All language subtitles for Midsomer Murders S15E06 Schooled in Murder

Can you take notes?

Ladies, shall we commence?

First item on the agenda: new admissions.

It won't come as a surprise to any
of you that we are oversubscribed.

Those whose children make the shortlist
will still be subject to an interview.

I'm sure you remember yours. I do mine.

- Standards must be maintained, Beatrix.
- Oh, of course. I was just...

You snotty little bitch.

Debbie, what the hell do you think you're doing?

That's what I was going to ask you.

Firing off your little letters.

What I do with my life is none of your
business or the rest of your coven.

If only that were true, Deborah.

And yet here you are, washing your
dirty linen in public.

Maybe I should air everyone else's.

Sunlight is the best bleach.

Don't you think, Bea?

I don't know what you're trying to suggest.

What do you think, Miss Mountford?

Maybe we should have a chat about
what's really going on here.

- Is that some kind of threat?
- You're damn right it is.

Ladies!

Ladies!

Meeting adjourned.

Deborah Moffett was always a problem
child. Now she's just a problem.

She said her piece. It's finished.

I hope I can trust you to handle this.

Who's this?

What do you want?

Fine. I'll see you there.

Working too hard.

Well, I'm here.

Hello.

So, come on, then. You wanted to have it out.

I should have known you wouldn't have
had the guts.

What are you playing at?

Because I'm not in the mood for games.

Not today.

No!

Mr Brantner.

Mr Brantner?

Mr Brantner?

We need to service your room.

Can you come back later, please?

Very well, sir.

I just don't understand it.

He's never been an aggressive dog.

- Why would he pick a fight?
- I don't know.

How big was the other dog?

Well, you know, bigger than him.

So, have you had any further thoughts on
what you want to do for our anniversary?

I'm not sure I want a fuss.

15 years. I think that's worth fussing about.

OK. Let's do something nice.

I'll see if I can think of something.

Let's have Kate and Ben over for dinner.

I was going to think of something
nicer than that.

Oh, come on. It'll be lovely.

You can show off in the kitchen. I'll
get some nice wine and you can cook.

I'll take care of it.

And he can come to work with me.

Are you sure that's appropriate?

I wouldn't be able to concentrate anyway.
I'd be too worried about him.

John?

You are going to be late for work.

- I'll see you later.
- Bye.

Don't look at me like that. It was an accident.

Thanks.

- Sir?
- He's been in the wars.

- Poor little...
- Who have we got?

Debbie Moffett, sir.

Found this morning by one of her
colleagues - Jim Caxton.

- So, what is this place?
- Um, cold.

That's a lot of cheese.

Not just cheese. Midsomer Blue.

One of the world's finest.

It's up there with Stilton,
Roquefort, Gorgonzola.

Bit of a connoisseur, are we, Ben?

I know what to put on a cracker.

What's your favourite cheese?

You know that stuff in little foil triangles?

Midsomer Blue is made at the local
dairy and that's where Debbie worked.

That's quite an aroma.

Initial thoughts, Kate?

Probably pinned down by the shelves then
finished off with a blow to the head.

- Have we got a murder weapon?
- You're standing in it.

No chance of fingerprints, then?

- No, sir.
- DNA?

Not unless the killer stopped for a tasty snack.

Be nice to know what the victim was
doing up here, for a start.

- Any sign of her phone?
- We're just about to search the car.

We'll need her next of kin.

- Er, hello.
- Find out where she lives.

- Hello.
- Hi.

Can I go in now?

Mr Caxton, I'm afraid not. It's
still a crime scene.

When are you going to get her out of there?

Debbie's in good hands. We'll make
sure she's looked after.

No, you don't understand. It's the cheese.

These caves are a natural phenomenon,
with a unique balance of bacteria

that you won't find anywhere else in the world.

Can you imagine the effect a dead,
putrefying body is having on that?

I don't think I want to.

My cheese is aged over 12 months.

Some of it's on the verge of perfect
maturity right now.

This balance of lactic acids and naturally-forming
mould, it's at a critical point.

Are you aware that Debbie Moffett is a murder
victim, not just a hazard to food hygiene?

I'm sorry. I don't understand the question.

I'll take a guess that you and Miss
Moffett weren't that close.

We worked together.

What would Debbie be doing up here at the caves?

She wouldn't... This is my... She's
no reason to be here.

Sir.

Just out of interest, where were you last night?

Home.

With your wife?

No, I'm... I... I'm not married.

What about Debbie? Was she married?
Did she have a boyfriend?

No. No, just her and Holly.

- Holly!
- Hi, Poppy.

Poppy, what did I tell you about that girl?

She's my friend.

Girls your age don't always make the
best choices when it comes to friends.

She won't be at the school much longer.

- Why?
- What about Isobel?

Invite her round for tea.

Dear.

Go on.

- Hi.
- Oh, hello, Poppy.

Remember, you're little girls.
You're not dodgem cars.

Sorry, Miss Mountford.

- Mrs Moffett?
- Yeah.

I'm DCI Barnaby. This is Sergeant Jones.

40 years in this school, I thought
I'd seen it all.

40 years? You must have taught most
of the village.

That has been my pleasure and my honour.

- Did you teach Debbie?
- Yes.

Deborah was quite a bright spark.

It's a young age to lose a parent.

Small comfort but I believe Holly already spends
a great deal of time with her grandmother.

Maybe she'll know where Debbie was
going last night.

- She was here.
- And why was that?

She was attending a meeting of the
Parents' Council.

The Parents' Council is involved
with all the school decisions,

the financial dealings, admissions
policy, curriculum.

We'll need to speak with anyone who
was at the meeting.

I'm sure they'll want to speak with you.

Thank God you're back.

I was going to call but I didn't want
you driving home if you were upset.

- I can barely function, myself.
- Why? What's happened?

It's Debbie.

She's been killed.

Oh, my God.

Jim found her at the caves.

So awful.

Yeah. Awful.

There'll be grief counselling for
anyone who feels they need it

but our priority has to be the children.

They will have lots of questions to ask.

Beatrix?

I'm so sorry to interrupt.

Poor Debbie.

You OK?

- No, Helen, I'm not.
- Why not?

The police are crawling all over the caves.

It won't be for ever.

I can't stand them poking around up there.

Try not to think about it.

It's not as if you haven't got
anything else to be getting on with.

What?

We can't carry on. I told you. It's too risky.

Jim, I need you to do this for me.

I know. I... I can't.

Then I'll lose it all. The farm, everything.

If they find out, you'll lose it anyway.

I have to try. So do you. You have to
do what your brother couldn't.

- Phil did his best.
- It wasn't good enough.

That's why I need you, Jim.

- Helen...
- Just leave the worrying to me.

You just do what you do best.

Debbie wouldn't want you to dwell on
the sadness of her death.

She'd want you to think about the
joys of her life.

It's so hard losing a member of our
community this way.

How long had you known Debbie?

We were at school together. This school.

So you were close?

The thing about Debbie was that she
never changed.

And why was she here last night?

Oh, she was contributing to the meeting.

Debbie was a member of the Parents' Council?

Our meetings are open to all parents.

So why was she here last night in particular?

Like I said, we're a community.

She was just being part of it.

Thank you, Mrs Ordish.

I wonder if we're looking at a terrible
accident, not an actual murder.

I can't imagine why anybody wanted to
kill Debbie Moffett.

Yeah. Absolute saint, apparently.

Sir.

Happier times.

Hey, Wes.

All right, boys, that's enough. Off you go.

I hear you found Debbie. Are you OK to work?

Fine.

Still, you know. Tough day all round.

I was thinking we should give
everyone the day off.

What would that achieve? She'd still be dead.

- Right.
- Right.

Greg? I've just spoken with the estate agents.

I wanted to know why this place didn't
have a for sale sign on it yet,

why it wasn't listed in the property sale pages.

What's the point of having a dairy
to sell if no-one knows about it?

He said you told them to take it off the market.

I was going to discuss this with you.

I just want you to think about it some more.

You promised me!

Six months and we'd be back in
London. It's been six months.

That's not long enough to do what I
know I can do with this place.

And what am I supposed to do?

I haven't written one word since I came here.

- Not one word!
- Why not? This place is perfect for you.

It's peaceful, there are no distractions.

Of course. How could you possibly understand?

Put simply, the victim was killed by a blow
to the head from a large wheel of cheese.

Hard cheese.

Any chance it was an accident, if the
shelving collapsed?

The brain showed injuries to suggest
her moving head hitting the floor.

But there's a separate injury
suggesting a further blow

when she was stationary on the ground.

She was trapped by the shelves and her
attacker made sure she stayed down.

Have we got a time of death?

It's difficult to be precise, as always,

but the constant temperature
in the caves helps us.

It gives us a window between 8:30
and 9:30 last night.

Shame you can't tell us why she was there.

I've checked her phone records.

She received a call around 8:30 from
a blocked number.

Maybe someone asking her to come up to the caves.

It'd have to be someone she knew and trusted.

I certainly wouldn't go there to meet a stranger.

This was found in Debbie's pocket.

'Dear Miss Moffett, we regret to
inform you that as of next term,

Holly will no longer be a pupil at
Midsomer Pastures Preparatory School'.

The ladies didn't mention that in
their heartfelt tributes.

No, they didn't.

'This is as a result of a serious
contravention of the school's constitution.

This decision is final. We wish Holly every
success and happiness for the future.'

Signed: Sylvia Mountford,
headmistress, and Beatrix Ordish,

chairwoman of the Parents' Council.

Let's find out what young Holly is
supposed to have done.

Yes, sir.

Oh, and I'm sure you already have
plans for Saturday night

but Sarah wanted to invite you both for dinner.

- But if you're busy
- No. I'm free.

Sounds lovely. What's the occasion?

15 years of married bliss.

So, just bring yourselves and a bottle.

- 15 years.
- Wow.

- That's pretty...
- Terrifying.

I was going to say inspiring.

- He looks a little perkier.
- Do you think so?

He's almost back to his old self.

I'm not so sure. I'd like to keep an
eye on him for a little while longer.

OK, if you think that's necessary.

I went to a PTA meeting today.

And you came out in one piece?

- Well, it was a little...
- Unnerving?

Infuriating? Mind-numbing?

- All of the above?
- Don't hold back, dear.

I have had nightmares where I've been trapped

in a roomful of plastic chairs, cheap biscuits

and parents whining about the lack of
adequate parking outside the school.

I found the ladies of Midsomer
Pastures Prep School Parents' Council

to be restrained and intriguing.

Sylvia Mountford's yummy mummy
squad. I've heard all about them.

These were more Stepford
Wives than yummy mummies.

A roomful of perfect women and not
another man for miles, except for Jones,

and he doesn't count.

John, you should have said.

I'd be more than happy to spend my
days baking the perfect sponge

and choosing perfect wallpaper patterns,
and generally just being perfect.

No, you wouldn't.

Anyway, what do I want with
perfection when I already have you?

Hang on, that didn't come out right.

You're right there.

Oh, no.

♪ Summer is a-coming in ♪

♪ Loudly sing cuckoo... ♪

Obviously we won't be pursuing Holly's
expulsion now, not in the circumstances.

That doesn't answer my question.

Why was she being expelled in the first place?

- What had she done?
- Nothing.

Miss Mountford, I'm at a loss here.

It wasn't Holly's behaviour
we were concerned about.

It was Debbie's.

Lady Elizabeth Rodney.

She's the wife of Sir Henry, the
original owner of the dairy.

She devoted herself to improving the
social conditions of Midsomer Pastures

by building this school.

Very generous of her.

She also introduced the dairy scholarship,

entitling dairy workers' children to a
place at the school, all fees waived.

That continues today.

As do the behavioural requirements for
parents of children at the school.

Parents of those receiving the dairy scholarship

must refrain from all intoxicating liquor,

bawdy language...

Brawling, games of chance, dice and
playing cards, blasphemy

and congress outside of wedlock.

With respect, this is from a time when
they still covered up piano legs.

Obviously we won't expel a child whose
parents enjoy a G&T and a hand of bridge.

So, how exactly had Deborah Moffett transgressed?

She was involved in an inappropriate
relationship.

A married man.

- Who?
- I don't know.

The Parents' Council received a communication

from a concerned member of the community.

Not concerned enough to put their
name to the accusation.

Deborah was invited to a meeting to
discuss the situation.

She chose not to come.

It was out of my hands.

Debbie Moffett was having an affair.

I found these on her phone.

She took them to send to someone, obviously.

Presumably not her mother.

There were two numbers she dialled regularly.

- Greg Brantner - he runs the dairy...
- ...and Oliver Ordish.

- Ordish. Any relation to...
- Beatrix's husband, yeah.

But it was Greg she was calling on
the night she died.

Four calls between 5:32 and 7:55.

He was her boss.

You're my boss but I don't feel the need to
call you all hours of the day and night.

Let's keep it like that.

Who are the photos for? Greg or Oliver?

Very pretty.

They're for Debbie's mother.

Do you think that's necessary?

I think it's the very least I can do.

Never ceases to amaze me, you know.

What does?

How you find pointless little things
to do to fill your day.

I wish I had time for such distractions.

I thought you did. All sorts of distractions.

Once again, I won't be accused in my own house.

Is that why you spend so little time here?

Yet I still manage to pay the mortgage.

Perhaps you should have the place
all to yourself.

Where would you go? Back to the
state I found you in?

I don't think you could manage.

Get that, would you?

It's one of the few downsides of
living in such a close community.

Every loss is felt so very keenly.
Don't you think, darling?

Mrs Ordish, I wonder if I might
trouble you for a cup of tea?

Oh, yes, of course.

Oh, sweetheart?

I'm fine, love.

Mr Ordish, I need to ask you about

the nature of your relationship with Debbie Moffett.

She's a friend of my wife's.

We encountered one another
on a professional basis.

I work for the Cheese Board.

I'm sorry?

The British Board of Cheese and Dairy Products.

Government quango promoting UK cheeses.

Midsomer Blue plays a big part in that.

So you've been meeting Debbie
on a regular basis recently?

That's right.

My job is to put cheesemakers
in the right room with the right people

so they can build rewarding relationships.

And just how rewarding was your
relationship with Debbie?

Not sure I understand the question.

We found some interesting photographs
on Debbie's mobile phone.

Would I, by any chance, find those
same images on yours?

It's another of the downsides of
living in such a close community.

It's very difficult to keep a secret.

Were you aware that Debbie's romantic life

was under discussion at the Parents' Council?

My name was never mentioned?

No, just Debbie's name dragged through the mud.

It's funny how often that happens.

She had a lot less to lose than I did.

- What I mean is...
- I think your meaning is very clear.

Where were you at nine o'clock
on the evening that Debbie died?

Driving back from Causton station.

I leave my car there when I go up to Westminster.

Which train were you on?

The 6:30 out of Paddington. Listen to me.

I may have been... spending time with Debbie.

That's one way of putting it.

I didn't kill her.

It was just a fling. No strings, no consequences.

It was just sex.

We spoke all the time. At all hours.

Only about work?

Debbie was my right hand.

I wouldn't have lasted six
weeks here without her,

let alone six months.

Bit of a rock, was she?

I had no idea what we'd taken on.

When we got hold of the books...

But Midsomer Blue is famous. It wins awards.

Awards for small amounts of cheese
made in a labour-intensive way.

There had to be sacrifices on all sides.

Hayley and I had to sell the main house
and move into here, for a start.

All this was new territory for me.

What did you do before?

You're not a rugby fan, then?

I've chased a few eggs, a few England caps.

Really?

- Why did you stop playing?
- Glass shoulder.

Hadn't thought of anything but tries
and tackles since leaving Oxford

then Hayley's father died and here we are.

But there was Debbie. A friendly face.

Debbie was the only one that got that
I was trying to save this place.

Hang on. What about Jim Caxton?

Ah, the cheese wizard.

You've met him. How do you think
he'd be talking to customers?

Debbie had all that - the chat.

That's why I promoted her over him.

So, your relationship with Debbie

remained purely professional throughout?

No.

Helen, we've talked about this.

We tried to negotiate.

You mean when Debbie offered me less money

per pint it cost me to produce the milk?

That's a bloody insult, not negotiation.

- Market forces.
- Oh, I understand that.

Your lovely contract with Conglomerate Uni-Dairy.

Such a romantic name.

Puts me in mind of rosy-cheeked milkmaids.

Helen.

Problem is, my cows don't seem to
have got the message.

They still need milking and feeding.

What am I supposed to do with all this milk?

So I decided to do this.

Hey!

Helen!

Mrs Caxton, DS Jones. I suggest you stop that.

Immediately!

Poppy, will you please eat something?

I don't like it.

You're being silly. You have it every week.

I don't want it any more.

- And why not?
- I don't think we should eat animals.

Now you really are being silly.

I'm not. They have feelings too.

And how they're killed, it's cruel and...

- bar... bar...
- Barbaric?

That's right, Daddy.

Where do you think she's getting this from?

It can't be.

Who have you been talking to, Poppy?

Nobody.

You remember that conversation we
were having, about lying?

It just gets you into more trouble.

OK. I'll be in the pub if you need me.

I can't imagine we will.

How about some beans on toast, instead?

There we are, sir.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Mummy's gonna make sure of that.

Just about sums you up, you cold bitch.

Fine. I'm going back to the bloody pub.

Who's there?

- What are you doing?
- Feeding the dog.

Is he on a diet?

I wanna make sure we're keeping him healthy.

Oh, well, I don't think he
appreciates your concern.

John, what happened when
you took him to the vets?

What do you mean?

Well, you've been so worried about him.

Should I be worried too?

No, no, absolutely not. He's... He's fine.

Oh, so I... I spoke to Ben and Kate
and they're on for Saturday night,

so I'd better think about the menu.

Any special requests?
I'll do all your favourites.

That'll be lovely.

And lobster's so expensive, this time of year.

Lobster? I didn't even know you liked it.

15 years and I'm still surprising you.

- See you later.
- Bye.

Jones?

- A bit of a nasty one, sir.
- Aren't they always?

Kate, what have we got?

Something very odd indeed.

They aren't from decomposition, are they?

I wouldn't expect that for another 12 hours.

I think time of death was somewhere
around 10 o'clock last night.

According to the landlord of the Spotted
Cow, he was there till about 9:30.

So the maggots...?

I don't think they're even blowfly maggots.

I need to get them back to the lab.

Could they be related to the cause of death?

Not as far as I can tell.

So they were put there deliberately.

Why?

Maybe they're... maggots with a message.

Mrs Ordish, I'm very sorry,

but I'm afraid we have to ask you some questions.

What time did your husband
go to the pub, last night?

It was around seven o'clock.

And you didn't wait up for him?

No.

Were you and your husband on good
terms when he left for the pub?

Were you aware that the allegations
about Debbie Moffett's private life

also involved your husband?

- I'm not stupid.
- No, I didn't think you were.

Credit me with enough intelligence
not to kill my husband

where my daughter might find him.

Yes, you're cleverer than that.

Clever enough to anonymously tip off your own
committee about your husband's mistress.

And, in the circumstances,

did you really expect Debbie
to show up at that meeting?

Nothing that woman did came as a surprise to me.

Does that include her turning
up dead, Mrs Ordish?

It's a simple case of a woman scorned.

First, she kills the mistress,

then her husband meets a
sticky end to finish the job.

And the maggots?

Like you said, they're a message,

that Oliver Ordish was a cheating maggot.

The way the killer lay in
wait, bided his or her time,

that's not a crime of passion or outrage.

So what's your theory, then?

Everything in this village centres
around one thing: the dairy.

It's muddled along for over a century
and then in comes Greg Brantner.

And Jim Caxton is pushed aside.

Yesterday's man.

Greg's ambitious and driven.

Perhaps Debbie and Oliver's affair
got in the way of his plans.

But Greg's got an alibi for
the night Debbie died.

What if I make sure it stands up?

Any news?

PC Milton, are you receiving, over?

Milton receiving. Please stand by.

Standing by.

Greg Brantner was supposed to be speaking

at the rugby club dinner the night Debbie died.

We knew that.

We didn't know it was
cancelled last-minute.

He checked himself into the hotel for the night.

He ordered champagne - that's not
something you drink on your own.

I've arranged to meet him again.

I want to speak to someone who doesn't
rely on the dairy for their livelihood.

How about someone with an axe to grind?

Always useful.

This is it. It has to stop.
It-It's too much.

- It's too much.
- Jim, calm down.

No, that won't work
on me, not this time.

I knew this was wrong in the first
place. I should've stopped it then.

Yeah, but we didn't, now we've gone too far.

No, you've gone too far.

- What's that supposed to mean?
- The way they found Oliver.

- Jim, I didn't have anything to do with...
- I don't want to know!

Jim, how can you even think that?

It's over, Helen.

What are you gonna do? Jim?

- Mrs Caxton?
- Yeah?

Could I have a word?

Hello, Poppy.

- You know it was cancelled?
- Yes, I knew.

They called me the night before,
something about a flooded function room.

- But you still went to the hotel.
- Why?

- I had a business meeting.
- With who?

It was Debbie.

You told me your relationship
with her was purely professional.

It was.

Look, I know how this sounds...

It sounds like you're not telling me the truth.

OK, if I tell you something,
it can't go any further.

I can't make any promises.

Debbie and I were supposed to be celebrating.

We pulled off a very big deal
with a national supermarket.

The sort of deal that secures the future
of Midsomer Blue for years to come.

That's why I ordered the champagne.

So Midsomer Blue won't be made
in the old-fashioned way?

But it still has to be made in Midsomer
Pastures so that we can use the name,

it's just that we'll be using more
up-to-date food technology.

And less employees.

You understand why Debbie and I had
to keep things on the down-low.

Didn't want to give the Luddites a heads-up.

Did Oliver Ordish know anything about your plans?

Of course.

He made the introductions.

He helped broker the deal.

- So, you see, all above board.
- Clearly.

Why did you keep it a secret from your wife?

She's the one who inherited her family's dairy.

Won't she have something to say
about these changes?

Hayley's one of those creative types,
doesn't have a head for business.

And?

I just didn't wanna bother her with
it when she's trying to write, OK?

Oh, by the way, can I see your last
set of accounts, please?

Mrs Ordish, can I get you anything?

Where's Poppy?

Poppy?

Poppy, are you in there?

Poppy!

Where's my daughter?

Years of doing business with the
dairy and it meant nothing.

You know, the day I buried Phil,
I still made the milk delivery.

I wonder why I bothered now.

- Phil?
- My late husband.

I'm sorry. Do you mind me asking how...?

Suicide.

Apparently, he'd rather take a handful
of sleeping pills than face our problems,

so he left me to face 'em on my own.

Still, what can't be cured must be endured.

Can't all take the easy way out.

I don't think suicide is ever the 'easy' option.

It's not exactly a picnic for
those of us left behind.

- Did you consider selling up?
- Oh, yeah.

Might have even been able to pay off the debts,

but only if I could've sold
it as a going concern.

But Greg and Debbie put paid to that.

Greg doesn't owe me a thing, but...
Hayley's from Midsomer Pastures.

She should know better, but she
just let me go to the wall.

Give it 12 months, there won't be a
dairy farm in these pastures.

They'll all be in tins of dog food.

- That must be very distressing.
- Oh, don't worry about me.

I'm not about to reach for
the sleeping pills... yet.

Excuse me.

Barnaby.

Hard not to think the worst.

She can't have got far in this amount of time.

If she's been taken...

Then this is a different case and we're
looking for a different kind of killer.

I was holding her. I don't
understand how this can happen.

Could she have gone to see a friend?

No.

She knows better than that and all
her friends live too far away.

What about family? Is there anyone nearby?

No, there's no-one.

She just has me now and I just have her.

Mrs Ordish, I'm sorry to have to ask you this,

but can you think of anyone
who might wish to harm Poppy?

She's just a little girl.

Perhaps in connection with
your husband, or yourself?

No, and you're talking like she...

She's not, OK. She can't be.

- Beatrix.
- Hayley.

Poppy's gone missing.

Beatrix, I was coming to say how sorry
I was about Oliver. I had no idea.

I think I'll join the search, sir.

Now, tell me, when did you last see her?

Jim? Jim?

Please!

No, I have to make sure. I should never have
got involved in this in the first place.

I just can't help wondering what
I've done to deserve all this.

First Oliver and now...
You mustn't think like that.

I mean, what could you possibly
have done that was so bad?

Absolutely nothing.

Hayley, I do hope you're not encouraging
Beatrix to think negatively.

- Especially at this time.
- Of course not.

That would be rather insensitive.

- I was just...
- Perhaps you could do something useful.

Do you still know how to make tea?

Of course. I'll just...

I talked you into it.

I shouldn't have taken advantage of you.

No, it's not that, it's just I...

I can't think when I'm around you, Helen.

You confuse me, you always have.

I'm sorry.

I'll keep going.

You don't have to, not for me.

Poppy?

Poppy!

Poppy!

Poppy, are you in there?

No, I'm here.

- Where have you been?
- I went for a walk.

A walk? Come on.

- Come up here. You go first.
- OK.

Do you know how worried your mummy's been?

Sorry.

Who were you with?

Nobody. I was on my own.

For all this time? Are you sure?

Are we going home now?

I think we better had, don't you?

Mrs Ordish...

Poppy.

There you are, you see. No need for
all the histrionics.

She thought her daughter was dead.

I wasn't talking about Beatrix.

I don't think you'll be needed now.

Perhaps you should go.

Cause of death is strangulation.

The small haemorrhages around
the eyes are consistent with this.

The killer used a garrotte made of
something very strong and very fine.

A cheese wire?

Well, that would do the job.

Quick and nasty. And the maggots?

I found traces of organic matter on
them and around the victim's mouth.

Organic matter? I think the
maggots are cheese fly larvae.

I'm waiting for that to be confirmed
by an entomologist.

Cheese?

We are sure they didn't occur naturally?

There's a lot of cheese in Midsomer Pastures.

It could be something he ate.

No, stomach contents were meat and vegetables.

There was no cheese or larvae in his oesophagus,

suggesting they were placed postmortem.

Why?

Well, he would have swallowed by
reflex, had he still been alive.

Thank you, Kate.

Are you very busy this afternoon?

This way, guys. This is it.

Greg?

Go ahead and do whatever you need to do.

Greg?

Ah, Jim, I really didn't expect you to be here.

Look, this is nothing for you to worry about.

What do you mean?

I've already had the police
traipsing through here.

This is a delicate environment.

You just get them out of here.

- You're hurting me.
- Good.

Then you might actually listen
for once in your damn life.

It's over, Jim.

What are you saying?

That things are about to change around here

and you are surplus to my requirements.

Oh, really?

You don't have a clue...

It's true, that's why I've got these
people to help me do it

and they'll do it faster, cleaner,
bigger and with a lot less whining.

So time to move on?

These are the accounts for the dairy.

Greg Brantner was telling the truth.

The place had a couple of months, at best.

- Supermarket deal saved the day.
- Good for Greg.

But, while he was struggling
to pay the dairy farmers,

he was making large, regular payments
to a company called Papaver Holdings.

And what do Papaver Holdings do?

Nothing, as far as I can see.

There are no invoices, no delivery notes.

But guess whose address the
company is registered to?

Papaver. Latin name for 'poppy'.

Nice of Oliver to be so sentimental
about his corruption.

I paid Oliver a consultancy fee.
Nothing illegal in that.

Turns out he was being paid
quite a few consultancy fees.

He was working for Conglomerate Uni-Dairy too.

How much pressure did he put you under
to order all your milk from them?

That's the thing when you start paying bribes.

There's a point where they become hush money.

And there is a way of ending a
business relationship like that.

This is all pure conjecture.

You have nothing on me.

Not yet.

What's this?

I thought we should talk.

Yeah, if you e-mail me anything you find.

Yeah, that's great. Thanks.

I wasn't expecting that.

When was the last time you
had your dressings changed?

Let's try and make you a bit
more comfortable, shall we?

How is he?

See for yourself.

That can't be right, can it?

What's the boss up to?

You do understand why I was angry?

Sure.

You've lied to me, hidden things.

I didn't think you were interested.

You never gave me a chance.

You kept telling me how much you hated
this place, how you couldn't write here.

Actually, I managed a couple
of chapters, this morning.

See? It can't be that bad.

I suppose.

I think we could have a real future here.

It's not what I imagined for us.

- I know that.
- But if it's what you really want...

- then I'll give it my best.
- You won't regret it.

I won't let you.

- That's very nice.
- Sweetheart!

Mummy needs to go out, but Emily's here.

- Where are you going?
- Nowhere that need worry you.

- I'll say you later, all right?
- Hi.

Hi.

That's going to ruin my day.

- Hi.
- Hi.

What?

Jake.

Jake!

I was very sorry to hear about Oliver.

When's the funeral? I'd love to pay my respects.

Stay away and I don't want you anywhere
near Poppy, do you understand?

Why, what do you think I'll do to her?

Nothing.

I just don't want you confusing her.

About what?

She's just a little girl, I don't want her
head filled with your vegan nonsense.

- It's not nonsense.
- For God's sake!

We live in a village famous
for its bloody cheese!

Do you know why I became a vegan?

So you could make life harder?

Yeah? That's your job.

Yeah, on dairy farms,

they're only happy when a baby
cow is born if it's a female.

Those cows are kept with their
mothers, nurtured and looked after.

But the male calves, nobody wants them.

So when a bullock is born,
he's taken away and shot.

Murdered, because he's worthless.

Absolutely worthless.

Hello?

Who's there?

Who's there?

Am I supposed to be scared?

Did you get the spatter patterns?
Yeah. Oh, great. Thank you.

Morning, sir.

Looks like he disturbed an intruder
and it all turned nasty.

Is there anything missing?

Not even a petty cash box.

Single stab wound.

What is that?

A cheese needle, apparently.

Usually used for making holes in cheese,
not cheesemakers.

Very effective, though.

A small, sharp point requiring relatively
little force to push it through the flesh.

Any sign of a struggle?

The scene doesn't suggest that.

Minimal spatter and staining.

The track of the weapon took
it straight through the heart.

It would have stopped the heart.

- Who discovered the body?
- His wife.

She's being looked after at the house.

I came down and the kitchen door was wide open.

I went out to see what was
going on and there he was...

So the security alarm didn't wake you?

I'd had a bottle of wine.

We lived in London for years.
I can sleep through all sorts of alarms.

That's one of the reasons why
Greg wanted to come here...

he thought the countryside
would be safe and quiet.

I mean, look at what's happened.

Debbie, Oliver and now Greg.

It must be very distressing.

Only a couple of days ago,
I had someone creeping around,

looking through the window.

- When was this?
- The day after Debbie died.

- Can you describe them?
- It was a young man.

- I didn't really get a good look.
- And you didn't think to report it?

No, I'm sorry.

Do you think, if I had,
would Greg still be alive?

Oh, God.

If Greg Brantner had died,
protecting his property,

I would have expected signs of a struggle.

A fatal wound sustained from
the front, not the back.

I would have expected something to be missing.

The alarm went off because the killer
wanted to get Greg outside.

Another murder connected
to the dairy, actually at the dairy?

I think we should be talking to Jim Caxton.

Look at this.

Debbie Moffett, dead. Beatrix Ordish, widowed.

Hayley Brantner, widowed.

It's like they're being picked off and punished.

And then there's Helen Caxton.

Also widowed.

And pretty bitter about it.

This started with Debbie's death,
after a row at the school.

I want to know more about Sylvia
Mountford's establishment, Jones.

OK.

And dig deep.

Ah, John, I've had some information
back from my entomologist friend.

The maggots?

He's sure they're not indigenous to the area.

In fact, they're usually found in Sardinia.

- Italian maggots?
- Yes.

It's all a little bit Mafioso, don't you think?

Oliver Ordish sleeps with the fishes.

Well, I suppose they're easier
to clean up than a horse's head.

Thank you, Kate.

Oh, and... how is Sykes, this morning?

Er, on the mend.

That's good. I've seen quite a few dog
attacks, they can be pretty nasty.

I do hope you've reported the other dog.

See you later.

Sorry to do this in your lunch hour.

It's OK, if I can be of any help...

I'm supposed to be looking into a local school,
then I realised I already knew an expert.

I'm not sure I'd call myself an
expert, but fire away.

I've looked at all the official
information about Midsomer Pastures Prep,

but what I really need...

- Is the gossip?
- Yeah.

- Going somewhere?
- Away from here.

I thought this was your domain,
your precious cheeses.

Not any more. Greg's seen to that.

- And now someone's seen to Greg.
- Sorry?

I assume you know what this is.

Yeah, of course. I work with them every day.

They're pretty vicious-looking.

You know they're only designed
to go through cheese.

Not hearts?

Greg Brantner was found dead this morning.

Oh, my God.

Well, I haven't been back to the
dairy, I didn't know, I...

I just wanna make cheese.

We've had a lot of their kids

bounced over to us at Causton
Comp, after being excluded.

You get Sylvia Mountford's rejects?

Except I wouldn't call them that.

No, no, of course not.

It's not out of political correctness, Ben.

I expected problem kids, but they all
have fairly easy-to-solve problems.

A little bit of extra help in maths or science,

maybe a little extra literacy work
to help them catch up,

but certainly not the behavioural issues
that would usually lead to an expulsion.

And I would imagine expelling a kid
has a pretty negative effect.

Usually, but a lot of these kids seem
glad to get away from the place.

Why?

I don't know. I mean, I suppose it's
a high-pressure environment.

It would have to be to maintain those grades.

I wondered if we should talk.

I didn't think you'd be doing dairy
business today, of all days.

I'm not, I just...

I think it's time, Helen.

I brought you this.

Sorry, I shouldn't have.

Beggars can't be choosers.

All donations gratefully received.

Go on, then.

I just... wanted to say sorry. For what?

For not getting in touch...
when I heard about Phil.

My dad called me as soon as he heard.

Yeah, well, your dad was a decent bloke.

I can't say the same about your late husband.

I'm sorry about the farm...

and the contract.

When I get everything sorted,
I'll see what I can do...

but, at the moment, it's all so hard.

But, then, I don't have to tell you that.

What, you want the 'welcome
to the widows' club' talk?

Maybe.

Or maybe I just think there are other
things we should get off our chests.

- I don't know what you're talking about.
- Oh, come on, Helen.

You know what went on.

Debbie's gone, there is no
need to be scared any more.

That's what this is about?

Ancient bloody history?

It's something I need to do.

Well, guess what? If I've learned one
thing since we were at school together,

it's that you don't always get what you need.

Instead, you get a husband who
doesn't give a damn about you,

so much so, he kills himself and
leaves you up to your eyes in debt.

That's when you need your friends, but
they don't come anywhere near you,

because being around you reminds them
of sad things, like overdoses and suicide.

So you need a distraction,

something to keep you so tired you
don't have the energy to even think.

- Something like a crappy dairy farm.
- Helen, I told you, I'm...

Shut up, Hayley!

Then someone will come round and
take that away from you as well,

and then they have the brass neck to
come round to your crappy little farm

and tell you what they need.

Maybe it was a mistake, me coming here.

You think?

This is a pleasant surprise.

Thank you for seeing me.

However, I do believe I gave a full account
of myself to your superior officer.

Actually, I wanted to talk about your school.

You must be very proud of your
educational achievements.

Proud, but not complacent.
There's always room for improvement.

Well, you could look at your high
expulsion rate, for a start.

17 children in the last three years alone.

Obviously, that's not something
we're happy about.

I'm sure it's just a coincidence,

but they were all children with
a free place at your school.

I'm not sure what you're suggesting.

Highest school fees in the area,

yet you have to give away that expensive
education for free to those damn dairy brats.

Well, it's a long time since I've
heard that expression.

I have no issue with these children.

Really?

I'll have you know that the chairwoman of my
council came to the school on a free place.

Beatrix Ordish?

She had a very challenging life.

And I'm extremely proud of what she's achieved.

Challenging, how?

There were obstacles.

I really don't think it's up to me to say.

I'd admire your discretion if I wasn't
investigating multiple murders, Miss Mountford.

Well, it...

It was after she'd left my school.

Yes?

She got involved with a boy and I'm led
to believe that nature took its course.

Go on, then.

Beatrix Ordish has an illegitimate son.

Jake Yapley.

When Poppy went missing, Beatrix told
us there was no other family.

He was brought up in Midsomer Pastures,

but he's been living with his father
in Scotland since September 2002.

In a minute.

He also has some convictions.

Criminal damage and threatening behaviour.

What for?

Animal rights protest at the
headquarters of Conglomerate Uni-Dairy.

Do you think he's a suspect?

I didn't, until I saw this.

It's based on a description Hayley
Brantner gave of her mystery stalker.

Speak to his father.

See if you can get an idea
of his recent whereabouts.

Yes, sir.

This better not be another false alarm.

Come on.

Jake Yapley's father hasn't seen him for weeks.

Sir?

Helen?

Helen?

Helen! Wake up!

- Phil?
- No, it's Jim.

Ah, that's good. I'm glad it's you.

Are you? What's the matter?

It should've been you from the start.

You can't lie here. We've got to get you up.

- You can't stay here.
- I love you, Jim.

I love you too.

No, no, get back. Go on!

Get... Get back!

A nasty accident?

I don't think so.

Helen Caxton sustained head injuries that are
not consistent with her ultimate death by cow

but are, however, consistent with this shovel.

I found traces of blood on it.

I'll get it tested, but I'll be happy for
you to assume it's Helen Caxton's blood.

Come and have a look at this.

One of the boys smelled something odd
coming from the back of Jim Caxton's van.

Oh, what is that?

I believe that is casu marzu,

- a Sardinian delicacy.
- Even in that state?

They use the maggots as part of the
maturing process.

They liquefy the cheese to intensify the flavour.

It doesn't explain why he's got a vanload of it.

Casu marzu is illegal to import and export,
which makes this a highly sought-after product.

Is that why he's been so evasive?

He's dealing in illegal cheese?

Jim had the expertise, Helen had the
milk and the money problems.

So are we caught up in some
sort of cheese turf war?

Nothing to do with cheese.

The maggots on Oliver Ordish's
corpse were put there deliberately

to throw suspicion onto Helen Caxton.

Another girl from that
photograph was being punished.

There's only Beatrix and Hayley left.

Well, let's talk to them,

then, and to the woman who knows
how to push their buttons.

Thank you for coming, Beatrix.

- You heard about Helen?
- Of course, it's terrible.

I agree, the whole thing is terrible.

I think it's high time it was stopped.

Won't you come in?

Beatrix.

Hayley.

Well, I think we can all agree that
things have got a little out of hand

over the past few days.

I'm not sure what that has to do with me.

- Or me.
- Oh, girls.

You forget I know you better
than you know yourselves.

This whole chaos has your
names stamped all over it.

Need I remind you that I've just lost my husband?

So have I.

Oh, a corrupt philanderer

and a domineering dolt who cares more
for sour milk than he did his wife.

Am I wrong?

Perhaps whoever killed them
was doing us a good turn.

Perhaps you did. I don't know
why you're looking at me.

Well, I think we all know what
you're capable of, Beatrix.

After all, you sent your own son away.

- Don't you dare start with...
- That's enough!

I became tired of you two trading accusation

and counter-accusation in this office

a long time ago.

I have no desire to revisit the past.

It's not going to be a problem, Miss Mountford.

I'm leaving Midsomer Pastures.

And, this time, it's for good.

I can't help feeling that that's for the best.

I really don't give a damn
what you think, either of you.

That's one thing sorted out.

Is there anything else that needs tackling?

I don't think so.

No other historical issues?

No, Miss Mountford.

I'm pleased to hear it.

- Hi, Poppy.
- Hello.

- Is your mummy home?
- No.

- You're not on your own, are you?
- Emily's baby-sitting,

even though I'm not a baby.

Do you know when she'll be back?

She was supposed to be back ages ago.

- Is she late?
- Really late.

Emily's really annoyed.

She was supposed to be going to the
pictures with her boyfriend,

now she's taking it out on me.

She made me eat my yogurt, even
though I told her I was a vegan now,

because of the baby cows..

- Could you arrest her for that?
- I don't think so.

My brother says meat is murder.

Your brother? Jake?

Poppy, when was the last time you saw him?

No, there's no sign of Hayley Brantner either.

Did Poppy say what Jake's been doing here?

She wasn't very clear, but I
think he's been living rough.

I think he's been back in
the village for a while.

I wouldn't know where to start looking for him.

Help! Help!

- Jake!
- Help! She needs an ambulance.

I'll call you back. Jake's here with Beatrix.

Jones?

What's going on? Jones?

The ambulance is on its way.

What happened?

We were at the school.

Hayley and Miss Mountford.

She should never have come back.

Who? Hayley?

We got rid of her.

Miss Mountford didn't want her
here... like the others.

The things we did...

I need to make a call.

Stay with her.

You're gonna be all right. I should go.

No, please stay.

You let Oliver send me away.

I'm so sorry.

Jake, please.

You don't look very well, Miss Mountford.

Was there something unpleasant in your tea?

Here, let me help you.

She was at the school with
Hayley and Miss Mountford.

I think she's been drugged, or poisoned.

Hayley's nowhere to be seen.

Beatrix said Miss Mountford didn't
want Hayley around.

They forced her out and I think they
did that to a lot of children.

I think Sylvia Mountford is about to
become a victim of her own success.

I'll meet you there.

OK.

It's a long time since I've been in here.
I hated science.

That was the only class we were
all in together. All four of us.

- It's a long time ago.
- That's what everyone keeps saying,

as if I don't have to live with it every day.

Like it doesn't affect everything I do,

everything I think.

Well, I didn't know.

Liar!

You knew, you just didn't care.

They were useful to you, your
little troop of bullies.

- Just like your damn Parents' Council.
- Standards must be maintained.

I never lived up to your standards, did I?

That's why you let them make my
life a bloody misery, every day,

until I couldn't bear it any longer

and then you calmly suggested to my
father that I'd be happier elsewhere.

Made it sound all my fault, like I asked for it.

Always the victim. Nothing changes.

Well, things are going to change,
Miss Mountford, especially for you.

You were the one who found me in here, remember?

I begged them, anything but that.

I couldn't stand small spaces, they
made me feel like I couldn't breathe,

like the air was running out and
choking me. Can you imagine that?

Oh, it's OK. You don't have to imagine.

- Where's Sylvia Mountford?
- You'll never find her.

- Even if you do, it'll be too late.
- Tell me where she is.

Miss Mountford.

Miss Mountford?

Miss Mountford!

So... you think you've won.
Everybody got what they deserved.

- You don't know what they did.
- I've met your type before.

Excuses for everything.
Every little failure in your...

- Oh, shut up!
- And all because it's so much easier

to blame someone else for your
own weaknesses, isn't it?

No.

It was their fault.
Their choice and so they had to pay.

- You'd all grown up.
- Debbie, lording it over me?

Keeping secrets from me with my husband?

No!

Beatrix still thinking she was so
much better than me?

And Helen?

If she'd just found it in herself to say sorry...

Nothing had changed...

except me.

I don't let people push me
around any more, like Greg.

Six months and no more.

I didn't want to be here.

You were never wanted here,
especially not by Miss Mountford.

She told me she'd given
everything to this school.

Now she really has.

Really? And do you think
that you can win this time?

You weren't quite bright enough back then to
keep her school at the top of the league tables

- and I don't think anything's changed.
- I've changed.

I'm the one in charge now.

Yes.

You've got your own back,
you've put her in her place.

Yes, where she belongs.

Not me.

I don't let people put me
in places I don't want to be.

Not any more.

Is that what the girls did, Hayley?

They put you in some place you didn't want to be?

I begged them not to put me in there.
They did it anyway.

They knew I didn't like the dark.

- And that smell...
- What smell? What was it?

Like rotten egg.

Sulphur. Science.

Was it in a science lab?

It's too late now.

- Get her outside!
- Yes, sir.

Miss Mountford!

Miss Mountford?

Miss Mount...

I'll take her back.

Well done, sir.

Thank you, Inspector.
I thought it was all over for me.

It is. I hope it was all
worth it, Miss Mountford.

- Has she been read her rights?
- Yes, sir.

Anyone for cheese?
Guaranteed free of foreign bodies.

- I think I'll give it a miss.
- It looks good to me.

This has been the perfect evening.

And it's not quite over yet.

- We said we weren't doing presents.
- I can always take it back.

Oh, John.

Oh, it's beautiful.

Thank you.

He's a remarkably fast healer, isn't he?

Sykes. There isn't a mark on him.

What happened?

So how did you find out?

Kate changed his bandages.

I think it was a ploy to keep Sykes close to him.

In a way, you know, this was all your fault.

How?

I picked up the ring during my lunch hour.

Yeah?

So, I was admiring the ring in one hand,

and I had my sandwich in the other hand,

- and Sykes at my feet.
- How was that my fault?

Because that was the moment when you phoned me up

and, somehow, in the confusion,

I fed the rest of my sandwich
and the ring to the dog.

We're not that off-duty, Jones.

Sorry. Look, nature took its
course, there's no harm done.

And no-one need ever be any the wiser.

OK.