Original subtitles

(bell chiming)

- Charlie.

Do yourself up.

- Good night, Arthur.

(sad violin music)

(wind howling) (bell chiming)

(loud footsteps)

- Come out.

What are you doing in my house?

(eerie music)

- Skull cracked like an egg.

Arthur Leggott, retired music teacher.

- [Barnaby] Much respected and admired.

- And missing from the Cedars Care home.

What was he sneaking around here for

in the middle of the night?

What was he after?

- Probably the same thing as whoever did this.

- Well it looks like they had a hell of a job finding it.

- [Bullard] No forced entry.

- [Scott] Well he must have been followed in.

- [Barnaby] Or else somebody was already in here.

- [Scott] Sir?

- [Barnaby] Well the auctioneers obviously have a key,

they've started cataloguing it.

And I assume the care home.

- [Scott] What was here that was so important to him?

- Music.

Nothing else mattered.

- He was respected and admired Scott,

because he encouraged and inspired so many people.

Including the great Joan Alder.

- Joan Alder, Midsomer Rhapsody?

- Yeah, do you the know the piece?

- My mum was a fan.

She played it when she wanted us out of the house.

(birds chirping)

♪ By the great house ♪

♪ Far away ♪

♪ And will you please ♪

♪ Say hello ♪

♪ To the folks that I know ♪

♪ Tell them I won't be long ♪

♪ They'll be happy to know ♪

♪ That when you saw me go ♪

♪ I was singing this song ♪

♪ We'll meet again ♪

♪ Don't know where ♪

♪ Don't know when ♪

♪ But I know we'll meet again ♪

♪ Some sunny day ♪

- Peggy,

I'm sorry, I'm sorry about this.

- Arthur liked us to sing that song,

one of his favourites.

This is Charlie.

- Of course, hello Charlie.

Congratulations, I'm sorry I haven't had time to--

- Listen, half the folk invited I haven't met yet.

What do you expect from a whirlwind romance?

- Swept you off your feet, did he?

Oh I'm sorry this is Detective Sergeant Scott

and we'd like very much, if we may, to talk to you later on.

- Well we're all waiting to be interrogated.

- Thank you.

But first I'd like to look at Arthur's room.

- So who's Vera Lynn?

- That's Peggy Alder, Scott.

- What, Joan Alder's mum?

- Yes indeed.

- The one whose house they're trying to turn

into some kind of shrine?

- The Joan Alder Society prefer to call it a living museum.

- [Scott] And you know the family?

- Yes I do, through Joyce.

- I don't get it sir, I mean,

she wasn't exactly your John Lennon was she?

She only wrote one song.

- Oh she wrote lots more than that Scott,

lovely music, beautiful music.

But you're right,

it was the Rhapsody, Midsomer Rhapsody she's most famous for

What one thing could Arthur Leggott have had

that was of so much value, eh Scott?

- A second undiscovered rhapsody?

- [Barnaby] Yeah, maybe.

- Mrs Alder?

Thank you.

- Bit of all right, isn't she?

Fancied her the first time I set eyes on her.

- He'd taken to wandering

but this was the first time

he'd done it in the middle of the night.

We were all friends, Tom.

- I know you were, Peggy.

- Which makes it all the more stupid

that we fell out the way we did.

He accused our Melody of stealing.

Wouldn't let it alone.

I said I'd never speak to him again.

I never dreamed I wouldn't.

- Stealing?

- It was all old music sheets,

he was giving them to Charlie.

- Did he have any visitors?

- Only Laura Crawford.

- Who's Laura Crawford?

- Joan's agent, writing a book about her.

She came to see me, then Arthur.

- Sorry to bother you but shall we cancel?

- What?

- The preview, Melody said--

- Alan Thorpe, my son in law.

- So we'll do it later?

- Why would I want to go and look at something

I lived in 40 year ago?

- I'll leave you to it.

- Because you said you wanted to,

and I made the arrangements.

- Well I can't.

I'll see it at the opening.

- I'll just go and have a word with Melody.

- You got the cooker then?

- Pardon?

- Mr Swinscoe said he'd got an exact replica.

What do you want to go

getting a poky little thing like that for?

People will think we were poverty stricken.

- You were.

- I don't know what was in the box, I didn't look.

I thought it must be something of Joan's.

- So he sent you to his house to bring it back.

When, when was that?

- About a month ago.

- Why you?

- Well I used to take him his groceries.

He trusted me, I suppose.

But what has a box file got to do with his death?

- I don't know, yet.

- [Lee] He'll be here Mr Swinscoe.

- [Owen] I'm opening in two days, he promised me.

- [Lee] It'll get done all right, look I'll work over.

- [Owen] Just go for your dad,

drag him out of the pub and get him in here

and finishing what I want finished now.

- It's all coming together, I see?

- Inspector Barnaby.

- Mr Swinscoe, this is Detective Sergeant Scott.

- Well it all fell into decline with multi occupation

in the fifties and sixties

when the Alders lived here but we're making progress.

- You are indeed.

- I assume this is about Mr Leggott.

- [Barnaby] Yeah that's right.

- Well do come in.

- Well yes, that's very good.

Mr Swinscoe, when did you first know

of Mr Leggott's bequest?

- [Swinscoe] A couple of months ago, by solicitor's letter.

- For the sake of argument,

let's assume there is something worth a fortune

in Arthur Leggott's collection.

Have you got any idea what it might be?

- None.

- A Joan Alder manuscript, perhaps?

- I wish.

- Other than yourself, can you think of anyone

who might have an interest

in the contents of Arthur Leggott's house?

- Well I suppose Michael Maybury

might not want any more of his wife's papers

to fall into our hands.

If you ask me, he doesn't want to celebrate Joan's life

because he doesn't want any questions

reopened about her death.

- An overdose of anti-depressants and too much alcohol

caused Joan to fall asleep at the wheel.

Her case was fully investigated at the time,

no charges were brought, none were ever contemplated.

- It's made him rich though, hasn't it?

All those posthumous royalties.

- Hello?

Mr Bullard's finished sir,

and the auctioneers are waiting outside the house.

- George, it's Tom.

Can you keep them on hold please 'til Scott gets there okay?

Thank you.

I want you to oversee

the cataloguing of everything in that house,

before any box file gets taken away,

you go through each and every one.

- [Scott] Right sir.

- [Joyce] Was Peggy all right?

- Upset.

- He was a gentleman, Tom.

That's why I liked him.

He lived such a life, you know?

So many people grateful for his teaching.

And then to go like that.

- So will you still go to the auction?

- I don't think so.

Not now.

He was going to be the best man.

- Moving on.

Retirement gift, inscribed.

Nice little dedication by Joan Alder.

Who'll start me at a thousand?

Come on now.

Anywhere?

- Two fifty.

(laughing)

- I'm sorry sir, the bid is over here at a thousand.

12 hundred anywhere?

12,

14,

15,

16.

One six.

For 16 hundred pounds (gavel banging)

sold, Laura Crawford.

- Exceeding all expectations eh?

- Marvellous.

- Now then, box files.

Miscellaneous song sheets, dozens of them.

First one, five pound anywhere?

No?

Two then?

Come on now.

(gavel banging)

Sold to Mr Crane.

How many do you want sir?

- I'll take the lot.

- [Auctioneer] Box files to Mr Crane.

- There you go Scott.

A man's life, sold to the highest bidder.

- A market for everything sir.

- So it seems and now our miscellaneous boxes,

a bargain at two pound a piece.

- And junk in every one of them.

- Hey hey.

That's Laura Crawford.

Joan Alder's agent.

- Oh Arthur,

you little beauty.

Harvey Crane here.

Guess what I've just found?

- Inspector Barnaby, come in.

- Mr Maybury.

- My assistant, Mrs Smeeton.

- [Barnaby] How do you do?

- Hello.

- Valerie told me about Arthur Leggott.

It's all round the village.

- How well did you know Arthur Leggott?

- My first wife introduced us.

Lovely old boy.

He came over for dinner now and then, Joan adored him.

- And after your wife's death?

- Well no, what kept us together kept us apart I suppose.

Too painful.

- It seems that Arthur Leggott was

attempting to retrieve something.

Is it possible that there was an early manuscript of Joan's?

- Well I suppose so.

A couple of bars on the back of an exercise book

could fetch good money, these days.

- Really?

- Well with a fool like Swinscoe

buying up anything he can get his hands on,

everybody in Badgers Drift is emptying out their cupboards.

- If such a manuscript did exist,

might you want to retrieve it for your own archives?

- I didn't steal it, if that's what you're asking.

- Where were you around midnight last night?

- Here.

- And can someone vouch for that?

- I can.

I was here all night.

(motorcycle engine revving)

- [Laura] Yes?

- [Barnaby] I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,

and this is D.S. Scott.

May we come in?

- Of course.

- How can I help?

- I understand that your

London agency represented Joan Alder

during her life time and now you manage her estate.

Is that correct?

- Yes.

- And I understand, too,

that you are working on a biography of her?

- As her agent, her friend, her lover,

I would say that I'm perfectly placed to be her biographer.

Wouldn't you?

- Official?

- By that I assume you mean do I have the approval

of Michael Maybury?

No.

- Why not?

- Because he knows I never believed in the loving,

caring husband.

- But he lets you manage her estate?

- The bird might sing Sergeant, if she were set free.

- What song might the bird sing madam?

- You're not here about a 20 year old crime.

- No we're here about Arthur Leggott.

- I visited him at the Cedars.

- And what did he tell you?

- Nothing much that I could use.

His memory of her had been sprinkled with stardust

in his dotage.

- Did he ever mention being in possession of a manuscript

that was hers, or something to do with her?

- He didn't but I gather he was.

- Ah.

- Harvey Crane, you just missed him.

An early manuscript of Joan's

turned up in a box of rubbish at the auction.

- I checked every one sir.

- And he offered it for sale, did he?

How much?

- I offered 50 thousand pounds.

- You must be on a good commission.

- Worldwide royalties from Rhapsody alone

bring in a quarter of a million a year to the estate.

- Michael Maybury getting it all being next of kin.

- For now.

- What do you mean, for now?

- Are you going to the opening

of the Joan Alder House tomorrow?

- Yes I will.

- Good, I'll see you there.

It should be a most interesting event.

Hello darling.

- And you definitely found the manuscript

in one of these boxes?

- Yes.

- And they all came from the auction?

- Yes.

- And you knew straight away what it was?

- Well of course.

A dated version of Rhapsody,

earlier than anyone believed it to have been written.

- So you took it to Laura Crawford.

- Well just to show somebody.

I had no intention of selling it.

- Who gave you the black eye?

- I walked into a cupboard.

- You walked into a fist.

Who else did you show the manuscript to?

- Michael Maybury.

- What did he say?

- He had the audacity to suggest I had manufactured it.

- Why?

Is it possible that someone could have faked it?

- Well of course not.

- How can you be sure?

- Because I took it to the one person

who would definitely know.

The authority on all things Joan Alder, Owen Swinscoe.

- And?

- He bought it, Inspector.

There's your authentication.

- So Owen Swinscoe now has the manuscript?

- He paid a deposit and I gave him a copy.

He'll get the real thing when I have official authentication

and the rest of the money.

- How much will that be?

- 120 thousand pounds.

- Where will he get that kind of money?

- The Leggott legacy, one supposes.

- Well that, that's on hold Mr Crane.

- What?

You can't stop me making a sale on this, can you?

- Yes I can.

I can postpone it for as long as the item for sale

is evidence in a murder case, Mr Crane.

Where is it?

Get that to George Bullard, Scott.

- Yes sir.

- Gently.

- Thank you.

I'm positive I went through every one, sir.

There was nothing.

- I believe you Scott, I believe you.

I don't believe that manuscript

ever went through the auction.

- You think Crane took it from Arthur Leggott's house?

- Well somebody took it.

Somehow it ended up in a box in Harvey Crane's shop.

- We used to think it was composed

when she was in South America with John Farrow

but this new manuscript is written in a very distinctive,

careful, neat hand, not the wild scribble of later years.

We do have a sample of her earlier handwriting

and this is exactly like it.

- It was always rumoured that it was John Farrow

who collaborated with Joan in the composition.

- That's the interesting thing,

but these notes here, look,

this is not John Farrow's writing.

And there are musical phrases here,

written in this new hand and here,

she's incorporated those musical phrases

which would mean that she started to work on the rhapsody

while she was still a schoolgirl.

Now isn't that incredible?

- And while she was taking lessons with Arthur Leggott?

- Yes.

- Which could explain why he had the manuscript.

- So who's the mystery man or woman?

- Well, whoever it is Scott,

puts them in a position to claim a share of those royalties

doesn't it?

Now Mr Swinscoe, I know you'd like this to have

pride of place at opening tomorrow,

but I'm afraid for the time being no one but no one

must know of the existence of this new manuscript,

nor of its implications.

- But this has cost me, Inspector.

My own money.

- [Scott] Who's this John Farrow?

- [Barnaby] John Farrow, he was the real thing

as far as Joan was concerned.

- [Scott] What happened?

- [Barnaby] His father intervened.

- Joan wasn't a saint.

Sometimes she made mistakes.

- Biggest mistake she made was Michael Maybury.

She'd be here today if it wasn't for him.

- You can't just say things like that.

- She wrote to me when she was in the mental ward.

- Peggy please, we're going to the opening.

- You know she did.

- But strangely enough, this letter got burned.

- Do you think I'd lie about a thing like that?

I burnt it because if he'd got his hands on it,

he would have used it to keep her where he'd put her.

- He'd put her in there for her own safety.

- Say what you like,

Michael Maybury sent my daughter round the bend.

- Can we get a move on please?

(orchestral music)

(applauding)

- Ladies and gentlemen--

- It is with the greatest pleasure

that I am able to introduce to you a certain young woman

who destiny has brought to us today.

A young woman who recently took it upon herself to discover

her true parentage.

Her trail brought her to me,

only to discover with profound sadness

that both her parents had passed away.

But with that sadness came an immense pride

in discovering who her birth mother was.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Joan Alder's daughter.

Sarah.

(truck honks horn)

(sombre instrumental music)

- She didn't even have the decency

to tell that poor girl that her own grandmother

was in the audience.

- Well I get the feeling that's Laura Crawford's style.

Set up a photo opportunity--

- Light the blue touch paper.

- And poor Peggy.

I mean she could have died, it was a shock.

- I thought it was wonderful.

I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

- Kept you glued to your seat didn't it?

- [Joyce] Well that was an accident waiting to happen.

- What, Hedge or Joe Smeeton?

- Joe.

Drinking, he's off the rails.

- I met his wife up at Michael Maybury's house.

- Soon to be ex wife.

- Did Joe Smeeton ever have a fling with Joan Alder?

- Well, I know that when Joan came back from South America,

he was there for her for a while.

- South America?

- She took off with John Farrow.

John's father, Noah,

made sure he couldn't continue at college.

He did everything he could to stop them from being together.

What he did was drive them away.

- So what happened?

- What happened Cully, was that John Farrow died down there.

Got involved in drugs, apparently.

The story was that a car full of thugs and guns

turned up one morning, dragged him from his bed,

he was bundled into the car and Joan never saw him again.

Somehow she managed to get back to this country,

not a penny in her pocket.

Just a few manuscripts in a suitcase.

- How sad.

- No but one of those manuscripts

was about to make her a fortune.

- She was pregnant when she came home, too.

- He just came out backwards into the driveway.

Nobody could have avoided him.

- What were you doing outside the hall that night, Joe?

- I wanted to shame Swinscoe into

paying me the money he owed me.

I need it for matters pending, don't I?

- What matters would they be, Joe?

- It's my missus.

Not content with kicking me in the crotch with Maybury,

now she wants a divorce so she can marry the bastard.

I built him that bloody conservatory and all.

I'll take a sledge hammer to it first.

- Oh that'll fix it.

Where were you last Wednesday night round about midnight?

- What?

- The night of Arthur's murder?

- About 50 yards from the Badgers.

I fell in a ditch and couldn't get up.

(sombre orchestral music)

- Very cosy.

Why do they call him Hedge?

- That's what he does for a living.

Laying hedges, coppicing,

willow weaving.

Anything that'll get him a meal.

- [Scott] Do we know his real name?

- No.

Let's find out, shall we?

I mean he wasn't just passing by

when Joe Smeeton knocked him down.

He was at the window, watching.

- You're not allowed, it's my home.

- How long have you lived around here?

- 10,

15 year.

- What's your real name, Hedge?

- Look I never bother anyone, I don't cause trouble.

- Your past is sitting in a bed and breakfast

in Badgers Drift.

Sarah.

You never knew, did you?

Is that what sent you reeling into the road?

So you didn't die in South America?

- I was selling short,

and selling on what I managed to keep back.

They found out.

I used my father to bargain for my life.

I wrote and wrote.

After months I got a letter, 'Go to hell'.

One day I saw my chance and I took it.

I ran for days.

I came home to a grave in a churchyard, 15 years too late.

No, I didn't know she was pregnant.

- Why did you assume a new identity?

- I've been on the outside of my life

too long to claim it back.

- And you never contacted anyone you once knew?

- No.

- What about Arthur Leggott?

- One day I caught him watching me, I was by her grave.

It was her birthday, it was dusk.

I thought no one was about.

- Do you think he realised who you were?

- I think maybe he did, yes.

- And that was it, no other contact?

- All right,

he told me had a manuscript he wanted me to have.

Do you,

do you think she'd want to see me?

- Even falling in love didn't stop her.

"He's set my music on fire", she'd say.

I never saw anyone as much in love as she was.

I'd catch her looking at him sometimes,

as if her soul was swimming in the wake of him.

And then Noah Farrow found out.

Next time I saw her, I didn't recognise her.

Skin and bone and pregnant with you.

You were a miracle, my love, because she'd nothing left.

And I couldn't cope with the both of you.

What I'm saying is,

it wasn't your mother that had you taken away, Sarah.

It was me.

Blame me.

She never gave up looking for you, you know.

Hello, Tom.

- Peggy, Charlie.

- My granddaughter.

- Hello Sarah.

- Hello.

- What can I do for you, Tom?

- Well it's more Peggy, what I can do for you.

Or rather, both of you.

(light suspenseful music)

- Now you are in demand aren't you?

- Dad was supposed to be on this one.

When are they letting him out?

- He's out.

- Be in the Badgers then.

How's Hedge?

- He'll survive.

- Look, he didn't mean to hurt anybody all right?

He's just got a lot on his mind at the moment.

Him and mum are getting a divorce.

- Well?

- Mr Farrow, Mr Noah Farrow?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

and this is Detective Sergeant Scott.

May we have a word, please?

- About?

- Arthur Leggott.

- A violent end to an immoral life.

- Immoral?

- He delivered my son into the arms of a common slut

who ruined his life.

Leggott's death is a judgement .

- Is that what your religion tells you?

- Is there anything else?

- Yes, what does your religion tell you about

turning your back on your own flesh and blood

in their hour of need?

- My dogs need exercise.

I should get walking.

(dogs barking)

- Well that's a very bitter foolish fond old man.

- Why didn't you tell him his son was still alive?

- I will, once he's worth talking to.

But he's still got that amount of hate in him,

imagine what he must have been like 30 odd years ago

when he was, when he was capable.

- Yeah you can drop me anywhere round here.

- I'm not allowed to see where you live?

- This will do fine.

- Can I

can I see you again?

- Would you like to?

- Of course.

Tomorrow?

Yes let me take you to dinner.

- No, let me take you.

(light orchestral music)

- Joan Alder wasn't the sole composer.

There's absolutely no doubt about it.

This whole section is written in another hand

and then it's used in the completed version in Joan's hand.

Some of the notes and scribbles,

again, the other hand, look, "would this work?"

Then Joan's own notes.

"Yes, thank you for this."

Now, it's not John Farrow.

Because I've checked the writing with some of his work,

essays, music, in one of the box files.

- But why would Arthur Leggott want John Farrow to have this

if it shows that someone else helped write it?

- You might like the romantic notion

of another hand being involved

but I just think it brings into question

everything Joan wrote.

- It could bring a massive interest.

- Barnaby was absolutely right to suggest we keep this whole

undiscovered manuscript business to ourselves.

(knocking)

- John Farrow.

- May we talk?

- Well come in, come in, please.

We tried to get everything right, circa 1965.

Is this close?

Our secretary, Mr. Alan Thorpe.

Alan, this is John Farrow.

- Alan Thorpe.

You married Joan's older sister, Melody.

- I did.

- I came to your engagement party.

We gave you a set of place mats.

(laughing)

- John.

Well it's a shock John, I'll say that.

- I have a letter.

From Joan.

I was wondering if you'd like to buy it,

if you're interested.

- Well, we could be.

Don't you think?

- And this holds no sentimental value?

- [John] Yes.

- Why sell it then?

- That's my business.

- How much?

- 200?

Cash?

- If you'll just give us a moment?

- By all means.

May I have a look around?

- Please do.

- I could sell this tomorrow for 10 times that.

- I'm not so sure.

- Come on, this is fantastic stuff.

She was crazy for him.

- We haven't got the cash.

- Write me a cheque.

(instrumental music)

- You've done a good job.

- Oh, thank you.

And from John Farrow himself, that is a great compliment.

- Thanks.

- He wouldn't let me see where he lives.

- It's a mucky old caravan, that's why.

- Oh I don't care.

- No but he thinks you might.

- I want us to get to know one another.

He's taking me for dinner.

- Oh?

That's nice.

Who's paying?

- He is.

- What with?

- What do you think?

Wedding suit.

- Oh, fine.

- She'll never know the difference.

Mind you, she's not exactly 20 20 vision.

Blinded by love, see.

I'm a lucky man.

- Excuse me, is it Peggy Alder?

- The same.

- Please give her my best wishes.

- I will,

and the name?

- Hedge.

- Hospital Hedge?

Yes of course you are.

You're coming back with me.

- Oh no no I can't.

- She wants to see you.

- She will but I just need a bit of time to sort things out.

- She'll kill me if I say I've seen you

and not brought you back.

- Another day.

- What about next Saturday, the wedding?

How you fixed?

You're coming.

You'll be very welcome old lad.

Charlie Speight, you're almost part of the family.

Ever since you walked under that truck,

I've heard nothing else but John Farrow.

Listen I hear you're a bit of a musician.

- So who is it?

- I wish I could tell you.

If there was going to be someone else

helped her with this--

(phone ringing)

Excuse me a moment, would you?

Laura Crawford.

It's not convenient right now.

- Well, this isn't just any letter.

It's Joan Alder to John Farrow

and it's dynamite.

- Listen I'll call you back.

Some of these new writers think their agent is their mother.

Now where were we?

- Mr Swinscoe?

Mr Swinscoe?

- Harvey?

I think the manuscript is a fake.

- It most certainly is not a fake.

You were as sure as I was.

- Look I've got a letter,

a genuine letter from Joan Alder to John Farrow.

- A letter?

I don't see how--

- But the police have already got the manuscript.

And if they see this letter--

- No need to involve the police.

We can sort this out without--

- I need to see you Harvey, today.

- No no I can't come today.

I've arranged to see,

tomorrow, first thing I'll come round.

(light instrumental music)

- Sorry, Mr Swinscoe, but I'm away.

I've got a couple of little jobs still to do.

But I'll be in tomorrow and sort them.

- Yes all right, thanks.

It's me.

Listen.

(loud chattering)

(cheering and laughing)

- Sorry lads, come on.

- No let me.

- No I have it, please.

- I feel like I'm on the outside looking in.

I just wish I had something of her.

Nothing much, something she'd written, perhaps.

Just something precious to her, you know?

- I've changed my mind, all right.

- Tell the world, why don't you?

- Listen, the manuscript--

- Oh so you're selling that now instead?

- No of course not, how can I?

The police have got it.

- What do you know?

- Nothing I can tell you.

- Well you're not playing cat and mouse with this one.

Goodbye Swinscoe, better luck elsewhere.

- Excuse me.

- Ah, here she comes.

That's Joan Alder's girl.

Possibly

or possibly not by John Farrow.

- Dad?

Shut up.

- But does she know Michael Maybury,

the man her mother married?

Has she met him yet?

Would she want to know

if she knew what he had done to her mother?

- Come on dad, that'll do.

- Well everybody knows.

Well he might get away with murder

but he won't get away with stealing my wife.

- Mr Swinscoe, may I have a word?

- Haven't you done enough?

- Sorry?

- What do you want?

- I've changed my mind.

I want to buy the letter back.

- Oh and where are you going to get 2,000 pounds from,

sell your shack?

- Ah the prodigal returns.

Right,

that'll do for petrol.

I'll have the rest in my hand in the morning, or else.

- Or else it won't be

in which case you'll just have to wait,

like everybody else has to until the job is finally done.

And when, you tell me, might that might be?

- You're a clever little bastard

for a jumped up librarian aren't you?

- Dad dad dad just leave it, come on, come on.

- A bloody bookworm

who'd sell his soul for a piece of a dead woman's underwear,

yet he can't even pay his own debts.

(ominous music)

(splashing)

- Charlie's going to make Peggy very happy.

She deserves it, she's been on her own for a long time.

- What happened to her first husband?

- He walked out.

Joan must have been about 11.

He was head gardener at the hall.

- What, Noah Farrow's place?

- Went off with Noah Farrow's wife.

- I don't know, what is it with your generation?

- It's not my generation, thank you.

Anyway, if I don't take Peggy to collect this outfit,

there won't be a wedding.

- Barnaby.

- Right, a button missing,

coat ripped.

Even if he had been drinking,

this man didn't fall in by mistake

or deliberately throw himself in the river.

- [Barnaby] Do you think he was pushed?

- Quite possibly but only after quite a struggle.

Both wrists, hands, grazed

and fragments of limestone or similar in the nails.

- As from a stone bridge?

- It could be.

- Badgers Drift?

- [Bullard] Quite possibly, yes.

- [Barnaby] If it was Badgers Drift,

could the body have made it this far downstream?

- After the weather we've been having, yes.

- Okay thank you George.

- What turns a man so against his own son?

- I think I found out this morning, Scott.

Joan Alder's father, apparently,

took off with Noah Farrow's wife.

(ominous music)

- He was in The Badgers with Laura Crawford, sir.

All of these either in the bar or the dining room.

- Bullard was right.

This is where someone heaved him over.

- What do you think?

- It's lovely.

- Beautiful.

- Do you think Joan would've liked it if she had been here?

- I'm here mother and I like it.

- Yes, thank you.

- He rang to offer me a love letter from Joan.

- Did he really?

- Not a love letter to me, Inspector.

To John Farrow.

By the time we got to the restaurant,

Swinscoe had changed his mind.

- Why?

- Something had scared him.

Kept shifting the conversation to the manuscript.

- Did he show you that letter?

- No.

- What if he'd found out,

by comparing Joan's writing in the letter

to that in the manuscript, that the whole thing was a fake?

- There's no way.

That handwriting was Joan's.

- Someone who'd forged it would say that, wouldn't they?

Arthur Leggott wanted John Farrow to have a manuscript,

probably the original John Farrow Joan Alder collaboration.

What if somebody stole that manuscript

from Arthur Leggott to copy it?

- But why, why go to all that trouble?

- To take some credit

and stake a claim to Joan Alder's estate.

- Well it makes sense that Swinscoe thought he had a fake

on his hands, I suppose.

His own money up the creek.

If this is a forgery,

all I can say is it's one hell of a good one.

And I didn't meet up with Swinscoe

to get him drunk and push him in the river

because he'd found me out, either.

- Be a good reason to kill him though, wouldn't it?

- Oh very good reason,

if this is a forgery.

- If the letter wasn't in Swinscoe's pocket,

it must be here.

- Coming in here, do you think?

- I'll call on Harvey Crane later.

Get that letter found.

- Yes sir.

- I got hold of him, yes.

- And what happened then?

- I got thrown out, why?

- And then?

- Then I walked home.

- Across the bridge?

- Better than getting your feet wet.

- Did you lie in wait for Owen Swinscoe

to tackled him on the bridge?

- No.

- And then throw him into the river?

- What been for a swim, has he?

- No Mr Smeeton.

He is dead.

- What?

- Drowned.

- Dead?

I didn't see him after the set to we had in the pub.

Oh bugger it,

I'm not going to get my money now, am I?

- Well, he'd had a few before he left.

Whiskies.

I come in a couple of times, and he was--

- Did you see him with a letter?

- No what letter?

- You sure?

- Yeah of course I'm sure.

- So what was he doing?

- Drinking.

He made a phone call.

Private, mind, 'cause he shut the door on me.

- You didn't hear what he said?

- No I was in the back room.

When I did come in, he was,

framing photos.

- Photos?

- That one.

- Bingo.

- Mr Barnaby.

A spring clean.

- You were in the Badgers last night.

You had a meal which you paid in cash.

- I sold a letter to Owen Swinscoe.

- A love letter from Joan?

- Yes.

- Is that what the conversation in the restaurant

with Mr Swinscoe was all about?

- I wanted to buy it back.

I didn't know how I was gonna pay for it but--

- You didn't catch up with Owen Swinscoe again, did you?

- No why?

What's he said?

- How much did you get for your letter?

- Please, it was 200 pounds.

- Didn't bother you to sell it?

- Of course it did.

Until I met Sarah,

it was the one and only precious thing of Joan's I had.

- Morning Sarah.

- Morning.

- And you didn't get the letter back?

- No, you're welcome to look.

- Where have you been hiding it for the last 30 years then?

- What's all this about?

- Please Sarah, give us a moment.

- Here we are.

- Open it please.

- I'd forgotten that.

- May I?

El Paso Texas.

This is a marriage certificate.

- So with a marriage certificate

he would have an equal claim, along with Michael Maybury,

to Joan Alder's estate?

- Yes yes he would.

- Could that marriage certificate

have been in Arthur Leggott's house?

- No, that's been living 30 years in that tobacco tin.

What I think did go missing from Arthur Leggott's house

was a genuine manuscript.

And somebody meticulously copied that manuscript

to show the involvement of a hand other than John Farrow's.

Owen Swinscoe bought it,

but then Owen got hold of a genuine letter from Joan Alder.

And there was something, something about that letter Scott,

that made him suspect that the manuscript was a fake.

- So the forger had to get hold of that letter

and if he couldn't, well--

- Well he'd have to kill Owen Swinscoe

just as he'd had to kill Arthur Leggott, yeah?

George.

- The love letter's genuine Tom.

- Is it.

- Joan's handwriting changed over the years

but not until after the trauma of losing John Farrow

and the adoption.

And I've checked it against this.

- A Valentine card, where'd you get that?

- Alan Thorpe volunteered it.

- Alan Thorpe?

- Apparently Joan's sister remembers her writing it.

I think it's what's known as a tease.

Now what we have here

is a very good attempt at copying her earlier writing,

but there are some letters formed,

they're from the writing of a Joan Alder

after she came back from South America.

So, as this purports to have been written

three years earlier, we have ourselves a forgery.

- And did the forger use genuine paper,

I mean late sixties, early seventies, manuscript paper?

- Yes.

- Which could have been found

in Arthur Leggott's house, yeah?

Well, thank you George.

- You're welcome, I'll leave them with you.

- It was worth the wait.

- So the forger goes to Arthur Leggott's house

to get the original manuscript in order to copy it.

- Or having made the forgery,

go round to plant it and Leggott found them at it.

- And the original's still out there somewhere?

- Yes if we find our forger we find our killer.

- Thank you.

That call Owen Swinscoe made, sir?

- Harvey Crane?

- That's right.

- My mother will say Michael Maybury

had something to do with it.

Well they never got on, did they?

Him and Owen Swinscoe?

- That's ridiculous.

- Well, if she can put Joan's death at his door

because of some letter that Joan wrote

when she was so far gone she couldn't tell what day it was.

- Well that's something none of us will ever know.

- What?

- Was she mad when she wrote it

or was she genuinely in danger?

- Well we know you never liked him.

- I don't like the fact

that he's lived off your sister all these years.

- He's rich.

He's a successful author in his own right.

You never liked him because it was him that won Joan

and not you.

- I wanted her the way all of us lads did.

Only I was fool enough to confess a teenage passion

to the woman I married.

- You don't tell the woman you married

how much you used to fancy her sister.

(car horn honking)

- Scott, are you all right?

- "Dearest Mother",

it's a photocopy of a letter from a supposed madwoman.

Michael Maybury was driving her to suicide.

According to this letter, that's what Joan believed.

Crane was on his way to find a buyer.

- You think he got this from Lee Smeeton?

- Well he's had access to Peggy's house for weeks hasn't he?

Maybe he was the one who found it.

- Is this gonna turn out to be another forgery sir?

- I'd say that's a strong possibility, wouldn't you?

(ominous music)

- You going somewhere?

- Yeah.

My dad.

A mate's just rung to say they'd nearly knocked him over,

out on the Parva road.

- We've just come from the Parva road,

we didn't see your dad there.

- Well look, he's had a few all right?

- What a surprise.

- Yeah, well.

- What were you doing at Harvey Crane's house Lee?

- He give me a tenner for some magazines I found.

Oh and he was trying to fix a new lock on his back door

which he made a right pig's ear of,

so I did that for him too

which took me the best part of an hour.

That's another tenner,

I did pretty well out of that, didn't I?

- Where did you find the magazines?

- I found them in the attic at Joan Alder House, why?

- You leave Harvey Crane's house

and straight afterwards he goes off on his motor bike.

Any connection?

- No.

- You sure?

- 'Course I'm sure.

I don't know where he went, all right?

- He went up the Parva road.

- So what are you asking me for then?

- Go and find your dad, Lee.

- Joe, no no no.

Joe.

- Barnaby.

- Mr Maybury,

can I have a word please?

- Yes yes of course, come in come in.

- Hello Mrs Smeeton.

- Not Smeeton anymore, Inspector.

- No.

Mr Maybury, I wonder if you'd mind

looking at something for me?

- Yes.

My glasses are here in the--

- If that is the letter received by Peggy Alder

all those years ago--

- Well then I can see why she feels

the way she does about me.

- But if it's not genuine,

then someone may have used letters actually written by Joan

to make a realistic forgery.

- Why do that?

- To frame you, Mr Maybury.

- I see.

I know what my late wife went through, Barnaby.

How many men she had, trawling bars night after night

for five minutes of forgetting

and I know what I went through

trying to save her from herself.

So I don't give a damn what you or anybody else believes.

- When did you last see Harvey Crane?

- Last week, when he came round with the manuscript.

- Oh yes, you gave him a black eye didn't you?

- A toad on the make.

Is he where this came from?

- Are you certain you haven't seen him since then?

- I'm surprised I haven't.

I'd have thought this would be worth a try at blackmail.

- And you haven't heard from him today?

- There was a phone call but the caller hung up twice.

- Well didn't you try 1471?

- I'm sorry I thought it was Joe again.

- [Message] Hello, Harvey Crane

is unable to take your call at the moment.

Please leave a message.

- So he was about to offer it to me.

- Have you been in the house all evening?

- Since we came back from Court this afternoon yes.

- Why, what's happened now?

- Harvey Crane was murdered this evening.

- Banned from the driving cab,

banned from the Badgers.

- Joe, stay away from the Rectory.

The only person you're gonna damage is yourself.

- Dad?

- Ta, son.

- See you Joe.

Take a bath.

- Oi, Parva road was closed off what's that all about?

You told me that's where Harvey Crane went, what's happened?

- There was a road accident.

- Lee Smeeton was there for an hour,

which gives Harvey Crane plenty of time

to find the letter in the magazines,

and make a few phone calls.

- He tried Maybury first, bit of blackmail.

And whoever planted the letter knew he'd do that

and they were waiting for him,

on the road to the Old Rectory.

- But why kill him?

- Because he knew of the forgery of the manuscript

from Owen Swinscoe,

who rang him up to ask for his money back.

- So our killer thinks he can frame Michael Maybury

twice over, firstly for murdering Joan Alder 20 years ago,

and then for killing Harvey Crane,

who's supposedly got evidence that Joan was murdered.

- Which would leave the way clear,

once the dust has settled,

for them to claim co-authorship of the Midsomer Rhapsody

and a share in all those royalties, eh?

(suspenseful music)

(knocking)

- Ms Crawford, can I have a word please?

- It's rather late.

- May we come in?

- Do you have to?

- No you can come out if you like, we can go for a ride.

- Come in Inspector.

- Sarah.

- Inspector Barnaby.

- May I ask as a point of interest,

are you now with The Laura Crawford Agency?

- Of course she isn't.

That may change, however.

- Depending on how much she's worth right?

- Oh please.

- Depending whether or not I lay claim

to what I am apparently entitled.

But I don't want to cause any trouble.

- No trouble to me, my dear.

But--

- Michael Maybury?

- [Laura] Who else?

- You still say he was responsible for his wife's death?

- Yes I do, in black and white, actually.

Since we last talked,

a letter has surfaced which puts the matter beyond doubt.

- Have you seen that letter?

Or was it just read to you over the phone?

Have you had any contact with Harvey Crane today?

- No.

He called me around seven.

- And?

- Okay he did read me a letter.

- Have you been out this evening?

- No I've been in all day.

- Can you vouch for that Sarah?

- Yes I've been here since about six.

- Was this the letter that was read to you?

- Looks like it.

Look what's this all about?

- You claim you were Joan Alder's lover.

Are you also hoping you're going to claim part ownership

of the Rhapsody royalties?

- Me, you think I did all this?

- Ms Crawford, I'm investigating three murders.

I'm asking you,

don't leave the village.

And a word of advice to you, Sarah,

about Michael Maybury, you make your own mind up.

- How dare you?

(sombre violin music)

(sobbing)

- Have they not RSVP'd?

- No mother.

- What are we supposed to assume then, they're not coming?

- I suppose so.

- Well you can't assume that, you'll have to get in touch.

- Don't you think I've got enough to do?

- Can I make a suggestion?

I'm sure Joyce would be more than pleased to help out.

- It's Melody's job.

- Well it would be one less job to worry about, wouldn't it?

It will be done.

Now Peggy,

I'm sorry but...

- You read it.

- Is that the letter Joan wrote to you from hospital?

- Yes.

- But you said you burnt it.

- I can't have, can I, if it's here.

- It could be a fake.

- Fake, what on earth for?

- Well, it seems to prove

that what you've been saying for years is true

and it could cause a lot of trouble for Michael Maybury.

- Well if it is a fake,

there's plenty that's heard the contents

as many times as I have.

- All I know is I remember screwing it up

and throwing it in the flames.

- Screwing it up?

- Yes.

- Thank you Peggy.

- I know you've a job to do,

but she's been a bit highly strung of late.

I don't want her to make herself ill over it all,

before the wedding.

- I'm being as delicate as I can be

in the circumstances, Charlie.

What's she told you about Michael Maybury?

- Oh quite enough.

He had the cheek to get somebody to phone here

to ask for the wedding present list.

- Oh, that sounds like a really bad man,

doesn't it, Charlie?

Peggy needed someone to blame.

Michael Maybury was the obvious target.

And once she started, she couldn't back off.

I think she needs your help here Charlie.

Help her face up to this one.

- Michael?

Someone to see you.

Sarah Douglas, Joan's daughter.

- Sarah.

Oh this is wonderful.

Thank you.

You do have her eyes.

You really do.

I'm so glad that you wanted to come and see me.

- Well I've heard a lot about you.

I wanted to see for myself.

- So, Harvey Crane gets hold of a letter

which implicates Michael Maybury in his wife Joan's death.

Now our forger knows that

Harvey's gonna try and blackmail Maybury with it,

so he gets himself near to Maybury's place,

waits 'til he hears Harvey's motor bike and then--

(making noise)

Does a Steve McQueen across the road with a wire.

- And hopes we're going to think it's Maybury,

which we don't.

- No we don't.

(phone ringing)

- Barnaby.

Oh thank you.

We are summoned.

- So who told you that I didn't help my son?

Peggy Alder, did her daughter tell her when she came back?

How did she know?

Did the people who were holding him,

did they tell her after they killed him that I didn't help?

- What else could it be?

And does it matter?

- What?

Does everyone know?

- No everyone else does not know, Mr Farrow.

What you did is safe with me.

- So who?

- And one other.

- Who?

- He didn't die, Mr Farrow.

- John?

- In fact he's been living within five miles of you

for the last 15 years.

- He's alive?

My son is alive?

- He won't see you.

- No of course not.

- Have you

any idea

of the love you tried to deny him?

But you didn't deny them everything Mr Farrow.

You have a granddaughter too.

- No one would recognise Hedge.

- I hope not.

Now how do I look?

- You look wonderful.

- Thank you.

- John I beg of you a moment of your time.

- We have to be somewhere.

- Yes of course.

I thought you were dead by my hand.

I don't know how a father could do such a thing.

An evil, bitter man.

It's a weight, John, I wouldn't ask you to lift.

- So what do you want?

You know who this is?

- Yes.

- You don't get to cripple this generation too.

- Please, he's not here to hurt anyone.

- I just wanted to see you.

- My wife had to give away our daughter.

- Wife?

- I loved her.

- Yes.

And I know now how much she loved you.

You might like to have that.

- Thank you.

- We have to go.

- A wedding.

- Yes of course.

- I think it would be lovely if we arrived in your car.

- Have I got time to mow the lawn?

- Do you like it?

- Oh it's stunning.

- Worth every penny.

When your turn comes, Cully--

- Dad.

- I don't suppose there's any chance of low key?

- No, there isn't.

- Did you manage to get hold of everyone?

- Yes.

- I'm afraid I'm going to have to go out for a while.

- Dad?

- Tom?

- I'll see you at the church.

- Dad you can't.

- Tom.

Tom.

- George.

- What have you got?

- Take a look at this.

Look at the paper.

- That's exactly the same.

- But you said this is 35 years old.

- It is.

- The real thing, lifted from Arthur Leggott's

to do the deed.

- So who wrote the wedding list?

- Melody Thorpe wrote that.

- She wouldn't make that mistake.

- No, she's not our forger.

She used what she thought was just another piece of paper.

(bell chiming)

(horn honking)

(doorbell ringing)

- He's already at the wedding, sir.

- Round the back.

- Turn it off.

- Hello?

Yes.

What?

Right, thank you.

We're being burgled.

- What?

Alan, no you can't.

- Scott?

This is it.

This is the centre of operations.

The original manuscript of Midsomer Rhapsody by Joan Alder

with additional material by John Farrow.

- I pronounce that they be man and wife together

in the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost.

Those whom God hath joined together,

let no man put asunder.

You may kiss the bride.

(organ playing)

- What the hell is going on?

- Alan Thorpe I am arresting you for the murders

of Arthur Leggott, Owen Swinscoe and Harvey Crane.

- I think we're both gonna be very happy

with the family we've got.

Hers not mine, mine are all scoundrels

still serving at her Majesty's.

No, no, no, not really, none of them left.

Yesterday I was on my own and today

I've a wonderful wife and a step-daughter,

and now a granddaughter too.

What more could a man want?

Well just for you to all have a lovely day.

Enjoy yourselves, I will.

(applauding)

- You took this original manuscript

from a box file your wife had brought home

to give to Arthur Leggott.

Then you went to Arthur Leggott's house

and you took some old, unused manuscript paper

and you set to work rewriting the Joan Alder story

to your own advantage.

You even created a complete set of notes

to accompany the manuscript

written in what you thought was Joan's old hand,

using this valentine card she once sent you as a joke,

to copy the handwriting.

- You don't know what you're talking about.

- [Barnaby] What you didn't know

was that Arthur Leggott knew who Hedge was

long before any of us did.

And you didn't know that it was Arthur's wish

to give that manuscript to John Farrow.

- Why would I go back to his house?

- To place it where you knew it would be taken for auction.

And you certainly didn't expect him to turn up

at his home in the middle of the night.

(thudding)

Having killed Arthur Leggott,

you couldn't leave the forgery on the premises, could you?

In case we were to remove it before the auction.

So you took it with you didn't you?

After you'd ransacked the place

to make it look like the work of an opportunistic burglar.

So you waited at the auction

to see who was going to buy up the box files,

then saw your chance and you slipped in the manuscript.

So there it was, waiting for Harvey Crane to take the bait.

Which he did.

He sold it to your colleague, Owen Swinscoe.

- Ladies and gentlemen.

- It is our greatest pleasure--

- But what you didn't foresee was that Laura Crawford

would unveil Joan Alder's daughter, Sarah.

And that that would lead to John Farrow

revealing his identity.

And you couldn't have foreseen, could you,

that John Farrow would sell a love letter from Joan

so he could afford to take his daughter out to dinner.

But if Owen Swinscoe were ever to compare that letter

with the manuscript, you knew he'd realise it was a fake.

And he did.

- Do you think they're married by now?

Or don't you care?

- This valentine card you so helpfully provided

to assist in the authentication of the manuscript,

it didn't contain all the letters of the alphabet, did it?

Some of them were missing,

like the letter F and the letter G,

and you guessed how they were formed

and you guessed wrong and you knew that

the minute you saw the love letter

and you knew something had to be done.

So you waited for Owen Swinscoe outside The Badgers.

You watched him leave, walk across the road,

walk towards the bridge.

(yelling)

- You bloody fool, give me the letter.

- I haven't got it.

(splashing)

- You have a lot in common with popular music, Inspector.

Crude

and repetitive.

I should be somewhere listening to a masterpiece.

- You killed Arthur Leggott

and then you killed Owen Swinscoe.

And then you realised Harvey Crane knew too much.

- And you saw your chance to lure him to Maybury's house

by creating another letter.

One which casts suspicion onto Maybury.

- [Scott] You knew Harvey Crane

couldn't resist a bit of blackmail

and you knew that the first place he'd go

was The Old Rectory.

- We were only a few feet away from you at that moment,

weren't we?

You hated Michael Maybury, didn't you?

Not because you thought he was responsible for Joan's death,

but because

she

chose him

over you.

You were infatuated by her, weren't you?

- I don't

expect you to understand, Inspector,

but I was the love of Joan's life

even at school.

You can quibble about your F's and your G's

but it was I who inspired her,

collaborated with her on Rhapsody.

I was the music student who didn't get into college.

I wasn't quite bohemian enough for them.

But by the time John Farrow took her off to South America

and got her into drugs,

our best work was done.

And this

proves it.

When she came back, with child, she was already sick

and men like Maybury preyed on her vulnerability.

The best days of Joan Alder's life were with me.

(laughing)

- Well you and I agree on one thing, Mr. Thorpe.

I too would much prefer to be listening to Joan's music.

Find him a cell, Scott.

And when he can make a sensible statement,

charge him.

- Yes sir.

(sombre classical music)