All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S14E07 A Sacred Trust

Do you see anything?

Nothing.

My...

my bloody trousers have gone!

Shut up!

Lanzarote is one of the UK's

favorite holiday destinations.

But the Prescotts at Dudley's

have always taken their breaks in Morecombe.

I normally go with my dad.

Bring on the Danby's from Hackney.

Tony and Trish are Costa regulars.

I keep telling 'em, no more sex on the beach.

So we thought, why not give...

Yeah, about tonight.

Change of plan.

Give me the bag, give me the bag!

Night.

Night, love.

Whoa!

Yeah!

Quiet!

Idiot.

Ready!

Go!

Cal'?

Yes! Yes!

Yes'?

Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

Yes'?

Who am I speaking to, please?

The prioress... Mother Julian.

I understand you've had a bit of trouble?

We didn't call the police.

No, Bethany Hargreaves from the market

told me you'd had a window broken.

Mind if I come in and take a look?

There's really no need.

Don't you want us to catch whoever did it'?

We'd rather pray for them.

Good day, Sergeant.

Thank you for coming.

I'll leave you my card

just in case you change your mind!

You'll need another plank, Catherine.

Oh, careful with those nails, dear.

I wish I could catch whoever did this.

I'd put some nails in them!

Mother Jerome... it's only a window!

It's not only a window.

It's a Burne-Jones!

It must be properly restored.

And how would we pay for that?

You know what I think.

Indeed, I do,

but we are not selling the chapel silver.

It would pay for the window,

and a whole lot more besides.

Sell one treasure to pay for
the repair of another?

No.

Let's take a vote on it.

Very well.

I vote no, of course.

Mother Thomas?

Sell.

Mother Jerome?

Sell.

Catherine?

No.

Then, as prioress,

I have the deciding vote.

Thank you.

Please, just follow me.

Who is she?

Mother Thomas Aquinas.

Hang on, where are you going?

I'm sorry, it's time for prayer.

Morning, John.

Jones beat you to it.

I encourage enthusiasm in my staff.

What do we have?

Strangulation.

She's been dead

for at least 10 hours, I'd say.

There's no ligature mark around the neck,

but petechiae all over her face, scalp...

Signature injuries caused
by ruptured capillaries.

She put up quite a fight, the poor thing.

Where are the rest of the nuns?

In the chapel...

praying.

That's their job, I suppose.

Mother Julian?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby.

I'm sorry for intruding so soon,

but it's important that we speak.

Mother Thomas is with God.

But I'm afraid it's fairly
clear that she was murdered.

I'll be in charge of the investigation,

and I'd like your permission
to set up an incident room

here at the priory.

I'm sorry, but that won't be possible.

Why not?

Midsomer Priory is a house
of prayer, Chief Inspector.

We can't have police officers

stamping around at all hours

and shouting into their mobile telephones.

I can assure you we will treat the priory

with the utmost respect.

I suppose you could use the old refectory,

but you'd have to observe our hours of silence.

Which are?

10:00 A.M. to 12:00,

2:00 to 5:00 in the afternoon,

and 9:00 at night until 6:00
the following morning.

Perhaps it would be best

if we worked out of Causton Police Station.

And I'd like to speak to everyone who lives here

as soon as possible.

I need to see the whole community, please.

This is the whole community...

now.

Right.

Could I have the victim's name in full, please?

Mother Thomas Aquinas
of the Order of St. Mathilde.

I mean, her name in real life.

Mother Thomas entered the order

when she was 20,

and she celebrated her 60th birthday last year.

This was her real life.

Her name before she joined the order, then?

I don't remember.

It will be on file somewhere.

Who was the last person to see her alive?

We all did... last night at Compline...

That's the final service of the day.

After that, Mother Thomas

went to shut the hens in, as usual.

What were the rest of you doing?

I put Mother...

I stayed in the chapel for a while.

How long were you there?

An hour or so.

- And you heard nothing?
- No.

Who locks up at night?

Usually it's Mother Thomas.

Last night I asked her
to leave the front door open,

and I locked it when I came in from the chapel.

What did you do then?

As soon as Compline is over,

the Great Silence begins.

We retire to our rooms and don't meet again

until morning.

Any regular visitors to the priory...

Doctors, tradespeople, domestic help?

We do all our own work in the house and grounds.

A young woman comes every week
to collect our produce

for sale in the market.

That's Bethany Hargreaves, sir.

She told me about the chapel window.

Dr. Jacobi calls once a month.

And there's our chaplain, Father Behan.

He comes on Sundays, Fridays,

and holy days.

Whether we want him to or not.

Could I take a look at
this broken window of yours?

Any idea who did this?

Vandals.

We found some beer bottles
amongst the broken glass.

Do you still have them?

We put them out with the rubbish.

Is it important?

It might be.

What can you tell me about Mother Thomas's life

before she came to the priory?

Very little, I'm afraid.

She was Irish.

Her brother used to visit,

but he hasn't been for several years.

Did they fall out?

Not that I'm aware.

As time passes,

it gets harder and harder
to find things to talk about

with people from the outside.

That's been your personal experience?

I haven't had a visitor

since my mother died 18 years ago,

but I've observed it, in others.

You've been here a long time.

I joined the order in 1978.

Before that... I was a missionary.

Forgive me.

You've had an awful shock.

I created the garden here, you know.

And I made it profitable, too.

When did you come to the priory, Mother Jerome?

About 1981...

After my second husband died,

and my daughter had grown up and emigrated,

and I'd had enough of men.

And why here?

My great-aunt was prioress here in the 1930s.

Of course, it was a far bigger community then...

60 nuns at its peak.

And look at us now!

Catherine's our first recruit in nearly 30 years.

Is this usually a happy place,

would you say?

Mother Thomas and Mother Julian

never really got on.

Why is that?

Mother Thomas wanted to be prioress,

but it was Mother Julian that got elected.

And do you think that was the wrong decision?

I created the garden here, you know,

and I made it nice and profitable

for us all.

Do you mind if I carry on?

There are 20 kilos of fruit

to make into jam before the wasps get it.

Go ahead.

What sort of person was Mother Thomas?

Plainspoken.

Practical.

Kind.

Are you okay?

Fine.

How long have you been here?

Three years.

And your name before you arrived?

Catherine Norrington.

It still is, until I make
my final vows next week.

Previous occupation?

I was at Oxford,

doing post-doctoral research
in the history faculty,

Catholicism in England after
the Counter-Reformation.

Right. And you gave it up because...?

Because I found God.

Or, rather, God found me,

and led me to Midsomer Priory.

Do you mind if I ask about past relationships...

With men, I mean.

A few, all over long ago.

Any of them serious?

You mean, is there a man out there

still so madly in love with me

that he'd murder Mother Thomas

to frighten me into changing
my mind about becoming a nun?

Something like that, Sister Catherine, yes.

It just seems so unlikely.

No.

Everything was perfectly amicable and,

as far as I'm aware,

none of them even knows where I am.

She didn't have much.

Nothing personal.

What do you make of the good nuns?

Give me a nice straightforward
armed robber any day.

I'd be climbing the walls.

Let's take a look around outside.

Apparently, there's a small wood
beyond the chapel.

This is a weird place, isn't it?

I think it's rather beautiful.

The main house is Tudor, if I'm not mistaken.

Those women, though.

The robes, men's names.

It's not normal, is it?

You're still a good Welsh Baptist

at heart, aren't you, Jones?

Nothing wrong with that, sir...

Apart from the teetotalism.

And the hymn-singing.

No escape, is there...

Even when they're dead?

"Let not your heart be troubled...

Ye who believe in God, believe also in me.

In my Father's house are many mansions:

if it were not so, I would have told you.

I go to prepare a place for you.

And if I go and prepare a place for you..."

"I will come again, and receive you unto myself;

that where I am, there ye may be also."

Aha! A dingily dell.

Well, this is the sort of place the killer

might have hidden out while they were waiting.

Well, if he did...

he had himself a bit of a party.

Sorry to have kept you both.

I've been on the phone to the bishop

about this tragic business.

Sit down, please.

Thank you for finding the time, Father Behan.

I understand you visit
the priory twice a week or more?

That's right.

It's my privilege to serve as chaplain.

I say mass for the nuns,
hear their confessions...

which I can't talk about, obviously.

No.

But is there anything you can tell us

that might have a bearing on the murder?

Any worries

or special tensions inside the convent?

Well, not to my knowledge, no.

Four people living so closely together

must have had disagreements sometimes?

Yeah, probably.

The original nuns at the priory

were French aristocrats, Inspector,

and the present lot regard themselves

as their heirs.

Whatever was going on, they'd put up a show

in front of the servants...

which is essentially how they see me.

And you resent that, understandably.

Not at all. I find it quite amusing.

But for their own sakes,

I wish they'd be a little more open to
good advice.

Can you give us an example?

Well... they need to adapt to the modern age.

It's absurd, four women...

Well, three now...

Rattling round in that huge building

when they haven't the money to maintain it.

I've told them they should move
somewhere more modest,

rent the priory out, sell it.

You'd think I'd suggested turning the place

into a lap-dancing club.

Well, can't you just order them to make changes?

Chance would be a fine thing.

I've no power over them at all.

No, they're sitting pretty up at the priory,

and don't they know it.

You're here about the murder, I take it?

Shocking thing.

Can't believe it, can you?

You seen or heard anything unusual?

Any strangers been in lately?

Not that I recall.

Katy?

Not in here,

but I did see a woman a couple of nights ago...

Outside, as I was leaving.

Looked a bit lost,

but she'd gone before I could speak to her.

Can you describe her?

It was dark.

But she was wearing these really odd clothes.

- Odd?
- Old-fashioned.

Like a nun's habit?

No.

She did have a hat on, though.

A sort of beret.

Which direction did she go in?

Along towards the new houses.

Okay, thanks.

Is it true they're not allowed to talk...

The nuns?

Oh, they talk all right.

We used to sneak into the priory grounds

when we were kids, for a dare, like, you know.

I took a girl there once.

Added to the thrill,

if you know what I mean.

Hi, there, can I have a quick word, girls?

It didn't occur to you

to check the safe after the murder?

Your sergeant asked

if anything appeared to have been disturbed.

He said nothing about checking locked safes.

Could you describe the missing pieces,

please, Mother Julian?

A chalice...

which is a goblet, for the communion wine,

two candlesticks about three feet high,

and a beautifully engraved paten.

What's a paten?

A plate, essentially.

All in chased silver, early 17th-century French.

Magnificent.

French?

The Order of St. Mathilde

was established in France
in 1590, Chief Inspector.

200 years later, during the Revolution,

the nuns were forced to flee
and were given sanctuary here.

The silver was all they had to bring with them.

We only use it on special occasions...

Christmas, Easter...

And the mass

to celebrate Catherine's final vows!

How much is the silver worth?

£60,000.

That's very precise.

We consulted

a dealer recently, with a view to selling it.

Can I have the name of the dealer, please?

I don't know.

Mother Thomas handled the matter.

So you didn't go through with it?

We talked about it and prayed...

As we do about all decisions...

And decided against.

It's such an important part of our heritage!

Father Behan said

you were "sitting pretty" at the priory.

What did he mean?

What a vulgar expression.

I suppose he was referring to the deed of trust.

Yes?

When the nuns came to England

in 1790, they had nothing.

Except 60,000 quid's worth of silver.

Indeed.

A devout and charitable landowner

called Sir Anthony Vertue

made over the Priory to the Order

for as long as there should be
a community on this site.

Now there are so few of us left,

Father Behan thinks the house and land

could be put to better use.

But he can't force us out.

And if there were no nuns left,

would the Church be able to sell the priory then?

No.

It would revert to the heirs of Sir Anthony.

Do you know who they are?

No.

Does Father Behan know this?

I've never discussed it with him.

Looks like it's pretty straightforward after all.

Go on then.

Mother Thomas picked a dodgy dealer.

He was looking for a bargain,

and when it all fell through,

he just took what he wanted.

Poor old dear caught him, and he throttled her.

How did he get into the safe?

Probably forced her to open it.

Then he killed her in the chicken coop,

after they smoked a joint together in the dell?

Well, what do you think happened then?

Oh, I agree, that's the most obvious scenario.

So when we get back to the nick,

it's okay if I start contacting
silver dealers then?

And get the fingerprint guys
out here, just in case...

Since we're keeping an open mind.

How many nuns does it take to form a community?

Is this one of those jokes?

How many folk singers does it take to
change a light bulb?

I don't do jokes, Jones.

No, sir, I noticed.

The answer's four, by the way.

One to change it,

and three to sing about how good the old one was!

I went down to the mortuary,

but they said you were finished.

It's as I thought... manual strangulation.

Sorry, Joe.

She was in good shape for a woman of her age.

Ah, the simple life.

Homegrown food, no booze, no stress.

The killer was probably taller than the victim,

unless he forced her onto the ground.

Big hands, but not massive.

He?

Strangling someone with your bare hands

takes a lot of strength.

Well...

the nuns work in the garden,
do all their own housework.

No, you're right.

Nuns don't just up and kill other nuns.

Oh, I wouldn't put anything past that lot.

"Holy Crows," we used to call them.

Top-class convent education, John.

Made me what I am today.

Which is?

A rationalist and an atheist.

Right index finger first.

Thank you.

Now left index finger.

Thank you.

Your right index finger.

Now your left index finger.

Thank you.

Pair of gold-plated altar candlesticks,

English, circa 1885.

Ivory rosary, 17th century, Italian.

Oh, here's one... oak rood-screen, mid-Victorian,

40 feet by 15 feet.

Just the thing for Mrs. Barnaby's birthday.

Oh, Jones.

Yes, sir.

Be quiet.

DS Jones.

Oh, hi, Lindsay.

Really?

That's great.

No, I won't mention your name, no.

How old is she, by the way?

That's great, thank you.

Bye.

That was Lindsay Smith,

one of the kids I met off
the school bus the other day

at Midsomer Vertue.

A girl called Tamsin Bickford

has been bragging about

climbing into the convent grounds and having sex

with the school stud.

Excellent.

Not the...

Just go and talk to her.

It was just the once.

He didn't tell me what sort of place it was,

just that it was nice and quiet.

And when was this, Tamsin?

Monday.

You sure about that?

Me and Duncan, we're both
free last period on Mondays.

So Duncan knew his way
around the grounds, did he?

Yeah.

He took me straight to this place,

like a kind of a dip in the grass...

Yeah, the dell.

We sat down and, like, talked...

Smoked a bit of puff, maybe?

It's okay. I'm not interested in that.

Anyway, like I was saying,

we talked, and then...

we started, like...

Yeah, yeah. I get the picture.

And we were just getting well into it,

when all of a sudden,

I saw this big, black thing standing over us.

A nun?

Well, yeah, but I couldn't even see

that it was a person at this point.

So I, like, screamed, and pushed Duncan off me,

and I could see her then.

And what did she look like?

Old, glasses...

I couldn't see anything else, really.

How old is old?

45...

60...

Anyway, we ran off.

And when we came back to get our stuff,

she'd gone.

And so had Duncan's trousers!

- What?
- His trousers.

He'd taken them off,

and she must have picked them up.

Have you been back since?

No way.

That place gives me the creeps.

Okay.

Thanks, Tamsin.

I'll be in touch if I need anything else.

You won't come to my house or anything, will you?

I mean, I'm 17, but my mum would kill me.

Well, we can't have that, can we?

I'll see ya.

Cheer up, Catherine.

"Silver and gold have I none," remember.

If it was good enough for St. Peter,

it's good enough for us.

You're dripping into the tomatoes!

Mother!

You know the doctor said

you're not to get out of your chair.

Doctors!

Mrs. Hendred?

I wonder if we might have a word with
your son, Duncan?

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.

This is Detective Sergeant Jones.

You must be joking.

I didn't do anything wrong.

You did, as it happens.

Trespass, at the very least.

Stupid bitch shouldn't have said anything.

Talk about all your girlfriends like that,

do you, Duncan?

Why aren't you arresting her...

The old woman that nicked my trousers?

You heard about the murder
up at the priory, I take it?

Yeah, but I didn't have anything to do with it.

- Are you sure about that?
- Yes.

You broke the chapel window, though, didn't you?

What happened?

You were angry because you were made to
look stupid,

so you went back with your mates for a
bottle-throwing contest?

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

You come into any money lately, Duncan?

- No.
- Just wondering.

Because some very valuable silver

was stolen from the priory.

Probably on the night of the murder.

I didn't steal it.

Is that it?

That's it for now.

- What the hell...
- Shh!

I apologize for my son's manners.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

and Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

Is Duncan in trouble?

Not exactly, Mr. Hendred...
Not at the moment, anyway.

What's he supposed to have done?

Best you ask him about that, sir.

You obviously don't have
teenage children, inspector.

You don't say anything, okay?

What do you think?

Duncan and his mates broke the window, for sure.

The murder?

I'd swear he didn't know anything about
the silver.

Yeah, Callum?

Some coppers have been round
sticking their noses in.

Duncan!

Downstairs, now!

Yeah, okay, I got to go.

We'll sort it.

Okay, bye.

Hello, Lauren!

What is it?

What's the matter?

You mustn't say a word
about this to anyone, James.

Of course.

I think...

I'm afraid that my son might have had
something to do

with the murder up at the priory.

Here she comes.

Slag! Slag!

Slag! Slag! Slag!

Slag! Slag! Slag! Slag!

Dirty little whore!

Hey, what's wrong?

Tamsin, isn't it?

Nothing, I'm fine, but thanks.

- Are you sure?
- Yes, Mrs. Barnaby.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Lindsay.

I don't know exactly what
just happened here, gentlemen,

but it had better not happen again.

I do not expect to have to deal with bullying

among the sixth form!

Is there something you wanted
to say to me, Duncan?

No, Mrs. Barnaby.

On your way, then.

Don't push it.

The blood of Christ.

Amen.

The body of Christ.

Amen.

The blood of Christ.

The authority of a priest!

You have to tell them, Mother!

I don't see why.

Anything I said under
the seal of the confessional

is between you, me, and God.

Don't presume to explain

my priestly obligations to me, Mother Julian!

Would you please keep your voice down?!

Putting me in an impossible position here!

Hey, Cal? Cal!

We're all in this together, remember?

Course we are.

Not a word to the cops about anything.

Sure.

Mate...

'cause you know what happened to
that old nun, don't ya?

Okay.

Stir-fry okay?

Unless you've added another dish

to your repertoire since last week.

What do you hear about the kids
from Midsomer Vertue?

Oh, this is official business, I take it?

Deep background.

Well... there's Rebecca Platt,

who plays hockey for
the Midsomer County Under-14s,

but I don't suppose you're interested in her.

Well, there must be others,

but the only one I know anything about
is Duncan Hendred.

And?

Sixth-former.

He's only been at Causton for a couple of years.

He got thrown out of

two or three private schools before then.

And there's rumors
that he's part of a druggy set,

but he's never been caught red-handed.

Anything else?

Yeah, there was an incident,

not long before I arrived.

He beat up a younger boy,

and hurt him quite badly.

He should have been permanently excluded,

but as far as I can gather,

his father wrote a big, fat check,

and the school got a new music suite.

And nothing more was said, I see.

I take it that won't be happening

if young Duncan steps out of line again?

Ah, thank you.

Why do women become nuns, do you think?

I don't know.

To get a bit of peace,

away from men who keep interrupting them

while they're trying to work?

I'm sorry about the lady at the convent.

Thanks, Katy.

It's a terrible thing, all right.

We're all really upset about it.

Though Katy here didn't even know the
convent existed

until this happened.

Yeah, my point exactly!

Well, the murder was a tragedy, right enough,

but maybe the shock will do them good.

What do you mean?

Three women locked away

in that great big mansion, living like royalty.

It can't go on.

Good night to you both.

Good night.

Good night, Father.

I don't care if he is a priest,

I don't like him.

Hey! He's a good customer.

We should see about ordering some new birds.

I don't think we can afford it, Mother.

Well, no hens, no eggs to sell.

And we'll have to kill one for Catherine's feast!

That really isn't necessary.

Oh, yes, it is!

It's the most important day
of your life, Catherine.

I don't know who's going to do the deed, though.

Don't worry.

You catch it, I'll wring its neck.

Duncan.

Yeah?

I'd like to have a little chat with you.

Is there somewhere private we could go, maybe?

Anything you want to say to me, you can say here.

Well, growing up is hard, Duncan.

You might find this difficult to believe,

but I well remember being your age.

And sometimes we do stupid things,

things we regret.

I can read people pretty well, Duncan...

You have to, in my job.

I think there's something troubling you

a grave sin

weighing on your conscience.

Why don't you come to confession,

tell me about it?

I can help you.

Nice try, Father,

but you can save all that crap for my mum.

Me and Dad don't go for it.

You care a lot about what your dad thinks,

don't you, Duncan?

So?

If you choose not to seek my help,

I'll have no option but to go to your father,

and see if he can get through to you.

Now think about it.

Don't take too long.

Here we are!

G&T for Serena,

half a bitter for Colin,

very restrained, old man.

White wine for Lauren.

Cheers!

Cheers.

Good to see you both.

Colin's probably told you, Serena,

he and I have been seeing rather
a lot of each other lately.

Not that you've got anything to worry about!

He mentioned that you're planning to make

a very generous donation to the Hospice Fund.

I believe in looking after
the little local charities

as well as the big guys.

Oh, look, it's Father Behan!

Lauren!

Nice to see you.

Matthew.

It's not often I have the pleasure!

Hung up your cassock for the night, Father?

Well, enjoy yourselves, now.

Sorry about that.

Harmless enough little man,

but a pain in the proverbial!

Matthew!

Evening, Father.

For God's sake, get the money out of him soon.

I can't stand another evening with that
ghastly man.

I'll do my best.

You're buying the fish and chips on the way home.

Deal.

These trees need a bit of T.L.C.

I know, Dad, but we don't have the time

or the nun-power...

especially now.

We've brought you something...

A little present to mark the occasion.

Delia?

It wasn't easy to think of something appropriate.

It's perfect!

Thank you.

- You are allowed to have it?
- Of course!

Please, Catherine, don't do it!

Look, I'm not asking you to leave the convent,

but, please,

will you delay taking these final vows?

Your feelings might change.

Just take some more time!

I've been here three years, Mum,

and they've been the happiest of my life.

This is my home now.

This is where I belong.

Mum!

Are you sure you don't want me
to come to the ceremony?

Stay home and look after Mum.

Excuse me, sir.

My name's John Barnaby.

I'm in charge of the murder investigation.

Oh, yes. Yes, dreadful business.

George Norrington.

Delia and I came to visit Catherine.

Ah, you're her parents?

Yes, that's right.

Might I have a word before you go?

Well...

Delia is a little upset just now.

And I need to talk to the prioress.

Look, why don't you go to the pub

just down the road,

and I'll meet you there as soon as I can
get away.

The Vertue Arms?

Best idea I've heard all day.

Come in, Mr. Barnaby.

Don't you ever answer the phone?

I called you half an hour ago...

Outside the hours of silence.

I must have been cleaning the bathroom.

A young lady from Causton has been telling us

how she and her boyfriend were, um...

enjoying themselves in your grounds

when a nun came along and caught them.

Was it you?

You can use the word
"sex" in here, Chief Inspector.

You won't be struck by lightning.

But, no, it wasn't me.

Probably Mother Thomas.

She liked to walk in the grounds.

Bit odd she didn't mention it
to you at the time, isn't it?

It must have slipped her mind,

or else she decided not to bother us

with something so trivial and unpleasant.

What about the deliberate
smashing of the chapel window?

Would you call that trivial?

You think that was done by
whoever it was Mother Thomas

caught in the dell?

Probably.

How do you know they were in the dell?

It's a favored spot, Mr. Barnaby.

We've all caught young couples
there over the years.

Oh, um... you haven't by any chance

found a stray pair of trousers around the place?

Why?

Have you lost some?

So that's a steak and chips, rare,

and a cheese salad.

That'll be about 20 minutes.

Hello there.

Can I get you a drink?

Not for me, thanks.

Mrs. Norrington.

Thank you for waiting.

That's all right.

How often do you visit your daughter?

We've been coming every three months,

since she entered the priory.

It's all we're allowed.

And once she's taken her final vows,

we'll be down to twice a year.

Has Catherine ever said anything to you

about any bad feelings inside the convent maybe?

Or someone outside
with a grudge against the nuns?

All she ever talks about is how
wonderful it is to be there,

devoting her life to God.

You don't approve?

She was such a normal, happy child.

She was so clever,

she had lots of friends.

She loved her clothes

and her music...

All the usual teenage stuff.

And then suddenly, in her mid-20s,

she tells us she's going to become a nun!

We find it baffling, I must admit.

Catherine's father was a devout Catholic,

but she never showed any interested in religion,

not as a girl.

Aren't you Catherine's father?

Oh, oh, my first husband died

when Catherine was two.

I married George a few years later,

and he adopted her.

I'm her dad,

but not actually her father.

Well, hello there.

I'm glad you could come.

Have a safe journey home.

Oh, Mr. Barnaby,

do you think Catherine's in any danger?

We don't, at this point, know who the killer is,

so we don't know their motive.

But there's no reason to believe

that the other nuns are in danger, no.

Goodbye, Inspector.

Thanks very much.

Oh, by the way,

what was your first husband's surname...

Catherine's surname,

before she became Norrington?

Vertue...

Same as the village and the pub.

Isn't that strange?

This is Father James Behan.

I'm sorry I can't speak to you at the moment.

Please leave a message, and I'll get back to you

as soon as I can.

James, it's Lauren.

I'm at your house.

Where are you?

Kate?

He's dead, John.

I've not had time to determine much else.

It looks like another strangulation.

Time of death?

No more than two hours ago.

Probably quite a bit less.

You think it's the same killer?

I certainly hope so!

Thank you, Mrs. Hendred, I'll have that typed up

and arrange for you to sign it later.

Oh, excuse me.

There's no sign of forced entry, sir.

Mrs. Hendred says she had an appointment

with Father Behan to discuss routine
parish business.

Talk to his parishioners.

Find out who visited him at home,

anybody with a grievance... the usual stuff.

What are you going to do?

I'm going back to the priory.

It's 479-6742.

I can't pretend that I liked him as a man.

Still...

it's shocking news.

Would you mind telling me where you've been

for the last, say, five hours?

Where I always am, here.

I cleaned the bathroom, talked to you, had lunch.

Since then, I've been struggling

to get to grips with the accounts.

They used to be Mother Thomas's province.

And how did Mother Thomas
and Father Behan get on?

She had a little more sympathy
with some of his ideas

than the rest of us.

But?

Mother Thomas was an excellent mimic,

and I'm sorry to say that she rather excelled

at doing Father Behan.

Sister Catherine,

I'm afraid I have some distressing news.

Father Behan was murdered earlier today.

Was it...

like Mother Thomas?

It appears so, yes.

Tell me what you've been doing all day, please.

I was on kitchen duty this morning,

and there was washing to do.

My parents came.

I spent about an hour with them.

They left just before lunch.

After that, I spent some time
in the library writing,

then came out here.

So you've been alone for much of
the afternoon, then?

Yes.

- It's beautiful here, isn't it?
- Very.

Do the others know that you're the Vertue heir?

There seemed no reason to tell them.

But if the community doesn't survive,

then you will inherit all this.

That's correct, Mr. Barnaby,
but not at all important,

because it will survive.

I'll see to that.

Do your mother and stepfather know?

No, I found out by chance

when I was doing research for my PhD.

You didn't agree with Father Behan

that places like this are an anachronism?

No.

The Bishop of Midsomer's inside.

He's holding a special mass for Father Behan.

I've arranged for us to have five
minutes with him

when he's finished.

Did you really need me for that?

It's not as if he's a suspect, is he?

Well, I just thought...

Yeah, all right, Jones.

Any results from fingerprints?

Yes. Just Lauren Hendred's.

Hey, what do you call a bishop, by the way?

Is this another one of your jokes?

No!

Your Excellency.

And remember to genuflect.

What does that mean?

Bishop Graves,

I'm sorry we meet in such circumstances.

Would you like some coffee, Chief Inspector?

And...

Detective Sergeant Jones.

No, thank you, sir.

Not for me, no.

I will, if you don't mind.

I shan't ask you if you have any leads

or anything like that.

I'm sure you'll tell me as soon as
there's anything

you think I ought to know.

That's a very refreshing attitude, sir.

Thank you.

Is there any information you would like from me?

It would be helpful to get
some background on Father Behan.

His family were mostly Irish, I believe.

I'll be writing to them, of course.

Well, I expect you want to know if he
had any enemies.

I'm sure you would tell us
if you knew of any, sir.

But, no, I was thinking more what sort
of person was he?

How good was he at his job?

James Behan wasn't an especially popular
priest, but...

he wasn't hated.

He was fallible... as we all are.

What were Father Behan's particular failings?

Between ourselves?

He was a little pompous and not terribly clever.

Very conscious of the dignity of his office,

and inclined to meddle in matters

he didn't fully understand.

He meant well.

But the Church doesn't send
its best and its brightest

to Midsomer Malham, alas.

Thank you, sir, that's...

illuminating.

And now...

I have to pay a visit of condolence

to Midsomer Priory.

Would it be very un-Christian of me

to hope that the nuns don't ask me to
stay to to lunch?

About the priory, sir.

How many nuns constitute a community

under the terms of the trust, do you know?

I think that would be a question

for the lawyers, if it ever came to it.

But I think the Church would
argue that two were sufficient.

Do you think His Nibs was telling the truth

about Behan, sir?

Pretty good turn-out,

if he really was that unpopular.

No, they were paying their respects to the dead.

Plus, it's probably the most exciting thing

to happen in this parish since the Reformation.

Lauren Hendred was there.

It's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it...

Our chief suspect's mum finding the body?

I don't know about chief suspect.

Duncan's our bottle-thrower, all right,

but do you really see him as a double killer,

an 18-year-old boy?

Well, he's the only lead we've got so far.

Sarah thinks Duncan's into drugs.

Well, there was that joint at the dell.

Sarge.

The bloody fool.

You go ahead and charge him, Sergeant.

The shock will do him good.

This is a large amount of cannabis, Mr. Hendred.

I'm afraid we're looking at
a bit more than possession.

What time is Duncan due home?

About half past 4:00.

I'll bring him down to the station myself.

All right, I want you there by 5:30.

- Bag the lot.
- Yes, sir.

Mum, what are you doing?!

The police have been to the house again.

They've found some stuff in your room.

Duncan!

Does Dad know?

He was there.

He's promised to take you
to the police station himself.

Darling, what have you done?

Mum, please.

Just get away from here as fast as you can,

and we'll think about what to do.

What?!

There's some cash in here,
and some clean clothes.

Mum, it's only a bit of weed.

It's not like I've murdered anyone.

Where will you go?

I can... I can stay with...

No, no, no, don't tell me, you just go.

I'll text you.

Thanks, Mum.

Well, he must have got held up.

You stupid, pathetic woman.

There's good news and bad news, sir.

The good news is, I think
we've traced the silver...

Dealer in Oxford.

Well done.

And the bad news?

Matthew Hendred says Duncan didn't come home.

I reckon he's telling the truth,

because he's furious.

Uh, sorry, sir.

I was wondering if Mrs. Barnaby

might have some idea who Duncan's friends are?

Leave it for tonight.

The boy will turn up.

This way, gentlemen.

So...

How can I help you, gentlemen?

By telling us how you acquired

the Midsomer Priory chapel silver,

if you don't mind, sir.

Good afternoon, Mr. Barnaby,

Mr. Jones.

What is it now?

Thank you, Catherine.

Good news for once, Mother Julian.

We've found your silver.

Where?

A dealer called Peter De Winter

is about to export it to
a private museum in Chicago.

He can be made to return it, surely?

It appears Mr. De Winter

purchased the silver in good faith.

From a thief!

Not exactly.

It's a receipt, for the sum of £60,000,

signed by Mother Thomas Aquinas.

I don't understand.

Apparently she'd been negotiating

with Mr. De Winter for a while,

before calling the deal off.

Then on Tuesday, she called him again

to say it was back on.

And on Wednesday, he drove here,

collected the goods, and deposited a check

in the convent's account.

That night, Mother Thomas was murdered.

You believe there's a connection?

Not an obvious one.

Mr. De Winter has an alibi,

and in any case, he acquired
the silver quite legally.

That is Mother Thomas's signature?

Oh, yes.

Does this news come as a complete surprise?

I suppose not.

Mother Thomas always did favor
the gas bill over tradition.

It looks as though

we'll be able to buy those new hens
after all, Jerome.

You know what's bothering me, Jones?

We've got two dead bodies
and no idea who the killer is?

What happened to Duncan's trousers?

The ones Mother Thomas confiscated?

You mind if we take a detour, sir?

Why?

I called Tamsin Bickford again.

Asked her if she knew where Duncan might
be hiding out.

His best mate lives in Rydal Avenue.

Next right, if I'm not mistaken.

How...

Need a lift, Duncan?

So you're aware we found

103 grams of cannabis in your bedroom.

Was it yours?

Yeah, I guess.

Are you also aware that such a large amount

renders you liable to a charge of
dealing Class B drugs?

It was for personal use.

Quite the stoner, aren't you?

We're not really interested

in the drugs... that's a uniform matter.

We want to know about that night at the priory.

Oh, which night?

Was there more than one?

No.

Okay, so me and a few mates

decided to climb the wall, for a laugh.

Maybe a couple bottles
got chucked, but that was it.

And did you go back alone,

- a few nights later?
- No!

I didn't kill anyone, I swear...

no matter what that stupid priest thought.

Father Behan? What did he think?

I had sin on my conscience.

He wanted me to go and confess to him.

And did you?

No way, he'd have gone running to you lot,

wouldn't he?

He said he'd go to my dad.

Do you think he did?

I'm scared of him.

Most people are.

Right.

We'll take you down to the station,

where you'll be charged with possession.

You might want to think about calling
your parents on the way.

Did you ever get your trousers back?

No.

And it had my driving license in the pocket.

I'd only had it like a month.

All sorted.

He's an arrogant little so and so, isn't he?

Oh, thoroughly unpleasant.

But I don't believe he's our killer.

Father Behan thought he was.

Behan was wrong about most things,

according to the bishop.

What if Behan convinced
Matthew Hendred he was right,

and Hendred killed Behan to protect his son?

Then who really did kill Mother Thomas?

We're forgetting about the silver.

Mother Thomas was killed

the day she sold the silver to De Winter.

Is that a coincidence?

Uh, maybe Sister Catherine found out

what Mother Thomas had done.

Sister Catherine is obsessed by tradition.

Highly strung.

On the other hand...

Mother Thomas selling the chapel silver

was a pretty blatant slap in the face

for Mother Julian, wasn't it?

So you think it's an inside job, then?

Claustrophobic environment,

petty rivalries getting out of hand?

Not really, no.

When we talked to De Winter,

you asked him

whether he was sure of Mother Thomas's identity.

What were you driving at?

Every fancy dress shop stocks
a nun's habit, doesn't it?

Anybody could put on the outfit,

walk into a dealer's showroom,

and say they want to flog the convent silver.

Oh, I think you're on to something, Jones.

This case is all about...

clothes, isn't it?

Clothes...

and masks.

Mr. Barnaby.

I want to see Mother Julian.

You can't disturb her while she's praying!

Mr. Barnaby!

Watch me.

Mother Julian.

It's time to confess.

It wasn't Mother Thomas who found Duncan

and his girlfriend in the dell, was it?

It was you.

I was just going to embarrass them

and warn them off.

Then the young man looked up.

I recognized him, you see...

Or I thought I did.

But then I realized
that the man I was thinking of

would be middle-aged by now...

Almost as old as me.

The man you knew in Africa?

You heard about the murder up at the priory,

I take it.

Yeah, but I didn't have anything to do with it.

- You sure about that?
- Yes.

Duncan's father, Matthew Hendred,

has a collection of African

tribal masks and spears on his sitting room wall.

That first day,

you told me you had been a missionary,

and I wondered where.

But you're only half right, Mr. Barnaby.

I didn't actually know Matthew Hendred.

I saw him once.

I wasn't a nun then, just a volunteer,

running a school in a village.

There was a war going on,

but we'd been lucky.

Even though we were near the border,

we'd had no trouble...

until the day the soldiers came.

Inside, please.

Let's go! Come on!

Quickly! GO, so, go!

There were six of them.

Two were white men... mercenaries.

I got the children inside the schoolhouse

and turned to close the door.

They killed 23 people.

Eight of my pupils were left orphaned.

So when you saw Duncan,

you thought he must be the mercenary's son?

But how could you be so sure?

You've just said, you only glimpsed him,

many years ago,

when you were shocked and frightened.

I've never forgotten that face.

So... you took Duncan's trousers, and got lucky.

His driving license was in the pocket.

I wouldn't call it luck, Mr. Barnaby.

More like God's will.

Yes, I finally had a name for that monster...

And an address.

So I went looking.

But, obviously, you couldn't go in your habit.

No, and the only mufti I had were the clothes

I wore when I first came to the priory

over 30 years ago.

Good night!

Good night, love.

I don't know the village at all well,

but it's not a big place.

I found the house in the end.

Beautiful garden,

expensive cars in the driveway.

I've done a bit of research

into Matthew Hendred.

I know that he set up a private security firm,

specializing in overseas contracts,

mainly in sub-Saharan Africa,

and he made a fortune, didn't he?

As soon as he came to the door,

I knew it was him.

You don't remember me, do you?

I think you must have the wrong house.

I don't mind who hears what
I have to say, Mr. Hendred,

but you might.

To begin with,

he denied he'd ever been to Africa.

Then he changed his tune.

You think you can bring me to justice

for something that you claim happened

30 years ago in a country

that doesn't even exist anymore?!

Or maybe it's my immortal soul
that you're worried about?

A higher power will take care
of that, Mr. Hendred.

I'm interested in an earthly restitution.

Ha.

You're probably right,

I couldn't prove anything
against you in a court of law.

But the court of public opinion won't be
so particular.

Neither will your wife and son.

Say one word...

There's a charity I very much admire

called War Wounds.

I'm sure you could easily spare a million

or two for such a worthwhile cause.

Shall we say two?

You didn't expected him to give in

to a threat like that,

did you... a man who by your own account

is a ruthless war criminal?

So one nun

wearing glasses

looks much like another,

especially in the dark.

How soon did you realize that it Matthew Hendred

who killed Mother Thomas, thinking she was you?

Almost at once.

But since I didn't tell Hendred my name,

I thought he might not find out his mistake.

People go to prison for blackmail, you know.

You must do as you see fit

about that, Mr. Barnaby.

When I told Father Behan
about it in confession...

Without naming names, of course...

He was really quite shocked.

Why did Hendred kill him, do you think?

Father Behan

thought Duncan killed Mother Thomas.

I suspect that he asked Matthew Hendred

to come and talk to him without saying why.

Hendred assumed that you had told your priest

the truth about Africa,

so Hendred killed Father Behan to
protect himself.

What now? Will you arrest him?

It's all circumstantial.

If I bring him in now
and then have to let him go,

you will be in great danger.

And you can bet I will have to let him go,

because he will have a top-class lawyer.

I'm perfectly willing to take that risk,

as long as you wait until
after the ceremony tomorrow.

No, please, be patient.

It might take a while,

but we will get him in the end.

Is there nothing I can do?

Pray.

Receive this candle.

May the light of Christ

guide you throughout your life,

and keep you true to the vows
you have made this day.

Through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Hello?

Well, I'll see if he's in.

Who is it, please?

It's for you.

It's some woman.

Says she's from Midsomer Priory.

Yes, what do you want?

I want my money, Mr. Hendred.

Or rather, War Wounds' money.

I don't know who you are,
but this isn't going to work.

I think it Will.

You've picked the wrong victim, Mr. Hendred,

in more ways than one.

What are you talking about?

I'm hanging up now,

and if you call here again...

Tomorrow morning,

you will go to your bank

and obtain a certified check for £2 million

made out to War Wounds.

Bring it to me in the Market Cafe

in Causton at noon.

I shall remain in full public view

until I have deposited the check

in the charity's account.

After that, I'll take my chances.

But before I leave the priory in the morning,

I'm going to write a note
and place it in the safe.

It will tell the police exactly who to look for

if anything happens to me.

Here it is.

Go!

Hello.

No, it's lunacy!

I won't...

Sykes!

Come, now!

Come here!

Come where, sir?

Jones, where are you... it doesn't matter.

Come and pick me up from Causton Park,

quick as you can!

Sykes!

Mother Julian

has gone out of her mind.

Matthew Hendred, I'm arresting you

for the murders of Mother Thomas Aquinas

and Father James Behan.

Take him away and charge him.

On your feet.

Who the hell trained her?!

Well done, Mother.

Are you all right?

I'm fine.

One for the family album.

Grant this mercy, O Lord,

we beseech Thee, to Thy servant departed...

That she may not receive in punishment,

the requital of her deeds, who in desire

can keep Thy will,

and as the true faith here

united her to the company of the faithful,

so may Thy mercy unite her above

to the choirs of angels.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord,

Amen.

Catherine Vertue,

Catherine Norrington, Sister Catherine, and now?

Mother Athanasius.

This can't have been the easiest time

for you to make your final vows.

We take what's sent to us, Mr. Barnaby.

Mother Thomas's death was a tragedy,

but the convent will survive.

Do you really think so?

How are you going to attract
fresh blood in today's world?

Sorry, bad choice of words.

As we always have...

We'll work and pray and have faith.

Who knows?

Maybe Sergeant Jones will find he has a vocation.