All language subtitles for Pie.in.the.Sky.S02E04.The.One.That.Got.Away.AMZN-Hi OFF

Oh, good God!

Vicky!

Afraid you scared him off,
Mrs. Crabbe.

Did I?

Mink.

Animal libbers let 5,000

out of a firm farm up
at Haybury.

Can´t keep the damn things
out of the ponds.

You all right?

Oh, yes.

Okay to catch
a lift back then?

Yep.

Face it, Margaret, you´ll never
get used to the countryside.

No problems with
the last batch, I hope.

Oh, no, no.
Henry couldn´t be happier.

It´s that time of year again.

The V.A.T.

I did ring and ask your dad
for an appointment.

Oh, well,
that explains it.

Ever since darling
Jean showed up,

I don´t think dad knows
what day it is have the time.

Margaret!

Hello, Bill!

Dad, you might have told me
Mrs. Crabbe was coming.

Oh, sorry, didn´t I?

Bill,
darling?

Bill!

His mistress´ voice.

Thank you, darling.

Oh, hello.

Oh, Jean, this is
Margaret Crabbe

from Pie in the Sky.

Aw, yes!

Hello.

You do a bit
of cooking.

Only the books.
I´m an accountant.

That´s clever.

Well, Jean´s had
some sad news.

An elderly aunt
in Eastbourne -- heart.

- Funeral´s tomorrow.
- Oh, I am sorry.

Yes, well, none of us
last forever, do we?

Very nice to meet you,
Mrs. Crabbe.

Shall we get on?

Oh.

Bye-bye, darling.

Well, he´s completely
lost his marbles.

Hmm

Bill, of course.

Oh, yes, of course.

You realize he´s only
going to make

that wretched woman a partner
in the business.

Do you know, I seem
to remember

you mentioning something
about that.

Can´t have been more
than 50 times a day

for the last three days
in fact.

Anyway, they´re getting
married, aren´t they?

Ha ha ha!

In Bill´s dreams.

She´s gotta get
a divorce first.

What about this gammon, Steve?

I´d give that a couple
more minutes, chef.

Where did he meet her
in the first place?

Oh, he was on holiday
in Portugal.

According to Vicky,

she just turned up
at Gatwick

along with
the excess baggage.

Taste.

Oh, my God!

A bit strong, is it?

Perhaps you´re right.

You know, that old
Mediterranean moonlight

has been the downfall
of many a good man.

Oh, yeah?
Yeah.

Voice of experience,
is it?

What is that stuff?

Horseradish cream --

for the smoked trout.

Oh.

I was wondering if you could
have a quiet word

with Bill, you know --

something man to man.

Not a chance.

Oh, come on, Henry.

Margaret, no.

No.

Look, the stomach is my
speciality.

Affairs of the heart,

I´ve learned to leave
well alone.

Anyway, I don´t see why you´re
taking this so personally.

Bill is a friend,
isn´t he?

And she´s obviously only
interested in his money.

Oh, money. What money?

His Springbrook Farm
is hardly Rio Tinto-Zinc.

That´s all you know.

Oh, yes.

What´s that supposed
to mean?

Hey, Steve, look.

This one´s got something
stuck in its gullet.

Margaret?

Well, he got an offer
on the farm, that´s all.

Who from?

London firm called
Captain Fish.

Captain Fish?!

Apparently, they´re
mostly into

frozen seafood
and boil-in-the-bag stuff.

But they´re cash-rich,

and they´re looking
to expand up-market.

He´s never going
to accept that.

Could be.

Ah!

Oh, yeah.

Really suits you.

What do you make
of that then?

Well, as I understand it,

fish are always attracted
to things that sparkle.

You know, I think
the dreaded Jean

was wearing a pair
of these last Monday.

I suppose I better
give it back to Vicky

the next time she calls.

It´s all right.

I´ll take it.

Upon mature reflection,
I think perhaps I should

have a word
with Bill after all.

Hello, Bill!

Henry!

I didn´t mean
to startle you.

Just wanted to
return this.

We thought of putting
it on the menu --

tuite a la surprise.

Sorry.

Steve found it
in one of your fish.

Oh! I see.

One of the girls must have
dropped it, I suppose.

Thanks.

Is something wrong, Bill?

No.
No, not at all.

Oh, it´s shrimp!

Yeah.

So, that´s
the secret, eh?

No secret
to good fish, Henry.

Just wholesome food,
clean water,

and don´t get greedy.

That´s what I
always tell people.

It´s good advice, too --

though not many take it.

Like Captain Fish,
for example?

Oh, ah.

You´ve been talking
to Margaret.

Oh, he´s full of good ideas,
their managing director.

Wants to double the acreage
of the plant,

increase the stocking ratios,

put in a new freezer
unit also.

All to do with cost-price
margins apparently,

and something called
vertical integration.

Sounds like
a total nightmare.

Oh, makes a lot of
sense actually,

once you get past
the jargon.

And they´re offering
an awful lot of money.

All right?

So far, so good.

A little experiment.

Juniper

and apple wood.

The burn is not
as consistent as the oak,

but there´s a tang to it
I rather like.

So, you´ve decided
to accept then?

No.

I told him
"thanks very much,"

but I´m not quite ready
to retire just yet.

Oh, good.

Well, that´s
a great relief.

I´m a silly old bugger,
aren´t I?

And Jean´s happy here.

At least...

Wait a minute.

This is one of hers.

Yes, that´s what
Margaret thought.

Yeah, but...

Henry...

Good grief.

How does she do it?

Ugh.

Cambridge!

Tell me, am I wearing

some sort of electronic tag
or something?

Actually, sir, it wasn´t
you I wanted.

Oh!

Bill, what have you
been up to?

Mr. Pritchard,

would you mind coming
with us, please?

We´ve got some questions
we´d like to ask you.

Cambridge?

Would you mind, sir?

You don´t mind
if I tag along, do you?

Well, I don´t really
suppose I can stop you,

can I, Inspector?

No, Sergeant, I don´t
suppose you really can.

Dad!

What´s going on?

There´s
no cause for alarm, Miss.

Come on, Cambridge.
Give us a hint.

Well, I´d imagine
Inspector Browning

would prefer to explain
things personally,

wouldn´t you?

Oh, Browning --
but of course.

It would be Browning,
wouldn´t it?

Don´t worry, Vicky.

It will be all right.

Come along, Constable.

Move up! You don´t need
all that space.

I don´t think we need
detain you any longer, sir.

Thanks for your help.

Ronnie?

That´s Ronnie Barratt --

Jean´s husband.

What the hell
is he doing here?

Oh, Inspector Crabbe
is a personal friend

of Mr. Pritchard´s, ma´am.

He simply thought he
might be able to help.

Oh, did he?

That´s Jean´s car.

Yes, sir.

Well, what´s it doing
down there?

Good question.

Has there been some
kind of accident?

No, no, we think
someone´s made

a rather unsuccessful shot
at hiding it.

Not you, by any chance?

Me? Of course not!

Henry, what --

Stay out of this,
Crabbe.

William Edward Pritchard,
is that right?

- W.E.P.
- Sorry?

Those are your initials?

Yes!

We found this under
the driver´s seat.

Look...

What´s going on?
Where´s Jean?

Well, that´s another
good question, sir.

She seems to
have disappeared.

Are you saying...

This is a murder inquiry,
isn´t it?

Henry,

that earring...

The ponds,

you don´t think...

What´s he
talking about?

Oh, my God.

What earring?

Crabbe?

What are they doing out
there, Henry?

What the hell is taking
them so long?

It´s slow work, Bill.

It always is.

You just have to be patient,
I´m afraid.

Patient?

Nothing yet, ma´am.

What about her?

Well, she claims

she spent Tuesday night

at the Young Farmer´s Disco
in Barstock.

Stayed over with a friend.

Should be easy enough to check.

Hmm.

And she wants to speak
to her father.

No chance.

I need to get in there
to see my father.

Right, sir.

Let´s try and get this sorted,
shall we?

Now, you say that you
had no idea

that Mrs. Barratt
was missing.

And that you haven´t,
in fact,

seen her since
Tuesday night.

Yes --
No, I told you,

she rang on Tuesday.

She left on Monday
for her aunt´s funeral.

So, you haven´t actually seen
her since Monday?

That´s right.

Thank you, Crabbe.

I think we can manage
without your help.

Look, I love Jean!

I´d never do anything
to harm her.

It´s all right, Bill.
Nobody´s saying that you did.

But it´s what she thinks,
isn´t it?

Isn´t it?!

The earring
that was found

in the batch delivered
to the restaurant yesterday,

Wednesday --

Wednesday, yes.

Is one of the pair
you say

she was wearing
when she left.

- On Monday morning.
- Yes.

So, she must have
come back,

mustn´t she?

Must have done,
and yet you say

you never saw her.

No!

Do you expect us
to believe that?

Look, Bill --

I told you to
stay out of this.

Oh, come on, sir.

What really happened
on Tuesday night?

You quarrelled,
didn´t you?

We do know about that,
you know?

She came back,
there was a row.

You lost your temper.

No, no!

Henry?

I´m warning you,
Crabbe.

Ma´am, they
found something.

Clothing, ma´am.

Jacket and skirt.

They fit
the description.

And this.

Right, then.

You gonna tell us
where you put the body?

We´ll find it anyway.
We always do.

All right,
William Edward Pritchard,

I´m arresting you
on suspicion of murder.

You do not have to say anything,

but anything you do say
may be used in evidence.

Henry!
I want to speak to Henry.

Don´t say anything, Bill.

Don´t say anything
without a lawyer present.

Get him out of here.

How did the press
get onto this so fast?

Beats me, gov.

No one knew what
was going down

until a couple
of hours ago --

only the Inspector.

Oh, really?
Yeah.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Bon appetit.

Pie in the Sky?
Good evening.

No, he´s not available
at the moment, sir.

I´m used to being on
the other side, you know.

But when they arrested Bill,

such an awful look of...

triumph in their faces.

I just kept thinking,
"My God,

have I looked like that
all these years?"

There must be something
we can do.

Well, I mean, who else
would want Jean Barratt dead?

What do we actually
know about her?

According to Vicky,
she used to be a nurse.

You know...

the person with
the best motive is Vicky.

She had the most to lose.

Vicky?!

Margaret,
anyone can commit murder.

Anyone at all.

But Bill...

Oh, what now?!

Well, you´ve
not paid yet.

I caught her trying to
leave without paying, Mrs. C.

I was not!

There he is!
Inspector?!

Oh, for heaven´s sake.

Oh, come on, you´ve got to
give us something.

Look, you´re wasting your time.
I´m not even on the case.

Have you found
the body yet?

No comment.

Steve.

Well, why did he do it,
at least tell us that.

He didn´t, all right?!

He´s innocent, and my husband´s
going to prove it.

So, you can put that
in your blasted paper!

Right.

Thanks very much.

Oh, dear.

I know, I know.

I´m sorry.
I don´t know what happened.

It just slipped out.

So I heard.

Have you taken
leave of your senses?

I hope not, sir.

"Maverick cop Henry Crabbe...

"yesterday launched
a personal crusade

"to save the Barstock man
accused of

butchering his
former lover."

I think what I actually said was
"no comment."

You should never have been
talking

to the press
in the first place.

I wouldn´t if you hadn´t turned
this case into a media circus.

What the hell do you
mean by that?!

Oh, I think we know exactly
what I mean by that, don´t we?

Or do you want me
to prove it?

All right, Inspector.
Thank you.

Thank you.

Sir!

You´ve still got a body
to find, haven´t you?

I suggest you
get on with it.

Bad form speaking
to the press like that.

But then no one´s leak-proof
these days, are they?

Not really planning some
sort of crusade, I take it.

No, sir. I would like to talk
to Bill, though.

Yeah, wouldn´t we all?

He hasn´t said a word
since we brought him in.

Well, he might
talk to me.

Yeah.

How´d it look, Henry?

He´s a friend of yours,
I understand.

Yeah, I´ve known him
a long time.

And his fish
really is outstanding.

Fish?

Fish.

Oh, yes, yes.

Well, it´s tricky for you.

You´re best off out of it.

Well, I better go and face

the howling mob, I suppose.

I´ve taken over

the media end of things
personally.

Yeah, now that´s
a surprise.

What´s that?

I said "Well,
that´s very wise," sir.

Out the back way
if you wouldn´t mind.

Wouldn´t want you
bumping into

any more reporters,
would we?

Not avoiding me,
are you, Cambridge?

No, sir.
Of course not.

How´d it go?

Well, Mr. Fisher intimated

I´d best leave
well alone.

Good advice.

Can´t afford emotional
involvement.

Well, you know that,
sir.

Why are you all
so sure Bill´s guilty?

Come on, sir.

You saw his reaction
when I turned up yesterday.

Yes, but I mean,
I´d be upset

if the police came
and told me

my fiancee was missing.

Except that he claims
he didn´t know

she was missing then,
doesn´t he?

And he´s definitely lying
about Tuesday night.

She went back.

We have the petrol receipt

from a garage
she used in Haybury

timed 8:42 P.M.

Then there´s the earring.

And the wood where
the car was dumped

is only a half-hour from
the farm cross-country.

Hmm.

I suspect the daughter´s
lying, too,

although I can´t
think why.

Her alibi checks out.

Have they identified
the murder weapon?

Most likely a shotgun.

Punctures in the jacket
are consistent.

We think the knife was used
to dismember the body.

Forensics say that
the traces of blood

on the gutting shed workshop
were type A-B,

same as Mrs. Barratt´s.

Well, it all sounds
marvelously convenient.

What do you mean
by that, sir?

I mean that either
Bill Pritchard

was spectacularly bad
at covering up his tracks

or someone wanted it
to look that way.

Like whom?

Well, I don´t know.

But then, I don´t know all
the facts, do I, Cambridge?

Oh, come on, Cambridge.

This thing didn´t start
with some yokel

finding a car in the woods.

Now, who was it that put
Browning onto it

in the first place?

No, sir.

Really, I can´t.

Well, think of it as a...

delayed payment,
if you like.

Sir?

You know, for all
those happy hours

spent as my guest at
Pie in the Sky.

Well, you know, there´s no such
thing as a free lunch.

Or breakfast...

Or dinner.

Come on.

Please.

Ronnie Barratt.

Ah, yes.
The husband.

I was wondering about him.

Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Um, just a sec.

A Mr. Fremantle wants to speak
to the boss.

He says he´s
Bill´s solicitor.

Hello.
Hello, Mr. Fremantle,

I´m afraid my husband is not
available at the moment.

I wonder -- I wonder,
could I help?

Mr. Barratt?

Spot on.

Sophie not with you?

Sorry?

You have come
about the house?

Um...no.

I know who you are.

You´re Pritchard´s pal,
aren´t you?

Crippes.

- Cribb?
- Crabbe.

Right.

Well...

I suppose you
better come in.

Thanks.

Inspector?

Apparently, I need your
permission

to leave the premises.

Where do you want to go?

My friend´s place
in town.

That seems reasonable.

Just a minute.

What´s in the bag?

My overnight things.

A couple of t-shirts,

some clean knickers.

Want to look?

That won´t be necessary.

Thanks a lot.

Follow her.

It´s Fraser, ma´am.

He thinks he´s found her.

Drink?

Not for me, thanks, no.

I take it this
isn´t official.

I read your little bit
in the paper.

Well, I was
slightly misquoted.

I dare say.

I dare say you´re
also wondering

why I don´t chuck you out.

Well, I was rather.

No point, is there?

I mean,
you didn´t kill her.

Go on, then.

Ask me anything you want.

Right.

Thank you.

You told the police
that...

Jean had phoned Bill

from here that Tuesday night
after she came back

from her auntie´s funeral.

That´s right.

Well, I thought
you two were separated.

We were.

She decided to come back.
That´s why she rang --

to tell him
it was over.

Wasn´t it rather sudden?

Not really.

It was only
a question of time.

I always knew that.

That´s where they met,

my bloody boat,
would you believe?

Look, I can´t
stand it in here.

I was in the garden,
is that all right with you?

Sure.

Well, there´s not much left
of her, I´m afraid.

Did she wear glasses,
do we know?

Yes,
reading glasses.

One of those

chain things
around her neck.

Oh, good!

Sintra it was.
Portugal.

About 16 weeks ago now.

He was on holiday there.

We found him moping about
in some tourist bar.

Took pity on him.

Asked him aboard
for a proper drink.

After that...

I was out on business
most days,

Jean was on her tod.

Well...

you know what they say
about holiday romance.

What business are you in,
Mr. Barratt?

Holiday flats.

Villas, that sort
of thing.

You know, helping
people find

their little place
in the sun.

Well, you´ve done quite
nicely out of it.

Yes, I suppose I have.

No use to me now though,
is it?

Not after this.

How did you feel
about the affair?

How do you think
I´d feel?

Like cutting his
miserable heart out,

as a matter of fact.

But then you try and keep
things civilized,

don´t you?

Do you fish at all?

No.

You should try.
It´s very calming.

He wasn´t the first,
you know.

But she´d never actually
left me before.

Mind you, I always knew
she´d come back.

I always knew that.

That leaf over there.

The yellow one, see it?

But she did,
didn´t she?

It´s all a question of how you
present the fly, you see?

People forget.

The trout
is basically a hunter.

You gotta persuade her

that she´s making
all the running.

Mrs. Crabbe, so sorry
to keep you.

Not at all.

Um...

It´s rather awkward, this.

I did try contacting
the police.

An extraordinary woman
called Browning

simply didn´t
want to know.

And, I mean, normally,
one wouldn´t

dream of discussing
a client´s affairs.

But, well, Bill

is a very old friend.

And when I read what
your husband

told the papers,

well, naturally, one wants to do
whatever one can to help.

Naturally,
Mr. Fremantle, yes.

You told the police
that they quarrelled

on the phone.

Because it was
bloody ridiculous.

She said he was hysterical.

Couldn´t live without her.

All that stuff.

In the end,
she agreed to go over.

Try and calm him down.

But you didn´t
go with her?

I had a flight to catch.
Business meeting in the Algarve.

And, anyway, I didn´t know
what he was capable of then.

Apparently, no one did.

Anyway,

I rang her a couple
of times from Portugal,

couldn´t get an answer,
but I didn´t worry.

I wasn´t worried until I got
back on the Wednesday night

and she still
hadn´t come home.

And that´s when you
called in the police?

Exactly.

Right.

Is that it?

Yes, I think so.

Um...
Oh, by the way,

do you own a shotgun,
Mr. Barratt?

Well, yes, I do,
as a matter of fact.

But I think if I was
going to kill anyone,

it would have been him,
don´t you?

I´ll take that.

God!

This looks like one of those
really difficult stains.

Henry!

Henry!

I know who did it!

Really?

I´ve just been talking
to Bill´s solicitor.

And he gets it all --
Ronnie Barratt, I mean.

The husband.

What are you
talking about?

The £300,000 --

Jean´s share of
Captain Fish´s

offer on the farm,
of course.

Look, put that down,
will you?

I don´t know who
I´m talking to here.

Sorry.

There we are.

Now...

Start again,
Margaret, please,

from the top.

Right.

Well, it was
David Fremantle,

you know,
Bill´s solicitor,

who drew up the agreement
between Jean and Bill.

You remember?

Yes, yeah.

Well, he didn´t like it
any more than I did.

And he told Bill that if
he made that partnership

before Jean had got
the divorce,

there was nothing
to stop her

just walking off
with half the business.

I mean, he put it more
diplomatically than that, but --

Margaret --

Wait!

So, in the end,
he persuaded him

to add a thing --
a codicil.

Here. Here.

It´s just a copy.

I persuaded him
to give me that.

I mean,
it goes on a bit.

But the gist of it is

that if Jean changes
her mind about the marriage

or if the whole
thing falls apart

after two years, then
all rights to the farm

revert to Bill.

But what if she dies?

Ah! Well, that´s the point.

He was going to cover that
by making another will,

but they never got
around to it.

And so as her
legal husband...

Ronnie gets the lot.

Exactly.

Margaret.

I know.

It´s the perfect motive,
isn´t it?

Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Yeah, he´s here somewhere.

Hang on, I´ll have
a look for you.

Ah, he´s here.

It´s for you, chef.

It´s not more
journalists, is it?

No.

Crabbe.

Yes, sir.

Henry?

Yeah, I understand.

No, don´t bother.

I´ll drive myself.

Thank you.

Fisher.

He says Bill´s
ready to confess.

Forensics are going
through the ash

from the smokehouse now.

It´s definitely human.

And the blood on the jacket
looks like type A-B.

I´m sorry to put you through
this, Henry,

but he refuses to talk
to anyone else.

You do know this is a formal
interview, don´t you?

Everything recorded.

I understand.

Wouldn´t want any
slip-ups, Crabbe.

It´s still my case.

Hello, Bill.

I loved her,
you see, Henry.

Those few weeks we had
were truly wonderful.

For the first time since
Elizabeth died,

I felt really alive.

She was willing to give up
everything for me.

I was so grateful.

I knew she´d started
seeing him again, of course.

Little things.

I pretended not to, but...

I knew I was losing her.

When she rang that night,
it was just so sudden.

Now, this was
the Tuesday night.

Yes.

And what time was it?

Oh, Vicky had
already gone out.

About 8:00, 8:15.

She said she was leaving me.

I made rather a fool
of myself, I´m afraid.

Take your time, Bill.

Go on. Go on!

In the end,

she said she would
come over to the farm.

Yes!

I waited.

I suppose I had
a few drinks -- scotch.

It seemed like hours.

I felt...

I don´t know.

Then I started to get angry.

What happened next?

I don´t know.

I swear to you, Henry.

I remember walking
out by the ponds.

It was dark.

I remember her car on the drive.

The headlights coming
towards me.

Are you sure
it was Jean´s car?

Oh, yeah.

Well, at least...

I´d been drinking.

I just remember the lights,
and then nothing.

Nothing.

Vicky found me in the morning
by the pond.

I must have blacked out.

I was cold, frozen.

I couldn´t remember.

Vicky doesn´t know anything,
Henry.

She wasn´t involved.

She just thought
I´d been drinking.

I mean...

she must have guessed that

we´d had some kind of bust-up,
but she didn´t ask.

And I...

I tried to carry on
as if nothing had happened.

I told myself...

I was so afraid.

Why afraid?

The jacket.

The old one I use for work.

Vicky found it
in the gutting shed

and there was blood...

And then I knew.

Knew what, Bill?

She was dead?

That you´d...

killed her?

Please, out loud
for the tape.

Oh, yes, yes!

God help me.

Yes.

I killed her.

It´s all right, Bill.

It´s all over now.

Steve says they´re
coping fine.

No more reporters.

Good.

Not your fault, Henry.

You did what you could.

No, I didn´t.

You were right, Margaret.
I should have talked to him.

Wouldn´t have made
a difference.

Well, I know, but...

You know, I´ve been
thinking, isn´t...

isn´t it odd that Bill

doesn´t actually remember
killing her?

It just seems to happen

that way sometimes.

Sort of defense mechanism,
really.

The memory shuts
itself down.

All the same...

Well, it happens, Margaret.

He´d been drinking, Henry.

Didn´t you say
he´d been drinking?

Yeah, so?

Well, suppose he just
passed out?

It could still
have been Ronnie.

Oh, no, Margaret.

Ronnie was in Portugal.

So he says.

Margaret!

No, listen.

Suppose when Jean
turned up that night

and told Ronnie that she
wanted to come back to him,

well, suppose Ronnie
didn´t want her back.

You mean,
he didn´t want her,

but he did want the money?

Right!

I mean, we´ve only
got his word for it

that she ever went back
to the farm.

Yeah, okay.

So, he lets her make
the phone call to Bill.

Then he kills her.

And then he drives her
back to the farm himself.

Well, but still,
why not drive her out

a few miles and kill her
in the countryside?

Then all he has to do is dump
the clothes in the pond.

And dispose of the body
in the smokehouse.

And dump the car
in the woods.

Yes, and then he just
walks home

free and clear.

Yes. Yes!

No.

What do you mean, "no"?

Well, how could he
get away with it?

I mean, because Bill
is sitting in the house

waiting for her
to come back.

But he wasn´t, was he?
He was out stone cold.

That´s the whole point.

But how would Ronnie
know that unless...

What?

What?!

Come on.

Get your coat.

What is it?!

I don´t suppose this
is entirely legal,

is it?

Ha ha.

I do so love these quaint
country customs, don´t you?

Ah.

Yes.

Brand new.

Hasn´t even been opened.

So?

So, he said he´d been
drinking scotch.

Well, maybe there was
more than one bottle.

Maybe he´d finished it.

Maybe.

But it would still be around
here, wouldn´t it?

You go upstairs.

So, I´m looking for an open
bottle of scotch?

Exactly.

Any luck?

No.

What I don´t know is

is that good
or is that bad?

It´s good, Margaret.
It´s good.

I think.

Do you know what´s odd
about this room?

No. What?

Well, it´s obviously
their bedroom,

you know,
Bill and Jean´s.

Where is she?

I mean, all her clothes
are in the wardrobe,

but there´s nothing else
personal in here.

It´s the same in the rest
of the house.

It´s as if all the time
she was living here,

she was only visiting.

Of course!

What now?

Henry?!

Just visiting, Margaret.

Just visiting.

Hello.

Cambridge?

Hello, sir?

You -- um...

You´re not eating,
are you?

Not what
you´d call eating, no.

Well, the thing is

I need to know if you
found a bottle of whiskey

when you searched
the house.

Whiskey?
Yes, yes.

An open bottle
of whiskey.

Could you check your notes,
please, it´s very important.

Hang on just a minute.

Henry, please,

will you tell me
what´s going on?

You said it yourself,
Margaret.

You said it yourself.

Hello?

Yes, Cambridge.

No, nothing except for those
in the kitchen cupboard.

Oh, great.
That´s marvelous.

Is that it?

Um, well,

there is just one small,
tiny favor

you could do for me,
Cambridge.

Evening, Mrs. Crabbe.

Evening, Sergeant.

I can´t say I´m terribly
happy about this, sir.

But you did give
him a ring?

Yes, I´ve arranged
an appointment

to interview him about
a whiskey bottle,

just as you asked me to.

And?

Well, he didn´t break
down and confess

to any murders?

It´s only a question
of how you present the fly.

You see, Cambridge, the trout
has to think

he´s making all the running.

That´s a little tip I got
from Ronnie Barratt.

And I think
we´ve got a bite.

Drive on, Sergeant.

What is all this about
a whiskey bottle anyway?

Look.

The only scotch that
was in that house

was brand new
and completely untouched.

Obviously, somebody had been in
there and swapped the bottles.

Why?

Well, because they
didn´t want the police

to find the bottle

that Bill had been drinking
from, of course.

I hate it when you start

all this Sherlock Holmes
rubbish.

Oh, all right then.

The recipe for today --

take one bottle of
medium-grade scotch,

add 12 sleeping pills,

stir thoroughly
until dissolved.

Voila!

Trout farmer in aspic.

Do you mean it really
was Ronnie?

Mm-hmm.

He can´t have.

According to
airport records,

he checked in for
the 22:30 flight

from Gatwick to Lisbon
at 21:15.

And he was definitely
on board.

Well, anyone with
an alibi that good

has got to be suspicious.

Obviously, he had
an accomplice --

someone with free access
to the house.

He´s turning off.

All right, well slow down.
Slow right down.

The boat.

I thought it
was in Portugal.

How could you have been
so stupid?!

Just leaving it there like that!

Well, you can´t have!

Well, how else could
the police have found it?

It´s a bit late now.

God, I could bloody murder
you for this!

Oh, not again,

Mr. Barratt, surely!

Ronnie!

Ah, good evening,
Mrs. Barratt.

You´re looking remarkably spry
under the circumstances.

What about
the ashes, Henry?

They were human,
weren´t they?

Oh, definitely, yeah.

Jean´s unfortunate
Aunt Gwynneth, I´m afraid.

Who?

You remember, the funeral
in Eastbourne.

Oh, yes, of course.

And Jean had
been a nurse,

so I don´t suppose she
was too squeamish

about donating the odd
pint of blood.

Oh!

It was remarkably easy
to arrange all that.

Oh, was that one there?

No, sorry,
just a ripple.

I don´t believe
there are any fish

in this river.

I don´t suppose the romance

lasted any longer than
the Portuguese trip,

at least,
not on Jean´s part.

And, normally, that would
have been the end of it.

But then Bill offered Jean
a half share in the farm.

Exactly.

And so Ronnie saw a chance
to recoup his losses.

Well, yeah.

And, of course,
David Fremantle

started his
legal shenanigans

and Jean realized she´d
actually have to marry Bill.

Well, of course, that´s
the last thing

that she and Ronnie wanted.

I still can´t believe it.

I mean, to put dad
through all that

just for the money.

Oh, I don´t think it
was just for the money.

I think Ronnie wanted
revenge on your dad

for taking Jean
away from him,

even though it was just
a holiday romance.

Yes.

It was a crime of
passion really --

just like all
the best murders.

Henry!

A little something
for you.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, wonderful!

Come smoked, you know,
like salmon.

Very nice.

Look, Bill,

are you really going
to accept this offer

from Captain Fish?

Absolutely!

Terrible bloody
business this.

Up to your rubbers
in freezing water

half the day, sweltering
in a smokehouse the rest.

Anyway, it wouldn´t
be the same somehow.

And, besides,

they´re making
Vicky manager.

Yeah, Bill --

Stop gassing, Henry.

Right.

And don´t scoff that
straightaway, mind you.

It needs at least
24 hours to mature.

And don´t slice it
too thin.

I hate that.

I won´t, Bill.

And don´t drown it
in lemon juice either.

Bill, it´s me.

Oh, and let me know
what you think.

I will.

And, Henry?

Yes?

Thank you.

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