12x02 - Secrets and Spies

[bunniefuu]

Schnell. Machst du schnell.

Danke.
Bitte Joseph.

Jetzt.

Ech Verstanden. Achtung.

Jawohl.

Allenby House?

Up there, mate.

Come on.

Oh, for God's sake!

That you, was it?

Well, I don't see anyone else
around here.

No. Nor do I.

Could you move your mutton
off the road, please?

Oh, yeah.
Thank you.

Right away, Sir.
Thank you.

I'll just leave this here.
Hmm? Right.

OK?
Hmm?

Oi! Whoa!

Oh, my God, what are you doing?!

Oi!

Hey, don't just walk away!
Get this off of here.

Oh, my God. Look at my car! My car!

And it was you who discovered
the forced entry, was it, sir?
No, Joyce, no.

I'm not going to go out on Sunday.

Sunday is my day of rest.

Sir...

We'll talk later.

What is it now, Sir Malcolm?

Look at the time, you dim ninny.

It's five o'clock. Rush hour.

You bring us this way,
we'll be here till breakfast!

Take us past the community centre
and then on up to the crem.

Right, Sir.

What's all that about?

Sir Malcolm Frazer has but a passing
acquaintance with reality.

He's rehearsing his own funeral.

He thinks they're coming to get him.

Which they?
Oh, God knows.

I just wish they'd hurry up.

Sir...
What?

..I don't suppose you've heard
anything about my application for -
No, Stephens, I have not.

And even if I had,
I couldn't possibly say.

So...you could know something then?

Go away.

Agh!

You stupid... Agh!

What was that for?

This...is a grenade, old son.

If you don't whack it
out of the ground,

we all get blown to hell.

Gently does it. Watch the varnish.

You see? Couldn't be easier.

Roll out and roll on.

Hey-ho, away we go.

Come on.

That's the ticket. Now...

..during the final hymn...

♪ Bread of Heaven

♪ Feed me now and ever more

♪ Ever more ♪

Unity up here in the pulpit.

Don't want the vicar doing it.
Complete faffer.

You press the button here, which
sends me down to my last little
journey to the barbecue.

And so from box to earth.

Any questions?
Can we go home now?

Gonna k*ll someone some day.

Not if I get him first.

Oi! You! Wells!

Hang on, lads.

Ooh, here we go.

What do YOU want? Just slumming.
How are the Peasants XI today?

Ready to take you
pack of tossers apart.

Thrashed you last year.

Yeah, ball tampering. Bent umpire.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

Good, jolly good. Let's keep it
for the game shall we?

We'd like you to change your umpire
this year. Why?

Because Sir Malcolm is half blind.

I am not.

Who do you have in mind?

Anyone who isn't biased, bent,
or bribed.

You cannot be serious.

You could balance out some of Sir
Malcolm's more daft decisions. No.

It might not end in the usual
punch-up if you're there.
You're not listening to me.

Jones, Sunday is my day off.
I'll be in there watching the telly,
brain in neutral.

After you've fixed the down pipe
and talked to the neighbours
about their hedge,

and gone to the garden centre.

What-ho, young Jarvis.

Sir Malcolm, this is now
a safe house, right?

This is our home.

Which you rent to the government,
correct? Yes, your point being?

I've just walked in unchallenged.
We knew you were coming.

That...that is not the point.

Tomorrow a VIP is arriving.
Everything must be in order
vis-a-vis security.

Who is coming?
Classified.

We have the highest clearance.

Not for some time.
Listen, chummy, I was running Berlin
while you were in nappies.

Nicky and Jenny were operatives when
you were pushing your first pen.

And now you're running a specialised
B&B, so get used to it.

And make sure these CCTV cameras
are working.

Oh, we don't like him, do we?

No, we don't.
Don't you dare. You leave him alone.

We need the money.
Allenby needs the money.

And I need a drink.

I was a spook once.

You were not.
I was.

When I graduated from Bramshill...

..they asked me to join MI .

Why?

Cos I spoke Russian.

But you don't speak Russian.

No, they got the wrong person.
They wanted Brenda Packard.

Brenda? In our W I?
Grows big vegetables?

That's the chap.
She's been with MI for years.

Goodness.
I tried it for a few months.

Security officer, grade .

Drank gallons of weak tea
and, er, played cricket...

..in the corridors.

You never told me any of this.

Well, no, Joyce. Secret, innit?

There are basic
areas in cricket rules.

And they are split
into numbered sub-headings,

which produce thousands and thousands
of sub sub-clauses.

I will never forgive you for this.

What's happening?

Bossy woman came in looking for you.

Wouldn't give her name,
but left you this.

A lot of numbers.
Thank you.

Also, break-in at the museum.
Nothing missing, though.
Think you can handle that?

I'll do my best.

So what is it?

It's a substitution and multiplication cipher
based on a pre-agreed word,

then given its numerical
position in the alphabet,

multiplied by the date of delivery
and sent in five-number sections.
So what does it say?

I haven't the faintest idea.

Morning.
Morning. Ah!

Woman Police Constable Stephens.

I have a letter here for you.

Oh, maybe it's not for you,
because it's addressed to...

..Detective Constable Stephens.

Do you think you could phone
next time, please, Brenda?

I like to keep my hand in.

It took me two hours
to work this out.

Oh, a beer. Thank you very much.

The beer's for me. Lemonade for you.

So how's the daughter, then?

Forever in your debt.

As am I.

You're not really retired, are you?

Let's just say I tend to work more
form the garden these days.

So what can I do for you?

Allenby House.

The company, in its wisdom,

has decreed that it should be
a safe house.

Safe house? Run by Malcolm Frazer?

What sort of dr*gs
are they on?

Relatively safe house, then.

A stopover for people on sensitive
government business.

Good food, comfy beds,

and the odd, er...

..whatever they need
to keep them happy and cooperative.

I do not approve.
Your approval is not required.

But your expertise could be.

I was hoping you might pay
an informal courtesy call

and check that everything
is tickety-boo at the funny farm.

Why can't you do that?

Because I am the left hand that
doesn't let the right hand know
what it's doing. Oh, the great game.

Mr Kipling wasn't just a jam tart.

Your health.

Sir.

Morning.

Mr Barnaby.
Yes.

I gather you were once one of us.

Just passing through.

Pity. We might have ended up
on the same desk.

He's in the library.

Thank you.

Silk is best. Nylon would really
irritate the skin.

I'm sure you're right, Sir.

What brings the plod round here?

I gather that your house, has been
inducted into the service of Queen and country.

I had no choice. Allenby soaks up
the dosh like a sponge.

And I wondered if you needed any help
with security, anything like that.

Oh. Well, that's very good of you.

Yes, yes, what do you want?

I was just wondering
who your visitor was.

This is DCI Barnaby. He's offered
to double check the security
stuff for us.

How kind. But I think you'll find
our arrangements are...

..probably beyond the
expertise of a country policeman.

Barnaby worked for the company
when you were about .

Well, isn't that interesting.

But we can manage fine. Thank you.

Is it illegal to strangle
nasty little weasels?

I think it's actively encouraged,
isn't it, Sir?

They don't seem to have stolen
anything.

Are you sure? Well, I haven't done
a total check,

but they certainly didn't take
anything valuable.
Nothing vandalised?

Bit of a mystery, Mr Jones.

Certainly is, Miss Watson.

Are you ever coming round again?

I can't sleep with a suspect.

Suspect? Well, you could have done
it yourself.

An insurance scam.
You big chicken.

How about tonight?
No.

Look...

..just...check your stock
and give me a call.

At the station.

It wouldn't take long.
I'd be gentle.

Oh, you are...

I'd still respect you. (GIGGLES)

So...who's the grand fromage?

Dear God.
Geoffrey Larkin.

I recruited him years ago
straight out of Causton Grammar.

Best young batsman
this county ever had.

Sir Malcolm.

Long time no see.

Damned traitor.

SIR MALCOLM: Hurry up, Seth.
Get a move-on.

Sir Malcolm. I'd like to thank you.

What for? For getting me on board
the biggest gravy train ever.

I don't find that funny.

If I'd had my way -
Malcolm...

..Geoffrey's our guest.

Government's guest.

When I was a lad, this house was
just a sort of...

..unattainable concept
on the horizon.

Now I could buy ten of them.

Amazing how the world turns,
eh, Malcolm?

Are you still playing cricket?

Whenever I can.
How about tomorrow?

We have the annual match
against the village team.

As a house guest,
you'd be eligible to play.

Mr Larkin is here
for important discussions
with government ministers.

He's not here to waste time
playing cricket.

I'll think about it.
I really do feel -

I said I'll think about it.

Well, whatever we can do to
make your stay more pleasurable...

You must be a boy scout.

Morning.

Morning all. And a lovely morning
it is, too.

Looks like a serious breakfast!

Nicky?
Father?

Father...

..it's been too long.

He asked what I'm up to.

So... (IMITATES MORSE CODE)

Don't be so damn rude.

Could we have a little less morse
code. I've got a terrible headache.

I was just saying I'd be delighted
to play for their team
against the village yobs. Fantastic.

Being a former yob myself,
I know how they think.

Don't I, Malcolm?

See? The throat.

Look at the throat.

Torn, slashed, ripped right out.

Yes, I can see that, Mr Comfort.

So what done it, eh?

Probably...a dog.

A dog?

What kind of dog done that?

That ain't no dog, woman.

No dog's that vicious.

So what do YOU think it was?

Obvious, ain't it?

The beast.

The beast?
The beast.

The beast has returned.

Just like they said it would.

You'd best be catching it
before it does more than sheep.

Sergeant.

Thank you so much
for your assistance.

This way, please, sir.

Just through there.

The big foot and mouth.
He lost his cottage.

Life's been a bit...too much for him
since.

Ben...

..what do you think?

I mean, how plain are plain clothes
supposed to be?

Erm...'The umpire shall make frequent and
irregular inspections of the ball.

In the event of any fielder changing
the condition of the ball unfairly,

the umpire shall change the ball
forthwith.

Rule , sub-section ...'

Going somewhere?
I believe in meticulous planning.

And turning every situation
to your own advantage.

You were the one that did that.

You betrayed our whole ethos.

(SCOFFS) Oh, dear, oh, dear.

Naughty Geoffrey Larkin.

Didn't go to our school.

Wasn't a member of our club.

And worse of all, got very rich.

What do you want?

November the th, .
Ring any bells?

Berlin wall came down.

Right. End of history.

And guess who was one of the first
people clambering over the rubble

to have a squizz at the East German
files, eh?

Yup. Geoffrey Larkin.

Walked away with suitcases
full of fascinating documents.

Typical.

I recently came across one old file
marked...

..Wolfman.

Hello.

You've gone all pale.

Blood pressure having
a bit of a plummet?

Wolfman, whoever he was,

liked to feed at Wilhelmstrasse.

The British Embassy.

Would you like that file,
Sir Malcolm?

I don't do deals with traitors.

BARNABY: You want what?
Since our guest at Allenby -

Geoffrey Larkin.
Whose identity is classified
information.

Not in the pub, it isn't.

Since our guest at Allenby has seen
fit to play cricket at this village
match this afternoon -

What? No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, he can't do that.
He played for the county.

But as a guest at Allenby, he has the
correct residential qualifications.

I've already cleared it.
Well, thanks a lot (!)

Jones...

Excuse me. Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Jarvis,
you were saying.

I would like you to provide extra
men at said cricket match

to ensure his safety.

Policemen?

Obviously. This is a matter
of national security.

Well, I'm very sorry, Mr Jarvis,

but all my men are fully occupied
serving the local community.
Why don't you ask Scotland Yard?

Are you refusing my request?

(AS YOKEL) Well, happen as maybe
I am, Sir, yes.

Ah, right.

Bye, Inspector.

Be it...on...your head.

You precious little...

I can't believe you OK'd Larkin to
play for Allenby. That's so unfair.

Look, maybe if you'd chosen
another umpire,

he might have made
a different decision.

What do you think of this one?

Not yet!

TANNOY: Boys and girls, welcome
to the annual match between Midsomer
Parva and an Allenby House XI.

Weather set to be fair, we hope,
and the umpires and captains
have taken to the field

to see who wins the toss.
Let's wish both sides good luck

and may the best team win.

Oh, erm...tails.

Hmm.
It's, erm, heads, Father.

What?

Oh, yes, yes, so it is.

Right, well done, Nicky.

So, Allenby to bat.

We're gonna m*rder you.
Jolly good, bring it on.

Toff git.
Peasant trash.

Oi, oi. No sledging.

One sign of trouble
and I'll cancel this match.

You can't do that.
Oh, yes I can.

So...shut up, pad up,
and play the game.

Right. Good.

Get in, lads!

Five minutes!
You know Sir Malcolm is half-blind?

I had noticed. So you'll overrule
any of his really daft decisions?

Just bowl, Jones.

Come on, lads, be sharp!

Play.

Howzat!

Not out.

It was lbw!

Not out?!

Unbelievable.

Good call.

Not out.

Not out?!

For God's sake,
his stump's in flaming Guildford!

What?

Oh. I...I'm sorry, Nicky,
I can't really dispute that one.

That's all right, Father.

Howzat!

No ball.
What?!

Your foot was over the line. Yards.

Get on with it.

Catch it!

Catch it!

Oh, thank you (!)

ANNOUNCER: Batting at number five
is Geoffrey Larkin,

a former star of the Midsomer
Under- s. Welcome home, Geoffrey.

I'm gonna chop you into little
pieces. Pulverise your sorry arse.

I'll look forward to that.

SIR MALCOLM: No ball.

Oh, come on, Dave!

I don't believe it.

ANNOUNCER: Well, played, Allenby.

They scored for five
in their innings.

So, Midsomer Parva,
that's your target. .

Whose side are you on, Sir?

Same as always, Jones.
The side of decency, justice
and the American way.

I'd like to protest about the
inclusion of a former county player
in the Allenby team.

Yes, he did m*rder you, didn't he?
Well, it's typical Malcolm Frazer.

He was always a devious so-and-so.
Objection overruled.

A-ha.

I am enjoying this job.
Playing God in a limited universe.

Fantastic innings.

Thank you.

You're very good at scoring,
aren't you?

What do you think, Tom?

You can't give lbw from square leg.

Yes!

Dead man.

Dead man.

Show me the ball, please.

Thank you.

This ball has been scratched.

No, no, no, just normal...
wear and tear.

What the hell are you doing?

This button has been filed down
to form a cutting edge.

I'm not a detective for nothing.

Come on!

New ball, please!

Yes!

ANNOUNCER: Bit of a collapse
for the village team, I'm afraid.

Last man in at number eleven.
Seth Comfort.

Couldn't be much closer.

Just one ball remaining
and the light's fading fast.

Allenby need that last wicket,

and the village needs to runs to win.

VOICE FROM CROWD: Come on, Seth.

ANNOUNCER: Oh, dear, that's it.
It's all over.

Allenby are the winners.
Congratulations.

His foot was over!

ANNOUNCER: Hold on,
there's a protest of some sort.

He touched the rope. It's a six.
No, he caught it. We won.

Mr Barnaby?
Oh, I'm sorry, I was...unsighted.

Aagh!
It's all over. We've won.

The hell you have. We won.

Oi!

ANNOUNCER: If people could just stay
off the pitch, please.

Clear the pitch...

I... Oh, this is really dreadful.

Sir?
I am off duty.

But I've rostered you on.
I'm sure you can handle it. Bye-bye.

MAN IN PUB:
Scored again, have you, Andy?

WOMAN IN PUB: What a cheek!
MAN: Ignore him.

Whatever else, this m*rder had
nothing to do with the cricket.

How would you let this happen?
I warned you, I told you -

Calm down. Just walk away. Walk away.
Calm...? It's a disaster.

Mr Comfort, we're recording.
Go ahead. Hello? Hello...

I told 'em, I warned 'em.

It's the beast. The Beast of
Midsomer.

I told 'em it were the beast.
Yes, I did.

You're soft in the head, Seth.
Shut up.

You'll see, you'll see.
Jarvis.

Is...is...is it important?!
It's important, yes!

What makes you think a wild beast
is responsible, Mr Comfort?
The Midsomer Chronicles,

Deacon Henry of Causton writ
that when the badness shall come,

so shall the beast of vengeance...

..and that.
Thank you, Mr Comfort.

Yeah.
OK, wrap it up, Bob.

Multiple lacerations, varying
in depth and intensity.

Agricultural tool?
Unlikely.

More like some sort of claw.
Claw?

Eagle? Lion?
Bigger.

Bigger than a lion?

These are very deep gashes, Tom.

Not dissimilar to those evidenced
on certain sheep recently.

Oh, so it's the Hound
of the Baskervilles?

Have to keep an open mind.

I think you should keep on digging.

Not my fault that the world
isn't all black and white.

Jones!

Right, I want them all in the
library, including the staff.

There's a straightforward procedure
in a police investigation like this.

We ask you questions,
you try and answer them,

and please add any information
you think may help our enquiries.

Detective Sergeant Jones here
and myself - Excuse me, Inspector.
Could I have a word?

Please.
In private. It's very important.

Excuse me.

Yes? These people cannot answer
your questions.

I beg your pardon? They've all
signed the Official Secrets Act.

As it pertains to national security,
it will be investigated by security services.

Oh, no, Sir, this is a m*rder
investigation in an area for which
I'm the senior police officer.

Those people will cooperate with me
or I will lock them up.

It's a shame you didn't heed my
earlier request for assistance.

Yes, I have him here.

Hello? Who is this, please?

Really. And what do you want?

Sir, I...

Where...?

Do we have a problem?
You have no jurisdiction.

The hell I don't.
You also...signed the Act.

I...

This was a million years ago.

It still stands. Oh, no, Brenda,
I'm not having this.

All this MI Mickey Mouse gump.
I don't give a damn.

This is my investigation
and you are not going to stop it.

Stubborn as ever.

We always win, Tom.

You lot think you have the power,

but we're the real bullies
in the playground.

Sorry.

Set up a road block
outside Allenby House.

List me the lot of them.

I want details of everyone
who goes in and out.

Don't you think that's being
a bit petty, Sir?
A bit counter-productive?

Would you kindly do as you're told,
please?

I do think we need to try
and work together, as a team.

This can't stand.

We cannot have a state
within a state.

Absolutely.
And if it hadn't been for me,

that Brenda Packard woman
wouldn't still be in her job.

I thought she was retired.
Oh, they never retire, Joyce.

They're vultures. They just change
trees now and again.

You've been suspended before.
Yes.

Well?
What?

You just got on with it
until they came to their senses.

I can't even speak
to the sodding suspects.

I am banned from the crime scene.

So, think laterally.

What does that mean?

I don't know. You're the one
that's always telling me to do it.

What do you mean?

It's a fairly straightforward
question, Jimmy.

What was your relationship
with Sir Malcolm Frazer?

You get out the wrong side
of bed this morning?

You called Sir Malcolm Frazer a
devious so-and-so. What did you mean?

Do you have some history
with the man?

I signed the Act as well, you know.
Oh, for crying out loud.

Is there anybody in this village
who didn't sign? Sorry, mate.

OK, OK.

I'll see your Official Secrets

and raise you one quite extensive
criminal record.

How many convictions DO you have
for breaking and entering, Jimmy?

Oh, I was a kid, for Christ's sakes.

It won't look good at the golf club.
You're blackmailing me?

I am talking to the citizen
in the way that citizen understands.

(SIGHS) I was Frazer's chauffeur
for a few years,

mainly while he was in Berlin.

And why was he devious?

Well, because they are, aren't they,
people like him.

, Jimmy. How did you come by the
money to start your car business?

Won it on the horses.

If you're going to lie to me, try
and be convincing. Show some respect.

It were predicted, Mr Barnaby.

Really? By whom?

My Granda'. He said beast'll
come back when things go wrong.

And where did your grandad
get that information from, Seth?

The Chronicles.
I'm sorry, the what?

The Midsomer Chronicles of...
summat.

When badness come,

so will the beast.

It's writ.
Is it?

Oh, yeah.

Well, we'd better find your beast,
hadn't we, Sir?

Now...you work up at Allenby House,
don't you?

Helps out a bit. Yes, and your sheep
graze on Allenby land, don't they?

So maybe...one of their CCTV cameras
caught your beast in passing.

Dunno. Well, you could find out,
couldn't you?

You could pop into the security
control room and check the
recordings for the last few nights.

Or better still,
bring those recordings to me
and I'll check them for you.

Barnaby.

What are you doing, Barnaby?

Sir?
The road block outside Allenby.

Well, I believe I have
the authority.

Well, I'm overruling that authority.

Get your tanks
off the company's lawn.

Clear?

Sir...

..may I see you this afternoon?

What do you think you're doing?

My chores, Sir.

Get out and stay out. Permanently.
You're fired.

Ooh, I don't think so, Sir.
Really? Why not?

Cos I know all the answers, Sir.

I even know some of the questions.

Sir.

Come in.

Thank you for...seeing me
so promptly.

Oh, nobody told me
lunch was being served.

Because staff usually eat
in the kitchen.

Oh, I see, that's your idea
of cooperation, is it?

Your mess. You clear it up.

It's not our fault your prize
chicken got strangled.

I'm gonna get this place
closed down.

And you lot with it.

Hmm. I suppose we will have to sort
the little runt out after all.

I'll drink to that.

You'd drink to anything.

Where's she going?
Your wife, dear boy.

Should have asked her that
years ago.

Seth told me this was the only one
he could get.

Check this bit.

Sir?
I'm sorry. What?

That's Jenny Frazer
the night before the m*rder.

Can't see who she's with, though.

No sound.

It's part of the investigation.

I think it might be Geoffrey Larkin.

Otherwise why bother to sneak out to
the barn in the middle of the night?

How long had she known him?

A few hours.

I think it was someone she knew
quite well.

Why?

Because...most women
do not do THAT ...

..on a first date.

Come here!
Excuse me, Harry.

What do you think you're doing?

Relaying your father's latest
funeral plans to the hearse driver.

And have you given him one?

He's male and can stand upright.
That's enough for you, isn't it?
You're drunk.

And you're the village bike.

Why?

Why everyone else but me?

Why do you think,
you pathetic little man?

Oh, nice (!)

Very nice!
Go home.

Go to bed. Sleep it off.

Go on.

Is everything all right?

Couldn't be better.

So, how many idiots does it take
to change a light bulb?

Hello, little oik.
How's your career going?

Oh, I forgot.
You haven't got one any more.

What?

OK.

Whatever you say.

I'll be there.

I just need a little sleepy first.

TV ANNOUNCER: Our reporter spoke
to a local expert at the scene.

It were writ, weren't it,
in the Midsomer Chronicles.

Deacon Henry of Causton writ

that when the badness shall come...

So do you think Seth's nonsense has
anything to do with your case?

Hello?

Anyone in?
Oh, I'm sorry.

Erm...my case.
It's not my case any more.

I resigned this afternoon.

For God's sake....why?

Well...

..seemed time.

Now we can do all those things
we said we'd do when I retired.

Like what?

Erm...oh, you know...

..er...

..retirement things.

Cruises.

Whatever.

Oh, God!

I don't suppose he'll want that.

He always wakes up hungry.

Ah, well.

You be nice to him, eh?

He's not in his room.

Nicky?

Nothing?
Not a sign, Ma'am.

Nicky?

Nicky?

You've not found him?
No.

Peter...

Nicky?

Nicks?
Mr Frazer?

Oh...

Oh, no!

Oh, Nicky.

Well, you'd better get it.

It's not my concern any more.

Oh, for God's sake.

Don't... All right, all right.

Yes, yes, yes.

We need your help.
Police station.

Working hours.
Detective Sergeant Jones.

You need to come now.

No I do not.
There's been another death.

Right. I'll, er...

..I'll just do the...

..the prelims, yeah...and, er...

..I'll hand over the...the case
proper to...to Jones in the morning.

Of course.

Barnaby.

Oh, hello, Sir.

Yes, yes, I had heard.

Oh, I see.

And that would be, would it,
with full control

and no further interference
from any other agencies?

No, no, Sir, that's....that's fine.

Thank you, Sir...and goodbye.

See you later.

Thank God for small murders.

Where have you been?

It's am, Sir. I was sleeping.

God, what happened?

Exactly the same as before. Multiple
lacerations by something unknown.

Unknown to you.

Yes, Tom, and I'm no slouch,
thank you.

So maybe we should look at the feasibility -
No, no, George. Waste of time.

We do not believe
in mythical beasts, do we?

This is a simple m*rder togged up
to look like something tabloid.

There is a rational explanation
for this and I need to know it.

Come on, Jones, chop, chop.

Right.

As I was saying,
before I was interrupted.

There's a straightforward procedure
for a formal...

He was...pretty useless...

..but he was my dear, dear boy.

His mother d*ed, you see.

Now Nicky's gone.

Who'll take over Allenby now?

Family, land, continuity.

They give one a place, you know.

Without them, we're all a bit lost.

I am sorry, Sir, very sorry.

Do please ask your questions.

Sir Malcolm...

..what did you have against
Geoffrey Larkin?

He was a traitor.

Was he?
Oh, yes.

Spent years with us.

All the while, quietly schmoozing
our network of contacts,

so that when he left the service,
he could pal up with them

as a ludicrously overpaid
'defence consultant.' Yes.

Or, as we used to say, arms dealer.

No gentleman.
No, right.

And no private income.

I'm sorry?

Oh, just raking the gravel, Sir.

Setting the lines straight.

Tell me about Berlin.
Oh.

You've been talking
to that Jimmy Wells, haven't you?

Yes, well, it wasn't our fault.

What wasn't your fault?

And it has nothing to do
with this inquiry.

Can I decide that?
No.

No?

No, nothing relevant there.

Take my word for it.

There's nothing relevant
any more.

So, er...if you don't mind.

Certainly, Sir.

It's not there. I've checked.

It?

The...hound, or whatever it was
that k*lled Nicks.

We don't believe it was an animal,
Mrs Frazer.

Nor do I. Silly notion.

Er...it appears three DVDs are
missing from the last few days.

Nicky handled all of that.
I expect they're around somewhere.

So who would want him dead?

He was very good at making enemies.

Especially when he was drunk.

The night Geoffrey Larkin
was k*lled.

In the hay loft...

..to who...to whom...

..were you making love?

We've got THAT DVD.

You tell me.

It was dark. We couldn't see
the other...participant.

It was Nicky, of course.

It was...one of the games
we used to play.

Secret assignations,
naughty fantasies...

..never...really letting anyone know
what was going on.

Berlin.

I didn't know anything.

But you were there.

We were just young operatives,
Mr Barnaby.

Did as we were told.
Never saw the whole picture.

I find that hard to believe.

Sorry.

If I could have your full attention,
please, Sir.

Sergeant Jones, I called Barnaby in
to aid me on...certain matters.

It is with him, and him alone,

I will be communicating.

Excuse me.

Well, I'm afraid that's slightly at
odds with what DCI Barnaby told me.

He asked me to talk to you
as you were...

..'small fry...'

What? '..an MI office boy
of no particular importance.'

Did he get that wrong?

Jarvis says he was asleep by .
Didn't wake up until Jenny
discovered the body.

Jumpy as a cat, mind. That's cos
he might lose his job over this.

Oh, that would be a shame (!)

Sir Malcolm and Mrs Frazer?

Even when vulnerable, years
of training have made obfuscation
second nature to them.

So you didn't get much?
Nope. Have to squeeze the fruit
further up the food chain.

What shall I do?

What did you make of that?

Nothing.

Thieves that don't thieve?
Vandals have a change of heart?

No-one breaks in for no reason.

It brings on a policeman's reflux.

He's like that. Instinctive.
Irritating.

He has decided that
someone broke in for a reason,
so I have to find the reason.

So you didn't just come back
to see me?

No.
Not at all?

Would you concentrate, please?

Come on. There's a stack of stuff back here
that's never been catalogued.

This one had been broken open.
What's in there?

Animal skulls, bones
and general bits.

But mainly skulls.

Hyena, I think.

So what's missing?

I'm not sure, but there's
an empty specimen bag here.

Hey, no, no, no, don't touch.

I didn't report it cos I thought
who'd want an old skull?

Sheep sh*t.

Seth?

Seth?

Berlin, in the early s, Brenda.

What went down?

Nothing to do with you.

My chief tells me
that I have full powers.

And my chief, me, says you don't.

I could have you arrested.

No, you couldn't.

I could have arrested your daughter.

Below the belt, Barnaby.

Well, I hauled Charlotte
out of that squat,

I thumped
her cr*ck-head boyfriend,

and I sent her home to you because
I thought you were a decent person

trying to do your best
for your country.

And I still am.

No, you're not, Brenda.
You're just like the Frazers.

Still locked in that cold w*r
hocus pocus.

It meant little then,
it means absolutely nothing now.

Apart from the fact you are impeding
a m*rder investigation.

I will not allow that to happen.

So please answer my question or I'll
personally take you to a small cell
and b*at the truth out of you.

When the wall was still up...

..we had a little team of
specialists working under Malcolm.

His son Nicky, wife Jenny...and
Jimmy Wells.

We got a lot of people out.

Until there was a leak.

A betrayal.

And the whole thing unravelled.

And Anglo-Russian relations
took a quite spectacular dive.

Did you find out
who the traitor was? No.

So it all left a nasty taste in the corporate
mouth and a few careers stalled.

Including Malcolm's.

You should have stuck with us, Tom.

Your life could have been
equally fruitless.

Oh, come on!

Think, think, think, think, think.

Ah.

Nice one, Seth.

It's been washed but we should be
able to find traces of blood in the crevices.

Yes, definitely the m*rder w*apon.

And what kind of creature
has a skull like that?

It's from the felidae,
or cat family.

Cat? p*ssy cat?

Sabre-toothed cat
of Northern Chad.

They were about the size of a lion
and had huge projecting fangs.

They still around? They say one
was sh*t on the Ivory Coast in .

It was officially identified
as a mutant jaguar.

And that is what this is?

No.

Actually, I think this is a
prehistoric smilodon fatalis.

They found a lot of them in
the La Brea tarpits in Los Angeles.
There's one in most museums.

But it has nothing to do
with any animal

that was ever seen in Midsomer?

Not this side of the last ice age.

All right.

He's not in his shack by the pub.

Hasn't been seen since yesterday -
Sir...

Seth! Seth!

Can we have a word, please?

He's doing a runner.
On a tractor.

On a tractor. Get after him.
Right.

Seth, what are you doing?

Seth, why don't you just stop?

Seth.

Oof!

Well done, Jones!

You're under arrest.

That were amazing.

Good.

The things you do...
Yeah, yeah.

How did you learn them things?
I took classes.

Payment, please.

Ooh.

You're very sweet.

No!

My car! Oh! Oh, my car!

My car!

Yes, a very sort of town/country
metaphor, that, isn't it?

Inspector, aren't you gonna
do anything?

Inspector? Inspector!

Oh, no!

What was the m*rder w*apon
doing in your shearing shed?

w*apon?
The skull with the fangs.

Did you k*ll those people?
No!

They were k*lled with your skull.
Not mine.

Of the beast. Skull of the beast.
That's crap, Seth.

You stole the skull from the museum
then started this beast rumour
to cover your tracks.

Come on, Seth, spit it out.
Get it off your chest. Jones...

Seth!
Jones.

Seth...

..Seth...

Can't be much fun, can it?

Living in a shack
at the back of the pub.

And there's not much money in lamb
these days, is there? No.

So a chap might need
a bit of an earner.

So how much do you get paid

for being the one and only expert
on the beast of Midsomer?

They done it. Loch Ness.

Monster this, monster that.

Money in the till.
And there ain't no monster.

And there isn't a beast.

But isn't it going a bit far,
k*lling people to make your story
sound credible?

That weren't me.

Honest. Someone stole that skull.
Done them things, put it back,
make it look as if it were me.

I wouldn't k*ll anyone!
Listen... Jones.

Come here.

Cinch. Seth hasn't got the mental faculties
to organise a complex m*rder plot.

Smart enough to manipulate the
media. Any fool can do that.

But, Sir... And Jones, I've
checked the pub CCTV camera.

Seth was either helping
behind the bar or in his shack
at the time of both murders.

Thanks for keeping me in the loop(!)
SETH: I got more of them...
film things for you.

It's very difficult to lip-read
at that distance.

Just do the best you can, Alice.

Berlin Wall...

..East German something...

..wolf...Wolfman.

British Embassy...

..would it...something...

And the other one says, I don't,
something, something traitors.

Is that a coffin?

Never liked the idea
of being a corpse.

No.

That's my wife there. Gwenny.

She's with our Nicky now.

I'm sure she is.

Grim stuff.

So what did you want?

Why did you call Geoffrey Larkin
a traitor?

Told you. Cos he was a bent little
sharpie. But that's not a traitor.

He lined his pockets
with blood money.

That's a betrayal of mankind.

And Wolfman?

That was the name of the file
we kept on him.

Yes, appropriate, too.

Now, are you telling me
the truth, here, Sir Malcolm?

What is truth, Barnaby?

It's like love.

One man's truth...

..is another man's...

..something or other.

Sir M making any sense?
No. And lying through his teeth.

It's physiological when some people
lie. They tighten their nostrils
or narrow their pupils.

Sir Malcolm was doing both. But
he's so close to going over the edge,
I didn't want to push it.

They're all stalling.
Yeah.

So let us insert some ninja
into the appropriate orifices,

and see if we can make the horses
dance.

What?

I can't talk to you about all that
back stuff. They'd string me up.

What if I told you 'the boss'
said it was OK.

You don't even know
who the boss is.

You through, Jones?
Yes, Sir.

Good God.
Correct, Jimmy.

Sit down.

You look as shifty as ever.

Yes, Mrs Packard.

Now, cooperate fully -
repeat, fully - with Mr Barnaby,

or I'll have you in Belmarsh
before you can say code six.

Goodbye, Jimmy.

Respect.
Right. Berlin.

You were...part of a team that
got people across the wall, right?

Yeah. They...

..got me in because
I was a mechanic's whizz.

Got a whole family out
on a home-made balloon.
Another bloke on a flying fox.

But...tunnels was the best.

How long did this go on for?

Oh...couple of years.

Then one day it all went arse up.

Go on.

It was a good tunnel.
(Schnell. Machst du schnell.)

We'd got half a dozen people
down that one.

(Schnell, schnell.)
It was a kid that day.

But they were onto us.

Someone must have blabbed.

And what did they do to you?

Water boarding.

Water boarding?

(Genug Gehabt?)

Those blokes were years ahead
of the Yanks.

I told them everything
they wanted to know, so...

..the whole op was blown.

Then what happened to you?

Three years in a Dresden slammer...

..before our people done a deal.

And did you go on
working for 'the company?'

Surprisingly not,
Mr Barnaby.

No, they gave me enough money
to start up the biz here,

and told me to keep schtum,
or they'd nail my knackers
to the church tower.

Did you ever find out who it was
that betrayed you all?

No.

I still await that pleasure.

Do we buy all that?

Some. Maybe we should rely
on ACTUAL evidence.

What do you have in mind?

Well, Gail and I have been looking
at the CCTV stuff. Ooh, she's keen.

So am I.

Saintly?

Or...standing to attention?

What? (MUFFLED) Who did that?

Who's there?!

What are you doing?!

What's going on?!

See, Sir,
Larkin's first night there,

Jenny Frazer comes down the stairs
in her dressing gown,

then there's a gap, see?

Then she goes out the front door.

So why isn't the main part
of the hallway covered as well?

Then there's Nicky.

Now where is he?

Yeah, where?
We don't know.

There's no coverage on that side
of the building, either.

So anyone can go in and out
without being observed.
If they knew what the coverage was.

I was gonna say that actual thing.

But you were taking too long,
Detective Jones.

Well done, Detective Stephens.

Thank you, Sir.

Reg, Sir Malcolm about?

Haven't seen him, Sir.
Mrs Frazer?

Gone shopping.
What about Jarvis?

Around somewhere, I guess.
Oh, yeah.

No-one up there, Sir.
And he's not in there.

Oh, no, no. Wait a sec.

Not here.
Nor is his box.

(BANGING)
What are you doing?!

He-e-e-e-e-e-elp!

Still warm.

He must be here somewhere.

I'm sorry, what?

Jarvis.
What about Jarvis?

He's the obvious suspect.

Why do you say that?

Because he's the only one left?

Oh, that'll sound good in court (!)

What are you doing?

Where have you been, Sir?
Fixing the wing of my car.

Have you seen Sir Malcolm?
He was working on his coffin
about half-an-hour ago.

Sir Malcolm isn't here,
the coffin isn't here,
but the Range Rover IS here.

So how did he move the coffin
from the premises?

So...should...shall I...?

The question is not how but whom.
I've got it.

The cricket club.

Practise session.

I was sitting here.
Jimmy had hit me with a bouncer.

Yeah, go on.

Jenny Frazer made a circle
on a car window with her finger.

Then she made a mark in the circle.

Clock code.
Whereabouts in the circle?

Centre top.
Centre top.

Midday or midnight.

Whose car was it, do you know?

It had trade plates on it.

I don't know what you're on about.
Yes, you do, Jimmy.

You were or are having an affair
with Jenny Frazer.

Nope. It's not a crime, Jimmy,
you don't have to lie.

We're not here to nick you
for anything.

Overcome your natural instincts
and tell us the truth.

I deny everything.

Jenny left a message on one
of your cars at the cricket club.
Meet her at midnight.

We have a video. The pair of you
going at it hammer and tongs.
You got visuals?

Yes.
Why didn't you say?

Where is she?

I don't know.

Jimmy, have you lent her a vehicle
lately?

Something big enough
to hold a long box?

SIR MALCOLM: (MUFFLED) Hello?

Hello?

She can't help it, you know.
She was trained for it.

Trained for what?
Work it out, son.

Ah. The hearse is gone.

Harry! You grubby little beggar!

What? So you think you're a man,
do ya?

You grubby little sod!
I think we'd better move on.

Causton Crematorium,
everyone available.

SIR MALCOLM: (MUFFLED) Help!

As we commit Malcolm Frazer
to the flames,

let us remember
what he meant to all of us.

An evil, manipulative, uncaring man,

who is finally getting
what he so richly deserves.

Help!

Round the back!

Ooh!

Jones!

Jones!

Jones!

The bolts! Undo the bolts!

♪ Bread of heaven, bread of heaven,

♪ Feed me now and evermore,
evermo-o-o-o-o-ore

♪ Feed me now and evermore,
evermo-o-o-o-o-ore

♪ Feed me till I want no more ♪

♪ Feed me till I want no more ♪

It's all right, darling.

It's all right.

She didn't mean nothing.

She's just a bit upset after Nicky.

She's m*rder*d two people and she's
just attempted to k*ll a third.

Nah, you've got it wrong.
Jenny?

Jenny?

Berlin.

All those years ago?

You and Jimmy were running the escape
routes from East Berlin, weren't you?

And the shared risk, shared
excitement threw you together.

Whilst Nicky was organising
the West Berlin end of things.

But...

..someone betrayed you that day.

Did you ever suspect
that it was Nicky?
(Jetzt.)

(Ech Verstanden. Achtung! Los!)
(Jawohl!)

No.

We were a close team.

He was really sympathetic.

Especially when he told me that
Jimmy had d*ed in the East.

Who told you?

Malcolm and Nicky.

And you believed them?

Why would they lie?

And you married Nicky.

A year later.

I wasn't in love with him.

But Nicky and Malcolm
were like my...my family by then.

Nicky wasn't up to much in bed.

Not much fun for a young woman,
so...

..I diversified.

Not many secrets
in the Brit community there...

..so word of my behaviour
soon...got around.

Malcolm called me in.

Said he understood my feelings...

..and Nicky's failings.

But instead of upsetting
the apple cart by leaving...

..why didn't I use
my obvious skills and inclinations
to serve my country?

Mrs Honey Trap.

Whoring for England.

Making a virtue out of my hobby.

Felt about as cheap
as a bag of flour.

We came back to Allenby,

and I settled for a life of...

..frustration...

..compromise...

..depression.

But then Jimmy came back
from the dead.

Horrible home life but...

..a lover to keep me happy.

Until Geoffrey Larkin turned up.

It was you who supervised
and controlled the security systems
at Allenby, wasn't it?

Malcolm and Nicky were useless at
anything practical or mechanical,
so they were my toys.

(I recently came across one old file
marked...Wolfman.

Hello? You've gone all pale.

Blood pressure
having a bit of a plummet?

Would you like that file,
Sir Malcolm?)

BARNABY: But it was you
who really wanted that file.

Then finally...

..finally...you got to know
the real Berlin story.

(Jimmy.)

Malcolm...

..and Nicky...

..they were the real traitors.

They had a deal going
with a Stasi officer.

They'd get people over the wall
for massive backhanders.

Some of them were legit good guys,
but most of them were crooks.

Black marketeers, Soviet thugs,
anybody with money could
buy a ticket on the MI express.

No wonder they set you up.

But why didn't you tell me
about the bleedin' file, Jen?

Because, Jimmy...

..if she could get rid of Nicky
and Malcolm Frazer,

then guess who would inherit Allenby?

Jen?

You two could have lived
happily together couldn't you?

But not with Geoffrey Larkin about,
because he knew what was in
the Wolfman file,

and he'd be pointing the finger.

So he had to go.

And then you thought you'd piggyback

on Seth Comfort's
ridiculous beast scam.

Borrowed the skull, did you?

And overcame a big guy like Larkin?

Easy. He was a man.

(Someone there?)

(I thought you might fancy
a nightcap.)

(I thought I'd read you right.)

(Almost.)

So you disguised the wound
by tearing it with the skull.

Yes.
Nice.

BARNABY: And Nicky
was even easier, wasn't he?

Cos Nicky, as usual, was drunk.

(What?)

Never knew what hit him.

Oh, dear God.

Jimmy, they deserved it.

No, no, Jenny.

I don't think so.

Shall we go?

Very professional.

Ah, there's a compliment.
Thank you, Sir.

You're not leaving us, are you?
Obviously.

New posting?

Yes, global warming has opened up
the Arctic. North West Passage.

I'll be monitoring
the, er...shipping traffic.

Ooh. Very important.
Yes, it is important. Yes, it is.

Congratulations.
Thank you.

Ah...

I wish you a good day.

Are you smiling, Sir?

No, certainly not. I'm not the petty,
spiteful, vindictive sort. (LAUGHS

Yes, innings.

And again.

Brenda.

They're having this re-match...

..as a decider...

..But we can leave
before the punch-up.

How's HE coming along?

Remarkably well...

..for one who's lived through
his own cremation.

He deserves to be roasted alive...

..and when he returns
from the twilight zone...

..I'll have him locked up.

Better to remain insane.

Probably.

Well, I'll tell him.
Keep on gibbering.

You always were a bit of a bolshie.

Your chappie's been clobbered.
Yes.

What a shame.