All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S03E03 - Judgement Day

(soft music)

- I don't want you to go.

Why do you have to go?

- Come on, Anna.

We talked about this.

It's mummy and daddy's anniversary.

- I don't care!

I don't want you to go!

- We'll be home later.

Don't you want us to have a good time?

- No!

- Are you off then?

- We're just going.

You'll be all right with Mrs. Foster.

You'll have a nice time.

- No I won't!

(dish shattering)

- Oh, you naughty child!

You go straight up to your room.

You'll watch no television tonight!

- I don't care.

I hate you!

- You just wait until
your parents come home.

Just wait until I tell them!

(gentle music)

(dramatic music)

(ominous music)

(faint talking)

- It is unpleasant, but not true.

That's what he had requested
although at the scene.

He liked the sound of the circus.

- [Narrator] The cold light
of dawn revealed a grim sight.

In addition, it had brought
with it a note of tragedy.

The owner of the car had been discovered.

His remains had been
found beneath the debris

of a gutted caravan.

- Well there's nothing here to indicate

how the fire started.

I think the security cam must've gone off.

(dramatic music)

- No, no, no!

(screaming)

(soft music)

- What is it?

- I don't know.

- Mrs. Foster?

Mrs. Foster? (screams)

- Annabel!

Thank God!

Oh thank God!

(soft music)

- Come on, Ray, you don't wanna be late!

- I'll be back in an hour.

- I don't know why you're
wasting your time going.

They're all snobs.

- It's for the village, Jack.

That's why I'm going.

(soft music)

- Marcus!

It's five to 11.

We ought to be on our way!

- Righty-ho!

- Marcus!

- I'm coming!

I'm coming!

Don't blow a fuse!

- Bye mum.

- Where are you going, dear?

- I dunno.

Just out.

I'll see you.

- There, that's a good boy.

That feels much better.

Is he still limping?

- Not really.

- Well, we'll keep him on the pain killers

a bit longer but I think
he's going to be OK.

There's a good boy, Jacky.

- His name's Lucky.

- Right.

- If you don't mind removing
your hand from that dog's arse,

Gordon darling, it's time to go.

- We come to the main item on the agenda.

The Perfect Village Competition.

As we all know, it's
only four days away now.

- It's July 10th!

- That's it.

And let's not forget the first prize

of 5,000 ponds that's at stake.

- We could rebuild the
village hall with that.

- Absolutely, Ray.

So we're leaving nothing to chance.

Bella?

Thank you.

The tent's going up on
the green the day before

so lunch will be served at one.

- I've got all the food
sorted, Mr. Devere.

We're going to have sausages,

chicken wings and pasties.

I'll do the village proud.

- And at the same time I'll be serving

some of Marcus's home-made wine.

- The apricot and elderberry has turned

out absolutely tip-top this year.

- It'll certainly make an impression.

- Entertainment!

A musical gala on the green
to accompany lunch, Mary?

- Nothing to worry about there, Marcus.

I've been working with
the village orchestra.

In fact we've been going
at it hammer and tongs.

- Well, not literally, I hope!

(laughing)

- It's important to show these judges

that there's still some young
blood in Midsomer Mallow.

- Absolutely!

- I don't suppose we know yet
who the judges actually are.

- Well, Rosemary Furman, the
editor of Country Matters

is going to be one and
I think Frank Mannion

has agreed to join the panel.

- Frank Mannion.

- He does that gardening
programme on television.

"Along the Garden Path."

- That's right.

And I believe Annabel Croft

has also been asked to join them.

And there's also a member of the public.

- Oh?
- Yes.

They ran a competition and someone,

I've got the name here somewhere, anyway,

the winner will be
asked to join the panel.

She'll probably be the
easiest one to impress.

- Bung her an extra sausage
and her vote can be in the bag.

- So you're going to be a judge?

What's the first prize?

- That was the first prize, Tom.

It means a week away from home.

First class travel.

And a big dinner at the end.

- Away from home for a week.

- Don't worry.

I've already phoned Cully.

She's coming tomorrow.

- She's not working?

- She is, as a matter of fact.

She's writing a book.

- A book?

That's different.

- It's something to do with the theatre.

I'm sure she'll tell you all about it.

- The Perfect Village Competition.

I don't suppose any of
the Midsomer Villages

made it through to the final did they?

- There is one, yes.

Midsomer Mallow.

Tom, don't tell me, you're investigating

some grisly murder there.

- No, no.

It's very pretty quiet at the
minute, apart from one thing.

We've had a spate of burglaries.

- I've got to go.

- Oh, Petey, have you?

- Yeah.

And so have you.

- Why?

Where are you going?

- I've got business.

- There's someone else, isn't there.

- No.

- I couldn't bear it if there was.

(car horn honks)
I really couldn't.

- You'd better get home.

Your mum and dad would kill
you if they knew you were here.

- They'd kill you first.

- Greyfriars House.

- Peter, are you sure about this?

- You said he was going to be in London.

Not back until late.

- I mean.

It's too much too soon.

We're going to get caught.

- You losing your bottle, Jack?

- No.

- I hope not.

Come on.

(dramatic music)

(glass breaking)

- What is it?

- I thought I heard something.

- Leave that!
(bowl shattering)

- There's nothing here.

Let's go.

- You old fart!

Right, let's go.

Piece of cake.

- How many is this?

Six?
- Seven.

- Seven burglaries in two months,

that's an epidemic, Troy.

Who is it this time?

- His name's Edward Allardice.

He's a retired actor.

Lives here alone.

- Big house for one man.

And where was he last night?

- You can ask him yourself.

He's inside.

- I had to go to London yesterday.

A meeting with my accountant.

I didn't get back 'til one in the morning.

It's almost as if they knew.

- Did you tell anyone
about your travel plans,

Mr. Allardice?

- No.

I keep myself to myself.

Oh, I may have mentioned something to Ray.

Dorset, the butcher.

You can't go in there without chatting.

- And there was no-one in the house.

- My wife died some years
ago and I live alone.

But I may be able to help you.

- Sir?

- When I was driving
home, I saw a white van.

I was quite near the house
and it was doing a tonne.

That's why I noticed it.

- I don't suppose you got--
- A registration number?

Well, yes.

I got most of it.

M 293.

Then an F, or it could have
been an E, something W.

It was going too fast.

- That may be very helpful, sir.

- If ever I get my hands
on the little bastards

that did this, I'll kill them!

It wasn't just what they stole.

It was the damage they did.

That portrait was painted by Lucien Blake.

And the bowl they smashed,

it was given to me by Olivier.

Irreplaceable.

- We'll do what we can, sir.

- If you don't mind my asking, sir,

how do you know there were two of them?

- I'm sorry?

- You said little bastards.

Plural.

It could have been just one.

- Well, I assumed.

They always come in pairs, don't they?

- You don't think he was lying, do you?

About being out of the house?

Those were made last night.

I've checked them.

They don't match his car.

They could belong to the white van.

- Quite possibly, Troy.

But these tracks are quite clearly turning

that way, aren't they.

But surely the London road is over there.

- So if Allardice was coming from London.

- He couldn't have seen the van.

- So he is lying.

- Or obfuscating, certainly.

- You must be the police officers,

come to investigate the break-ins?

- Yes, sir.

You must know a lot about
the village, working here.

- I suppose I do.

- Has there been anyone in here who's new

to the area?

Someone perhaps showing an interest

in other peoples' movements?

- No.

The last person to come to
the village was Mr. Allardice.

That was quite recent.

Five, six years ago.

- No-one more recent than that?

- Well.

I don't like to point
the finger at anyone.

- Go on.

- You might want to talk
to Peter Drinkwater.

He's Mary Drinkwater's
nephew, great nephew.

He came back to live in the
village earlier this year.

Lived with her for a
while and then he moved

into the old farm.

Windywhistle Farm.

It's deserted now.

- Peter Drinkwater.

- Young lad.

A bit on the wild side.

- Peter Drinkwater.

That name rings a bell.

- Do you want to go talk to him?

- Unless you have other plans.

- Why did you have to do that?

Why did you have to talk
about Peter that way?

- I could have said more than I did.

- He's my friend, dad!

- He's trouble and he's
leading you into trouble.

I wish he'd never come here.

Sometimes I want to...

- What?

- Nothing.

- What time is it?

- 12.

- Gordon will be back soon.

It's his afternoon surgery.

You've got to go.

- All right.

- You don't care, do you.

- What.

- Stay or go.

You don't care.

But maybe that's what I
like about you, Peter.

You're so bloody heartless.

You're like an animal.

- Watch it.

- I'm complimenting you.

If Gordon found out about you,

he'd neuter you, do you know that?

He's good at that.

- If you don't like Gordon,

why do you talk about him so much?

- Good question.

Don't ever change.

I like you just the way you are.

- And you know what I like about you?

- What?

- Your generosity.

- I hadn't forgotten.

Are you still seeing that girl?

The Devere girl?

Caroline?

I wonder what she'd say

if she knew about me?

- Get lost, Laura.

Just piss off, all right?

You start threatening me,

you can look for your 50
quid thrills elsewhere.

- Peter.
- Maybe you should try Jack.

He'll do it for 30 and
he might even enjoy it.

- God!

You little bastard!

- Windywhistle Farm.

If you wanted a place to
stash some stolen loot,

this would be it.

- All these out-buildings.

It's got to be him.

- Yes, here he is now.

- You're Peter Drinkwater?

- And you're police, aren't you.

- Detective Sergeant Troy.

Causton CID.

This is Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

- It's the same smell.

You can always tell.

- Would you mind stepping out of the car?

We'd like to talk to you
about with a break-in

at Greyfriars House last night.

- Would you?

And what if I don't want to talk to you?

- You realise we could
be back here in a couple

of hours with a warrant to
search this entire place?

- Search it.

I don't give a damn.

- Charming.

- Yes.

- Do you want to take a look around?

- No, Troy.

We'll do this one by the book.

Let's get the warrant first.

- Hello.

What's for lunch?

I've been out walking
and I'm stivvy starving!

- What is it?

- Peter Drinkwater.

- What?

- You're seeing him again, aren't you.

- No!

- Don't lie to me, Caroline!

I found these in your room.

- Mummy!
- Letters.

Love letters.

Disgusting letters!

How could you?

- You shouldn't be searching in my room!

- That boy is a snake-in-the-grass.

He's nothing but trouble.

And you will listen to me.

- No, I won't!

I'm 20 years old now.

I can do what I like.

- Look, maybe I should go
and have a talk with him.

Just the two of us.

Mano a mano.

- No, daddy.

No!

I love Peter more than
anyone in the whole world.

We're going to live together.

And there's nothing you can do!

- Oh, good afternoon, Caroline.

Is something the matter?

- No.

- You know, I was talking
about you only this morning.

I was rather hoping I'd bump into you.

- Mrs. Brierly.

- I was talking to Peter Drinkwater.

I know he's a friend of yours.

But perhaps there's
something you ought to know

about him and I'm going to tell you.

- Sir.
- Shh.

I thought I knew that name.

Peter Drinkwater.

He's got a record.

Nothing very serious.

Two police cautions.

Taking and driving away.

Shoplifting.

Oh?

A six month suspended
sentence for assault.

- And you think he's
graduated to burglary?

- What have you got?

- The registration number of the van.

I had to go round in circles a bit

but I finally got there.

M 923 FBW.

A white Renault Traffic,
registered to Ray Dorset

in Midsomer Mallow.

- Oh, Ray Dorset, the butcher?

- He has a 21 year old son.

Jack Dorset.

I think it may have been
him working in the shop.

- And the shop is the centre
of gossip in any village.

People tell Ray when
they're going to be away

for the weekend.

- And Jack tells his mate Peter.

- I think so.

Who shall we go for first?

- Peter.

He was an obnoxious little sod.

Let's start with him.

- Oh right.

(disjointed classical music)

- Right, everyone!

Can you calm down please.

Thank you!

Now, this is our last rehearsal

before judgement day and
you all know how important

it is that we make the right impression.

(horn toots)

Thank you, Richard.

I want lots of energy, lots of pazazz.

Now, everyone together now.

One, two, three, one two and.

(bright classical music)

(sobbing)

- You finish it.

I'm going out.

- Where are you going?

- Just out.

(frantic music)

(knocking)

- Jack?

What?

(groaning)

- That was the van!

M923 FBW!

Do you want me to go after it?

- No That was the butcher,
Ray Dorset, driving.

We'll catch up with him later.

Get yourselves round the back.

I don't want him getting away.

- Sir.

There was a computer
on the inventory taken

from the Allardice house.

- Oh, I wish they were
all as easy as this.

Now all we need to do
is find Mr. Drinkwater.

- Sir!

- Oh, for Heaven's sake!

- Nasty way to go.

- Yes.

- Quick though.

One of the prongs cracked a rib and went

straight into the heart.

It must have taken
quite a lot of strength.

- Are you saying it was a man?

- Or a very strong woman.

Skewered him like a spud
on Guy Fawkes night.

I wouldn't be surprised if it shattered

the spleen and the kidney too.

- Right.

- Certainly one for the books though.

Death by pitchfork!

Personally, I've never
seen anything like it.

- How long ago did it happen?

- Well, the body's still warm to the touch

and there's no sign of rigour mortis.

Half an hour to an hour tops.

Shame you didn't get here a bit sooner.

- Yes.

- What did you want him for?

- Burglary.

- Well, I suppose that's
rough justice then.

Breaking and entering.

That's what someone did to him.

You mind if I take him?

- Yeah.

You go ahead.
- Right.

Cyril!!

- Wait a minute!

What's that Troy?

- Credit card, sir.

- So it is.

- Name of Gordon Brierly.

I suppose it must have been stolen.

- Do you think this has got anything to do

with the break-ins, sir?

- It's hard to say.

We need to know more about the late

Peter Drinkwater, don't we?

- He had an aunt living in the village.

- He also had an accomplice.

- We have an eye-witness who places

your father's van at the
scene of at least one

of the houses broken into.

We've also recovered
several of the missing items

from Windywhistle Farm and I must warn you

that we'll have those
checked for fingerprints.

- They were using my van?

- Yes.

- Okay, I'll tell you
what you want to know.

But on my own.

- If you wouldn't mind, sir.

- Jack?
- It's all right, dad.

We were at school together.

Pete and me.

The break-ins was his idea.

- But you had a good
job, with your father.

Why did you get involved with him?

- I hate the bloody job.

Bowing and scraping behind
the bloody meat counter.

That's no life.

- So how many were there?

- What?

- Burglaries.

- Too many.

I told him that.

But he wouldn't listen.

- What you argued.

- No.

You couldn't argue with him.

He wouldn't listen.

- Would you say he had any enemies?

- Who hated Peter Drinkwater?

It'd be easier to ask who didn't!

- You had no idea what he was up to?

- Of course not.

If I'd known I'd have--

- What?

- I'd have stopped him.

- I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid

I'm going to have to charge
your son with various offences

connected with the break-ins.

- It wasn't his fault.

He didn't know what he was doing.

It was that other one.

- Peter Drinkwater.

- You think Peter Drinkwater
led your son astray?

That why you went to
see him this afternoon?

- What?

- We saw you just before three o'clock.

We were driving to Windywhistle Farm.

You passed us on the road.

- I wasn't up at the farm.

- No, I was making my deliveries.

I was on my way to Causton.

- So you drove past the
entrance to the farm.

- Yeah, but I didn't stop.

- You didn't see anything?

- There was a car coming out of the yard.

A Renault.

Bright red.

One of the newer models.

- I don't suppose you got a number?

- No.

And I didn't see who
was driving it either.

It had tinted windows.

Mr. Devere's got a Renault.

It's bright red.

It's got tinted windows.

Perhaps you should be talking to him!

- Screamy.

That's one, four, five.

six, seven, eight, 10,
14, plus 15, 16, 17.

18, 21 and 50 for using all my letters.

71.

- That's jolly good.

It's not actually a word though, is it?

Screamy?

- What?

- You could have scream.

- It is a word.

Some films are screamy.

It's in the dictionary.

- Well, if you say so.

- Have you heard?

- What?

- He's been killed.

Peter.

Everyone's talking
about it in the village.

The police are up at the farm.

They say he was stabbed.

- What?

- Caroline.

- I thought I loved him.

But I didn't.

And now he's dead.

And I don't care.

But you got what you wanted.

Both of you.

So I hope you're glad.

(soft music)

- Hello dad!

- Hello you!

What news then, of the judging?

- They've booked us into the Castle Hotel

at Wisden and the first
meeting's on Friday.

- Do we know the other judges?

- There's Rosemary
Furman and Frank Mannion.

- Along the Garden Path.

- And they were going to get Annabel Croft

but at the last minute
she's let them down.

They've managed to get Samantha Johnstone

to step in.

- She writes the Sister Claire Chronicles.

Life in an English village seen

through the eyes of a retired nun.

- How long are you going to be away?

- Only a week.

We're in somewhere
called Little Kirkbridge

the day after tomorrow
and then Midsomer Mallow

the day after that.

- Midsomer Mallow?

I was there myself today.

- Another burglary?

- No.

I think we found the burglar.

- You made an arrest yet?

- No.

- I thought you just said
that you'd got the burglar.

- Yes.

But I'm afraid that he
didn't have very much to say.

- Morning sir.

- Morning, Troy.

- That looks like the
red Renault Ray Dorset

told us about.

- Oh.

Lothlorian.

That's Lord of the Rings that?

- J.R. Tolkein.

- Oh.

I never read it.

I started "The Hobbit" once.

- And?

- It's all dwarves and fairies.

I like books with a bit more, you know.

- I can imagine.

- Peter Drinkwater?

Of course I knew him.

Everyone in the village
knew him and probably

wished they didn't.

- I can't imagine why
you would wish to talk

to us about him, Chief Inspector.

- Well, I'd be very interested to know,

when was the last time you saw

Peter Drinkwater, Mrs. Devere?

- The last time?

I couldn't tell you!

A week ago?

- I saw him lounging
outside the Crooked Billet.

Maybe last Thursday.

I didn't speak to him though.

- So neither of you have seen
him in the last 24 hours.

- No.

- Then how would you explain the fact

that your car was seen
leaving Windywhistle Farm

just before three o'clock
yesterday afternoon?

- Exactly the same time
Drinkwater was killed.

- What?

- I don't suppose anybody
else drives your car.

Your daughter?

- She doesn't drive.

- Then it must have been one of you.

- Yes it was.

Actually, it was me.

- Marcus?

- Who was it who actually saw me?

Just out of interest.

- Ray Dorset.

The butcher.

He was on his way to Causton.

- Ah.

Rather landed me in it, hasn't he.

That's not like Ray.

- So you did see Peter Drinkwater.

- No.

No, I didn't.

I did go to see him.

But he wasn't there.

At least, I tooted, you know.

But there was no answer.

So I drove away.

- May I ask why did you go to see him?

- Well, it's a bit personal really.

The fact is, he's been
carrying on with Caroline.

- Our daughter.

- I wanted to see what
his intentions were.

I thought we ought to
have a chat, mano a mano.

Those were my exact words, weren't they?

- Do you remember what time you left home?

- It was about, half two.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off in the afternoon.

And that is when I went.

- It was half past two.

Yes.

- But you didn't see anyone at the farm.

- Only Ray.

Yes, he drove past.

- You certain it was Ray driving the van?

- Yes, he had the window down.

He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

- You can't really think
my husband had anything

to do with what happened, Mr. Barnaby.

He was with the National
Westminster for 37 years.

- Yes I worked in the city.

- This is your daughter?

Caroline?

- Yes.

That was taken on her 18th birthday.

- Yes, very nice.

I wonder, would it be possible
to have a word with her.

Do you know where she is now?

- She has a summer job.

At the Causton Nursery.

- Children?

- Flowers.

- You're not looking very
happy today, are you!

No!

You're never going to go to a nice home

if you don't cheer up a bit.

I always talk to the plants.

You know.

Like Prince Charles.

It helps them grow.

- When did you last see Peter Drinkwater?

- Peter?

I don't know.

I suppose it was the day before yesterday.

- Were the two of you in a relationship?

- I suppose Jack told you.

Peter told Jack everything.

Well, we were in a
relationship but it was over.

I ended it.

- Why did you do that?

- Because of Laura Brierly.

- Brierly.

- Yes.

Laura told me lots of things about Peter.

Private things.

But I knew she was telling the truth

and I didn't want to see him again.

- You were angry with him.

- I could have killed him.

But I didn't have to.

Because somebody did it for me.

(doorbell rings)

- Looks like the Brierly's are out, sir.

- Oh, we'll catch up with them later on.

In the meantime, Troy,
has it occurred to you,

that someone actually threatened
to kill Peter Drinkwater

while we were actually there?

"If I ever get my hands
on the little bastards

"who did this, I'll kill them."

- Edward Allardice.

- Yeah, let's take his
property back to him.

I want to know why he
lied about that white van.

- Or obfuscated, you mean?

- What I say is, I think we
ought to put it to a vote.

- The judges will be arriving
the day after tomorrow.

The question is, do we
call the whole thing off?

- What?

- No!

It's too late to cancel.

It's not just us.

It's the whole village.

- You don't think the fact

that we've just had a brutal
murder committed won't damage

our chances just a teeny bit?

- They don't need to know.

The judges.

Nobody needs to tell them.

- That's right.

- What do you think, Ms. Drinkwater?

- Well, I suppose I'm
thinking of the children.

- The village orchestra.

We've been rehearsing for months, well,

I know it was Peter who was killed.

My own flesh and blood.

I had to go and identify the body and...

- Steady on, old thing.

Shall I get you a drink?

- No, I'm all right.

Peter never did anything for the village.

and it seems to me,
that if we let his death

spoil Saturday, well, he's
still spoiling things,

even though he's gone.

So I'm afraid I agree with Ray.

- Well are we ready to put it to the vote?

Let's take the ayes first!

- I say this is a perfect village.

We have no reason to be ashamed.

- I'm with that.

- And me.

- Yes, I say we go on.

- But I say you're all crazy.

You can't have music and
chicken wings three days

after a murder.

- That's a no then.

- It doesn't make any difference.

Ray, Bella, Mary and me.

That's a majority.

- And I'm afraid I'm
with the others, Laura.

So the ayes have it.

- Judgement day goes ahead!

- I very much appreciate
this, Mr. Barnaby.

- Oh, just look upon it as
part of the service, sir.

- What about the rest of it?

- It's at the station.

You'll have to come in and sign for it.

- Well, I suppose it's all
ended fairly satisfactorily.

- Yes.

Though not for Peter Drinkwater.

Would you say?

- The man who broke in.

Yes, I'm sorry.

- You did say you wanted
to kill him though.

- Oh, that was just words.

Anyway, I didn't know who he was.

- I was wondering.

You say you saw the white van.

You got part of the number

but you didn't recognise the van itself.

though you must have seen it often

enough around the shop.

- What exactly are you suggesting,

Detective Chief Inspector?

- Are you sure you
weren't home that night?

- You could have been here.

You could have seen them.

- I told you.

I was in London.

- There was no-one else in the house?

- I live alone.

My wife, Jane, died in a car accident,

I was almost killed myself.

And I resent your questions.

In fact, if you don't mind,

I think I'd like you to leave.

Now.

(ominous music)

- It's all right.

They've gone.

But we have to be careful.

They might be coming back.

- Tom.

I really ought to get going.

- Oh yes.

- Have you seen the paper?

- Er, hasn't arrived yet.

Now, come on.

- Mum, we're going to be late.

- Are you sure about this, Cully?

I could have taken a cab.

- Goodbye Joyce.

- I'm quite nervous!

What do you think the
other judges will be like?

- Ed, this is Rosemary.

I'm phoning from the car.

We're going to have to do something

about the September cover.

Darling!

I said autumnal.

That doesn't have to mean bloody funereal.

No, I can't.

I'm out of London all week.

This sodding competition.

We're on the M40 now.

- The repeat-blooming shrub rose.

For me, it's the crowning
glory of any garden

and what better choice
than our old friend,

the English Cottage Rose,
a tough little fella,

with that lovely ripe fragrance,

- [Director] And, cut!

- That's it, Jeremy, darling.

I'm out of here.

I've got a taxi waiting.

See you in a week's time.

Toodle-oo!

(bright music)

(bottle clanks)

- Are you going in?

- Yes.

Do I look all right?

- You look fine.

Do you want me to come with you?

- No.

Thank you for the lift.

- Oh God!

Country hotels!

Teas Maids in the bedroom and teenaged

waiters with acne at reception.

I'm so glad you could make it, Samantha.

I thought you might be back in that,

what's that psychiatric place you go to?

The Retreat.

- No.

- Depression's a terrible thing.

Have you thought about Prozac?

- Oh.

Hello, Rosemary.

Samantha darling, how are you?

I heard you'd stepped
in at the last minute.

Love the new book, by the way.

I'm your biggest fan.

- Thank you.
- Hello, Frank?

I haven't seen you since?

- Since you fired me, Rosemary.

- Oh yes.

Well, you've got that
television programme now.

- And doing very nicely,

thank you very much.

- Yes.

I suppose it allows you to
pursue your interest in pansies.

- Hello?

- Joyce Barnaby?

- Yes.

- Hello.

My name's Rosemary Furman.

I'm editor of Country Matters

and this is Frank Mannion.

- How lovely to meet you.

I often watch your programme.

- Ah!

Now these are green fingers.

I'm sure that you're a wonderful gardener.

I can always tell.

- Well.

- And this is Samantha Johnstone.

- Nice to meet you.

- How do you do.

- Oh.
(phone rings)

- Sorry, phone.

- And do you read Country Matters.

- Yes.

- Do you live in the country?

- Yes.

Well, sort of.

I live in Causton.

- Causton.

I don't think I know it.

- It's in Midsomer.

- Oh yes!

Midsomer Mallow.

- That's not far from us.

- Coffee?

- No thank you.

Not for me.
- Right.

Well, I think we should get going.

Little Kirkbridge this afternoon.

Midsomer Mallow tomorrow.

Does anyone actually know
where Midsomer Mallow is?

- I see you're as well-informed
as ever, Rosemary.

Joyce here lives quite near it.

- Yes?

- It's a nice place.

I've passed through it once or twice.

- Huh.

I've had notes done on all the finalists.

We should take a look
at those before we go.

This coffee's cold.

Frank, why don't you see if you can get

your hands on a waiter.

- Fine.

- But not literally.

Right?

- Right.

- Ah, Troy.

Take a look at this.

This might interest you.

- What is it?

- Edward Allardice.

I've been checking up on him.

He was telling the truth
about that car crash.

It was six years ago.

He was driving.

And, according to that
report, he was drunk.

- So he killed his wife.

- Well, that's just the thing.

There's no death certificate.

Her name was Jane Rochelle.

She was in the same business, an actress

but as far as I can see, she survived.

- So where is she now?

- Good question.

- And why lie about it?

- I don't know.

Nothing in this case is straightforward.

Allardice threatens to kill Drinkwater

but it was Marcus Devere
who was there on the day.

- And Ray Dorset driving past.

- Did you check that out?

- Yeah, he was in Causton at three.

- There's still something wrong.

The van passing the farm.

I don't know.

And then there's this.

- Gordon Brierly's credit card.

You know we still haven't spoken to him.

- Then it's time we did.

- Gordon shouldn't be long.

He's over at the Poplar Farm.

They've had an outbreak of leptospirosis

in their dairy cattle.

Milk?
- No.

I'll have mine black, thanks.

- Mrs. Brierly, I'm afraid

I've got to ask you some questions.

About your relationship
with Peter Drinkwater.

- Aah.

- I understand that you and he were.

- Involved.

- Well, I suppose we might
as well be adult about this.

It was a question of supply and demand

and the truth is that Gordon's

always been a bit short
in the supply department,

if you know what I mean.

Milk?
- Please.

Did he come to the house?

- Occasionally.

- So it's quite possible
he could have taken

something of your husband's from here.

- Something of Gordon's?

Such as what?

- Laura.

- Gordon?

These are policemen.

They seem to have found
something of yours.

- A credit card, sir.

- Well, it's mine all right.

Of course.

Where did you find it?

- At Windywhistle Farm.

Peter Drinkwater was squatting there.

- What, and he'd taken my credit card?

- Unless you were up there yourself sir

and somehow managed to drop it.

- I haven't been up to Windywhistle Farm.

- I'd be interested to know

where you were around three
o'clock, sir, on Wednesday.

- Wednesday?

I was operating on Wednesday.

A cat had to be spayed.

- You didn't go out?

- No.

Laura was here.

She helped me.

We stayed in together.

- Why did you tell them that?

- What?

- You went out on Wednesday.

After you'd done the cat.

- Did I?

- Where did you go?

- No I didn't, Laura.

I was here all the time.

Do you understand?

I never left.

- The village of Little Kirkbridge.

Today you have it seen.

And we finish now where we began.

Upon the village green!

- Is he serious?

- To celebrate your visit

and to hope you'll come again,

our merry team of Morris Men

are here to entertain!

(bright music)

- Oh God!

(sneezes)

- We got longsword dancing,

clog and molly dancing,
a Norfolk Border dance

with sticks and finally
they all put on antlers

for what they called an
Abbots Bromley Horn Dance.

- How many points did you give them?

- Well, I thought they were rather fun.

But I don't think the others

were very impressed.

- What, the other judges?

How are they?

- Rosemary has hay fever.

Samantha, the writer, well
she's completely depressed.

Frank Mannion's all right although

I'm afraid after dinner
he disappeared with one

of the waiters.

- (laughing) Come home!

- I'll see you tomorrow.

Midsomer Mallow.

- Bye!

- Would you like to join me?

- Oh, yes.

All right.

- I'm so pleased to meet you.

I don't know whats happened to the others.

- Barman!

Two large whiskies, please!

What are you going to have?

- Why didn't you tell her?

- What?
- Mum!

About the murder.

- Aah.

Well, I don't really know.

It didn't seem to be fair somehow.

- To her or to the village?

- To both.

- I don't see how you
can be a perfect village

when you've got a homicidal maniac running

around with a pitch fork.

- Maybe that's my point.

I didn't want to influence her judgement .

- Anyway, I'm not entirely sure

it was a homicidal maniac.

- So who wanted to kill him?

- Quite a few people actually.

He was having an affair
with the vet's wife

and he was carrying on with
someone else's daughter.

- At the same time?

- And then there were the burglaries.

He was breaking into peoples' houses.

- Yes, but, you don't murder someone

just because they've burgled you do you?

- Ah, well, as a matter of fact,

one of the victims threatened
to do exactly that.

Edward Allardice, he said as much to me.

"If I ever get my hands
on the little bastards

who did this, I'll kill him."

- Edward Allardice?

The actor.

- Do you know him?

- Dad!

Edward Allardice did four
seasons at the Playhouse.

You know he was married to Jane Rochelle.

Back in the '60s she was said to be one

of the most beautiful women in the world.

She made a lot of films in America.

But then she died in a
car accident, I think.

Is he really living in Midsomer Mallow?

- Yep.

- Do you think I could meet him?

He could tell me
everything I need to know.

- Yeah, well.

I suppose it would be
all right but he's still

theoretically a suspect in
my murder investigation.

- Come on, dad.

He wouldn't murder a local delinquent!

He's a famous actor!

- Well, maybe not.

But someone did.

- Laura.

Aren't you ready yet?

It's five to seven.

- Gordon, what are these doing here?

- They need to go in the wash.

- This is blood!

- Yes.

- Well, why did you put them
in the cupboard like that?

And how did the blood get there?

Is it animal blood?

- Oh yes.

It's animal all right.

Nasty little creature.

It's all right now.

I put it out of its misery.

Now let's go.

I don't want to be late.

(light music)

- All right then.

- Is that straight?

- Is it straight?

- That's fine.
- Yep?

(doorbell rings)

- Yes?
- Mr. Allardice.

I'm writing a book about
the Causton Playhouse.

I just found out that you live here and--

- No, no, I'm sorry.

I'm not really interested.

- You met my father.

Tom Barnaby.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

He was here.

- Yes.

He came about the burglary.

- Yes.

- Very well.

The police bought back rest
of my property this morning.

I'm very grateful to your father.

There was nothing of any
great financial value.

But some of it was sentimental.

- You heard what happened?

To the man that broke in?

- Yes.

He must have had a lot of enemies,

someone like that.

It seems he had one too many.

- This is Hamlet.

The 1955 production.

- Yes.

Olivier directed it.

I was Laertes to his Hamlet.

He set it--

- In a dolls house with just seven actors.

- Yes that's right.

Yes.

He said he wanted to get
to the core of the play.

Of course, really he wanted
more stage time for himself.

- I'd like to have seen it.

- Well, I imagine you'd
have been too young.

Well, how can I help you?

- I'm writing a book about the Playhouse

and I wondered if I could interview you.

- I'm not really interested
in being interviewed.

It's been a long time now since

I was in the public eye.

- Six years.

I know, you retired.

- After the accident.

I was quite badly hurt.

And of course, my wife was...

- I know, I'm sorry.

- Still, I might be able to help you

with what you want to know.

I was at Causton for seven years.

That's one of the reasons I decided

to settle here.

But I'd rather you didn't
mention the name of the house.

I don't like people coming here.

Well, the public, you know.

- Whatever you say.

You don't mind if I tape this though?

Just for myself?

- No, no.

(disjointed classical music)

- Now is everyone ready?

They'll be here any minute.

- That's right, Alex.

I want all the glasses in lines.

Oh Ray!

That smells good.

- Thank you.

- I don't know how you
can go through with it.

So soon after.

- Miss him, do you?

Peter Drinkwater?

- Not particularly.

- Nor do I.

Nor does anyone.

But if you are missing him.

Here's something to remember him by.

This was his.

(horn honks)
- Here they are!

One, two, three and.

(bright classical music)

- Mrs. Furman?

- Yes.

- As head of the Midsomer
Mallow committee,

I'd like to welcome you
and your fellow judges

to Midsomer Mallow.

As you can see, we've
arranged perfect weather

for your visit to our perfect village.

- This is Joyce Barnaby.

One of our readers.
- How do you do?

- Frank Mannion.
- How do you do?

- And Samantha Johnstone.
- How do you do?

- I'm afraid it's a very tight schedule.

We only have an hour and a half.

- Excuse me.

- What is it, Mrs. Devere?

- I thought I saw someone take something.

- Marcus.

- Oh yes.

Yes!

Sorry.

I'd like to introduce Gordon Brierly

who has lived here and
been our vet for 11 years.

It'll be his job to give you
the full historical tour.

- From the third century
AD to the present day.

You're actually standing
on what we believe

was once a Saxon burial ground.

- Oh.

- Mummy?

Are you all right?

- I thought I saw someone.

Alex, did someone just take a bottle?

- No, Mrs. Devere.

- That's very strange.

Oh, well, we'd better get on with it.

- I thought we'd start with
the mediaeval alms houses,

small parts of which actually date back

to the 14th century.

- Ah, looks as if the
judges have already arrived.

See!

- Are we going to join the tour?

- No, no, no.

I've seen enough of this
village if you want the truth.

We'll wait 'till they get back.

- Thank you very much for talking to me.

- I enjoyed it.

I like the idea of your book.

We should talk again.
- I'd like that.

- Do you have a car?

- No, I'm walking into the village.

- Oh, well.

I'll come with you, if you don't mind.

I've got a bit of shopping to do.

- Sure.

- There was a time when
you didn't have to lock up.

Shall we?

(ominous music)

- [Cully] Actually, I'm an actress myself.

Or at least, I'm trying to be.

You must know how
difficult it is these days.

My boyfriend, Nico, was the
one who suggested that I--

- And that brings us back to the green

where we started and
also to the present day.

We have a fete here every summer,

a bonfire night, pancake
races and Easter Egg hunts.

Midsomer Mallow isn't just a village.

It's a community.

And in conclusion, I have to say

that we certainly find it perfect.

- Bravo!

Well said!

(group claps)

- Are you looking for someone?

- I'm not sure.

- Well, you must be hungry.

Stivvy starving after all that walking!

- We have home-made wine and all the food

is locally grown.

If you'd care to step this way.

- Mr. Barnaby.

- Mr. Devere!

- You're not, um.

I don't suppose your
investigation could wait

just a minute or two.

Well, I wouldn't want to obstruct justice

but thing is, that we're in the middle

of this competition.

- So I see.

- It was a committee decision to go ahead.

But we were rather hoping that no one

would actually mention the murder.

- You think it'll spoil your chances?

- Well, absolutely.

- Don't worry, Mr. Devere.

We're here in an unofficial capacity.

One of the judges is my wife.

- Mrs. Barnaby!

Of course!

- And I haven't said a word.

- Oh, well, that's all right then.

Come and have a sausage roll!

(bright classical music)

- Good afternoon, your honour.

Did you find Midsomer Mallow guilty

or not guilty?

- Tom!

- How is it?

- Terrible!

Can we go somewhere quieter.

- What?
- This music is so loud!

♪ In an English country garden ♪

- You're not serving beer, I suppose mate.

- No.

It's home-made wine.

- Oh, forget it.

- It was nice to meet you, Cully.

- And you.

I'm meeting my parents for a drink.

Do you want to join us?

- No thank you all the same.

These village events aren't for me.

- Bye then.

- I can't believe it!

Rosemary Furman hates the countryside.

She lives in London and
as far as I can make out,

she never leaves it.

- You mean she edits Country Matters

from the heart of Soho.

- Exactly.

She and Frank Mannion are at each other's

throats the whole time.

He can't stand her.

- Here's Cully!

Your mother's just been giving me

an insider's view of the judging panel.

- The only decent one
is Samantha Johnstone.

I think I'd better go and rescue her.

- Did you see him?
- Yeah.

He's nice.

But you were right about the house though.

It's creepy!

- Are you all right Samantha?

- No, no, I'm not all right.

I've just seen someone, in the street.

- In the street?

- Can you get me another of those, please?

- Would you like to come and meet Tom?

- No, no.

I'm all right.

- That lady over there.

She wants another drink.

- Hello.

I've always been a very big fan

of your programme, Mr. Mannion.

- Oh please, make that Frank.

Do you have a garden?

- Oh yes.

Nothing grand.

Just a little patch out the back.

- That's all you need!

- Thank you so much.

- But, but...

- God, that's disgusting.

What is it?

- Elderberry and apricot.

- Let's get back to the hotel.

I'm dying here.

- Not soon enough, my dear.

Boy.

- Are you all right darling?

- Yes.

I'm fine.

- I'm glad you're here.

- I think it's fun, daddy.

I bet we're going to win.

- Is she all right?

- Another glass of wine,
they'll have to carry her out.

I've never seen anyone--

- Dad.
- Mommy?

(groaning)

- Bella?

(glasses shattering)

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

- Let me through, please.

Police.

Stand back, sir.

Give her some air.

- How is she?

- Still breathing.

She must have had some sort of attack.

- (yells) Someone help me!

Someone do something!

- I'll need to run a
few tests but I'll bet

your bottom dollar it's cyanide.

Rat poison or something.

You see the skin?

Abnormally pink.

Her red cells have been oxygenated.

Classic.

- Cyanide.

That's got no taste has it?

- Right.

And one in four people
can't smell it either.

Not a lot of people know that!

Bung it in a glass of wine.

She wouldn't have known a thing.

So that's her.

Now, the other woman.

- Bella Devere.

- Yeah.

She was lucky.

She only took a sip.

- Where is she?

- The doctor sent her home.

There's not much he can do.

Plenty of water and rest.

That's about it.

- There was this little boy,

carrying a glass of wine
on a tray and she took it

and she drank it.

- Were there any other
glasses on the tray?

- What?

- How many glasses was
the little boy carrying?

- Just the one.

She took it and drank it.

- Laura.

- Leave me alone!

Just leave me alone!

Was it you?

Did you poison her?

You've gone mad, haven't you!

Just, go away!

- Are you all right?

- Tom!

The editor, Rosemary Furman.

- She's dead, I'm afraid.

Cyanide poisoning.

Would you believe it?

- But why?

Who would want to kill her?

- She might not have
been the target, Joyce.

A crowded tent.

Bottles and glasses everywhere.

- Was anyone else poisoned?

- Don't know.

A lot of the glasses were
broken when Bella fell over.

Look.

I've got a lot of work to do.

You go on home.

I'll catch up with you later, all right?

- I didn't see anything.

I had nothing to do
with the wine, you see.

I was looking after the food.

- Do you know who opened the wine?

- Mr. and Mrs. Devere.

And Caroline.

She saw him, you know.

Mrs. Devere.

Just after the judges arrived
and that lady introduced us.

That's when she saw someone.

In the tent.

- Doing what?

- Taking one of the bottles.

That's what she said!

- I didn't see who it was.

I'm not even sure if it was a man.

The sun was in my eyes and it was dark

in the tent.

- And he was taking a bottle.

- He had a bottle in his hand.

- Well perhaps he wasn't taking a bottle

but rather putting a new bottle

in with the others.

- I don't know.

- Did anyone else come over to the table

while you were serving?

- I was there.

And a little boy, Alex.

He came over with an empty
glass and mummy filled it.

- Was this before or after you took

a drink yourself, Mrs. Devere?

- I don't know.

I don't remember!

- I don't think this is the right time

to be asking my wife questions,

Chief Inspector.

- No, they have to.

They have to find who it was.

Because, don't you see?

It was me they were trying to kill!

- Biscuit?

I didn't kill him.

Peter Drinkwater.

I know that's what you're thinking.

I wanted to.

I saw him, leaving here.

That must have been when
he stole my credit card.

I know what the two of you were up to

and I think it's disgusting.

You're old enough to be his mother.

- But the trousers, the ones that I found.

- The blood came out of the surgery.

Cat's blood.

And the gold chain.

I bought that.

I know what you think of me, Laura.

It's how you've always thought of me.

But, just for a little while,

I wanted you to believe I had killed him.

I wanted you to think I'd had the strength

to shove a fork into him.

It amused me.

It made me feel good.

- Gordon?

- You disgust me.

I want you to move out of my house.

I don't want to see you again.

I don't want to know you.

- God Troy!

What a mess.

A poisoning in front of our very eyes

and we still don't know who it is;

who was meant to die.

- You think this is
connected with the death

of Peter Drinkwater, sir?

- It's got to be.

Unless it was an attack
on the whole village.

- To spoil their chances in the
Perfect Village competition.

- I don't think so.

So here we have Marcus and Bella Devere,

serving the wine.

Bella opens a fresh bottle.

- Which must have been
tampered with by whoever

it was she saw.

- Except you know what bothers me Troy?

The judges had just arrived.

The big four, including Joyce.

This is the moment
they've been waiting for.

So why look into the tent at all?

- According to your wife,

Samantha Johnstone asked
for a glass of wine

just before it happened.

- You spoke to Joyce?

- A few questions, yeah.

- Samantha Johnstone asked for wine.

- Yeah, she was here.

There was a 12-year-old boy.

Alex James.

He went and got it.

- And according to Caroline Devere,

he was only carrying a single glass.

- Laura Brierly says the same.

- Could it be that the poisoned wine

was intended for Samantha Johnstone?

- Perhaps.

But nobody even knew she was coming,

she was a replacement.

So why would anyone decide to kill her?

- Where is she now?

- Hello.

Reception?

I wonder if you could help me.

I need a telephone number.

It's in Gloucestershire.

(knocking)

One moment.

- Mr. Mannion.
- No.

I'm sorry.

No autographs now.

- I'm with the Causton
police, Mr. Mannion.

Are you leaving?

- Yes, I am leaving.

They try to bore us to
death in the first village

and when that doesn't work,

they try to poison us in the next.

Well I've had enough!

- Have you seen Samantha Johnstone?

- No I have not.

She's in Room 200.

Opposite mine.

(bell dings)

- Police.

Is that your pass key?

Thank you.

Damn!

I think we are a little late.

- Dead?

- She was stabbed.

- But--
- Dad, what's going on?

- I need you to think
very carefully, Joyce.

There is somebody extremely dangerous

in Midsomer Mallow.

First Peter Drinkwater.

Then what could have
been a mass poisoning.

And now this.

- And you think they're all connected?

- I think the first death
prompted the next two.

But I don't quite know how.

That's why I need your help.

- You were the last person to speak

to Samantha Johnstone in
the tent, Mrs. Barnaby.

- What did she say?

- I don't know.

The music was so loud I
can't be sure I heard.

She was worried about something.

Something or somebody she'd seen.

She said "I've just seen
someone, in the street."

That's what it sounded like.

- In the street.

- But there wasn't anybody in the street,

except from Cully.

And that man.

- Edward Allardice.

- Was he on the green?

- He didn't go anywhere
near the tent, dad.

He came in to do some shopping.

- Wouldn't the village
shop have been closed?

- Did you get to know
Samantha Johnstone at all?

- Yes, yes I did.

I had a drink with her.

We talked for about an hour.

- Did she tell you anything?

- Yes.

She was an unhappy person.

Clinically depressed.

In fact she hinted that she'd
tried to commit suicide.

She was committed for a while.

She spent six months at a
place called Sebdon Manor.

- Did she say where that was?

- It wasn't in Gloucestershire?

- Yes.

- She tried to make a phone call

to Gloucestershire just before she died.

- Just one last question Joyce.

Did any of the other judges know

about the murder of Peter Drinkwater?

- Oh, yes, we all did.

Frank Mannion had read
about it in the paper

and he made a joke about it on the bus.

- Right.

- Where are you going?

- Gloucestershire.

Don't wait up.

- Marcus?

- How are you feeling, old girl?

- I'm tired.

- I've brought you something.

- It's been quite a day!

- Yes.

- Are you sure you're feeling better?

- Yes.

I'm all right now.

- You gave me quite a
scare, Bella, my dear.

I love you.

You know that.

- Marcus?

- Everything's going to be all right.

(soft music)

- Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

I called you earlier.

- Mr. Barnaby?
- Yes.

- I'm Dr. Sellers.

Mark Sellers.

I head up the psychiatric staff.

How can I help you?

- I want to ask you about
one of your former patients.

Samantha Johnstone.

- Do you have some ID?

- Ah yes.

Thank you.

Detective Sergeant Tory.

- Troy.

- Ah yeah.

I have mild dyslexia.

Samantha Johnstone.

Yes, I remember her.

The writer.

Come in.

You have to understand that Sebdon Manor

is not a psychiatric hospital

in the strictest sense.

Very few of our patients have actually

been sectioned and those
that have are usually

very close to the end of
their terms of sentence.

They see us more as a
sort of halfway house.

- Had Samantha Johnstone been sectioned?

- No.

She committed herself.

An attempted, suicide.

Yes, this was 22 years ago.

Marital breakdown, lack
of self-esteem leading

to alcoholism and problems with dogs.

Drugs.

- How long was she here?

- 18 months.

She arrived just before
I did which is probably

why I remember her.

- Did she get to know anyone?

Was there anyone she was
particularly close to?

- It's funny you should ask that.

I was just about to say, yes.

She formed quite a close
friendship with one

of our most notorious residents.

Annabel Weston.

I don't suppose the name
means anything to you?

- Please, go on.

- The Weston case was
very famous in its time.

1955.

Annabel was seven years old then.

- I don't want you to go.

Why do you have to go?

- Come on Anna.

We talked about this.

- Her parents were
wealthy and hard-working.

The father was an accountant.

They had a big place near the coast.

A charmed life.

It's probably what made
it all so shocking.

- You'll be all right with Mrs. Foster.

- No I won't.

(dish breaking)

- You naughty child!

You go straight--
- It was one night in June.

Nobody knows exactly what happened except

that the child must have had some sort

of argument with the housekeeper.

A Mrs. Foster.

Anyway, the child went
down into the kitchen,

she pulled out a knife and,

well, she butchered the housekeeper.

Stabbed her seven or eight times.

- No, no. (screams)

- Then she went to bed and she was asleep

when her parents got back.

- Thank God.
- The knife was being held

by one of her stuffed toys.

There was never any
question that she'd done it.

She admitted as much to her parents.

She didn't like the housekeeper,

so she killed her.

She had no idea she'd done anything wrong.

- And they sent her here.

- Oh no, no.

She went to various secure institutions

before going to Broadmoor.

She was there for over 10 years.

She certainly wasn't a
threat to anyone anymore

so she eventually ended up here.

- And Samantha Johnstone.

- More or less took her under her wing.

There was something of the
child still about Annabel.

Both her parents were dead by this point.

Samantha became something of a surrogate

here in the Retreat.

- I'm sorry?

- What?

- What did you call this place?

- The Retreat?

Sebdon Manor sounds so prim and Victorian.

Everyone here calls it The Retreat.

We like to think of
ourselves as a shelter,

one step away from the real world.

- We've got to get back
to Midsomer Mallow.

- Annabel Weston.

- She's there, Troy.

Cully had told me as much.

Homicidal maniac running
about with a pitchfork!

And for once Cully was right.

- Where are you going?

- Greyfriars House.

I left my tape recorder there.

See you later.

- Rosemary Furman's death was a mistake.

The poisoned wine was aimed
at Samantha Johnstone.

- Because Annabel Weston knew her.

- Because Samantha Johnstone
knew Annabel Weston!

Think about it.

A murder has taken place a few days

before in Midsomer Mallow.

And no ordinary murder.

Psychotic.

A pitchfork through the chest.

- Annabel Weston is living in the village.

- Under another name, right.

And the one person who knows her secret

is suddenly right there, in front of her.

The timing couldn't have been worse.

One word from Samantha
and Annabel is exposed.

So Samantha has to die.

- Hello?

Is anyone there?

Hello?

(ominous music)

- Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Who are you?

- Cully?
- I'm sorry.

- This is Cully Barnaby.

The girl I told you about.

- I'm sorry, Cully.

I didn't mean to frighten you.

But I've been so afraid.

- I thought I heard someone

and I picked up the knife.

- It's all right, my dear.

- Its ever since we were burgled.

- No, no, I'm sorry.

I shouldn't be here.

I just came back to collect my tape.

- Cully.

Let me introduce you.

This is Jane Rochelle.

My wife.

- Mr. Barnaby.

Yes, come in.

I'm afraid Bella isn't here.

- You know it's her we've come to see.

- Oh yes.

- Bella.

Short for Annabel.

- Yes.

- You knew she'd killed Peter Drinkwater.

- I suppose I'd better tell you the truth.

But it won't make a jot of difference now

to Bella or to me.

Yes, I knew.

- She told you?

- She didn't have to.

I knew at once.

As soon as I heard he'd been found dead.

- You knew who she was.

When you married her.

- Annabel Weston, yes.

Yes, I knew.

She'd answered an ad that
I put in the newspaper.

Lonely Hearts.

And I fell in love with her.

Just like that.

Of course, I soon found
out the truth about her.

It couldn't be avoided.

She was still under supervision then.

Reporting to the Home Office.

But it didn't matter
to me, what she'd done

when she was a child.

I loved her.

- So it was her driving your car that day

at Windywhistle Farm.

- Yes.

- It had to be one or the other, Troy.

The daughter or the mother.

- You knew I was lying.

- Yes.

- Jack?

(knocking)

What?

- Peter Drinkwater was killed
shortly before three o'clock.

The killer was seen, leaving the farm

a few minutes later by Ray Dorset,

who was on his way to Causton.

You tried to pretend
it was you, didn't you?

But I knew you were lying.

It just took me a little
while to work out why.

- You certain it was Ray driving the van?

- Yes, he had the window down.

He was smoking a cigarette.

Ray smokes all the time.

- Ray Dorset was driving to Causton,

on the same side of the
road as the farm entrance.

So the driving seat would
be on the other side,

away from the farm.

There was no way you'd be able to see

if the window was open or closed,

or for that matter if
the driver was smoking.

- Yes, I was having to
think on my feet rather.

- And there was something else you said.

Troy asked you what time you left.

- It would be about, half two.

You'd just gone up for your nap.

She always dozes off in the afternoon.

And that's when I went.

- It was half past two.

Yes.

- That business about Bella going upstairs

for her nap.

You weren't asking her to
corroborate your story.

You were purposefully
trying to give her an alibi.

She was asleep.

You were in the car.

You were trying to protect her.

- Yes.

- But why did she kill him?

What was the point?

- She thought he was
going to marry Caroline.

She couldn't let it happen.

- Very devoted mother.

See all the photographs, Troy?

Unfortunately she carried her devotion

a little too far.

- She poisoned Rosemary
Furman and herself!

- Yes.

Bella had no idea that Samantha Johnstone

had been chosen to be a judge.

If she had, she'd never
have shown her face

on the green.

It must have been a
great shock when she saw

Samantha getting off the bus.

- Mrs. Furman?

- Yes.

- As Head of the Midsomer Mallow Committee

I'd like to welcome you
and your fellow judges

to Midsomer Mallow.

As you can see, we have arranged perfect--

- Excuse me.

- What is it, Mrs. Devere?

- I thought I saw someone take something.

- She was improvising.

All she knew was that she had to get away

from Samantha before she was recognised.

Before Samantha actually
greeted her by her real name.

- I didn't know anything
about Samantha Johnstone.

I didn't know it was going to happen.

- I believe you.

But Bella had decided

then and there that Samantha had to die.

- Can you get me another one please?

- It would have been easy

for Bella to go home and
doctor a bottle of wine

with rat poison while
the judges were being

shown round the village.

Then all she had to do was wait.

alex That lady over there.

She wants another drink.

- While the little boy
carried the glass to Samantha,

Bella poured the poisoned bottle

into the other glasses.

- Then, and then she
took a little sip herself

and that was the clever bit.

- Bella?

(glasses shattering)

- When she fell, she
smashed all the glasses.

Yes, she made it look as
if she might have been

the intended victim and at the same time

destroyed the evidence.

With all those broken glasses around

we would never be able
to tell how much poison

there was or where the poison came from.

- But then Rosemary Furman drank the wine.

- Thank you so much.
- But, but...

- God that's disgusting.

What is it?

- Her death was an accident.

So later on that same afternoon,

Bella caught up with
Samantha in the hotel.

- I didn't know, you know.

She was lying upstairs in bed.

I thought she was asleep.

- But you knew she
killed Peter Drinkwater.

You must have known she was responsible

for the poison.

What were you going to do?

Stand around and let her
wipe out the entire village?

- No!

I'd already decided
what I was going to do.

And I have done it.

- Where is Bella?

- She's upstairs.

- You said she wasn't here.

- She isn't.

- Troy!

- You'd have put her back
in the bin, wouldn't you.

I couldn't let you do that.

It would have destroyed her.

I gave her sleeping pills

and then a pillow, you know.

Quite painless.

It was better for her.

So much better.

I only wanted her to be happy.

- It was horrible, dad.

Jane Rochelle wasn't
killed in that accident.

She was just very badly burned.

I told you.

She was so beautiful.

- And there they were, the two of them.

Living in that house.

Hiding from the world.

- It's sad.

- Do you know, for a while I was certain

that he was responsible for the deaths.

- Why?

- Well, actually, it was your fault.

You said that just before she died,

Samantha Johnstone told
you she'd seen someone

she knew in the street.

- Well, that's what I thought she said.

Yes.

- But Edward Allardice was the only person

in the street.

- That is true but what she actually said

was that she'd seen someone
she knew from The Retreat.

Meaning Sebdon Manor.

- Well, the music was very loud,

Tom and I did say I wasn't sure.

- You still misled me.
- Tom!

- I relied on you, Joyce.

- Nobody's perfect.

- It's probably just as well.

(soft music)