10x07 - They Seek Him Here

[bunniefuu]

MAN: No! Please, no! No!

No! Please! No! No!

(CONTINUES WAILING)

CHEERING

BOOING

(WAILS) No!

No!

MAN: Cut!

Cut.
OK, reset, everybody.

Reset. We're running out of blood.

BLEEPS

I've got something interesting, sir.
I'm tailing George Ince.

BARNABY: George Ince? Really?

'Yeah, it's definitely him.'
That is not good news.

With a bit of luck, he'll drive onto
someone else's patch.

And he's heading towards
Midsomer Magna.

Then, Jones, it falls to us
to protect

the wealthier citizens of Midsomer
from Mr Ince's thieving ways.

(CLEARS THROAT
AND MUTTERS TO HIMSELF)

How does this sound? "It is a
little-known fact that, in ,

the Hungarian aristocrat and writer,
Baroness Orczy,

was a guest of Lord Fitzgibbon
at Midsomer Magna Manor."

What's wrong?
Neville, don't. Please.

You could have let me finish.

You were going to say the woman who
wrote the Scarlet Pimpernel

based the character of Sir Percy
Blakeney on Lord Fitzgibbon,

who owned Magna Manor at the turn
of the last century.

Well...yes.

We know she never went near the
place, never mind met his Lordship.

WE know that.

Given that they're filming that very
book in the grounds of the manor,

don't you think it'll be a tad
obvious to everyone else?

You're right.

The occasional embellishment
to the history of a place,

I mean, everyone does that.
But Terence Charteris had no right

to ask you to lie to blatantly.

If I don't play along,
I lose the job.

Where else am I going to find work
in Midsomer Magna?

They're still hiring extras
on the film.

You could have a dip back into
the business, for old times' sake.

You obviously don't know
who's directing this film. Who?

Nick Cheyney.

Quiet, everyone.

Three, two, one, drop!

Cut it!

, take .

And, action!

CHEERING

Cut it.

Nick, these execution scenes -
I know, I know.

Enough blood to float an abattoir.

I'll get special effects
to turn it down.

Good grief, no. If anything, we need
more blood. Buckets of the stuff.

Know your audience.

It's not as if you're directing
an art-house movie, is it?

Ah, Jones. So, Mr Ince is here.

They're opening the place
to the public, sir.

Apparently, it's got historic
connections

with the French Revolution.
Doing a film, aren't they?

The Scarlet Pimpernel.

What you might call a remake
of a remake of a remake.

Yes, Joyce mentioned something
about it. Where is he now?

Parked up round the side.

Your informant has got to be right
about Ince setting up a job.

What other interest could he have in
a stately home?

Maybe he's come for a dose of
culture and a guided tour.

Although George prefers to guide
himself round places like this.

And usually by torchlight when
there's no-one else about.
Let's find out what he's up to.

'Three, two, one, drop.

Cut it.
, take .

Action.'

CROWD CHEERS

Something else not right about
that scene. Enlighten me.

Not enough peasants.
You want me to reshoot?

Oh, God, no. But for future scenes,
you'll need more crones and hags.

Crones and hags.
I'll see what I can conjure up.

Don't make hard work of it.
An area like this must be overrun

with yokels and inbreds.

Why don't you try the local
old folks' home. They'll come cheap.

'And drop.'

There he is.
Look who he's with.

Jed Norris!

Talk about thick as thieves, eh?

No, leave it, leave it.
You'll get nothing from him.

A word with Mr Norris might prove
more useful.

I can see exactly why you're
going for this heritage scam.

Do you have to use that word?
I'm joking, Diane.

No, I mean it certainly looks like
an authentic historical pile.

From what I gather it's getting more
authentically historical by the day.

(LAUGHS) Got a man working on it.

Local historian.

Historian?
Oh, you don't need one of them.

Dip into Hans Christian Andersen.
He was good with fairytales.

Listen, Terence...

I'm not sure how much more I can
take of Jack Braxton.

The man's a philistine.
Ooh!

You want the producer sacked, you'll
have to clear that with Diane.

Why's that?
Because they're very good friends.

I didn't even know you knew him.
He's being facetious.

I don't understand.
It may have escaped your notice,

but this marriage is on the rocks.

We're just trying to hold things
together till we get the business
off the ground.

So you and Braxton are er...

Close.
(SNORTS)

Ah!

Well, even so. He's a hatchet man.
Known for it.

He's the producer.
Money men have to be like that.

We want this film to look
as good as possible, don't we?

I mean...don't we?

Look, Nick...

I know you see this as a chance
to get your career back on track,

but to us it's just business, OK?

Right, well...thanks for putting me
in the picture.

I'd better get back to set.

Actors to execute.

I'll see you both tomorrow night,
then.

Keep up the good work.

I don't know how you can bear
that man in the house

after the way he's treated
our daughter.

How do you think Leonie feels
about this?

Diane, there's family
and there's business.

Right now, the family business
is in trouble. We need Nick Cheyney.

So Leonie's just gonna have to
lump it. All right?

Hello, Jed! I didn't think
you were due for release just yet.

Parole. Good behaviour.

Ah! Well, congratulations.

Yeah, I think they needed
the cell space.

I'm telling you, overcrowding in
prisons is criminal.

So it's not somewhere
you want to rush back to?

Never again.
I can't handle any more.

So why the meeting with George Ince?

It wasn't a meeting.

I just happened to bump into him.
Small world (!)

What's he doing here?

You don't ask people like George
their business.

No, you don't. Nasty piece of work.
So what are you doing at Magna Manor?

I'm working here.
You? Work!

That's right. Big laugh!

Excuse me.

Thank you.

No meeting between Jed Norris
and George Ince is coincidental.

Get hold of the management here.

If anything untoward happens,
I want to know about it.

Sir.

Can you get over to the props boys?

(GROANS) Nick, erm, these are the
old folk from The Cedars.

Crones and hags. As ordered.

Right. Well, get them fitted out
with rags.

I want them on set
at eight tomorrow morning.

Some of them are over ,
Mr Cheyney.

(SIGHS) Nine, then.

It's a bit late. We've gotta get
the costumes ready...

Nick?

Gwen? Gwen Morrison?

You do remember me.

Always! But, uh...

Well, it must be what erm...

years.
No! No, not that long, surely.

Well, I've lived in this village
for of them. Ever since Ted d*ed.

Ted d*ed?

So you're um...on your own, then?

No, no. I live with Neville.
You remember Neville.

(LAUGHS) Of course! Neville!

I might've known
he'd still be around.

Listen, darling,
I really can't talk now but, er...

I'll catch you later, all right?

Gwen Morrison.

WOMAN: Excuse me! Excuse me!

It's not as though you're asking me
to update the history of the Manor.

That is exactly what I'm asking you
to do.

But what you want is pure fantasy.

Erm... Your point?

It's not ethical.

And it shouldn't be part of my remit
as Events Organiser of the Manor.

(SNORTS) Don't flatter yourself.

Part-time tour guide
was all you were ever gonna be.

Were?

I need to get this place
open to the public ASAP.

Till then,
I'm just haemorrhaging money.

So I can't afford to have losers
like you holding me back.

Go on, you're fired!

What're you waiting for?

Right, bye.

How come you're at Gwen's?
It was a bit chaotic today.

Ooh, sounds exciting.
It was.

We were up at The Cedars
on charity shop business

when someone came round
from the film unit

to recruit the old folk as extras.

They need more "crones and hags".

Crones? They actually used those
terms? Not that any of us minded.

Most of us are thrilled to bits
to be in The Scarlet Pimpernel.

Us? Gwen and I volunteered
to be chaperones,

so we thought we might as well be
extras too.

Following in your daughter's
footsteps, eh?

MOBILE PHONE RINGS
Oh, hello, Neville.

Jones? 'Sir, report of a prowler,
Magna Manor.'

You think it could be Ince?
'Looks like it, sir.'

Right, get yourself some back-up.
I'll be right there.

DOOR CLOSES

Well, I challenged him...
and he fired me.

A week before the place is due
to open to the public?

I've picked up on what's happening.

Terence Charteris may live in
a manor house,

but he's a barrow boy
out of his depth.

He's over-stretched himself
and he's about to go under.

I don't think he could afford
to pay me.

Well, no great loss, if you ask me.

I mean, why not sign up as an extra?

He's round the back somewhere.
Right, Jones, off you go.

I have to tell you if he's the man
we think he is,

he has a history of v*olence.

Your husband's not out looking
for him, is he?

My husband's gone out
for the evening.

Police! Stop!

SIREN BLARES

Gotcha!

Oi!

What's going on?
Better late than never.

Diane, what is going on?
A prowler.

Prowler? Where?
Standing in front of you!

Don't be ridiculous -
he's the security guard!

Since when?
A couple of days ago.

Oh, well, thank you for telling me.

Then why did you run away?
I didn't know who you were.

I shouted "police".
Anybody could do that.

Security guard for the Manor?
And for the film set.

Made sense, him keeping an eye
on things over.
So I had a word with Jack Braxton.

Who's he?
The film's producer.

Jed Norris, a security guard?

Talk about putting the fox in charge
of the hen house.

Our friend Ince must be involved
in this.

That producer needs to know
what he's taken on.

OK, where's your Mum.

Come on, Leonie.
OK, I'm coming.

Take...take that one.

You know Gwen's got
a job as an extra on this film,

so I'm on my own in the charity shop
today. Oh, hello!

I was watching that Nick Cheyney
on set all day yesterday. What?

You didn't say anything to him?

Danny, please. You promised.
Leave him to me.

I want Cheyney out of our lives,
Leonie. For good.

Sir...five years ago,
when Ince was on remand,

he and Norris were briefly
in Causton Jail together.

They're old acquaintances.

And Mr Norris has just conned
his way into a security job.

Pull him in for questioning, sir?

Jed's not really in the same league
as Ince, is he?

Just, er, cut him a bit of slack,
keep an eye on him.

George Ince is the man
we really want

and if Jed Norris can lead us to him,
well, that'd be a result.

Come on, Gwen.
You'll get the old folk fired

if I don't get them to the set
on time.

Why don't you help Joyce with the
old folk today?

I'll stay here and look after Josh.

No, thanks. I'm not going anywhere
near that film set.

Come on, we're out of here.

Let's say bye to Auntie Gwen. Bye!

Bye, Josh.

Bye, Leonie.
Bye. Right...

Right!

MAN: All right! Mind your backs!

Out the way, please! And you!

Joyce!

Aristos to the carriage, please.

Costume checks, please.

So, you say this guy Norris
has got form?

Just a bit.

What do you recommend?
I'd like you to keep him on.

At least then we'll know where he is
during the sh**t.

And, between you and me,
he might prove a useful lead

to someone else
we want to keep tabs on.

Suits me. He has all the
qualifications I need. He's cheap.

What? Tight budget, this film?

(LAUGHS) Like a tourniquet.

We'd have half a chance if someone
other than that clown of a director

was calling the sh*ts
from behind the camera.

But you're the producer, aren't you?

I mean, don't you appoint
the director?

I do. And ordinarily I wouldn't
touch Nick Cheyney.

But he brokered the deal that got us
this location for free.

Knows the people who own the Manor.

Ah, Mr And Mrs Charteris.
Friends of yours?

No, we don't move in
the same social circles.

Lucky you. The wife's OK,
her husband's a complete philistine.

The people we have to get into bed
with to get a movie made.

Figure of speech.

Mrs Barnaby looks very fetching
in that red cap, sir.

Peasants behind the cart, thank you!

Now, I need you to start in line
with the arch, all right?

Can we get some quiet, please,
and a bit of concentration?

All right, now, the...
Let's just have a look, love, OK?

The rider's gonna come galloping in
down here, all right?

Can we finish checks now, please?

Rider comes galloping in,
gives you the news from Paris.

Get out of here, no time to lose.
Barbarous hordes on their way.

Now, you're horrified but dignified.
Remember, you're French aristocrats.

That's all right.
Can we get the coats off, please?

Quieten down!
Can we get the coats off now!

Coats off, Nigel!
Going for a take.

Right. Going for a take!
All right, standing by for a take.

Turn over!
Speed!

Sound running!
Mark it!

take .

Background action!

And...action!

Go! Go! Go!

And stop!

And run back! Go!

CAR HORN: ODE TO JOY

What the hell is that?!

Cut!
Cut!

And we've cut there, we've cut!

Reset!
Reset!

First positions, everybody.
I know that car. It can't be!

Throw him off the set.

'Scuse me, 'scuse me!
You can't park here! Ah, Nick!

Hope I didn't disturb anything.

No-one makes an entrance
quite like Raymond Clandillon.

Dying art, I'm afraid.
I try to keep it going.

Just passing? No. Thought I'd stop
for a while. Get involved.

Yeah, well I'm afraid the film's
already cast. I know.

According to this there's
not a D-list celeb

or clapped out sports star
to be found anywhere.

You've got them all.
So no room for you, then.

Oh, you can squeeze me in,
for old time's sake.

And what makes you think I want
a disruptive old queen like you

anywhere near my film?

I've given up the booze.
Really?

Smell my breath.
I'd rather not.

I need this.

Oh, what the hell.

We go back a long way, don't we?
Oh, thanks, Nick.

Show him where wardrobe is.
He can be the cart driver.

Reload! Reload, please! Are you
offering me work as an extra?

Take it or leave it.

OK.

And if you so much as look...
at a bottle of booze...

Can we do that again?

And this time, if it's not too much
trouble, can you get the timing
right?

First positions, please!

Raymond? Oh!

Is that you?

In the flesh!

Come here, you!

Oh! What a wonderful, wonderful
surprise.

I don't know about you,
but a Christmas card every year
hasn't been enough.

I wanted to see what you looked like
after years.

Well, you haven't changed.
Gwen!

Oh, all right.
A bit frayed round the edges.

But the car's still immaculate.
Well, of course. I cherish her.

If there was but one room
at the Inn,

I'd gladly stay out in the cold and
let her have shelter for the night.

You might have to.

Hello, Raymond.

Neville.
The Magna Hotel's full to bursting.

I take it you are staying?
I am.

I saw that they were sh**ting this
film in your neck of the woods

and thought it would be the ideal
opportunity to catch up with you.

I didn't realise
we'd all be working on it.

You've got a part?
Sort of.

Must dash. Have to get changed.

Raymond. That's for the extras.

I know.

Hasn't that made your day?

Working as an extra? God,
that must be so humiliating for him.

And in a film directed by
Nick Cheyney.

All aristos and peasants
back on set in minutes!

All right!
minutes, all right?

What the hell's he still doing
in your life?

I always sign our Christmas cards
from both of us.

You knew he was still living
with me.

But why? You don't owe him anything.

Ted's dead.
You're under no obligation

to look after his brother.
I know that.

So why would you want
your brother-in-law
lurking about the place?

Particularly when you're...
well, you know.

What?
Trying to entertain.

Do you mean sex?

Yes.

It must be hard enough to come by
in a dead and alive hole like this.

Oh, I've lost interest in all that.
You?

I don't believe it!

You go without something long
enough, you get used to it.

Then we'll have to get you
unused to it.

Oh, yeah? And what are you going to
do about it, you old poof?

Oooh! That's my Gwen!

CHATTER

You look as though you need that.

Well, I know how Sisyphus felt.

Is that a medical complaint?

Character in Greek mythology.

Had to push a boulder up a hill.

Couldn't relax or it would roll back
and crush him.

I'll keep 'em coming, then.
Nah, I've gotta go to the Manor.

Dinner with the producer.
Oh. You likely to be late?

I hope not. Why?

Well, I'll wait up.
We can sink a few then.

Good man. Well, I'll drink to that.

Oh, I was er...just saying.

Drink later on, when you get back
from dinner?

Oh, I thought you meant
just the two of us.

Oh, I...
Very nice of you to include me.

Don't worry Nick, I've got other
plans. I'm sure you have.

Can I help you, sir?
You certainly can.

I have spent the last years
coming out of the closet,

and you have put me back into one.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

I want a bigger room.

Taxi for Mr Cheyney. Through there,
to the left, peasants' bar.

I'll check on the computer.

All right?

Have you ridden with this guy
before? No. Why?

From the look he was giving you,

I assumed you'd forgotten
to tip him.

Oh, no, my darling. Leave it,
please. Well, it's me or Danny.

Well, does it have to be
either of you, just now?

He's got to be confronted.

So, I was thinking as an added
attraction for the great unwashed

we might open the place
to the public while you're filming.

I can't have the public around
while I'm trying to work.

Then get your arse into gear. You're
a jobbing director, not Fellini.

We can't afford to finance
your fantasies.

Leonie.
Ah, your gorgeous daughter!

Leonie, please.
This is a business meeting.

It's neither the time nor the place.

It's always about what you want,
isn't it?

Must never jeopardise the deal.

Diane, see our daughter out,
will you?

I'm sorry? You seem to have mistaken
me for one of the hired help.

Besides, I don't think she's ready
to go yet.

Oh, I am!

Don't you even think about
coming anywhere near me or my child.

MY child.

Do you understand what I'm saying?
Am I being threatened?

Yes. You are.

I seem to have lost my appetite.
Yeah, well, I'll come with you.

You're the reason I'm leaving.

Sorry, Nick. Maybe this wasn't
such a good idea after all.

Hands off my grandson, Nick,
or I'll see you dead.

VEHICLE APPROACHES

ENGINE STOPS AND DOORS OPEN

DISTANT RAISED VOICES

I promised Leonie
I'd stay out of this,

but if you go anywhere near her
or Josh...

Good God! Even the taxi driver's
threatening me now.

Is the whole bloody village
in on this?

No. Just me.

And just what has it got to do
with you?

I'm Leonie's partner.
Partner?!

(LAUGHS) How PC!

Well, partner or not,

you have no rights
where Josh is concerned, but I have.

So if I choose to get closer
to my son...

..there's nothing you can do
to stop me.

Oh, there is!

VAN DOOR SLAMS AND ENGINE STARTS

(CRIES OUT)

Hi, George.

What have you got here?

Dead five or six hours. Cause of
death, head separated from the body.

Now, that's where we benefit from
having an expert on the job.

That's enough from you.

(SIGHS DEEPLY)

It's Nick Cheyney.
The film's director.

You know him?

I saw him yesterday.
When he was in one piece.

Well, we don't have to look far
for the m*rder w*apon.

If it was m*rder.
Really?

There's no sign of a struggle

and only Mr Cheyney and Mr Braxton
held keys to the safety lock.

You think it could be su1c1de?
Except there's no sign of his key.

Who found him?
The security guard.

Jed Norris.

I spoke to him. Mr Cheyney.
He came looking for me.

What for?
Wanted me to get lost for an hour.

I have to say, I didn't expect
to see him again last night.

Again?
Yeah.

He'd been to dinner at the Manor.
Big bust up.

I could hear them arguing
from outside

and the looks they were giving him
when he left. Who?

Mr and Mrs Charteris,
their daughter,

Mr Braxton... Even the cab driver.

Was he alone on the set
when you saw him? Oh, yeah.

That's what made it all
a bit creepy. In what way?

He was so drunk
he was barely conscious.

So someone drove him there.
I never heard him arrive.

I mean, car, dead of night.
You'd hear it.

But I didn't.

Here, listen,
could I have a strong coffee?

This place is giving me the creeps.

Turning sensitive in your old age,
Jed?

Oh, yeah, yeah, that's right,
don't worry about me.

I'm only the one who found
the head in the basket.

Did you find it?
You know I did.

Or did you put it there?
No, no, no, no, no, no!

I'm not having that.

I mean, I might have a bit of form
but I'm not a violent man.

Check my record.
We know your record, Jed.

What about George Ince?

Ince was nowhere near this place
last night.

Far as I know.

All right, Jed,
go get yourself that coffee. Thanks.

What about Ince? He's a violent man.

Yeah, but he's a robber
first and foremost.

And if Cheyney had disturbed him
during a break-in,

he would have att*cked him
without a thought.

But he wouldn't have had to chop
his head off.

You know, Jones,
under the circumstances,

this is not an ideal interview room.

Who was at the dinner party
last night?

It was a working dinner.
Just the three of us.

The three of you?
Me, Nick and Jack Braxton.

Mrs Charteris, you weren't there?

No, no. It was a business meeting.

Although she did make an entrance
with our charming daughter.

Leonie turned up unexpectedly.
She left early.

After doing her best
to ruin the evening.

Why would she want to do that?

Because she's my daughter. Do you
have children, Chief Inspector?

How can you even ask that?

Do you know, you and Nick Cheyney
are two of a kind.

What's that supposed to mean?
You're both...

MOBILE PHONE RINGS
..lousy fathers!

Jones?
Oh, steady on, Sergeant.

That's a high-quality piece of
furniture you're knocking about
there. Priceless, in fact.

Sorry. It was a wrong number.

I understand you're planning to open
the Manor as a heritage site, sir?

That's right. Turns out the old
place is groaning with history.

Priceless, eh? Yeah, well,
not literally, but pretty close.

Certainly irreplaceable.
Mr Charteris...

did Braxton and Cheyney leave
together?

No, they left separately. They don't
have much time for one another.

And what state was Mr Cheyney in
when he left?

Well, he'd had a drink.
What does that mean, precisely?

It means he was drunk.
And objectionably so.

That's Nick.
As though that makes it acceptable.

Look...I suppose there's no way of
stopping this, Chief Inspector?

I'm sorry?
All the negative publicity.

Oh, that is not my department,
I'm afraid.

Mrs Charteris, what did you do
after Mr Cheyney left?

I had an early night.
(SNORTS)

Jones, what was all that
about the furniture?

We are investigating
a suspicious death

and you're going on about
a flaming cupboard.

Because it was a fake.
How do you know?

My grandad was a cabinet maker.

He was a what?
He was a master cabinet maker.

So he'd know all about
dodgy cupboards?

All I'm saying is that cupboard
was far from irreplaceable.

Ironic, isn't it?

An every-expense-spared production
and the cheap old prop

we had made up to look like
a guillotine actually works.

But you want to know if you can
carry on filming, yeah?

I was thinking more along the lines
of when.

How're you gonna find a new director
at such short notice?

On our budget, we won't!

Although Cheyney wasn't being paid,

his indulgent style of sh**ting
was costing us a fortune.

Not being paid? He was on
a profit-sharing agreement.

That's how desperate we both were.
No, I will take over as director.

Will you? You seem very pleased
at the prospect.

Mr Braxton, is there someone
who can confirm where you were

at the time of Nick Cheyney's death,
like Mrs Charteris?

What are you implying?
Mrs Charteris - she called us out

a couple of nights ago
to investigate a prowler.

She said she was just about
to go to bed. So?

Well, her husband was out.
Your car was at the front door.

OK.

Diane Charteris and I
spent last night together too.

So you are each other's alibis
for the time of Nick Cheyney's death?

Mm.
Thank you.

You can carry on filming.
But only because I want to keep
everyone together

for the sake of this investigation.
Thank you, Mr Braxton.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Freddie.

Morning, sir.

Nick Cheyney.
He was staying here, wasn't he?

That's right. I heard him come back
last night. Only he didn't.

I'm sorry, you've lost me.

He'd been for dinner at the Manor.

We'd arranged to have a drink
when he got back.

Well, I heard Danny's taxi pull up
outside.

Danny? Who's Danny?
Danny Twyman.

He's a nice lad.
Runs a local minibus.

And you recognised his voice.
Yeah.

They were having an argument.
About what?

I couldn't hear.
Didn't last long, though.

Danny drove off and I was expecting
Cheyney to come into the hotel.

He didn't.

What do you think happened to him?
We know what happened.

We're trying to work out why.

(WOMAN SNIFFS AND SOBS)

We knew him
when he first started out.

He was a louse even then.

What a waste of life.

What a wicked waste of life.

Fortunately his own, this time.

TOY SQUEAKS

Nick Cheyney - where did you
drop him off last night?

Outside the Midsomer Magna Hotel.

We have a witness
who heard raised voices.

We had a row over the fare.

Asked if I took credit cards. As if!

So you didn't drive him
to the film set?

No way. He'd already had one ride
for free.

See anyone else while you were
driving around the Manor?

Only Jed Norris hanging around.

How long have you known
Miss Charteris?

We were students together,
on a drama course in London.

Before she was pregnant?

I'm not Josh's dad,
if that's what you're asking.

I'd like to be. That's why I
followed her back to Midsomer Magna.

To help her make the break.
The break from what?

Her dad. Lets her live here
rent-free but he's a control freak.

Is that what she argued with him
about last night?

Or had she gone there to confront
Nick Cheyney?

Well, she didn't like the man.
Well, neither does her mother.

Is that because Nick Cheyney
is the father of Leonie's child?

Yes. Yes, he was.

So they were in a relationship?

He came to our college
as a visiting lecturer.

The only relationship they had
was the sort that happens

after a p-a-pint night
in the student bar.

You come and give your Auntie Gwen
a big cuddle.

Gwen, you ought to go home.
I can manage here.

Are you sure?
Cos I really do feel dreadful.

It's fine. Really.

Good morning.
Tom.

Gwen.

Miss Charteris.
You've come to see me?

Yes, yes, we have.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

and this is Detective Sergeant Jones
from Causton CID.

Miss Charteris, I understand that
you were at a dinner

with Mr Nick Cheyney last night
and you had an argument.

A blazing row would be
more accurate.

Look, Danny's phoned me.
Has he?

Then he will have told you
that we know

that Nick Cheyney was Josh's father?

What? Oh, God!

Are you OK?
No, I'm all right. Please.

No. I'm fine, I'm fine.

Gwen was just about to go home,
actually.

Nick's death has really upset her.

Err, Miss Charteris, can we, er...

Erm, yes, of course.

How did your parents react
when you became pregnant?

Oh, my dad had a top man lined up
in Harley Street.

Which you obviously resisted.
You bet.

And where was Mr Cheyney
in all of this?

Making the arrangements.
How did you know?

That's the sort of thing
Nick would've done.

Of course, you knew him, didn't you?

So your parents were aware
that Cheyney was Josh's father?

Oh, yeah.

What bugs me is how easily
Dad dismisses what Nick did to me.

It may not have been r*pe but...
he took advantage.

And did he acknowledge that
he was the father of your child?

Barely, and that suited me fine.

Until he arrived here and started
talking about getting to know Josh.

He could've been winding me up.

But I wasn't taking any chances.

By luring him to the guillotine
and chopping his head off?

Do I look like a m*rder*r?

Yes and er...Lady Arabella,
her name was.

Fine looking woman.
Beautiful.

Yes, distinct likeness,
if I may say so.

Mind out, sir.
I know, you were asking about...

This apparently is the only chalk
farm - Mr Charteris.

Oh. I've got a couple of questions
for you.

Why didn't you tell us about
the argument you had

at your dinner party
the other evening?

It was just Leonie
being bloody with Nick.

The father of her son.
Oh, you know about that now, do you?

Single mother against the world.

Hardly a single mother -
she's in a relationship.

Oh, is that what you call it?
You don't approve of Danny Twyman?

Are you serious? Went against the
grain hiring him for the evening,

but he's the only taxi in the area.

You hired him?

Yeah, paid him on account to pick
Nick up and drop him back off again.

You must have had a very complicated
relationship with Nick Cheyney.

I've known Nick for years,
Chief Inspector.

And you knew about his affair
with your daughter?

Yes.

And you still felt able to entertain
him to dinner under your roof?

That was purely business.

And you weren't in favour of
Nick Cheyney

being involved in
your grandson's life?

I'd have made sure it didn't happen.

How would you have done that?

Not by k*lling him, Chief Inspector.

But I would have stopped him.

How long had you known Nick Cheyney?

We worked on some films together.

Yeah, we looked him up
on the database.

Apparently he made
a few box office hits.

Oh, he'd known what it was like
to work with big names, big budgets.

I suppose you can understand him

becoming a bit resentful
in later life.

Gwen, stop defending the man.
Nobody ever liked him.

That's not true.

We worked with lots of other
directors besides Nick.

In the business we were known as
the Four Musketeers.

Me, Neville, Raymond and Ted.

Ted?
My late husband.

Neville's brother.

He d*ed just before we moved
to Midsomer Magna.

No children? Does that question have
any relevance?

Well, I won't know
until you answer it, Gwen.

No. No children.

Background artists for scene ,
back on set now, please!

Gwen?

Er, yes, off you go, thank you.

Touched a nerve there.
I thought I might.

Last time I saw Nick,
as he was leaving for dinner.

I was in reception trying to get
moved from my shoebox of a room.

And where were you after that?
In bed. Exhausted and defeated.

You didn't like Nick Cheyney,
did you?

No, and I did briefly entertain
the notion of trying to k*ll him

to get a bigger room, but I thought
that was a touch excessive.

Did you have any other reason
for wanting him dead?

Believe me, having to spend
the night in that single bed
was reason enough.

Thank you. Keep the change.

Psst! Psst!

Chief Inspector.
Yes?

I've been waiting to speak to you.

Why didn't you come through
to the bar? I could hardly do that.

It was Raymond Clandillon
I wanted to tell you about.

You do know they hated one another,
him and Nick Cheyney?

Well, he didn't put it
as strongly as that.

And I bet he didn't tell you why.

Nick Cheyney sacked him from a film
they were working on.

So he had a reason.
But Cheyney didn't leave it at that.

Bad-mouthed him
all around the industry.

Tipped Raymond's career
into free-fall.

Did he?
Well, thank you, thank you for that.

Just thought you'd like to know.
Yes, thank you.

Right, going for a take!

Going for a take!
Standing by for a take!

Turn over!
Speed!

Sound rolling!
Mark it!

, take .
Stand by...

and...action!

HALF-HEARTED CHEERING

Cut!
Cut!

I would like to try and clarify
something.

You are downtrodden peasants.

And these people... See?

These people have ground you
into the earth.

They've exploited you
all your lives.

You hate them with a passion.

And now it is payback time.

So when you hear the blade
slice through their necks,

I want you to try and imagine
your feelings of joyful revenge,

and let me hear it!

Right?
MURMURING

OK, reset, everybody!

Ronnie, how long with the blood?
Ten minutes.

Make it five!

Raymond Clandillon
was no fan of Nick Cheyney.

Neither was Neville Hayward.

And Jack Braxton's almost joyful
at getting rid of him from the film.

Diane Charteris loathed him.

Not sure about the husband, though.

Hurry up with that blood!

Gwen, you shouldn't be doing this.
You're still in shock.

Take it up!

I've always been a professional,
Joyce.

I hope I still am.

Then, of course,
there's Danny Twyman.

He admits having a row
with Nick Cheyney,

but he lied about the reason,
didn't he?

It couldn't have been over the fare

because that had already been paid
for by Terence Charteris.

So why should we believe that he
didn't take Cheyney to the film set?

Hello. What's going on over there?

Someone find me the unit nurse,
please.

(SNIFFS) It's not booze.

Neville!

It's worth checking,
given his track record.

Raymond?
What's going on?

How are you feeling?
I'm fine now.

Are you sure?
Yeah.

High blood pressure.

Happens from time to time.

Tell me. Why are you prepared
to work as an extra?

Got to do something
to pay the bills.

No, I mean on this particular film.

With a director who did his best
to ruin your career?

Cheyney only helped me on my way.

I was already well down that slope.

So you didn't bear him a grudge?
Of course I did.

That's exactly why I wanted to get
on this film.

You came to k*ll him.
I came to gloat.

Sorry, I'm not following that.

Look, I may be just an extra
in a rubbish movie,

but Nick was actually directing it.

And for him that was a living death.

Mr Braxton? I'm sorry.

Her head won't be underneath the
blade when it falls, will it?

No. Let me show you.

Can you demonstrate
the blade safety?

Satisfied?
Ah, yes.

But that guillotine remains under
guard at all times

and you retain the key, OK?
Fine.

Is it absolutely necessary for him
to be here while we're filming?

Well, I can have him removed,

but we'll have to shut down your
film set. If he goes, everybody goes.

Right, let's do this!

Quiet, please! Going for a take!

Quiet, please!
Stand by!

Turnover!
Running!

End board!

Stand by!

And action!

Takes some guts to put your head
where Cheyney lost his.

There's more to Gwen Morrison
than meets the eye.

Let's hope it stays that way.
Quiet, everyone!

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Cut!
Cut!

MOBILE CONTINUES RINGING

Whose mobile is that?

TURNS MOBILE OFF
Sorry!

Beautiful.

Feeling better?
Much.

But you look as though
you could do with cheering up.

I'm all right. I've got Josh.

Cute little fellow but he belongs
with his mum.

He's the last thing you need
right now, and you know it.

So what do you suggest?
A spin in my beast.

It'll put the glow back
in your cheeks again.

But I can't, I've got to wait for
the old people.

They can manage without you.
Now, come on, come on.

We'll go for a trip down
memory lane. Oh, stop it!

That argument you had
with Nick Cheyney,

It was nothing to do with
that taxi fare.

You were angrier than that.
Was I?

Yes. Nick Cheyney was trying to get
involved in Josh's life.

You couldn't let that happen.

I don't know why you were worried.

Leonie wasn't about to push you out
in favour of Nick Cheyney.

Although, successful film director,
cab driver... Given the choice...

Yes, and after all,
Nick Cheyney was the real father.

The best thing Nick ever did for
Josh was stay away from him.

Real father?

I'm the only father Josh
has ever known and that's the way
it's going to stay!

That's Ince!

With Charteris.

Yeah. I doubt they're talking
rare antiques.

Remember this? You and Ted
in the back, me at the wheel,

and Neville chewing his nails
down to his elbows.

You did drive a bit recklessly.
With gay abandon!

Reckless abandon.

Happy days!

Then why the tears?

You know why.

Gwen, it's over.

A long time ago.

We've found traces of Oramorph
in Cheyney's body.

What's Oramorph?
Morphine based, colourless.

It's a controlled drug,
issued on prescription.

Usually to terminal cancer patients
to ease their pain.

Any sign of cancer in Cheyney?
None at all.

So what is the significance of this?

Combined with alcohol, and there was
plenty of that in his system,

Oramorph would have caused Cheyney
to pass out.

So the likelihood is that Cheyney
was unconscious

before the blade fell.
I'd have thought so.

Which tells us -
That someone else was involved

and that this is now
a m*rder investigation.

Now what?

Sit yourself down, Jed.

I want you to know why you're
employed here as a security guard.

It's obvious. This place is
stacked out with valuable stuff.

Some of the pictures alone
are worth millions.

Who told you that?
Charteris or Ince?

I don't know what you mean.

They're in it together, Jed,
and you are being taken for a mug.

There's nothing in this place
worth more than a few quid.

It's all fake.
It's an insurance scam, Jed.

Once your friend Ince has cleared
this place out,

who d'you think I'll be looking for
as the inside man who let him in, eh?

With your record,
it'll be open and shut.

Charteris and Ince
know that you are no grass.

They're relying on it.
It'll be a long sentence too.

Yes, indeed it will. Especially
if he's involved with a m*rder*r.

m*rder*r?

Oh, I needed that.
Oh, you've earned those, gentlemen.

LAUGHTER

Careful, careful, careful.
Here comes the constabulary.

Being a bit loud, were we?

No, of course you weren't.
May we join you?

Yeah, yeah.
Thank you.

You're looking in better spirits.

We were remembering one of Nick's
films that we worked on.

That's me, Neville, Raymond
and er...that's Ted.

Oh, thank you.
Oh, the Four Musketeers.

That was a long time ago.

I can tell that by the togas
you're all wearing.

That was on the set of The Cross And
The Sword. A Biblical epic.

They were slaves.
I was an army commander.
I was actually on a horse.

Raymond was an actor back then.

Proper parts.
I was, yes.

You can look me up in Who's This?
of show business.

Well, you're an extra
with the rest of us now.

And it's the drink which has
brought me this far down
the evolutionary scale, Your Honour.

Shame it wasn't a solo trip.
Neville!

But no, you had to drag Ted along
for the ride.

Neville, that's not what happened.
Oh, for pity's sake, Gwen.

Your husband, my brother,
drank himself to death

and he was always there
to buy the next round.

I'm going home.

Sorry.

'Scuse me!
Hey!

Thank you!

Thank you.
Er, that's mine.

Oh, I thought you were gonna let me
keep it.

Sorry, darling.
Aw!

It's the only one I have of Ted.

"You wish once more to see me
a love-sick supplicant at your feet,

so that you can have the pleasure
of kicking me aside

like a troublesome lapdog?"

It's not working.
It's only a run-through.

He's doing his best.
He's too wooden.

He is supposed to be wooden.

He's a stiff-arsed aristocrat
who can't express his true feelings.

My husband!

A man who loves me with a passion
underneath all that.

But he can't bring himself
to tell you.

That is the whole point
of the scene.

(EXASPERATED GROAN)

Let's take a break.
Reload!

DIALS NUMBER ON MOBILE PHONE

Neville Hayward resents the time

Clandillon spent drinking with
his brother Ted, doesn't he?

Yeah, but Gwen didn't seem bothered
by it, did she?

And Ted was Gwen's husband.

So maybe Neville was jealous?
Maybe he fancied Clandillon.

Unrequited love and all that.

Do you think Neville's gay?

Well, he's never married.
He's lived with his sister-in-law
most of his adult life.

I'm not so sure about that.

Problem, Mr Braxton?
Oh, just the usual.

Why don't you get someone else
to read the scene with her?

Any suggestions?

Yeah, Neville Hayward.

Who? Neville Hayward.
There, talking to her now.

An extra? He'll be no better.

She doesn't want someone
who's better, Mr Braxton.

She wants some acknowledgement
of the tantrum she's just thrown.

You're right.

Might be worth a try.

And you'd be doing me a favour,
thank you.

Stand by! Stand by!

Right, we're getting there. Let's go
once more from the top of the scene.

And...action!

You required my presence, madam?

I assume that it was not
with a view to...

indulging in tender reminiscences.

Why not?

The present is not so glorious
but that I should wish

to dwell a little in the past.

Is it possible that love can die?

Good, good.

But you're ferociously proud,

and you're determined to get him to
express his true feelings for you.

I thought the passion you felt
for me

would outlast the span
of human life.

You wish once more to see me
a love-sick supplicant at your feet,

so that you may have the pleasure
of kicking me aside

like a troublesome lapdog?

I entreat you...

can we not bury the past?

But I understood you to say that it
was your desire to dwell in it.

And tears, tears.

Since it distresses you...

we will speak no more of it.

Unable to express his feelings
he turns and leaves.

And that is where we're gonna cut.
That's absolutely wonderful!

Are you happy?

Right, well, all we need now

is for Sir Percy to grace us
with his presence and we're away.

Jack, have you got a minute?

Neville.

That was very good, that. Very good.

And very revealing.

What do you mean?

Gwen Morrison's interest
in children?

Why did she never have any children
of her own?

It's a touchy subject.

They were desperate
to have a family.

Her and my brother, Ted.

But they never did.

Oh, well, they tried.

Three miscarriages, Gwen suffered.

And what effect
did that have on Ted?

He was devastated.

Turned to drink. Slow su1c1de.

With Raymond Clandillon for company.

When Ted d*ed,
I did what I could for Gwen...

..but I can never forgive Raymond.

That was good of you though,
wasn't it,

you know, to stay around
and pick up the pieces?

I did it for my brother.

Almost taking his place.

Up to a point.
Oh, yes, up to a point.

It's not as though you and Gwen
were husband and wife.

Sergeant. We've just been talking
to Neville Hayward.

That sounds ominous.

What's he been telling you?

Gwen, I was very interested in
your attitude towards children,

and Neville told me about
your three miscarriages.

He had no right.

Was your husband, was Ted, the
father in all three pregnancies?

Or am I right in thinking that,
in one case,

the father was Nick Cheyney?

This is none of your business.
I'm sorry but I think it is.

I am trying to find out who k*lled
Nick Cheyney.

Since I believe he was the father of
one of your unborn children,

it's very much part of
my investigation.

Where's all this come from?
From your behaviour with Josh

in the charity shop, when you found
out that Nick Cheyney was his father.

..that we know that Nick Cheyney
was Josh's father?

Oh, God!

She was just about to go home,
actually.

Nick's death has really upset her.

I couldn't believe
that I was holding Nick's son

after I'd k*lled our own.

I so wanted to have that child.

But...I couldn't do it to Ted.

Not after what we'd been through

and so I let him think that
I'd had a miscarriage.

What about Cheyney?

He, erm...made all the arrangements.

He was...good at that sort of thing.

Gwen, did you k*ll him?

"They seek him here,
they seek him there."

And now I've found him.

What the hell are you doing?
I thought somewhere private.

Somewhere suitably murky...
for a grubby little revelation.

Are you raving?
I know your secret.

You're mad!
And you do have a secret, don't you?

I know, because I have it...

..right here.

You k*lled Ted.
No.

Your own brother.

Just because he was married to Gwen.

Is that what it was with Cheyney?

Was he too close to her
for your liking?

GWEN: Leave the village? Why?

You can see the way
Barnaby's thinking.

That we're in this together.

That we've exacted some kind of
revenge on Nick Cheyney.

And why would he think that?

Because he knows
Cheyney wrecked your life.

So trust me, please.

We have to leave this village
if we want to be together.

We are together.

You know what I mean.

Neville, I don't want to talk
about this.

No. I'm not allowed to mention
the way I really feel.

Talk about that love
that dare not speak its name.

Now you're being histrionic.

You can give yourself to a callous
bastard like Nick Cheyney...

Stop it!
Where did I go wrong?

Made the mistake of actually caring
for you,

instead of treating you the way
every other man in your life did,
except Ted.

How many times did you expect him
to look the other way?

He never knew.

In our business? Impossible.

You must have known
you were destroying him.

But you kept on playing the part.

"Poor Gwen, she was so in love
with Ted."

Must have been to put up with
that brother of his all these years.

I know why you've put up with me.
And it's never gonna happen.

And if you can no longer accept
that, then you'd better leave.

Now!

MAN: Tom, you got five?

Oh, Raymond. It's you.

Not still down in the dumps?

I've just had a terrible row
with Neville.

Well, that's not difficult. Here.

Have a few swigs of this.

I thought you'd stopped drinking.
I have.

But I'm like an old Saint Bernard

bringing succour to those
that need it.

So, you'll be on until two o'clock
and then...

You haven't seen Gwen, have you?
No, not for a while.

But she wasn't feeling too good
earlier on.

She might have gone home
with Neville, then.

More than likely.

Oh! Ron, Maria!

(WHISTLES TO HIMSELF)

(MOANS)

ENGINE HISSES

Are you all right?
Bloody but unbowed.

In fact, not even bloody.

What happened?
Had one of my turns.

Came off the road.

Still feel a bit groggy.
Right, I'll call for help.

Thanks. Mine's in the car.

Where are you going?
I forgot to turn the engine off.

No, wait a minute. You wait there.
I'll do that.

Right, rescue vehicle's on its way.

Now, come on, Raymond.
Let's get you to A&E.

Oh, there's no need for that.

Yes, there is.
Come on, no arguments.

You've gotta be checked out.
Come on.

Uh, tell me.

You and Gwen Morrison...
Why do you get on so well?

I suppose it's because we both
once cared for the same man.

I thought you were supposed to be
going out at eight.
It's nearly nine.

It's a girls' night out.
It's nothing to do with you.

Let's drop the pretence.
You're spending the night
with Jack Braxton.

Of course. I'm simply keeping up
the facade of civilised duplicity.

Enjoy your evening with...Lady
Blakeney, or whatever her name is.

Diane...

Just because I used Cheyney
for my business,

don't think that made me despise him
any the less,

or myself for having anything to do
with him.

Why are you telling me this?

Did you k*ll Nick?

I'm just saying...

I'm sorry it had to come to this.

Why didn't you say that
while there was still time?

ALARM ACTIVATED

DIALS NUMBER

BEEPING

LORRY ENGINE

LIVELY CHATTER

Terence.
Oh...

At the risk of sounding
a little corny,

a beautiful rose
for a beautiful lady.

Oh, you shouldn't have. (SNIFFS)

Special occasion?
A special drink for a special lady.

OK, don't move! That's enough Ince!

Cuff him!

I mean, I love the idea but,
does it have to be the Sixties?

It makes it much more expensive.

I know but we've got it down to
about three million dollars.

We've got a production company
in Maryland... Mr Charteris.

Oh. Chief Inspector.

There's been an attempted robbery
up at the Manor.

Terry.

Uh...attempted?

Yes, sir, attempted.

Fortunately, we caught them
in the act.

You don't seem very pleased, sir?

DISORIENTATED COMMOTION

Not very vigilant, Jed.

I was going to give you a ring, Jed,

but I thought you'd prefer to hear
the news in person.

All rounded up. Didn't have to use
the thumbscrews on Mr Ince.

He's already given us Charteris's
name.

And yours. Just as well you decided
to change sides, eh?

So a big thank you.

By the way, somebody tried to break
into the props store earlier.

But we didn't find anyone.
We?

Me and your PC,
guarding the guillotine.

Constable!

Give me the torch!

Oh...

Oh, my...
Gwen.

There's no sign of Neville
and his car's missing.

I've put out an APB.

Ah! The law never sleeps, eh?

A bit early in the day
to come calling, though.

Could say the same for you. No car.
I've come to cadge a lift from Gwen.

What?

Gwen Morrison won't be going to work
today.

(MOCK GASP) Full name?
That sounded official.

Gwen... Gwen's body was found
at the guillotine

in the early hours of this morning.

Body?

She's been beheaded.

I keep trying to picture it
and block it out of my mind
at the same time.

Oh, God.

How's Neville taking it?

Well, we'll know that
when we find him.

Gone missing?
It appears so, yes.

Well, does that mean...?
Does it mean what?

Well, Gwen dead.
Neville gone missing...

Do you think it's likely
that Neville would have harmed her?

Gwen? No, no. He'd love to get me
under that blade, but Gwen, never!

There's no love lost
between you two, is there?

I'm afraid I might be partly
responsible...

..for him disappearing.
What's this?

An anonymous letter.

Well, it was sent to Ted
anonymously, anyway.

Telling him about his wife
and Nick Cheyney.

Did Ted know
who was responsible for this?

No but it had to be from somebody
wanting the marriage to break up.

Someone who was willing to spend
years of his life with Gwen

without ever letting
his true feelings show?

That's why you're
the Chief Inspector.

Took me years to work that out.

What did you do with it?

Oh, I confronted him with it
yesterday.

A grubby little revelation.

He was a snivelling wreck.

Because I have it...

right here.

'Especially when I threatened to
show it to Gwen.'

And what would that achieve?

It was a bluff.
I wouldn't have done that to her.

But Neville didn't know
you were bluffing.

No.

I thought he deserved to sweat.

You know, Raymond, if Neville felt
that strongly about Gwen,

it must have been hard for him
just living with her as a friend.

t*rture. But you'd be surprised
how little someone will settle for
when they're in love.

Mr Braxton...

You know why I'm here.

You're closing us down.
That is correct.

Before you make the announcement,
may I just say a few words?

Make it brief.

Ladies and gentlemen.

Could I have your attention, please?

Quiet, please!
We're going for a take!

Quiet, please!
Quiet, please!

Thank you. Erm...I just wanted to
say a few words about Gwen.

Most of us knew her
in some capacity or other.

The people of the village remember
a compassionate and caring woman.

The more venerable among us
in the acting profession

knew that side of her too,

but we also remember a performer
who was game for anything.

Who can forget the leather bikini,
the whip and the stuffed swan?

The Lovely Leida.

Well, the point is Gwen was
a very special person,

and however we choose
to remember her,

we should do our best
to keep that memory alive.

Thank you.

"The Lovely Leida"?

There was a side to Gwen
that you knew nothing about
in Midsomer Magna.

So Gwen hadn't returned home

by the time you left the house
yesterday evening, right?

I didn't expect her to.

Why is that?

I thought she was deliberately
staying away till I'd gone.

Had she asked you to leave?

Where did you plan to go?

Plan?

Do I look as though I had a plan?

You know, everything points to
Neville Hayward, sir.

Except for the fact that we picked
him up at a -hour diner

and the staff say he'd been sitting
there since yesterday evening.

All during the time Gwen Morrison
was guillotined.

So we let him go?

Yes, well,
we've got no choice, have we?

Tell him not to leave the house
without notifying us.

DS Jones. Yeah.

Take Neville Hayward home, please.
Thanks.

On my way home, Tom.
George.

But...we found traces of Oramorph
in Gwen Morrison's body.

Did you?

Enough to render her unconscious
before she was k*lled?

Definitely.
So they were both unconscious

by the time the k*ller laid them
under the blade of the guillotine.

That's why there was no sign of a
struggle from either her or Cheyney.

I still don't see how it's possible

to get them there without being seen
or heard.

No, me neither. Especially Gwen.

I mean, OK, the k*ller broke into
the props store as a diversion

but that wouldn't have given him
the time he needed, would it? No.

Unless...

Unless the body was already
at the guillotine.

The cart full of headless dummies.

Sir?
Headless dummies, Jones.

He should have been driving them
away from the guillotine,

not towards it! George...

Come back, I want you to be part of
this. The Oramorph.

you said it was available
on prescription, yes?

At any high street chemist.
Or hospital pharmacy.

That's how he knew where it was.

Raymond, let's get you to A&E.
Oh, there's no need for that.

Oh, yes, there is.
Come on, no arguments.

When I drove him to the hospital
there were roadworks.

There were diversions,
but he knew the way round them.

Because he'd been there before.

Is he suffering from
terminal cancer?

Any way of confirming that, George?
A post mortem.

Well, use your clout
with the hospital.

Not in my remit.
Thank you, George. Thank you.

I don't any more, as you know.

But I thought you might like
a little pick-me-up.

Oh.

You suspected, didn't you, that
Neville was in love with Raymond

and jealous of him spending so much
time with Ted.

That's when I thought Neville was
gay, but he isn't. But Raymond is!

What if, during the many hours he
spent consoling Ted

in the various pubs and bars,
Raymond fell in love with him?

Without Ted realising?

And when Ted d*ed of the booze
and the broken heart,

caused by Gwen and Cheyney,

then Raymond would have been
devastated and very angry.

But why wait years
to take your revenge?

He's dying.
He's got nothing left to lose.

He's settling old scores.

And his car...

I didn't realise
it was still running.

His engine was still running...
but I couldn't hear it.

It explains why Freddie Greenaway
didn't hear a second car engine

outside the hotel the night of
Cheyney's m*rder, doesn't it?

Clandillon took Cheyney to the film
set in his car.

If he was in love with Ted,

he'd have a reason
to k*ll Cheyney and Gwen.

And Neville Hayward...

for sending Ted that letter.

DOORBELL

No sign of movement, sir.

Film set.

(RAYMOND GROANS)

RUNNING FOOTSTEPS

Chief Inspector.

I must applaud your sense
of the dramatic.

Unfortunately, your timing's
just a little bit out.

There is no point in this.

Oh, I think there is.

I'm not prepared to let the people
responsible for Ted's death...

go unpunished.

But you've already done what
you've set out to do, haven't you?

You came to Midsomer to catch up
with Nick Cheyney

and you've done that.

And having Gwen here made it so much
easier to lure him to his fate.

'You waited outside the hotel

for him to get back from his dinner
at the Manor.

And you knew he'd be drunk,
didn't you?

And then what? I suppose you told
him that Gwen wanted to see him?'

'Given the history between them,
I knew he'd be curious.'

(LAUGHS) Top quality malt.

I knew it!
I knew you were still drinking.

I suppose you know this means
you're fired. Finish it off.

'The whisky was spiked with
Oramorph.'

You have been doing your homework.

And then what? I suppose you parked
a little way away from the film set

and advised Cheyney
to get rid of the security guard

so his meeting with Gwen
wouldn't be seen.

It's as though you were there.
You're dying, Raymond.

Why would you be bothered about
being caught?

Well, I wasn't.

And there was still Gwen and Neville
to be taken care of.

Raymond... Cheyney I can understand.
Neville, yes, maybe.

But Gwen? I mean, why Gwen?

Surely Gwen was the...chief victim?

Victim?!

Gwen was a more than willing partner
in their squalid little affair.

So in your eyes
she was as guilty as Cheyney.

More so.

Oh, Raymond. It's you.

'I bided my time.

Gave her a few swigs
from my hip flask.

Specially prepared.'

'Whisky and Oramorph.'

Do you know, Raymond?
You are doing him a great favour.

You think so?
Yes, I do.

He wouldn't want to wake up to
the memories he'd have to live with.

CRUNCH
Don't come any closer, Sergeant.

(MOUTHS)

A rather squalid attempt at
reverse psychology, Chief Inspector.

But it's worked.

He'd much prefer oblivion...
to a living hell.

Here.

You want this.

No, not really.

I had that lock changed.

I wanted to see what you'd do.

And I made the noble gesture.

Appropriate, really...
the Scarlet Pimpernel.

"It's a far, far better thing
I do..."

That's A Tale Of Two Cities.
Is it?

Typical of my life.

I'm in someone else's story again.

By the way, thanks for telling me
about changing the lock.

Oh, sorry.
I was sweating cobs back there.

Yeah, sorry.
It was a last-minute decision.

Oh, it's just as well.
He was going for the hat trick.

I mean Cheyney, Neville,
I can understand.

But I had no idea how he really felt
about Gwen.

I think he'd be very pleased,
very proud,

if he could hear you saying that.
Sir?

Well, obviously he saved
his best performance till last.