All language subtitles for Dalziel & Pascoe S02E01 Ruling Passion.TVRip.Divx5.English

Good shot, Colin.
Well, aren't you the country gent!

All part of his camouflage.
Who's next?

Timmo.
Still pulling, Carlo? Of course.

Take that in your right hand. I'm
left-handed. One cartridge. In here,
into the muscle. Ooh, it tickles!

Don't excite him. He'll kill us all!
I'm nipping to the pub, OK? Why?

We forgot Carlo's Scotch.
Oh, don't worry.
No, I won't be a minute. Darling...

Casserole, ten minutes.
Take it out. Right. OK, Colin?

OK, stand back. Ready! And pull!

Good shot, Timmo!

..Pull!

Pull!

Evening, Rose, you look good.

Overdressed. We've got friends up
and Colin forgot whisky.
Is there one called Professors?

Teachers.

I'll put it on the slate -
just don't go to Jimmy Riddle's.

I nearly did. Then I remembered
the snob had banned us.

Colin, if you have forgotten my...

Right, then. Let's welcome the new
boy. Police Cadet Singh, innit?

Yes, sir. I want you to know we're
a warm, loving, happy team here.

We laugh when we like, cry when we
like. Belch and fart when we like.
Just one thing we don't do -

go home early on the night of
a Big Op. Do we, Sergeant Pascoe?
No, sir. But this is a minor case.

Not worth giving up supping time
for? It was an antiques burglary.

With the ten we've got so far,
that's how many? Eleven, sir.

Good. No, thank you.

So, if you're all wondering why
I'm keeping you late on a Friday,

my concern is twofold.

How many folds, Singh? Two, sir.
Give them the tea.

One - eleven burglaries
stops being a nuisance
and starts being a serious crime.

Two - this bugger's violent. He hit
an elderly gardener over the head.

He WAS wearing a crash helmet
at the time.

If he hadn't just hopped off his
moped, he'd be dead, and this'd be
a murder inquiry. True, Sgt Pascoe?

What we're up to is what your
university sods call "preventive
policing". Preventative policing.

May I make a phone call, sir?
Aye, go on. Better than standing
looking bored stiff.

..Right.

Hello.

Oh, it's you, Watson.

What's happened?

Oh, never mind.

I told Rose we wouldn't make dinner.
How about breakfast? ..Tell the fat
man he's ruined a lovely weekend.

Note the common factor. Every one
of these burglaries happened
when the occupiers were on holiday.

Suggesting what
to the trained mind? Singh? Close
observation of the premises, sir.

Or inside information. Welcome back,
sunshine. I hear you're withholding
something vital. What's that, sir?

When our burglar visited
Mrs Cottingley's, he left behind
some crucial evidence.

He micturated in a kitchen utensil.
What? Urinated in the kettle.

Must be a damn good shot!

It wasn't through the spout, sir.
I've sent it for analysis.

Good. Because now we know
exactly who we're looking for -
the Wetherton Micturater.

Oh, beautiful.

Some things are worth
being woken up for.

Yes, hang on till the next lay-by.
That's how I got into this mess!

You look glowing. Fat and glowing!

Oh, I need a quiet weekend in the
country. Thornton Lacey. This is it.

Just in time for breakfast.

Same old Colin.

Old jokes are the best.

I sniff bacon and fried bread.
I'm starving.

And so's he... or she.

Nothing. Maybe they're not up yet.

The door's open. Go in.

Hello?

Hello!

They're probably still in bed.

Oh, food!

Come on, aren't you up yet?

What a cheek, Derek Backhouse,
calling on the morning
of a big match.

Yeah... Sergeant Pascoe.
He's one of mine.

What's he been doing? Exposing
himself on the street again?

'He promised not to!'
You never change, do you, Andy?

Come on, love. Come inside.

No, I can't breathe in there.

Bugger me. I didn't know Pascoe had
enough friends left to spare three.

He says he would've arrived last
night but you kept him late. 'True.'

And I want him back here sharpish.

Rose... And Timmo and Carlo.

They're all dead? Yep.

Colin! What happened to Colin?

I don't know, love.

You must find him, Pete.

He's got to be told.

I'm sorry, Sergeant. I wonder
if you answer to the name "Sunbeam".

Oh, there you are, Sunbeam.

How's Ellie?

Well,
she's got more feelings than you.

Listen, don't you know you're not
allowed to look for extra murders?

'Now, hark to this. This is
Boghouse's problem, not yours.
Make your statement and leave.'

I know the victims are friends,
but don't get personally involved.
Golden rule of policing.

'Boghouse isn't soft. He'll drop you
right in it, if he has to.'

They're not all like me, you know.

That's all, Sergeant, except...

take care of yourself.

'You'll make a good policeman
one of these days.'
HANGS UP

Morning, Hamblyn. Any news?
There's a call out on the blue Jeep.

We're searching for the weapon
over there, trying to find witnesses
and looking for a Colin Hopkins.

Blue Jeep, sir? Mrs Hopkins's.
She used it to go to the Farmers
for more Scotch.

Were they heavy drinkers? No,
but it was a celebration. Colin
had just finished his new book.

Open the gate, please.
You're on my land. And those are
my coverts you're trampling on!

Sir, who are you?
Angus Pelman. Are these men yours?

Three people were shot dead
last night at Brook Cottage.
- My Lord! The Hopkinses?

I own that place! Who's shot?
Mrs Hopkins and two friends from
London. Damn me! What about Colin?

We're looking for him. Did you pass
here last night? I did, yes.

Parish Council meeting. Started
7.30, finished... when, Marianne?

Oh, um... 10.15?

Mrs Culpepper's
the Parish Council secretary.

Did you see
a blue Jeep parked outside?
Saw it coming down, not going back.

..Let him through, Hamblyn.

You found Rose Hopkins by
the sundial. Forensic have confirmed
that this is where she was shot.

We think it was just after eight,
not many minutes after she left
the pub. Why?

Cap from a fresh bottle.
Seal's unbroken. It exploded...

when the pellets hit her.

"Horas non numero nisi serenas."
I number only the happy hours.

If this were your case, what's
the first question you'd ask?

Why would Colin kill his wife and
friends? But I can't believe that.

With murderers, a common point is
that their close friends say

that they're incapable of it.
Coroner's here.

Sorry I took so long.
I was on the golf course.
I was playing with Hartley here.

Hartley Culpepper.
My house is just down the road.

I'd like to get the inquest over
quickly. In villages rumours start
flying about everywhere.

Peter Pascoe.

Oh, you found them. Dreadful.
What happens to you now?

My wife's in shock but we're needed
as witnesses. Is there an inn?

Two,
but one of them doesn't take guests.

Come and stay with us.

We were going to have you all over,
anyway. My wife would be delighted.
I've met her. Oh? With Mr Pelman.

Anyway, we'd be glad to accept.
Good.

Aye aye. Who's Man Of The Match?

Wanted - Colin Hopkins.
Thought armed and dangerous.
Is that Sergeant Pascoe's friend?

Yeah. Silly pillock.
Sergeant Pascoe?

No, Superintendent Boghouse.
Jumping the gun, that is.

Anyway, get your kecks on.
We're going out.

The tranquillity was shattered
as villagers woke to the news
of a triple murder.

Last night, three friends
were confronted by an armed killer.

Police are anxious for
a fourth friend, Mr Colin Hopkins...

One whisky chaser.
Thank you, Sam. Right...

Yes, sir? Um...

Pint of bitter, please.

Did you serve Mrs Hopkins
last night?

Press, are you? No, I was a friend.

I found them. I can't believe it.
Really nice people.

They come in here often? Lately,
yes. They got fed up with the Angel.

Landlord by the name of Major
James Riddell. Or Jimmy Riddle.

They found this more friendly.
What happened?

Rose came in just before eight
for some Scotch.

Hardly here a minute. Doesn't seem
possible in Thornton Lacey. Such a
quiet place, it used to be. Not now?

Changed completely
since the motorway.
Only 90 minutes from the smoke now.

More squires than peasants now.

Oh, Marianne.

You did remember
the parish minutes, my dear?

Angus, I never forget anything.
You know that.

Right! Freddie, Fenton...!

Drinkies! Come on! Chop chop!

Dreadful. Complete tragedy.
Just follow the dogs, Marianne.

Victims too.
Of course, of course.
Major. Hello, sir.

Boring bloody meeting, eh?

It brings the village together,
Angus. Oops!

Well, it brings US together! Haven't
harmed your beautiful head, have I?

I've always tried to keep up
standards here, but all I got
was abuse from those two.

I've heard
that Hopkins was a troublemaker.

Atrocious temper!
As for his wife, well...

No gentleman could repeat
what she'd come out with!
So you're a psychiatrist?!

- Who are YOU, another madman?
- I say, isn't this exciting

OK, Sergeant Pascoe. That'll do.
We don't use Dalziel tactics here.

Sit down. I'll get you a drink.
No, sir. This is MY hotel
and this gentleman is barred.

A warning - don't enter this place
again. Didn't know you were on duty.
I wasn't. I was eavesdropping.

Riddell was blabbing to the press.
That man was a reporter.
For Harpers And Queen Sorry.

Riddell was about to explain
why he kicked out your friends.

Hello, darlings. Coppers? I thought
we were being a tad peelerish.

You were getting on well with Major
Riddell, Mr...? Yes, wasn't I?

Davenant, Anton Davenant.

I do features for gourmet magazines.

When you were at school,
did they teach you to be kind
to little old ladies,

or was it Wetherton Comprehensive?

Remember, we've got nowt.
Only a modus operandi.

You, er,
you speak Latin, I take it?

No, sir. Is that the same as an MO?

Not quite. Almost.

One - nice house in the country.

A bit secluded.
Two - owners away on holiday.
The gardener wasn't.

No, but the weather changed, so he
came inside and watered the plants.

Three - the loot's usually the same.
Small antiques and collectables -
hard to trace. Cooee! Mr Dalziel!

Four -
the owners are generally batty.

How's the gardener? Oh,
he'll be all right. His crash helmet
was ruined. Fortunate he was here.

It wasn't for him! They might've
taken even more of my stuff!

Take Butch. I'll make us a cuppa.
Take Butch, Singh.

Butch, sir?
That stinking lump of hair.

Oh, why don't we just go?

Be nice to have a bed for the night,
but this isn't my scene. I hate it.

Hello... Mrs Pascoe?
Yes.

There we go.
Thank you.

Welcome to Lacey Manor. If there's
anything we can do to help you...

I think what we most need
is a rest.
My wife... About time!

..I saw you at Brook Cottage
this morning. Marianne Culpepper.

Peter Pascoe.
I saw you at the Angel.
With Angus Pelman. So, Hartley?

I invited the Pascoes to spend
the night. Instead of Brook Cottage.

Darling, we've got our wires crossed
again. I've got people coming
for supper.

I know. Why don't you two
slip upstairs before the fun starts
and I'll pop your supper on a tray?

Honestly!
Who'd want my little collectables?!

Where did you keep your little
collectables? In the china cabinet.

What was taken?

Stones.

Precious stones?
Well, not exactly precious.

Oh, aye? Just stones? They were
very nice Yorkshire stones.

Mr Dalziel, I can see why
this thief would take my collection,
but why... wee-wee in my kettle?

Maybe the excitement. Who knew you
were going away? Only the gardener.

I was staying with my sister. It was
sudden. She slipped on a cream bun
and broke her ankle.

Thanks, Mrs Cottingley. I promise
you we'll leave no stone unturned.

You all right, then?

Bet you're wondering who the little
man with Hartley Culpepper is?

Moves in top circles, eh? What does
he do? Hartley? Public relations.

One of the big fish.
Nordrill, I think.

It is. Oil and drilling. We make
holes in the bottom of the sea.

And in the bottom of the Cotswolds?

No. I work in London
and I love Oxfordshire.
- Easy spin down the M40, isn't it?

Freddie, Fenton, stay! Good dogs.

Oh, dear,
you've started without me!

Evening, my dear!
You look absolutely blooming!

Angus Pelman, Lord Of Our Manor!

He and Mrs Culpepper wouldn't
happen to be a number, would they?

A publican has to be
the soul of discretion.

You OK?

Brought you some supper. I don't
think so. I still feel dreadful.
Come on, you've got to eat.

What's been keeping you down there
with that lot? It's a case.

Not YOUR case. Not YOUR patch.
Nothing YOU can do.

I didn't know
there was a swinging party going on.

I'll come back another time.

You're a friend of the Culpeppers,
as well? Met them at artistic do's
in London. He collects, you know.

Just thought I might look them up.

And Colin... Hopkins?
You know him too?

Oh... Yes, I met him through Timmo.
Timmo Mansfield?

Two of a kind.
Are you sure you're a journalist?

Yes, darling. Back of the paper -
eaties, drinkies, general goodies...

I can't bear crime. It attracts
the worst kind of reporter.

Yet you interviewed Jimmy Riddle.
To find out what happened. Would you
call Colin a raving Marxist?

No, I wouldn't. Nor would I.
That's what Riddell called him.
A dire phrase in HIS insult book.

What made them fall out?

Mmm. My question exactly.

Apparently, there was a row
in the Sportsman's bar.
Riddell's a classic snob.

One night, he refuses some kids
in bikers' gear. Rose complains,

tells him he's a tight arse.
He calls her a bitch.

Colin tips his drink over him.

There. Sounds like fun to me.
It doesn't explain a triple murder.

..No.

Care for a drink at the Angel?
Time I went back in, Mr Davenant.
Suit yourself, old darling.

Come in.

..Was anyone there?

A Mr Davenant was in your grounds.

Friend of Marianne's. Whisky?

Thank you.

Very interesting room, Mr Culpepper.

I'm glad you like it.
D'you care for porcelain?
I don't know enough about it.

Have you got it all
properly insured? Oh, yes, yes.

But, you see, it doesn't have
a price. Not to me. Just a value.
It's irreplaceable.

The fascination's in the collecting.
I've liked it since I was a boy.

A relief after a day
in the corridors of power?

There, nothing has a value
and everything has a price.

Known the Hopkinses long?
Since they moved here
a few months ago. Nice couple.

D'you know anyone who maybe hated
them? Apart from JR? No, but you
have the wrong idea about villages.

These days, they're not cut off.
They're part of a bigger world.

Colin spent half his time in London.
He might've made a few enemies.

He had quite a temper. But you'd
know that if you were friends.

'Voice from the grave.
Or, indeed, from the underworld.'

From which I'll lead you back
into the land of the living.

Stay next weekend.
Come and stay next weekend.

Friday night.

Fun starts at dinner.
Be there.

My Eloisa and Abelard.

Peter...!

Peter?

Hello, hearts. Is this where they're
holding the inquest thing?
Move along, sir.

..and police continue looking for
the blue Jeep and the fourth friend,

who may be armed and dangerous.

We have heard all three deceased

were killed by a 12-bore shotgun.

We must of course await
the pathologist's report.

But there is also
a common time of death -

between 8pm and 11pm.

I express my sympathy to Mr Pascoe

and, I presume, Mrs Pascoe,
who found the tragic victims.

We have heard that
police anticipate an early arrest

and wish them every success
with their enquiries.

In the meantime,
I adjourn this inquest sine die.

What are you doing here?
Are you OK? Nearly.

Early arrest? What do they mean?
Colin.

What have you told them? Nothing!

You don't think Colin's
really a suspect? Suspect or not,
we want him found, don't we?

If Dalziel had let us come Friday
night, this wouldn't have happened!
No, it could've happened to us too!

Excuse me, can you give Sgt Crowther
some statements? I'll look after
your wife. Well, what's it to be -

a short, bumpy car ride
or a stroll through the village?

We go back a long way. Three couples
at university together. None of us
knew where we were heading.

Then Colin and Rose married.
Happily?
I always thought so.

Then Carlo went to do a PhD
in Glasgow. Timmo became a Eurocrat
in Brussels. I became a lecturer.

Pete put on the helmet of salvation.

Sorry?
Became a copper.
But I married him in spite of it!

And this weekend,
you all arranged to meet up?

A month ago, I'd arranged to see
Colin in London. He's a journalist.
I'm trying to be a novelist.

Thought I might get some help.
With a book?

Excuse me! Thank you!

Sergeant Crowther.

Oh... Are you a policeman?

You'll do. My sister and I
keep the post office. She runs
the counter and I deliver letters.

You know how it is in a village -

we're not too official.
So, if letters come for the village,
we just take them.

It was the usual Colin. Instead of
MY book, we talked about HIS -

Poverty In The '90s: Executive
Unemployment And White Collar Debt.

I said he was crazy
doing it in the Cotswolds.
He said I didn't know the half.

When I heard the awful news,
I thought this might be important -
a letter from Mr Hopkins.

It wasn't Royal Mail -
he just handed it in. I thought
Sgt Crowther ought to see it.

Quite right. I'll take that.
- I'll get that typed up
and circulated, Mrs Pascoe.

Take this, sir,
before it gets into the wrong hands.

Mr Pascoe, thank you for your
patience. Have a safe journey home.

'Damaged perforations.'

I'd recognise these stamps anywhere.

Superintendent's busy.
Oh, maybe Sgt Pascoe could help you.

This is Mr Sturgeon,
one of the burglary victims.

A friend of mine bought these and,
as I'm an expert, showed me them.
I knew them right off.

They're mine. Very nice.
Where did your friend find them?
Birkham, on the moors.

Lovely up there, in't it?
- Aye, gradely. It was an antique
shop, Etherege and Burne-Jones.

OK, we'll keep them for enquiries
and give you a receipt.
Another thing, Sergeant.

Could you see if the Scottish police
know this chap? Archie Selkirk.
Strath Farm, Lochart, Inverness.

What about him? Who he is,
where he's got to...
I'm sorry, Mr Sturgeon.

We're not an information bureau.
Busy enough as it is.

All right. Please yourself.
Thanks, anyway.

Poor old beggar. Used to have
a timber supply business
up Ormiston Road.

Sold up and retired two years ago.
But he's a real Yorkshire tyke -
just can't settle.

Not a lot to do with yourself,
is there, when your job's gone?
He isn't the only one. True enough.

Hi, it's me. How are you?

Yeah, I know.

Cancel the lecture
if you feel too bad.

How about lunch in Birkham?

One o'clock?
Yeah, I'm going to be up that way.

Right. Love you.

Yeah, OK. Bye. D'you mind
not talking to your doxy when
I'm staring at you? Sorry, sir.

Was there something? Aye. Get your
boots on. Your Micturater's been at
it again, only he was interrupted.

We've got a witness?
No, we've got a corpse.

Name's Matthew Lewis.

He was an estate agent. But
that's not ours to judge, is it?
You OK, sir? Of course I am.

You don't look
all that good to me yourself.

What makes you so sure it was
the Micturater? You can sniff it.

Collector. Staffordshire pots
or something. Off on holiday.

Nice house in the country.
Big grounds...

It's a bungalow, sir, in suburbia.

You always were
a stickler for detail, weren't you?

OK, Wieldy, who did it?
Where is he, and what have you put
in his confession? Morning, sir.

He's from Lewis and Cowley, Estate
Agents. "Simply the best"? Yeah.
He and his wife were in Scotland.

He drove down on Friday night
for a meeting with his partner.

He didn't return, so she came back,
found him battered to death. The
body's in here. Where's Mrs Lewis?

Staying with a neighbour.
Very upset. Couldn't tell us much.

'Lewis? Where are you?

'I want you to call me.

Probably happened Saturday afternoon,
about 24 hours before his wife
found him. What was taken?

Quite good stuff, insured for
ã25,000, according to Mrs Lewis.

What was in here?
Silverware, including
a snooker trophy. Pure Micturater.

No, there's a difference
between peeing in a kettle
and beating a man to death.

They both leave a foul mess
to clear up.

What's your theory, sunshine? An
estate agent... Disgruntled client?

Got gazumped once, did you?
The answerphone. Someone was
after him. No sign of a struggle.

So maybe he knew his attacker.
Or the Micturater was in the house
already... jumped him from behind.

Could that be it, Doctor? Could be.
Andy,

I don't like that cough.
Sorry, it's the only one I've got.
Look, you're coughing too much.

It's time we had a proper look at
you. My surgery, tomorrow morning.
I won't take no for an answer.

Yes, Doctor.

Well, don't just stand there.
Check out that estate agents'.

Sorry, bad time. My partner's death
has left me with a load of problems.

Us, too. This is a murder inquiry.
I'm Detective Sergeant Pascoe.

John Cowley, Matt's partner.

Is all this necessary? I thought
Matt was killed by a burglar.

We like to check everything.

You don't seem to have
many deceptively large properties
on offer. You mean houses?

No, we specialise
in business packages - commercial
premises, landed estates...

If it's a desirable semi you want,
you go elsewhere.

Was it a business package that
made Mr Lewis return from Scotland?
Who said that? Mrs Lewis.

Said he had an urgent meeting.
Urgent? Well, he drove down
overnight. No, that's pure Matt.

All action. A real mover and shaker.

This meeting, it was you,
Mr Lewis and...? And no-one.

So, it couldn't be done by phone
or fax? Matt was very hands-on.

Look, he'd go between Wetherton and
Scotland ten, twelve times a year.

He just wanted to check out
his bottom line.

Why did he go back home? No idea.
To get papers, feed the dog...?
Meet a client? I wouldn't know.

We were business partners,
not bosom mates.

His cottage in Scotland,
where is it? In the glens.

Somewhere near Inverness.
Lochart? Don't remember.
Never been to Scotland.

No, don't tell me. The fat man asked
you to clean his boots, so you did?
The man thinks he possesses you.

No, Ellie.
Another body, another murder.

Why did I ever marry a policeman?

Why not go home and relax? We don't
just have you to think about.
Don't mollycoddle me!

Why don't we go
into this antiques place,
buy something to cheer you up? OK.

Anyway... you all right?

No, I'm not,
but I staggered through my lecture.
Students must think I'm crazy.

Any news of Colin? Nothing.
He's well and truly disappeared.

I rang Rose's parents.
Her body's been released. Funeral's
on Thursday and you're coming...

whether the big slob
likes it or not.

Hello?

Oh, hello.
D'you mind if we look around?

Please, be my guest.
Thanks.

I didn't know you liked stamps.
Don't know much about me, do you?

Wouldn't happen to be working, hmm?

How could I be?

..These are nice?

All good local work.
Very local. Me. Always keep
your neighbourhood craftsman happy.

And rich! 20% off to test your
sincerity. The gentleman will pay.

Thanks... See you later. See you.

Cheers

So, you're Burne-Jones?

Nearly. Jonathan Etherege.

Seen these before? Scraps of paper
to me. My partner deals with stamps.

I think he hangs around
school playgrounds doing swopsies.

Can I speak to him?
He's in Corsica on holiday.

I suppose you've seen lists
like these before.

Stolen goods? Bill, are you?

We try to check
where all our stuff comes from, but
you know how it is with antiques.

Staffordshire pot dogs?
We're mainly furniture.

They're collectables.
Take anything you like to check it.
Very cooperative of you. No...

Nothing's worth more than a few quid.

Come on... Come on, this way.

We'll check their ID.
Jonathan. Then I'll return them.

Good. Bring the young lady.
Might make a sale.

There you are, sunshine.
Bought you a pint. Very kind, sir.

Thought you might need it.
Call from your friend Boghouse -
picked up a bloke in Nottingham.

Colin Hopkins?
That's the general idea.

Sorry, son. I'm not sure what for,
but I'm sorry.

Now, let's do some work.

Talk to Lewis's partner?

Yeah,
the age of the yuppie isn't dead.

Poncy bugger? Not the sort
you'd buy a used house from.
Not much help either.

Says Lewis came back for a meeting
that wasn't important. So it's back
to the disgruntled client theory?

Yes. We still don't know why
he went to the house.

Mrs Lewis says
when she left the house last week,
she unplugged the answerphone.

Lewis was annoyed
and went home to switch it on.

So, that call was made AFTER he
died. Screws up your client theory.

Leaves just two lines of enquiry -
the break-ins themselves

and the disposal of the loot,
which is quality stuff.

Our Micturater won't hang about
with it. How's he getting rid?

I checked the place where
the stamps turned up. Nothing.
Look, a chuffed policeman.

Why did the Micturater micturate in
the kettle? Defacement of premises.

Some lads get off on that stuff.
No, sir, not that.

Go on, have a go. Forensic checked
that kettle. Our lad has diabetes,
which causes frequent urination.

This stuff does the same.

Edgar, love,
can you bring back some cat food?

It's not cold, is it?
As a witch's tit.

Would you lie down on your back,
please?

While you're buggering about
down there, you could do something
useful. Tell me about diabetes.

Or wasn't it discovered when you
graduated? You've not got diabetes.

Good, but someone we wish to see
in the course of our enquiries has.
Roll over, will you? How d'you know?

He left behind
a kettle full of urine. What type?

I think it was a Swan.

Not the kettle!

There's three different types
of diabetes.

There's type A... Ow!

Type B... Ow! Type C.

Did you spend five years learning
the alphabet? And type AB. Ow!

Type A's the best known.

Makes you dependent
on insulin injections.
Symptoms are excessive thirst

and frequent urinating.
Right, you can sit up now. Oh...

What a gut you've got on you!

If you WERE to get diabetes,
you'd get type B.

That's better, is it?

Strikes at middle age,
victims are generally overweight.

Usually treated orally,
not by injection.

Can I put my knickers on now? Yeah.

What about AB? Stress diabetes.

People in their 30s and 40s
get it usually.

- It's like type B, only the victim's quite frequently underweight.
- That's a big help

All I need to find
is a thin man between 30 and 40,

- a fat man of 40 to 50, and a thin or fat man of any age Not quite.
- Oh?

Could be a woman... Right, now.

I've fixed you up for some X-rays
at the hospital.

I like to get in all the evidence
before I make a prognosis! Oh

What was he doing on the moor?
I've got to see him.

The old lad was so worried lately.
Worried about what?

Money, his investments,
what would become of me...

He was afraid of being poor again.

Something went amiss
over the weekend.
I've never seen him like it.

Besides, he never went there before.

You just rest there, Mrs Sturgeon.

Have you got a friend
who can come over?

M-Mavis...

I want to see Mavis.

What's that?
A plan for refighting the Gulf War?
Connections - Lewis and Sturgeon.

Both members of the Liberal Club.
One dead, one critical in hospital.
Liberal Club?

One of the few clubs I've not been
chucked out of. Mind you, that's
probably because I never joined it.

And then, Lochart, near Inverness.
Lewis had a cottage there and
Sturgeon knew about someone there.

A Mr Selkirk. We got
a phone number, the Lochart Hotel.

Selkirk stayed there twice,
about a month ago. Did he leave
an address? A London hotel.

So, we know he likes hotels.
Why not ask Sturgeon?

Too ill, sir. We checked his car.
It was mechanically sound.
I'm getting your drift, laddie.

You think Sturgeon did Lewis in...
for some unknown reason.

Then drove off the road. Well...

Suicide after murder
isn't uncommon.

I know. It's feasible, isn't it?

Never heard owt so daft in my life!
Lewis was burgled.

That connects his case with eleven
other victims. Including Sturgeon.
Here, give me that.

That's where you wanna be looking!

I've got to see the doctor. Have
a pint waiting for me in the Black
Bull later - assuming I'm spared!

Never mind. He's not himself.

Go on, then. Tell me the worst.

Worried, are we?
Bloody terrified, Doc.

Bet you've been running through
all the diseases known to man.

Well, you'll be glad to know
you've got none of them.

Am I here under false pretences?!
And I've put off coming to see you
for months!

Now, you're very far from perfect!

You drink, smoke and eat too much,
and you interrupt your doctor.

The bad news is,
if you don't take my advice,

in a year you'll be laid low by any
one of a dozen diseases - high blood
pressure, thrombosis, bronchitis...

Now,
I've got this diet sheet for you.

You need to lose at least a stone.

It's going to be tough...

..especially without alcohol
or nicotine.

You're a bloody sadist, Doctor.
Follow it closely. No excuses.

All right.

Now I've dedicated my body
to science, do something for me.
You're in the Liberal Club.

You don't want me to put you up,
do you? I'm not that sick! Buy me a
drink there tomorrow - a soft one.

You'll, eh,
send me the bill for all this lot?

Too bloody true! Hey, don't forget
this, and pay it quick. I don't want
to make a claim on your estate!

Would the congregation please rise
for the committal?

Having commended into the hands
of God our sister departed,

we now commit her body
to be cremated.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
putting our whole trust

in the mercy of our heavenly
father, and in the victory
of his son, Jesus Christ, our Lord,

who died, was buried
and rose again for us and is alive

and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

Amen.

Excuse me. Sir.

I heard you picked up Colin Hopkins
in Nottingham. Mistaken identity.

The man was a Romanian
on a false passport. So the case
is still wide open? Very much so.

Since you left Thornton, things have
been quiet, simmering. I'm amazed
there's so much to simmer.

Colin and Rose were only there
a few months. Long enough to make
at least one enemy. Riddell?

Your friend was a writer. Did you
know he was researching the village?

Yeah, for the book he was writing.
Turned out there was no Major
Riddell. A Sergeant Riddell, yes.

He's lucky that didn't reach print.
It was all in that letter
you tried to acquire.

Was your friend given to blackmail?

No, I'd say he saw himself
as a fearless journalist. Like
Mr Davenant. See you at the inquest.

Good to see you again, Mr Pascoe,
despite the sad occasion.

Congratulations on your wife -

an intellectual pearl in
the constabulary crown, I must say.

What was all that about?

He was asking about Colin.

Any news?

Still nothing.

I'm getting very afraid, Peter.

That Colin's dead?

That he did it.

What would any of us do...

if we were really pushed?

We don't know of anything
that would've pushed him.

Ellie...

How are you feeling then, Andy?
Never better. And I've
a doctor's note to prove it.

The thought of you knocking
the balls round our baize... Enough
to scare anybody into a confession!

I prefer rugby. It's dirtier. And
I'm no good with funny handshakes!

Heavens, it's true!
You weren't winding us up, Alan?

It's difficult to resist
a superintendent when he insists!

This is the man who thinks
Attila The Hun was a bit left-wing!

Cheers, Andy.
I don't believe it!
The lad's on the wagon!

A pound a point, is it?
So long as Andy doesn't
talk business and put me off.

I thought talking business
was what happened here.

Matthew Lewis, for instance.
Were he as sharp with money
as he was at this lark?

We're all sharp. Matt handled
some of the more unusual aspects
of property speculation.

So did the Church of England.
Aye, and we all know
what happened to them. Noolan,

you should know -
was Lewis in the black or the red?

I've a bank manager's secret oath
to keep. There must be a few cracks
in the old boy network.

Put it like this - whoever settles
that estate won't be paying out much.

Matt, like you, enjoyed the good
things in life - indiscriminately.

For him, wine, women and song.
For you, beer, cigarettes and rugby!
I only risk my body.

He risked his overdraft, as well.
Do any business with him, Jacko?

He tried to interest me in land up
in Scotland. Said they'd found oil.

Can't beat that, can you? You can!
The oil company was in trouble!

Conservationists were after them.
Last week, I saw they pulled out of
land-based exploration completely.

I take my risks nearer home,
where the heavy mob is.

I'll ignore that. Tell me about
Edgar Sturgeon. Oh, you'd like him.

If I ever have the chance.
He's on the critical list.
Aye, bad that. Self-made man.

Wife got him to retire.
But he couldn't sit and do nowt.

Is that why he looked at
Lewis's plans?

Lewis was always on at him
about it. We all tried
saying something, didn't we?

Lot of decent people go to the wall
these days. Bad times. Bloody bad
governments. I know. Vote Liberal.

Some kids were playing on the quarry
edge and found it. Dangerous spot.

Other incidents?
A boy drowned two summers back.
Body was never found.

Sir, there's a note.
It was on the passenger seat.

Nothing.
Looks like you were right, boss.

Still very ill.
A serious accident at his age...

I'm bringing best wishes from
the Liberal Club. Has he said owt?
Asked to see his wife.

Don't do anything to upset him.
Trust me, Nurse.

Mr Sturgeon...
Superintendent Dalziel.

I want
to try something out on you -

tell you a little story. You just
say if it's right or wrong, OK?

OK.

There once was a lad
called Sturgeon who put a bit aside
for a rainy day.

He met another fellow called Lewis,
who told him how to make a fortune.

Sturgeon trusted him because they
both belonged to the Liberal Club.

Lewis tells him there's oil in the
glens, near his cottage in Lochart.

The Nordrill Mining Company
found it. Sturgeon should come
and take a look.

So Sturgie goes to Scotland
and stays at the Lochart Hotel.

And who does he meet
but a Mr Archie Selkirk...

who has a farm to sell.

Am I wasting my breath?

So Sturgie decides
to gather his savings,

remortgage his house
and buy the farm.

Lewis gives him the best commercial
advice, as only an estate agent can.

But one day,
Sturgie hears bad news.

Nordrill isn't going to drill
in the glens, after all.

In the paper.

He tries to contact Lewis,

but he won't answer his calls.

He looks for Selkirk,

but nobody seems
ever to have heard of him.

And the police do sod all to help.

Everything's gone wrong for Sturgie.

So, one morning,
he goes to Mr Lewis's house.

He hits Mr Lewis over the head,

which makes him die.

He knows he's going to be caught.

So, he gets in his car
and drives off the road.

I didn't kill Lewis.
You drove your car off the road.

I lost all my money to... Selkirk.

All I'd got left was my...
life insurance.

Tell Mavis...

I did it for her.

Told you I'd never heard
owt so daft! He didn't kill Lewis.

Which company's
supposed to have found the oil?

Nordrill. D'you know, a butterfly
beating its wings in the Amazon
can cause a hurricane in China?

No, hum it for me. A multinational
pulls out of the glens
causing chaos in Middle England.

Keep singing.
I want to find Mr Selkirk.

Selkirk...

No, sorry, there's no such client.

While you're there, have a look
for a Mr Edgar Sturgeon.

These must be people
Matt dealt with privately.

We had our own personal clients.

..No, nothing on Sturgeon either.

Was Mr Lewis
in financial difficulties?

There's no need to be coy.
It'll all come out when the lawyers
start settling his estate.

He had a few problems
with his bottom line, yes.

My partner liked
to live a bit high off the hog.

And to get out of his difficulties,
he got involved in some dodgy
dealing. I know nothing about that.

Isn't that why he rushed home? No.
Don't think I killed him. I didn't.

His death has left me in serious
commercial trouble. Mr Cowley,

you told us
you'd never been to Scotland.

That's true.
Then, can you tell me what you were
doing the weekend of, um...? 17th.

August 17th. Yes,
that shouldn't be too difficult.

Yes...

I went to a rugby match.
Oh? Who was playing?

Wetherton V Pontefract.
Pontefract won.

42 to 3.
Well done. Spot on. Was there
a special reason for that question?

Didn't I say?
It was one of the weekends when...
Mr Archie Selkirk was in Lochart.

Oh, yes,
the man I've never heard of.

D'you think he was Archie Selkirk?
Course he was, the poncy bugger!

Any fool knows Pontefract
beat Wetherton. Lewis was straight.

Cowley played the dumb farmer,
unaware he had oil under his land.
Check his story till it cracks.

Yes, when I get back from Thornton
Lacey. You going on holiday again?

..Nice day for an inquest.

Mr Pascoe! Not coming?

No, I'm needed in the corridors of
power. Spend a lot of time there?

For my sins. This IS the London
train? Yeah. Safe journey.

Afternoon.

"Death, only death
can break the lasting chain

"And here, ev'n then
shall my cold dust remain

"Here, all its frailties
all its flames resign

"And wait till 'tis no sin
to mix with thine

"Present the cross
before my uplifted eye

"Teach me at once
and learn of me to die."

That's all, sir.

Thank you, Superintendent.

And that note was found
on the seat of the, er, Suzuki Jeep?

Yes, in Hopkins' writing.

What did you do when you found it?

Set up a frogman's search of
the quarry, but nothing was found.

It's deep. Bodies have disappeared
there before, haven't they?

They have.

Very well.

It seems to me that the intention
was quite explicit.

In the circumstances
there can be only one verdict.

In the matter
of the deaths of Mrs Hopkins,
Mr Mansfield and Mr Rushworth,

I find they were unlawfully killed.

As for Mr Hopkins,

I take it on presumption...

that he then took his own life...

..and left clear evidence
of that fact.

..In the latest on the Cotswold
killings, the coroner has accepted
that Colin Hopkins was the murderer.

Your woods are the problem,
Mr Pelman. The stream runs
through the village.

Somewhere there's pollution.
We need access to your coverts.
No! Private land! I quite agree!

Verdict as you expected, Sergeant?

It's what YOU expected, isn't it,
Superintendent?

It's a bit too clever.
From someone taking his own life?

And from someone not about
to take their own life? Possible.
Anyhow, police enquiries aren't over.

Can I give you a lift? Thank you.

That was extraordinary. You read
poetry very well, Superintendent.

I was wondering...

Was Mr Hopkins' book ever found?

No, the publishers expected it
that weekend but never received
the manuscript.

And it wasn't at Brook Cottage?
No, Mrs Culpepper.

Oh? Hmm... Thank you.

I'd like to take another look
at the cottage.
If it's OK with you, sir.

Sorry.

Don't whinge about this. The pub
would be heaving. And I'm a pregnant
woman, in case you hadn't noticed.

Two cream teas, please.

And a large slice of humble pie
- Thank you.

I like this place. Halfway
between Pete's work and mine.

I like meeting people halfway... But
I AM suspicious when my man's boss
rings when he's away for the night.

Shouldn't have gone, then.
That inquest's a waste of police
time. This'll be the verdict.

Murder and suicide by Colin Hopkins.
Colin could be alive. Alive or dead,
that note looks like a confession.

Dust it away, neat and tidy -
that's what any sensible copper
wants. Not Peter. He's too soft.

I've told him. Golden rule -
don't take it personally. He's a
different kind of copper from you!

He's got real compassion. And I've
not? Well, I've never seen any.

Take Sturgeon. Lost all his savings.
You should be finding him his money.
It's what you're paid for.

Sturgeon bought some land.
That's what HE paid for.

'90s Britain is one hell of a place
to be poor in! Oh, you're gonna be
a burden on the whole bloody force!

Listen,
I'll tell you something for nowt.

Here you are.

Thank you.

I'm a good policeman,
you won't find a better one.

But I've pissed behind
too many doors to get any further.

If your man toned down,
I could be "sir-ing" him soon.

Meaning he has to be more
like you Meaning there's a bad
outbreak of heart in the place.

Swellings of sympathy. You stick to
giving him his soldier's comforts
and let him do his job. Evening.

How d'you like your pendant?
- I like it very much, Mr Etherege.

Come and see my new stock,
bring your friend. Who the hell
are you? Jonathan Etherege.

From the Antiques Barn.
Always on the lookout for
a satisfied customer. I'm the same.

Right... Bye, then.
- Bye-bye.

Why did you phone me tonight?
Very nice, that.

I thought you'd like
to break the news. What news?

Pascoe's promotion's come through.

So now you can call him Inspector.

What? Nowt to do with me.
Blame the Chief Constable.

Well? Happy or sad? I don't know.

But I do know I better phone him.

Oh, and after that,

I'm going to buy you
a very large whisky.

Mr Backhouse thought you might
like a lift after all.
Very thoughtful of him.

Is this all Pelman's land
around here? Mostly.

Where's the stream Sam Dickson
mentioned? Below Brook Cottage.
He reckons it's contaminated.

But, then,
Mr Dickson's none too pure himself.

Sergeant Pascoe.

- Not any more, Inspector.
- Inspector? I don't believe it!

The truth, the whole truth, nothing
but the truth. Who said? The fat man.
What are you doing with him?

He'd hardly try
to get into my knickers!
I want a full account of...

Look, something's going on here...

Ellie?

Mr Davenant!
What are you doing here?
Good God!

Well, like most people,
I'm passing through.

I'm writing about a restaurant
nearby. Why not join me for dinner?

You know, "My friend had
reindeer hock in tarragon sauce and
I had Canadian goose in chocolate."

Sorry, I'm with a friend.

Oh. Aren't you the lucky one?!

Hello there!

Anyone about?

Shop!

Yes, can I help you? Aye.

I've come about one of them things
you put round necks.

A horse collar? No!

She'd look a bit daft
in one of them. I mean pendants.

Please wait... It's not a fix.

Just my insulin shot.
Well, well, well...

Nothing wrong with that, eh?
Only if you pee in kettles.

There are plenty of diabetics,
Superintendent.

Come here!

..Jonathan?

'"All then is full
possessing and possessed.

'"No craving void
left aching in the breast.

'"This sure is bliss
if bliss on earth there be.

'"And once the lot
of Abelard and me."'

Mr Pelman, put down the gun!

Put down the gun!

Got it?
Yeah, right.

Careful with it...

Concentrate, that's it...
You all right? Hi.

How did you know he was there?

Sam Dickson said
the stream was polluted and
I was sure Colin had been murdered.

The "note" was from an Alexander
Pope poem. Epistle Of Eloisa To
Abelard. But why did he copy it out?

For Ellie and me - a welcome poem.
He called us Eloisa and Abelard.
Not very complimentary!

Abelard was a monk who fell in love
with Eloisa. They sent her
to a nunnery and he was castrated.

Academic life and the police force.
He thought it fitted.

Someone found it on his desk and
put it in the Jeep. I reckon Angus
Pelman. Don't jump to conclusions.

He's got an alibi for that night.

Marianne Culpepper? I think they're
a number. Don't bank on that either.

Pelman just tried to shoot me!
Yeah, he says... he thought you were
a poacher. He was scaring you off.

What hit you was just a branch.
No, this case isn't over, Sergeant.

Oh, except I'm told I'm supposed to
say, "Inspector." Congratulations.

He's here!
Ssh...! He's coming!

Here he is!

Congratulations from us all, sir.
Thanks, except it's my wife who's
been doing the detective work.

Very good she was too, sir!
Where's the Big D?

He nearly landed in the cells!
He arrested Etherege and thumped a
customer. He pressed charges? Great!

Oh, aye?! No, Inspector,
the customer didn't press charges.

He was Mr Burne-Jones,
Etherege's partner. But he also
kept the kennels next door

and tipped Etherege off
when people went on holiday and
left their pets with him. You OK?

Don't you worry about me, sunshine.
You should see the other buggers!

Now, you idle lot! Check all this
against stolen property.

What is it? Stuff from
the Antiques Barn and the kennels.

Wieldy? Most of the good stuff's
missing - either sold on privately
or he had a professional handler.

Course he did!
This one might interest you, sir.
It's got a name on it. Oh, aye?

"Matthew Lewis.
Wetherton Liberal Club.

"Snooker Champion - 1995,
1996 and 1997." Well done, Gunga.

Now then, where's that daft,
university-educated inspector

who reckons Lewis wasn't killed
by the Micturater?

Move the bowels today,
Mr Etherege? You, you sod!

You put me in here! No.

It was 12 robberies, Lewis's murder
and a kettle full of urine
put you in here.

Come on! You might notch me for
a few robberies, but not murder.

No?
You've got a rotten temper. We've
placed you at the murder scene.

What'll your partner Davenant say
about that? He put you on to me?

No...
but you just put me on to him.

Quite sure you don't need a bedpan?

What do you expect?
How could I see you poor again?
I thought it were for the best.

It wasn't, you silly old sod!
What if the shock had killed me?

You'd have done it for nothing!
You look better, Mr Sturgeon.

Gradely! What's that? Things you may
identify. We arrested Mr Etherege
from the Antiques Barn at Birkham.

Well, that's ours for a start.
- And that is. And that!

There were a stamp album.
Sold, I suppose. It was valuable.
What about Mr Selkirk?

What does Mr Selkirk look like?
Thirtyish...

Scots accent, moustache, glasses...

So that's not him, then?
No, nothing like him.

He wore big black-framed glasses.

How about that, then? By golly...

That's amazing!

That's Archie Selkirk!

You were dead right, sir.
Cowley's Selkirk.

Your doxy was right too.
Davenant's our handler.
Ellie...? Got it in one.

She kept seeing him in Birkham and
linked him with Etherege. I think
I might take her on to the force.

She wouldn't like it.
Working with me? Course she would!

Now, Inspector, you need a good
night's sleep. Very thoughtful
of you, sir. I know.

First thing, go to Thornton to
pick up Davenant. Boghouse has him
in custody. He's in Thornton again?

It's odd he's turned up at two
murder cases. Of course, so have I.

Of course, you daft bugger.
So your fine, graduate brain now
sees these cases are connected?

What's that you said
about butterflies in the Andes
causing earthquakes in Chile?

The chaos theory.
I still don't see... Colin Hopkins,
was he interested in antiques? No.

Timmo Mansfield was quite
a collector. That's one to go for,
then. I've been thinking, um...

Now you've got your promotion,
maybe we should call each other
by first names?

Perhaps so... sir.

Right, grand.

Night, then, Paul.

My name's Peter!

Good morning.
Good morning.

Darlings, it's odd
to be interviewed by two of you.

You're the subject of two inquiries.
You're Anton Davenant.

Real name, Terence Arthur Dick.

Must you, Superintendent?!

A magazine journalist who
travels in Britain and abroad.
- Yes, that's what journalists do!

And dealers in stolen antiques?
- How rude! Do you have evidence?

You were seen frequently
at Etherege and Burne-Jones' shop.
I was writing about it.

I saw you'd picked up Etherege. You
can't possibly think he's a murderer.
He's confessed he's a burglar.

He says you disposed of the goods.
Must be a plea of insanity.

What a base suspicion!
- Isn't that what took you
to Brook Cottage?

Any evidence?!
- Yes, the vehicle check we did that
night spotted your car three times.

You knew Timothy Mansfield. He left
the EC after a fraud scandal. He
shipped collectables abroad. Timmo?

I met him in Paris on a gourmet
tour. He had a French figurine
for a very valued client.

Did you shoot the group that night?

No, darling! I left before dinner.
They were completely alive.

All right, Mr Dick. At the cottage,
did you see the contents of a book
by Colin Hopkins?

Yes, fascinating. Rich Man's
Poverty - The Problem Of The '90s.

All about Thornton Lacey.
He had it well sussed. They must've
been fretting about it coming out.

As for murder, I assure you there
are some far more likely suspects.

What did you do later?
- Visited Culpepper.

The "valued client".
You supplied his porcelain goods.
- I made a contribution.

Excuse me, sir.
Interview suspended, 11.36.

I found this in his car, sir.
Stamp album.

Sorry I couldn't make a better
contribution. You know how it is.

Much appreciated, major. Thank you.
DOORBELL

Excuse me.

Morning, Pascoe. Oh, Mr Pascoe.
Won't it do some other time?
We're about to have a lunch party.

Pascoe, heard you were around.
Look, sorry about that pot shot.

Been having poacher trouble.

Let's pop these in your car.
If you're going to be mistaken for
a poacher, better go home like one.

This what you want?
Take them through, Sam.

Well, Mr Pascoe,
now you've seen the bottles,
I suppose you might as well come in.

Hello, Mr Pascoe.
Always coming back, aren't you? Not
thinking of buying a cottage here?

You'd be very welcome.
"A perfect piece of England,

"where every prospect pleases...
..and only man is vile."

Drink, Mr Pascoe? As you see,
the village is back on form
since the inquest, so...

What brings you here? Porcelain,
Mr Culpepper. Last time I was here
I didn't pay it enough attention.

I wonder if I could
take a look at it now.

He says that on the night
of the murders he brought you
a French figurine. Yes.

There it is.

Are you saying that's stolen too?

We'll need to check, Mr Culpepper.

He arrived at...? ..7.30.
Left at 10.00 to go back to Oxford.

Were you able to pay him? Why do
you ask? The company you work for,
Nordrill, has problems, hasn't it?

..Yes, with our Scottish operation.

So they've been downsizing.
In fact,
they let you go months ago... Yes.

But you kept up the pretence. Going
to London, collecting porcelain,
entertaining...

Appearances are important.
Without them there's nothing.
Is this your business? Yes.

Colin Hopkins found out, didn't he?
Told the story in his book. He set
out to destroy this whole village!

Have you any idea
what it means to lose your job?

My job was me. An unemployed exec
in '90s Britain stays that way.

You're the top of the tree, then
you're nothing... and nobody cares.

Some of them are glad I went under.
Thought I deserved it.
Like Colin Hopkins?

Oh, he was very thorough. Checked
the executive employment agencies,

stalked his prey,
then set out to destroy lives.

He was writing about my financial
crisis, my bloody marriage!

My porcelain... Even found out
that was worthless, soiled by that
grubby little thief! I didn't know.

Inspector Pascoe. Sir?
This is my case, if you don't mind.

Hartley, no!

NO!

Sam...!

It's all right, love.

Inspector Pascoe
has entered the room.
As an observer. Go on, Mr Culpepper.

Davenant came with the figurine
and he told me about Hopkins's book.

He thought I wouldn't be able
to pay. I owed him a good deal.

When he left,
you went to the cottage?
- Not to harm Hopkins, just talk.

Rose Hopkins was out.
They had friends to stay...

so Hopkins
and I were in the living room.

You're living a bloody lie.
What's it to you? I'm a journalist.
What do you expect?

I expect you not to ruin me. It goes
to the publishers, Monday morning.

So, excuse us,
we're about to have dinner.

I hit him.

Then Rose Hopkins came back.

Yes.

I...

You killed her...
then went after Colin.

'He was running towards the stream.
I had to stop him.'

All right, Pascoe.

What about the book?
- Afterwards, I went back to get it.

'There was a poem on it.

'It was all about death.
That poem was meant for me.'

..I drove the Jeep to the quarry.

I had time. I knew Marianne would be
with her lover.

Sam Dixon? I went home...

burnt the book, hid the gun.
You're not just cruel, you're evil.
Believe me, I regret it.

But when someone sets out to destroy
your entire life, you no longer feel
quite the same about theirs.

She's completely fantastic.
So are you.

I thought we'd call her Rose.

Rose for remembrance? Well...

It's nearly right, isn't it? Yeah.

You know,
this time was so different.

Normally X kills Y, you find X,
then you forget about it.

This time Y was...

Irreplaceable.

But for someone,
it must be like this every time.

I hope you remember that.

Excuse me, but you can't!

I'm an old friend.
I brought these two sods together.

There wouldn't be any baby
without me. Oh, no!

You're not supposed to do that!
I know the matron. Another member
of the Liberal Club

Well, a filly or a colt?
She's a girl.

Oh.

Wouldn't like to be the godfather,
would you? Aye, I reckon I would!

Dalziel The Godfather -
sounds just like me.