12x06 - The Creeper

[bunniefuu]

Go on.

Out you go!

(BEEPS)

Did you put the alarm on?
Of course I did.

Did you check the back door?

Yes.

Darling...

while you're up, I think I left
my water on the dressing table.

Thank you, darling.

Don't I get a goodnight kiss?

Mm...come back to bed!

What are you talking about?

I am in bed!

(SCREAMS)

Go on, go on!

(CAR ALARM)

Go on!

Er, next, Freddy's birthday.

We'll have drinks in the Yellow Room
before dinner.

Tell Missus Cox beef, our beef,
as bloody as she likes.

What about Tallis?
You know she doesn't eat meat.

Well, she can eat vegetables then,
can't she?

I want Freddy on my right,
Isobel on my left,

the girls as far away from me
as possible...

and the rest, I leave up to you.

Race you to the Dower House!
Don't you dare.

Wuss! If she wants to break her leg
that's her business.

Go away, Rupert.

I'm not in the mood for you today.

I'll give you a back massage.
No.

Get off my bed, you're a servant.

It's not appropriate.

I love you too (!)
Be gone!

Happy birthday, Freddy!

Happy birthday, Freddy!

Hop in, meeting at : .

See you at dinner, Isobel.
Jack?

Can I ask a favour?

Anything for you. David Roper
is staying for a couple of days.

Can we bring him this evening?
Oh, God...

Well, he is Freddy's godfather.

And you know what
happened last year.

Yes, and David was mortified.
He hasn't had a drink since.

I'll believe that when I see it.

Go on, then. Bring him if you must.

Oh, thanks, Jack. Really.

Tallis! Get that animal
out of the way!

Bye, Daddy.

Morning.

I'll never get used to that man
careering up and down our drive.

Well, it's his drive now, Mummy.

Have some breakfast.

You're the twelfth baronet, Will,

and the first not to live
at Chettham Park House.

'Adapt and survive',
that's the name of the game.

Say what you like, that man
turned us out of our home.

Saved our bacon, more like. Jack's
been a very good friend to us.

I'm sorry, darling. I had
such a beastly night...

Every joint in my body was on fire.

Get me my pills, will you?

David Roper's coming to stay.
That should cheer you up.

How lovely!

David will buck things up
around here.

Mm.

Not too much, I hope.

It wouldn't keep a child out,
nevermind The Creeper.

Joyce, I have told you, The Creeper

goes for big houses in the country,
stuffed with jewellery and antiques.

Not semi's in Causton with
a couple of tacky prints.

He creeps into people's bedrooms,
Tom. When they're asleep.

(DOOR BELL)

See? It's perfect...

Hi.
Morning.

It's absolutely fine...oh...

Address your remarks
to that young man.

He's supposed to be investigating
The Creeper.

Missus Barnaby would like to know
why you haven't caught him yet?

Well, she's not the only one.

What's happened?
The Chief Constable's been done.

By The Creeper?
Looks like it.

I've just come from his house,
it's like Fort Knox.

Oh, dear.
Tom! It's not funny.

No, it's not. He's got forensics
all over the place like a rash.

Everyone's sworn to secrecy,
of course.

You can imagine how paranoid
he is about security.

Yes, I can.
You're gonna love the next bit.

There's more?

The Chief Constable wants to see you
first thing tomorrow morning. Me?

Apparently the case requires
'the delicate touch

of an experienced senior officer.'

Now, that is funny.

ISOBEL: David, you look marvellous!

Doesn't he look marvellous!
Positively glowing!

Well, my body is a temple
these days.

Somewhat battered...

(YELLS IN EXCITEMENT)
Freddy!

Happy birthday!

How's capitalism?
Jack made you rich yet?

Well, you know...
Yeah...Oh!

Oh, the Lady Elizabeth!

Thank God you're here, David.

Now we'll have some fun. I'm as
dull as ditchwater these days.

I doubt that very much! Talking of
which, isn't it time we had a drink?

I'm gasping.

Mineral water, you idiots.

Come on!

Here you are, you lucky people.

Advance copies, personally inscribed
by the real author, ie, me.

So this is THE Harry Godbolt book
then, is it?

I've ghosted pop stars, footballers,

but gangsters are the vainest
of the lot, believe me.

Bit of a coup getting this,
wasn't it?

Godbolt remembered me
from the old days.

'The old days'? Used to gatecrash
all our parties at the gallery.

Ghastly man.

Oh, it was chic then!
To have a tame gangster in tow.

Oh, there's a great photo!

(HUMS)

Here. Taken at the
opening night party.

(LAUGHTER)

PHOTOGRAPHER: Thank you.

OK, one more. This way, this way,
darling. One more photo.

Lovely...

Isn't that like the one
in your bedroom?

Yes. Minus Godbolt, thank God.

(LAUGHS)
Probably rushed off to rob a bank.

Of course...the book
is complete tosh.

(CLEARS THROAT) He d*ed
in the prison hospital...

before we got onto his first m*rder,
so I had to make the rest up.

Isn't it about time you wrote
a proper book, David?

Yes, and that's exactly
what I plan to do.

And...I've had an idea.

Clever you.

How marvellous it must be
to have an idea.

I am going to write a book about us.

About us?
Us.

I mean, look what happened
to our old g*ng.

Cabinet ministers,
artists, film stars...

masters of the universe!

Look at Jack Filby.

It didn't quite happen
for all of us, David.

Aw, you were a trailblazer, Will.

The gallery, the magazine,
the record label.

Which all went bust.

David's right, Dad.
You had the ideas,

you just didn't have the luck.
Exactly, Freddy.

Anyway, that's my idea.

An in-depth portrait of a generation
that changed the way we live.

And I am going to pitch it
at Jack tonight.

He's bought up all these publishers,
hasn't he?

Jack may not be too keen on
having the past raked up.

He's a public figure now, David.

Oh, don't worry.
I won't tread on any toes.

And anyway, Jack's always been
a bit of a maverick at heart.

I've got a good feeling about this.

This is the one that's going
to turn things around for me.

Well...let's hope so, David.

TALLIS: No, don't be greedy.

DOCTOR GORING: Got a brace of
partridge

in Curate's Wood this morning,
Jack. m*rder*r.

What was that, dear?

Nothing.

Laid my hands on a Picasso etching
you may be interested in, Will.

From the Vollard suite.
Ah, sorry, Hugo.

Totally broke, 'comme toujours.'

Erm...

How lovely it is to be here,
surrounded by one's oldest

and most trusted friends.

Freddy's birthday has become...

..a bit of a ritual, a chance
for us all to get together,

but there is a special reason
to celebrate tonight.

As you know, Freddy has been working
for me for three years now

and...he's a credit
to William and Isobel.

No, no, I have to say this...

You two did a fantastic job
in bringing that young man up.

(CLEARS THROAT)
Hear, hear! Hear, hear!

Happy birthday, Freddy.

ALL: Happy birthday, Freddy!

And so...from Monday I am
giving him a seat on the board.

(APPLAUSE)

ALL: # For he's a jolly good fellow

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow

♪ For he's a jolly good fel-low

♪ And...and so say all of us! ♪

(APPLAUSE)

Martha. Martha...

You're drunk, get out.

With pleasure.
And put some clothes on.

(GLASS TINGS)

Er, I just wanted to thank
everyone for coming

and to thank Jack
for this lovely party

and the terrific opportunity
that he's given me.

I think that everyone
here has experienced

his incredible kindness
at one time or another.

I certainly have and
so have Mum and Dad.

So once again, thank you, Jack.

ALL: Thank you, Jack!

That's quite enough of
the mutual back-slapping.

I'm just going to say goodnight
to the horses, Daddy.

Um...coffee in the billiard room.

Cigars in the smoking room.

Come on, come on... That girl's off
her rocker if you ask me.

So's the other one.
Not surprising in the 'circs'.

Keep it down, Hugo.

Hello, Sid...

HUGO: You can break, Freddy.
OK.

Watch out.

WILLIAM: Good sh*t.
Think I've set you up, Hugo.

Thank you.

Can I have a word, Jack?

If you must.

I don't drink.
Shame.

years old, this one.

You were rather fond of brandy,
weren't you?

(LAUGHS)
Not anymore.

Absolutely not!

I invite you here, despite
what happened last year -

Listen, Jack -
Shut up! Rupert, that'll be all!

Of course, I'll be completely
discreet. Don't believe you.

The only reason to
write a book like that

is salacious gossip and innuendo.

No! No, Jack, this is the
portrait of a generation!

Oh, nonsense!
You are a muck-raking hack, David.

I want nothing to do with it,
end of discussion.

It's a great idea, Jack!
It is pure - (INDISTINCT)

JACK: It is a terrible idea
and it is not going to happen!

Now, leave!

All right. I will take it
somewhere else, then.

(LAUGHS) Even better. I won't have
to be so discreet then, will I?

Out. Now.

That's all you really wanted,
wasn't it? A drink.

Here, take the bottle!

Ah!

Out.

Hey, look! Look!

Crumbs from the rich man's table!

Well, that's the only reason
we're all here, isn't it? Eh?

Uptight bourgeois parasites!

Snouts in the trough!

Guzzle, guzzle, guzzle!

I despise all of you.

Despise you!

David...
Vive la revolution!

David, please!
Stay where you are.

We have all done quite enough
looking after David.

It's time for it to stop.

♪ The people's flat is deepest red

♪ It shrouded oft
our martyr'd dead

♪ And ere their limbs
were stiff and cold

♪ Their hearts' blood dyed
its every fold

♪ They raise the
scarlet standard high

♪ Beneath its shade
we'll live and die

♪ Though cowards flinch
and traitors sneer

♪ We'll keep the red flag
flying here... ♪

Guzzle, guzzle, guzzle...

Guzzle...guzzle...

(DRUNKEN LAUGHING)

(HOWLS LIKE A WOLF)

BOTH: Oh, David...

What is it?

It's only David.
Oh, no...

Come on, let's get you up.

FREDDY: What happened?

Let's get him up. That's it.
Careful, he's going to hit his head.

DAVID: I know what you did...

What's going on?
What's that frightful racket?

It's only David.
Go back to bed, Elizabeth.

I know what you did...

Ssh, ssh...
What's he on about?

Nothing, he's just drunk.

Go tell your grandmother it's all
right. We'll get him to bed.

Won't be for the first time either.

What...

Public confidence, Barnaby.
We stand or fall by it.

Milk?
Thank you, Missus Lovell.

Yes, sir, I agree.

And if it ever became public
knowledge that The Creeper...

had successfully burgled
the Chief Constable's house -

There's no need to spell it out,
Barnaby.

And I do wish that people would
stop using that ridiculous name.

Perhaps, sir, we could help
public confidence

by calling him something else?

So, jewellery and cash missing?

And a photograph of d*ck
receiving the Onslow medal -

Nevermind the photograph.

And there's...no sign
of forced entry, sir?

None. And the alarm system
was deactivated, God knows how.

I'll show you.

Nobody knows the code except me.

Sir?
Mm?

This...box...

Was it damaged like this
when you last looked at it?

Certainly not. Those are
the Christmas decorations.

Well, looks as if the intruder
was...in here...

when you set your alarm, sir.

He would have seen you...key
in your code.

Which means that the intruder must
have gained access to your house

sometime earlier in the day.

Erm...well, I sometimes
leave the back door open

during the day, erm...for the cat.

He has a phobia, you see.
He won't use the cat flap.

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

Excuse me...

The precise details of this
break-in should remain

strictly 'need-to-know', Barnaby.

Oh, yes. Yes, sir.

There's been a break-in at Chettham
Park. Looks like The Creeper again.

Chettham Park?
Yes, sir.

Only this is slightly different.

Officers attending
discovered a body.

BARNABY: What about the wound
on his forehead?

Happened sometime last night,
apparently.

He'd been drinking heavily,
according to the Chetthams.

Why don't the Chetthams
live up at the big house?

Well, they probably rent it out.

Local gossip has it that
they're somewhat skint.

So this is skint, is it?

JONES: Gentry do things differently,
eh?

Is there anything else missing
apart from Lady Isobel's diamonds?

Some cash.

And Roper had a laptop, sir. It
was here when they put him to bed.

Tom?
Yeah...

Have a look at this. See?

Little red dots?

Petechiae.
Very good, Tom.

Now, this can happen when death's
caused by cardiac arrest, or -

Or asphyxiation. Yeah, but there's
no sign of strangulation.

Listen, George. He comes to...

sees The Creeper in his room...

starts to raise the alarm
and The Creeper shuts him up.

You think he was suffocated?

Lift his head, George.

Mm-hm!

He's smothered by the pillow.

Blood from the head wound...gets on
the pillow

but the m*rder*r replaces
it...the clean side up.

Evidence.

Be interesting to find out
exactly how much alcohol

there is in his bloodstream.

Soon as I can, Tom.
Thank you.

(WHISTLES)

The cut on his head didn't look
at all bad once we cleaned him up.

And...well...not to mince words...

..we'd seen him much worse,
Inspector.

And when he didn't come downstairs
in the morning

we assumed...he was sleeping it off.

Where'd he been? We'd all been
at the house, Inspector.

It was my birthday yesterday
and Jack threw a small party.

Jack?
Jack Filby. He lives at the house.

He owns it. He owns the estate,
he owns this house and he owns us!

Please, Grandma...

Jack's an old friend, Inspector.

Er, my son works for him.

So, you'd all been to a party
at Chettham Park House,

but David Roper came back here
some time after the rest of you?

Actually...he left the party
before us.

I'm afraid he fell off the wagon
last night.

He was probably roaming the park
for a couple of hours.

So, the burglary took place after
you'd put Mister Roper to bed?

Yes.

I was still wearing my jewellery
when he turned up.

My God...

you don't think...he was
m*rder*d...by the burglar?

In the circumstances...

I'm afraid we'll have to treat
his death as...suspicious.

Guess what?
We've been burgled, too!

Dad's incandescent...

What happened?

David's dead, Tallis.

Dead?

But I don't...I don't understand.

I don't understand...
It's OK, Tall...

(MOBILE PHONE RINGS)

I'm sorry.

Hello? Right.

Erm...I saw...

a couple of copies of this book
upstairs.

David's latest. He was a writer.

Er, it's Jack. Mister Filby.

He'd very much like to have a
word with you, up at the house.

You've been summoned, Inspector.

Better jump to it,
like the rest of us.

BARNABY: Very nice of Mister Filby
to give a party for you.

Hm. It's become a, sort of,
tradition over the years.

He was at university with Mum and
Dad, so I've known him all my life.

What about David Roper?
Yes, him too.

Actually, he's my godfather.

Was.

Incredibly nice man.

A little bit difficult at times,
but...

'Difficult'?

Well, when he was,
you know, drinking.

Any particular reason he fell
off the wagon last night?

Not that I know of.

I think he might have had a
slight altercation with Jack.

BARNABY: Any idea what about?

No, none whatsoever.
You'll have to ask Jack.

JACK: Here's a list of the watches,
with the serial numbers.

And a photograph of the etching.

We found a window open on
the top floor at the back.

So much for our state-of-the-art
security system.

Would you mind showing the er,
the sergeant that window?

Sure. This way.

So tell me about David Roper.

Yes, sir. Erm, police officers
investigating the break-in

at the Dower House found
his body in the guest room.

It appears that he d*ed
during the night.

So it finally caught up with him,
eh?

What's the 'it', sir?

Drink, dr*gs. Whatever.

You name it, David snorted it,
drank it, smoked it.

Sorry, Freddy, it's true.

I...I know.

Did you have a disagreement
with Mister Roper last night?

Did I what? I mentioned that
you and David had words.

Well, there was a frank exchange
of opinions, yes.

I've recently moved into publishing

and he came to me with a
hare-brained proposal for a book.

Looking for a hand-out, basically.

What kind of book was that?
Oh, it was about us,

the old movers and shakers, our
generation, some nonsense like that.

You turned him down?
Yes, I did.

So he grabbed a bottle
of my best brandy

and flounced off into the night.

Look...I've been bailing David out
for years now.

Rehab, therapy, endless loans.

Money down the drain.

Last night my patience ran out
and...

Now of course I feel terrible.

Must have got in through that.

No prints anywhere, needless to say.

Hell of a climb, though.

I'll tell you what's interesting.
It's in a blind spot.

Neither of those CCTV cameras
covers it.

So, The Creeper had
done his homework...

Looks like it.

Well, we'll need names and addresses

of everyone who was at the party
last night. OK, Jones?

Yes, sir.

No, I didn't hear them arguing.

I went to say goodnight to the
horses, straight after dinner.

Do you do that every night?
Of course.

No-one else here worth talking to.

Do you hunt?
Me? No.

Or sh**t, or fish?
Or anything like that?

No.

Then I'll show you something.
But you've got to keep it a secret.

Come on, dogs.
(BARKING)

I have to keep the dogs out.
Sid drives them mad.

Stay.

This is Sid.

I rescued him from the hunt.

I thought hunting was illegal.
Yeah, right(!)

Who else knows about Sid?
Only Freddy.

Dad would be really livid.

Does your father hunt?
No, he doesn't have time.

Sucks up to them if they're posh,
though.

Lets them sh**t and fish all over
the estate. Dad loves a bit of posh.

Like the Chetthams?
Oh, he's known them forever.

You and Freddy Chettham...are
you...?

Oh, God, no. We couldn't.

I mean, he's my best friend, we grew
up together. So, no, no way.

Hello, Sid...

Are you hungry? Are you?

MARTHA: What do you want?

What are you doing?
Keep your hands off me...

(LAUGHING)

I'm afraid I'm er, lost.
Me too.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

I'm Detective Sergeant -
I know who you are.

Sit down.

Did you hear your father arguing
with David Roper last night?

I heard Dad shouting at him, yes.

It's no big deal,
Dad shouts at everybody.

Except Golden Boy, of course.

'Golden Boy'? Adorable Freddy(!)
Don't you find him adorable(?)

Everyone does, you know.

What about you.
Oh, I absolutely adore him(!)

But then I would, wouldn't I?

Why? By the way, me and Rupert,
there's nothing going on.

I just...love teasing him.

I'm not, ghastly phrase,
'in a relationship.'

Sorry to hear that.
You should be pleased, surely?

Did you have anything
stolen last night?

Why, sergeant, what can you mean(?)

Is that a double entendre?

The blow to the head could
have stunned him momentarily

but it certainly didn't k*ll him.
There are traces of bark,

but he probably walked into a tree.

And your suffocation theory
is looking a bit shaky, Tom.

Is it? Why?

Cos there's no deviation
to the nose,

there's no bruising or any damage
to the mouth or lips.

And you'd expect to
find either or both

if the victim had been suffocated.

He'd had a lot to drink, George.

A bottle of brandy, at least.
And maybe he was so drunk

he couldn't put up a struggle,
hence no damage to the face.

When do we get the
toxicology report?

Tomorrow, or the day after.
Whenever.

Anyway, I'm going to open him up,
have a look at his ticker.

Stay and watch the fun.
No, thank you.

I see absolutely no reason why
our privacy should be invaded.

It really is none of
the police's business.

Or anyone else's.

It's a private arrangement
between friends.

I don't know...it just seems wrong!

What with the police treating
David's death as suspicious -

They're just being super cautious
because of the damned burglary.

And it has absolutely nothing
to do with the family.

Imagine the publicity.

OK, but I'd really rather
not lie about it.

Darling...no-one
is suggesting you lie.

Discretion, Freddy. Not lying.

OK.

Discretion it is.

Good boy.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

No more patients this evening,
doctor.

Thank you, Missus Painter.
See you tomorrow.

Goodnight.
Night.

(PHONE RINGS)

SYLVIA: Dr Goring.

Oh, hello.

All right, but you'd better come up
with a jolly good suggestion!

You don't seem to understand. If it
ever came out I could be struck off.

No. Absolutely not.

I simply cannot go on like this!

I reckon Roper came this way.
There's cigar ash here and there,

plus the odd footprint.

He zig-zagged that-a-way...

there's signs of a struggle.

There's the empty brandy bottle
and a cigar butt here. Phil?

Plus, a dirty great lump of wood.

There.
Blood?

I reckon.
So, Roper didn't walk into the tree.

He got whacked over the head.

There's soft ground here, look.

The drag marks...go all the way down
to the Dower House.

So...Roper staggers about...

swigging his brandy,
gets bashed over the head.

And some good samaritan hauls him
off down to the Dower House.

But who, eh?

Someone who followed him
from the big house?

Maybe Roper bumped into The Creeper.

He's full of brandy,
he's feeling brave, so he has a go.

The Creeper grabs
a handy log...bosh!

I don't think The Creeper is the
boshing type, Jones. (MOBILE RINGS)

Jones.

Oh...

Right. OK.

Yeah, thanks.

There's been another break-in, sir.
Hm?

Dr Sylvia Goring's surgery
in Midsomer Market.

That name rings a bell. She was
one of the guests at the dinner.

Oh, yes, yes.
You want me to check it out?

No, no, I will do that.

You go back over everyone's
movements after the birthday do.

See who could have followed
Roper out of the house.

Oh, and Jones?
Get me a copy of Roper's book.

Golden Geezer or
whatever it's called.

Yes, sir.

SYLVIA: No, I didn't hear a thing.

What's missing, Dr Goring?

Well, some petty cash,
according to Missus Painter.

And my fly rods, would you believe.

Came here looking for dr*gs
no doubt, and...

made off with my fly rods.

Extraordinary!
Do you keep dr*gs on the premises?

Certainly not.

Nothing to interest the
average low-life, anyway.

You have a picture missing there.

Good lord.

Hadn't noticed that.

What was it?

Oh, just a picture of me and a...

jolly nice salmon I caught
in Scotland, I think.

It was in a rather
pretty silver frame.

Must have caught the burglar's eye.

Dr Goring, you were up
at Chettham Park House

were you not, for Freddy Chettham's
birthday party?

Yes, the Chetthams are
dear friends of mine.

As is Jack Filby.

David Roper? Is he a 'dear friend'
of yours?

'An acquaintance', shall we say.

Dr Goring?
What is it?

I think the intruder's been going
through the patient's notes.

What?

There they are.

Why would the cat burglar -
Oh! Sir William Chettham.

Oh, I had those out this morning.
MISSUS PAINTER: But they were -

I needed to refer
to them this morning.

You're not suggesting it was
this Creeper chappy, are you?

Ah, yes...This could be where
your intruder got in.

Oh, but that's never unlocked.

Well, it's unlocked now.

Where's the key to this padlock
usually kept, Missus Painter?

In my desk.

In your desk. And do you
ever leave your desk

when there are patients
in the waiting room?

Well...yes, I...I suppose so.

Are you suggesting a patient
may have taken the keys?

But our patients are so respectable!

They're all private!

Oh good, you found us! Only just.
Talk about off the beaten track!

What do you think?
It's fantastic!

What is it?
It's for Sid.

Here, hold this.

I have to get him outside soon.

I'll leave the door open so he can
go out and forage, or try to.

Trouble is, he should
be with other foxes

otherwise he won't develop
any social skills.

Yeah, I know how he feels.

I spent all week in meetings
about the retail business.

Jack wants to buy
this chain of shops.

(SIGHS)
Tell him, Freddy.

Tell him you want out.
I can't.

He'd be devastated.

And what about Mum and Dad?
What would happen to them?

Look at us. You with your suit,
me with my animals.

Poor old Martha, getting off
with anything that moves.

It's family, Tals.
We're stuck with it.

Maybe David's dying
will change things.

How?
I don't know.

Secrets coming out, clearing
the air. That sort of thing.

There's only one secret,
isn't there?

Even if it came out, would it
make things any better?

Oh, it's just one of those days.

Right, when are you
going to move Sid?

Can I help?
Course you can.

You're absolutely the only
human being I can stand.

You know that, don't you?

What's that you're reading?

'The Golden Geezer.
My Story by Harry Godbolt.'

Actually, it was written
by this fellow, David Roper.

Is he the one that d*ed at Chettham?
The very same.

And now he really is a ghost writer.

Oh, ha ha(!)

Can I read it after you?

You certainly can.
Well, you can read it now.

Celebrity gangsters,
the curse of the age.

Here, I'm not wading
through that stuff.

Hm, he's very good looking.

Who? Godbolt?

Gosh, yes.

Oh, it's so subjective, that stuff.

Did you lock the back door?
Yes...

Not that locking would
make much difference.

I will see to it tomorrow...

Tom...

Tom!
What? What? What?

Do I have to do everything myself?!

Come here, you!

(GROANS IN PAIN)
Joyce?

Joyce!

Joyce...

You all right?
Yeah.

You all right?
Yeah, I'm fine.

He was here, Tom! The Creeper!

He was here in our house!
Nevermind him, what about you?

Oh, my God. My mother's pearls.

At least lie down!

Oh, they're here.

Tom?

What's that?

That's like the photo in the book.

And that - Oh...

No, don't...don't touch it.

Get the tweezers.

Ta.

I think that The Creeper
has made his first mistake.

JONES: These were returned to YOU?

Yes, they were returned anonymously.

Ah.

"Fake"? What's that about, then?

Well, it's obviously a message.

Look, The Creeper must be an
insider, mustn't he?

He doesn't just know peoples'
security setups,

he knows their habits,
their routines.

And their secrets. Secrets?

There's something linking the
Chetthams with Jack Filby.

And it's not just the Old Pals Act.

So The Creeper's what? A tradesman?

A servant?

What about Rupert, Filby's creepy
butler? He's got brown hair.

This looks reddish, though.
Darker at one end.

Dye job, maybe. It's not gonna be
much help

unless we can find a match.
Well, it's worth a try, innit?

Get it down to the lab.
And THEN, Jones,

go to Chettham Park House...

and get confirmation that this
really is Filby's etching.

Right. What about you?

Me, Jones? I am going to ask
Doctor Sylvia Goring

why she told me that this

was the photo of a salmon.

I knew it was yours, Doctor Goring,

because the framer has
very thoughtfully

put your name and address on
the back there. Look.

I had a lot of pictures reframed
recently. I must've lost track.

It's a great party, that. Yes.

Life was fun then.

(LAUGHTER)

Easy when you're young and foolish,
Inspector.

Why on earth would someone write
'fake' on that photo, do you think?

I really haven't the faintest idea.

Doctor Goring...

When did you last speak to
David Roper?

The other day of course,
at Freddy's party.

And before that? He came to see me a
couple of weeks ago.

May I ask what about?

Some book he wanted to write.

I told him I wouldn't have anything
to do with it.

Because?

People grow up.

People change.

Raking up the past serves no purpose
whatsoever.

That's all I have to say.

Yes, that looks like Mister Filby's.

So, the thief returned it, did he?

Bet that doesn't happen very often.

Is it a fake?

I wouldn't be surprised.

Mister Filby bought it off that old
fraud, Hugo Greening.

He was at the birthday do,
wasn't he? Oh, yes.

Oh! Well, he's one of the g*ng.

They turn up when summoned
and sing for their supper.

Greening used to have an art
gallery. Very chic.

But it all went pear-shaped.

Was David Roper one of the 'g*ng'?

He'd fallen out of favour.

He was very persona non grata,
was David.

Ah. Why was that?

Well, how would I know?

I am but a humble lackey.

How discreet.

What a good boy.

It was because of me.

I had a fling with David, you see.

At Freddy's party last year.

It was alcohol-induced

and quite extraordinarily
unpleasant.

Daddy was furious.

Rupert didn't like it either.
Did you, darling?

Roper shouldn't have taken
advantage.

'Taken advantage'?

Oh, how sweet!

(LAUGHS) Is that why you followed
him into the park

and hit him over the head?

Be a man, Rupert.

Confess.

I was just going to rough him up a
bit, that's all.

Urgh...

(GRUNTS)

(LAUGHS)

'He was howling at the moon
like an idiot.' (HOWLS)

'So I whacked him over the head
with a branch.'

Argh!

(FOX BARKS)

'Then I...thought I heard someone.'

'So...I...'

'Ran away.'

My knight in shining armour.

And you didn't see who this someone
was?

No.

Maybe it was this Creeper bloke.

If I'd have known,
I would've gone for him.

Oh, of course you would, darling.

No.

Rupert the butler is definitely not
The Creeper.

He hasn't got the bottle.

So, Martha had a fling with Roper?

Yeah. Filby was very angry about it.

I'm not surprised.

I've had that policeman here again.

He knows I'm not telling him
everything.

He made me feel like a criminal.

Well, what am I to do?

All right.
Curate's Wood at two o'clock.

I could get someone from the
Art Fraud Squad

to take a look at it, if necessary?

I did explain to Jack that the
provenance was a mite dubious.

Does that mean it's dodgy?

I...I explained that the plate
from which the etching was made

may be School of Rembrandt.

It's dodgy.
I do wish you'd stop saying that!

And you explained that, did you,
to Mister Filby?

About the plate?
Perhaps not in those words, no.

Look, the main thing is,
Jack liked it.

And a couple of grand,
quite frankly,

is not of much consequence to him.

Whereas... Whereas to you...

Business has been very slow of late,
Inspector.

Mister Greening, I am not interested
in the provenance of this print.

But I am very interested in finding
out exactly what happened

to David Roper on the night he d*ed.

Surely there's no mystery
about that?

The mystery is how he lived
as long as he did.

The man's liver must've been
cast-iron.

What about the row Roper had
with Mister Filby that night? Mm?

It was er, over...

another book that Roper was planning
to write, wasn't it?

About the good old days.

It may have been. I really wasn't
paying much attention.

David always spread chaos and
confusion wherever he went.

Did Roper talk to you about this?

We had a brief conversation
about it.

I wasn't much help, I'm afraid.

I didn't remember the gangster chap
at all.

Even though he came to all your
parties?

LOTS of people came to our parties.

They were extremely good parties.

Oh, champagne!

Who wants champagne?

(CAMERA SHUTTER)

Sir William Chettham there,
he was er...

your partner in the gallery,
wasn't he?

Of sorts.

Once the parties were over
and the actual work began,

Will lost interest. It took me years
to pay off the debts.

Good old Will, of course,

fell on his feet.

Ask yourself why a man like
Jack Filby never remarried.

Ask yourself how the Chetthams
managed to make ends meet.

So Jack Filby and Isobel Chettham
were an item.

Hence the word 'fake'. Is that the
dark secret, d'you reckon?

I don't know, Jones.
Could be part of it.

'Art Fraud Squad'.

That was good. Yeah, not bad, hey?

(CROWS CAW)

Oh, there you are.

There's loads of rabbits in the
meadow. Take a potshot if you want.

Don't play silly beggars,
it's loaded.

Looks like she put both barrels
to her throat

and used the branch to push
the triggers.

Practically took her head off.

If she came out here to k*ll
herself...

why bother sh**ting a pigeon?

Someone could've grabbed the g*n off
her.

Any signs of a struggle?
Not at first glance, no.

Well, maybe she knew them.

Didn't see them as a thr*at.

Who found her? The gamekeeper.

He heard the g*n, guessed it was
Doctor Goring, came over to chat.

Apparently Jack Filby let her
sh**t here whenever she wanted.

And he saw no-one else? No, sir.

Doctor Goring said 'Raking up the
past serves no purpose whatsoever'.

She knew something, Jones.

It troubled her immensely.

But she wouldn't talk about.

Maybe it's got nothing to do with the
Chetthams. Or Roper, or Jack Filby.

Who knows what was going on
in her mind?

WILLIAM: No, it couldn't have been
an accident.

Sylvia was a fine sh*t,
and she knew how to handle a g*n.

Was the birthday party the last time
any of you saw her?

Yes. BARNABY: And how would you
describe her state of mind?

You're not trying to suggest she
took her own life, are you?

I came as soon as I heard the news.
Are you all right?

Devastated, Jack.
Utterly devastated.

What happened? He thinks that Sylvia
took her own life.

That's not exactly what he said,
Mummy.

This is an ACCIDENT, surely?

The Inspector is determined to see

everything that happens on the
Chettham estate

in the worst possible light.

I wonder why.

No mystery to this one, Tom.

Both barrels of a -bore shotgun
to the throat at very close range.

Now, there was one thing
that gave me pause for thought.

And that was the blood on her hand.

Hers? No.

So she did try and defend herself.
Not so fast, Benjamin.

No, the blood belonged to the
pigeon.

I took the liberty of bagging it.
Its neck had been wrung.

So she sh**t the pigeon
and wings it...

She puts down the g*n to wring its
neck...

The assailant picks up the g*n...
Baboom.

Sounds plausible to me.
By the way, Tom,

I've got the toxicology report
on that Roper chap.

Good, give us the gist.

Well...the alcoholic levels are
pretty consistent

with someone who'd have drunk a
bottle of brandy.

And I don't suppose the morphine
content was much of a surprise,

given his track record.

Morphine? Well, codeine, actually,

but codeine metabolizes
into morphine in the body.

My guess would be erm...
prescription pain k*ller.

How much did he take?
Oh, quite a lot.

About er... milligrams.

Is that enough to k*ll him?

Borderline, but I'd say it could be
enough

to cause respiratory depression.

Or make it very easy to suffocate.

Yes, but is it enough
to make a case, Tom?

Yes, thank you, George.

Jones...

Jones...

There weren't any dr*gs found in
Roper's effects, were there?

No. Oh. No, not so much as an
aspirin.

Check with the Chetthams.

The old grandmother must be on some
sort of medication, for starters.

Won't that be on record at
Doctor Goring's?

She was the family doctor,
wasn't she?

MISSUS PAINTER: 'There they are.'

Oh, Sir William Chettham.

Oh, I had those out this morning.

But they were in the - I needed to
refer to them this morning.

Excuse me.

I'll check the surgery.

You go and have another look in the
guest room at the Dower House.

See if Roper had anything
stashed away. Yes, sir.

(CLATTERING)

(SIGHS AND CLEARS THROAT)

Hi.

(GASPS)

Are you OK?

You're supposed to be lying down,
Elizabeth.

Ah, there we go. Come on.

I heard someone moving around.

I thought it was a burglar again.

Come on. Let's get you back
to your room.

Please, let me help.
No, I can manage.

I'm used to it.

Can I just ask something?

Does anyone in the house take any
sort of prescription painkiller?

You take something for your
arthritis, don't you?

Oh, I take pills a day.
Blood pressure, cholesterol,

God knows what. You'll have to check
with Sylvia Goring.

Oh, dear. Come along. Come on.

I can't believe it.

Poor Doctor Goring.

Missus Painter, d'you feel up to
answering a couple of questions?

Oh, yes. Of course.

She would be appalled to see me
blubbing.

Now, when did you last see
Doctor Goring?

After surgery this morning.
And how did she seem?

A bit on edge, to be honest.

Missus Painter, did you ever meet
David Roper?

He was a friend of hers, I think.

Yes. I didn't care for him at all.

He turned up unannounced
a couple of weeks ago,

but Sylvia sent him packing.

So what time did the surgery close
today?

The last patient left at : .

And then Doctor Goring...went out?

Yes. No! No, not quite.

She did some shredding first.

Shredding? Yes. She bought one of
those machines last week.

Nothing in the guest bedroom, sir.

But the old girl, Elizabeth?
She's on God knows what.

Beta blockers, statins, you name it.

Very off-hand when I mentioned
the painkillers.

Any joy at the surgery?

Depends what you mean, Jones.

Doctor Goring destroyed all the
Chettham family records,

apart from this.

Take a look.

"Victoria and Albert Clinic."

So?

Happily for us,
that clinic still exists.

And they very kindly sent me this.

Wow...

Well, that explains a lot.
Doesn't it just?

Roper must have found out somehow
or other

and threatened to write about it.
Blackmail.

What now?

I think...

..the less time they have to cover
their tracks, the better.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?
'Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby.'

Inspector, good afternoon.

'Sir William...There's something I'd
very much like to talk to you about.

Something of a personal...'

..nature.

Very personal.

He knows.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Hello, Freddy.
We've come to see your father.

I know. He's up at the house.
I'm to take you there.

Everybody's waiting. Everybody?

FILBY: Well, let's get on with it,
then.

What I have to say concerns
Sir William,

and I'd much rather discuss
that with him in private.

Let me put you out of your misery,
Inspector.

In the wake of poor Sylvia Goring's
death,

you've unearthed something
in my medical records.

Something that has piqued your
curiosity.

Grubbing around in other people's
affairs. Despicable.

Quiet, Elizabeth.

Am I on the right track?

Yes, you are.

And that something is the fact that
I am unable to father children, yes?

Yes.

"sh**ting at blanks",
don't they say?

I believe they do, yes.

We found out soon after Isobel
and I were married.

That I would be unable to produce
a son and heir.

It was a terrible blow, Inspector.
Yes, it must have been.

And it begs a very large question.

Yes, indeed.
Who, then, is Freddy's father?

Well, legally, of course, I am.

And biologically?

Yes, I am.

I'm very proud to say.

ISOBEL: It was an arrangement
between friends, Inspector.

A PRIVATE arrangement.

Well, I'm off.
Stay where you are, Tallis.

I thought there was going to be some
amazing revelation.

This is ancient history.

WILLIAM: All the children know,
Inspector. Come on, girls.

They were told as soon as
they were old enough to understand.

You may find this hard to believe,
Barnaby,

but it's a situation that's turned
out very happily for all concerned.

Yes. We're all deliriously happy.
Thank you, Martha, that's enough.

But you weren't very happy when
David Roper found out, were you?

Did he thr*aten to write about it in
his book?

David always knew, Inspector.

He could've written about it
any time in the past years.

Unfortunately he's not around to
confirm that, is he?

Well, ask Hugo Greening.

Er, our dearest and closest friends
have always known.

It's my name on Freddy's
birth certificate.

When I die, he will become
the th baronet.

And by then I'm sure he'll be
well on his way

to re-establishing
the Chettham family fortunes.

I'll do my best, Dad. 'Dad'.

You see, Inspector, that is the
reality of the situation.

ELIZABETH: The
Inspector's looking disappointed.

He was hoping to bring Chettham Park
tumbling down round our ears.

I was hoping to find out the truth.

That is all, Lady Chettham.

THAT is Lady Chettham, Inspector.

The wife of the th baronet.

As the widow of the th baronet,

the proper form in my case is
'My Lady'.

And the correct form in MY case

is 'Detective Chief Inspector',

'My Lady'.

So this boy Freddy can still inherit
the title?

Yep. Yes, he can.
When Sir William Chettham dies...

..it goes to some committee or other
in the Lord Chancellor's office,

and if all the paperwork's in order,

nobody rocks the boat...

Maybe that's what Roper threatened
to do. You said he was broke.

Erm, there's something more to
it than that, Joyce.

When I confronted them,
they were all there,

about Sir William's infertility...

..there was an air of immense relief
in the room.

Hm.

How's 'The Golden Geezer' then, 'ey?

It's rubbish. And the most ludicrous
bit features your Chief Constable.

Lovell? What's he doing in it?

Well, he caught Harry Godbolt.

That's what he got
the Onslow medal for.

Didn't you know?
I must have forgotten.

I wonder...

if he was at that party.

I'm not understanding you here,
Joyce.

Why would Lovell be at the party?

Well, he was at university with the
Chetthams and that lot, wasn't he?

He was? Mm.

You don't know very much about your
beloved leader, do you?

Well, obviously not.

Joyce...

How would you describe...Isobel's
expression in the photo there, hm?

Adoring.

Adoring...

Yes. That would be the word.

The report on Godbolt's arrest
tallies with the book.

I was surprised, actually.
Why were you surprised?

Harry Godbolt's on the run
with an army of minders,

and Chief Constable Lovell wanders
into a West End hotel room,

'on a hunch', and there's the most
feared gangster in the land,

fast asleep and on his tod.

And what is your deduction,
Detective Stephens?

Well, somebody must have tipped
Mister Lovell off.

But who'd tip off a PC who'd only
been in the job six months?

Yeah. Who indeed?

Oh, I almost forgot.

Forensic report for you, sir.
Ah! Did they run a DNA match?

Very droll, sir.

It's the way you tell 'em.

Listen, erm, I've had a thought
about Roper's computer.

Did you. What about it?

The bag and the power lead were
still on the floor

when we were called to
the Dower House.

Yeah, so? The bag's in the evidence
room with the rest of his stuff,

but the mains lead is nowhere
to be found.

You think someone at the Dower House
snaffled it?

Well, The Creeper's never nicked
anything like that before, has he?

If one of the Chetthams did take the
laptop...

It might still be at the
Dower House.

Let's get a search warrant, shake
the tree and see what falls out.

Yes, sir.

Oh, what was that about DNA match?

Oh, yes. The hair.

Anything?

No.

No. Nothing.

Thanks for this.
It's much appreciated.

Tallis likes you.
That's good enough for me.

Despite what happened yesterday?

It had to come out sooner or later.
I'm glad it has.

It must be very...hard for you,
Freddy.

Sometimes I...

Sometimes you what?

Oh, nothing.

Here we are.

OK. Give us a couple of minutes.
(HORSE SNORTS)

Hiya!

Hey.

How's Sid? Lonely.

Hm. And how are you, Tallis?

Me? Worried about Freddy.

So many people to please.

It's bad enough having one dad,
nevermind two.

Yesterday, up at the Hall,

you seemed a little disappointed.

Did I? Yes, you did.

As if you were expecting to hear
something else from me.

Deoxyribonucleic acid.

DNA.

It's wonderful stuff, that.
Is it? Yes, it is.

It's amazing how much information
you can glean

from the tiniest particle.
Like a hair.

It's all you need to single out one
person from millions of others.

Or one animal.

An animal? Like a fox.

Tallis...

The Creeper kindly delivered a
picture to my house.

And there was a tiny hair
caught in the frame.

I think the picture was a message.

What about?

About something that happened
years ago.

Maybe The Creeper was
in someone's house one night

and overheard something.
Like a weird phone conversation.

DOCTOR GORING: You don't understand.
If it came out, I could be struck
off.

FEMALE VOICE: 'For the sake
of the family -' No.
'Sylvia -' Absolutely not.

I simply cannot go on like this.

Oh, I see.

So, you think The Creeper was hoping
that I would discover the truth?

And have you?

I'm not sure.

What are you going to do about
The Creeper? Don't know.

I can't go to the
Crown Prosecution Service

and say that my chief suspect
is a fox, can I?

I suppose not. No.

If I could be sure that The Creeper
was going to stop creeping...

and the stolen property returned
in good order...

to the police...

That would be a start.

I bet The Creeper would be very
interested to hear that.

David was alive...that night.

'After Rupert knocked him out.
I know he was.'

He was alive when I took him back
to the Dower House.

And later too, when he was in bed.

'I checked.'

'He was still breathing.'

I should've tried to do more
for him.

It wasn't your fault, Tallis.

Pleasant walk, sir?

Very pleasant indeed, thank you,
Jones.

Right. Let's go and stir up
the Chetthams.

I'm afraid it's gonna have to wait.

Why?

The Chief Constable wants
to see you.

Oh, he does, does he?

Good.

Good?

Mm-hm.

Barnaby.

I want a progress report on the
er...

The Creeper, Sir.

The housebreaking epidemic which is
making a nonsense of my targets.

Sir, there have been two suspicious
deaths.

I'm aware of that.

And one of 'em...

was David Roper.

The author of this book.

I'm assuming that er,

David Roper consulted you
when he was writing this book,

because after all, it was you

that finally brought Harry Godbolt
to justice, wasn't it?

We may have had a telephone
conversation, yes.

But then you probably already knew
David Roper,

because you were at university
with him, were you not? Was I?

Along with Jack Filby,
the Chetthams,

and...Doctor Sylvia Goring.
Barnaby, what are you driving at?

I'm trying to clarify the situation
before I write my report.

You know how people jump to
conclusions.

Make connections that do not exist.

That crowd were out of my league
at university, Barnaby.

I didn't really know any of them.

Except Isobel.

Extraordinary woman.

Yeah, I admit I was an admirer.

I didn't stand a chance, of course.

But we became friends, of sorts.

And she trusted me.

So.

I'd only been on the b*at for
six months when she got in touch.

She was in a terrible state.

What, because of erm...?

I didn't ask what the circumstances
were, Barnaby.

Godbolt had been on the run
for months.

She told me where I could find him.
Alone and unguarded.

What could I do?

Here was a great opportunity.
To make your name.

To put away a dangerous criminal,
Barnaby.

Oh, yes, sir. Of course. I'm sorry.

I saw no reason why her name
should be mentioned.

And I still don't.

Oh. Barnaby. It's you.

Sir William,
I'm so sorry to bother you again.

Yes, I'm sure you are.

David's laptop? Mm-hm.
I thought the burglar took it.

Well, we're not sure now. We think
Mister Roper might've tucked it away
somewhere for safety.

Here at the Dower House? Yes.

Now, I know you wouldn't mind me
er...

having a look around, but I've got
a search warrant here anyway.

We have to do everything by the book
these days.

Grubbing around in other people's
affairs.

And when would you want to do this,
Inspector?

Now, if that would be convenient.

You never give up, do you?

No, it's irritating, isn't it?

My Lady. (PHONE RINGS)

Oh! I'm so sorry.

Excuse me.

Barnaby.

Yes.

Yeah, well, of course. Right away.

I'm very sorry er, but something
erm, seems to have come up.

Now, look, it's er,
it's getting late.

How about if I send a team round
tomorrow?

We'll give it a couple of hours.

(CROWS CAW)

Someone's on the move,
someone's on the move.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(SIRENS)

You drove me off the road!

I shall make a complaint.

Of course you will, Lady Chettham.
As soon as we've looked inside.

You step out of the car, please.

Freddy was born years ago.

DNA testing...to establish the
biological parents of a child...

wasn't generally available then.

We've told you the situation
regarding Freddy.

What's DNA testing to do with it?
I need my pills.

Sergeant Jones will be down with
THEM shortly.

Why all the interest in Elizabeth's
medication, may I ask?

David Roper took a lot
of painkillers the night he d*ed.

We just want to establish
where he got 'em from.

You still haven't answered my
question

about DNA testing, Inspector.

Well, maybe...Lady Chettham could.

I haven't the faintest idea
what you're talking about.

And then maybe you could er,

tell your husband about your part
in the arrest of Harry Godbolt.

What? I want my pills.

This is intolerable, treating
an elderly woman like this.

I'll get them myself.
Sit DOWN, Isobel.

What's this about Harry Godbolt?

Sir William, David Roper visited
Harry Godbolt regularly in prison

when he was ghosting Godbolt's
autobiography.

Godbolt was terminally ill.

In the end, he couldn't resist...

..boasting about his affair...

..with
the beautiful wife of the baronet.

It will all be there, won't it?

In the transcripts...

..on the laptop..

..we took from your car.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Ah, Jones.

He didn't know, did he, ever,

that it was you who turned him over
to the police?

But did he know that you were
pregnant?

Lies.

It's all lies, darling!
Jones, what do we have there?

We have...beta blockers,

anti-coagulants,

statins...

Codeine.

Yes, all right.

I gave David some pills.

He came to my room.
He forced me to hand them over.

He came to your room, did he?
Yes, now give them to me.

Even though he was so drunk he
could hardly stand? Give them to me!

Give her the pills! Shut up, Isobel!

If only you'd stayed out of that
frightful man's bed!

David Roper just had to go,
didn't he?

Poor David.

It was an act of kindness.

(GRUMBLES)

These are your favourites, David.

Lovely, lovely pills.

There, good boy.

Have a nice, long sleep.

Hng? What?

What? Hnngh! Argh!

(WHISPERS) Help me! Argh!

Hrgh! No! Argh!

Ugh!

Adapt and survive, darling.

(WHISPERS) Adapt and survive.

You and David Roper had a lot in
common, didn't you?

(SNAP)

Yes.

We both knew the pain...of FAILURE.

And Doctor Goring, was that another
combined effort?

(g*nsh*t)

'Elizabeth doesn't have the strength
to lift a g*n,'

nevermind fire it.

There's loads of rabbits in the
meadow. Take a...

(QUIETLY) Get ON with it, woman!

Don't play silly beggars,
it's loaded.

Squeeze, don't pull...

Though I would have done it. Gladly.
For the sake of the family.

Is it true?

Harry Godbolt is Freddy's father?

Yes.

But Jack was a better prospect.

I knew he would provide for Freddy.

I knew he would provide for us.

Because you couldn't.

Weak, weak, weak!

The party at the gallery.

I, I thought there was -

Mummy! No!

What's going on?
Mummy, are you all right?

That was when I...

'I told him I was pregnant.'

It's not mine, sweetheart.

He said he never wanted to see me
again.

(BURGLAR ALARM)

Oh, God. Careful, dear.

(ALARM AND DOG BARKING)

(HOARSELY) Not now, Rupert.

It's me, Dad.

It's time you got back to work.

Let me help.

Thank you, Martha.

(TWIG SNAPS) Freddy.

Where's Sid? He's gone.

I let him out yesterday
and he hasn't come back.

Good old Sid.

You know the weird thing?

It never felt right.

Jack was my father.
I never believed it.

I'm very glad...that you're
not my sister, Tal.

Me too.

Oh, I never want to see any of them
ever again!

You needn't.

We could go away.
We could go away today!

Now. This minute!

Oh, this THING! I'm suffocating!

Argh!

Ugh. I haven't got any money.

Oh, money? Money's easy.
We can always get money.

We can? How?

JOYCE: Bold Freddy Chettham.
What a shock.

Yes. Yes, indeed.

And how did Doctor Goring
get roped in?

Doctor Goring?

Oh, when Freddy was born,

they ran some blood tests.

Unfortunately the blood tests prove

that Filby couldn't possibly be the
father.

So Goring fiddled the results.

Well!

That...

Pretty good job to me.

What about The Creeper?

The Creeper, Joyce, well.
The case is still open.

But I have a feeling...

The Creeper won't be bothering us
again.

How do you know?

Instinct, Joyce.

Instinct.

(FOX CRIES)