Oh, no!
The world and his wife's here.
It's kind of the idea, Dad!
A couple of drinks and you won't notice them.
That's the sort of thing!
Only maybe more old-fashioned and stylish.
That'll be it...
Your mother thinks I need to relax more. Weekends on the river.
Our own boat perhaps. That's a good idea.
There's loads for sale in the local paper.
Is this a conspiracy?
In my job, you get ten years for that.
'Next race on the water is the veterans.'
STARTER: Attention...
BLAST OF HORN
Right, the home team, furthest from us...
Midsomer Rowing Club Veterans.
They're not veterans!
They're half our age! Joyce.
SHOUTING AND CHEERING
COX SHOUTS ORDERS
COX: One two three, two one...
Pick it up. Let's go for the line.
What the hell was that? Danny? Danny, are you all right?
Danny! Get him out quickly!
There's something in the water!
I know there's something in the bloody water!
It's a man!
Oh, my God, it's Guy! It's Guy Sweetman!
CAMERA SHUTTER
Gentlemen, Mr Parkway, Mr Trent.
I want see all the rowing stopped. Suspended until further notice.
Invite them all to a longer lunch.
Now look here, Inspector.
Guy Sweetman was a damn good friend of mine.
The last thing he'd want is for his death to stop the regatta.
We've got a hell of a programme.
I think what he means, Inspector, is that, like you,
we have a duty to perform to the thousand or so
who've come out.
Why should a piffling murder stop it?
Precisely...
Murder? Are you sure?
I don't think he hit himself on the head, Mr Trent.
You'll get your regatta back as soon as possible.
I'm taking him back to the lab, Tom. Any initial thoughts?
Yes. He's dead.
Who is he, anyway? He is Guy Ernest Sweetman,
chairman of the Midsomer Rowing Club, wherever that is.
Past the starting line.
Sir.
Chief Inspector Barnaby? Yeah. Clare Bonavita,
rowing club treasurer.
The boys tell me it was murder. I can hardly believe it.
Are you a friend or relative?
Friend.
You know, Guy really did live up to his surname.
He was the sweetest man. Whoever killed him disagreed.
Yes.
Yes, some irate husband or jealous boyfriend, no doubt.
Anyone in particular in mind?
No. Guy didn't so much play the field as the entire countryside.
Where did he live, madam?
Morton Shallows. Thank you, Mrs Bonavita.
Right, we'll do the club first and then his house.
What about the press? Press? Avoid them.
Mrs Bonavita?
Could we borrow one of your regatta launches?
Can't this boat go any slower, Sergeant?
That's the beauty of river boats, sir.
They slow life down, let you think.
Huh, you sound like my wife!
I'll get the drinks in, Inspector!
If your good friend had just been murdered,
would you look so cheerful about it?
Dad!
Dad! People are saying it's Guy Sweetman!
Well, is it true? Yeah.
No wonder we haven't seen him for a few days.
Don't worry, Het. The police on their way.
A quick tidy-up of Guy's office might not go amiss.
Good idea, John.
I'm sorry, Het. I really am.
No, you're not, Dad!
You're over the moon!
Damn!
Sorry. I didn't get the drinks in after all!
What will it be? No, thanks.
Come and meet my daughter Hettie.
Het, Chief Inspector Barnaby. How do you do?
And his er... Sergeant. Sergeant Scott.
Sergeant. Mr Trent, how well did you know Guy Sweetman?
Rowed together at Oxford, kept up the friendship.
So you'll know about his private life, then.
Guy's private life was a most public affair, Inspector.
Guy was a serial philanderer.
Swore that every woman he met was the love of his life.
The latest was called Sandra Tate. Is she here today?
Um, no, not as far as I can see,
but he has been keeping her under wraps. Why?
I guess he feared we might spill the beans. Past loves...
You see, strangely enough, I think Sandra was a bit special.
Even mentioned marriage at one point... Most odd.
Did you know him at all, Miss Trent?
Er, no...not really.
Been any help, Inspector?
Most things people tell us are of help, Mr Trent,
even if they don't mean them to be.
Where can I find you if I need more help?
Well, here during the day.
Seven Seas Restaurant in the evenings.
I take it Mr Sweetman had an office here.
Yes. Would you care to look it over? Sergeant Scott would love to.
It's upstairs, Sergeant.
Sir. Oh, I'd like a coffee, please, if you've got one on the go.
Coffee and a chat.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.
Vic Lynton, sir. How do you do?
One coffee coming up. Thank you.
A very organised chap was Guy.
He'd need to be with a lifestyle like his.
Did your daughter have a thing with him?
Hettie? Why do you say that?
My boss out there would call it copper's nose.
Old-fashioned. I can't help it. Anyway, did she?
Well, I think there was some sort of...
There you go, then.
And never trust a man...
with a tidy desk.
Thank you.
Might I give you the benefit of my observation, sir?
I was hoping for that.
This murder isn't linked to the chairman's extra-mural activities.
It's about something much closer to home.
You're not going to leave it there, surely?
Downstream from here is a boat called the Arabella Jane,
belonging to Mr Philip Trent.
He, Mr Parkway and Sweetman used to meet aboard her on Friday evenings.
(CLEARS THROAT)
Last Friday...
there were words.
What, an argument?
A definite rumpus, sir, which I myself heard.
What time was that? About eleven.
It being quiet here, I'd taken a stroll along the towpath.
As I passed the boat, I heard the chairman being verbally abused,
along the lines of, "For Christ sakes, Guy, you're so unreliable,"
and, "How dare you let us down at the last minute!"
There was even, "After all the work we've done, I could kill you!"
Verbatim. Who did most of the shouting?
Mr Trent, sir, as per usual.
I say this, not because his credit here is under review,
I say it because it is true.
All the same, he's got a large slate. Is that what you mean? How much?
That would be a confidence too far, sir.
So, Sweetman left the scene,
and Parkway and Trent went back on board?
Yes... Yes, they did.
Did what?
I had a feeling...
in the way of these things, that someone else was below decks,
trying to keep a low profile.
Well, have you got any idea who?
Afraid not, sir.
Inspector, is there any chance we can crank up the regatta again?
Yes, yes. Sergeant, will you...
In the meantime, a couple of chicken sandwiches, please.
Allow me, Barnaby. Only members can pay here.
Yeah, the usual for me, Vic, and stick it all on my slate.
Certainly, sir.
It seems there was some sort of row last Friday on Trent's boast.
He keeps it moored downriver.
Guy Sweetman, Parkway and Trent, they all fell out.
I'd easily fall out with Trent. And you probably will.
What do you make of Parkway? Haven't formed an opinion.
I bet you the other half of this very warm beer
that Parkway did a sweep of Guy's office soon after we arrived.
I saw that.
Lynton reckons there was probably a fourth person on board.
He's got no idea who.
They'd been meeting on that boat every Friday night for two months.
But why on the boat? Why not in the clubhouse?
I'm with Mrs Bonavita on this one. I think there's an angry husband or jealous boyfriend somewhere,
possibly an angry father.
Hettie Trent is also one of Guy Sweetman's...conquests.
Well, she seems to be over it now.
Henry.
Remember what I told you, Henry.
Long and strong, and keep your focus.
Go past him, no settling back. Thanks, coach!
Midsomer's answer to Steve Redgrave.
Are you his coach?
You sound surprised.
The truth is, I had no option.
Getting Parkway or Trent... or even poor Guy
fired up enough to help was a losing battle.
I'm told they didn't always see eye to eye on certain matters.
Really? Such as?
I'm open to suggestion. Do you know why they should have fallen out?
If I were you, Inspector,
I'd take what Vic Lynton tells you with a pinch of salt.
Barmen, Mrs Bonavita, they know all the gossip.
STARTER: Attention!
SHOUTS OF ENCOURAGEMENT
COMMENTARY
Nice and long.
Go on, Henry! Go on!
Go on, Henry!
(SQUEALS)
Hello, it's Vic again.
Any sign of Sandra?
And no message from her?
No, no. It's OK. You're probably right,
she's stopped off somewhere.
I'll phone again tomorrow.
Sandra Tate, sir. The girlfriend Vic Lynton mentioned.
There are no records of her in any of the usual databases.
That's CRO, voters' register or the NHS.
Unless we find her quick, Scott,
she's either a main suspect or another victim,
in which case she'll bob up somewhere downriver.
Got anything else? According to the custody sergeant,
Clare Bonavita was also one of Guy Sweetman's conquests.
Was she? This time last year,
her husband Freddie threatened to kill him. Belted him on the jaw.
And waited a year to finish the job?
You do wonder why the barman didn't mention it.
A confidence too far, Scott.
Right, he was killed about 2,500 metres from where he was found.
That's based on time in the water, rate of flow, weight of body.
He was struck on the head twice by a piece of local stone. Here are the bits.
Then he was dragged to the water's edge and held under till he drowned.
Dragged through long grass, from the state of his shoes.
So where are we talking about?
My guess is Morton Shallows, near his house.
The next question is, when?
Any time between 10pm Friday and 4am Saturday.
That's just after the row aboard the Arabella Jane.
Right, Scott. Thanks, George.
Get a team to Morton Shallows.
The whole length of the village.
Any signs of struggle, people who saw anything,
the murder weapon... I do know the drill, sir.
Typical family day out, really.
We arrive somewhere and ten minutes later there's a serious crime.
Exit the old man.
I think he plans it that way.
And he took the car!
Come on. We'll walk to Morton Fendle and take the bus.
That one would be too modern for your father.
He'll want brass and mahogany everywhere.
Like that one, for example.
It's a bit tatty, Mum.
Nothing a coat of varnish won't cure.
Good evening, ladies!
Do you think he heard us? No, no.
You said seven o'clock. It's ten past.
Well spotted, Ivan. Have a drink.
I'd rather get down to business, Trent.
Right.
I was going to suggest that Guy's death is a blessing in disguise.
In what way? It means we can carry on
as if nothing had happened.
They reckon he was killed somewhere down this path to the river, sir.
There's blood on the grass and gouges in the mud,
presumably where he was dragged.
Any murder weapon? In the river, I should think, sir.
Shall I call the divers? No, not yet.
Which is Guy Sweetman's house?
This one here, sir.
You're going to love his next-door neighbour.
This is the gentleman I was telling you about, Mrs Sharp.
Chief Inspector Barnaby. Oh, yes.
Ask me anything you like, Inspector.
Guy and I were great friends.
Mrs Sharp, did you know a girlfriend,
a lady friend of Mr Sweetman called Sandra Tate?
Oh, yes, yes. We were great friends too.
Only we have a bit of a problem finding her.
Do you know where she lives or where she works?
No. No, no, I don't.
But she did tell me where her parents live.
Oh, funny name.
It'll come to me during the day.
How old is she, Mrs Sharp? Well, that's hard to say...
Um, she could be more 30 than 40. I'm not very good with ages.
Or heights, if you're going to ask me that.
Taller than I am. Shorter than you.
Did she visit here often?
Oh, yes. She moved in with Guy about two weeks ago.
And then moved out again.
When? Friday.
Friday afternoon.
At least I think it was Friday.
Well, thank you, Mrs Sharp.
If Sandra Tate comes back, could you give me a call, please?
Here's my card. Thank you. Thank you.
Clare Bonavita said that Sweetman lived up to his name.
Pity Mrs Sharp doesn't live up to hers.
Ah!
Classic little black book, sir.
Hm, it's going to make interesting reading.
How do we get across, Sergeant?
Well, one of us is going to have to row, sir.
And the smart money's on me.
Don't dip the oars so deeply, Sergeant.
You're rowing, not ploughing.
Henry, show him how it's done!
Any news about Guy?
I gather he was killed some time on Friday. I saw him that afternoon.
When exactly was that?
Er, five-ish.
He came over on regatta business.
How did he seem? Was he worried or distracted?
No. No, he was his usual flirtatious self.
Come on up to the house. I'll make us some coffee. Thank you.
Actually, it isn't you we've come to see.
It's your husband. Freddie?
Oh... Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck.
He's gone to our villa in Malta.
Oh, has he? And when will he be back?
I'm afraid he won't.
Don't worry, Inspector, it's been a perfectly amicable split,
but we have decided to call it a day.
When did he leave? Erm, Friday morning. Why?
Because he once threatened to kill Guy Sweetman.
Oh, Freddie threatens to kill everyone when he's had a few drinks.
I take it you are referring to the punch-up at the club.
Yes, I am. I imagine you were the reason for it,
you being one of Guy's, um... conquests.
That's the word my sergeant is using.
How diplomatic of him.
Well, all I can say is,
that Guy and I separated well over a year ago.
And was that an amicable split too? Very.
There is one other thing you could help us with.
Perhaps you could tell us why Guy and Philip Trent and John Parkway
had taken to meeting on board the Arabella Jane most Fridays.
They used it as a comittee room.
Why not the club? Well, knowing those three,
they went on into the small hours. Regatta business.
Well, thank you. Thank you for your time.
No coffee? No thanks. Must rush.
Can you tell me where I can find Mr Parkway?
If he's not on regatta duty, try him at home.
It's 8 The Maltings, Morton Fendle. Thank you.
Hope I'm not lying for you in vain, Freddie.
You didn't do it for me, Clare. You did it for yourself.
You don't want them keeping me here in England.
I'm sure Henry doesn't either.
All Henry cares about is becoming a champion.
I can make that happen for him if I can just keep him focused.
As soon as I've gathered all my documents, I'll be off
and you can focus together as much as you like.
By the way, much as I dislike Guy Sweetman, I didn't kill him.
Hats off to whoever did, though.
INDISTINCT COMMENTARY
Come on, Midsomer!
STARTER: Attention...
Come on, John!
STARTING GUN
Come on, Midsomer! Morning, Het. Come on, Midsomer!
Dad, I've been meaning to ask,
have you found a house yet? Um, no.
The regatta's got in the way of all that.
Are you still happy at the flat? Very, yeah.
I was just thinking about going on holiday for two weeks,
if that's all right. Yeah, absolutely.
Bit of a problem, though. The usual one.
Oh, blimey, Het. What do you do with it all?
Same as everyone else, Dad. Spend it.
How much this time? Well, ã800 would cover it.
Bloody hell, I should hope so! Where are you going?
Bali. But if you're going to be stingy...
No, no. It's just...
things have been a tight lately.
Well, the Arabella Jane needs tarting up
and your mother's been gnashing her teeth again.
Oh, Dad! Tell her to shove it.
Her new boyfriend's loaded. He also happens to be a solicitor.
Well, leave it with me. I'll sort something out.
Thanks, Dad!
The Maltings. Very nice too.
Hello, Mr Parkway. Good morning.
That's an ex-pupil of mine. I lent him some money
and, well, he's paid me back. Money for what?
For the bike.
Come in, please.
What's his name?
David. David Cooke. With an E. Have you got an address for him?
Save me looking one up. Don't you believe what I've just...
No, I don't know where he lives... Please.
Thank you.
He works at Midsomer Sawmills, up at Morton Woods.
Terrible thing about Guy. Yeah.
The last man who deserved it.
In spite of his faults. Tell me about
his faults...
Well, actually, only the one that I'm aware of. Women.
And the row on the Arabella Jane?
The four of you fell out.
You make it sound like a real bust-up. We only had a...
Besides, there weren't four, only three.
Myself, Guy and Phil Trent.
What was the row about?
Guy had forgotten to recall last year's trophies,
so some of them won't be presented on Saturday. It was nothing, really.
The club has always been proud of its attention to detail, but...
well, I guess we overreacted.
It's hardly a hanging offence!
Or is murder, Mr Parkway.
But it isn't quite so easily glossed over, is it?
Teacher. Pupil. Money changing hands. What's all that about?
Whoever the fourth person is, they're not too keen for us to know who.
Why not? Let us into the secret, tell us what they're really up to?
Cos sure as hell they didn't fall out about unreturned trophies.
CHEERING
CRIES OF ENCOURAGEMENT
You rowed a good race today, Henry. Thanks. He wasn't that much trouble.
Are you going out? Just to Causton. Couple of hours. Who with?
No-one in particular. You should go out too, Clare.
Henry, listen to me.
I never wanted to be a governor of Causton College.
I certainly never thought that I'd find...a champion rower.
It was a lucky break for me.
Without your support and coaching -
That's part of it. The rest is down to hard work and dedication.
I have worked very hard.
I saw them today - Olympic scouts. They're not here for the beer,
but looking for potential champions.
I'm not saying do a full work-out,
but I do think that you should have a decent meal,
stay off the booze and get an early night.
You're the boss, Coach. An early night it is.
Hello! Anyone at home?
Come in, Phil.
Congratulations. Damn good show. Thank you, Mr Trent.
Hello.
What can I do for you, Phil? Erm...
I'm afraid it's the same old story, Clare.
But the good news is that Freddie will be getting it back.
How much does she want this time?
I take it, it is for Hettie?
Eight hundred.
She wants to go on holiday.
Bali.
When I was her age, I'd never even heard of Bali,
let alone taken a holiday there.
Oh, look, I'm not exactly rolling in it myself.
Anyway, why does Hettie need a holiday?
It's nothing to do with Guy Sweetman's murder, is it?
How do you mean?
He did dump her rather brutally.
Oh, no, no! Hang on, Clare.
I mean, she may be a spoilt brat, but she is not a murderer.
No.
No. Of course not.
Sorry.
PLATES CLATTER
This is my way of apologising for yesterday.
You don't mind if Scott joins us, do you?
I'm trying to domesticate him.
No. Not at all.
This way, please.
♪ SMOOTH JAZZ
Henry?
♪ SMOOTH JAZZ
Thank you.
SONG FINISHES
Would you two ladies excuse us for a minute?
What for?
Scott.
Ah, gentlemen.
Mr Trent, we're having difficulty finding an address for you.
All we get is "Care of Midsomer Rowing Club".
Well, that's because I'm between houses.
Looking, but not finding. I'm camping on the Arabella Jane.
And working here? Oh, I wouldn't call it work.
No. This is a labour of love. I'm keeping my hand in.
Well, both of them.
Do you take requests?
Yes. Yes. What would you like to hear?
Your explanation of the row the night that Guy Sweetman was murdered.
I don't like the way you put those two things together.
Guy forgot to recall the trophies from last year.
Not much, but the committee's always been immensely proud of its attention to detail.
And it was just the three of you on the boat arguing? No-one else?
Yes. Me, Guy, John Parkway.
Thank you, sir.
They made up that story. He used exactly the same words as Parkway.
"Proud of their attention to detail"?
"Immensely" proud.
I don't like Mr Trent. I wonder why. What's he up to?
Dad, this was supposed to be a quiet evening out. Family.
You know who that chap is, Cully?
He owns the boat we were looking at yesterday evening.
Scott,
while he's playing that piano,
I fancy a shufty at the boat.
Won't be long. Sorry.
CLATTERING
That is the biggest mousetrap I've ever seen.
PHIL IS STILL PLAYING THE PIANO
Erm...
Bills, credit cards, bank statements.
What does that say to you? That he's up to his neck in it.
Most of these are at the limit.
And not a sign of an estate agent's brochure.
Is he really between houses or simply homeless?
Come and say hello to the rats, Henry.
They're very friendly.
HENRY: Rats? Oh, my God.
Don't be so soft. They won't hurt you.
We've got rid of most of them.
All right.
But supposing he comes back unexpectedly?
He's at the restaurant, slaving away for our holiday money.
Oh, you can forget about Bali. Your old man can't afford it.
Who told you that?
Come on. He came to see Clare before I left.
Asked her for money. She must be loaded. They're all doing it.
Parkway's touched her a couple of times.
He's a teacher. He's bound to be skint. Come on.
You're going to laugh at this, but it's the rats.
They're the one creature I can't abide.
Not such a tough guy, after all, then?
Fine.
Let's go back to mine.
(SIGHS) Sir, you are the luckiest man I've ever worked for.
Well, let's hope it lasts.
Scott, tomorrow morning, I want you to go to Clare Bonavita's house.
What for, sir?
If Clare has lent Trent and Parkway money,
she'll know the state of their finances.
I'd like to know them, too. It's got a bearing on the murder?
Scott, two men who are broke have a row with a third man
who's dead two hours later.
I see definite possibilities. Go on.
'Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to semifinals day.
The opening race is the men's singles sculls.
Representing Midsomer Rowing Club is Henry Charlton in lane one.
In lane two is...'
'..a reminder that the champagne bar is already open,
for those of you who'd like to make an early start.
Light refreshments can also be found...'
'Attention!'
CROWD: Go on, Henry!
Go on, Henry!
CHEERING
Come on! Go on!
You're supposed to be in Malta.
You're supposed to be a policeman, not a housebreaker.
Your door was open.
Since when is that a reason to just walk in here?
We'll answer questions at the police station.
I'm not going to any police station. Oh, yes, you are.
Of your own free will or under arrest.
And bring your passport.
Why are you going to Malta, Mr Bonavita?
Back to my roots.
Those boxes on your living-room table going with you?
Business records. Nothing more. Go through them.
Only about 100,000 documents.
I think we should do that.
Given your police record.
Fraud,
malicious wounding,
ABH.
That latter so serious it got you...
five years.
A long time ago.
You run a finance company, don't you? Crusader Holdings.
Lent any money to Philip Trent?
John Parkway?
Guy Sweetman, even?
All three, against my better judgement.
They're Clare's friends not mine. She appealed to my better nature.
How much did you lend them?
I can't remember, exactly.
I think Guy needed ã30,000,
Phil Trent fifty...
and Johnny Parkway two, three.
And they paid you back? Guy and Phil should have done.
But I shan't hold my breath.
Is this to do with Guy Sweetman's murder?
Possibly.
You see, my sergeant thinks he was killed by a jilted lover
or an angry husband.
That'd be you, too, wouldn't it?
But you disagree with him, by the sound of it.
Well, I did - until now.
Why did your wife lie to us?
Why did she say you'd left the country, when you hadn't?
I asked her to.
I didn't want you digging into my past,
coming up with reasons to keep me here, which you seem to be doing.
You threatened to kill him, didn't you? What was that about?
Jealousy? Injured pride?
Neither.
Only my next question was going to be...
How do you cope with Henry Charlton?
I mean, he's moved into your house and your wife seems very er...
..attached to him.
The fire went out of our marriage years ago.
That's why I'm leaving.
No hard feelings, no broken bones, just...the end of the road.
So, if you think I killed Guy Sweetman out of jealousy,
you're mistaken.
Thank you, Vic. My pleasure, madam.
You wanted to talk about Henry.
Yes.
Yes. (CLEARS THROAT) The semifinal.
Another notch on his gun belt, eh?
He only just won. He should have left the other boy standing.
Now, I'm not saying it's your fault,
but he didn't come in until two o'clock this morning.
Had you waited up?
I heard him, because he was drunk.
This is not the way to become a champion
and Henry IS a potential champion.
Out of whom you'll make a fortune, Clare.
Maybe there's another reason you're doing it.
Something to do with the years passing
and men like Guy Sweetman dropping you at the first sign of a wrinkle?
And what did Guy Sweetman ditching you so unceremoniously prove?
Guy and I had our fun and then went our separate ways.
Me to Henry
and him to Sandra Tate,
the new love of his life,
the one he was actually going to marry.
Try and keep up with the gossip.
Or have you and Henry just been too busy for that?
'Attention!'
STARTER GUN FIRES
That's the one, Scott.
Pull in over there.
Can I help you? I do so hope you can, sir, Mr...?
Stevens. Mr Stevens.
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID
and that is Detective Sergeant Scott.
Ah, morning.
This way.
I don't know when this room was last used, Inspector.
Could do with a dust and polish.
Ah, yes. That's perfect. Thank you, Mrs Stevens, for letting us use it.
I'm chair of the local River Watch, as it happens.
Anything to help. So, what's the form?
Someone here, round the clock, starting this evening.
I expect Scott will take the first watch.
Oh, yes. Of course.
If we could use the bathroom? All we need.
I'll put some fresh towels in there.
If I remember rightly, Morton Woods, is that west from here?
Out of the front door, straight up the lane facing you.
Morton Woods? David Cooke, sir?
But the car's on the other side of the river.
A bit of exercise, Scott. Do you good.
MACHINES HUM
Afternoon. David Cooke?
Up there. Thank you.
David Cooke, with an "e"?
SWITCHES OFF TOOL
I'm Inspector Barnaby, with a "y".
Why did you rush away from John Parkway's house the other day?
I was late for another appointment.
Oh. Yes. You look like a man with a full diary.
He was going to give you some money, wasn't he?
The money in his hand?
No. You've got that wrong, mate.
He was holding 500 quid, at least. That's a lot for a teacher.
And blackmail is a crime, David, as I'm sure you know.
I will set that to one side, if you tell me what you've got on him.
What do you mean?
Has it anything to do with the murder we are investigating?
Murder?
Has he murdered someone?
That is what I am asking you, David.
Do you know something I should know?
No. I don't know what you're talking about.
Leave me alone, all right, I'm done.
I want a solicitor. Oh?
What you want - Sergeant!
Some other time, perhaps.
COINS DROP It's Vic, again.
Has Sandra turned up yet?
Well, you're her bloody parents. What are YOU doing about it?
That's not good enough.
Do you know anything of Guy Sweetman's history, Mr Parkway?
Well, before he came to Midsomer,
he sold agricultural machinery in Suffolk.
Being Guy, he was, er...
found in bed with the MD's wife.
Then he came here and went to work for Summerley's.
The MD's a bachelor, so no pitfalls.
He was still working for them when he died?
Yeah.
Not the life he would have chosen, but that can be said of most people.
You included?
Actually, no.
By some curious stroke of fate, I'm doing the job I always wanted to.
Happy, are you, in spite of a brat like Cooke blackmailing you?
You've got that wrong. He isn't.
Oh, yes, he is.
You tell me why and I'll stop him.
(CLEARS THROAT)
(SIGHS)
I was, erm...
19.
My parents didn't have any money. I wanted to go to Loughborough.
It seemed impossible.
Then I saw an advert in a...
magazine.
"Wanted for speciality film: young men, fit, clean and presentable."
I applied and got the job.
"Speciality film"?
A so-called "adult movie"?
Yes.
By today's standards, of course, it's as tame as a teddy bear.
It's almost...
..laughable.
In any other job it wouldn't matter, but I'm a teacher of young children.
Many copies made? Oh, no. It was hardly Emmanuelle.
David Cooke's father has a copy.
Is it David's father not -
It's David who's blackmailing me. An entrepreneur in the making.
The last one. I've been after him for days.
Eurgh!
Hello. Hi.
What did you want to see me about? Dad-and-daughter stuff, really.
Where are we going, sir?
To see Mr Cooke with an "e". Oh, good.
What's wrong?
Scott...
there will be no violence on my watch.
I was just - None.
Whatsoever.
Yes, sir.
About the holiday, the old money's a wee bit tied up at the moment.
Try me again in a couple of weeks' time.
You know me, Dad, I probably will.
There was something else. Erm...
The police. I mean...
Barnaby is not just your average country plod.
I hadn't really thought about it. Why?
Het, he will get round to you.
What you had with Guy.
Erm...
That thing you had together.
Where were you Friday night? It depends WHEN on Friday...
Dad, it isn't the police that want to know, it's you!
You think I had something to do with Guy's death. Of course I don't.
Did you?
Oh...!
Wait! I just want you to be ready for them.
Well, thanks, Dad, I will be.
What do you want?
The tape, please. Tape? What are you talking about?
The tape you've been blackmailing Mr Parkway with.
I could ask your father or doesn't he know what you've been up to?
Perhaps I should tell him. Is he in? No.
They've gone to the regatta.
Then the tape, please.
Go with him, Sergeant.
Bear in mind what I said in the car.
After you, Mr Cooke.
This highly desirable craft is being refurbished.
In other words, it's a wreck.
It offers accommodation in "economical" form.
Hello!
Hello, Tom. There you are.
Cup of tea? Yes, please.
Thank you.
Oh! I spy boats.
Some of them marked.
Yes, I think we ought to go and look at one, when you've got time.
That's fair enough. PHONE RINGS
Are you in?
No, I'm not. Not unless it's Jocelyn, the solicitor.
35...!
Mum says you'll haggle.
Yes. Yes, he is. I'll arrest the man for extortion.
It's Jocelyn, the solicitor.
CAMERA BEEPS
BEEPS
KNOCK AT DOOR Oh, sir.
Scott, how goes it?
Trent's gone on board, but he would, if he lives there.
Got anything your end? Oh, yes.
I just spoke to Guy's solicitor, about the will.
Did he leave you anything, sir?
Strangely, no, but he did leave Sandra Tate something.
His house.
Why leave your cottage to a woman you've known for less than a month?
She was the great love of his life, wasn't she?
Trent said he was going to marry her. It puts her at the top of our list.
All we've got to do now is find her.
Hello.
John Parkway's showed up.
CAMERA BEEPS
BEEP
Anyway, er, why are you here, sir?
It's a generation thing, Scott.
I've brought you some cake and some coffee.
Where's Ivan?
Having second thoughts.
Shouldn't think so.
He needs this more than we do.
It's not so much that you stopped me smacking David Cooke, sir, but...
Well, you bent a few rules yourself.
You broke in the Arabella Jane, didn't you?
That was the proper prosecution of a legitimate enquiry.
Whereas, you thumping Cooke with an E, that'd be personal.
And me breaking into Bonavita's house?
For the good of the investigation. Look what you found.
Freddie Bonavita. Plus the fact that his wife lied for him.
Someone else has shown up.
Who the hell is that?
I don't know.
That's the man Vic Lynton told us about.
The Fourth Man.
Sir?
Oh, I'm sorry.
Our custody sergeant knows everybody in the world and then a few more.
His name is Ivan Hawkins, sir.
He owns a jeweller's shop in Causton.
Is he known to us? Yeah.
CRO gives him form back to 1982. Theft of 12 Cartier watches.
There's a repossession order on the shop. He hasn't paid his mortgage.
And this man was meeting Guy Sweetman and the others on the Arabella Jane?
All four of them in debt. Three to Freddie Bonavita.
Would you want to owe him money?
He said he didn't expect to see his money back, didn't he?
He may have lied to us, sir.
What are they doing on the boat?
Do you think we're looking at an insurance scam, Scott?
How about that for a theory?
They were planning to rob Ivan Hawkins.
Still are.
And with his collusion.
When, though?
This week's a good bet. Half of Causton's pissed every night.
And we're stretched to the limit.
DOG BARKS
Guy?
DOOR OPENS
Guy, is that you?
Oh, Mrs Sharp, you gave me a shock. It's Sandra, isn't it?
Yes, of course it is.
Oh, dear.
What's wrong?
Oh, dear.
Anything overnight? No, sir.
PHONE RINGS
The Arabella party broke up at two.
They all went their separate ways. Barnaby.
Oh, Mrs Sharp.
We'll be right over.
Sandra Tate's turned up.
Mr Barnaby?
I've told her about Guy.
Didn't she know he was dead?
Not just dead, Inspector. Murdered.
So he was.
DOOR SHUTS
Inspector Barnaby? Yes.
Thank you. This is Detective Sergeant Scott.
Miss Tate,
I'm so sorry that you had to learn about Guy's death in the way you did.
Who did it?
Well, we don't know yet.
One of those dreadful rowing club people, I expect.
Do you have anyone specific in mind?
Any one of them. They're a cliquey immoral bunch of self serving...
I'm sorry, I shouldn't lead off like that.
Miss Tate, did you know that Guy had made a will in your favour?
Yes, I did.
Leaving you this house.
Nice little nest egg.
And it therefore follows that I killed him for it.
Please...
People have been murdered for less.
And we got worried when we couldn't find an official record for you.
I was brought up in France.
That's where I've been for the last few days. Deauville.
I said it was a funny name.
If you'd looked under my married name, you'd have found me.
And what is that?
Lynton.
My ex-husband is the steward at the rowing club.
Yeah, we know him.
Or we thought we did.
Good luck, you.
Puts it about a bit our Henry, doesn't he?
An expert speaks.
TANNOY: Local interest now. Come on, Midsomer. Nice clean start.
Go. STARTER'S PISTOL
Go on, Midsomer.
Great start.
CHEERING
Sir?
Mr Lynton.
You are now what I call a strong possible for Guy Sweetman's murder.
We've just met your ex wife.
You mean, Sandra's turned up?
Thank God.
How is she?
She's upset. As am I.
Why didn't you tell us you'd been married to Sandra Tate?
You didn't ask me, sir.
See our point, though?
If your wife gets off with Guy, how do you feel?
Jealous? Angry enough to kill him?
I was delighted with the arrangement.
I've always wanted what was best for the ex Mrs Lynton.
And the chairman was one of the best.
You were on the towpath the night he was killed.
Did you follow him home? Attack him?
I came back here to finish my tour of duty.
Can I just...?
Can we try this for size?
The day we first met, you weren't so much pointing the finger at Trent
but away from Sandra. Why?
Did you think Sandra killed him?
Or is that another confidence too far?
Coffee, sir?
Yes please, sir.
And put it on Trent's slate.
We're supposed to be closing cans of worms, not opening them.
Now we've got Sandra Tate alive and well
and dissing members of the club.
And she's been left Guy's house in his will.
Did you do a CRO check on Lynton?
Yes, sir.
Vic Lynton.
Staff Sergeant Royal Artillery stationed at Karlsruhe.
Left the army five years ago and married then divorced.
No children, no police record. Lives in Causton on his tod.
Keen fisherman.
Well, he certainly played us.
Well, if it's not a jealous husband, sir, it's an ex lover.
And who's the next conquest?
It's like coming home. You must live in a strange house.
Miss Trent. Hettie.
We'd like to know where you were on the night Guy Sweetman was killed.
At a club.
Till three in the morning. With whom?
Henry Charlton?
Yeah.
We took a taxi home. You can ask the driver if you like.
How organised of you.
Or should I say prepared?
I prefer organised.
Thing is, you're in Guy Sweetman's address book,
along with about 500 others.
We're asking them all how it was. So, how was it for you?
CURTAIN IS DRAWN BACK
Look, can we do this somewhere else?
I'm due for a coffee break in about five minutes.
How did your dad feel about you and Guy?
He didn't like it.
I never thought he would.
Did he try and stop it? He wouldn't have dared.
And he's not the murdering type, if that's what you're getting at.
And when are you off on holiday?
I don't know who told you about that but it's been cancelled.
Apparently Dad isn't as well off as I thought.
Guy Sweetman was also in debt.
Did you know that?
I was his girlfriend, not his bookkeeper.
Now if you'll excuse me, I really should get back to the shop.
I'm so sorry. I seem to have forgotten my wallet.
Would you mind paying the bill? Thanks.
KNOCKING AT DOOR
All right. All right.
(SCREAMS)
Sandra!
Aaah!
How is Sandra?
She's still unconscious. So I need to talk to you.
Can you describe her attacker for me? Oh, he was a motorcycle courier.
Who do we know with a motorcycle, Scott?
Henry Charlton, Dave...
David Cooke.
What did he look like, Mrs Sharp?
Oh...!
Leathers and a helmet?
I believe they have to wear a helmet these days.
What colour was it? I'm not very good with colours.
Dark.
Well, you've been very helpful, Mrs Sharp.
Think you're a bit young to be watching this.
Where does this come from?
This?
Some oik is using this to blackmail one of my suspects.
Suspect's playing the lead.
(HEAVY BREATHING)
TV: Oh!
Oh!
Is that him? That's him.
Early night? (LAUGHS)
TANNOY: Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to Midsomer Regatta. It's Finals Day.
With the culmination of the regatta season...
Attention!
BIRD TWITTERS
PHONE RINGS
Barnaby. SCOTT: Sir.
Trent, Parkway and Ivan Hawkins have just left the Arabella Jane.
Trent went back for his car keys.
Right, I'll meet you at the shop. Sir.
Pull in, Phil, will you?
For God's sake, Parkway, you should have had one before we left.
I can't do this.
Talk about timing.
Did I hear you right?
I'm sorry. I can't go through with it.
I knew you were flaky, John.
Guy was flaky, too.
Look what happened to him.
Don't threaten me, Phil. There's no need. I won't be going to the police.
Get out.
They'll go through the back, sir.
There's a place to park and it's not overlooked.
There's no-one left to overlook.
All down at the regatta. Have you posted a lookout?
He will call us. Good.
TANNOY: Now the final of the men's single sculls.
Tony Hall for Hatchham in lane one,
Henry Charlton for Midsomer in lane two.
CHEERING
Attention!
CHEERING
How's he doing? Fine.
Come on, Henry.
What?
I'll do the rest.
Oh, steady.
Come on!
Want to go over your story again?
No, no, I'm fine with it.
Feet together.
CHEERING
It's not totally convincing, is it? What isn't?
Aah!
When you're asked... That's how I got the combination.
And that one was for luck. What the...?
Mmm. Mmm.
CHEERING
Come on! Come on!
Come on!
MUFFLED GROANING
ALL: Come on! Come on!
You bastard, Trent!
You absolute bastard.
Well, it's certainly a point of view.
CHEERING
Mrs Bonavita? Yes.
We understand you're Henry Charlton's coach. Yes.
May we have a word?
Aaaaah!
Fantastic race, Henry. Well done!
Well done! I knew you could do it.
Olympic scouts. Did you hear that? Really?
Henry, these two gentlemen are from the British Olympic Committee.
Very well sculled, Henry.
Thank you so much. I really appreciate you coming.
Excuse me.
PA: Congratulations, Henry Charlton.
♪ TRAD JAZZ
The robbery - you pulled out at the last minute, didn't you?
En route to it, yes.
Wise move.
I wasn't afraid of being caught, Sergeant,
so much as facing the kids I teach.
There's only one thing on this tape you can be arrested for.
Your mullet haircut and the flares you wore briefly in the first scene.
Although I agree school governors might see it differently.
Look, this might be an excellent time for you to tell us
what the row aboard the Arabella Jane was all about.
Oh, it's not the "honour among thieves" thing, is it?
Look, don't you be so stupid.
They're in custody, and we've been two steps ahead of you all week.
Guy came aboard the boat that Friday.
Drink?
No, I'm afraid I have some bad news.
What's wrong? I'm calling the robbery off.
I'm sorry.
I know you were all depending on it. I was too.
YOU may want out. That doesn't stop the rest of us.
If it goes ahead, I shall inform the police.
(LAUGHS)
You're serious, aren't you?
And the row went on from there? Mm.
Trent was furious.
Wouldn't let it go.
Lynton was there with his dog.
After all the work we've done, I could bloody kill you!
I mean it, Phil. That's the end of it.
For Christ's sake, Guy! You never could be relied upon.
Trust you to let us down at the last minute!
DOG BARKS
Two hours later, Guy Sweetman was dead.
Mm.
Did he give any reason for pulling out?
No.
Although I think I know why.
He told Sandra Tate about the robbery. She didn't like it.
Said she wouldn't marry a thief. He pulled out on her say-so?
Out of character, I know, but it's what I believe.
So Sandra knew about the robbery. Is that why someone tried to kill her?
More to the point, will they try again?
Oh, Barnaby... Hm?
Er...
Oh.
The other day, you didn't tell us about the robbery, did you?
Yes, I should have done, I know, but...
I didn't want you to think badly of Guy and...
I had every reason to believe the robbery had been called off.
When did you give him the ultimatum?
Friday morning.
The day he was killed.
And I meant it.
If the robbery had taken place, I'd have left him.
What happened then? Do you know where he went?
Yes, I do. And who he meant to see.
Sir.
Vic Lynton has entered the building.
What are you doing here, Mr Lynton?
Visiting my ex-wife, sir.
Is that a crime? I didn't know that.
Vic!
You're back with us.
Thank God.
Who did this to you, Sandy? That's what we're here to find out.
Barnaby, listen, how much longer are you going to keep me here?
Only I've got a problem with confined spaces.
Have you?
Well, in that case, for as long as possible, Mr Hawkins.
Now, will you please tell us about this pathetic excuse for a robbery?
Well, isn't it obvious?
This man, whom I now know to be Philip Trent,
came to my house in a balaclava and...threatened me.
If I didn't take him to the shop, he'd kill me,
then kill the missus, who's down at her sister's.
So I co-operated. (CHUCKLES)
What's so funny?
This is you, going on board the Arabella Jane on Wednesday night.
And THIS is you leaving again.
And THIS is you this morning.
And who's that with you?
Oh, look. It's Mr Philip Trent.
DOOR CLANGS OPEN
Prisoner said he was hungry, sir. Said he missed his breakfast.
Yes, all right, Constable.
The condemned man ate a hearty one.
Condemned? I shouldn't count your chickens.
Furthermore, I asked for ketchup. This is brown sauce.
Mr Hawkins has very kindly
given us his account of this morning's remarkable events.
May we have yours?
What, so you can play us off against each other? You'll be lucky!
And um...where's my solicitor?
Why was John Parkway aboard the Arabella Jane with you?
Given the fact that he didn't take any part in the robbery.
Solicitor? S-o-l-i-c-i-t-o-r.
Oh. I wasn't expecting you to be here.
Well, here I am.
How does Lobster Thermidor sound?
Like a celebration.
It wouldn't be a celebration without...
a bottle of... Ta-da!
You thought I'd be out celebrating with Hettie Trent.
Maybe you're right. Maybe she's not the girl for an Olympian after all.
CORK POPS Ooh! What do you think?
Well, I always knew you'd see sense one day.
To the best coach a man could have ever had.
Here's to the future you deserve, Henry.
Cheers.
So, Italy, here I come.
Oh, I thought it was Bali.
And I thought it was all off.
No, not that. Training camp.
John, the scout, said I was a dead cert for the team,
but could I pack up next Friday?
What about me?
Well, you'll get to stay here. That's what you always wanted.
How do you know what I've always wanted?
Well, I know what you said.
You don't get it, do you? This was never about me staying here.
Clare, I can't have two coaches.
They're offering me the best in the world.
The best for the best, John said.
What about all the work that I put in?
I'll always be grateful, but...
let's face it, we were just getting too close.
That's why I was able to stay out late,
get drunk with Hettie.
I won't be able to do that with the likes of John overseeing.
Will you shut up about John?
Sorry.
Dinner will be an hour.
Well, it's all yours.
And I hope it chokes you.
So, going back to the David Cooke thing, sir,
you blackmailing John Parkway with his own tape, that was...
For the good of the investigation.
There's one other thing that bothers me, sir. What's that?
Every time you deal, I get a really lousy hand.
Well, that is pure coincidence.
MOTORBIKE APPROACHES
Vic. Vic!
(Lights.)
Hit that as much as you like. It's an NHS bolster.
Scott!
Sergeant Scott reckons this is all about good old-fashioned jealousy.
I've always thought it was about money.
What's your opinion? Because you're the one who knows.
I'd say life is never as clear-cut as you both imagine.
Maybe not,
but I think I'm looking at "an irate spouse or jealous partner".
The very words you used on the day we found Guy Sweetman's body.
I told you guy was a friend.
He was more than that.
You were a...conquest of his, weren't you?
And then he ditched you for a...
..precocious, grabbing, silly little girl, Hettie Trent.
That was Guy. Anything in a skirt.
And then he meets Sandra Tate,
and he falls for her, hook, line and sinker.
Don't give it so much dignity, Sergeant.
She was just one more in the line.
Oh, no she wasn't.
Because, unlike any of the other women he knew, including you,
SHE could tell him what to do.
She told him to call off the robbery, and he did.
Was the robbery your idea, Mrs Bonavita?
You tell me.
I will. It was.
You see, I think you're a very high maintenance lady, you.
I think you've been very expensive to keep.
But once in Malta, Freddie wouldn't have to do that any more, would he?
Freddie's left me the house.
Do you know how much it's worth?
It's in the company's name. You can't get any capital out of that.
So you went to Guy Sweetman with a plan.
A plan to rob Ivan Hawkins,
collect the insurance money, sell the stolen goods.
But Guy pulled out, at Sandra's insistence.
He let me down, Inspector.
In more ways than one.
That night I went to his house.
He wasn't there.
So I waited.
Guy.
Guy, I really need to talk to you.
No point, Clare. I won't budge.
What's happened to make you lose your nerve?
I haven't lost my nerve.
I've had a change of heart.
I really need that money, Guy. You'll manage somehow.
I must have been mad to even contemplate it.
Who's been getting to you?
Some new girlfriend with a righteous streak.
Has she got money? No. But her parents do.
More than that, Clare, she puts you in the shade.
I mean, fancy falling for a beautiful, YOUNG thing like that,
when I could have you for the asking?
Then I dragged him down to the river.
Heat of the moment stuff, was it?
Yes. Yes, you could say that.
Why did you try to kill Sandra Tate?
Two reasons.
She knew all about the robbery
and would tell you all about it,
as I'm sure she has done.
And the second reason?
She spoiled my life, Inspector.
DOOR CLANGS
"Made in the 1960s, mahogany skin, brass fittings,
in need of some refurbishment,
being sold for personal reasons."
Which means they'll take an offer.
Huh! Might not take mine.
Mr Tapley said No.17.
Well, here it is.
Look.
THAT is Philip Trent's boat.
Can I tell you about the personal reasons?
We should at least have a look at it.
Come on.
All right, all right.
I don't think it needs too much work, Tom.
Bit of a clean, a bit of varnish here and there.
It'd need new curtains, of course, and new upholstery.
Mr Tapley says the engine is just fine.
Well, Mr Tapley would, wouldn't he?
I can see us now, way up river,
And then we'll park - MOOR - the boat
at one of the Midsomer villages and
we'll go round the antique fairs, maybe a farmers' market and...
Oh, my God.
Mum, what?
Thank you.
ITFC Subtitles