?

- On the corner, just over there.

- Thank you, thank you very much.

- She could have come from anywhere.

- Didn't you listen to what he said?

'Cause it could explain
that empty wardrobe

in Gerald Hadleigh's bedroom

and why he had no clothes on.

And maybe the photograph
of his dead wife too.

- What, you think this
woman took his clothes?

- No.

No, I don't.

This is what we're looking for.

- What is this place?

- What do you think?

- We're not open yet.

- I thought Troy was gonna have a seizure.

It was really very funny.

(sneezes)

- So Gerald Hadleigh was a transvestite?

- Yeah.

He parked his car close
to the club and now

he must have walked back to
it in full woman's dress.

But of course it wasn't there.

Well, he couldn't just
walk into Causton CID

dressed as he was and
that's why he didn't report

his car stolen until he got home.

- And the woman Laura Hutton saw.

- It wasn't a woman at all.

- It was dark and Laura Hutton
was hidden in the bushes

and she probably only
got a back view anyway.

- But I thought she saw Gerald Hadleigh

and the woman having a drink together.

- That's what she thought she saw.

There's a mirror in the room, Joyce.

If you ask me, what Laura
saw was Gerald Hadleigh

toasting himself on his lucky escape!

My glands are swollen.

- You're not looking at all well, Tom.

Shouldn't you see the doctor?

- I'll see how I feel when I wake up.

It's only a bit of flu.

- Oh Bri!

I'm so glad you came.

- Well, if you need my help.

- I do.

Come in.

- Here you are, Bri.

- What is it?

- Thunderbolt Mixed Wine.

Apples and lemons and all that.

- Yes.

Are we on our own?

- Mum's out with Tom.

- So then, young Edie,
what can I do for you?

- Let's sit down.

It's the play, Brian.

I'm nervous.

I'm never gonna be able to stand up

in front of all those people.

- Of course you are.

- And my accent's all wrong.

- No, no.

It's perfect.

You're perfect.

Believe me.

- But I don't like the character.

She really gets on my tits.

- Tits?

- Please say you'll help me, Bri.

I need you to tell me
I'm gonna be all right.

- Oh God, Edie.

You're more than all right.

You're fantastic.

You're the best.

You don't know how much I've dreamed.

- Oh Brian!

- Oh Edie!

(moaning)

(shutter clicking)

- This just came for you.

- A bit early for the post isn't it?

- It wasn't in the post.

It was hand-delivered.

No stamp.

- Did you see who delivered it?

- I didn't look.

Oh, did I tell you Laura
Hutton's leaving the village?

It seems very sudden.

And I spoke to Amy too.

You won't believe what's happened!

It's an absolute miracle.

- For God's sake, woman!

Will you just shut up!

- What?

What is it?

- I've got that report from Dr. Bullard.

It was poison that killed Max Jennings.

Looks like he had it in a glass of wine.

- Thallium sulphate.

- Administered twelve
hours before he died.

- That was when he was
with Gerald Hadleigh

in Midsomer Worthy.

- Thallium sulphate is
a slow acting poison.

Hadleigh could have slipped
it into Jennings's drink

while he was still at Plover's Rest.

And Jennings could have attacked Hadleigh

without realising he was
already dying himself.

But the clothes.

Why take the clothes?

- Somebody didn't want us to know

he was a genderbender.

(phone rings)

- Chief Inspector Barnaby.

- Oh yes.

Chief Inspector.

James Jocelyne here of
Jocelyne, Tibbles and Delaney?

- Yes, Mr. Jocelyne?

- I mentioned to you that Mr. Hadleigh

had a property in London.

- Yes.

- Well, I thought you ought to know,

I've just received various
documents from the bank.

- Do you have an address?

- Yes!

That's why I telephoned you!

- So, you got here, then?

- Yes.

Yes.

(chuckles)

- So.

What's this all about then?

This is some sort of joke.

Right?

- I don't think it's very funny.

- Raping a 15-year-old girl.

- Rape?

There was no rape!

- You calling Edie a liar?

- Who d'you think the
police are gonna believe?

- What?

- We could come to an arrangement.

- How does five thou strike you, Bri?

- I haven't got five thousand pounds!

- You can raise it, Bri.

- A middle class ponce like you.

No problem.

- Why?

What have I ever done to you?

I just tried to help.

- Push off, Brian.

- Yeah, just get out.

- Oh, Brian.

- You left these.

(class cheers)

- So watcha think then, Bri?

- Was it good?

- It was great!

- Yeah, it was our coo de tayatra!

- What?

- It was a scene!

You told us to work on a scene!

- You said we had to surprise you.

- I bet we surprised him.

- A scene.

- Yeah, you think we can
work it into the play, Bri?

- You can do what you bloody like!

I must have been mad
ever to have wasted five

minutes let alone five
months on any of you.

Or to have thought that the stinking,

sewers that pass for minds

could ever begin to understand

the first thing about drama or literature.

Why don't you all crawl
back into the gutter

where you belong?

And stay there!

And rot!

Scum!

- Well, that wasn't very nice was it?

- All right.

Plan B.

(chuckles)

- Well, this is it.

- Looks like there's a storm coming.

- You think he lived here, sir?

- Shh!

Why do I feel as if I know this place?

- What?

- I know this place.

I've been here.

- You can't have.

Can you?

- [Joyce] It's the story of a young boy.

An Irish boy.

Liam has bought a flat
overlooking the Albert Hall.

- Of course!

That's it!

- It's a wonderful book.

- It was all in the book.

- Which book?

- He lies on the bed,

the cushion cool against
the curves of his neck,

and traces his past against
the mouldings on the ceiling.

- The book Max Jennings
wrote about Gerald Hadleigh!

That's how I know this flat.

It was in the book!

- It's not possible.

- Oh yes it is Troy.

Look.

- [Joyce] His name is Liam Hanlon.

He meets a man, an artist.

He has painted him lots of times,

always in historical dress.

They travel together, first in Europe,

and then Turkey.

- Why didn't I read the book?

I should have read the book.

Liam Hanlon, the boy, meets an artist.

The artist paints him in historical dress

and the paintings sell for a fortune.

It's all in there.

- And Liam Hanlon.

- Was Gerald Hadleigh.

Yeah.

He was sexually abused.

He killed his father and
he runs away from home.

He gets rich.

And then, one day, he tells
Max Jennings everything.

- But why did he do that?

How did they meet?

- Do you remember what
Bouncing Barbara said?

- Max used to be a psychiatrist

before he was a writer.

- Now we already know that Gerald Hadleigh

was a transvestite or a transsexual
or whatever the term is.

Isn't it possible he
visited a psychiatrist?

And if that psychiatrist
were Max Jennings.

- What?

Jennings took what Hadleigh told him

and put it in a book?

- The Far Away Hills.

Gerald Hadleigh was never married.

His life was a complete sham.

The photograph of the
dead wife was just a prop.

And he probably hid that
himself because he knew

Max Jennings might see it.

- But Hadleigh was afraid of Jennings!

- No.

That's what Amy thought he was saying.

But Hadleigh was afraid of
being left alone with Jennings.

He was frightened of what he, Hadleigh,

might do to him.

Think about it, Troy.

What would you do if you told someone

a professional healer, a friend,

all your innermost secrets,

your entire life history,

and they turned it into
a bestselling book.

What would you do?

- I'd kill him.

- Exactly.

And that's what Hadleigh did.

- And you want a drink?

I'll get you a drink!

- We'll never know exactly how he did it.

But after Max Jennings went back

into the house, when the
two were finally alone,

that must have been when it happened.

Laura Hutton was outside
when Jennings came out.

She told us he took his time getting

into the car, she thought he was drunk.

She was wrong.

He'd been poisoned and was
feeling the first effects.

- So Gerald Hadleigh killed Max Jennings.

But did Jennings kill Hadleigh?

- No.

I don't think so.

- Laura Hutton saw Brian Clapper there

and he saw someone else,

a third figure approaching the house.

- But who was it?

- It was whoever killed Gerald Hadleigh.

- Sir.

- More drag!

- What a surprise.

- We found this in the same room, sir.

- It's the same paper
Honoria Lyddiard had.

- Another copy, yeah.

- He received two commendations.

He would have been an Admiral,

I'm sure of it.

There.

- First in Europe, and then Turkey.

- Antalya!

- What?

- It's a port in Turkey.

I must have been blind!

She folded this over
before she gave it to me!

- It's the Leicester.

- Not the ship, Troy.

Use your eyes, down there!

Look, look.

- Well, who are they?

- That's Ralph Lyddiard.

Same face we saw in his wife's photograph.

- And the other.

- It's Gerald Hadleigh.

- Liam, the character in the novel,

spent time in Turkey.

But we now know that Liam
was actually Gerald Hadleigh.

- Which means Gerald
Hadleigh was in Turkey too.

- Exactly.

Which is where he met Ralph Lyddiard.

- Antalya!

- Yes.

That's what sent Honoria scuttling round

to Hadleigh's house.

She was besotted with
her brother, and here,

suddenly, there's someone in the village

who actually knew him.

- What are you doing?

- I was getting a case, Honoria.

To pack.

Whose are these clothes?

This dress is covered in blood!

- G.H.

This is Gerald's case, isn't it.

- Honoria killed Gerald Hadleigh.

Of course she did.

Amy Lyddiard almost gave her away

when she contradicted her.

- When?

- When we first asked Honoria

about her movements on
the night of the murder,

do you remember what she said?

- I retired straight away.

I had a bad headache.

- Retired didn't mean go to bed,

which is what I thought it meant.

Amy actually told us the next time we met.

Amy went to bed.

Honoria retired to the study.

And then she went out
again a few minutes later.

- Back to Gerald Hadleigh's.

- Well yes.

- I couldn't believe he'd known my Ralph.

My darling Ralph.

I'd tried to see him
earlier that afternoon

but he wasn't there.

And I couldn't talk with
all those people there.

- So you went back that night.

- Yes.

I had to see him.

I couldn't wait.

- Gerald?

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

So disgusting.

So beneath contempt.

But I asked him about Ralph.

I had to know.

That's what I'd come for.

And do you know what he told me?

Do you know what he said?

- Yes I knew him!

Your dearest darling Ralph!

We were lovers Honoria!

I had him and he had me.

Now get out of my house!

- No! (groans)

- She killed him and
then she must have taken

all the clothes.

She didn't want anyone to know.

- She must be as mad as a hatter.

- Hatters, Troy, very sane people compared

to Honoria Lyddiard.

- You should have died too.

Not just him.

(screaming)

- Oh God!

No!

What have you done?

It's Ralph.

You've brought him in here!

You're mad!

- Jump!

Go on, the window!

Jump!

- No.

I'm not gonna do it for you!

- I'll fight!

There'll be marks.

They'll know it was you!

- Do you think I care?

I just want to see you die!

(siren blaring)

(screaming)

- Sir?

- She said she wanted me to die.

She was waiting.

It was AIDS, wasn't it.

That's what killed Ralph.

She knew, and she hoped,
and she was waiting for me.

- Go on, get her out of here.

(birds chirping)

- Don Pedro forgot all his lines.

And Brad.

- Oh no.
- Called the whole thing off.

- Cully!

- Dad.

Did you see Dr Preston?

- Yes, I did.

- It's not serious, is it?

- I'm afraid it is.

Yes.

- It seems I have an allergy.

- An allergy?

What to?

- Oh no!

- Oh yes!

- What?

- Cats.

- Kilmowski.

- Yes.

- You mean, all that
scratching and sneezing?

(laughing)
- It's not funny!

- No, no, I'm sorry. (laughs)

- Cully!

- You're not gonna take
this out on me are you, Dad?

- Oh yes, I'm gonna make your life hell.

(soft music)