Original subtitles

It's Silverstone Saturday, and all the best drivers are here.

Tony Brooks in the Ferrari. Peter Fossett in his Lotus.

And there's Stirling Moss.

They get away cleanly and Brooks sets the early pace.

But soon it's number 47, Duncan Palmer,

with Peter Fossett challenging strongly.

Final lap. Fossett makes a last effort going into Luffield.

But Palmer goes on to win in the Cooper.

Bad luck, Peter Fossett.

Bravo, Duncan Palmer!

(whistles)

It's fantastic.

- What is it? - I don't know.

Ugh! That's horrible!

That's Haskins, the electrician.

Son's a bit of a tearaway. Overcharges on call-outs.

Oh, and that's a nice caff.

- Hello, Mr Douglas. - Good day to you, Mr Jones.

Benefit fraud.

- Hello, Ben. - Oh, hello, Peggy.

I hear you're running the show now.

- Well, actually... - I did like that Mr Barnaby.

But, well, he wasn't really one of us, was he?

20 years. You barely get acquainted.

This is the new DCI Barnaby, cousin of the other DCI Barnaby.

Oh.

Well... I must be off.

Oh, look at that. A 1929 Bentley. Four and a half litre.

Identical to the one raced by Tim Birkin at Le Mans.

Hi, Jonesy. Won't be a sec.

Jamie Cameron. Local businessman, councillor.

A bit useless, but OK.

Beautiful lines.

Darnley Park is a girls' boarding school

run by a terrifying woman called Harriet Wingate.

- Private school? - Oh, yeah. No peasants here.

- What's going on? - Concours D'Elegance.

It's a fancy car show.

Classic cars from all over the country.

Look at that. 1600 MGA, 1960.

Are you interested in cars, sir?

Only if it's got a flashing light and gets me home quickly.

I got hooked four years ago. They found one in a barn here.

A Cooper T45 in a terrible mess. I was running the case.

Then I got involved in the restoration of the car

and suddenly discovered this whole world of anoraks to join.

- The case? - Oh, suicide.

Remains of this racing driver, Duncan Palmer.

Been there since the '60s.

The DCI was on holiday, so I was running things.

- Tom took a holiday? - Joyce threatened him.

- Jones, dear boy! - Mrs Wingate.

- And who's this? - DCI Barnaby.

Why didn't they give the job to this chap?

How can we help you, Mrs Wingate?

As you can see, we've got a car charity thing this weekend,

our school being the charity.

Got Peter Fossett to come and judge.

- Know him, do you? - No.

He was a famous racing driver.

And you would like us to keep an eye on things?

Yes, with a particular eye

on the yobs from the Moor Park estate.

I know a girls' school

is an irresistible magnet to young men, eh, Jones?

(laughs)

Anyway, other day, one of the fellows from the estate

was found in the chapel cloisters.

A Thomas Brightwell, by all accounts.

Wouldn't say what he was doing there,

but I suspect he was trying to sell illegal substances.

What makes you think that?

Sort of thing those types do, isn't it?

I know his family.

- We'll look into it. - Good boy.

All right, chocks away!

Governors' meeting. Nice to meet you, Tom.

- See what I mean? - Yes.

The suicide, Jones. Duncan Palmer. Why here?

Nobody knows.

How did he do it?

Shot to the head.

The revolver was lying next to the car.

And the body wasn't found till 40 years later.

Yeah.

Hm.

- Isn't she beautiful? - Perfect.

Just like you, dear girl.

All you have to do is look at the figures in front of you.

We are haemorrhaging cash and losing clients.

Pupils. Students. They're not clients.

This is a place of learning, not a dentist's.

Whatever. They just aren't coming to Darnley any more.

Then we have to modernise, upgrade.

Harriet, Harriet. The banks, they don't want to know.

- So what do we do? - It's on the table.

- It has been for a year. - No.

The education department would take over

our debts, our mortgages...

And turn it into a state school.

It would still be Darnley Park.

No! It would not.

Jessica, what do you think?

I'm afraid I have to agree with Jamie.

It's the figures, Mother.

(sighs) Look at the girls that have come out of Darnley.

Cabinet ministers, MPs, academics, scientists.

This weekend Kate Cameron,

European Businesswoman of the Year, is coming down...

What? What? You've invited my ex-wife?

Of ten years, Jamie.

Surely you're not still squabbling.

Oh, God.

The point I am making is...

that we have never given in.

So are you really going to spend the rest of your lives

hiding your heads in shame

because you saw fit to vote it out of existence?

Well, are you?

Right, let's have a vote.

Those who want to fight on, raise your hands.

Jolly good.

(beeps horn)

Place isn't too bad. Only a handful of idiots.

Hello, Freddy. How's it going?

If you ain't got the footage, mate, it weren't me.

Card shopper. Does drama classes with Jessica Wingate.

- Really? - Yeah.

Council funds a lot of arts programmes in poorer areas.

- Is that good? - Oh, yeah, yeah.

There's some really fine actors and artists in Causton nick.

Liberal thinker, are you, Jones?

Definitely, sir. Counsellors and cuddles all round, I say.

And Thomas Brightwell?

Yeah, he's in with Jessica's lot too.

Comes from a duff family, though.

You're the local. You take it.

(Jones) Thomas, it's not a hard question.

What were you doing up at Darnley Park?

- I was lost, weren't I? - Don't wind me up.

Waste of time. Peddling a little dope, were you, Thomas?

(Thomas) You kidding? Selling drugs to school kids?

Do I look totally stupid?

I was just passing through. I didn't do nothing.

And that's it? All you have to say?

Yeah. Are you done?

Stay away from that school or you're in big trouble.

(boy on TV) This is Manchester hospital.

It isn't my hospital.

- What was the play? - What?

Guys And Dolls. I was Sky Masterson.

- Directed by Jessica Wingate. - Yeah.

Maybe you were going to see her.

No. I wasn't going to see anyone.

Bye, Thomas.

- 3:24. - Sir?

Should we ever have to find out who he called

the moment we left.

Oh, yeah, right.

Welcome to Darnley!

Harriet Wingate, my father Peter Fossett.

- Mr Fossett! - Peter, please. My pleasure.

Katie was telling me what an attractive woman you are

and, by golly, she was right.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

I know all about you racing car chappies.

Come along. Let me show you round.

Excellent. I can't wait to see Duncan's old Cooper.

(Harriet) Ah, well, there's this old barn, you see...

Kate! What are you doing here? This is my weekend!

I'm not here for her! I'm here to beat you to best in show.

- Oh, you're such a number! - Aren't I, darling?

Just you stay out of my way!

- And don't touch my car! - Nor you mine!

Hi, Mummy.

Very nice presents from Europe.

How did you do with the last lot?

- That's it? - Market prices.

Got the key, then?

I think I should deal directly with your friend.

Why?

I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing, as your mother.

You sure you don't want a hand?

No. There's just a couple more bits to unpack and it'll be set.

Well, I'm gonna go back to school, help with the cars.

- See you later, then. - OK.

Hello. You haven't unpacked much.

The thing is, I totally see Jones's point of view.

Ambitious lad, talented,

now blocked by some old bloke being dumped in his parish.

I'd be hacked off too.

So how do I handle it?

Slap him down? Try and get him on side?

Play it by ear? Yeah, you're probably right.

(doorbell rings)

The Robinsons have moved!

(doorbell rings)

- Yes? - Mr Barnaby?

I'm June Carter, three doors down.

And I've brought you a welcome to Causton cake.

- It's lemon drizzle. - Thank you. Most kind.

I could murder a cup of tea.

Or shouldn't one say that to a policeman?

Oh... Oh, no.

Sorry. It's um... my medication time.

- Oh. - Sorry.

Thank you so much.

Bye. Bye-bye.

So did you know Duncan Palmer well?

Yes. I knew Duncan.

He was my best friend.

Must have been a terrible blow to hear of his death.

It was bad enough when they found his car in Coniston Water.

But when they discovered him here...

all those years later, frankly I was confused.

- Whole thing made no sense. - Mr Fossett.

Local copper. Jones.

- It's a great privilege. - Mr Jones.

I also helped with the restoration.

- Do tell. - (phone rings)

Well, the chassis was solid enough.

But when we hoisted the engine out,

we found it was completely seized.

So we had to start from the bottom up,

replacing with parts from contemporary salvage jobs.

- Who owns it now? - Well, a tricky one.

When Mr Palmer died, he didn't leave a will,

so we're just sort of looking after it.

I mean, a pristine Cooper's worth about 100,000.

Yes, thank you, Jones. I must drag you away.

The other judge is here.

Hm?

Oh, uh... Yes.

Who is it? I know most of them.

- (rap music on car stereo) - (girls scream)

Yo, yo!

- Wassup, my bitches? - I don't know that one.

Are you ready for the Doggy Dog man

giving you some broom-broom cha!

Yo, Jessie! My main ho! How you shaking, baby?

I'd like you to meet your co-judge.

Mother, Mr Fossett, this is Dave Dogboy Day.

You can call me Doggy. How you been?

You're gonna have to give me the knowledge on this car stuff.

I'm like well keen, innit?

Oh! You gotta give me the dope on this baby.

What are you playing at?

You suggested we get a local celebrity.

Well, I meant a novelist

or a weather forecaster or someone.

Where in God's name did you find this creature?

He's doing voluntary work at Moor Park with me.

He's also a well known DJ.

Jessica, I don't pretend to understand your perverse needs.

But I do not want our girls contaminated

by the dross that crawls out of that estate.

Understand?

(girls scream)

Show us again.

Oh, my God. Isn't she a shocker?

I bet they didn't mean us to film them doing that.

A video diary is meant to be a true account of events

as they are presented to you.

Oi! Charlie's Angels! In here now!

Quick!

Does everyone dress like you in your village?

- We dress all right. - Of course you do.

You're gorgeous. We're very privileged to have you here.

I've got a new mission for Charlie's Angels.

You're to take this to my little povvo friend on the estate.

- Ain't he got a screwdriver? - It's not a screwdriver.

- It's a sword drawn from stone. - Excalibur like!

Right, and he's the young King Arthur,

and he must perform great deeds to win the fair Guinevere.

Fantastic!

- Do you accept your mission? - Oh, yes, Charlie.

We'll be brilliant.

Well, bye-bye, then.

Let's go!

Come on, girls! In we go!

The thing about classic cars

is they're as much a work of art as pictures in a gallery.

Yeah, I got your vibe, man. It's like my mojo.

So preservation and provenance are equally important.

Yeah, whatever. You give it to me, man, like the knowledge.

Know what I'm saying? Ice?

See, if I was handling the questioning,

I'd have followed up stronger on the Jessica Wingate line.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah, but he says...

"We're not here to police the morals of the middle classes."

"Let them eat their skis," he says. He's weird.

Oh, no wonder. Look. Our new DCI has a degree in psychology.

Well, pardon me for being such a thick prat.

His team also had the most successful

serious crime clear-up rate in the southern counties.

For ten years in a row.

Yeah, well, he was in Brighton, wasn't he?

Fish in a barrel.

Why would a man stage his own death in the Lake District

and actually do the deed down here, hmm?

(doorbell rings)

Mr Barnaby, hello, and welcome to the neighbourhood.

- Dandelion wine? - Thank you.

So you have to make sure their engines fire at first crack.

- Right. - So you advance the ignition.

Or spark, as we call it.

You pump the accelerator to prime the engine.

You make sure that the handbrake is on

and the car isn't in gear, of course.

And then you cup the crank in your hand,

but don't grip it with your thumb,

because when the beast starts,

it could kick with a force that could break your bones.

So...

One firm crank.

(engine starts)

Hey presto. We have liftoff.

That is cool, man!

Respect.

Yes, and respect to you too.

Thanks. Cheers.

I thought if I was gonna get to know the place,

I ought to start in the pub.

Nice to meet you.

So, bit of a stitch-up, was it?

What?

You getting the job here.

Being a member of the Barnaby dynasty like.

No, no. I got the job through the normal channels.

And by sleeping with the commissioner.

That's a joke, ain't it?

Absolutely not.

(laughs)

That's a good 'un!

That's a good 'un!

(engine fails to start)

You... want a hand?

- Who are you? - Dave Day. Dogboy Doggy.

The other judge with your old man.

Dear God.

Do you know anything about cars?

Not much. Just doing my bit for the school charity.

- How much do you want? - I'm sorry?

To give me best in show.

How much?

I can't take bungs. It's for charity.

The brute won't start anyway.

The thing is to get the spark just right.

And then you sort of... tickle her into life.

Know what I mean?

Look, I have to attend a game of lacrosse.

Why don't you just get her started?

- Me? - But guard her with your life.

These people are very competitive.

How long are you gonna be?

Yo, Jaz. Yo, Jaz, is that you?

Oh, my days, it is you.

What are you doing all dressed up like a St Trinian girl?

Where's the party at?

Oh, my days. You're still in school, innit?

You're a bad girl.

It's all right, it's all right.

Your secret's safe with me.

I won't say a word to no one about nothing.

She said she was 25, Your Honour.

Oh, well played, Charlie!

- God, this takes me back. - Oh, I bet it does.

Darnley did so much for me.

Well, maybe you could do something for Darnley.

I'd love to, but with my company on the verge of collapse,

I can't spare a penny.

I was actually wondering if you'd like to be

on the board of governors.

Me? Why me?

I need some support.

Strong girls together.

What about Jamie? Isn't he chairman?

Well, for the moment.

Whe-hey! I'm your girl.

You always were.

- What? - This is your sword.

Charlie says you've got to go and slay a dragon for her.

- Or you won't be getting any. - She never said that.

That's what she meant, though, wasn't it?

(dials number)

(Charlie) Of course I can't do it. I haven't got the key.

She's my mother.

I do not steal off my mother.

Well, only big stuff.

Just do it, Thomas, or no sweeties.

(rap music on headphones)

- Did you get it going? - No. I think it's, um...

Plugs. The gaps have to be 0.019.

- Right. - I have to go out for dinner.

I'll be back about 11ish.

If you've got her going,

who knows what'll be in store for you.

- Phones are quiet. - After five, sir.

Villains are having their tea now, get back to work later.

Right.

- Evening. - What are you doing?

Trying to start your wife's car.

Ex-wife.

- Whatever. - In the middle of the night?

She promised to give you one, then, has she?

What?

No. Honest.

I'm surprised. That's her usual way of getting what she wants.

No, really.

Just remember, she likes to kill and eat her mates

when she's finished with them.

I'll bear that in mind.

Right. Pump accelerator.

Advance ignition.

Check not in gear.

Cradle in the palm of hand.

Say a little prayer.

(engine starts)

Oh! You beauty!

I adore you and I am gonna shag your mistress!

Oh, hello!

I'm just observing.

Looks like an accident.

Started the car in gear and got shafted by the crank handle.

Right, right. So, let's search for fingerprints, then.

Why?

Because that's what I want.

- All going well, is it? - Fine.

Good. Fingerprints for some reason.

Thanks, Dan.

As I said, Peter, tragic accident.

It was me who showed him how to use that damn crank.

- If I hadn't... - You cannot blame yourself.

- Can I get to my car, please? - Not yet, Mrs Cameron, no.

- But I have to check it. - Well, I'm sorry.

Where's the crank handle?

It's... You can have it back later.

Well, don't touch anything you don't need to.

- (Jamie) So stupid. - I beg your pardon?

You left a novice in charge of a five-litre tank?

He knew what he was doing. He was a judge.

He was a local DJ!

- Well, I didn't know that. - Of course you didn't.

Stop it, please. A man has died here.

(Jamie) Sorry, Jessie. You're right, of course.

Not my fault. Will you stop that, please?

Yes, please, girls. Come on.

So who's going to do the judging now? Hmm?

You're still going ahead with the event?

Well, I'm sure that's what Mr Day would have wanted.

Come along, Peter.

It's the boarding school thing.

Leaves them unacquainted with normal human emotions.

Oh. Psychology studies, is that, sir?

Common sense, Jones.

Look forward to reading your report.

(teacher shouting)

- Hello, girls. - Hello.

You take a lot of photos.

- Oh, videos. - We have to make a video diary.

So you see everything that goes on, eh?

Oh, yeah.

Not that anything

really happens round here.

Well... keep it up.

- Oh, Jamie. - Hi, Jess.

- Are you OK? - Yes. I'm just a bit...

I know. It's awful, really.

He was doing really well in London.

But he always came back to help out and...

- And... - And he was one of you.

Halfway decent people.

- OK? - Oh, yes.

Ooh, you naughty girl.

Yes.

- Oh, wait, wait. - What?

I meant to tell you. My mother was talking to Kate.

She wants Kate to help her save the school

and oust you from the board.

What? Jess...

I'm sorry. I was going to tell you.

But once you started... I'm sorry.

It... It's fine. It's OK.

Women like them always find each other.

It's not your fault.

(whistles)

- Did you get it? - Certainly did.

Good boy.

So, are you gonna keep your end of the bargain?

- That's enough for now. - Oh, come on.

Uh-uh-uh. Peasants don't get their princesses

until they've finished their daring deeds.

See you Friday night.

Pick me up at the usual place around ten?

So you want to sign off on this, do you? Accident?

The final's down to the coroner, but...

they usually go along with what we tell them.

- Why the fingerprinting? - Just being thorough, sir.

We found plenty of Doggy's.

His fingers were oily from fiddling with the engine.

What about the prints on the gear lever?

There weren't any.

Sir?

Oh! How did he put the car in gear without leaving any prints?

And, small point,

you can't crank-start a car if it's in gear.

Yes, I know that.

So I guess he must have got the car started,

then put it in gear, set the throttle on slow,

wiped the prints off the gear lever,

then ran back round to the front of the vehicle,

dropped to his knees and let the crank handle

run through his chest.

So it was either a really complex suicide or...

Someone else put the car in gear.

Now, there's a thought.

It wasn't me.

The whole lot's gone and nobody else knew.

Maybe it was that dead Doggy bloke.

He was too stupid. Do something.

Mrs Cameron!

What are you doing? That could have been involved in a crime.

You said it was cleared.

Would you stop that?

The presentation is this afternoon.

Let go!

What is going on here? Jones?

The cause of Mr Day's death has not been fully verified as yet.

Has he cocked it up?

Mrs Wingate, this is now a criminal investigation.

In due course, we would like to talk to you.

Meanwhile, thank you.

Whole family are bolshies.

Jones, would you like to have a chat with Mr Fossett?

- Yes, sir. - I have to do the judging.

That's OK. We can talk as you go round.

Charlotte, I need to talk to your mother.

See you, Mummy.

- Charming girl. - She's got balls.

Unlike her father.

What caused the break-up of your marriage?

What's that got to do with anything?

I like to look at the big picture.

When we first met, we were both mad about cars,

and Jamie was thrilled

that the great Peter Fossett was my father.

It looked perfect, but Jamie was never a real player.

He was too dumb.

He told me about deals he was involved with

and then got miffed when I got in ahead of him.

- How very careless of him. - Oh, yes, I know. I'm a bitch.

- And he was rubbish in bed. - Really?

Couldn't get it up. Said I emasculated him.

So I had to play away.

Well... thank you.

- You wanted the big picture. - Not that big.

Oh, I do love the middle classes.

So quaintly moralistic.

What is your business?

I'm the only woman in the country

running a major trucking company.

Contrary to my kind, I believe in hard work.

Doing all right, is it, this company?

Today? You're kidding.

Fuel prices, EU regulations, East European cowboys.

I'm hanging on by my teeth.

And this is an expensive hobby.

Life's expensive, Mr Barnaby.

We all have to pay for it somehow, don't we?

(Jones) So you didn't know Mr Day before, then?

Did you know that there were only six

original Bugatti Royales ever made?

I have read that, sir.

However, by collecting spare parts from all over the world,

they were able to build up a whole new one.

Of course, we weren't allowed to accept it

as a genuine Royale.

Do you think that's some kind of metaphor for modern life?

Mr Day, sir?

He told me he came from the estate place originally.

Then when he'd made a few bob, he went back to help them out.

I think he was a thoroughly decent fellow.

That mudguard has more filler than a pork pie.

Honestly, I think they must think I'm senile sometimes.

Do you have any idea why Duncan Palmer ended his life here?

No, I don't.

But I do think it's an amazing coincidence

that Duncan and his car should end up in a barn

in my daughter's old school.

In fact, it would have been there

when your daughter Kate was at the school.

Yes, I suppose you're right. I never thought of that.

That's rather spooky.

- I'm sorry, sir. I... - No, it's OK.

It's just me being a bit senior.

(brass band plays "English Country Garden")

Kate is a ball-busting bitch.

All she ever does is stab people in the back.

- And her bad points? - Ruthless corporate raider.

Look at the way she's mopping up her opposition

during the recession.

And where's she getting the money for that?

Probably sleeping with a venture capitalist from Inter Prague.

And how does she get on with her father?

Those two, thick as thieves with their little secrets.

She was always saying I was nothing compared to Daddy.

That's how she judges everyone, by their tangible successes.

Never mind their character or their common decency.

And do you know a lot about common decency?

I'm learning. Taking lessons, actually.

Gentlemen, here's a thing of great beauty.

A real showstopper.

And the car ain't half bad either.

So, let's give her the once-over.

Daddy gonna give you first prize, is he?

- If I ask him to. - Obvious bias.

I'll object, make a fuss.

- Are you sure? - Yeah.

Well, gentlemen, here's a bit of a turn-up.

Kate Cameron has shown her true and decent colours

by insisting that she rule herself out

from winning best of show

because the main judge, me,

also happens to be her father.

I think such a noble sacrifice deserves a round of applause.

(applause)

What are you up to?

Mr Barnaby.

I don't believe it!

What's your problem?

I told you I didn't wanna see you around here.

I'm not doing anything wrong.

I'm a member of the public

looking at old cars.

I love old cars. See that MGA? It's up for sale.

- I might just get in there. - I'm watching you.

All afternoon. Wherever you are.

Girls.

This one was owned by the Sultan of Brunei.

Richest man in the world, he is.

So, what do you do with your video diary?

Upload most of it onto the English studies computer

for assessment.

- But not all of 'em. - Nerys!

What?

So some bits are not suitable for general viewing, eh?

No, it's just...

She's a bit simple in the head.

I am not!

You're such an idiot! Come on.

Just blabbing your mouth all the time!

(Peter) Well, it was a close one today.

We had a splendid array of fine classics

and judging best of show was a very hard task indeed.

But we finally decided on one

that was not only excellent in every way

but seemed to have captured the heart

of the local community here,

a car that I knew when I was a young man.

a car that belonged to the best pal a chap could ever have.

And even though it came here in a circuitous

and seemingly tragic route,

we have no hesitation in awarding best of show...

...to the Cooper T45!

Yes!

And now I'd like to present the cup

to the Causton Restoration Group.

Yay!

- You should join them. - Congratulations.

There you are. You're taking it? Well done.

Thank you, sir. Well done.

This Duncan Palmer thing, I hate coincidences.

- So did your predecessor. - Right.

He taught me, John, if it smells...

It's probably off. Yeah.

The estate, the school, what's the relationship?

Wary. Harriet hates the estate kids

while Jessica wants to encompass them, share the privileges.

She's not just trying to stick it to her mother?

There could be a bit of that.

And there have been rumours of more personal liaisons

across the social divide.

- Jessica? - Yeah.

Aye, aye.

(Jones) Look at that! Little toerag!

- Where's he getting the money? - Better ask him.

I will. You coming?

I'm gonna go through this again.

- There's nothing in there. - I expect you're right.

See you later.

- Mother? - You stupid, stupid girl!

I don't think you should talk to me like that.

Watch this.

Nellie Wilson was ploughing through

her class's video diaries when she came across this.

Thought I should see it.

Now I see why my own daughter was betraying me.

It wasn't enough that you should carry on

with those ghastly creatures from the estate.

- That's not true. - But you also had to conjoin

with a hostile member of my own board.

This has nothing to do with you.

I love Jamie. He loves me.

- See? - Don't be ridiculous.

What would a man like him see in a woman like you?

In me?

In me, he sees someone who doesn't abuse and humiliate him.

The same thing as I see in him.

- I don't know what you mean. - No, you don't.

That's your problem.

You've never seen what you really are.

Well, you'll have to go.

I can't have you here after this.

The girls, the school.

Imagine the damage if this got into the gutter press.

- He's not here. - How are you, Gran?

- He's not here. - Have you see him today?

He's not here.

- He's not there. - Oh, Nick the Money.

- You after him as well? - No.

Don't tell me he doesn't owe you.

Not a penny. Paid it all off.

Bought himself a fancy motor an' all.

So?

So he must be engaged

in suitable employment.

Or is he dealing?

Or did his auntie leave him

a gold mine in South Africa?

See, that's the problem with you people round here.

You think you're so smart.

We heard you got passed over for the top job.

- It's because I was too young! - Course you were. We knew that.

Only you that didn't.

Hmm. Usually photographed with a hat on.

Why do you suppose that was, Sykes?

Ah. That's why.

Look at that. See?

He was only 30, but half his hair was gone

and the rest was ginger.

Maybe it was suicide after all.

My wicked old uncle used to say all sex mad and bad-tempered.

Ah, now, see, she...

she would call herself auburn.

But we know, don't we?

- Ah, Jones. Can I help? - Sorry.

I thought you were talking to someone.

I was talking to this dog. He's a Sprechhund.

That's German for a dog you talk to.

Oh.

I discuss cases with him.

Sort of thinking out loud.

Yes. Yes.

You could always do that with a person if you liked.

Yeah, I suppose I could.

So what did you learn at the estate?

Thomas has got a lot of money and seems to have done a runner.

So what do we make of that?

(heavy breathing on video)

- I'm so sorry, Jess. - It doesn't worry me.

That's the way I like it. ♪ Uh-huh, uh-huh

Whatever happened to Miss Shrinking Violet of yesteryear?

I dumped her, for you.

(Jamie) That must have been about two weeks ago.

See? Golf club tie. Midsomer Parva Cup day.

Who took this?

Some little horror from upper fifth.

They're doing a video diary project.

So, what do you think of my plan?

- Suppose she calls your bluff? - She won't. I know her.

We could do all the things we've talked about.

- You've talked about. - Please.

(sighs)

(doorbell rings)

(Barnaby) The Robinsons have moved!

(doorbell rings repeatedly)

- Yes? - Henry Parsons, rugby club.

- How can I help? - Just saying hi.

And welcome to the neighbourhood.

I heard the old duck brigade had been around.

Thought I should present a more normal side.

Oh, right. Well, come in.

Girls, inside.

Prep time.

What's gotten into her?

Probably some bit of rough off the estate.

(laughter)

I have nothing more to say to you.

Well, I have plenty to say to you.

I don't think that's wise.

First, I'd like to thank you for this DVD,

which I have decided I am going to release to the local press.

Or maybe the national dailies.

- You're not serious? - I am.

That would destroy you.

So? Who am I?

Nobody at all.

But you, Mummy dearest,

are a well-known educationalist.

Chairman of the Headmasters' Conference.

Won't look too good in your world

when they see you let members of your staff shag the parents

all over the premises.

- Please don't be crude. - Sorry.

- You won't do it. - Yes, I will.

I promise you.

Jessie, after your father left, I found it very hard.

Mother, you won't even tell me who my father was,

so don't try that line of emotional blackmail.

It won't wash.

What do you want?

- We want you to retire. - What?

That old racing car

seems to be worth a surprising amount of money.

So we want you to sell it, assuming it's yours to sell,

and swan off to your place in Brittany,

leaving Jamie and I to bring in the local education people

and turn this place into a proper school, for everyone.

- Or you'll... - Yes.

I just wanted to mould you in the Darnley tradition.

But it didn't suit, did it?

I'm so sorry, Jessie.

I'm sorry I got it so wrong.

So you don't play any sports, then?

No, I don't think so.

Chess. That's not really...

No. You go to a gym?

Actually, no, no.

Not gym, no.

It's just that there's a gang of us guys, you know,

golfers, rugger buggers, a few local businessmen,

we kind of get together some evenings.

There's a group of... men.

- Are you Masons? - No. No.

It's a bit more... a bit more fun than that.

Oh. Well, can I bring my wife?

She's a teacher, you see.

She's joining me at the end of the summer term

when she moves to Causton to live with me, together.

But she likes to get out and meet people.

You look amazing.

- Yes. - What is it tonight, then?

Is it the club with the royal princes?

Eyebrows.

- Are you going on the train? - No.

I'll have my little minder take me.

Frock, please.

Oh, watch the hair.

I could kiss you myself.

Coat and bag.

- Right, who's covering for me? - Oh, I am, me.

I'll be in your bed tonight. I love that.

- Well, good night, angels. - Night, Charlie.

- She's amazing. - Just get in the bed.

Give us a lift?

You seem a bit distracted.

Something's puzzling me.

Like who broke the lock on your battery box?

Well spotted.

Maybe we should go back to the hotel.

Yes, Daddy. Why not?

(dance music)

Charlie and her chum are scamming me.

They were just raking a bit off the top.

But now they've got very greedy.

It's the sort of thing I'd have done.

Naughty, though.

Someone's going to get a bit of a slap.

You're not going to sleep, are you?

Not on your life.

Track rod end from the steering column almost cut through.

First turn of the wheel, it shears off,

causing total loss of steering.

Hence the poor boy not making the bend.

- Where does this road go? - Right past Darnley Park.

Do you think he was headed there?

Maybe. Maybe going to see his drama coach.

- You think so? - I told you there were rumours.

- Mm. - Shall we go and ask her?

You ask her.

Why would Thomas be coming to see me?

I just thought, what with your connections

to the estate, that...

That what?

That, um... With all your good work there, maybe...

Oh, dear God.

Contrary to popular opinion,

I am not some desperate woman who'll get it wherever she can.

- Oh, I didn't mean to imply... - Of course you did.

I hear the snide stuff too, you know.

"Jessie's very friendly with the estate boys, isn't she?"

Well...

Look at this. That's me.

- Ooh! - And that's my lover.

Yes, right, thank you.

Does he look like someone from the estate?

No.

- (chuckles) - Do you mind?

Murder inquiry, Miss Wingate. Sorry.

(school bell rings)

I feel terrible. I virtually told her she was a slag.

We can't always be sensitive, caring and diplomatic.

Sometimes we're just woodentops.

Get this down to Bullock and get him to find out all about it.

- His name's Bullard, sir. - Thank you.

I'm gonna have words with Harriet Wingate.

Your starter for ten.

- What? - Who is he?

Duncan Palmer.

Who else is he?

I don't know what you're talking about.

It was the '60s.

How many times have I heard that

as an excuse for interesting behaviour?

He was very attractive.

But hopeless.

I could never have married him.

Did he ask you to?

Oh...

Yes. That's why he killed himself here.

He wanted to be close to me.

And his daughter.

- Yes. - And does Jessica know?

We've never talked very well together.

She's always been a bit unlikely as my daughter.

I bet.

But of late she's taken a more positive line in her life.

In what way?

She's fired me from my own school.

- No, no, no. Down. - You've gotta move it so...

Down. Down. No. Got you. Got...

(clears throat)

- Hi, girls. - Hello, sir.

I've been looking at some of your class video diaries.

- What'd you find? - The rude bits.

- Oh, God. - It's just a joke.

But it's what I didn't find that really interests me.

You're Charlotte Cameron's friends, aren't you?

Not so much her friends as her pets.

Scholarship girls, we are.

You mean she patronises you to death.

She's really nice to our faces.

But laughs at us behind our backs.

So, um, what else have you got?

Jessica is Duncan Palmer's daughter?

Yes, but I don't know if Jessica is aware

of this interesting little snippet.

- Are you going to tell her? - Oh, God, no.

Not police business.

Personal stuff, I stand aside and let the bus go by.

Well, what would explain why he suicided in the school barn.

- Not necessarily. - Why not?

It's too pat, too neat.

- (chuckles) - What?

Tom Barnaby couldn't bear a death not being a murder either.

Well, it does sort of undermine our raison d'être.

- (phone rings) - But in this case...

DS Jones.

Sir, West End Central.

Can we confirm a Charlotte Cameron is one of ours?

- What's she done? - Hang on.

Tried to sell cocaine to an undercover.

Tell them to keep her in isolation till we get there.

No lawyers.

- Is that legal? - Don't know, don't care.

Keep her in isolation until we get there. Thank you.

What's going to happen to me?

What's gonna happen to me?

You had a sizeable stash.

Dealer sizeable.

Of course, any cooperation

will be taken into consideration.

It was Thomas Brightwell.

He made me take the stuff round the smarter clubs.

I had the kind of connections he'd never get near.

He threatened you?

Yes, that's right. He threatened me.

Well, I'm afraid Thomas was killed last night.

In a vehicle accident.

- Really? - I'm sorry.

- Oh, my God. - Was he coming to meet you?

Um, yes.

So why were you carrying the drugs?

'Cause of you. He said you were always on his case.

He couldn't get caught carrying. He said...

He said he'd cut my face if I didn't do what he said.

It's all right, Charlotte.

It's all right.

Poor kid.

Still, family money, good lawyer.

- Should see her right. - Are you serious?

She is lying through her perfect little teeth.

- Really? - Yes.

She seemed genuine to me.

That is because she is a pretty girl and you are a young man

and your brains are still in your trousers.

Thank you, sir.

I, on the other hand, being a desiccated old goat,

don't fall for that crapola for one second.

Oh, good.

I don't know, Jonesy. I don't know anything at all, honest.

Oh! What you doing?

Answer my simple question or I jump up and down.

All right! I was just kidding!

There's no need to get all Sweeney on me!

- Talk. - All right.

There's very good stuff all over.

I'm not grassing him up because he's dead,

but Thomas was definitely the man.

Thank you for your cooperation, sir.

But if the product was so good, why wasn't Thomas cutting it?

It's where he's getting the class As that I can't figure.

- Oh, I'm as blind as a bat. - Sir?

It isn't always the poor preying on the rich.

Sometimes the water runs uphill.

- Sorry? - Lao-Tzu. He founded Taoism.

Not round here he didn't.

Via my place, please.

Uh-uh-uh.

He hasn't had a walk for days.

Harriet, what the hell are you talking about?

I've changed my mind.

I've been wrong all these years.

Training thoroughbreds is easy.

The real challenge would have been to get amongst the mongrels

and bring them up to the mark.

What patronising tosh. You've been got at.

What's Jamie been saying to you?

Nothing. I haven't even spoken to him.

I've been talking to my daughter.

Who's having an affair with Jamie. Same thing.

Two washouts together.

Don't talk about Jessie like that.

She's a fine girl.

You've given up, haven't you?

The great Harriet Wingate has finally folded her tent.

Or finally seen herself for what she really is.

- I need to talk to Charlotte. - She's not here.

What?

Well, she wasn't at breakfast.

One of the scholarship girls said she'd gone clubbing.

- Again. - Harriet.

Don't look surprised. She is your daughter.

This place really is falling apart.

- Does he not walk? - Of course he walks.

He just doesn't follow.

And I can't find his lead to drag him.

Right, Sykes.

OK, go, find, find.

I wanted him to be a sniffer dog,

but he says he has sinus problems.

Oh.

Right, let's pretend we have a warrant.

Ever seen The French Connection?

Gear in the rocker panels.

Let's hope these people were watching.

What the hell do you think you're doing?

- Nice. - I said...

Mrs Cameron, your daughter has been arrested

on drug dealing charges.

She has told us everything.

I don't believe you.

And I have nothing more to say without a lawyer present.

And I demand to be allowed to speak to my daughter.

OK, we'll arrange that, then if you could present yourself

at Causton police station this afternoon,

we can start the formal questioning.

Very well.

Well, she didn't fall for that one.

Sir, if she talks to her daughter,

they will turn up with fully synchronised stories.

I hope so. I like to give people all the rope they need.

Call Bullard, get him down here with his spectrometer

and cover every nano-inch of this beast.

Then go and pull Jamie Cameron's chain.

- See if he's in it. - Yes, sir.

Sykes!

(Jamie) Thanks for bringing me the good news.

She's being bailed into her mother's care.

Were you aware of your daughter's activities, sir?

She's no daughter of mine.

(lawyer) Mrs Cameron would like to say

her daughter is totally innocent

and that it was she, Kate Cameron,

who inadvertently introduced

the seized substances in her car.

So she admits to the presence of substances?

You said that your people had found traces.

Oh, yes, I did.

Mrs Cameron did not know that the drugs were there

and can only presume they were planted

by Thomas Brightwell or one of his associates

when the car was being shown in either Paris or Prague.

That Thomas got around.

My client presumes Brightwell

removed the drugs from the car when it arrived here

and then proceeded to bully Charlotte Cameron

into introducing the drugs into certain London clubs.

(Barnaby) So Charlotte and Thomas didn't conspire

to cut Mrs Cameron out of the deal.

Charlotte was manipulated by Brightwell.

Who can't obviously deny or confirm any of this.

No.

And where does Charlotte's father

come into all this, Mrs Cameron?

Is Charlotte's father a part of the story?

Do go on.

Mrs Cameron would like to state

that her family do not deal in drugs

and that she would like all charges dropped

against her and her daughter forthwith.

- Forthwith, eh? - Can we go now, please?

(lawyer) Are you going to terminate the interview?

Um... In a tick.

Jones, why don't we bring our young friends in?

And the gizmo trolley.

Behind you, sir.

Ah, thank you.

It's all right, girls.

- What's going on? - Who are these girls?

Nerys and Bethan.

- Friends of your daughter's. - I know them.

Let's have a look at what they've been doing

with their little video things.

We've transferred the material for your easy viewing.

Jones.

How are you going with that estate boy?

- He's gagging for it. - Well, keep it that way.

This was some time ago. What Katy did next.

Today's mission, should you wish to accept...

Now, here's Charlie with her little angels some time later.

- (Charlotte) OK, angels? - Oh, yeah.

And finally, for now at least.

Pretty much completes the circle.

Supplying, selling and receiving.

And, of course, our wee scholars have lots more.

But they do get a bit repetitive.

You are so dead.

Guess we weren't so stupid after all.

- Snotty cow bitch. - And your mother's a prossie!

- (giggling) - Yes, yes, thank you, girls.

Sit down.

Mrs Cameron, anything to add?

My client would like to consult with me in private.

It's got to be her.

Doggy Day recognises Charlotte from the London clubs,

probably knew she was dealing, so Kate has to shut him up

to protect her daughter.

One down.

Then Thomas and Charlotte

steal a whole shipment from Kate's car.

Now, Kate can forgive her daughter

but not some yob from the estate.

So she sabotages Thomas's car which sorts him.

Motive, opportunity. Got her!

- Nah. - Why not?

Statistics, Jones. Psychology too.

What about their daughters?

Daughters.

Now, daughters are another mystery

within this mystery.

You know, when I told Jamie Cameron

his daughter had been arrested,

he denied her.

He said he didn't have a daughter.

Brilliant, Jones. Well done.

Thank you, sir.

And well done for digging up these magazines.

Especially this one.

Come on. We have to upset Mr Bullard again.

(Bullard) Duncan Palmer's skull wound.

The bullet enters on the right, low down, exits high left.

Totally consistent with a hand-held pistol shot suicide.

Mmm. But somehow we have to encompass this little news item.

Palmer was never keen on driving the Lotus X4

because, being a left-hander,

he found the positioning of the gear lever

more awkward than usual.

See, right-handed head shot,

easy-peasy, bang as per your photos.

But as a leftie... damn near impossible.

Conclusion...

Precisely.

See you later.

How could you miss that?

Your case. How could you miss it?

Hi. DCI Barnaby. How are you today?

(chuckles) Good.

I was wondering if we could meet up later.

Yes, I know the place.

(Harriet) Meet me where we first made love.

(Peter) So you picked it, then.

Mmm. Ages ago. Subconsciously.

But been a bit slow with the everyday brain.

Ah, there you go.

(Barnaby) So, Duncan Palmer.

Not just your best man but your wife's lover as well.

(Peter) He was a total swine.

And when did you first realise

that Kate wasn't your daughter... but Duncan's?

Not too hard to pick.

No red hair in my family.

Where's he gone, then?

- Well, I don't know. - Doesn't tell me.

Sits, thinks, charges off on his own.

Tells his dog more than he tells me.

- You'd better let me down. - Oh, I will.

Pull this lever... Good night, Irene, Good night.

Palmer also had an affair with Harriet Wingate.

He had a daughter with her too.

- Did he really? - Fertile little beggar.

Oh, but hang on. You knew all that.

- Did I? - Yes.

That's why you killed him here.

- (Palmer) Hatty? - You lured him.

(Barnaby) With a fake message from the young Harriet.

What a romantic suicide,

within sight of his one true love.

And then you had the fallback position

of him disappearing in the Lake District.

Just muddying the waters.

But no one found his body here.

So you kept quiet and carried on as normal.

Your wife died, and your daughter, Kate,

grew up and married Jamie Cameron.

Useless character. Impotent and infertile.

Not a single working seed!

Ah. So where did Charlotte come from, then?

- You'd have to ask Kate. - No, I wouldn't.

You told Kate

that you weren't her real father, didn't you?

Ergo not a blood relative at all.

So?

So there would have been no genetic problem

if Kate were to have a child

by the man she also called Daddy.

That's a disgusting accusation.

But rather a fine posthumous revenge on Duncan Palmer.

He seduced your wife, who had his daughter.

So you slept with that daughter and, lo, there was Charlotte.

Daughter, granddaughter,

and much loved in both capacities.

And that's why you had to kill again.

Starting with Mr Dave Doggy Day.

He was an aberration. An offence to mankind. An impertinence!

(Barnaby) You took advantage of your own teaching.

Yo! Hello!

Foot down and impale him on the crank handle.

(Peter) He could have exposed Charlotte.

- He knew her from the clubs. - And Thomas Brightwell.

Now, there was someone who really offended you.

A jumped-up nobody from the estate

thinking he had the right to own a classic car?

(Peter) An ill-gotten gains man.

(Barnaby) And how did you know that?

You were waiting for Doggy

but caught Thomas taking the drugs from Kate's car.

Well, he could destroy both Kate and Charlie,

so he had to be eliminated as well.

And your expertise certainly knew how to fix his wagon.

Literally.

(Peter) He was no loss. He was trash.

They're all trash!

Peter, you're a psychopath.

Oh, you really do want to die, don't you?

You've gotta go some time. I've had a good run.

(Barnaby) Yes, that would cover your murders very well.

Oh, be quiet. I'm not stupid.

I can see an amateur psychologist at work.

Amateur? How dare you. I've got a degree.

You're trying to bend my head around a post! Well, you can't!

So shut up and prepare to meet your maker!

- I don't believe in God. - Well, I do!

(clears throat)

Oh.

Have you killed him?

- No. - Good.

Should I...

Get me down?

I should get some photos of the crime scene.

Not if you ever want to have children.

(Barnaby) Tom said you were the right stuff.

Thank you, sir.

Of course, if word of my suspension ever gets out...

- I don't suppose it will, sir. - Good.

Not while my career maintains its steady upward trajectory.