Downloaded from www.opensubtitles.org
Liam? (LAUGHS) What are you doing with that?
Liam?
Liam!
Written in blood
Bye, Mr Hadleigh! Have a nice evening, then!
'Phoenix turned and fired twice, the 35mm bullets spitting out
and splintering the brickwork two inches from the Russian thug's shoulder.'
'A moment later came the reply of the Uzi semi-automatic, and Phoenix twisted round.'
Mrs Bundy?
Mrs Bundy!
'Her lips, searching the sapphire, honey-scented darkness, found his -
cool, forceful, unresisting - and as the frozen waves crashed down...'
Afternoon, Mrs Hutton! -Oh! Afternoon, Mrs Bundy.
Got your meeting?
Yes. Is Gerald - -Mr Hadleigh. Is he in?
Yes. You'll be the first. -Will I? Oh, right.
'He pulled her towards him, his powerful hands tearing at the fabric of her Gaultier nightshirt.'
'Scum-bag! Scum-bag! Scum-bag! Scum!'
'The repetitive beat of the inner-city drum.'
'Scum-bag! Scum-bag! Scum-bag!'
Yes!
What is that? -It's Hector. My dragon.
I thought I'd take him to the writers' group.
Ye Gods, woman, you're not serious?
How's it going?
It was going very well until you interrupted me.
'Scum-bag. Scum-bag.'
It's a bit repetitive, isn't it? -Yes, it is. That's the point!
'In 1887, Sebastian Lyddiard, great-grandson of Herbert Lyddiard, who'd served against Napoleon -
We ought to go, Honoria. We're going to be late.
They can wait.
I've almost finished the 19th century.
Oh, I am pleased.
Sebastian Lyddiard, Edward Lyddiard, the Rt Hon William Lyddiard, George Lyddiard,
Herbert Lyddiard, Henry Lyddiard, and then...
Ralph.
Yes. Ralph Lyddiard.
Do you ever regret marrying him, Amy?
Do you ever think that, but for you, he might still be alive?
No.
Well, I do.
The question is, which writer do we invite to address us?
What about Jilly Cooper? -I thought he said a writer! Hur-hur.
Could we interest Frederick Forsyth?
I rather doubt it. It's a wonderful idea, Gerald!
Since you're writing a thriller, he'd be first-rate.
He'd never come - he'd pretend he didn't have time. They always do.
What about Max Jennings?
What? Max Jennings.
Why him? What do you mean?
Who is Max Jennings?
You know, that bestseller I was reading. Far Away Hills.
No. No. No!
I'm the er...chairman of this group. I don't want him here.
Why not?
I... I don't think he's very good.
Look, what about... Alan Bennett?
Tried him last year.
Jeffrey Archer? Vulgar.
Look, it's getting late. I've got a class tomorrow. Let's take a vote.
Max Jennings.
I say no. I'm against it.
That makes no difference. It's a majority vote.
Max Jennings it is!
It's from something called The Midsomer Worthy Writers' Circle.
They want me to give them a talk.
You're not going to go, are you?
The letter's from a Brian Clapper. It has a letterhead.
Chairman... Gerald Hadleigh!
Do you know him?
Isn't it a bit early for that? -No. I'm awake!
Gerald Hadleigh!
They've invited me on July 1.
I thought you had to be in Dusseldorf. Or was it Denmark?
I'm in Denmark on the 2nd.
You don't want to go to a boring writers' circle!
As a matter of fact... I do.
Yes.
As a matter of fact... I do.
WOMAN: You're going to be late.
Yes, really quite a treat.
I've got a couple of burglaries, a car theft...
Nothing much to hurry in for.
Without a murder soon, you'll get tetchy.
No, I won't. See? You already are.
No, I am not! DOORBELL I'll get it.
Cully! Dad, hi!
Aren't you going to Poland?
We are. This is Brad, by the way.
Hello, Brad. We've only got a minute.
Come in, come in. Your mum's in.
Does he talk? Shhhh!
So we join the group in Paris, then go on by train.
Will they understand Much Ado About Nothing in Poland?
It's Shakespeare. He's understood everywhere.
The way Brad's directed it is very - Non-verbal?
What brings you out here, darling?
Pleased as we are to see you.
It's got nothing to do with that wicker basket you're hiding, has it?
You would notice, wouldn't you?
His name's Kilmouski. He's a Russian blue.
Is it yours? -Yeah, I adopted him.
And now you need NEW foster parents.
Well, it's just while I'm away.He's very clean. He won't be any trouble.
I'll bring you some Polish vodka.
Hello. Oh - Honoria!
Are you all right?
Yes, I'm fine.
No, you're crying.
No, it's hay fever. Hmm.
Can I help you, Honoria?
You said you had some more papers in. Navy News?
Oh, yes. Yes, they're over here.
What a pretty table. You have so many pretty things.
It must come from being in trade. -Yes.
They're from the '70s - '78 and '79. Is that of any interest?
They might be, indeed.
PHONE RINGS Excuse me.
The Spinning Wheel. How can I help you?
We don't often get many of those. You could try Causton.
Well, I'll be blowed!
If you leave me your number, if I see one I'll let you know.
Honoria?
Amy! Can I give you a hand?
Oh, no, I'm all right. Just getting the shopping.
Amy... -Are you all right, Gerald?
No. As a matter of fact, I'm not.
The thing is... I'm afraid.
Afraid?
Max Jennings.
The writer who's coming tonight. What about him?
I knew him. A long time ago.
Amy, I... I want you to do me a favour.
Don't leave the two of us together. Not for one minute.
Would you promise me that? -Why, yes, of course.
When you say a book is 'true', I don't think it has to be literally 'the truth'.
That's not what writing's all about.
You take the truth and you spin something from it.
You're creating something new; you're not recording something old.
Anyway, I've been talking long enough now, so in conclusion I would just like to say this.
Writers need stamina.
We need a wayfaring mind! Nothing should be beneath our attention.
But, above all, we need luck.
And that's what I wish all of you. Thank you.
I can't stay very long. I'm flying off tomorrow.
But are there any questions?
Actually, I do have a question.
Yes?
You were talking about the truth. In fiction.
So I'd be interested to know...
Where do you get your ideas?
Mainly from experience.
Well, that's interesting.
Because, you see, I don't have any experience that I can write about. Not now.
I'd like to ask something.
How do you manage to make your characters so real?
I worked as a psychiatrist before I took up writing.
So I feel...that I know people.
I wonder if your characters ever surprise you.
In what way? -Well, you think you know them.
You think they're one thing, then they turn out to disappoint you completely.
I suppose that can happen, yes.
Anyone else?
I'm writing a children's book. -Oh, yes?
It's about...a dragon called Hector. -Ahem!
My husband's writing a play.
Actually, I'd say I was... building it.
For me it's a totally passe word. And elitist.
Which word? -What?
Which word is elitist?
Building? Writing? Or playing?
Writing. You know, we're...
rapping. We're improvising - free association!
You should come to one of my rehearsals, Max!
You might find it... dangerous.
I'd love to, but unfortunately I have to go. I have a long journey tomorrow.
Thank you very much for inviting me.
It's been a most...
instructive evening.
You're leaving? -Yes.
That's all right. We can all go together.
Well, goodbye, Gerald.
Thank you for inviting me.
I didn't.
It was good to see you anyway.
Mr Jennings... I'm on my way.
There is something I do want to know.
Who should I approach once my history's finished?
I don't want it published by just any old firm.
I'm not the person to ask, Mrs -
MISS Lyddiard.
My contacts are in the field of fiction.
Really? To be frank, we expected a broader range of knowledge. Honoria...!
Stupid of me, but I seem to have forgotten my gloves. I'll say good night.
How very rude!
We've got to go back in. -What?
I promised Gerald! What did you promise him?
What does it matter, anyway? -Gerald and Max -
It's late. We're going home. Now!
Your gloves.
Any chance of a nightcap? -I thought you were flying out. To a signing session (!)
Gerald - What are you doing?
Why did you come here? I came to see YOU.
Mr Hadleigh?
Hello?
Can you move these people back? There's nothing to see.
Morning, Troy. Morning, sir.
You got a name? Gerald Hadleigh - if it is him.
He's not quite recognisable.
It's just in here, sir.
Oh, where the blood and the police photographers are (?) Thanks, Troy!
Morning, Tom. Morning.
(GULPS) Do we have the weapon?
It's bagged up. In the bedroom with a candlestick!
I'd say between 11:00 last night and 1:00am.
It doesn't look as if he put up much of a struggle.
And there's the clothes question. He's not wearing any.
Whoever did it was in a hell of a temper. Killed him with one blow and went on bashing.
Yes, George, I saw that.
Did you notice the cupboard, sir?
If you mean the cupboard that seems to have been emptied - yes.
OK, so where's this cleaning lady of yours?
I've never... No, I've never seen...
I mean, you know...
a dead person before.
You all right to carry on?
Now, let's start with this morning.
Well, the house was in a bit of a mess. It was stuff left from last night. Some sort of writers' evening.
Was there anything unusual? -Yeah. He..
... his wife's photograph.
She's dead, and he always kept it in the same place. Just there.
When I come in this morning, it was moved. -So where was it?
Someone had put it in the drawer.
Did you ever meet her? No.
He never talked about his wife. He was a very... private man.
So you came into the house, you noticed the photograph, and then you went upstairs?
I knew there was something wrong.
Did you go into the bedroom?
Of course I didn't go in! Do you think I'm mad?
I took one look and I saw him stark naked on the carpet with his head bashed in and I scarpered!
Of course I didn't bloody go in!
So, she didn't go in.
Yes, I think we have established that, Troy.
Maybe it was opportunistic. A thief caught unawares.
He could have been surprised and just panicked.
See that Rolex watch by the bedside?
Yeah. A sneak thief would hardly leave that behind.
Now, what about these writers?
There were six of them. Brian and Sue...Clapper. Amy and Honoria Lyddiard - sisters-in-law.
Laura Hutton owns the antique shop.
And a visiting writer. Mrs Bundy didn't know who.
Any addresses? The Clappers live over there.
He's a teacher at Causton Comprehensive.
We'll start with them. And I'd like to know what car Hadleigh drove.
Why? -The garage, Troy. It's empty.
Poor Gerald! So hard to believe.
How would you describe Gerald Hadleigh last night? Was he happy? Sad?
Tense. Definitely tense. I thought he and Laura had had a row.
They were usually so close, but last night she was frosty. Or maybe it was to do with Jennings.
Gerald was dead against his coming.
Max Jennings was the visiting writer? -Yes. Brian - that's my husband -
had to invite him because Gerald wouldn't.
How well did you know Gerald Hadleigh?
Not very well. Nobody did.
He'd already been here a couple of years before us.
He was a very quiet man. -Did you know his wife?
No. He never spoke about her. I asked him once. He got quite upset.
Did you happen to see Max Jennings leave after the meeting?
No.
What about your husband?
Brian... and I...We went to bed straightaway. Brian was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow. Sound asleep.
Did YOU sleep?
Not immediately. And I did hear a car pull away a little after midnight.
Maybe it was Gerald Hadleigh's car.
No. His car had just been stolen in Causton.
She was lying about her husband.
Which is why we must try to get to him first, before she reaches him.
Causton Comprehensive. (SIGHS) -You have a problem?
I went there, sir. '83 to '90.
Pity they didn't teach you how to drive!
That's the library. Science block... I hoped I'd never come back.
You weren't happy here? -I couldn't wait to get out!
Here! I know you, don't I? -Gavin Troy.
Hello, Mr Belgrove.
Who are you, then? Chief Inspector Barnaby. Police.
Oh, yeah. Always said he'd come to no good.
A bit late bringing him back here, though!
See what I mean?
And now, gently on the knees. Bend those knees up and down.
And shake it out!Shake it out! You're shaking a piece of sticky tape off your fingers.
Remember, making pictures now. Adventure! Explore!
Reach out... Reveal.
Mm, interesting warm-up technique, Edie. Hur-hur!
Thanks, Brian. TITTERING
OK... Gather round, earthlings!
Whoo! Right, we're two acts down.
We've done good work, but we need something for the end of the play.
Who can tell me what we need? -I need a fag.
Good one, Denzel (!)
All right, all right, I'll tell you what we need. It's called... a coup de theatre.
A coup de theatre. The big scene! The wrap!
♪ I was walking down the street The other day Right, OK. Now, think.
Get into character if it helps. -Drop dead, you scum-bag!
What?! -It's my character, Bri. Remember?
Er, yes. Careful now! No, not there!
No, ple-Mr Clapper! -That's enough!
Mr Clapper!! -What is it, Miss Planter!
Some policemen have just arrived. They want to have a word.
Evening, all. Ahem! Right, um... I'll be right back.
Just think coup de theatre. See if you can surprise me.
Dead?!
God, I was actually there, you know. Yesterday!
Yes. We already spoke to your wife.
Yeah?
Well, I'm sure she wouldn't have told you anything. How can I help you?
What can you tell me about this visiting writer, Max Jennings?
A reactionary fossil. Not a clue about modern drama.
Hardly surprising, when you see the stuff he turns out.
You don't like his books, sir? -Haven't read 'em.
But it was you who invited him. -Only because Gerald got so uptight -yes.
You've no idea WHY he was so upset? -I never asked him, no.
Did you see him at all in the hours before the writers' group met? -He wasn't in.
I saw Honoria Lyddiard knocking at his door, about four.
She wasn't getting any reply.
Can you tell us anything about his background?
He was a civil servant who'd taken early retirement -
a platinum handshake and a fat pension. I had no time for people like him.
Oh, I'm sure (!)Can we get back to yesterday evening?
What time did you leave the group? -I would have thought my wife would have told you.
10:15. -And you went straight home?
Yes, and straight to sleep.
Are you quite sure about that? -My yea is my yea and my nay is my nay, Inspector!
And I've just told you I didn't go out. Hur-hur-hur!
Gresham House
Honoria Lyddiard's home.
Have you seen Frankenstein, sir? No.
This must be where they filmed it.
Can't you read? No hawkers, no circulars.
Go away! I shall call the police.
Mrs Lyddiard? Miss Lyddiard. Yes.
We ARE the police. Causton CID.
There's very little I can tell you. I hardly knew Gerald Hadleigh.
It seems hardly anyone in the village did, Miss Lyddiard.
I saw him at the writers' circle, that's all.
You were seen at his house on the afternoon of his death. Knocking at the door.
Are you suggesting this horrible business has anything to do with me?
I'd agreed to help with the food. Gerald said he'd contribute.
I went to collect the money.
Honoria, have you heard - ? Oh.
These people are from the police.
And you are...? Amy Lyddiard. Honoria's sister-in-law.
So it's true about Gerald.
We are investigating a murder, Mrs Lyddiard, yes.
Oh, dear!
Did you both come back here after the writers' evening?
Yes. We drove home together.
And then? I retired straightaway. I had a headache.
The visitor, Max Jennings, had been allowed to smoke. Disgusting habit.
And you, Mrs Lyddiard?
Not quite straightaway. I... made us drinks.
Um, cocoa, actually.
They don't want every detail of our domestic life.
I'm sorry. Why not tell them how much sugar you put in too?
I'll say good day. -I'm sorry?
I'm a Lyddiard. As is my late brother's wife.
Our name is woven into the very warp and woof of England. Above reproach.
Pursue your enquiries elsewhere.
Warp and what? -Woof.
Honoria adored my husband, Chief Inspector.
Her brother... that's him there.
After he died I had no money, so she let me live with her.
I do some light housework in return. Well, most of it, really.
Thank you.
Mrs Lyddiard, what can you tell me about Gerald Hadleigh?
He was terrified of... of meeting Max Jennings.
Oh, Chief Inspector. This is all my fault!
He asked me not to leave the two of them together. Not for a minute!
And I promised him. -Gerald Hadleigh?
Yes! He said...he was frightened.
And I said I'd stay. But then everything went wrong.
Why? What happened?
We were the last to leave - Honoria, Max Jennings and me. Then...
'I seem to have forgotten my gloves.'
How very rude!
We've got to go back in.
'I wanted to go back in, but Honoria was in a hurry to leave.'
So I left him. On his own!
Mrs Lyddiard, can you remember who first suggested inviting Jennings?
That was me!
God! How can people live like that?
Amy Lyddiard hasn't got a choice.
I wonder what she'd do to get away?
What's the matter with you? -Nothing, Honoria.
It's just all been so sudden.
Afraid I can't help you, Mr Barnaby.
My husband isn't here. He flew to Denmark after that writers'...thing.
Signing books. Max is very big in Denmark.
Did he come back here after the writers' group meeting?
No. It was easier to overnight at Heathrow.
Do you remember the name of the airline? -No.
Do you know how to reach him? -No. Have to ask his secretary.
Bouncing Barbara! She made the reservations.
Do you know where we can get in touch with her?
No, not really. Will you excuse me? I really don't think is... (SLURS) ..do with me.
Aren't you coming to bed? -No. I'm not sleepy. I'm going out.
You were out last night too. -You didn't tell THEM that?
Who? -Dixon of Dock Green and his fascist sidekick.
No. Trying to trick me into -
Trick you into what? -Doesn't matter.
You didn't tell them? -No. But you were out last night.
Where did you go? -Round the Green. Blow the cobwebs.
Then why didn't you tell THEM that? Why did you have to lie?
Oh, forget it. Just forget it!
Morning, sir. Good morning.
I've got that information on Hadleigh's car.
A blue Celica. Registration Papa 844 Alpha Papa Charlie, reported stolen between 9:00 and 11:00 in Causton.
Who reported it? He did - from home. It was logged at five to midnight.
Doesn't that strike you as odd? -What?
The car is stolen between 9:00 and 11:00 in Causton, but he doesn't report it for an hour.
And why wait till he gets home?
Oh, there was also Max Jennings. I checked all the flights to Denmark from London, and all the ferries.
He wasn't on any of them.
What was the name of his secretary? -Bouncing Barbara!
I look after all Max's paperwork. VAT returns, fan mail, book signings...
Appearances...
Wouldn't it be easier to work at his house?
Max keeps his business and his private life separate.
Did YOU book his flight to Denmark? -No.
Usually I would, but for some reason Max said he'd do that one himself.
And the hotel? Yes. I can't think why.
I did ask, but he told me to forget it.
Was he meeting his publisher?
I don't know.I really can't help you. Max didn't say anything.
The Midsomer Worthy Writers' Circle. Did he mention it?
Yes, he told me he was going.
Half a dozen amateurs in a little village? Hardly worth it for a writer like Jennings.
That's what I thought, but... he knew one of them. -Gerald Hadleigh.
Yes. That was the name. Max said he wanted to see him.
Were they friends? -I don't think so.
I got the feeling... Max was afraid of him.
So which way round was it?
Amy Lyddiard says Gerald Hadleigh was afraid of Max Jennings.
Now his secretary says it was Jennings who was afraid of Hadleigh!
Maybe they were afraid of each other. -That's very helpful (!)
She's certainly scared of something.
I reckon she's having it away with him. She knows he did it, she knows where he is, and she's hiding it.
You all right? Yes.
It could be your washing powder. -Yes, thank you, Troy!
I still haven't met anyone who KNEW Gerald Hadleigh.
He had a wife. What was her name? What did she die of? Where did he come from?
There's still Laura Hutton to question.
And Clapper reckons her and Hadleigh could have been banging each other.
What a delightfully picturesque turn of phrase (!)
Right. Back to Midsomer Worthy, and this time I'll drive.
I didn't really know Gerald, you know? I'm sorry.
We met once a month at the writers' group and that was all.
Just out of interest,what sorts of books were you all writing, Mrs Hutton?
Gerald was writing a spy thriller. Sue, a children's book. Brian, a rather dreadful play.
Amy wasn't writing anything, though she did talk about poetry.
And of course there's Honoria and her family history.
She's always in and out of here.
She came in that afternoon. About 4:00, the afternoon before it happened.
What for? Old magazines.
London Illustrated News, Life Magazine, Navy News...
She's fanatical about it! Anything to do with her family
or her brother Ralph in particular. In fact, she stole one of those.
Do you know which one?
Mm - June '78. They're in order. She probably found another cutting for her book.
And what about you, Mrs Hutton? -I'm sorry?
What are YOU writing? -I was writing a romance.
Did you show it to Gerald Hadleigh? -Why do you ask?
Oh, of course I know people talk about me and Gerald, Gerald and me.
It's a village. One expects that sort of thing.
And it's true that I did find Gerald quite... attractive.
But he never once reciprocated my feelings.
We have been told there was some tension between you and Mr Hadleigh
on the night of his death. Who told you that?
Please, Mrs Hutton? -Very well.
I'm a broad-minded person. What Gerald did in his own time was his affair.
After all, he was a man.
I happened be to passing his house the night before we met for the writers' circle.
'I'm a bad sleeper, and I often go out walking late at night.'
'That night - ten to twelve, maybe a little earlier - that was when I saw it.'
'A woman arrived in a Causton cab, paid the driver, got out and walked towards Gerald's house.'
'I thought she'd ring the bell, but she let herself in. She had a key!'
She was quite obviously a prostitute!
How can you be sure? Oh... her clothes!
The way she walked! -What happened?
Now, I'm not normally a nosy person. 'But I have to admit,I was aroused.'
'My curiosity, that is.'
'I went a little closer, and that was when I saw them.'
'He'd given her a glass of wine, and... she was toasting him and laughing!'
I didn't mind Gerald rejecting me, but to think of him turning to that -
You were angry. No, I wasn't angry! I was disappointed.
You didn't by any chance go back there the following evening, after the writers' meeting?
Well, as a matter of fact I did. I couldn't sleep, so I went out.
'At 12:30.' 'I arrived just in time to see Max Jennings leave.'
'He'd had too much to drink. He took quite a while getting into the car.'
Did you see Gerald Hadleigh?
No, but a light was on in what I imagine was his bedroom.
'Anyway, I was just about to leave when I saw...'
It was Brian Clapper!
And... he went home?
I don't know. He could have gone anywhere. I left!
I didn't want to be seen outside Gerald's house so late at night.
It could have been misconstrued.
So how's the play going, Mr Clapper?
Well, obviously all these interruptions...
You didn't tell us what it was called.
Slang-Whang For Five Mute Voices. Working title.
It's very demanding, but they're great kids. Some real talent.
The Carters, especially - Edie. And Tom. They're terrific.
Life's stacked against them, but they never give up! The girl, especially. Edie...
There was just one detail we wanted to get straight. -Oh, yes?
You told us that you went home at 10:15 - and went straight to bed. -Yes.
We have a witness who says they saw you returning home some time after midnight.
What?! You are aware this is a murder investigation?
Yes. Well, that night, um...
Right. I did go out, yes. For a drive.
Blow the cobwebs. Don't know why I forgot to mention it.
Did you see anyone outside Plover's Rest?
No. Yes. There was someone.
'But I didn't see them.' I was sort of, um... behind the car, you see.
And someone did walk past. I didn't see who it was.
Can you tell us actually where you went that night, sir? No.
You weren't on your way to some sort of... tryst?
Tryst?! No, of course not!
I was walking. Just walking.
I woke up and I went for a wank - walk.
Oh, yes! (SNICKERS)
Did they arrest you, Brian? Are you a suspect?
I bet you did it. Was it the money? He's the killer! Aagghhh!
All right. Now get up, get up! Just sit down!
Now. Ahem! We've only got a few minutes left.
So how's this scene of yours coming on? -You mean our coup de theatre?
We've been, er... working on it. -I don't see much evidence of it.
We meet again next Friday.
If you haven't got anything by then, I'll have to write it for you...!
Edie? -Brian, can I have a word?
Yeah, sure. What is it?
I really need to talk to you.
Well, that's what I'm here for. Hur-hur!
Oh... come on! Off!
It's a wonderful book.
No wonder it sold so well. You should read it.
I gave it to you.
Well, it's the story of a young boy - an Irish boy.
'His name is Liam Hanlon.' 'Liam lives on a farm, near Durrow in southern Ireland.'
'It's a horrible life. He's abused by his father sexually.'
Liam...
'Aged 13, Liam shoots his father with his own shotgun and runs away.'
Liam!!!
'He meets a man, an artist.'
They travel together, first in Europe and then Turkey. Oh - the far away hills.
Jennings has a wonderful way with language. Listen.
Is it autobiographical? -It reads that way.
Liam has bought a flat by the Albert Hall. -How did he get the money?
From the artist. He's painted him in historical dress and they've made a fortune.
Anyway, listen.
'He lies on the bed, the cushion cool against his neck,
and traces his past against the mouldings on the ceiling.'
John...! Must have got the flu from Troy. Go on. It's good. PHONE RINGS
You'd better get that. Sorry.
Yes. I'm on my way.
They've found Max Jennings.
He's inside, sir. -Oh, surprise me, Troy (!)
A bit far afield for you, George.
It's my case too, Tom, and I fancied a day by the sea.
So did he, by the look of things. So what do you think?
He's been dead 48 hours. Poison?
Maybe. Look at the eyes. Bilateral ptosis, and there's a bit of pigmentation at the hair root.
Are you all right? -Yeah. -That's a nasty rash on your neck.
I suppose that's it, then. -That's what, Troy?
The end of the case. -What do you mean?
We already know that Gerald Hadleigh and Max Jennings knew each other.
It must have been a feud that got out of control. Jennings bludgeoned Hadleigh to death,
then when he realised what he'd done he came here and ended it rather than face the music.
That's what you think, is it? -Er, yes.
Well, I don't.
'Who was Gerald Hadleigh?' 'What was he before he came to the village?'
'Whatever happened to his still nameless wife?'
It's like... a blank jigsaw. We've got some of the pieces, but not even the start of a picture.
Let's take the day Gerald Hadleigh died.
Honoria Lyddiard visits Laura Hutton.
'And she steals a newspaper. She actually steals it!'
If you leave me your phone number...
'We know from Brian Clapper that she went straight to Gerald Hadleigh.'
The meeting isn't until 7:30, Honoria!
'She said it was to do with the catering.' 'It was a bit late to worry about the food!'
'At the end of the evening, why did Max Jennings go back in the house?'
'Why didn't Amy Lyddiard stop him?'
I promised Gerald.
'And if Jennings did kill him, how about the empty cupboard and the missing suitcase?
What was taken?' 'And why was Hadleigh naked when he died?'
'And we still have to think about the night before the murder.'
Thanks, love.
'This woman Laura Hutton claims she saw. Who was she?'
'And if Laura Hutton was in love with Gerald Hadleigh,
was she jealous enough to bash his head in for unrequited love?'
I want you to check every minicab in Causton till you find the one that dropped off
the blonde woman on the 31st.
Do a background on Gerald Hadleigh, and do the same for Max Jennings.
On my desk, 9:00 tomorrow. Sir.
It's time we got to work.
You all right, sir? -Yes.
What news on Hadleigh? -We've got no record of his marriage,
no birth certificate and the civil service has never heard of him.
What is he, then? The invisible man? How about the taxi driver?
We're still looking. There is one thing. We found his car, the Celica.
A straightforward TDA. Wrecked and dumped in the river. That's something.
Oh, and Barbara Neale's here. Bouncing Barbara.
I hope you realise I could have you charged with obstruction.
I didn't mean to. I didn't want to but what else could I do?
You could have told us the truth! And saved us all a lot of time.
That seaside cottage was booked for two, wasn't it? Max Jennings - and you!
All right. When did it start?
Um, Max used to be a psychiatrist before he was a writer.
I was his receptionist. Then I was his secretary.
And then...
We'd been seeing each other for two years.
You knew he was dead, didn't you?
Tell me.
There was no Denmark. That was just what we told Selina.
The plan was, we were going to meet there. At the cottage.
'He'd gone down the night before, and I followed.'
'It was easier for us to go down separately.'
Max?
'I got there about... lunchtime.'
Maxie, darling? You're not in bed already...!
Maxie? Max?
'He was lying there on the bed. I thought he must have had a heart attack.'
I never dreamt... What more could I do?
I couldn't tell you about him without telling about us.
Nobody knew. Nobody.
We could have saved 48 hours if she'd been straight with u-
What is wrong with me? - Sir? -WHAT?
Gerald Hadleigh. We've found his solicitor.
What sort of man was Gerald Hadleigh, Mr Jocelyne?
Well, he was a very private man. Unusually reserved.
But we looked after his legal affairs for him,
including the purchase of Plover's Rest seven years ago.
Do you know where Gerald Hadleigh came from?
London. I can't tell you more. Though he did retain a property there.
How do you know?
We handled a purchase. Though no sale.
More details will come in once we have probate.
You're handling his will as well? -Oh, yes, that's right, yes!
We'd be grateful for any details. -Ah, well, I...
This is a murder investigation, Mr Jocelyne.
Er, quite.
It's very straightforward. The bulk of his fortune went to the St Martin's School of Art.
He wished to endow two scholarships.
Was a lot of money involved? -Oh, yes, indeed!
How much, exactly?
In cash?
At least two and a half million pounds.
What?!
Are there any personal bequests? -Oh, yes, indeed. Let us see.
Here we are. Now, then... He left L500 to a Mrs Bundy. His cleaner.
And L10,000 to the local cricket team.
Oh, yes. He left a picture - an oil painting! - to a Mrs Laura Hutton.
And a somewhat larger sum of L100,000.
Who to?
L100,000?! Well, goodness!
Did you know that Mr Hadleigh was planning to leave you something?
Well, he did sometimes joke about it.
He said it would amuse him to 'rescue' me from Honoria.
When did you come to live here?
It was after Ralph died.
We had a little house in Spain. We were trying to make a life there.
But Ralph got ill. I wrote to Honoria, of course.
The next day, she just arrived!
She nursed him - she did everything. It was as if I wasn't there.
After Ralph died, she talked to the doctors, she brought his body home.
I didn't have a penny. There was nothing I could do.
And you can tell us no more about Gerald Hadleigh on that night?
I wish I'd gone back. I should have. I promised him.
But you didn't.
I told you, I was making us hot drinks. Honoria had hers in the study.
I had mine in bed. It's the warmest room in the house.
Will you leave, now you have money?
Oh, yes, of course. I hate it here. I can, can't I? I'm rich!
Why haven't you started lunch?
These officers have come to give me some news, Honoria. Good news.
That's of no interest to me.
As a matter of fact, we did want to ask you something, Miss Lyddiard.
What?- It's a detail, but I'd be interested to know.
What was it you saw in the Navy News you took from Mrs Hutton's shop?
I suppose she told you about that. Do you deny it?
We just want to know what was in it.
It was on page five. A picture of the Leicester. -That was Ralph's ship.
Exactly. I took it for my book.
Could I see it? Just out of interest?
This is it, here.
Ralph rose to be a Sub-Lieutenant. He received two commendations.
He would have been an admiral. There.
'On leave in Antalya.' Hm.
I don't see what bearing it has on your case.
As I said, it's just out of interest.
That doesn't get us anywhere. -Oh, I don't know.
There was something she said. -Honoria?
No, not Honoria. Amy.
Here. Let me do that.
I must talk to you. Must you?
I've decided to leave.
What?!
I've had enough. I'm going. -No, you can't.
Yes, I can.
I promised Ralph I'd look after you.
You're not interested in me. It's Ralph you want, and he's dead.
Keeping me here won't bring him back.
Don't talk to me about Ralph. -He was my husband.
If you'd loved him he'd not have died.
I'll leave tomorrow. It's for the best.
No. You're a Lyddiard. Blood and bone.
What?!
Blood and bone, that's what counts. Blood counts! Bone counts!
I'm sorry, Honoria. -No!
I want to look after you.
I want to see you. I need to have you here.
Laura, what's happening? -I'm closed. I'm leaving.
Leaving the village? But why?
I used to think that if you loved someone for long enough, they wouldn't be able to help loving you back.
I was very foolish. Gerald.
That was his. He left it to me.
It's beautiful. -It's a Hilton Conninx.
One of the series of historical boys he painted in the '50s.
It's very valuable, but I'll never sell it. It reminds me of him.
His name's Baker. He's over there, sir.
Thank you.
Yeah, I picked her up. It was just after 11:00.
She told me to drive to Midsomer Worthy, then pointed out the house.
Other than that, she never said a word.
Can you tell me anything else?
She was an ugly woman. Tall, a lot of make-up. Nice legs, though.
Where did you pick her up?
On the corner, just over there.
Thank you very much.
She could have come from anywhere.
Didn't you listen to him?
It could explain the empty wardrobe. And why Hadleigh had no clothes on.
And maybe the photograph of his dead wife too.
What, you think this woman took his clothes?
No. No, I don't. This is what we're looking for.
Er... what is this place? -What do you think?
(MALE VOICE) We're not open yet!
(LAUGHS) I thought Troy was going to have a seizure! It was very funny.
So Gerald Hadleigh was a transvestite. -Yeah.
He parked his car near the club, then he must have gone back to it in full woman's dress.
But it wasn't there. He couldn't walk into CID dressed as he was.
That's why he didn't report it stolen till he got home.
And the woman Laura Hutton saw?
Wasn't a woman at all.
'But she saw Gerald Hadleigh and the woman having a drink.'
'That's what she thought she saw.'
'There was a mirror in there. I'd guess what Laura Hutton saw was Gerald Hadleigh -
toasting himself on his escape.'
My glands are swollen. -You're not looking at all well.
Shouldn't you see the doctor?
I'll see how I feel when I wake up.
Oh, hi, Bri. I'm so glad you came.
Well, if you need my help... Hur-hur!
I do. Come in.
Here you are, Bri. -What is it?
Thunderbolt. Mixed wine. Apples and lemons and all that.
Oh. Cheers.
Um, are we... on our own?
Mum's out. With Tom.
So, then, young Edie... What can I do for you? Hur-hur-hur!
Let's sit down.
It's the play, Brian. I'm nervous.
I can't stand up in front of all those people. -Of course you can!
My accent's all wrong. -No, no, it's perfect.
You're perfect. Believe me.
I don't like the character. She really gets on my tits.
Yes.
Please say you'll help me, Brian. I need you tell me I'm going to be all right.
Oh, God, you're more than all right. You're fantastic. You're the best!
You don't know how I've dreamed of this.
Oh, Brian! Oh, Edie!
This just came for you.
It's a bit early for the post.
Wasn't in the post. Hand-delivered. No stamp.
Did you see who delivered it? -Didn't look.
Oh, did I tell you? Laura Hutton's leaving the village. Very suddenly!
Oh, and I spoke to Amy, too. You won't believe it.
It's a miracle!-For God's sake, woman!
(Will you just shut up?) -What? What is it?
I got that report from Dr Bullard. It was poison that killed Max Jennings.
It looks like he had it in a glass of wine. -Valium sulphate.
Administered 12 hours before he died.
That was when he was with Gerald Hadleigh. Mm.
Valium sulphate's a slow-acting poison.
Hadleigh could have slipped it into Jennings' drink at Plover's Rest.
Jennings could have attacked Hadleigh without realising he was already dying himself.
But the clothes. Why take the clothes?
Somebody didn't want us to know he was a gender bender.
Chief Inspector Barnaby. Chief Inspector, James Jocelyne here.
Of Jocelyne, Tibbles and Delaney. -Yes, Mr Jocelyne?
"I mentioned to you that Mr Hadleigh had a property in London."
I've just received various documents from the bank.
Do you have an address? Well, yes! That's why I telephoned.
So, you got here, then? -Yes. Ahem!
So what's all this about, then?
This is some sort of... joke, right?
I don't think it's very funny.
Raping a 15-year-old girl. -Rape?
There was no rape! -Are you calling Edie a liar?
Who will the police believe? -What?!
We could come to an arrangement. How does five thou strike you?
I haven't got L5,000.
You can raise it, Bri. A middle-class ponce like you? No problem!
Why? What have I ever done to you?
I just tried to help.
Push off, Brian. Yeah, just get out.
Oh, Brian? You left these.
So what did you think? Was it good?
Oh, it was great! That was our coup de theatre.
What?! You told us to work on a scene.
You said we had to surprise you.
I bet we surprised him! LAUGHTER
A scene?!
Yeah. So we can work it into the play. LAUGHTER
I must have been mad ever to have wasted five minutes,
let alone five months on any of you! Or to have thought that the stinking
sewers that pass for your minds could begin to understand the first thing about drama or literature!
Why don't you all crawl back into the gutter where you belong?
And stay there!
And rot!
Scum!
Well, that wasn't very nice, was it? Right.Plan B.
Well, this is it.
Looks like there's a storm coming.
You think he lived here, sir? Shhh!
Why do I feel as if I know this place? -What?
I know this place. I've been here. -You can't have. Can you?
MRS BARNABY: 'It's the story of a young boy. An Irish boy.'
'Liam has bought a flat by the Albert Hall.'
Of course. That's it!
It's a wonderful book.
It was all in the book! -Which book?
'He lies on the bed, the cushion cool against his neck,
and traces his past against the mouldings on the ceiling.'
The book Max Jennings wrote about Gerald Hadleigh.
That's how I know this flat. It was in the book!
It's not possible. Oh, yes, it is, Troy.
Look! 'His name is Liam Hanlon. He meets a man, an artist.'
'He's painted him lots of times, always in historical dress.'
'They travel together, first in Europe and then Turkey.'
Why didn't I read the book? I should have read the book.
Liam Hanlon - the boy - meets an artist.
He paints him in historical dress and the paintings go for a fortune.
It's all in there. -And Liam Hanlon...
Was Gerald Hadleigh. Yeah.
He was sexually abused. He killed his father.
Then he runs away from home. He gets rich, and then one day
he tells Max Jennings everything. -But why did he do that?
How did they meet?
Remember what Bouncing Barbara said?
Max used to be a psychiatrist before he was a writer.
Now, we already know that Gerald Hadleigh was a transvestite or a transsexual.
Isn't it possible he saw a psychiatrist? And if that psychiatrist were Max Jennings...
Jennings took what Hadleigh told him and put it in a book?
The Far Away Hills.
Gerald Hadleigh was never married. His life was a complete sham.
The photo of his wife was a prop. He probably hid it
in case Jennings saw it. But he was afraid of Jennings.
No, no. That's what Amy thought he was saying.
But Hadleigh was afraid of being left alone with Jennings.
He was frightened of what he might do to him. Think about it, Troy.
What would you do if you told a professional healer, a friend, all your innermost secrets?
Your entire life history. And he turned it into a bestselling book?
What would you do? -I'd kill him.
Exactly. That is what Hadleigh did.
And you want a drink? I'll get you a drink.
'We'll never know exactly how he did it.'
'But after Jennings went back into the house, when the two were alone, that must have been when it happened.'
'Laura Hutton was outside when Jennings came out.'
'She said he took his time. She thought he was drunk.'
'She was wrong. He'd been poisoned, and was feeling the first effects.'
'So Gerald Hadleigh killed Max Jennings.'
But did Jennings kill Hadleigh? -No. I don't think so.
'Laura Hutton saw Brian Clapper there. And he saw someone else.'
'A third figure approaching the house.' -'But who was it?'
Whoever killed Gerald Hadleigh. -Sir?
More drag. -What a surprise (!)
I found this in the same room. It's the same paper Honoria Lyddiard had.
Another copy, yeah.
He received two commendations. He would have been an admiral.
MRS BARNABY: 'First in Europe and then Turkey.' Antalya. What?
What? It's a port in Turkey.
I must have been blind. She folded this over.
It's the Leicester. Not the ship, Troy. Down here, look.
But who are they? That's Ralph Lyddiard.
'The same face we saw in his wife's photograph.'
And the other?
It's Gerald Hadleigh.
Liam, the character in the novel, spent time in Turkey.
But we now know Liam was Gerald Hadleigh.
Which means Hadleigh was in Turkey. Exactly. Which is where he met Ralph Lyddiard.
Antalya!
That's why Honoria went over to Hadleigh's. She was devoted to her brother.
And here was someone who actually knew him!
What are you doing? -I was getting a case, Honoria.
To pack.
Whose are these clothes? This dress is covered in blood.
GH. This is Gerald's case, isn't it?
Honoria killed Gerald Hadleigh - of course she did.
Amy almost gave her away when she contradicted her. When?
When we asked Honoria what she was doing on the night of the murder.
I retired. I had a headache.
'Retired' didn't mean go to bed, which is what I thought.
Amy told us the next time we met.
Amy went to bed. Honoria retired to the study.
And then she went out again a few minutes later. -Back to Gerald Hadleigh's.
I couldn't believe he'd known my Ralph. My darling Ralph.
I tried to see him earlier, but he wasn't there.
And I couldn't talk with all those people there.
So you went back that night. -Yes. I had to see him.
'I couldn't wait.'
Gerald?
'I couldn't believe what I saw.' So disgusting, so beneath contempt!
But I asked him about Ralph. I had to know.
That's what I'd come for. And do you know what he...
what he told me? Do you know what he said?
Yes, I knew him, your dearest, darling Ralph!
We were lovers, Honoria. I had him and he had me.
Now get out of my house!
'She killed him and took all the clothes.'
She didn't want anyone to know.
She's as mad as a hatter.
Hatters? Very sane people, compared to her.
You should have died too. Not just him!
Oh, God! No! No! What have you done?
It's Ralph!
You've brought him in here. You're mad!
Jump. Go on the window! Jump!
No! I'm not going to do it for you. I'll fight. There'll be marks.
They'll know it's you!
Do you think I care? I just want to see you die!
She said she wanted me to die.
She was waiting.
It was AIDS, wasn't it? That's what killed Ralph. She knew.
And she hoped that... that...
She was waiting!
Go on, get her out of here. (SOBS)
Cully! Dad!
Did you see Dr Preston?
Yes, I did.
It's not serious, is it?
I'm afraid it is, yes. It seems I have an allergy.
An allergy? What to?
Oh, no! Oh, yes! What?
Cats. Kilmouski.
Yes.
ITFC Subtitles PAUL SOFER
Tip for download: Open Subtitles MKV Player