Original subtitles

(soft Asian-styled music)

(people chattering)

- There's absolutely no doubt at all

perfectly in order to this one too

and fund it through a second bank.

- Thank you.

- [Charles] That would have to be near value.

- Just leave it to me.

Also, how do you feel about these two?

What do you think about that?

(phone ringing)

- Charles King.

- It's Hilary.

- [Charles] Oh Hilary, my dear.

How are you?

- Fine.

- Alan, it Hilary.

- Thank you.

Darling, you have news?

- Yes, the Arts Council grant's been approved.

The theatre can reopen.

- Brilliant.

- Yes, wonderful.

Ian's down from Cambridge.

- Well done, dad.

I'll pick you up at Heathrow tomorrow.

- I can't wait to see you.

- How's it been out there?

- Charles and Peter Baxter have done all the business.

I've just been an idle tourist.

Anyway, I'm leaving 'em to get on with it

and I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

- Safe journey.

- Bye.

Well we've saved the theatre.

- Good.

Let's hope we've saved the business as well.

(foreboding Asian-styled music)

(people laughing playfully)

(tyres screeching)

(fire whooshing)

(people shrieking)

(eerie intriguing music)

(glass clinking)

(fire whooshing)

(siren wailing) (people chattering)

- Look at this here.

- [Worker] C'mon, what is it?

- What's that? - I can't believe it.

- Oh come on.

Jack, take a look at this.

- [Worker] Come here.

Look.

Oi boys, come and have a look at this.

- [Worker] What the hell is that?

- Wouldn't you just know it?

(car horn honking)

(workers muttering)

- [Worker] What's the meaning of this, eh?

- What's all this then, Mr. King?

- I don't like your tone, Tewson.

- No more than I like yours, Baxter.

- We're trying to raise capital to save your jobs.

- Alan King would never have done this

and he's not even in his grave yet.

- I think I know what my brother's wishes were, Jack.

I'll see you at the funeral I hope.

- Oh, you will.

(car engine roaring)

(car horn honking)

- Go on, get lost. - That's it, is it?

- Go on, eh?

(sombre orchestral music) (birds chirping)

- You family?

- Friend of Ian's, Alan King's son.

(sombre orchestral music)

(women laughing) (people chattering)

(cheerful orchestral music)

(camera clicking)

- [Man] Come on.

You see no curlies.

(people chattering)

- Lovely.

- Where's Ian?

- I don't know.

- (chuckles softly) Now bride and groom, best man and wife.

- Peter on my right.

- Have you seen Ian?

- I think he's around the back

mooning about with that nancy boyfriend of his.

- Dad. - What?

- Ignore him, Hilary.

- Now everyone, this way.

(camera clicking)

Say one, two, three.

(people cheering)

(people muttering) (sombre orchestral music)

- You're wanted.

- Sorry, I'm not grinning in some cheesy photograph.

- Give it a rest, Ian.

- Dead just six months

and she's coupling up with his brother.

It's disgusting.

- That is so unfair.

- Is this fair to my father?

Does she care?

- Hilary was devastated when your father died.

If you'd stayed around, you would've known that.

- She wanted me out of the way, back at university.

- Charles supported her through it all, Ian.

He was here for her.

He loves her.

- That's fine then.

Let's all move on.

Here's to the happy couple.

- She's entitled to her happiness.

She needs you.

Please don't push her away.

You're pushing everyone away, Ian.

- People are leaving.

(people chattering)

(sombre piano music)

- Ian, is this what your dad would really want?

- Knowin' my father he'd most likely say,

"Good luck, Hils.

"Go for it, make your fun happen."

- So how can we put a smile on your face?

- By not goin' to this bloody reception.

- Okay, so we give it a miss.

Come on.

Let's get hammered, get down a club.

- This is Midsomer.

There's only Causton.

- Only?

Nowhere better?

Every hour's happy hour in Causton. (chuckles)

(people chattering)

- Beautiful dress, Soph.

- Oh, thanks.

- You haven't forgotten Tuesday.

- Oh, I can't make it.

I'm sorry.

We'll do it another time, James okay?

Sorry.

Truly sorry.

- Everybody, ready?

(people cheering)

- Yes, fantastic.

- Gotta say she's very fit and she knows it.

- How embarrassing.

- Don't tell me you fancy her.

- (chuckles softly) Wrong gender, love.

But she definitely fancies you.

(people chattering)

- This I do not believe.

How dare you come here.

- [Jack] Just making a point.

- Today of all days.

- We're not going anywhere, Baxter.

We're not gonna sit in our homes like dumbbells.

- Go on clear off, all of you.

Go on, clear off!

- Not until you see us right!

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Clear off!

- You clear off. - You clear off.

(workers shouting)

(sombre orchestral music)

- You owe us. - Yeah.

- Let go!

- Just go.

- You will pay for this.

- [Worker] This ain't goin' to end here.

(workers shouting)

- What's all this about a pension's money?

- Vanished, like snow off a roof

slipped quietly into your family's pockets.

- I promise you I know nothing about this.

- Oh, you're going hear about it loud and long.

In the meantime, go and swill your champagne

and remember: We bought it for you.

- Ian, c'mon.

- [Worker] Yeah, where's our money?

(car engine roaring) (car horn honking)

(workers shouting)

(car horn whirring)

(workers booing)

- [Worker] Where's our money?

- All three Gifford brothers stood in the dock smirking.

- And?

- Judge Lloyd starts, "10 years, 12 years, 10."

It's a great result.

- Yes!

Yes.

(envelope rustling)

Ow!

- You all right, sir?

- [Tom] Paper cut.

- Ooh, dear.

(siren wailing)

- Oh, it's from Cully.

She's playing at the old Open Air Theatre, you know.

They just reopened it and this is their first production.

Would you stick that up on the notice board?

- Find Shakespeare a bit hard-going,

to be honest with you, sir.

Bit of a snore.

- Yeah, well four hours on a stone seat in the open air.

Think that'll be hard-going, all right?

- Four hours?

- Yes.

Well unfortunately Jones,

brevity was never the soul of Shakespeare's wit.

- Yeah, sentences longer than Judge Lloyd's.

(Tom chuckling softly)

(dog barking) (birds chirping)

- Oh, perfect.

Just the right shade.

How much do I owe you?

- [Hilary] Don't be silly.

- Hi, Soph.

Would you like to join us for lunch?

Ian's working down in the water meadows.

- No thanks.

Give him my love.

- I will and his to you, I'm sure.

Ciao.

- Did you see Ian while I was away?

- No.

He's not returning my calls.

It's like there was never anything between us.

- No, I can't reach him either.

- I think that maybe

he's still grieving for his father's death.

- And my marriage.

He's so angry with me, Sophie.

So angry.

- Here in this Worshipful Lodge of the Vale of Midsomer,

I hereby do most solemnly promise and swear

that I will always hail.

(door squeaking)

The secrets, arts, parts,

points of the Master Mason's degree.

- The Worshipful Master's rehearsing the Third Degree

and cannot be interrupted.

- Don't be ridiculous.

- You cannot enter the temple in a state of undress.

- Outta my way.

- Murder and treason excepted.

- Outta my way! (door rattling)

- [James] Sorry, Worshipful Master.

- Charles, we need to speak.

- Could you wait without please, James?

- Tewson has been pouring poison into the receivers' ears.

They're querying the accounts.

- It's a receivers' job.

Routine, Peter.

That's all.

- Charlie, if those figures come unwrapped, we are liable.

- You're the accountant.

- Look, if this is you wriggling, forget it.

You signed the accounts.

They're asking some very, very difficult questions.

- I'm sure we'll find the answers

as long as you don't panic.

I'll sort out Tewson.

Now go home and get a grip.

(soft orchestral music)

- Cully, love.

Gimme that.

- Thanks.

- What you got in here?

- Costumes for the play.

- Well haven't you got somebody to do that for you,

like wardrobe people?

- It's not a west end job, dad.

It's 200 quid a week and wash your own frocks.

- How much?

- We're actors.

We do it for love.

- Certainly not for money.

- [Sophie] It's for sale.

- He wasn't bluffing then.

- Doesn't look like it.

You can't do this, dad.

I go away for a couple of days.

- It's my house!

I'll sell it when I see fit.

- I'm not moving.

What happened?

Who did this?

- Who do ya think did it?

Mob from the factory, I expect.

(glass rattling)

And I'm not staying here to get any more windows smashed.

I've had enough.

- And what about me?

What am I supposed to do?

- Just grow up and look after yourself for a change.

- Hey Soph, you all right?

- Yeah, I'm fine, James.

Thanks for the lift. - Okay.

- You are not welcome here either.

(birds chirping)

(dark foreboding music)

(dagger clanking)

(dog barking)

(door creaking) (glass rattling)

- (sighs) What are you doing here?

(car horn honking) (car engine roaring)

- Idiot.

(dark foreboding music) (water trickling)

- About five minutes ago.

Lying in the stream.

Yes, I do.

His name is Baxter.

Peter Baxter.

- [WPC] He's down there.

- [WPC] You see anything?

- [WPC] No.

- Tom.

The lungs are full of water,

but it's not a straightforward drowning.

- Was he held under?

- There's a stab wound,

entry between the sixth and seventh rib.

It collapsed the lung and left a sucking wound

that's drawn in water.

- Weapon?

- Nothing so far.

- [Tom] Time of death?

- Some time last night.

I'll know better later, hopefully.

- [Tom] Thank you.

- The victim's name is Peter Baxter.

That's his car.

- [Tom] So he came down here to meet someone.

- Yeah or brought someone down here maybe.

He lives nearby according to Mrs. King.

She found him.

- [Tom] I see her.

Right, you carry on here.

- Sir.

- Mrs. King,

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.

- I've given my statement to this young woman.

I'd like to go home now.

- Yes, yes, of course.

I was just wondering how well did you know Mr. Baxter?

- Peter was chief accountant at my husband's firm,

King's Crystal.

Look, I was collecting flowers this morning

and there he was in the stream.

He's got a daughter, Sophie.

I'd like to be the one to tell her what's happened.

- No, that's all right, Mrs. King.

We'll handle that.

Right.

Okay thank you, that's it.

You can go now.

But would you mind leaving that knife with me please?

- As long as I get it back.

(soft intriguing music)

- Thinking of buying, sir?

- (scoffs) Not without robbing a bank.

- Can I help you?

- [Tom] Miss Baxter, Miss Sophie Baxter?

- Yes.

- I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

This is Sergeant Jones from Causton CID.

May we come in?

- I'm sorry about the mess.

- Miss Baxter,

I'm very sorry to have to tell you

that Mr. Baxter, your father, was found dead this morning.

- We're also treating it as a murder.

(Sophie breathing heavily)

- [Tom] Miss Baxter, when did you last see your father?

- Yesterday, here.

We had an awful row.

It was about the house.

- About selling the house?

- Yes.

I suppose he just pushed someone too far.

- Any idea who?

- No.

I know there's been business worries.

- What, to do with King's Crystal?

I remember there's a lot of bad press about its closure.

- When I tried to talk to him,

he'd just say I was spoiling his drink.

- So he'd made enemies.

- My father didn't know how to make friends.

(window tapping)

- Sorry, Soph.

- Oh, James.

These are the police.

- Oh.

(sombre orchestral music)

I just heard.

Oh, come here.

(Sophie weeping)

- I will leave you two to talk, Mr.?

- Taylor,

James Taylor.

(Sophie sobbing)

- [Ian] I'm not sorry he's dead.

- Don't say such things, Ian.

Why are you being so hateful to everyone?

- Oh am I?

- It's about me and Charles, isn't it?

I know it's difficult, but can't you just respect?

- Respect?

- I loved your father as much as you did, Ian.

Alan was-- - Mother,

you hardly had time to change the sheets

before you were screwing his brother.

- Ian!

Keep a civil tongue in your head.

- Since when do you give me orders?

- Oh stop it, Ian.

Don't. - Don't what?

(birds chirping)

And you married him, I didn't.

- [Hilary] Ian.

- [Tom] Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.

- Charles King, how do you do?

- Detective Sergeant Jones.

(soft intriguing music)

- How do you do?

Dreadful news about Peter.

Shall we go inside?

- Was he in any way responsible

for the company's bankruptcy?

- The firm was past its sell-by date.

We're trying to start afresh in Shanghai.

- You mean King's Crystal's going to be made in China.

- In 20 year's time, everything will be made in China

and one has to move with the times.

Can I get you a drink?

- No, no thank you.

Mr. King, we suspect that Mr. Baxter was murdered.

- Murdered,

by whom?

- Well I understand that he made enemies

when King's Crystal's closed down.

- We did receive threats, yes.

- Were they verbal letters?

What were they?

- Were demonstrations.

- When you say demonstrations,

you mean workers of the factory?

- Yes, chap called Tewson was the ringleader.

Jack Tewson.

Peter wouldn't go out of his way to be popular,

but he was fair and on the square with everybody.

I've lost a friend and a brilliant accountant.

(birds chirping)

- [Tom] Alan King, that'd be Charles King's elder brother.

- He owned half of King's Crystal with Charles,

but Alan was always a sleeping partner.

- "Teacher of drama."

Would that be at Causton Comprehensive?

- I believe so.

- Yes, I remember him.

He was a lovely man.

It was he who first introduced Cully to the stage.

- Well this stone's gonna be laid at the theatre.

He raised most of the money to reopen it.

- Charles King and Peter Baxter

were in some money trouble over King's Crystal, that right?

- There's been talk, yes.

- Mr. Taylor, were you there when the big row erupted

between Sophie and her father yesterday?

- Yes, I drove her home.

She got upset about him selling the house.

- Are you and Sophie close?

- Used to be, yes.

Baxter put the blocks on it.

He wanted to match her with Ian King, her class of person.

He thought I was chasing a meal ticket.

Accountants: money's all they see in everything.

They're sayin' 'round the village he drowned, that right?

- No, he was stabbed.

- Stabbed?

(chuckles softly) Now I get it.

Well you're wastin' your time lookin' at me.

- Right, George.

Yeah.

That's good.

They're still searching?

Right, thank you.

It's Bullard.

The murder weapon was a sharp implement eight inches long

and there's still no sign of it.

- Charles King, sir.

He's Mr. Clean, not even a speeding ticket.

Director of several companies, spotless credit check.

He's divorced and recently remarried.

- And he's a mason.

- Ah, you spotted the handshake.

- Yes, I did.

- I think I should tell you

I once was a member of the masons.

- Were you?

- Yes, sir.

Causton Lodge.

Thought it might help my promotion.

- I never know policemen, masons.

There's always the perception of divided loyalty,

isn't there?

But your masonic membership may come in useful on this one.

- If it takes us there, fine by me.

- I've invited Sophie for dinner.

She shouldn't be on her own after what's happened.

- That'll be nice.

- Maybe you'd like to join us.

- No thanks.

Dave and I are busy.

- Ian, please.

I can't take much more of you being like this.

- How'd you like me to be?

- I'd like my son back.

That's what I want.

Do you hate me so much?

(soft intriguing music)

(David sighing)

- Don't take it to heart, Hilary.

- Will you be staying much longer?

- For as long as he wants me to if that's all right.

(birds chirping)

- This is 2,000 pounds.

We can do something simple for 500,

only goes up in flames anyway.

- Whatever.

You take care of it.

- And what about you, Soph?

(sombre orchestral music)

Will you let me take care of you?

- Oh, James.

- Now he's gone, there's nothing standing between us.

I love you, you know that.

- James, please don't.

Not here, not now.

Please don't.

- It's Ian, isn't it?

You're still burning a candle for him.

Is Ian stood on your doorstep askin' you what you need?

Is he the one taking care of you?

No, I am.

- James, I appreciate everything you've done for me.

I'm sorry.

- It's amazing, isn't it? - Mm-hmm.

- I bought my gran a piece of King's Crystal

for her ruby wedding.

She's still got it.

- I thought this place has been closed down.

- It has.

We just completed an audit for the receivers.

(sighs) Listen to that.

Dead silence.

Full of machines once making stained glass, art glass.

Blowing shops all along the back.

Near to a hundred worked here, craftsmen and women.

All gone now.

Still I suppose you're here about Baxter.

I'd like you to come with me.

There's something I think you ought to see.

You know, I can't pretend

I was too sorry to hear about Baxter.

- [Tom] Did you threaten him, Mr. Tewson?

- We had words from time to time.

This is Baxter's office.

This is normally kept closed and locked.

But we were broken into last night

and it looks like they were looking for something.

- Looking for something.

Looking for what, Mr. Tewson?

- I don't know, evidence perhaps.

Money's disappeared.

Our redundancy pay, our pensions.

- Where were you last night?

- I was at home alone drinking.

I've been doing a lot of that these days.

- Got any ideas then, who might've done this?

- I don't know.

It could be Alan King's son, Ian.

He inherited part of the company,

but Baxter and his uncle

are keeping him in the dark about it.

Perhaps he came to look.

- And do you know Ian well enough

to think he might do such a thing?

- I know he's not a happy boy.

- Go on, Mr. Tewson.

- His mother, the merry widow, married his uncle Charles

and I know he's very upset about that.

- Okay thank you, Mr. Tewson.

Thank you.

- Bye.

- I'm doing a PhD in Biology.

The insect life of Midsomer's water meadows.

- Yes, but we are investigating the death of Peter Baxter.

- Not seen him for days.

- I saw Mr. Baxter last night.

I was out posting a letter

and he nearly wiped me up with his car.

- What time was this, Mr.?

- Monroe.

David Monroe.

Must've been about 11-ish.

- Where were you at that time?

- I'd gone for a walk.

- You didn't go to the King's Crystal factory.

- No.

I've not been there since dad died.

- Yes, your dad left you part of the family business

I understand.

- He left me shares, yes.

- Were you involved with Mr. Baxter

and your uncle in the closure of the factory?

- No. - No.

- And if my father had been alive,

he'd never allowed it to happen.

The rot set in after he died.

- What do you mean the rot?

You mean corrupt practise

on the part of Charles King and Peter Baxter?

- Those two were as close as the fingers on your hand.

Not a scrap of conscience between them.

- What about your mother, Hilary?

What was her involvement with the company?

- Who knows?

All my life I thought I knew my mother.

Whoever she is, she hides it well.

- Hides what?

- I thought she loved my father and then she goes and--

- [David] Ian.

- So you'd met Mr. Baxter before, have you?

Since you recognised him last night.

- Yes, a few times.

Nasty puffball of a man.

He used to call me the nancy boy.

I'm sorry he died how he did,

but well maybe the gods are happy.

(cellphone ringing)

- Yeah.

(soft intriguing music)

Ah,

good.

Yeah, be there in a couple minutes.

They found the murder weapon.

- [WPC] Sir.

- Tom.

(soft intriguing music) (birds chirping)

- That's a ornamental dagger of some sort.

- That's a masonic ceremonial dagger.

- Is it?

- Yeah.

See the symbol there?

Set square and compass.

(intriguing orchestral music)

- What's these letters?

- J-O-B.

16-12-02.

- J-O-B.

- Someone's initials and a date?

- Possibly.

- Just how many of your father's books

do you really want to keep?

"Secrets of Ancient China?"

- Oxfam. (blows)

My father's masonic regalia.

- Ah, one of the secret squirrels, was he?

(dagger sheathing)

(intriguing orchestral music)

- It fits the entry wound

and there's a DNA match to Baxter.

There's a piece missing from the tip of the blade,

fresh break.

The knife might've hit a rib,

but the fragment's not turned up yet.

- Anything else?

- And Hilary King's pruning knife.

Clean, no connection.

So that's it for me.

- [Tom] Well thank you, George.

Thank you.

- Fraud Squad says King's Crystal looks a bit iffy.

Several paper companies shuffling money about.

- Is there any sign of Baxter's cap yet?

- No, sir.

We're still looking.

- J-O-B.

Peter Baxter was an accountant, wasn't he?

He could've been a mason.

But these are not his initials,

so maybe he was stabbed by another member

of the brotherhood.

(intriguing orchestral music)

- I've got it!

Sorry, sir.

J-O-B: It stands for Yahweh, Osiris and Baal.

They're the ineffable trinity of masonic gods.

- Are they? - Yes.

- So these are not the initials of a particular member.

- No.

- But Charles King is certainly one of the cloth, isn't he?

- Maybe he found out Baxter had his fingers in the till.

- Could very well be.

- Want me to do some digging, sir?

- Yes, I do.

The masons may not be a secret society,

but they are certainly a society with secrets.

(shredder grinding)

- There's a Sergeant Jones to see you.

- Show him in.

Good afternoon.

- Sorry to disturb you, Mr. King.

But I think you might be able to help me,

if we can speak on the square.

Can I show you this?

We believe it was used to kill Mr. Baxter.

(birds chirping)

Ever seen it before?

- I've seen many like it.

It's a poignard,

a replica of our ceremonial dagger.

Every apprentice in the Midsomer Lodges receives one

on being entered as you'll be aware.

- Yes, but I've never seen one

with a date stamped on it before.

Here the 16th, the 12th, 02.

- No, no.

Our Lodge uses a simple code.

The numbers are letters of the alphabet.

16 is P.

12 is L.

2 is B.

- PLB.

- Peter Leonard Baxter.

This was Peter's.

- So where would he have kept this, at home?

- He was a little cavalier about matters masonic.

Often it'd be in his briefcase.

He used it sometimes in his office as a paper knife.

- Thank you, it's been very helpful.

- And you're a little rusty about matters masonic.

Our regular Lodge meetings

are second Thursday of every month.

Visitors always welcome.

- Thanks.

Better get my apron ironed.

(intriguing orchestral music) (birds chirping)

- [Tom] Hello, Ian.

- Looking for me?

- No no, just out for you know, a walk.

- Is Cully Barnaby your daughter,

the actress playing Ophelia?

- Yes, she is.

Of course, it was your father who raised the money

to reopen the theatre, wasn't it?

- It was one of my dad's dreams.

After he died, I wanted to see the project through.

- I thought you were a biologist.

- I am.

But since I found myself standing in for my father,

I took advantage of the situation and chose "Hamlet"

as the first production for my mother.

- Her favourite?

- No, just thought it'd do her good to see it.

I must go.

I've got some business to do.

Bye. - Catch you.

- There's rue for you and here's some for me.

Oh, you must wear your rue with a difference.

There's a daisy.

I would give you some violets,

but they withered all when my father died.

They say, "A made a good end."

- Okay thank you, Cully love.

Hold it there.

Take a break, everybody.

Next call, Hamlet.

- [Woman] Can you bring it back to wardrobe please?

- Cully. - Yes.

- Yes, delicious, very nice.

But a bit too winsome perhaps.

Forget the acting, just a bit more unstable, hmm?

- Okay.

- Right, Hamlet.

We'll have another go at to be or not to be.

And listen, the man is 28 years old, not 16.

So less hormonal and much more metaphysical.

- He's a hard man to please.

- Tell me about it.

The man couldn't direct traffic.

- [Woman] Somebody keeps moving it off the props table.

(hammer banging) (birds chirping)

- The wound shows an angle of entry, something like that.

So Baxter could've killed himself.

- And then dropped it in the stream?

- It's possible.

But what about the missing fragment

from the tip of the blade?

It's definitely not in the body.

- This is not adding up, is it?

Baxter left no note.

He was selling his house.

He was moving on, not killing himself

and there are no prints on that dagger.

- He was wearing driving gloves.

- Yes but he regularly used it as a paper knife,

so the handle was obviously wiped clean.

- 'Course. - Now Baxter was murdered.

Jones, I want you to take up

Charles King's invitation to visit his Lodge.

- Sir.

- Keep an eye on him and see who else has taken vows

at the Vale of Midsomer chapter.

- It's a hanging offence

to betray the brothers' secrets, sir.

- You got a problem with that?

- No, no.

I'll survive I hope.

- [Jack] Come on, lift it!

- [Worker] That's your 15.

(siren wailing)

Keep a look out.

- [Worker] (chuckles) Don't do two more.

- [Charles] What's this about?

- Was just remembering how it was when I was a kid.

- It's gone, Ian.

We can't change yesterday.

- No.

I wanted to say to you, Charles.

I know I've been a top-class pain the past few months.

- You certainly have.

- I wanted to apologise.

I was very close to my father.

- I loved him too, Ian.

- I felt angry all this has come to nothing.

- No, it hasn't.

We're finished here, but we'll be expanding abroad.

I can show you the plans.

- I'm not a businessman.

- Nor was Alan.

But when we were in China together,

he could see for himself.

He could understand why we had to make the change.

And I'm sure his best wish

would be that you could be as passionate

about the future as he was.

- Maybe we should talk about it.

- I'd prefer that to the verbal battering

I've been getting.

- Sorry.

- I have to say I've been worried about you.

- My head's been in a bell for god knows how long.

- This is all very sudden.

What's happened?

- I don't know.

I woke up this morning and something had lifted.

I felt released.

- Ian,

I have no heir.

No son.

I'd like nothing better than

that you and I should be family.

- I'd like that too.

I think it's what dad would've wanted.

(birds chirping)

- Ah, hello.

What have we here?

- Off to stick up some playbills.

- Are you?

Now Joyce, you do know that strictly speaking

fly posting is illegal.

- Have a day off, dad.

We gotta publicise the show.

Did you stick up the one I sent to the station?

- Well yes, I did.

But that was inside in the police canteen.

- Good.

Well here, take a few more.

See if they'll put them up

in some of your regular watering holes.

- Cully, Joyce.

I really do think--

- Tom, it's hardly the crime of the century.

- Well on your own heads be it.

- Ooh, scary.

(soft whimsical music) (lips smacking)

(birds chirping) (flies buzzing)

(cellphone ringing)

- David.

Where's lunch?

(dark foreboding music)

(heart thumping)

- Yeah, bye.

Hey! (gun blasting)

(birds chirping)

(both grunting)

- Let go, let go!

- [Ian] What's happening?

- He was aiming at you.

- Don't talk rot.

I was after rabbits!

- That's not what it looked like to me.

- Give him his gun, David.

- Give me the gun.

- It's Jack, isn't it?

You're Jack Tewson.

- That's right.

- We met outside the church at the wedding.

I remember seeing you blowing glass as a kid

when my father brought me 'round the factory.

Fantastic.

- Yeah?

I worked for 30 years for your family,

a lifetime's apprenticeship

and then they just walked off and left me potless.

Believe me, fantastic is not the word.

- The company's gone bust, friend.

It happens.

- So does fraud, embezzlement, thieving.

- Not my father.

- We all thought that.

But I bet he's left you your share, hasn't he?

- He might've been hunting rabbits,

but I swear he had you in his sights.

- He had been drinking.

Maybe he was tempted.

Maybe he has got reason if the company has ripped him off.

- Whatever, you're not responsible.

- Neither was my father.

Craftsmen like Tewson were his people.

He admired them.

He felt responsible for them and so do I.

- Our masonic temple is fashioned of living souls

and each entered apprentice shall wear this apron.

This is his body of mortality,

his veil of flesh and blood clothing his inner soul.

His badge of innocence and purity given to all

by the great architect of the universe.

This apron shall he wear

as we wear these our gloves of white,

for we have each washed our hands in innocence.

(staff banging)

(intriguing orchestral music)

(staff banging)

Who seeks entrance?

- A poor candidate in a state of darkness,

hoodwinked and slipshod seeks entrance.

- Let him be entered.

(dagger sheathing)

I receive you at point of knife pressed to your naked breast

to teach you as this is a torture to your flesh,

so would it be to your conscience

if you ever fail to keep

a brother mason's secrets inviolable.

You will pledge ever to conceal, never to reveal.

All secrets, murder and treason excepted.

(people laughing)

- I knew them when they were lads.

Worked for me here in their school holidays.

Chalk and cheese.

- How's that?

- Charles had a business head on him even then, practical.

Alan was on another planet.

- Whoa, look who's here.

It's you, is it eh?

You finally found your way down here, have you?

- Mr. Tewson, please.

- [Jack] That Baxter was a thief.

I mean if you shook hands with him,

you had to count your fingers.

I wasn't upset when I heard what had happened to him.

- Will you change the record, Tewson?

- And that mate of yours, Ian.

He's probably had his cut already.

They're all the same, that lot.

Well they all piss in the same pot.

- Good evening, Mr. Tewson.

- Oh, it's God's detective.

Who killed Baxter?

Have you solved that yet, Sherlock?

- Let's have ya, Jack.

Finish up.

- I finished.

I did my last day's work today.

I'm now on the dole, on the old jam roll.

- Well roll yourself home now.

- Are you any further on, Mr. Barnaby?

- Oh David, these things take a little time, you know?

I take it you've met Mr. Tewson before.

- With a rifle, yes.

He was tryin' to take a potshot at Ian.

- A potshot?

Where was this?

- Above the water meadows.

Ian was working there.

Tewson claimed he was shooting at rabbits.

I'm not so sure.

(foreboding orchestral music)

- To complete the business-in-hand:

To our fellow mason newly-entered

as apprentice to this Lodge,

let the blessing of light be restored.

Congratulations.

(intriguing orchestral music)

- [Ben] Guess who the new initiate was.

Ian King.

- Ian King has joined the Lodge?

Ian King?

- And he seemed very keen

to ingratiate himself with his stepfather.

I think he's got ambitions.

Maybe Baxter got in his way.

- Update from the Fraud Squad.

Apparently our Mr. Baxter was a very creative accountant.

Look at page three.

- Uniform had something on him too, sir.

He reported a brick through his window

the day before he died.

My guess is Jack Tewson and rent-a-mob from the factory.

- Yeah.

Well Baxter's solicitor,

he told me that he's left a very substantial estate

with sums as yet undisclosed in offshore accounts.

- Oh. (snaps)

James Taylor was there last night too, sir.

He's a member.

Think he could've killed Baxter

so Sophie could get the money?

- Well it's possible, isn't it?

Maybe he thought if he got rid of Baxter,

they could all live happily ever after.

(gravel crunching) (birds chirping)

- Hilary?

Hilary.

(shrieks) Oh god, Ian.

Oh you made my heart skip.

- Lemme listen.

Let me hear it.

- Ian, stop it.

Don't be silly. - Silly?

I'm sorry.

Maybe it's Midsomer madness.

May I be philosophical with you for a moment?

I've come to the conclusion that life is an effort

that deserves a better cause.

- I'm sorry?

- I'm ditching my PhD.

Big left turn, bye-bye biology.

- Why?

What for?

- Money, what everyone wants.

- Are you mocking me?

- No, it's true.

Ask who wants to be a millionaire

and half the world's phoning up.

- You're pissed.

- I swear, I'm stone-cold sober.

I remember you, Sophie:

(intriguing piano music)

fresh and bright-eyed.

- I remember you too, Ian.

- Tell me.

Was it lust at first sight?

I don't suppose you're feeling frisky, are you?

- You are mocking me.

- See?

No sense of humour.

You know, there are reasons why some people are alone.

- James is right.

You're a spoiled brat!

How dare you make fun of me!

- Hey, what's going on?

- Get away from me!

I couldn't care if I never see you again!

(Ian chuckling softly)

- [David] Ian?

- I'm just saving her from herself.

You never can tell with women, can you?

And if you can, you probably shouldn't, right?

- What are you playing at?

- I've joined the masons.

- Why?

Like father, like son?

- I'm getting close to the truth.

- About what?

You mean Baxter?

You know who killed Sophie's father.

- Yes.

- Who?

- The less you know about it, the better.

(dog barking)

- I want us to try to sort out our outstanding difficulties.

- So you want to smooth things over, eh?

- There were some monies due to your members, Jack.

Peter Baxter did a complete audit shortly before he died.

- Sucked some more figures out of his thumb, did he?

- I'm prepared to accept there might be some inequity

in the way Peter dealt with the company's accounts.

- Oh, you can say that again.

- We might be able to find some funds to compensate you.

Perhaps only a percentage.

Say 10 pence in the pound.

- Don't insult us, Mr. King.

- At least have a look at the offer, Jack.

Take it away, discuss it.

- Before I do, there's something I want you to read.

(foreboding orchestral music)

- Where did you get these?

- Dropped onto my mat, sent anonymously.

- They must've been stolen from the office.

- Stolen?

Oh, well if they're stolen,

we better call the police, hadn't we?

- Let me go over these, then perhaps we can meet again.

- I'll meet you in court.

- I am trying to sort this mess out, Jack.

- So am I.

- [David] Ian and I met at university two years ago.

We're good friends.

- You're just good friends?

- I've nothing to hide.

I'd like it to be more than that, but Ian is not inclined.

- You told me that you had some information.

- I haven't, but I think Ian has.

He told me he knows who killed Peter Baxter.

- Who?

- He wouldn't gimme a name.

I tried, but he stonewalled.

Ian's head's been in bits ever since his father died.

I'm worried he's in danger.

- Could you arrange with him to meet on your own,

somewhere quiet like here?

- That's another thing.

He says he's given all this the elbow.

- David, wherever he agrees to meet you.

Let me know, I'll join you.

Maybe between the two of us,

we can persuade him to tell us exactly what he does know.

(phone ringing)

- [Ben] It matches exactly the piece

that was missing from the dagger, sir.

- Where was it found?

- At the King's Crystal office that was ransacked.

Forensic found it jammed in one of the drawer locks.

- Charles King told you that Peter Baxter

often used this dagger in his office, didn't he?

- Yeah.

- So someone gets in and uses it on the drawer.

- Sounds about right, but doesn't tell us who.

- No, but it does tell us

that whoever ransacked that office

was probably also Baxter's killer.

(foreboding orchestral music) (birds chirping)

(James wincing) (bag rustling)

(foreboding orchestral music)

(window banging)

- Sophie!

Sophie!

(birds chirping)

- I don't believe you, Ian.

How can you say such a thing?

- Everything all right?

- Yes Charles, just a tiff.

Mother and son thing.

Back in a sec.

I'll give you a hand hangin' those up.

- I thought things were fine.

He was on great form at the Lodge meeting.

What happened?

- Ian has told me something awful

about Peter Baxter's death.

(soft foreboding music)

- He's not here?

- [Tom] No, not yet.

- I arranged to pick him up.

He didn't show.

I can't find him anywhere.

I'm worried about Sophie too.

- Sophie Baxter?

- Yes.

- Are you?

(cellphone ringing)

I must get this.

Barnaby.

Oh.

Listen, you stay there

and I'll be with you soon as I can.

- Has he shown up?

- Yes.

Yes, he has.

- Thank god for that.

Where?

- You better come with me.

You first.

(intriguing orchestral music)

- [WPC] That's it.

(people chattering)

- You stay here.

- Charles King found him hanging from a beam.

(camera clicking)

He managed to get him down.

But according to him, Ian was already dead.

- [Tom] Where's Bullard?

- On his way.

There's no sign of a struggle,

so my first thought says suicide.

- Could be, but David Monroe told me

he thought Ian was in danger

from whoever killed Peter Baxter.

- Monroe set up that meeting with you.

Maybe to alibi himself for the time of Ian King's death.

- What would be his motive?

- Unrequited love?

He leans that way, doesn't he?

- Why, why would David Monroe kill Baxter?

- Pass.

The other thing is the rope.

It's a cable tow.

- It's a what?

- It's a cable tow.

It's used in masonic ceremonies to lead in initiates.

- David Monroe also told me that Sophie has disappeared.

Could you go 'round the house and check?

And since Charles King found the body,

I'll start with him, okay?

Mr. King.

- My wife is in deep shock.

She has taken a sleeping tablet.

- I'll speak to her later.

- I've told Sergeant Jones

everything I know about what happened.

(birds chirping)

I feel pretty bloody about this, Barnaby.

Hilary and I had realised

that Ian was becoming more and more unstable.

I'm not a psychiatrist,

but I do know Ian was deeply unhappy.

- I told you he was in danger.

I warned you.

There's a killer out there.

I warned you!

(intriguing orchestral music)

(police radio chattering)

(glass shattering)

- Police!

Sophie!

- He taught me drama in my sixth form.

He should've been a professional director.

- We could've done with him on this.

- "Get thee to a nunnery," next.

See what shape that's in, shall we?

Cully, how do we get our moody dane to shape up?

- He needs encouragement, Harold.

Not just endless put-downs.

- I've tried.

It's just not working.

I ask him for existential despair

and he comes on like a singer in a boy band.

And now to cap it all, Polonius has got laryngitis.

- What?

Can we get a stand-in?

- I'm afraid you're looking at him, love.

- Oh.

- Nothing, not a sign.

(foreboding orchestral music)

- Left her mobile.

(voicemail beeping)

- [Voicemail] You have one message.

- [Receptionist] Miss Baxter, Midsomer Dental here.

You missed your appointment yesterday.

Please phone to rebook.

(voicemail beeping)

- Several missed calls from James Taylor.

You don't think that sack

could've been used to carry her, sir.

- Take Higgins with you.

Bring James Taylor in.

Ask him if he'd like to help us with our inquiries,

but don't take no for an answer.

Thank you.

There we go.

Now.

James, could you tell us please about that black sack

you were seen removing from Honeytree House yesterday?

- Sophie asked me to take her father's clothes to the Oxfam.

- A witness said it looked heavy.

- Yeah, clothes and books.

It was heavy.

- Where is it now?

- I left it outside the shop in Causton last night.

They'll be there, unless someone stole 'em.

- [Tom] Did Sophie give you no indication at all

where she'd gone?

- She's got a friend up north somewhere, Fiona something.

When it comes to trouble with Ian King,

I'm not the best shoulder for her to cry on.

She knows my feelings.

- [Ben] What feelings, Mr. Taylor?

Jealousy, hostility?

She rejected you in favour of him, yes?

- You could say that, yeah.

- [Tom] Did you make contact with Ian King after she'd gone?

- No.

I thought this was about Sophie.

- James, two people have died and Sophie is missing.

(foreboding orchestral music)

- I wouldn't harm Sophie for the world.

Look, I admit I loathed Baxter and I despised Ian King.

- But you assisted at Ian's initiation, didn't you?

Led him into the temple by the noose,

the kind of noose that hung him.

- Neither his blood, nor Baxter's is on my conscience.

You may think the Craft's just a load of ridiculous rituals.

But to me, it's a state of grace

built on respect for the living souls of all true brothers.

- I think he's telling the truth.

- Whether he's guilty or not,

he certainly gave me the evil eye, sir.

I had a proper mason's warning off him.

- Ah, it's Bullard's preliminary report on Ian King.

He'd been heavily sedated, barbiturates.

- So not a suicide.

- Yeah, we need to talk to Hilary King.

(crows cawing) (sombre orchestral music)

Mrs. King, I'm sorry.

Sorry to disturb you.

Your husband told us you were up here.

- One of my husbands, Mr. Barnaby.

- Mrs. King,

did Ian ever speak to you about who killed Mr. Baxter?

- What do you mean?

- Apparently he spoke to his friend David Monroe about it.

He seemed upset.

- His father's death hit Ian hard.

They were so alike:

passionate, sensitive, sometimes a little crazy.

Both of them.

- Did you get the impression

Ian was becoming more disturbed lately?

- He was very upset about my marriage.

He did all he could to dissuade me,

so perhaps there was some method in his madness.

But recently he'd seemed to accept Charles.

He'd even begun to take an interest in the business.

I can't believe what he's done.

- Mrs. King, I have to tell you

that we suspect that Ian's death was not self-inflicted.

In fact, we believe that Ian was murdered.

- What?

- He'd been heavily sedated some time before he was found.

- No.

No.

- Now, Mrs. King. - No.

Oh no.

I'm sorry.

I can't believe.

Oh god. (sobs)

- [Ben] What if Sophie's run, sir?

Both killings could be down to her.

She could've stabbed Baxter.

- [Tom] And hoisted him onto that beam?

- Maybe her with somebody else?

- [Boy] Wait, don't need a loser.

- Oi, hang on.

Young man, come here.

Let's see.

Where'd you find this?

- In the bushes over there.

We didn't nick it.

- No, that's all right.

You're not in any trouble,

but I think we know who owns this.

So I'll hang onto it, if I may.

- That's ours.

Finders, keepers.

- Off you go, pair of you.

(people chattering)

- David Monroe says he saw Peter Baxter drive past him

the night he died, didn't he?

And he recognised him by his car

and by the cap he was wearing.

- Yeah.

- So what's it doing here?

- It could've blown off.

It's an open-top car.

- Thank you, Rupert.

- [Rupert] Thank you, sir.

- If it had blown off passing the green,

then David Monroe couldn't have seen

the driver wearing it, could he?

By the post box half a mile beyond here.

- That's true. - Yeah.

What if?

What if someone else were wearin' the cap

to make him look like Baxter?

I mean the knife.

The fragment in the drawer lock.

What if that night Baxter had disturbed that someone else

searching through the offices, eh?

- And then he turned the knife on Baxter.

- Yeah.

So what Monroe actually saw was Baxter's killer

driving his car, wearing his cap,

which he later threw into the bushes.

- And then what?

- Then he drives to the water meadows.

Baxter's dead by this time

in the backseat or the boot, whatever.

He dumps the body, dumps the knife, leaves the car.

- So how did the cap end up in the bushes?

- I'm thinking that he runs away from the car,

adrenaline pumpin'.

But as he crosses the green,

he realises he's still got the cap on,

so tosses it into the bushes.

- Works for me.

All we need is the who.

(sombre orchestral music)

- Tell me.

Talk to me, what is it?

- Leave me alone.

- We both lost someone we loved.

- How can you say that?

How can you compare?

He was my only son.

Ever since you,

I think you better go.

- I want you to know, Hilary.

- Just go now, please!

- Hilary?

(intense orchestral music)

Hilary.

What's happening?

- She wants me to leave.

I guess I should,

but I'll be back for the funeral.

- No, stay as long as you wish.

You've been a rock to Ian.

I'm so grateful.

(birds chirping)

- Tom, I've been waiting in the car for 10 minutes.

- I'm sorry.

- We can't be late for Cully's opening night.

- No no, of course we can't.

I was just turning something over in my mind.

- Come on.

Come on.

- I'm coming, coming.

(bell dinging) (people chattering)

- [Woman] Yeah, absolutely.

Look, but you know we should sit down there.

- It's a new job, eh?

- Well it is a bit of cash in hand.

Ian King organised it for me before he--

- Well that's very decent of him.

- I think I got him wrong.

- [Polonius] He is far gone.

Far gone.

Truly in my youth,

I suffered much extremity for love very much like this.

What do you read, my lord?

- Words.

Words,

words.

- What is the matter, my lord?

- Between who?

- [Polonius] I mean the matter that you read.

- [Hamlet] Slanders, sir.

- Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.

Method in it, method in it.

- He was very upset by my marriage.

So perhaps there was some method in his madness.

Method in his madness, madness.

- Murder, though it have no tongue

will speak with most miraculous organ.

I'll have these players

play something like the murder of my father

before mine uncle.

Father before mine uncle.

The play's the thing

wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

The conscience of the king.

Of the king, the king, the king.

I say we will have no more marriage.

Those that are married already, all but one shall live!

The rest shall keep as they are.

To a nunnery, go! - Tom.

Cully's on.

- O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown.

The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's eye, tongue, sword.

The expectancy and rose of the fair state.

- Tom. - Excuse me.

- Glass of fashion and the mould.

(people muttering) (foreboding orchestral music)

- [Tom] Thank you.

- Oh woe is me, t'have seen what I have seen.

(intriguing jazz music)

- Where are we goin'?

- Belt up and I'll tell you.

Ian King chose "Hamlet" as the opening production,

especially for his mother to see.

- [Ben] His mother?

- Yeah, rub her nose in the fact

that she'd married her husband's brother.

- I don't follow, sir.

Hamlet's father was murdered.

- And Alan King died on a business trip to China

with his brother, Charles.

- Yes, but that was an accident.

- Yes according to the paperwork, it was.

But what if Charles killed Alan King,

Ian King found out about it and Charles had to shut him up?

- Murdered him?

- Yeah.

If I'm right, then Hilary King could be in some danger here.

(door knocking) Oh, come on.

Come on.

David, is Mrs. King in?

- No.

She left about 10 minutes ago.

She's taking Charles to hospital.

- [Tom] What happened?

- He started feeling ill, groggy.

I helped her put him in the car.

Is something wrong?

- Which hospital?

- I don't know

- You stay here.

If they come back, you call me, yes?

- Sure.

(intriguing jazz music)

- Thank you.

There's no record of Charles King

being brought into any of the A&Es.

But they got a trace on his mobile close to Midsomer Magna.

- That's the factory, King's Crystal.

(Hilary wincing)

Mrs. King.

(intense orchestral music)

Mrs. King, drop the dagger.

No, no.

Mrs. King, please.

Put the knife down.

Put the knife down.

(dagger clanging)

(Charles grunting)

(eerie foreboding music)

- So Charles began to feel ill.

- I'd ground some sleeping tablets into his food.

I persuaded him to go to the hospital.

- [Ben] Instead you took him to the factory.

- Yes.

- You also took this dagger with you.

Was it your intention to kill Charles?

- Yes.

- Why?

- He killed my son.

- It wasn't you?

You didn't sedate Ian in exactly the same way

before you killed him?

- I loved my son.

- Charles is your husband.

- Yes.

I wish to god.

My marriage to him made Ian so angry, so hostile.

It poisoned everything.

- Mrs. King, your first husband, Alan.

He died during a visit to China, didn't he?

And his death was accidental, car crash, yeah?

- So Charles claimed.

But I'm convinced now Charles killed Alan,

that he lied, deceived me all to get control of the company.

And when Ian found out.

- How did Ian find out?

(soft foreboding music)

- [Hilary] He was clearing out his father's study.

(latches clanking)

He told me he'd found a sketchbook amongst Alan's things.

- [Tom] A sketchbook?

- Yes, Alan had one with him always.

He had one with him in China.

Ian came to me

and he said he had something awful to tell me.

If only I believed him, he would still be alive. (sobs)

- Shall we take a break?

(phone ringing)

(siren wailing)

- Sophie Baxter, sir.

Missing Persons have tracked down a relative

who suggested a possible location.

They're following up.

- Good.

- So you believe Mrs. King?

Think Charles killed his brother and Ian

to get control of the company?

- Well something made her believe it enough

to want to kill her own husband.

- What if she killed her first husband as well?

She marries Charles, kills her son.

She gets control of the company, doesn't she?

- Yeah.

But how could she kill Alan King

when he was in China, she was here?

And why would she wanna kill Peter Baxter?

- He was a fly in the ointment or he knew too much.

She was the one who discovered the body.

(soft foreboding music) (siren wailing)

- If Alan King had a sketchbook in China:

pandas, Great Wall and stuff.

That would've been returned to this country

with the rest of his belongings, wouldn't it?

Hello, Ian.

- Looking for me?

- No, just out for you know, a walk.

(soft foreboding music)

Ah.

- Found it.

- "Charles and Peter Baxter

"are stripping the company's assets,

"setting up accounts in the Caymans

"with some Chinese consortium.

"Whole thing stinks."

- My brother was delightful,

but he was completely outta touch with reality.

It was the market that broke King's Crystal,

not any malfeasance on my part.

- [Tom] Did you kill him?

- I loved my brother.

You need to know Hilary.

She's hard as nails, gets what she wants.

The rest is window dressing.

She's as unstable as Ian was.

- Ian found that sketchbook later

and that confirmed his suspicions.

You and Baxter had defrauded the company.

Ian had gone to the offices of King's Crystal

searching for proof:

The evidence that Peter Baxter himself had come to destroy.

(intense orchestral music) (dagger clinking)

- What are you doing here?

Ian, what're you doing here?

Just tell me.

- [Ian] Peter,

let go!

- [Peter] Tell me what you are doing.

- Get off, Peter. - What're you doing here?

- [Ian] Peter, stop it.

- [Peter] What are you looking for?

- [Ian] Peter. (grunts)

(glass shattering)

(Peter thudding and wincing)

- [Tom] And during a struggle,

Peter Baxter was accidentally stabbed.

Then Ian panicked.

He bundled the body into the boot of the car.

(car horn honking)

He put on Baxter's cap and drove down to the water meadow.

- If all that's true,

then Baxter's death has nothing to do with me.

- Where were you when Ian died?

- I was at a masonic charity do, then came home.

- And your wife?

- Hilary was in bed pretending sleep.

I noticed the light was on in her barn

and found Ian there already dead.

- Hilary has told us of a conversation

you and she had in the barn earlier that day.

- Back in a sec.

I'll give you a hand hangin' those up.

- Ian has told me something awful

about Peter Baxter's death.

- Ian had indeed told her something awful.

He told her that he had killed Peter Baxter.

And more than that,

Hilary said Ian had told her that he believed

that you had killed his father, Alan.

And that was her fatal mistake, wasn't it?

Because once you heard that,

you knew that Ian had to be silenced

because he was right, wasn't he?

You did kill Alan King.

- It was an accident, a car crash.

Look, I'm the one who's the victim here.

It's me she tried to kill.

- Only after I told her that Ian's death was not a suicide

and then she knew that everything

that Ian had told her was true

and that you had indeed silenced him.

- Hilary?

- [Tom] And then of course, she wanted revenge.

- So that's the line she's been spinning you.

Is that all or have you got anything more vague?

- That is what happened, Mr. King.

- You haven't a shred of evidence

for any of your fanciful allegations.

I want my lawyer.

(dog barking)

- Hilary?

- Sophie.

- I was looking for Hilary.

- The police are holding her and Charles.

- Why?

- I don't know.

What happened to you?

Where've you been?

- I couldn't take it anymore.

I had to go and see a friend to the north.

Poor Ian.

- It's just so.

I still can't believe it.

- The last time I saw him, I hated him.

I can't bear that.

- Sophie, all that crazy behaviour, the wild things he said.

He was trying to protect you.

- Protect me?

- From the whole mess in his head.

He couldn't bear it.

If it's any comfort, I know he loved you, really loved you.

(soft orchestral music) (birds chirping)

- You loved him too, didn't you?

- How are bookings for the play now?

- Fine, thanks.

- Cully, I apologise for leaving like that.

It was a work matter.

It was something very important.

- 'Course, more important than my work I'm sure.

Do you know you completely ruined

my entire performance, dad?

- I'm sorry.

Can I give you a lift?

- No thanks.

I'll walk, do a line-run.

Don't wanna dry again.

Thanks, mom.

- Leave it, Tom.

She's very stressed.

- Well she's not alone in that.

Do you want a drink?

- No thanks.

What is happening?

Can you tell me?

- Yes.

I have a wife and a husband

each accusing the other of murder.

Very little evidence beside my own gut feelings.

- Any witnesses?

- Nope, only victims.

- [Joyce] No help there then.

- Unless.

- [Joyce] What?

- Unless there's a silent witness

that could tell us exactly what happened.

(foreboding orchestral music) (people chattering)

- That's good news.

Thank you, bye.

Sophie Baxter's turned up in the village, sir.

- Has she?

Oh thank god for that.

You can give her a good telling-off though

for leaving the scene of a police investigation

without informing us.

- [Ben] Big call, sir.

Digging him up.

- But if I'm right, I'm sure his widow will forgive us.

- The British Consulate papers

that were flown back with Alan King's body

say that he died as a result of a car crash

and subsequent burnout.

- Yes, but were they right?

- Well I thought so,

until I examined the contents of his stomach

and found significant quantities of finely-ground glass.

- Glass?

- Yeah, it's a new one on me too.

So I dug out the books and there it was:

a rare form of poisoning particular to China.

- So Alan King was poisoned by Charles

and that caused him to crash.

You sure?

- Mm-hmm, would've been dead within 20 minutes.

- And then I'll take you to a custody suite

where you'll be formally charged

with the murders of Ian King and Alan King.

- Nonsense!

That is not true.

- Oh Mr. King, truth is what a jury will believe

and I'm sure they'll be convinced

that you are as guilty as we know you are.

You're gonna have to admit it, Mr. King.

To me, to the court and to yourself.

(intriguing orchestral music)

(smooth jazz music)

- Oh don't cut your finger again, sir.

I bought something for you.

It's the one I got when I joined the Lodge.

(sirens wailing)

- Oh, thank you.

- No use to me now.

The brotherhood had me down as a traitor.

(dagger sheathing)

- They slice out traitors' tongues, don't they?

And bury them at low tide, I believe.

- I appreciated your trust over the masons thing.

- Well trust, Jones is something hard to win,

easy to lose and never to be taken lightly.

- William Shakespeare, sir?

- No, Thomas Barnaby.

- [Ben] Ah.

(intriguing orchestral music)