Original subtitles

GIRL: # Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall #

There's a child here.

She wants to tell me something.

But she's afraid.

What is it, child?

Oh, she hides her face.

She won't speak to me.

Now I can see why she hides her face.

There's fire.

She is afraid of the fires.

(CHOKING)

Oh...

Oh, I'm tired.

There'll be no more contact tonight.

Thank you for coming.

(ALL CHATTERING)

You tired, Auntie?

Oh, for God's sake, Pauline, don't treat me like a geriatric

and stop "Auntie"-ing me.

- Good. Good night. - Good night.

- Well, was there anything for you tonight? - No, there was nothing for her tonight.

Go and ask John to bring the car around.

- She's being protective of you. - Perhaps.

- Now, now, now, what's this? - Just a small contribution.

- You've given enough already. - You've got expenses.

- Yes, but I... I... - Nonsense.

I'm sorry there was nothing for you.

My husband was always a quiet man.

But before he died, we promised we'd try and keep in touch.

Well, then, we'll keep trying. Maybe there'll be a message from somebody else.

I don't think there's anyone else I would care to communicate with.

Not even your son?

Certainly not my son.

I wish you wouldn't go to any more of those meetings, Auntie.

You don't have to come with me, Pauline.

Well, I think it's morbid. I mean, Uncle's been dead for more than 20 years.

You should let the past be, Auntie.

It only upsets you to think about it. You know it does.

Since when were you an expert on how I feel?

- I was very fond of my uncle, too. - You hardly knew him.

- I remember he was a very kind man. - He was a wonderful man.

He was sweet and gentle. I loved him dearly,

if it's any business of yours, which it isn't.

All I'm saying is that you shouldn't feel guilty. I mean, you didn't break his heart, did you?

That's enough, Pauline.

The suicide of an only son, it would have broken stronger men.

I think it's wonderful the way you survived it.

I said, that's enough.

Charlie, I can put you in touch with a dozen con men

who'd make a fool of you for half that price.

- He's not making a fool of me. - You believe all that nonsense?

That's why I want you there.

- Me? - Aye.

And Susan as well. You see, I don't want him to get suspicious.

- Don't want who to get suspicious? - Fellow called Raoul Barnaby.

That's exotic. Someone we should know about?

- He's a medium. - Medium what?

Oh, very doll. He's a medium!

You mean messages from the great beyond, is there anybody there,

knock once for yes, twice for no, that sort of medium?

Parlour games and Ouija boards, the four horsemen of the apocalypse,

and what do they fancy for the Grand National, right?

I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing.

You know it's all nonsense, don't you?

Apparently, he's paying through the nose for a séance with this Barnaby character.

No! You're not, are you?

- Is you heating on? - Yeah.

Mmm. Now why isn't mine?

Do me a favour, Charlie?

If there's a lull in the conversation when you're talking to the other side,

ask them for the solutions to one or two of our unsolved cases, will you?

You may find this had to believe,

but providing cheap laughs for you and Barney Crozier wasn't what I came here for.

Oh, look, Charlie, I'm sorry.

I intend to prove that Raoul Barnaby is a charlatan.

And all that stuff about spirit messages from beyond the grave

is a load of superstitious twaddle.

Why? Why this crusading zeal all of a sudden? What's in it for you?

Look, there are people who believe the sort of rubbish that Barnaby peddles.

People who are perfectly sensible in every other way, respectable people who...

well, who deserve better.

Anyone in particular?

All this stuff about ghosts and such like, it's dangerous.

It can do folk harm, it can drive you mad.

(ROOSTER CROWING)

(CREAKING)

LIL: It's bigger then I expected. SUSAN: I told you it was a bargain.

LIL: That's what they all say.

- Knocked-down price for a quick sale. - You sure it's not a fall-down price?

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

- It hasn't been lived in for a while. - Doesn't look too bad.

No, the owners have kept it in good decorative order throughout...

My God, I'm beginning to sound like one of my brochures, aren't I?

- Did you say it was a private trust? - It's probably just some sort of tax dodge.

Yes.

Maybe it's a charitable trust for tired night club owners.

Go on through, have a look round.

(ROOSTER CROWING)

It's all included.

I'd prefer to furnish it myself.

Well, at this price, you can afford to keep what you like and burn the rest.

All right, Susan. It's too good to be true. Come on now, what's the snag?

Well...

Bit big for you, I suppose.

(DOOR SLAMMING)

This is a fair-sized attic.

Get rid of some of the junk.

Bit cold in here.

No wonder. Somebody's left the window open.

Look at this. There's some scratch...

Lil?

Lil...

Lil?

(GASPS)

God!

(EXCLAIMS)

(GASPS)

You all right, love?

You cannot be serious!

- Why, what's wrong, dear? - Mrs Wicks is in the kitchen, throwing a tantrum.

Oh, she fusses too much. A few more vegetables, a couple of extra slices of meat...

I spent days organising a special birthday dinner for one of your oldest friends

and now, at the 11th hour, you invite my ex-husband and his mistress.

- You ex-husband and his mistress? - Well, what would you call them?

Jim and Susan.

As if this bloody silly séance idea wasn't enough of a disruption.

Look, just sit down thee for a minute, will you, dear?

Now then, Bobbie will love it.

You see, she's very keen on all this spiritualism. It will be a great surprise for her.

- Dad! Please! - Oh, sorry, dear.

Not as an after-dinner conjuring show, she's not.

Why else do you think I've hired this Barnaby fellow?

Roberta takes it all very seriously.

Well, so does he. Hages very serious prices, anyway.

Oh, hello, love, are you feeling better?

Did you phone the school?

I told them it would probably be a week or so before you were fully recovered.

Thanks, Granddad.

In the meantime, as you're ill, I suggest you go back to bed, young lady.

Well, it's not serious, Mum. In fact, I feel a bit better already.

There's a surpise!

- Can I come tonight? - Why not? Everybody else seems to be.

I don't know what he expects us to do.

But whatever it is, we're supposed to make it look natural, all right?

- I hate this sort of thing. - What? Detective work? Dinner parties?

Ghosts and ghoulies.

Just because you're selling haunted houses these days...

- You think this is a big joke, don't you? - No, just a medium joke.

The fact that someone committed suicide there is just a coincidence?

- Yes. - Lil thinks so, too.

- Well, perhaps I should take her with me. - Be my guest.

Trouble is, she hasn't got your sense of humour.

- Boo! - Oh!

That is not funny.

Right. In here, everybody, if you please.

Now I have precise instructions. We're all to be in our places by 10:30 exactly.

- The dinner was superb, Charles. - Good.

Now, if you'd like to sit here, Bobbie.

Now what are you up to?

David, you'll be in that chair over there.

Are you sure I don't need my legal advisor a little closer to hand?

I don't think I'd be able to offer you any coherent advice, Roberta.

Now, Kim, dear, you sit in that chair beside your mothe there.

Oh, I'd rather sit next to Dad.

I think that would interfere with you grandfather's plan,

whatever that may be.

And Pauline, you'll be here, love. Next to me here.

- Can I trust you, Charlie? - I sincerely hope not.

No, no, no, you're next to David and Pete.

Go and sit next to Debbie and keep your eyes open.

Certainly, Charles.

"Certainly, Charles." Useless streak.

I don't know where Deborah digs them up from nowadays, really I don't.

- He looks all right to me. - No. He'll be no help to us at all.

Have you checked out the room thoroughly?

I suppose he's going to put in an appearance?

He's going to be late, which is going to make me look pretty damn stupid

after all this precision time mumbo-jumbo he's insisted on.

Oh, that's right. Now listen, I've put him next to you, so watch him.

Right, ladies and gentlemen.

I've asked you all to join me here in the library...

- Ah, I know, it's one of those murder mysteries. - We haven't had a murder yet, have we?

Well, perhaps you have the solution first, then you work out the murder.

David.

Now look, settle down, everybody, settle down, please.

Now, in 15 seconds, it will be 10:30 exactly.

And I want you all to look at this light and concentrate.

On what?

On the light.

Concentrate now. Just keep looking at the light.

Oh, heck, I can't see a damn thing.

(ALL CHUCKLING)

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you'll forgive the theatricality.

Success in those areas which are regarded as beyond ou experience

frequently depends on something as tenuous

as the collective mood of the gathering.

Take your place please, Mr Hungerford.

Now, you see, that was supposed to be my place.

- I mean, you were supposed... - Oh...

Oh, thank you.

Tonight, I hope to take you on a brief journey

through that dark barrier which some call death

so that, perhaps, together, we may glimpse the light beyond.

Roberta Jardine, who is our guest of honour,

is no stranger to these stumbling journeys of mine.

She, alone among you, knows that my powers are,

regrettably, somewhat erratic.

But here, tonight, on the anniversary of her birth,

it is my fervent wish that I may justify

the faith that she has shown in me.

And I hope that faith may be finally vindicated.

Now, I would ask you all kindly to join hands.

This is merely to focus your minds and to prevent any sudden movements.

Now I would ask for complete quiet

as I concentrate on Roberta.

I concentrate on Roberta.

Is anybody there?

Is anybody there?

Speak.

The way is open.

(WHIMPERING)

(IN CHILD'S VOICE) Why did you wake me?

I was asleep.

What do you want of me?

What do you want of me?

Is... Is there a message for anyone here?

Jane has a message.

Is there anyone there who wants a message from Jane?

- I know a Jane at school. - She'd be more likely to use the phone, dear.

Jane says the last two fires were fakes.

They were not the same.

They were not the same as the one that hurt her.

Jane says the one who knows must tell the truth.

And who is it that knows this truth?

(ALL GASPING)

MAN: No! No! No, I say!

What the hell's going on?

GIRL: # Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall #

GIRL: No. Please don't. Please don't hurt me!

Let her go.

Leave her alone.

He's... He's forcing her back.

He's using fire to drive her away into the darkness.

- Auntie, are you all right? - Oh, she's crying.

No, you must stop it. Can't somebody stop it?

- She's crying so. - Please, somebody stop it.

All right, this has gone quite far enough.

(EXCLAIMS)

My God, he's had some sort of fit.

- Auntie, are you all right? - Oh, for God's sake, woman, Raoul could die!

Loosen his tie.

- You shouldn't have broken the circle, Charlie. - You told somebody to stop it.

I didn't mean the séance.

(BARNABY GASPING)

PAULINE: Oh, he's coming out of it. ROBERTA: Thank God.

Oh, God! Oh!

Got such a headache.

- What happened? - That's what I'd like to know.

Just look at my table. My beautiful, very expensive table.

Oh, she's just leaving, Pauline.

- Why? - Eh?

Why, Charlie? Why did you do that?

Well, you told me you were worried about your Aunt and Barnaby.

I was just trying to help.

That was supposed to help?

You've just made things worse. Didn't you see how upset she was?

- Roberta's waiting in the car, Pauline. - Oh, sorry.

Look, thank you for a lovely evening.

Oh, never mind, Charlie, I'm sure you meant it for the best.

Well, look, I really am very sorry. I mean, if there is anything I can do...

It was a conjuring act.

He hid in the room after I'd searched it.

And then he put some sort of delayed-action incendiary device

here in the fireplace.

What about the voice?

Ventriloquism?

It was a child's voice.

Perhaps he had an accomplice.

Is that what you were looking for in his jacket? A very small accomplice?

Yeah, Japanese, of the tape recorder variety.

How do you explain these scratches?

It was a very clever conjuring act.

Jim, I've seen that mark before.

SUSAN: Wait for me.

Come on. Nothing to be frightened of.

- Where is it? - It's over here.

Here it is.

Does look the same as on Charlie's table, doesn't it?

Yeah.

And the owners are represented by David Mackenzie personally, are they?

David Mackenzie is the trustee.

- Did you ask him who the beneficiaries are? - None of my business.

Well, could you find out?

Are we going now?

What does that look like to you?

Like it's been burnt. Maybe someone else was cold, too.

Can we go now? Please?

Fire.

That's the link, isn't it?

But with what?

- Morning, Jim. - Hello, Terry.

An outbreak of broomsticks and bare-ass barbecues, do you reckon?

That's all we need.

Bunch of certifiable lunatics running about, trying to summon up Christopher Lee.

It is the time of year for it.

- The report said it was burnt. - It's Halloween in a couple of weeks.

- "In loving memory of Jane." - And it's only ten years old as well.

- Any other damage? - No, just this.

- Who reported it? - He did.

Happened last night, he reckons.

Have you seen the date of death? October 15, 1965.

Yesterday was the 15th.

"Sing a song of seasons, something bright in all,

"flowers in the summer, fires in the fall."

TERRY: Mean something?

Could do.

"Flowers in the summer, fires in the fall." Yes, it's Robert Louis Stevenson.

- Really? - Not a lot of people know that.

Well, it's on one of your headstones.

- No. - Yeah. Jane Smith. 1965.

Before my time. I'm the "and Son."

All that is left of the once-respectable Jeavans and Son.

You wouldn't happen to have a file on the Jane Smith grave, would you?

You're joking, of course. That's more than 20 years ago, Sergeant.

And anyway, files smack of business efficiency, those were dirty words to my old man.

One of the reasons the firm finally went broke. Well, almost.

So you can't tell me anything more about this verse.

Why it was chosen, for example?

A favourite of the deceased? 'Tis a kid's verse, after all.

How did you know she was a child, this Jane Smith?

What is this?

Well, I didn't say, it was before your time, how did you know?

- Oh, very Lieutenant Columbo. - Just answer the question, will you?

At one stage, in a glittering business career,

my father sold what he was pleased to call "perpetual maintenance" contracts.

- And Jane Smith's one of them. - Graven on my heart with all the others.

- It has been vandalised. - Oh, God.

You got any idea who might have done that or why?

No, of course I haven't. All I know is I've got to fix it.

Tough.

I want to speak to Mr Mackenzie, please. Yes, okay, I'll hold.

Yes, well, I wasn't planning to put a full task force onto it.

I mean, desecrating graves may be distasteful, but it's hardly major crime, is it?

I think there's more to this one.

- There are some strange coincidences. - For instance?

Well, I prefer to check them first, if I may.

It's not like you to be coy.

Well, I could have completed my investigation in the time it takes to get your okay.

That sounds like Parkinson's Law of Criminology.

My husband says that honouring the dead is what separates us from the beasts.

That's very profound, Peggy.

All right. But keep it within bounds, please.

It's cold in here, isn't it?

- What is Parkinson's Law of Criminology? - Hmm?

Crime expands to occupy the number of police available to investigate it.

That's very profound, Chief Inspector.

Are they ever going to come and fix this heating?

ROBERTA: I'm not going to talk about it. DAVID: You must.

- As your legal advisor, I have an obligation... - It's too late.

We can't bring him back. It's over.

- Then what was last night all about? - Malevolent spirits.

There's something else. I only heard this morning.

- The child's grave has been disturbed. - What do you mean?

I don't have all the details yet.

You keep away from that grave. You keep away from it.

Now don't worry, Roberta, no one will make the connection because...

- Morning, David. Morning, Auntie. - DAVID: Pauline.

It's somewhat an exaggeration to call it the morning, Pauline.

And, please, don't call me Auntie.

Sorry, Roberta.

Maria, bring me some fresh toast and honey.

- Si, mi niña, - And tea. Hot tea.

She doesn't like me much, does she?

Considering the way you treat her, are you surprised?

You're no lady, Pauline.

I hope last night didn't upset you too much. Shocks aren't good for you at your age.

"At my age"? What do you mean, "at my age"?

Well, I think I better be off. I'm due back at the office.

Honest to God, Pauline, if you keep this up...

Anytime you want me to go back to London, you know you've only got to say.

- Go back to London. - You know you don't mean that.

- I'll see you out, David. - You most certainly will not.

Now what's the matter?

You'll see no one out of my house dressed like that.

I'll go and get dressed then.

I don't know why I put up with your moods.

Where there's a will, there's a way.

I'll see you late. We still have things to discuss.

No. Malevolent spirits thrive on attention.

- David, what is wrong with her? - It's nothing, Pauline.

I don't seem to be able to do anything to please her.

Don't worry about it, you're doing fine.

She hasn't talked any more about changing the will.

- I don't care about the money. - No, I know you don't.

It's just that she hates me and I don't know why.

- Well, you could be a bit more tactful, perhaps. - Look, I am tying, I eally am.

I know, I know. I know you are. You're doing fine. Don't worry about it.

What do you got for me, Barry?

According to the death certificate, the little girl wasn't resident in the island.

Then why was she buried here?

- Maybe there wasn't much of her to take back. - Eh?

Well, the inquest brought in an open verdict, probably for the same reason.

What are you on about?

Well, she was burnt in a haystack fire, didn't you know?

Well, the body would have been more or less incinerated, I suppose.

Well, it's all very fascinating.

Well, it would need a little polish.

- It would need a good deal more than that. - What do you suggest?

Sex, in as many variations as you could think of, would be a good place to start.

But frankly, I'm not interested anyway.

I came along because you said you had a story for me.

Selected extracts from I was a Teenage Psychic won't do it, I'm afraid, either for me or my editor.

Don't be hasty, Mr Croxted.

Time and deadlines wait for no man. There're a million stories in the naked city.

What do you look for in a story?

Sex, violence, local interest, preferably.

There is something happening locally that involves supernatual violence.

Really?

Any sex?

I can't see the appeal of this sort of thing, can you? Gives me the creeps.

Anybody home?

First sign of knocking and I'm leaving.

- Ah, you stay here. - What? On my own?

(KNOCKING)

Hello?

Come in.

Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting?

No, come in, Bergerac. We we're just discussing my memoirs.

Well, as long as you don't want accuracy, then Croxted here is your man.

I love it when policemen lecture me about accuracy.

Malcolm came to interview me about last night.

Now there's a coincidence.

I've been tinkering with a book, but it needs the professional touch.

Ghost writing, I think it's called. Isn't that right, Malcolm?

I've got a couple questions to ask you about last night, Mr Barnaby.

Official questions.

- You want me to wait outside? - If you don't mind.

Or even if I do...

Ah, wait.

- That yours? - Oh, yeah.

That is a verse by Robert Louis Stevenson, I'm told.

Does that mean anything to you?

Sorry.

Never seen it before? On a gravestone?

A gavestone?

- Barry Goddard, isn't it? - Yeah?

- Malcolm. Malcolm Croxted. - Yeah.

What's the Bureau's interest in this little lot then, Barry?

Well, I'm not sure to be quite honest.

Still working on the mushroom principle, are they? Keeping you in the dark and feeding you bullshit.

Well, some kid's grave's been vandalised,

but I don't know what the connection is with this lot.

Are you suggesting I'm responsible?

The coincidences are pretty striking, you must...

Thought I told you to stay outside.

If what I've just been told is true, you're going to have to throw me out.

That could be arranged.

It's all right, Sergeant. There's no need for that.

You're quite correct. Those weren't coincidences. How could they be?

I am responsible.

It's a fair cop.

"I have raised the ghost of a child. Anguished medium tells all to police."

Dear God Almighty.

Yeah, I saw it.

I cannot believe you questioned that idiot in front of a reporter, and Croxted at that.

Well, as a matte of fact, I didn't.

An official investigation of a haunting. No wonder you were coy.

- Um, here's my report. - The case is closed.

Oh, aren't you even going to look at it?

Is there anything there that isn't in the newspaper?

You did mention the pitiful cries of a child's ghost, begging for help.

Look there's nothing I can charge him with as yet,

but I do think we could have the basis for a charge of fraud.

We could have the basis for looking even bigger prats than we do already.

When Charlie Hungerford first came to me with this,

I didn't take him very seriously.

But now I do think he may have something.

A severe attack of gibbering fury, judging from the phone call I got from him this morning.

However, he did say an official inquiry is the last thing the situation calls for

and I agree with him.

The case is closed.

Thank you, John. You can wait in the car.

Barnaby couldn't have brought the sort of publicity that you've given him.

Hey, careful! You've got 3,000 quid's worth of radar equipment there,

not a sack of Jersey Royals!

- It was Croxted who gave him the publicity. - It was you who gave him the excuse.

Yeah, all ight now. Ms Jadine.

There's no need to take that down.

Is she the reason for all this, Charlie?

I said leave that where it is!

- All right I'll go and talk to her. - No, wait!

Well, is she the eason, halie? Is she that someone paticula?

- It was told to me in confidence. - All the best gossip is, isn't it?

Well, I heard that Barnaby's been getting money off of her.

A lot of money and all of it in cash.

Well, it's he money, Charlie. She can spend it how she likes.

Yeah, but she's not spending it. She's giving it away.

She's worked all her life. She took that one store her husband inherited over here

and built up that enormous great chain on the mainland, virtually on her own,

and along comes this damn con man...

- Her son, he committed suicide, didn't he? - She never talked about him.

Oh, come on, Charlie. You're not telling me everything, are you?

- Bobbie isn't as young as she was. - (SCOFFING) But who is?

I know, but the thing is she might be... Well, you know, slipping a bit.

- Oh, you mean senile? - No.

Well, you see, she was planning to change her will.

Barnaby's been working on her to leave all her money to him.

- Oh, so that's it. - And Pauline's very worried about it.

Was that Pauline Taylor, the niece?

Yeah, that's right. She's Bobbie's only living relative.

She's very worried about her aunt's frame of mind.

- Is she the sole heir? - No, that isn't the point.

- But is she? - Well, yes.

At least she was, until Barnaby went into his act.

Hey! If there's any damage to that lot, it's you I shall claim against!

BARNABY: A fire. And soon the rigs will burn.

Oh, a fire.

And she says like before, she wants to warn.

A fire, danger, she must tell the truth.

What happened to her?

Seems to be a warning of some kind.

I thought you people should hear it.

Thank you very much, Mr Croxted, for bringing it in.

All right you've done your civic duty.

Now get out of here before I have you arrested for wasting police time.

The man's genuinely worried.

He's trying to help.

JIM: This time the performance was just for you, was it?

ROXTED: Yep.

I suppose the Post is planning to run this latest piece of nonsense.

The editor seems to like it.

What happened to responsible newspapers?

I give up. What did happen to responsible newspapers?

(PAGER BEEPING)

Thanks.

- What's he up to, do you think? - Who? Croxted?

Barnaby.

The case is closed.

Oh, God.

Yep. Terrific, love. That's just what I want.

Don't tell me. Barnaby's managed to contact the spirit of a topless go-go dancer.

Better than that, Bergerac. Money in the bank.

Where's the fire, mate?

Who was he talking to?

It's extremely impolite to listen to other people's telephone conversations.

Only if they catch you at it.

Seemed to be the cuttings library at his newspaper.

John!

I've, uh... I've changed my mind, actually, John. I'll take them myself. Thank you.

Don't you think people might find your presence here a bit suspicious?

- You're looking particularly lovely this evening. - That's a very stupid remark.

- It's only money, my dear. - Oh, it's a lot more than money.

Are those flowers from Roberta?

She seems very shaken.

Well, tomorrow's headline should really put the bats into the belfry then.

What do you mean?

- All this is very touching, don't you think? - No, I don't think.

I didn't realise how much power I had or how much I'd enjoy using it.

The fires are coming, Pauline.

The fires are coming.

Auntie, this is Malcolm Croxted. He's a reporter.

I know who he is.

What are you doing in my house?

I see you've read my story.

- What do you want? - Just a few questions.

He's talking to everybody who was at Charlie's séance.

Not to me, Mr Croxted.

Oh, it's silly to upset the press, Auntie.

After all, we have nothing to hide.

We have nothing to say, either.

(BELL RINGING)

Why have you been sending flowers to the child's grave?

I have not.

Maria show this gentleman out, please.

- You chauffeur says you have. - Señor?

Mrs Jardine has been deeply moved by the contacts with the child.

The gentleman is leaving, Maria.

Or must I call the police?

- Did you ever meet the child when she was alive? - No, I did not.

All right, maybe some other time.

The flowers were a token of her feelings.

That's a stupid lie.

Why tell him a stupid lie like that?

He's going to print lies anyway.

Anyway, you did send flowers.

Well, I did. It was on your behalf.

Honest to God, Pauline, there are times when I wonder whether you're out of you mind.

No, no, it's you they're all worried about.

Those meetings.

- You're still going to those meetings, aren't you? - I promised.

Don't intefere with things you don't understand.

Well, it's your behaviour. I mean, you've been very unpredictable lately.

Penny for them, Auntie?

No, it's grotesque.

You shouldn't mumble to yourself, you know.

It's grotesque.

You're... You're not really trying to outwit an old woman, are you?

I don't understand.

It doesn't matter.

Where is it?

I won't have it, Jim. I won't have these bloody people playing games with us.

What is the matter with this radiator?

Read it.

About 20-odd years ago, there was a whole series of barn burnings and haystack fires.

The arsonist was never identified.

- Was the girl the only casualty? - Yes, it seems it was treated as a case of murder.

- Well, that wasn't the inquest verdict. - Well, you surprised?

Having some lunatic running around setting fire to things must have been bad enough

without officially acknowledging that a child here on holiday was burnt to death in the process.

The heating engineer is on his way, sir.

An open verdict was about the best face they could put on it.

You said that yesterday, Peggy.

- And now it's coming back to haunt us. - Yes, I want you to investigate the murder.

What, after 20 years?

The file is still open. I want you to close it for good.

- Well, the file's not here. - Well, it must be there.

Would you like to have a look for it yourself?

My guess is that it went ta-ta's when we went electronic.

- But it's not on the computer. - Exactly.

- Well, all right, who was the investigating officer? - Sergeant Plemont, I think.

Oh, old Jack Plemont.

Must have been one of his last cases then.

I'd just joined the job when he reached his 20 and called it a day.

Very popular man, you know.

I remember his retirement bash.

(CHUCKLING)

We saw some stuff that night.

We got this stripper, and what she couldn't do with...

Yeah.

Hang on.

- Here we are. - Oh, at last.

- Just as I thought. - What?

Someone's taken it out and never brought it back.

I don't suppose there's any point in asking who or when?

There's no need to get uppity with me, son. These computer types are a law onto themselves.

Yeah, well, thank you, Derek. You've been a great help.

- What am I going to do now? - You can do what you like. I'm going for me lunch.

Detective Sergeant Plemont?

Oh, that was a long time ago.

Yeah, well, you know what they say, once a cop, always a cop, eh?

Hi, I'm Jim Bergerac. I'm a DS with the Bureau des Étrangers.

Could I have a word, please?

- Come in. - Ta.

- Have a chair. - Thanks.

It's all right. It's not catching.

Booze, fags, lousy hours.

I'd like to ask you, Jack, about a case that you were on.

Always happy to reminisce.

It was a murder case. A young girl. Jane Smith.

Ten years old. She was playing hide-and-seek in a haystack.

- Someone set fire to it. - Yeah.

Seventh in a series of nine cases of arson. '64, '65.

I'd have given a lot to have got my hands on whoever it was.

- But I couldn't get started. You know what I mean. - What, you had no leads at all?

Dead case from the beginning.

Want a drink, Jim? I've got a good malt I keep for visitors.

You'll have to help yourself, though. It's locked in the cupboard up there.

I'd love to, but I'm on the wagon at the moment, you know?

- Let me get you one. - No, not allowed.

That's why it's locked up.

Look, didn't the fire boys come up with anything, like method?

What method?

These are haystacks. Barns. All it takes is a match.

So it was just the pattern that pointed to arson, right?

The alternative was nine cases of spontaneous combustion.

Why did the fires stop, do you think?

Who can fathom a nutter?

It was my last case. Not what you call a case.

It'd have been nice to go out on a win.

Why did you pack it in?

I was knackered. 20 years of coppering finally caught up with me.

Booze, fags, lousy hours? Yeah, I know that stuff.

Well, maybe we'll be lucky this time around. Get a result for you.

No, you don't mean you've reopened the case?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Hey, you all right?

Who's bright idea was that?

Well, the original request came from beyond the grave, would you believe.

Take a look at that.

- Fire people can't say whether it was arson or not. - And it only takes a match.

Unless, of course, you believe in ghosts.

(ALL CHATTERING)

- Hello. - Hello.

- Hello. - I haven't seen you for days.

Who's that?

Oh, it's what's his face, you know, "excused - boots". Phantom of the filing.

Oh, God. He also bores for Britain.

- Hello, Terry. How's it going? - Oh, not bad.

How are the feet?

Oh, all right, as long as they don't put me back on the beat, you know.

- Hello, Sarge. I didn't know you was a believe. - I could say the same about you.

Oh, well, it's the missus drags me in. Daft as a brush.

Don' tell her I said that, though.

- Well, an official visit, is it? - Oh, you know.

Oh, say no more.

Who we looking for then?

I saw Jack Plemont today.

- I thought he was dead. - He very nearly is, by the look of him.

- How sick was he when he retired? - Sick? Oh, no, he weren't sick.

- Then why did he leave? - Well, he got a better offer, from the mainland.

Well, looks like we're off.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

- Can you spare me for half an hour? - No.

Pity.

I just fancied going over to the stakeout and scaring the crap out of Barry.

This is overtime, not playtime, you fool.

(OWL HOOTING)

(EXCLAIMS)

Get a grip of yourself, man.

You could have given me a heart attack, you bloody idiot.

Sssh! Give me that torch.

Stay where you are! Go!

You... You must tell them, Mother!

(EXCLAIMING)

I bun in hell, Mothe!

You must tell them it was me who set the fies!

(GROANING)

You must tell them!

How could you? How could you? You wicked man!

You disgaceful man!

- Auntie, what's the matter? - Let me go! Leave me alone.

It's lies. It's lies. Don't listen to him. Don't listen.

He's a liar. Why don't you arrest him? Why don't you arrest people like that?

- What's he supposed to have done? - Don't touch me!

I'm sorry, Sergeant. I don't know what's the matter with her.

- That was who Jack Plemont went to work for. - What?

Old Mrs Jardine, when she had all them department stores on the mainland.

He had some fancy title. Chief Security Advisor.

Yeah, well, I've head of the graveyard shift, but that was above and beyond the call.

- Vandals, is it? - Yeah.

- Kids on a dare, thrill-seekes. - God, I wish I'd been there.

Brown trouser job, was it?

Well, when you come down to it, Sarge,

that's all any of this supernatural stuff is really, isn't it?

- Masks and tricks and... - Cheers, Perroquet.

And playing silly buggers.

Pull.

MAN: Pull.

You should know better than to ask me that.

Well, you did the hiring and firing for the chain of shops in the '60s, didn't you?

- Me? Course not. - Oh, well, would you mind telling me who did?

Pull.

MAN: Pull.

Roberta. She did everything.

She controlled the company completely, top to bottom.

She's a remarkable woman.

So, if I wanted some background on Jack Plemont...

- Why would you want background on him? - Oh, just routine inquiries.

Well, I'd rather you didn't bother Mrs Jardine with them.

She is rather upset at the moment.

Well, I just wanted to ask her why she'd employed him.

Well, he was qualified for the job.

He was very kind to her and her husband when their son died.

When he committed suicide, you mean?

Dead's dead, Sergeant. No matter how it happened.

- Just one more thing, please. - Hmm?

An estate agent friend of mine is selling a house on behalf of a trust which you represent.

Who benefits from that sale?

Really, Bergerac.

I should know better than to ask you that, right?

Thank you.

Pull.

PAULINE: She's in a very funny mood today.

She's given me strict instructions that she doesn't want to see anyone.

Who is it, Pauline?

Sergeant Bergerac, Mrs Jardine. Jim Bergerac.

Thanks.

Mrs Jardine, I've come to talk to you about Raoul Barnaby.

No.

Well, you seemed rather anxious to have him arrested last night.

I said no.

Well, can I talk to you about Jack Plemont, then?

I'm sorry, I don't recall anyone of that name.

He's a former policeman here on the island.

I've neve head of him. Now, if you'll excuse me.

I'm... I'm sorry, but I understood he held a rather senior position in your company.

Sergeant Bergerac, I will not be cross-examined in my own house.

Auntie! Sergeant Bergerac's only trying to do his job.

I mean, you're acting as though you've done something terrible.

How dare you? How dare you?

If you ever talk to me like that again, you will be very sorry.

I'm sorry about that, Sergeant.

My aunt's obviously not in a fit state to answer any questions at the moment.

Why's she so frightened, do you know? Is she hiding something?

I don't know.

Look, why don't you let me have a talk with her and I'll see if I can bring her to her senses.

- Okay, Miss Taylor, but I will need some answers. - Yeah, of course.

- Look, if you wouldn't mind, I... - All right, sure, okay.

PEGGY: Bureau des Étrangers.

- This is Roberta Jardine speaking. - Oh, yes.

- May I leave a message for Sergeant Bergerac? - Why, yes, certainly you can.

I wanted to apologise for being so rude and I would like to talk to him.

# Sing a song of seasons

Well, I'll certainly give him that message.

# Something bright in all

Hello?

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall

# Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall #

You. It was you all the time.

Grotesquely ordinary me.

You and Barnaby.

# Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all #

If you think you're going drive me out of my mind...

Oh, no, Auntie. That's not what I planned at all.

What's the matter? Nobody committing crimes in the island any more?

So you tried to help, did you?

Her only son had killed himself. I felt sorry for them.

What form did this help take?

Jack?

Son was a bit odd.

Lived alone in an old house.

You know what the press would have done with that.

So I helped keep it low-profile.

Didn't ask too many questions?

Just made sure everything went smoothly. Quietly.

And I expect the undertaker did the same, didn't he?

What did they make him? Head of Personnel?

Solvent, as a matter of fact. Made him solvent.

He was going broke until then.

How did the boy die? Was it rope? Pills? What?

He doused himself in petrol, struck a match.

There were Buddhist monks at it all over at the time.

But he did it because he felt guilty about killing the little girl. Am I right?

You're quick, son, I'll give you that. But you're too quick.

'Cause after his death, there were more fires. So what does that do to your theory?

What's wrong with you, Jack?

Emphysema. Come on in the last three years. Smoking.

You sure it wasn't the smoke fom those fires?

You accusing me of being the arsonist now?

Well, let's say you set those two fires after the boy's death

to make it look as though it wasn't him.

Here.

You are a bent cop, aren't you, Jack? You covered up for a murderer.

There's nothing to be gained by exposing the Jardines' dead son.

And a lot to be gained by not exposing him, right?

You should have seen the state they were in, especially Mr Jardine. It killed him.

Poor bastard, died of a broken heart.

And what about the girl's family? Weren't they broken-hearted, too?

- They weren't islandes. - And they weren't rich.

I do not believe I'm hearing this.

Oh, don't come the outraged verger with me, son.

You've still got your hand in the old woman's purse, have you, Jack?

Wouldn't have brought the kid back, would it?

Nothing we did or didn't do would bring either of them back.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

All right! All right! I'm coming!

- Is Charlie here? - No, he isn't. What's the matter with you?

I need his help.

Pauline, calm down and tell me what's wrong.

I've had a fight with Auntie and she... She kept picking on me.

It was impossible!

I hit her.

- I've killed her! - What?

What did you say?

I said I've killed my aunt!

Jim, Scene of Crime's on the way.

- Where's the body? - Foot of the stairs.

- She's at the foot of the stairs. - Nope.

Well, she must be. That's where she fell after I hit her.

No, she isn't.

- Bit quick for an overdose, isn't it? - Not if she took those with that.

But I can't tell without a post-mortem. I'm a doctor, not a clairvoyant.

Mrs Taylor was quite convinced she'd killed he aunt

by knocking her down the stairs.

There's evidence of a blow to the head. Maybe she was just stunned.

How closely did you examine her, Pauline?

I was upset and frightened.

Are you suggesting she regained consciousness and walked up here?

I'm not suggesting anything till I've done a post.

- Did she commit suicide? - Not necessarily.

She could have been groggy, confused, in pain.

And she wouldn't have known what she was taking, right?

Is that possible?

I'll tell you what's possible after the post-mortem.

Then, of course, it's up to you to decide what actually happened.

All right. Careful. Okay. All right.

Excuse me.

- I don't know how you can show your face. - I came to pay my respects to your aunt.

You respects? It was what you were doing, you bastard.

Don't stop him, Pauline. The fellow's not worth it.

It was him who drove her to her suicide.

Look, don't make a scene, love, not now.

Bobbie wouldn't like it.

Now, come on. Come on.

Still squabbling over the money, by the look of it.

You don't like her much, do you?

Well, it wasn't her fault she didn't kill the old lady. She tried.

Not deliberately. God, you're an unforgiving soul sometimes.

She doesn't need my forgiveness. She's got the press on her side, hasn't she?

It's the dark secrets of suicide family.

She's the innocent victim, according to Croxted.

Well, that doesn't make her guilty.

Do you know, I was half-expecting a piece on someone else.

Son's suicide site and all that.

He's probably out there now, poking about.

Well, I wish him joy. Lil's out there measuring up. She's not going to take too kindly to trespassers.

- Hello, love. - Hello, Dad.

- Hey, I like you outfit. That's nice. - Thank you.

Why aren't you at school?

She's developed a sudden devotion to Roberta Jardine's memory.

Flaming kids.

And we now commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth,

ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

In the sue and certain hope of the resurection to eternal life

through our Lord, Jesus Christ.

He's going to be all right. But can someone see him to the office, okay?

Dad?

- Is he all right? - Yeah, I think so, love.

- Something really scared him. - Well, he's a sick man.

You sure that's what it is?

- Only I thought I saw something as well. - Saw what?

- It was like a ghost. - Well, you're in the right place for it, aren't you?

Yeah.

I have no comment, Mr Croxted.

Roberta Jardine's son was a murderer, that's what the spirit messages were saying.

And that's why she killed herself.

If you print that or anything remotely like it, I will sue you for every penny you possess.

And... And hound that disgusting rag you work for out of existence.

- On your way, Croxted. - I'm entitled to be here. It's a public place.

- Freedom of the press. - Leave.

And if we won't go?

Well, you could always pick yourself out a permanent plot.

Will you listen to that? Rambo in a lounge suit.

Excuse me.

Oh, Mr Jeavans.

Is it true that Mrs Jardine saved your father's business?

Don't ask me why, though.

I never could work out what a middle-aged, unsuccessful undertaker had

that would appeal to a woman like her.

I have already told you, Mr Croxted, that I have nothing more to say to you.

- Gentlemen. Gentlemen. - How many more...

This is a funeral.

- Croxted, there is nothing here for you. - You'd be surprised, Bergerac.

There's times you can lean as much by what you're not told as by what you are.

(ALL LAUGHING)

He dopped his bloody keys. An you believe it?

He told me this great gag, though. It's about three blokes and a dog.

This is over a week old.

I know. I'm sorry. It went completely out of my mind.

Oh, for God's sake, Peggy.

- Terry, keep it down, will you? - Sorry.

- You're sure about this? - Mmm-hmm.

I mean, I was with Mrs Jardine that morning,

and she wasn't over-pleased by my company then.

Well, she must have phoned soon after that.

- How'd she sound? - Well, she was very polite.

She said she'd reconsidered and wanted to talk to you.

- Was that all? - Mmm-hmm.

Then when she died late that same day, well, it's important, isn't it?

Yes.

I wonder which one she reconsider? Plemont or Barnaby?

Hey, Terry, grab your coat, will you?

I'll tell you later. It's a good one, I tell you.

Side door's locked, too.

- Can you smell gas? - You know, I think I can.

I bet it's even stronger round to the side door, isn't it?

Now you come to mention it, yeah.

- What's the lock like? - About as strong as the gas leak.

No.

No.

No.

Hey. You think this is what he used for the flame-in-the-hands trick?

Look, I don't see the point in us doing all this.

It might help if we knew what we were looking for.

Perhaps this is it.

Who's have thought the suave Barnaby was once the Great Ralph, eh?

- Why would he keep these? - Small-time conjuring act.

- Look at that. - What?

- What? - The assistant, look.

CROZIER: Pauline Taylor. She must have been about 16.

Hmm, yeah. I checked the talent register. The act folded about 10 years ago.

Assuming it was blackmail,

what was he going to threaten her with? Flashing her legs in nightclubs?

Something to do with the will?

I don't see what.

He couldn't reveal Pauline's past to Mrs Jardine, without revealing his own.

I agree.

But at least it does show there is a connection between Barnaby and Taylor, doesn't it?

Yes. So if it isn't blackmail, what the hell is it?

JIM: There is the possibility of a serious crime, Mr Mackenzie.

Client confidentiality will not cover it, I guaantee you that.

Pauline inherits everything.

Was Mrs Jardine planning to change her will?

Well, was she?

No. There was never any question of changing the will.

Thank you.

And why did Pauline Taylor think thee was?

I have no idea.

I think you have.

The possibility of a bequest to the RSPA may have been mentioned.

- By you. - Yes, all right, if you like. By me.

What about Raoul Barnaby?

- What about Raoul Barnaby? - Could you suggest that he might inherit?

Well, only a fool would believe that and Pauline was no fool.

Yet you tricked her into coming back to live with Mrs Jardine, didn't you?

I encouraged her.

Roberta was very lonely.

I also allowed Pauline to think there was more money than there actually is.

But surely Mrs Jardine was a very wealthy woman, wasn't she?

- Well, she had a lot of expenses. - You among them?

No, Bergerac.

I only ever did the best for Roberta. Professionally and personally.

Still, you know what they say.

(PHONE RINGING)

Yes?

Put it through.

What do they say, Mr Mackenzie?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Hello.

- Barry? - Yeah.

- Where was he found? - Over in the chair.

- Grocery boy found him. - Did you call a doctor?

Yeah, natural causes. Said it could have happened any time.

- Hey, was this whisky here when he was found? - Yeah, as far as I know.

Well, check, would you? And see if you can find his puffer.

- His puffer? - Yeah, he had a breathing aid.

Never went anywhere without it and it's not here.

Well, I didn't know the pension was that good.

Like the man said, she had a lot of expenses.

So his breathing aid's gone and he took a drink. It's not exactly a smoking gun, is it?

But it's another suicide like old Mrs Jardine's, isn't it?

If everything's okay, sir, would you mind signing the work order?

I'm not saying you're wrong. I'm just saying there have got to be easier ways

of doing a jigsaw puzzle than throwing the pieces up in the air and hoping.

Oh, lord, I nearly forgot to give you another message.

Susan called while you were out.

She said would you meet her at Lil's Place tonight when you finish work.

Thanks.

If... If that work order's for the heating, sir, I wouldn't sign it just yet.

That radiator's leaking all over the carpet.

(JIM AND TERRY LAUGHING)

GIRL: # Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall #

Is that you, Pauline?

What is it you want, Ralph?

- I want my money. - Don't be ridiculous.

I can't pay you till the will comes through, can I?

Then I'll take whatever you can raise now.

I haven't got any money. Look, we're home and dry.

Look, don't imagine you can double-cross me, Pauline.

I'm sure the police would be very interested to know you really did murder your aunt.

That she died exactly the way you planned to all the way along.

Uh-huh. And how are you going to explain your part in all of this?

All I did was to unsettle your aunt, using the information which you gave me.

So the only question was, did she overdose accidentally or was it deliberate,

when in fact, she didn't do either.

Now, that's called accessory to murder, Ralph.

Oh, yeah. When you poured that stuff down her throat, I wasn't anywhere near.

Why are you so nervous?

Maybe I'm a genuine psychic.

In the end, even my aunt had spotted you for a phoney.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Why was that, do you suppose?

Maybe she recognised a nightclub act when she saw one

or she had a sneak preview of your book.

You took a lot of liberties, Ralph.

Were you in the chapel this morning?

No. Why should I have been? Stupid risks are your forte, not mine.

Well, somebody was.

The tape's gone missing.

And somebody scratched our symbol on my desk. Now if you didn't do that,

who did?

Bergerac?

Somehow, I don't think so.

I got a strong feeling we should leave this island right away, Pauline.

- Leave? Oh, for God's sake, we're safe. - Safe?

I think that safe is the last thing we are.

Oh, another attack of second-sight, now there's a novelty.

You might put a successful act together yet.

# Sing a song of seasons

# Something bright in all

# Flowers in the summer

# Fires in the fall #

Help me! Help me!

(RINGING)

- Hello. - Peggy, it's Susan Young.

- Oh, hello, Susan. It's Peggy Masters, yes. - Did you manage to tell Jim?

Yes, I gave him your message. He'll meet you at Lil's Place.

About 8:00?

He may be a touch late because there's been some sort of an accident out at Crabbe.

Well, this took more than a match.

So much for second-sight. I'll see you back at the office.

What do you want?

Was it an accident or murder?

It was probably one or the other, yes.

- For a moment there, we thought it was yours. - Thank you.

("EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE" PLAYING)

- Hello, Lil. - Hello, Jim.

Sue not arrived yet?

I haven't seen her since I called in the office to collect the key to my new place.

Oh, can I leave a message?

Actually, I was going to ask you to have a look there sometime

when you've got a moment.

She's already given me the six-minute tour, thank you.

- Did you go into the attic? - Yeah, high point of the excursion.

Wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Well, I think somebody's messing around in there.

Well, it's not me. Honest.

She would pick tonight to be late, wouldn't she?

It's probably kids starting up bonfires in the garden.

Look, I found this today.

- Where'd you get that? - On the windowsill, in the attic,

together with these.

To be honest, it scared me a little being on my own.

If Susan had come out to help me like she promised...

What? She promised to help you? But I had a message to meet her at Lil's Place.

Oh, I see. Good God.

Lil?

Lil, it's me.

Lil?

(GASPS)

Lil?

(SUSAN SCREAMING)

Oh, God!

- I don't know. - Pete, can you come upstairs in a minute?

The Jardines' boy is still alive, isn't he?

This was his house.

It's still his house.

I'm selling it for him, for the trust that his mother set up.

Is he one of the expenses you mentioned?

Well, private sanatoriums in Switzerland aren't cheap.

And there never was a suicide?

He did try to do it, poor boy.

He did pour petrol over himself and set light to it.

But he didn't die.

Roberta got to him in time.

Well, she saved him, I mean...

She smuggled him out of the country and she invented the cover story.

- All with your help. - All without anyone's help.

Make no mistake, I mean, I would've helped if she'd asked.

But she loved the boy too much to trust anyone with his safety.

Even her husband didn't know he was alive.

You know, it broke his heart, poor chap. Yeah.

- But she did tell you, eventually. - Years afterwards.

And then only because she needed my help in setting up a trust fund for the boy.

So it was a double-blind, was it?

An undertaker who provided the body

and a police officer who didn't ask too many awkward questions.

- What else? - A light plane.

Medical assistance waiting in Fance.

And nobody knew?

Only she... Only she and I knew the whole story.

And that's why the old lady reacted as she did at the last séance, was it?

I mean, you don't get spirit messages from people who are still alive.

So, my mad cousin is, you say, running around the island in some sort of theatrical costume,

killing people?

Jack Plemont and Raoul Barnaby, so far.

So far? Well, shouldn't you be trying to catch him?

Oh, we'll catch him, all right, Miss Taylor, eventually.

We catch most killers, eventually.

In the meantime, I'd take a little extra care. You know, lock your doors.

And your windows.

Don't go out alone.

Why? Do you think I've got something to fear from him?

He seems to be after people he believed deliberately hurt his mother.

Sergeant, what happened between my aunt and myself

can't possibly be construed in that way.

Oh, surely.

He does seem to have an almost

supernatural knowledge of what people have done, though, hasn't he?

Really, Sergeant.

- How well did you know Raoul Barnaby? - I didn't know him at all.

You never met him before? I mean, before the séances.

- What are you getting at? - Oh, just routine questions, that's all.

Sergeant, I do not make a habit out of associating with con men.

Grew out if it, did you?

Now, somehow, Malcolm Croxted's got hold of a copy of that.

And I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to stop it getting into the newspaper.

Well then, you'll have to give me police protection, won't you?

Oh, I'm sory, we can't do that. Sorry.

- Sergeant Bergerac, I insist that you protect me. - Look, I've told you. It's impossible.

I'm really very sorry.

- Oh, my God, he's there. - Oh, come now, Miss Taylor.

You know, my daughter once thought she saw a ghost.

At your aunt's funeral.

Must be the autumn.

It's a haunted time, isn't it? The autumn.

You're not in any danger at the moment. The picture has not been published yet.

Perhaps we should talk when it has.

- Sergeant Bergeac. - Yes, Miss Taylor?

You got something to say?

Thank you, Barry.

- Make a good ghost, don't I? - You will do, if you keep pulling stunts like that.

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

- It's gross incompetence! - If you say so and you probably will.

Well, what would you call it?

- Puzzling. - Puzzling?

Despite all your efforts to catch him,

he manages to get himself back to his Swiss sanatorium. I don't call that puzzling.

Neither do I.

What is puzzling is that the sanatorium authorities are absolutely convinced he never left.