Original subtitles

(dramatic music)

(tapping on glass)

(birds singing)

(cellphone ringing)

Hello?

Well, where are you?

I've been waiting.

Why not-- say--

OK.

OK. All right.

Call me later when you get a chance.

(engine noise)

(car door closing)

(keys rattling)

(door squeaking)

(door closing)

(bangs against door)

(singing heard from church)

(crows cawing)

(singing in foreign language)

No, no, no, no, no, no!

Look.

I know this is a difficult piece.

That's the point.

It'll impress the judges.

But only if it's sung well.

And that's not happening!

You have to come off the line endings together.

At the moment, you sound as if you've

got a collective stutter.

Also, someone is singing a semitone flat.

Leo, I think it's you.

I don't think it is.

Well, I think it is you.

It's you or Connor.

Right?

Let's just try that again, please, from the letter C.

(pitch sounded)

(singing in foreign language)

(car door closing)

(birds singing)

No. No.

No. No.

Let's just try that again.

(singing in foreign language)

OK.

Get him into recovery.

He seemed fine when we started.

He's passed out.

His pulse is high, but it's coming down.

Do you think he'll be able to continue?

No.

I suppose we're going to call it a night.

How are you feeling?

OK. I'm fine.

Yeah.

You hit your head when you fell.

Go and see your GP and get a checkup, yeah?

Come on, Connor, I'll give you a lift home.

Oh, no. I'm all right, really.

You're in no fit state to drive.

I'll give you a lift back. I won't--

Now, look! I don't need a lift.

I will get a checkup.

And I'm all right.

Thank you.

(birds singing)

I'll walk you into the hall.

Steven?

No, I'll be fine.

Caro--

I thought we were rather good tonight, didn't you, Joyce?

I don't know.

But Lawrence would say so.

Laurence?

(laughs) Laurence is a perfectionist.

Sounded very good.

You like it?

Yes.

Did Connor Simpson say anything, you know,

about feeling unwell before choir practise?

Oh, I don't think so.

No.

He did seem quiet, perhaps.

Hey, fancy a quick one?

Why not?

We always do.

Well, it's thirsty work, this singing.

Hey!

(brakes screeching)

(dog barking)

(engine revving)

Large G and T.

Mm.

I could do with a drink after that.

Yes, and something to eat.

(clicks)

(rattling)

Oh!

(laughs) You made my heart stop.

Sorry.

I was just making some notes in the vestry for tomorrow.

Yeah.

I left my folder.

Oh, and I found this.

Must have fallen out of Connor's pocket when he fainted.

I'll drop it off on my way.

Laurence?

I wonder if you realise how hard you're pushing.

It's not an easy piece.

You said that yourself.

And we're all amateurs--

keen amateurs.

I think it's really beginning to come together.

Don't you?

Come together?

I'm going to win this competition, Stephen.

I don't want it to come together.

I want it to be glorious!

Glorious!

(door closing)

(bird squawking)

There was someone lurking in the church yard earlier.

Took off when I arrived.

Taking a short cut, perhaps?

No.

I don't think so.

Whoever it was seemed very anxious not to be seen.

I think I'll have the wild mushroom risotto.

I don't suppose you're going to take a risk for once?

I mean, there's ossobuco, the sweet breads, or the--

(snap)

Chicken pie, please.

And another pint of your excellent bitter.

I'll try the ossobuco next time.

Oh dear.

Give my best to Laurence.

Remind him it's a lost cause.

Francis Crawford-- he's the conductor

of the Aston Wherry Choir.

Oh, yes.

Don't they usually win?

(car engine running)

(doorbell ringing)

Hello?

Connor?

Connor?

You there?

Connor?

Oh, no, no!

(cellphone ringing)

- Connor?

Connor!

Are you there?

Oh, at last.

(cellphone ringing)

Oh.

Sorry.

It's just Jones.

Jones.

Where's that?

OK.

I'll meet you there.

I'm sorry, Joyce.

I'll see you at home, OK?

It's all right. I'll get a cab.

No, it's all right.

I can walk.

Here, take the car.

Were you the risotto or the chicken pie?

What's Stephen Latimer doing here?

He found the body, sir.

Says he picked up Connor's phone in the church.

Brought it round to return it.

Well, perhaps he did.

Put someone in the car with him.

He's not a suspect, sir?

Who says he isn't?

And apart from that, finding a body

can be an upsetting experience.

We don't want him keeling over, unattended, in a police car,

do we?

(whistle)

(door squeaking)

George.

Ah, Tom.

It's not difficult. It was a massive blow to the head--

extensive trauma, resultant shock causing cardiac arrest.

See there?

Matted hair, fragment from skull--

smears of blood on the handle up to here,

clean as a whistle from then on.

Killer wiped the handle?

Is that brandy in the glass?

Well, it would be, wouldn't it?

If you faint, brandy is the best pick me up.

Looks like there was a struggle.

This got broken.

Hm.

Right.

Let's take a look around.

(opens, closes cabinet)

(can rattling open)

Have you found anything?

Did Simpson have a girlfriend, sir?

Well, no idea.

Why?

Well, it's either that or he's a cross-dresser.

What do you think?

Jones.

Anything?

Spare bedroom.

And?

Looks like it's never used.

Come downstairs.

There's something I want you to see.

Connor Simpson wasn't the only one to have a brandy.

Connor's glass smashed when he fell.

After the attack, the killer brought his own glass--

that one-- back here, washed it up.

Put it away.

And Jones, there's more, much more.

Look at this.

(can rattling)

Human?

No, it's pig's.

Hook it out.

Aw.

Oh, come on.

Aw.

Looks like our Mr. Simpson had a more complicated life

than anyone imagined.

DC Jones tells me you came around

here to return a mobile phone.

Is that right?

The door was open.

Called, but no one answered.

I thought he'd fainted again.

Then I saw the blood.

Then his mobile phone rang.

The one you found?

Yeah.

(beep)

Who was it?

I don't know.

But was it a man or a woman?

She just said hello, Connor.

Are you there?

Then she hung up.

Caller's number withheld.

Oh. Have a look around.

Mr. Latimer, how well did you know Connor Simpson?

Oh, well, we weren't great friends or anything.

Now you were there when he fainted, weren't you?

Jumpy-- I thought Laurence might be the cause of it.

He's very eager, isn't he, to win

the Four Choirs competition?

(laughs) Look, the Four Choirs' competition

is a big issue with Laurence.

But Francis Crawford's no better.

Why are they such enemies?

Francis was recently appointed organist at Causton Cathedral

nice job, nice stipend, nice house, and the cathedral close.

Laurence wanted the job.

He accused Francis of lying on his CV.

And did he?

Wouldn't put it past him.

I used to sing in the Aston Wherry Choir.

I would have had an easier time as a gallery slave.

Is that why you switched allegiance to Midsomer Worthy?

Nothing to do with Carolyn Armitage?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I couldn't help noticing, you know, after the choir

practise, you and she--

Carolyn and I used to be close.

And now she's married.

She made a bad choice.

(engine starting)

It was spur of the moment, wasn't it?

Go on.

If the killer had gone around intending to murder Simpson,

he would have taken a weapon with him.

But he didn't.

And that's why he used the fire iron.

Well, that sounds right to me.

What about these pig's hearts, notes--

crime of passion?

Well, people in love do do desperate things.

Hey, look!

There he is again.

Who?

I don't know yet.

Pull up.

Stop the car.

(car stops, brakes screech)

Hey! You!

Stop!

(panting)

(owl screeching)

Police!

Stop!

Police?

Yes.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

What are you doing here?

- Twitching. - What?

I'm a bird watcher.

Barn owls are nesting up there in the hollow tree.

I was after a photograph.

I might've got one, too, if you hadn't rushed in,

shouting your head off.

Sam Judd, isn't it?

He's the estate manager at Hartsmede.

Used to be--

I was laid off.

For what reason?

No reason--

Giles Armitage fired me.

(scoffing) Huh.

Reckons he can handle the estate on his own.

The place is going to rack and ruin.

Damned fool!

He deserves all he gets.

Why did you run?

You were chasing me.

I didn't know you were the police.

Funny things happen in graveyards.

Were you here earlier?

No.

Were you here earlier, going across the graveyard

with your tripod?

Not me.

I was over at Hartsmede.

There's a pair nesting in a barn.

I've only just got here.

So if it's all the same with you, I'd like to--

Carry on twitching.

(car door closing)

Where have you been?

I haven't.

Where have you been?

Choir practise, as you know.

With Stephen Latimer breathing down your neck.

Giles, please.

Stephen and I finished a long time ago.

I'm sure he thinks of it like that.

Have you spoken to the bank yet?

I will.

Giles!

You fired Sam Judd without bothering to consult me.

To save money.

Since when?

Things have only got worse.

(ice clinking glass)

This is our home, but it is also a business.

I can't manage on my own.

Caro, you should stop worrying, for God's sake.

Come to bed.

It'll be fine.

I know what I'm doing.

Oh, you're doing something, are you?

I hadn't noticed.

I'll show the punters round, running commentary and all.

In a bored monotone--

I've seen visitors fall asleep standing up.

I didn't sign up for this, Caro--

to be a meet and greet monkey.

What did you sign up for, Giles?

Well, among other things, I signed up for this.

(owl screeching)

(cellphone ringing)

- Connor?

Hello?

Hello?

- Connor?

Yes.

This is Connor.

Who is it?

Good question.

(beeping)

(choral music)

So Bach for breakfast, is it?

It's Laurence's instructions.

All yours-- the man is a fanatic.

Oh, what's this?

Hand-delivered.

Yeah.

God, I'm late.

Hm, you should have something to eat.

You are right.

(smooch)

Ah!

(gasps) Ah! (glass breaks)

Tom?

Now either Sam Judd was lying, or I saw

someone else here last night.

Take a look around.

OK, sir.

Is Mrs. Barnaby all right?

Yes, she is.

Thank you.

It felt less certain when it turned out

everyone in the choir got the same letter.

(birds singing)

Joyce?

Have you seen Carolyn?

No.

She's probably on her way.

Uh, now it appears that-- oh.

(crowd chatter)

Hello?

Thank you.

Now it seems that everyone received a letter like this

with your morning mail.

Now obviously, we're going to get

a statement from each of you.

But before that happens, may I offer you

a few words of advice?

Best advice might be to withdraw from the competition.

Are you serious?

It's taken weeks to get you anywhere

near competition status, and you want to chuck it in?

This is a death threat, Laurence, a death threat!

You don't really think someone's plotting to knock

us off one by one, do you?

It's a practical joke.

It's got to be.

A joke?

Leo, you didn't see Connor stretched out on the floor,

covered in blood.

It wasn't much to laugh at.

We ought to think carefully whether to stay

in the competition.

You seem very keen to pull out, Steve.

I'm keen to stay alive.

(scofs) Huh!

Please!

I've been a member for six years.

And we've never won the Four Choirs.

Well, seven is my lucky number!

And I'm going to sing.

All right.

All right.

Let's see a show of hands.

Good.

Good!

Now all we need is another tenor.

(birds singing)

Uh, George?

Talk to you.

When's the post-mortem?

Tomorrow, a full report the day after that.

I could give you the results over dinner.

What dinner?

Dinner-- your place--

Joyce and Catherine arranged it.

Oh, that dinner.

Yes.

Yes.

Mr. Clarke?

We do need to take statements from everyone who received

a letter, including you, sir.

Just stepped out for a smoke.

You were standing next to Connor Simpson, weren't you,

when he fainted?

Had he said anything about, you know, feeling unwell?

Not a word.

Do you think he was anxious about something?

Well, if he was, he wouldn't have said anything to me.

I mean, he was just an acquaintance, someone

I saw in choir practise.

How long have you been a member of the choir then?

A while.

Sir?

Have a look at this.

Some jerk's tripod?

That's what I thought when I found this.

But why here?

You're right.

From this position, you can't see the hollow tree.

Get statements from the choir members.

Meet me up at the hall in half an hour.

I want to find out why Carolyn Armitage

wasn't at the meeting.

So why would he put his camera here?

I've got no idea, Jones.

I look forward to hearing your theory.

(fence squeaking)

Caro?

You say every member of the choir got one?

Yes.

Everyone.

Well, then it's obviously someone

with a warped sense of humour

and too much time on their hands.

Caro, we need to talk.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,

sorry to have kept you--

Giles Armitage.

Good afternoon, sir.

Good afternoon.

I was hoping to have a word with your wife.

About Conner Simpson's death, I imagine?

We were so shocked when we heard about it.

Look, I'm afraid Carolyn is out on the estate somewhere.

With a mobile phone?

No signal, I'm afraid.

Can I give her a message?

Yes.

Yes, you can.

Could you ask her please if she'd get in touch with me

as soon as possible on that number?

Of course.

You haven't been robbed, have you?

In a manner of speaking--

they're in London being reframed or cleaned

cost a small fortune.

Oh, thank you.

How do you think I felt coming back

and finding you'd married?

I don't know how you felt. I know how I felt.

Things change, Stephen.

People change.

Look, we're in sight of the hall.

You'd better go.

If Giles sees you, there'll be trouble.

Giles.

Giles can go straight to hell.

It's a wasted journey, Jones.

Apparently, Mrs. Armitage is unavailable.

Isn't that her?

Yes, it is.

That's Stephen Latimer with her.

You're trespassing, Latimer.

Get off my land, and stay away from my wife.

Oh, for God's sake, Giles!

You know how pathetic you look, hanging

around her like a whipped dog?

Oh.

Stop them, Jones, before someone gets hurt.

Hey!

Come, come on, you two!

Come on!

(splash)

All right!

That's enough!

You all right?

Absolutely wonderful, sir.

What are you waiting for?

A drying wind--

and permission to go home and change, sir.

Well, my place is closer than yours, unfortunately.

(doors closing)

Sam Judd, hiking across the estate as if he owns it.

He's birdwatching, Giles.

Hartsmede's a second home to him.

Not now-- tell him to keep off.

(cellphone ringing)

Carolyn Armitage.

Oh, hello.

What?

Yes.

Well, yes. All right.

I can meet you there. But tell me--

OK.

No, I won't say anything.

But why?

What?

Oh, good lord.

I bought that--

When you were a lot slimmer--

which is why it might fit Ben!

♪ O sole mio ♪

♪ La la la la ♪

♪ O sole mio, la la la la ♪

♪ O sole, O sole mio ♪

♪ Love you forever, la la la la ♪

A tenor!

Right.

Let's go and have a chat with Laurence Barker.

(car door opening, closing)

Does it fit?

Yes, sir, it does, yeah--

unfortunately.

The choir is short of a tenor.

Mrs. Barnaby heard you singing in the bath.

She thinks you would be a useful addition to the choir

and so do I--

in more ways than one.

(engine revving)

No, no.

There must be some other way.

There must!

All right. All right.

All right.

It's your call.

But no!

Listen!

Leave it to me.

(hangs up phone)

Of course, the business with Connor Simpson is terrible.

They said that he surprised a burglar.

Well, that's a possibility, yes.

Have you noticed any difference in Connor recently?

He seemed a little, well, short-tempered when

he recovered from his faint.

Really?

Um, just a sea of faces to me and a sound--

at the moment, it's a sound that could stand

some improvement.

Mm.

Look, I know there's always been a friendly rivalry

between the choirs.

But just lately, it seems more like musical warfare.

Well, I think you'll find that Crawford

is responsible for that. - Is he?

In what way?

He's pompous.

He's aggressive.

He's smug.

And he's a pretty poor conductor.

Who landed the plum job of organist at Causton Cathedral.

With a dubious CV and a sycophantic smile.

Well.

Tell me, Mr. Barker, if the Aston Wherry choir

is such a thorn in your flesh, why have you

got a picture of their church on your wall?

Not my choice.

I bought it.

This is my wife, Ellen.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Detective

Constable Jones, Causton CID.

Mrs. Barker.

Isn't it one of Connor Simpson's?

The tower is embedded with flint.

He liked the way the light struck it.

Were you a friend?

Why do you ask that?

Mrs. Barker?

No, not really.

I like his work.

Laurence doesn't.

Sorry.

I didn't mean to interrupt.

I just came to pick up these.

Is that you, Rainbow?

Mm, children's entertainer--

birthday parties, mainly.

Are you the fairy on the front?

Fairy, pixie, butterfly--

whatever you order.

My personal choice was Ophelia, but the Royal Shakespeare

Company weren't very impressed.

Come to think of it, nor were the Causton Players.

I hear you're a useful lyric tenor.

Why don't you come to the next rehearsal?

We'll find out how good you are.

(car engine running)

(owl hooting)

Do you think there was some tension

between Mr. and Mrs. Barker?

Oh, just a bit.

She'd been crying.

How could you tell?

I've been married a long time, Jones.

(door slams)

He knows something's wrong, Barnaby.

He knows we've got something to hide.

Things could be the way they were.

No one has to know.

If Crawford hadn't lied and wheedled

to cheat me out of the cathedral job,

things could have been different--

a new start for us!

No.

It's too late.

Oh.

I'm sick of hearing that.

And I'm sick of Aston bloody Wherry Church.

(glass breaking)

(door opening, closing)

I thought choir practise would be over by now.

Laurence will still be there.

The least I can do is make my apologies.

Give the miss.

Hm?

We could make a meal.

Get a bit drunk.

Talk-- like it used to be.

It will never be like it used to be!

(singing in foreign language)

Yes.

Well, that's a passable voice.

It's richer than Connor's, so that's all to the good.

He's a charmer, isn't he?

You've noticed.

Right-- I daresay you all want to get away.

So let's just have one last go at our Farmer piece.

(sounds pitch)

(high-pitched sound)

(birds cawing)

(engine starts)

♪ Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountain side ♪

♪ Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountain side ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not whither she was gone ♪

♪ La la la la ♪

♪ But after her lover, after her lover Amyntas hied ♪

(singing echoing)

(camera snapping)

(camera rattling)

(gun cocks)

(gun fires)

Sam!

(screaming)

(birds cawing)

Oh!

(police radio chatter)

(birds cawing)

Been here for a while?

15 hours, maybe more--

I'll give you a better estimate after the post-mortem.

Method?

Shot from close range with a 12 ball.

Standard game loading by the look of it--

everyone around here uses that.

No sign of a cartridge, I suppose?

Ah, you're thinking fingerprints?

No.

Well, I don't think he was shot here.

In fact, I'm sure of it.

The body was moved?

When the heart stops pumping, blood stops flowing.

There's no significant blood spill here.

There was no rain here last night, was there?

Exactly.

May I?

Oh, jeez.

I know, crows--

they always go for the eyes.

Hm.

Sir? We need some SOCOs.

Straight away, sir.

Looks like he was dragged through here.

Didn't find his camera?

Not in the churchyard, sir.

I suppose we'd better ask permission

to search on Hartsmede lands.

Sorry, Jones.

I didn't catch what you said.

(chain rattling)

That's blood.

Take a look.

(owl screeching)

Sir?

Some jerk's hat.

Killed here, then moved.

Somebody improvising.

What's up there?

I found this in the photographic vest Sam Judd was wearing.

Get it developed as soon as possible.

And get a search warrant for the Hartsmede estate.

Sir?

Retrospective authorization.

(car engine noise)

Giles?

Giles?

Is that you?

Go back to sleep.

You'll feel better if you sleep.

I can't remember.

What?

Anything-- am I ill?

Why am I in bed?

No, no, no, you must rest.

You'll feel better if you rest.

Mr. Barnaby?

I hope you haven't come to talk to my wife again.

I mean, she's um--

Sam Judd was killed yesterday, Mr. Armitage.

Killed?

He was murdered.

God.

He was taking photographs of owls roosting in your barn

when he was attacked.

He was murdered on my land?

I'm afraid so, yes.

Then maybe-- well, he used to be our estate manager.

Maybe he fell foul of the local poachers.

God, this is terrible.

I've really come to give you a warning.

What?

Put you on your guard.

Oh, yes.

Yes, thank you.

And to ask if we can have a look around the estate,

you know, looking for possible forensic evidence.

Is that all right?

Whatever you need.

Thank you.

So will we be seeing Mrs. Armitage at choir practise

tonight?

Oh, I'm afraid not.

She rolled the quad bike out on the estate--

bad concussion.

Is she all right?

Oh, she's fine. (cellphone ringing)

The doctor's prescribed a strong sedative.

She's dead to the world right now.

- Hello.

Jones.

What?

(door opening)

(door closing)

Yeah.

Just state who you are.

We're on the way.

There's been a break in at Conner Simpson's cottage, sir.

You were supposed to put a watch on that place.

Apparently, a house alarm started up nearby.

The PC went to investigate.

Came back to see someone running off.

He was only gone for a few minutes.

Let's take this out.

No need to disturb you.

You were running some checks on Connor Simpson again.

Any results?

Complete blank, sir.

It's as if he didn't exist before he

moved to Midsomer Worthy.

And now someone burgles the dead man's cottage.

Looking for what?

Every man keeps something of his past, Jones.

Who were you going to call, anyway?

I forget.

Who's to blame?

Is it me?

Is it you?

I don't know.

Well, somebody's to blame.

Then it must be me.

Oh!

(birds singing)

Any luck?

Nothing, sir-- photos of the area mostly.

Maybe he used them as a reference for his paintings.

Here's some of the man himself.

Well, maybe we've been looking in the wrong places.

OK, uh-- put that one on the police computer.

Get someone down to the morgue to take its fingerprints.

Well, well!

Either Simpson himself removed this photograph

for some reason or--

The break in.

Yeah.

Where'd you find this album?

Over there.

(clanging)

(background chatter)

(beeping)

This is Ellen Barker.

I can't take your call.

Leave a message and I'll get back to you.

Hi.

It's me, Ellen.

Uh-- we have to talk.

I know things have happened, bad things.

But it's nothing anyone can do to change that now.

I'm scared, really scared.

Everything has gone wrong.

It's all such a mess.

(beep)

Yes, sir?

A pint of bitter and a large brandy.

(phone rattling on table)

Thank you.

What's that?

A large brandy--

love life not going well, with impending

defeat in the Fall Choirs--

you need something to keep your spirits up.

You'll be the one drowning your sorrows.

(laughs) I don't think so.

Experience will tell, Barker.

Oh, if you're working with amateurs,

it's a good idea to steer away from the more difficult

pieces in the repertoire.

How do you know we're singing something difficult?

It's always the desperate man

who makes that sort of mistake.

No.

No, no.

You've got someone reporting back to you--

a spy!

Oh, dear!

You are getting paranoid.

Drink up!

Sir? Sir?

A pint of bitter and a large brandy.

(laughs)

You can't win by honest means, so you cheat--

just like the cathedral job.

Fake a CV, ingratiate yourself with the dean.

Anything else, sir?

Nothing so sad as a poor loser.

I got the job because I'ma better musician than you

and will win the Fall Choirs for just the same reason.

So I don't need this.

Thanks, all the same.

This isn't for you.

This is for you!

Oh!

(growls)

Ooh!

Oh!

(glass breaking)

(growling)

(punch)

Ah!

Aw!

I'll kill you, bugger!

I'll kill you!

(rotary dialling)

(church bells ringing)

(car door closing)

(knocking on door)

(door opens)

Mr. Crawford?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.

You took your time.

That's nasty.

It was a completely unprovoked attack.

I hope you've arrested him.

Oh, I'm sure that would suit your purpose certainly,

the Fall Choirs competition being just a day or so away.

But I've read the witness statements.

And unprovoked is not how they described it.

So we won't be bringing any charges against either of you.

That's outrageous.

I shall take the matter further.

Well, please feel free, sir.

But I wonder how the dean and chapter

would feel about their organist

being involved in a pub brawl.

You have a very pleasant living here, don't you, sir?

You're very lucky.

Luck wasn't the issue.

It was talent.

And a very impressive CV, I'm told.

(birds singing)

(singing in foreign language)

Well, it's not perfect.

But it's not a complete disaster, either.

(laughs)

Right.

Let's see what we can do with the madrigal piece.

Is that what passes for praise?

It is where Laurence Barker's concerned.

Right.

So I'll give you the note.

I have-- where's my--

right.

(sounds pitch)

(choir finds pitch)

♪ Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near the mountain side ♪

♪ Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone ♪

♪ Feeding her flock near to the mountain side ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not whither she was gone ♪

♪ The shepherds knew not whither she was gone ♪

♪ La la la la ♪

Carolyn!

What?

(machine whirring)

Who's that?

It's Johann Sebastian Bachby Elias Gottlieb Hausmann.

It's a local treasure.

So we thought we'd put it on the front of our programme.

Local?

Well, the original's up at the Hartsmede Hall.

It's their prime exhibit.

You said she was pointing.

No.

Oh, well, she seemed to.

At what?

The choir.

Anyone in particular?

Not that I could see.

And Leo Clark caught her when she fainted?

Yes, luckily.

Wonder who she was pointing at.

Well, why don't you ask her?

Well, yes, I'm going to try.

When I called the hall just now, Giles Armitage

informed me that she'll be seeing a specialist

sometime tomorrow morning.

And she might be available to speak to me after that.

(beeping)

(keyboard clicking)

(phone ringing)

Still nothing on Connor Simpson, sir--

a real mystery man.

You've circulated his photo in the print?

We're standing in line, as usual.

Well, keep at it.

He was an artist, wasn't he?

Why don't you try the art world?

Dealers, galleries, that sort of stuff.

Oh, Laurence Barker used his tuning fork

at rehearsals last night.

Oh, did he indeed?

(phone ringing)

Oh!

Tom!

Tom?

That's lucky.

You can get the wine.

Joyce, I'm on police business.

It's just the wine.

I'm not asking you to cook dinner.

All right. All right.

You What you giving him?

Haven't decided yet.

Ossobuco and sweet breads, perhaps.

What?

Bones and offal?

Doesn't George get enough of that at work?

Don't get any cheap stuff.

Honey?

- Hm. - Drink this.

It'll make you feel better.

No.

Drink it.

You have to drink it.

I'm so sorry.

I assume, George, that the post-mortem on Connor

Simpson was routine, was it?

He's a perfectly healthy chap

apart from the fractured skull,

of course.

I gather he wasn't the only one to pass out in church.

I rang Giles Armitage to find out how Carolyn was.

Is she better?

Under sedation.

You were there, George, weren't you?

What's your professional opinion there?

What did you think about it?

I didn't examine her.

Husband wanted to get her home.

She seemed unfocused.

There was a sort of foggy look around the eyes.

I'd have thought it was something more powerful

than a mere sedative.

Tom, this wine is spectacular.

What it it?

Good grief.

This must have cost 20 quid a bottle.

25.

No cheap stuff here.

Kath, I don't suppose that Carolyn

Armitage is with your practise by any chance, is she?

I know what you're asking me to do, Tom,

and it's strictly unethical.

Yes, but will you do it?

I expect you'd get some sort of warrant if I said no,

wouldn't you? - Definitely.

It's our last rehearsal tomorrow.

I'd love it if you came.

Tell me what you think.

What, me?

You trust my ear, would you?

I trust you to say what you think.

(dial tone)

(phone dialling)

(ringing)

- Hi, this is Cully.

I'm not here at the moment so please leave a message.

(beep)

Hello, darling.

Just confirming the weekend.

So good you're going to be here for the choir competition.

I'm getting nervous already.

See you then.

Bye!

Speed dial.

- What?

Speed dial.

(suspenseful music playing)

(phone ringing)

Hello.

Oh, Tom, it's Kath I checked our records.

You said that Giles Armitage claimed

his wife was seeing a doctor?

Yeah.

Well, it wasn't a doctor from this surgery.

And no one here's ever prescribed her tranquillisers

or sleeping pills.

Thank you.

Oh, and you didn't hear it from me.

- Oh, no.

(dramatic music)

Is this going to take long?

I'm trying to prepare the concert.

Just long enough to warn you about the penalties

for common assault, sir.

Francis Crawford went bleeding to the police, did he?

Tried to get me arrested.

Well, he made a complaint, sir, yes.

But I don't think it'll come to anything.

- I'd like to break his neck.

Oh, please don't, sir.

Nose was quite enough.

(phone ringing)

What is it?

It

It's Connor.

Oh, for God's sake, Ellen, Connor's dead.

It's not Connor.

Though I know how much you'd like it to be.

Party glitter.

Found some of that in Connor's cottage.

In the bath.

It started as an affair.

Just sex.

Plain and simple.

Except it was neither plain nor simple, really.

He was mad about me.

He wanted me to go away with him.

(laughing)

And I wanted so much to get away from here.

I knew he had secrets.

He would never talk about the past.

It wasn't the past I cared about.

It was the future.

We'll have enough money to start a new life.

The life you deserve.

- Did he tell you where the money was coming from?

No.

And to be honest, I didn't much care.

I'm sorry.

I should have left you years ago.

A failed actress.

Failed wife.

Things could be different, Ellen.

Even now.

I don't love you.

I don't know that I ever did.

I'm in love with a dead man.

(door closes)

Laurence, you dropped this.

Connor Simpson's cottage.

No, no, no no.

Here's mine.

There's only one music shop in Causton,

and they know you very well.

You bought a new tuning fork two days ago.

There was a police watch on the place.

I thought I'd have to give up.

(glass breaking)

(alarm blaring)

I knew I didn't have much time.

I just wanted to destroy any evidence of Ellen's affair

with Connor.

I didn't want you to find out about it.

I didn't want anyone to find out about it.

I thought that with Connor dead, then

perhaps Ellen and I could--

I still love her, Mr. Barnaby.

But I didn't kill Connor.

No.

No.

I don't believe you did.

Mr. Barnaby, what will happen to Connor's things?

To his possessions?

Oh, well, that depends on whether he made a will,

whether he's got relatives--

There's a painting of Midsomer Down.

He did it for me.

He told me so.

He had it framed the day before he died.

We used to meet on the down.

It was a special place for us.

Please.

(dramatic music)

Carol.

(singing in foreign language)

Our conductor is not a happy man.

And with good reason.

Hey, Jones, look.

There.

(dramatic music)

Tripod marks we found on the tomb?

Audio surveillance.

Twitching, with a difference.

Knowledge is power.

Have we got that right?

You eavesdrop on Midsomer Worthy choir

and that gives you the edge.

It helps to know what kind of standard you're up against.

And?

Midsomer Worthy are good, but not good enough.

You'll do anything to win, won't you?

Sneaking around the church with your expensive surveillance

gear.

Playing postman in the dead of night.

And please don't put me to the bother

of giving a DNA saliva test, because that

doesn't come cheap either.

Barker has been accusing me of doctoring

my CV to get the cathedral job.

All lies, of course.

But I need to win this competition.

I need to show people that I don't have to cheat.

I'm a good conductor.

Very.

And sending death threats is just part of the game, is it?

I'll be charging you with issuing those death threats.

Oh, Barnaby, please.

And, if you're very lucky, you might get bail.

Did you eavesdrop on every Midsomer

Worthy choir rehearsal?

So you'd be snooping around Midsomer Worthy on the night

that Conner Simpson was murdered.

(scoffs)

You don't think I had anything to do with that.

Yes, I know what's at stake.

And yes, I know what has to be done.

No.

Stay away.

Leave it to me.

Leave it to me.

Morning, sir.

Morning.

Ah, sir.

What?

Sam Judd's photo is back from the lab.

Oh, at last.

- These were on the front of the film.

Giles Armitage.

Connor Simpson.

And Leo Clarke.

Judd was filming them, wasn't he?

Make a record of their meetings.

Looks like.

So Judd might have taken other photographs

like this, wouldn't he?

- Yes, but--

Who's that?

- Carolyn Armitage.

Must have been on our way to meet him.

So if Judd picked up his photos from the high street

and was on his way to show them to Carolyn Armitage,

it was code for those photos.

Now look at this.

- Who's that?

It that Giles Armitage?

We've got to talk to Mrs. Armitage,

however indisposed she may be.

Come on.

Here we go.

That's right.

Just keep walking.

It's going to be fine. It's OK.

Just fine.

That's right.

A few more steps.

A few more steps.

That's right.

That's right, darling.

That's right.

Keep going, baby.

Keep going.

Keep going, baby.

That's right.

Let's keep walking.

Look.

(dramatic music)

Right.

Mr. Armitage, when did you first decide

that you had to kill her?

Got it wrong, Barnaby.

I've got it wrong, have I?

You just tried to drown your wife.

No, she was trying to kill herself.

I was trying to save her.

You ran off.

I wasn't running from you.

I didn't even know you were there.

I was running to get help.

I can't swim.

Is this going to be your story?

It's not a story. It's the truth.

I want to speak to my solicitor.

And so you shall, Mr. Armitage.

So you shall.

In the meantime, I'm arresting you.

And later on, I'll be charging you with the attempted

murder of your wife.

Now get him out of here.

Let's go.

(phone ringing)

Sir, we might have finally come up

with a match on Connor Simpson.

Seems he did have a past after all.

His name wasn't Simpson.

It was Pearson.

Connor Pearson.

And he had form, too.

Went down for five, served three.

What for?

Art forgery.

Seems he specialised in old masters.

Did he now?

Is there still a 24 hour watch on his cottage?

Yeah.

Lift it.

Remove all the scene of crime tape.

Make sure of it.

I can't remember. Just moments.

Fragments.

You were being drugged with rohypnol.

Short-term memory loss is one of the side effects.

Why would he drug me?

We know you were on your way to meet Sam when he was killed.

It seems pretty certain that Sam was going to show

you photographs like these.

He must have thought that would mean something to you.

But what?

I knew Giles gambled.

I knew he had money problems.

Did you know Connor Simpson and Leo Clarke

were friends of your husband's?

No.

But what difference does it make?

I'm not sure.

Will it come back? My memory?

I hope so.

At the moment, we're as much in the dark as you.

So are you telling me he tried to kill me?

Poor Giles.

Is she all right?

She will be.

They said I could go in once you'd left.

So why don't you?

She needs a friend right now.

Shouldn't Laurence have arrived by now?

Where is your father? - He'll be here.

(glass breaking)

(dramatic music)

Got it.

Yes.

Pastel sketch by Elias Gottlieb Haussmann.

That's Portrait of Johann Sebastian Bach.

Am I right, Mr. Clarke?

Hey, we're on last.

Gives us a chance to assess the opposition.

Shouldn't Laurence be here by now?

Oh.

I'm bankrupt.

So for you it was the business?

Connor Simpson wanted to start a new life with Ellen Barker.

And Giles Armitage-- had to be Giles Armitage, didn't it?

Because he had access to the Haussmann.

- Gambling. That's where we all met.

I don't think Giles was a bad player, really.

He just-- he just never got the run of the cards.

We went to a bar one night after the game.

We had all lost, but Giles was in the thousands.

You could always sell Hartsmede.

Sell the bloody Haussmann.

Except Karen would never agree.

What's The Haussmann?

Picture Karen inherited.

Famous, unique, worth a packet.

- I knew that Connor was a painter,

but I didn't know he'd done time for forgery.

So his absence would be noticed.

Definitely.

Unless there were two of it.

It was a conspiracy, wasn't it?

Between the three of you.

Armitage removed the picture saying

it was being re-framed along with several others that

needed attention.

Connor Simpson was to copy it, and your job

was to ship it out.

Giles already had a buyer in America.

And Armitage would replace the portrait with the copy.

But things didn't go quite according to plan, did they?

Because Connor Simpson had ideas of his own.

Once he got hold of the pastel,

Connor realised he didn't have to keep his side of the deal.

He could keep the original.

And what could we do about it?

Very clever.

It's being clever that got him killed.

So you upped the pressure on him.

Threats.

Pig's heart.

But things got out of hand, didn't they?

And you find yourself capable of cold blooded murder.

- I came round to the cottage after choir practise.

No, sorry.

- I was going to talk to him, but he wasn't having it.

What are you going to do?

Go to the police?

Tell them I've stolen something you already stole?

(laughing)

(phone ringing)

- And after you'd killed him,

you washed up your brandy glass and put it away.

- And then I started looking for the pastel.

When Steven Latimer him arrived, I ran out the back way.

And Sam Judd?

It started by following Giles, trying to get

evidence of his gambling.

Some sort of revenge for having been sacked I suppose.

(camera clicks)

- The three of you were meeting on a regular basis?

And you smelled a conspiracy.

And those photographs he took, they were

potentially damning evidence.

- They had a shot of us with the house.

That's what he told Carolyn.

That's very impressive.

How long would it take to-- to finish it?

Two, three weeks.

Can't you do it quicker than that?

- So after one murder, the second

didn't seem so difficult.

(gunshot)

Carolyn Armitage went to meet Judd, and she heard the shot.

(screaming)

We didn't know what to do.

Giles took her back to the hall, but we

realised we couldn't keep her under lock and key for long.

And then I had the idea of chemical handcuffs.

Rohypnol.

- It seemed to work fine.

She didn't know what day it was.

But we realised we couldn't keep her drugged forever.

It'll have to look like an accident.

Good.

(car starting)

(sirens blaring)

It's getting late, sir.

Oh, Yes. Yes.

You go to the church, Jones.

I'll put Johann Sebastian under lock and key.

And there's a couple of things I need to do.

Ben, have you seen--

Yeah, he's on his way.

Laurence?

No, Mr. Barnaby.

What about Laurence?

You want to know how you get to the point

where you're going to kill your wife?

It happens bit by bit, like a game of consequences.

You get married and you're happy.

And after a while, you're not quite so happy.

In fact, things aren't working out

the way you thought they would.

You think running in estate's glamorous.

You're a farm labour.

You're a navvy.

And then when the season starts, you're a bloody tour guide.

So you look for ways to take the edge off.

A diversion.

Could be booze, or women, or gambling.

You win a little, you lose a little.

Then you lose little more.

Then you lose a lot.

And so you come up with a plan.

A Victimless crime.

But the plan goes wrong.

Not just once.

It keeps going wrong.

And you're making it up as you go along.

And then, suddenly, out of nowhere,

you're making up the bit where someone has to die.

Where Carolyn has to die.

There is another version of that story.

One in which there are no excuses.

(audience applauding)

Where on earth is Laurence?

Cully, could you go and see if you

can find out what's happened?

It's too late.

We're on.

What are you going to do?

Withdraw I suppose.

Your conductor gone missing?

Sparing himself the humiliation, perhaps?

Well, he knew you couldn't win.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

We know these pieces backwards.

All that hard work.

All the bullying from Laurence.

It's only a matter of beating time.

Come on.

We can do this!

Go on, mum.

Come on.

You're on police bail, remember?

See you very soon.

(audience applauding)

(dramatic music)

There you go.

Needs re-framing I'm afraid.

Thank you.

Hope it doesn't cause any friction.

Laurence is gone.

He's gone?

Yes, he finally accepted that it's over between us.

He packed a few things and left.

But what about choir?

The competition?

He said-- he said he didn't care.

(car starting)

(engine revving)

(tyres squealing)

(choir singing)

(audience applauding)

- I'm sure we all agree, having heard all

the performances, that the deserving winners of the Four

Choirs trophy are Midsomer Worthy.

(audience applauding)

Well done.

(dramatic music)