♪ Fresh from the fields all fetor and fertile ♪
♪ It's bloody and raw but I swear it is sweet ♪
♪ With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean ♪
♪ She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene ♪
♪ With her straw-blonde hair ♪
♪ Her arms hard and lean ♪
♪ She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene. ♪
You should have seen you guys' faces!
Spencer, you're such a jerk!
We need more wood.
I'll go by myself, then, shall I?
Come on, mate, seriously, you're not funny any more.
It's saying it's not in service.
Why not try the place in town?
This lot are mobile, they could do my nails here, if they'd printed the right bloomin' number!
Ah! How was camping?
Tense. Very funny.
No, I'm serious.
Look, a sheep killed near where we pitched.
Looked like a wild animal had ripped it apart. Eurgh!
I've heard there's been a few attacks, but nothing this close to Lighthaven.
Barely got any sleep. The slightest noise and everybody freaked out.
What did they think it was - a werewolf(?)
Probably. You know what people around here are like.
Beware... the moon!
May I remind you that you're from around here.
We're not all superstitious yokels, you know. Just saying.
Anyway, it would've been the panther.
I'll get it.
Oh, hi. Hi!
Oh. I'll get Mum.
Wait! Are you Beth?
Ben Fairhead, Lighthaven Star.
If it's about one of Mum's cases, I'm not allowed to talk to you.
I'm here about the photo you tweeted. Of the sheep.
You're here about a dead sheep?
No, I'm investigating a recent spate of animal attacks on the moors.
It's a great shot, by the way.
You've got a good eye.
Look, it won't take long.
You're not the postman!
No. No, I'm Ben Fairhead, Lighthaven Star.
French maid's costume hasn't arrived yet.
Mick will be so disappointed.
I mean, obviously, I don't really buy the whole big cat thing.
Because the only predators in Devon are seagulls... and squaddies.
Before the 1976 Dangerous Wild Animals Act, some people, crazy, rich people, they kept big cats.
And then when the law changed, there were only so many that could be taken by zoos.
What, so, people just let them go?
Where better than the moors?
Massive spaces, lots of small, furry things to eat.
Yeah, but people would've seen them.
People have seen them, but they're never believed.
Livestock's been going missing for years, but it's always passed off as road accidents or rustling.
There's at least one big cat out here, I swear.
And I'm going to find it.
It's my editor. I've got to go.
Something's kicking off.
Oh! Um... I can walk with you, if you like?
I'm going that way, anyway.
You can tell me what to do if I get cornered by a wild beast.
Yes, we are aware of the rumours.
No, there is no such thing as a big cat on the loose near Lighthaven.
How can you be sure? That sheep was found not 100 yards from my guesthouse!
I rely on the summer's tourist trade.
Well, maybe it died of natural causes and was eaten by smaller predators.
I take ramblers up there every day.
If something happens... It won't!
Am I supposed to let my flock graze on the moors, or not?
All right. Yes, the moors, they're not always safe.
You might fall down a crevasse, you might get set upon by angry badgers.
But eaten by a lion? No.
It's not a lion!
It's probably a melanistic leopard.
And it's perfectly capable of doing this.
And you have proof of this leopard, do you?
That? That could be anything.
So if none of you have anything better, then the South Dart Police have more important matters to attend to.
But...! This is proof, this is proof! We're done!
Haven't you done enough damage?
Why don't you stick to reporting village fetes and leave the real journalism to other people?!
That weren't Ben's fault!
Yeah, leave him alone!
Hey. Does this mean you've changed your mind?
I mean it, it's over.
Do you want to talk about it?
That's for me, right?
All right, thanks.
Hello, Jane? It's me.
Look, do you fancy a drink later?
I've got a favour to ask.
Yes, I'm buying.
All right, thanks.
Here he is.
Did you get me anything?
Police are a joke!
But don't worry, we've still got enough for a front page.
On the Beast? Please tell me you've got me something else?
This time, I've got photographic evidence.
I found this in a photographic archive of the moors.
And this... this is from last night.
I mean, that's no dog.
Look at the depth of the wound!
I like you, Ben, nobody can review a charity coffee morning like you can.
But you're not ready for the front page. And even if you were, I'm not printing a picture of a gutted sheep, and certainly not an out-of-focus shot of what could very easily be a bush!
Well, maybe I should write a different story, then.
The Shocking Truth Behind The Lighthaven Star!
Tread very carefully.
OK. OK, I'll print the story, IF you get me proof, proper proof.
In the meantime, we still need someone for this week's Lighthaven Life feature.
What's so funny?
I'm not asking a pathologist to do a postmortem on a sheep!
Look, if I could prove the sheep wasn't killed by a big cat, then that bunch of lunatics might leave me alone.
Speak to a vet, or DEFRA.
Anyone that's not me.
Why don't you try Paignton Zoo?
Now, they've got big cats.
My nan used to take me.
Well, at least ask!
Come on, what's it worth?
Ah! You old romantic!
Wine, dinner, cutting up a dead sheep.
I'm not suggesting you do it yourself.
Have you any idea how long it takes to get pathology reports on humans?
Do you remember Gary Salter?
Who? Tom and Elsa's boy.
He crashed his motorbike on the link road. Yeah.
His parents disputed whether he was under the influence of marijuana and it's taken weeks to get the tox report back.
So I'm sorry, dead sheep's your problem, not mine.
Ben Fairhead, Lighthaven Star.
Your daughter's nominated you to be our Local Celebrity of the Week.
Did she now?
Local Celebrity of the Week?
Blimey, you're scraping the bottom of the barrel!
Quick photo, a few questions.
Favourite song, pet hates.
Pet hates, put, "nosey reporters".
It's not really a good time.
All right. Tomorrow morning, then?
I'm not in the office, sorry.
I've got a meeting with the new undertaker first thing, then I've got to get over to Orlington.
I thought that wasn't until later?
All right, well, I could meet you somewhere on the way. Um...
Fine. I can give you 15 minutes, 10:00.
Let's say picnic area, Penketh's Guesthouse.
Amy Penketh's place?
Yeah. Is that a problem?
Yeah, yeah, it's fine. 10:00.
Just don't mention bloomin' big cats, or you'll be there all day!
Listen, it's not just sheep that's gone missing.
She went for a walk on the moors 15 years ago and she never came back.
It's not really a good time, but I'll see you tomorrow.
None of you want to believe me, but it's true!
Isn't he coming in?
He's a bit old for you, isn't he?
And a couple of lions short of a pride.
I'm not interested, I just fancied getting work experience at the local paper.
That rag? It's all adverts nowadays.
Well, either way, you could do better.
What? You said you were buying.
I'll have my usual, please.
Cider for me. Rum and Coke. Um...
All right, just Coke.
Red wine, lager, cider, Coke.
All in the same glass?
Bad day, love?
Just don't mention big cats.
Ooo! The Beast of Lighthaven, you mean?
A huge panther.
Razor-sharp claws, fur black as the night.
Many of my valued customers have seen it with their own eyes.
That's what happens when you spend your life drinking scrumpy, you get holes in your brain.
There's a cat out there, all right.
You seen it, too?
Know better than to go near people.
Still, only a matter of time before one of them gets braver.
If I were you, I'd stick to the roads and keep off the moors.
Especially at night.
Good luck with the hunt!
I'll do some sandwiches later!
Anything else? No, thank you.
Not looking for the panther, are they?
Well, that carcass was discovered down that path there.
The Beast must be close by.
Waiting for someone? Journalist.
Not that young 'un, Ben something?
You know him? Ooo, he's got a cheek, arranging meetings 'round here!
Someone's in trouble.
Those two found the body up here.
No attempt to hide it, then, is there? No.
There's plenty of nooks and crannies around here.
You got any idea yet as to the cause of death?
Take a look for yourself.
There's something else, though.
Yeah? What's that? We know him.
Maybe the Beast of Lighthaven isn't a myth after all.
It's all about the Beast.
He was obsessed!
Hey, put that down. That's evidence.
Right, so, what have we got?
Food, Thermos, sleeping bag, torch.
Looks like he was planning on making a night of it, doesn't it?
What do you think that is?
Evidence. Don't touch it.
Next of kin?
No. Parents both dead, no siblings.
We'll keep looking, though.
So, what's next? Because we both know this wasn't a panther.
You speak for yourself, because I think the Beast did it.
You're not serious? Yeah. Means no crime was committed, doesn't it?
The body's your problem, not mine.
Beth. Everything OK? Is it true?
That you found Ben's body?
Wow! News travels fast.
I can't believe it. Um...
Does Gemma know? Gemma?
Yeah, Gemma Roxwell, his ex.
They literally split up, like, a few days ago.
Do you know Gemma Roxwell?
Yeah. Runs guided tours for ramblers on the moors.
Her dad owns a farm up there.
Mum? Yeah, sorry.
I'll make sure she knows.
I'll speak to you later, love.
Good a place to start as any.
And I'm not recording cause of death as, "attacked by a big cat", until I've exhausted all possibilities.
He was nice, but...
Not The One?
How did he take it?
But he cared more about finding that stupid Beast than he did me.
All he ever talked about.
Can't blame him, I guess, not after what happened to his mum.
Eleanor Lawrence? That's right.
Fairhead's his foster parents' name.
Ben believed the Beast killed her.
He's been looking for it ever since.
Had Ben been acting strangely, or was he in any sort of trouble?
He mentioned a couple of arguments with his editor, but nothing serious.
He didn't deserve this!
I'll find out what happened, I promise.
Sorry, but... I've got people waiting, so...
Sorry to keep you waiting.
I take it you're here about Ben.
Yes, that's right.
I feel terrible.
He spent years trying to convince me there was a big cat, now he's... got himself killed by the thing.
You believe that's what happened?
Isn't it? I heard his neck was...
It's important to keep an open mind.
I understand the two of you had a few arguments recently.
Not that I recall.
A few professional disagreements, maybe, same as any newsroom.
Hello, there. Sorry to interrupt.
I thought you were out confiscating pitchforks from the angry mob?
Yeah. That's sort of why I'm here, really.
Mr Mansfield, initial findings from Forensic are inconclusive, I'm afraid.
As of yet, we cannot confirm or deny an animal attack.
So it's a friendly request, really.
If you couldn't print anything that might cause undue alarm, at least until we find out what's going on.
Emotions are already running fairly high.
I'll choose my words very carefully.
All I'm saying is stay off the moors for the next few days.
Why not stay here and enjoy a pint of my new Beast Bite cider?
If you stop folk going up to the moors, then I'll be out of business!
Surely the police would want people to catch the Beast?!
You go up there, the cat will go to ground!
All you'll do is frighten my sheep!
Prefer they were cat food?
Come on, everyone, just calm down, please!
And don't forget to pick up one of our limited-edition T-shirts, as modelled by the gorgeous Judith!
Available in all colours. Eh?
Leave it to the professionals, that's what I say. Thanks.
All right, then, professional, what is your plan?
"Now the panther has taste for human blood, the town won't be safe until it's caught." What an idiot!
Yeah. Panther isn't even a species!
I take it you got hold of someone at the zoo?
Specialises in big cats.
Did you know female lions have a larger frontal cortex than males?
I could've told you that.
Anyway, it turns out that panther is just an umbrella term for black, big cats.
From descriptions given after sightings...
..she agrees it could be a black leopard.
And Ben's wounds fit.
Leopards, they target the neck, see?
They're stealthy, solitary and smart.
Talking about me again?
Huh! You wish. What's with the bag?
Well, thanks to our friends at the Lighthaven Star, I've got to go traipsing all over the moors looking for evidence of big cat activity.
CSI report. Oh. No paw prints.
Well, if you are going on the hunt, you should take Bear Grylls with you.
He's now Lighthaven's resident big cat expert.
All right, the more the merrier.
I haven't got a clue what I'm looking for.
And I'm already a laughing stock down at the station, so...
Aw, are they making fun of you because of the nasty puddy-tat?
Yeah, count me in!
I'd kill to get out of the office.
We could take Ermintrude!
His campervan. I was joking.
Oh, please! We could call it an extended lunch break.
Fine! Two hours, max.
Don't come crying to me if you both get eaten.
Admit it, you'd miss us.
Well, I'd miss Clint.
Aw, thanks! I hate doing filing.
As for you... I'd get over you.
I'll be honest, Ben, I believe in the Beast of Lighthaven about as much as I believe in the Abominable Snowman.
You were so sure the Beast exists, weren't you?
Maybe you could've convinced me, but I guess it's too late now.
Right, we'll start over... over... there.
So, do you think we'll find it?
No, not a cat's chance in hell.
But I've got to be seen to be trying.
We'll do small circles, radiating out from where the body was found.
Keep your eyes peeled. For what?
Oh, I dunno, you're the big cat expert.
Anything out of the ordinary.
Yeah, tracks, things like that.
No. Tracks, there, look!
Yeah, car tracks.
Big, heavy one, too, by the look of it.
Could it be one of your forensics lot?
No. No, they came up the same path, from the south.
Someone else has been up here.
Just a minute.
Guilty as charged.
DS Higgins is out for your blood.
I was merely trying to warn our readership about a credible threat.
You were merely trying to sell papers.
You say that like it's a bad thing.
Regional-print journalism isn't exactly booming.
Well, luckily for you, I know the perfect way to redeem yourself.
I need access to your archives.
Can I ask what you're looking for?
Everything Ben wrote on the Beast.
I want to decide for myself if there's any truth in it.
What's over there?
That's just a farm.
Looks like the farmer's pretty worried about the Beast.
Though I don't suppose leopards are normally scared off by security cameras.
Tell me that was thunder.
Shall we call it quits for the day?
Works for me.
Hi, it's Jane Kennedy, I'm the coroner for Lighthaven.
Do you have the PM on Ben Fairhead?
Fine. Can you just call me when you're done? Thanks. Bye.
Oh, please, tell me this is a wind-up!
Do you know anything about motors?
Do I look like a mechanic?
Well, now that you mention it...
Be very careful what you say next.
Huh! No phone signal, for a change!
So, what now?
What, we just spend the night out here?
Well... it's 2:20 now.
I'm sure we could walk to Lighthaven before nightfall.
With any luck, it won't come to that.
Problems? Yeah. Any chance you can give us a lift back to town?
I was only going as far as the supermarket.
Come on, Davey, pick up! Pick up!
Hey. What's up?
Ah! I've finally got through to you.
Listen, I think I've found someone who had a grudge against Ben.
Oh, yeah? Yeah.
You know the lady who runs the guesthouse on the moors road, near where he was found?
Yeah, yeah, I know her.
Yeah. Ben wrote an article about her, saying that she had...
I'll call you back.
Could you pull over?
Ben blew that salmonella story totally out of proportion!
One dodgy batch from a supplier's not my fault!
He ruined my business' reputation!
So, you wanted to get your own back?
That's not what I'm saying!
And when we test the blood on that rug...
It'll come back as ovine.
And there's sheep's blood in your car because...?
None of your business!
I heard that the guesthouses on the north moor were packed out with tourists wanting to see the big cat, so I...
So, you staged an animal attack?
I found the sheep at the side of the road!
Must've been hit by a car.
I dumped it up on the moors, nearby where those kids were camping.
But that sheep had been ripped to pieces.
I was brought up on a farm!
Done worse things in time than gutting a sheep!
Add a few claw marks and Bob's your uncle.
I was desperate!
Since that salmonella outbreak, my bookings have plummeted.
And Ben Fairhead?
Did you stage that, as well?
Look, whatever he did to me... I... I wouldn't wish that on him.
Especially after what happened to his poor mum.
I remember seeing her picture in the paper, poor woman.
All right, Amy.
You got anything else to add? No?
Interview suspended at 15:15.
I believe her.
Yeah. What did she mean about pictures in the paper?
I thought Ben's mum disappeared.
Yeah. Ben said she went...
No. Eleanor Lawrence was murdered.
By Ben's father, Graeme.
Dumped her body on the moors.
Unrecognisable, she was.
Graeme confessed and killed himself in prison a couple of months later.
Why didn't you say anything?
Well, I thought you knew.
National press at the time.
When was this?
15 years ago.
Oh! Beth would've been tiny.
I was probably sat in my flat in Edinburgh watching Teletubbies.
I can't believe you didn't mention this!
Well, it's not something people around here like to talk about.
Ben's father was the original Beast of Lighthaven.
Don't go anywhere without telling us.
If you're looking for a bad guy, what about that Samuel Mansfield?
Nasty piece of work!
Oh, really? What makes you say that?
Well, after the salmonella story, I asked for compensation.
Instead, he rocks up in a brand-new Jaguar, threatening me with all sorts!
Hardly a good advert for a community paper.
What? Get in the car.
If times are so hard for print journalism, how come you're driving around in a brand-new sports car?
What can I say? Midlife crisis.
So I went through a stack of old editions earlier.
Like DS Higgins says, they're full of adverts nowadays.
Yeah. A lot of new clients.
Congratulations. Thank you.
Strange thing is, most of these companies, I've never heard of.
Some don't have contact details, or, if they do, the numbers don't work.
It's up to individual advertisers to check all the content.
We've done some digging and most of these companies don't exist.
Businesses, they come, they go.
People just skim over the ads, don't they?
So if I called a mobile nail salon, for example, and no-one picked up, who'd think anything of it?
Sorry, is there a point to all this?
No. No, you're right.
I'll just go back, get a warrant, come back, go through the paperwork, it'll be much quicker. OK.
A while ago, I was approached by a new media agency.
They offered me... a deal.
What kind of deal?
They pay me above the going rate for advertising space, supply all the content, I pay them a commission.
How big's the commission?
And I assume this agency pays you in cash?
Is that a crime?
No. But money laundering is.
Let's not get carried away.
So Ben found out what you were up to and you had to shut him up.
He was a bit of a prat sometimes, but I quite liked him.
I swear, I had absolutely nothing to do with his death.
My daughter took this photo.
I wouldn't know. Ben brought it in.
Reckoned it proves the Beast is real.
It's the same number Ben had on him.
Yeah, it's a holding number.
Identifies the farm the sheep came from.
So... are we done here?
No, not even close.
My friends in the fraud squad will be very happy to meet you.
Sam Mansfield, you're under arrest for money laundering.
You don't have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court.
Oh! This hold music's killing me!
I need an ID on that holding number.
You know, that editor's as crooked as they come, but I can't see him cutting up Ben like this.
Nor me. Hello?
Yeah. Yeah, that's brilliant.
Yeah, I'll let her know.
All right, thanks.
Great. So if Ben went looking for the Beast the night he was killed, I bet that's where he started.
And you said there was CCTV on the farm buildings.
Well, maybe they caught something.
Come on! Don't you want to know if the Beast really exists?
Dogs? Pathologist found a few hairs.
What if John Roxwell's holding illegal dogfights?
They're always on isolated farms like this, away from prying eyes.
Ben starts nosing around...
Got himself mauled. Yeah.
To be honest, it doesn't sound much more plausible than panther attack, but I suppose I could go and get a warrant.
Hey! Where are you going?
We're lost. I'm going to find someone to ask for directions.
Can you smell something funny?
I assumed that was your new aftershave.
No, no, no, I'm being serious.
No. All I can...
No, correction, dog. Dog.
Need more than one for a fight, don't you?
All right, easy, Fido.
You get the feeling he doesn't want anyone looking in here?
Oh, hey, hey!
You putting on weight?
You want a slap?
No, not dogs.
Well, what, then?
Enough cannabis to fuel the second coming of Woodstock.
Davey, did you hear me?
Yeah, I heard you.
Come on, John, put the gun down.
I'm sure we can talk about this.
All right, well, I have to let you know, my colleagues are on their way, so...
Shut up! Look, we're not here about the cannabis, we just want to know what happened to Ben.
How should I know?
I'm now thinking you didn't want a journalist nosing around, so you got Gemma to break up with him, only he didn't take the hint, did he?
Did he find out what you were up to and you set the dog on him?
All right, hey, take it easy.
I'm sure there's an explanation.
You just meant to scare him off and something went wrong. Am I right?
Come on, John, don't do this.
You shouldn't have come here.
Dad, what's happening?
Go in the house! We know about Ben.
You know? It's what you said, he was trespassing.
I set the dog on him.
And that's that.
No, he was your daughter's boyfriend, he wasn't some random burglar.
And if you were defending your property, why move the body, why not just call the police?
You knew you had to silence him, so you... you killed him and dumped his body on the moors to pin it on the Beast, keep people away from this place!
No, no, that's not what happened!
All of you, shut up!
Dad, please don't do this!
She's right, John, come on, don't make this worse for yourself.
Ever since that maniac killed my Eleanor, all I've been doing is... is scraping by, trying to make ends meet.
I just wanted to stay on my own land!
Well... I'm not going down without a fight.
So, what's it to be, ladies first?
Me first. If you insist.
Go in the house, Gem!
I don't want you seeing this!
Dad... It's a single barrel, isn't it?
If he fires it, then you leg it.
Please don't do this! No, John, come on, listen to your daughter!
She loves you. Can you imagine what this would do to her?!
John, please! Please!
You can make this all right!
I'm sorry! I'm sorry!
I've messed it all up!
Please, Dad, please!
John Roxwell, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Ben Fairhead.
You do not have to say anything, but...
No! Wait! Wait, wait!
Are you going to let your dad go down for murder, or are you going to tell us what really happened?
It was an accident.
Come on, John.
Ben had been drinking on the moors.
I didn't want to see him, but I was worried he'd wake up Dad.
Were you scared of Ben?
Gemma, I need to talk to you!
We have to be quiet.
Dad will freak if he finds you here.
I need to know the truth!
He was so nice most of the time, but you'd get these flashes of temper.
Please! Is there someone else?
No! This wasn't working out! Liar!
Dad had... had an affair with Ben's mother.
It went on for years.
Eventually, Ben's father found out and that's why he killed her.
So Ben convinced himself his mum was killed by the Beast, because it was easier than accepting the truth.
Wait! Is Ben your half-brother?
I don't know.
Dad doesn't know.
But when I told Ben the truth about the affair, he just went mad.
He kept saying I was lying! He kept going on and on about the Beast!
I don't care what you think!
Do you know what, I've been alone my entire life and I'm not going to let you leave me! Argh! Argh!
Then your dad put Ben's body in the trunk and left him on the moors?
I don't know if he was trying to protect me, or... he just didn't want police crawling around his farm.
Right, what do I owe you?
I reckon you deserve a round on the house, after what you did today.
On the house.
Could this day get any better?
You enjoy having a gun being pointed at you?
Thanks again, by the way.
Oh, forget about it.
I should be thanking you.
Turns out John Roxwell was providing storage for the largest drugs gang in the southwest.
And our friend at the Lighthaven Star has told us where they were laundering their money, so...
Well, don't expect your picture in the paper.
With their lead journalist dead and the editor banged up, I imagine the Star's going to be offline for a while.
I still can't believe you were willing to take a bullet for me.
Ah, don't be daft!
I knew he wasn't going to shoot.
Hey, look, some of my friends recorded this on the moors.
I knew it! I told you there were big cats on that moor!
Let me see that.
Lemonade, please, Mick.
I found it online.
I don't know whether I mentioned, I'm now taking orders for our new Beast of Lighthaven mugs, key rings and cuddly toys!