14x05 - The Sleeper Under the Hill

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Midsomer Murders". Aired: March 23, 1997 to present.*
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Based on the crime-novel series by author Caroline Graham, `Midsomer Murders' follows the efforts of Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby to solve crimes that occur in the wealthy, isolated English county of Midsomer.
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14x05 - The Sleeper Under the Hill

Post by bunniefuu »

Ripley! Come!

Ripley? Come on, Ripley.

(CAWING)

DCI Barnaby.
Am I right?

John.

And you are Kate Wilding.

Oh.
Ah. Doctor, professor?

Both, as it happens. Kate will do.

Welcome to Midsomer.

Some welcome.
DS Jones. Ben.

It's pretty gruesome.
I've got a strong stomach.

Unlike the victim, who lacks one
entirely. He's been disembowelled.

So, was that the cause of death?
Not necessarily.

He has a head injury which looks
enough to k*ll him.

So he was already dead before
he had his guts... Let's hope so.

Time of death? Early this morning,
midnight to one o'clock

would be as good a guess as any.

So, before sunrise.

Blood sacrifice. That would be
pretty exotic, wouldn't it?

Should I assume his assailant was a man?

Well, it's a hard job
opening a body up like this.

On the other hand, I'm a woman,
and it's all in a day's work for me.

Ben. Trevor.

I heard you were first on the scene. Except
for the man who found him. Evan Jago.

Local poacher.

He's done some time for breaking
and entering. He got out

a couple of months ago.
He's still on weekly report.

So, a suspect. Well, everyone's a
suspect. Isn't that what we used to say?

It's good to see you.
Sir. Sergeant Trevor Gibson.

He was desk sergeant at Causton.
We were in the g*n team.

Clay pigeon. Ah.

Oh, erm...

I found this at the scene, sir.
A woman's brooch.

Perhaps.

Do you know who he is?
Alex Preston. This is his land.

Crowcall Farm. Can you think of
anyone who might've wanted to harm him?

Oh, yeah. Definitely.

Stone...and stars...

..and the sleeper under the hill.

Leticia Clifford and Ezra Canning.

Now, they're both high priests
of the New Dawn Druids.

And Crowcall Circle...
that's holy ground to them.

And Preston intended to plough
the meadow. He's new to farming.

He's keen on modern methods. That sort
of thing doesn't go down well round here.

Surely the circle is protected.

Yeah. But he wasn't gonna uproot the
stones. It's an ancient monument.

But a field of r*pe and a barbed wire fence
all around would've made it inaccessible.

And the druids opposed this. Ezra Canning's
been cautioned for issuing threats.

But...well, Preston had
the law on his side.

Was Preston married?

Eleanor Preston.

Not your typical farmer's
wife, either.

Had it occurred to anyone
that she ought to be told?

(DOORBELL)

Look.

We need to get Kate Wilding to
the scene, take some samples.

OK. I'll give her a call.
Well, no, erm...

Kick the door in first.

It was open. I noticed.

You look through there.

Hi, Kate. It's Ben Jones.

Can you get up to the farmhouse,
please?

(TEXT ALERT)

So he was k*lled here,
then taken to Crowcall Circle.

How did he get there? And
where's Eleanor Preston?

This could be her blood too.

What's that? Oh...I found it
on the kitchen table.

It's a woman's phone.

Hairdresser, manicurist,
yoga teacher.

Men do yoga.

We need to find Eleanor Preston.

Get a list of recent calls
from the service provider.

Wait for Kate Wilding,
show her the blood,

and see if you can get any more
local gossip out of Sgt Gibson.

Where will you be?
Looking for druids.

Oh, that's easy. They'll be wearing
sheets and talking gibberish (!)

Trev.

Mr Canning?

We're used to being made fun
of, Mr Barnaby.

Anything spiritual.

We live in a materialistic world.

Did you thr*aten Alex Preston?

Physical v*olence is alien to us.

What did you say?

I told him he was compromising his life
force by denying access to the stones.

You say he was found there
in the circle.

His body was on the central stone.

The blood stone.

Is that what it's called?
Only by the ignorant.

People love the idea of sacrifice.

Ritual blood-letting, so forth.

It's all nonsense.

The circle is sacred
to the old gods, yep.

Where were you between midnight
and one o'clock, Mr Canning?

Well...

Up until midnight...

maybe a bit after,

I was with Leticia Clifford.
She's a... A believer.

Like you.

We were going over
local deeds and charters.

It's a last ditch attempt
to stop Preston ploughing.

Any luck? Depends what you mean.

Look. I'm sorry he's dead.

I'm sorry about
the manner of his death.

But if it means Gorse Meadow
won't be ploughed,

well, I'd be lying if I told you
I was sorry about that.

(WIND CHIMES TINKLING)

Sorry he's dead, of course.

I imagine there's already talk of ritual
druid sacrifice and other such nonsense.

You were at odds with Ale
- He fenced the meadow,

knowing we were preparing
for a blood stone ceremony.

Did it quite deliberately,
of course.

The blood stone.

What's the signi- Nothing to do
with blood-letting, Mr Barnaby.

Reference to the spring equinox.

Essence of druidism.

The hallowed earth.

Happens in two day's time.

Nothing to stop us now, I suppose.

Apart from the fact that Crowcall Circle is
now a crime scene and so totally off limits.

Nettle and hartshorn.

No animal is harmed in the process.

Makes all the difference.

Ezra Canning says he was with you between
midnight and one o'clock this morning.

He was.

And, if you want my alibi,
I was with him (!)

(Hm.)

Lay lines.

An ancient power grid.

In this case, between the
churches at Long Blaydon...

..Barton Halt
and here at Midsomer Mow.

Which ends in Crowcall Circle.

Well, no. It would
make more sense if it did.

The stones carry power, Mr Barnaby.

A spiritual charge.
You must've felt it.

Well, I'm...happy to give it another go.

So er...what were you
planning on doing...

since your last ditch attempt
to stop Preston had failed?

Direct action. Meaning?

Occupy the site, picket his farm.

Anything to stop him
ploughing the meadow.

Anything (?)

Oh, don't be ridiculous!

m*rder?

It's unthinkable.
Well, somebody thought it.

Somebody planned it.
And somebody did it.

ã1.50, please sir.

(GROWLS, THEN BARKS)

Ooh, sorry.
(CONTINUES BARKING)

(GROWLS AND BARKS)

Thank you.

Folding money'd be favourite.

We take disadvantaged kids on outings.
We've got a target of 500 quid.

We're almost there.

You were a witness.

Sorry? When Ezra Canning...

threatened Alex Preston.
Yes. I was there at the time.

(GRUNTS)

Did you really expect him to dob in?
He's strapped. Everyone knows that.

Fact he's never bought a round
don't mean he's on the parish.

(DOG BARKS AGAIN) Detective
Sergeant Jones, Causton CID.

Caradoc Singer.

Few questions?
Yes, of course.

This row.

What was said?

It was about Preston's intention
to plough...Gorse Meadow.

But what was said?

Canning maintained it was sacrilege.

Preston told him he was talking drivel.

Canning said...if he had
a heart, he'd rip it out.

Or something of the sort.

Which is just what someone did.
On the blood stone.

That's what the locals call
it. It's just a grave marker.

Or was. Mr Singer's an expert.

Local history. Just a hobby.

What do you know about
the New Dawn Druids?

Harmless eccentrics.

So he says he was with her,
she says she was with him.

That's convenient. But
logical, if it's the truth.

Well, it isn't. I saw Ezra Canning last
night on the road to Alex Preston's farm.

Does the road lead nowhere else?

No. Well... I'll
take you to the farm,

if that's where you're going.

But he was not
with Leticia Clifford.

What time was this?
About 11:30. Thereabouts.

Thank you, Pam.

I was doing the rounds. There've
been some burglaries in the village.

Break-ins.

All of them at night.

What about Evan Jago?

Yeah. It had occurred.

Well, the timing's right. Kate Wilding

put Alex Preston's time of death between

midnight and one.

So why go to the trouble of carting his body
all the way to Crowcall Circle and gutting him?

Well, it makes a point.
He threatens the stones,

he dies among the stones.

I've put your dinner in the
oven. Hi.

Hi, yourself. Sorry. PTA meeting.

And you're late.

Er, not as we speak. But I will
be by the time I get there.

What do you know about druids?

Try the...Druids R Us website (!)
Is this about Crowcall Circle?

Ah. You heard. News came
with the school bus this morning.

We took the 6th form archaeology lot

They would've loved
a dead body or two.

25 minutes.
Hm? For your dinner.

Ah. Mwah!

See you.

(WHINES)

I know she's fed you already,
so don't give me that look.

(GROWLS) Cheers.

(MOBILE RINGS)

Barnaby.

I'm on my way. Call DS Jones.

Tell him to call me on the mobile.

♪ JIG

(RINGS)

Call me!

"This is DS Jones. Leave a message
and I'll get back to you."

Where are you, Jones?!
Did you get my message?

I'm on my way. Stop whatever
you're doing and call me!

(BLEEPS)

I was in the pub...
- Mobile phone provider?

It's registered to Eleanor
Preston. Thought so (!)

The most frequent recipient of
calls is someone named Aidan.

I was in the pub picking up gossip.

There was a folk/rock band playing
and I didn't hear my phone.

You called him, Aidan whoever?

It went to voice.
'To make an appointment,

call me at the club.'

What club? Don't know yet. We're
checking all sorts of local clubs.

Was Evan Jago in the pub?

Well, since you ask...no.

Find out where he was.

Caradoc Singer.

Good on local history.
Mm.

And witnessed Ezra Canning's
alleged thr*at against Alex Preston.

He's a good witness. Very clear.

I want to know what's
happened to Eleanor Preston.

Forensics have done their
stuff at Crowcall Farm.

House, land, everything.
Take the place apart.

You think she's dead?

It's a clear possibility.

Maybe I'll pay Mr Singer a visit.

I did call you back during the band's
cider break. But you didn't answer.

I was chasing a hooded figure
across Gorse Meadow at the time.

Singlehandedly (!)

Folk/rock?

Yeah. You were more
at risk than me (!)

There. Ooh, thank you.

The hare features in almost all
religious systems, Mr Barnaby.

From east to west,
from...pagan to orthodox.

It's a trickster.
It's twinned with the moon.

It's a witch's familiar.

It's a fertility symbol.

And it appears, heavily disguised,

as Alex Preston, and on the same spot...

Is both sacrifice and warning,
I'd've said.

Care for a drink? Er,
it's a little early for me.

One of the delights of retirement.
A small Scotch before midday.

Of course, this talk of sacrifice,
blood stones, it's poppycock.

The locals love it, but
there's no historical evidence

to suggest that Crowcall Circle
was anything but a burial site.

Now, if you want bloodshed...

the Battle of Hallows Beck
was fought about two miles away.

Anglo Saxon army
up against the Norsemen.

Wholesale slaughter. Guts and
body parts all over the place.

Hm. You've made a study.

I've become interested
in local history, yeah.

I find it absorbing.
Do you erm...

Do you know what this is?

Ah, yes. The Awen.

The symbol of New Dawn druidism.

If you could read mediaeval Welsh,
you'd know what it means.

Inspiration.

Three bars of primal light.

They represent the supreme being's utterance
of his own name to create the world.

(GRUNTS) Also poppycock, of course.

People need belief systems,
Mr Barnaby.

Druidism is as good as any.

So you're an expert, but not...

..a believer. Expert, no.

That's an excellent reproduction.

You say that because you know
it can't be a genuine Picasso.

Well, actually, it's an original,
but not a Picasso.

It's a Jack Weston.
Famous faker of old masters,

cubists, impressionists...

even the odd Michelangelo.

(CHUCKLES) Odd, isn't it?

How a forger can become
collectable...in his own right.

He was good.

Picasso was better.

What's going on? I'm afraid
there's been an incident.

What's happened? It's all right.
I'll take you to see somebody.

DS Jones, Causton CID.
What the hell's going on?

And I'm Detective
Chief Inspector Barnaby.

And you are...Eleanor Preston.

Yes. Let's go inside.

Who k*lled him?

There is an investigation in progress.

Yeah, well, you want to try
talking to the druids.

Alex was planning on plou...
- Ploughing Gorse Meadow. Yes, we know.

We've spoken to them. You weren't the
first person to um...point the finger.

And...?

And...we'll speak to them again.

You say he was...

He was gutted. That's so sick.

I have to ask you... where
you've been. I'm sorry.

No, I'm... No. I
was staying with friends.

Yeah. We were having a bit
of time off from one another.

You might as well know.
Alex and I, we were um...

We weren't getting on all that well.

You left your phone behind.
Yeah.

The last recorded calls
were to someone called Aidan.

Yes?
Mm.

Aidan Hardy. He's my fencing coach.

I called to cancel and rebook. I had
a few problems getting through.

Listen, erm...I don't think
I can stay here.

Sleep here, I mean.
No.

No, of course. Erm...

A hotel in Causton,
perhaps. Let us know.

Yes, of course. Same goes for you.

Sorry? Keep me informed.

Either she really was
staying at a friend's, or -

Aidan. Let's ask him. But first, I
want another look at the crime scene.

There's something that puzzles me.

Ben.

I saw Mrs Preston's car
just yesterday.

Passed me on the Causton Road, doing
well over the limit. Time? About 8:00.

Did you see who was driving?

It was a woman. Other than that...
Have you reported it?

(SIGHS) Paperwork. Yeah, OK.

She was lying. Trevor saw her
car in Causton last night.

Who's that?

Leticia Clifford. Bad-tempered druid.

Crowcall Circle is off
limits, Miss Clifford.

You are contaminating a crime scene.

Then so are you.

Except, the forensic evidence
will have been gathered, of course.

You are committing an offence.
I daresay.

Take a look.

You see? A lay line.

Directly from Long Blaydon to here.

A line of mystical power.

The church spires line up all right.

I can't see any flying saucers
(!) (CHUCKLES)

You're a sceptic, Mr Barnaby.

Like so many, you see,
but you lack vision.

Lay lines have
nothing to do with UFOs.

And they're pre-Christian.

Preston...

put barbed wire... on
the gate into the meadow.

Surely that's illegal. I could sue.

Take up your theodolite,
Miss Clifford...and walk (!)

Oh er...by the way...

Do you recognise this?

It's the Awen.

It's a symbol of
- Yes, I know what it is.

I asked if you recognised
it. Meaning, is it yours?

No. I don't approve of our symbols
being manufactured

as gift shop trinkets, Mr Barnaby.

Faith comes from within.

What did she say it was?

An Awen. A symbol of druidical power.

The word means inspiration.

Loosely translated from
the er... mediaeval Welsh.

How do you know that?

What I don't know

is how the k*ller got Preston's
body from the road to the circle.

He must've been strong enough
to er...move it singlehandedly.

Unless there were two of them.

Do you have any gloves?

Forensics should've picked that up.

Leticia Clifford cut herself.

She wasn't wearing blue.

Aidan!

We need to talk.

(Yes!) (DIALS PHONE)

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello? Hello. Ezra? It's Leticia.

I think I've found something
rather interesting.

If it's not too late,
I'll come over and show you.

I'm sorry, Leticia. I was asleep.

Early start. Oh, God.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Talk tomorrow.
Yes. Fine. See you then.

(SCREAMS)

Something's been removed from here.

Cause of death?

Pretty straightforward. Multiple
s*ab wounds. 10 at first count.

Any four of which
could've been fatal.

Overkill, you might say.

So, what was on the
paper that's been removed?

What about that?
Inflicted after death.

There's a definite taste
for gore in all this.

Who found her? Delivery man
from the local grocer's.

Came in, threw up, passed out.

And messed up my crime scene.
He got here at 9:00.

But I'd say she's been dead
for a while. 10:00 last night?

That druid thing again!
The Awen.

Maps of lay lines.

Three churches, Crowcall Circle.
There it is again!

It speaks for itself.
Blood stones, druids...

Ezra Canning kills Alex Preston.

Desecration of a holy site.

Maybe it wasn't pre-planned. Maybe he went
to the farmhouse to reason with him,

lost his temper, att*cked him,
one thing led to another.

Leticia found out, or he told her.

She refused to be an accessory.

He k*lled her to keep her
quiet. Exactly.

OK. Well, we'd better have
Ezra Canning in for questioning.

If he's still in Midsomer Mow.

(JAGO'S DOG IS GROWLING)

So, when was it taken?
Some time last night.

You didn't hear anything? Out like
a light, me. It was nigh on full, that box.

What kind of heartless bastard -

It'll be a regular, for sure.

Oh, I don't like the thought of
that, Trevor. I don't like it at all.

Out with the dog last night,
were you, Jago?

(DOG GROWLS) No!

Watching TV.
I expect he's er...

..quick on a hare.

I haven't done nothing, Gibson!

You hold your peace! Watching
telly all night, were we?

Anyone vouch for that?

Everyone knows about it.
Hare on the blood stone.

Leticia Clifford, done away with.

No secrets in this village.

Remind me. What
was on telly last night?

I think I'll do my drinking
at a different pub!

I haven't finished with you
yet. (SNARLS)

Jago! What the bloody hell, man?!

Come on!

(CAR HORN)

Are you all right?
Yeah. Evan Jago.

I asked him where he was last night.

And what with...the hare lying
dead on the bloodstone...

He's a poacher, he's also a thief.

I'm just putting two and
two. You know?

Told you 100 times. If you're not en garde
properly, you'll be carded. Anything else?

Yes. You're kinking your wrist.

(APPROACHING SIREN)

(SIREN WINDS DOWN AND OFF)

Get away!

No. Do it! Don't be stupid.

I said, do it!
Now, then, Evan!

I've got two barrels!

No. You've got two choices.

A slap on the wrist for acting
like a fool or a life sentence.

I'm warning you!
No! Evan!

Come on, now. You give it over.

You give it over now.

Get off! Calm
down, Evan. Calm down!

(BARKS)

No.

I'll k*ll you for that, Gibson!
I'll k*ll you!

Jago! I'll k*ll you!

I'll k*ll you!

Evan!

Evan?!

Evan!

I'll put out an APB.

OK.

He can't stay out here for
ever. You reckon?

He's been poaching half his life.
I think he knows how to live rough.

Come on. Show some aggression.

You're dropping your hand. What's up
with you today? Is this about the ring?

What? It is. It's about
the ring, isn't it?

I gave it to you, you gave it
back. I get the message.

Ben.

There's why.

Poacher and burglar.
m*rder in pursuit of a robbery?

Make sense, wouldn't it.
Never had a job.

Just lives on air and
what he can take off the land.

When did you buy it, Aidan? Hm?

That's what puzzles me.

Yesterday, after I told you
that Alex had been m*rder*d?

Or did you have it to hand and think,
oh, she's been a widow for a day.

Just the right time to propose
(!) Come off it.

We've been lovers for ages.
Your marriage was over long ago.

That doesn't make me
indifferent to the fact that

Alex was found in Crowcall Circle
with his intestines ripped out.

OK. So my timing was off.
Yeah.

Yeah, that's one way of putting it.

If it was all about the money,
why would I

buy you such an expensive
ring? Bait!

As far as I'm concerned, you can shove
it where the diamonds don't sparkle!

Aidan Hardy? Yes!

Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby, is a bad time.

Just a couple of questions.

Why would it be a bad time?
Mrs Preston.

She seemed erm...upset.

How can I help you, Mr Barnaby?

How long have you been
seeing Mrs Preston? Sorry?

Fencing lessons.

Oh. A year or more, I suppose.

And how's she er...coming along?

Well, she'd be better if she gave more
time to it. But she has aptitude.

Oh. Pretty deadly. You could turn
someone inside out with one of these.

Do you fence?
Oh, no. Not really.

At university. A little.

And were you any good?

Well...

Oh.

Sorry.

I assumed you knew how to defend.

Where were you last night, Mr
Hardy? Why do you ask?

There was another
m*rder in Midsomer Mow.

It's a part of er...

normal routine to check people's
whereabouts. Just...box ticking.

Is this connected
to Alex Preston's death?

It's too early to say.

Though both victims were
k*lled with some sort of...

..blade.

I was with Mrs Preston.
Ah.

We were at the pub in
Midsomer Mow having supper.

We've become friends.
Her lover.

You're having an affair, aren't you?

It's not illegal.

No. But it can lead
to things... that are.

Bleeding farmers!

Ezra...? Ezra, stop!

Ezra?!

Stop!

Stop!

Oh, f...

Ezra, stop! Stop!

Trev!

I was just cruising the lanes
looking for Jago. Luckily...

I left one up the spout.
Are you all right?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.

Ms Preston!

Ms Preston. Erm...

The people you were staying with on
the night your husband was m*rder*d.

I'd better have their details.
No! They're friends.

I don't want them dragged into this.

I know about you and Aidan Hardy.

He told you?
He didn't have to.

(RESIGNED SIGH) Look.
All right. I was with Aidan.

I told you what I told Alex.

Where? A hotel in London.

The Berkeley in Knightsbridge.
You can check. Yes.

I will. (MOBILE RINGS)

Barnaby.

Oh, yes. Er, thank you
for er... calling back.

I believe you act for a Mr Alex Preston.

Yeah. We need to talk.

Eleanor?

Can you just hold on a moment?

(CAR HORN)

You OK? Yeah.

I didn't see him.

Yes, you did.

He was trespassing.
He's a police officer!

Look. I wasn't gonna k*ll him,
for heaven's sake.

It's just, someone commits m*rder and
immediately the druids are suspect.

I was fed up with it.

I expect you've been
harassing Leticia too.

What?

Leticia Clifford was
m*rder*d last night.

I assumed you knew.

It seems to be common
knowledge in Midsomer Mow.

I haven't been into the village.

Started spraying early.
It's a big job.

I'm sorry. She
called me last night.

Said she had something
she wanted to show me.

It was late.

Said I'd see her another time.

Good acting, perhaps?

I don't think so.

He's still a prime suspect.

She was going to shop him...
so he k*lled her.

Didn't want to, but had to,
hence the tears.

He says he was in the Six
Bells until after eleven.

Offered Caradoc Singer as a witness.

Eleanor Preston and Aidan Hardy too.

Which reminds me. We're checking
the hotel she gave you.

I knew they were at it.

You were right.

All works out well for them,
doesn't it?

Now she's a rich widow.
Is she?

Obviously. She inherits.

Does she?

I checked with Preston's solicitor.

Preston changed his will recently.

The new will disinherits her completely.

Does she know?

According to the solicitor, no.

So Alex Preston found out
his wife was having an affair.

Any CCTV evidence for that?
Not yet.

OK. Keep on it.
(MOBILE RINGS)

And step up the search for Evan Jago.

Barnaby. John.

It's Kate. Hi, Kate.

Yes.

Are you sure?
No doubt about it.

OK.

Thanks.

Mr Barnaby. Please.

Does this make any sense to you?

Lay line map.

Leticia Clifford? Terrible business.

Just here she's written

Battle of Hallows Beck.
Well, that's wrong.

The battle of Hallows Beck was fought a
good two miles north of Gorse Meadow.

It's on the Midsomer Mow website.
You can look it up. Oh, I did.

Erm... Yeah, there's a
mention of... Oh. What was it?

Erm...the sleeper under the hill?

Oh, yes, yes.

The belief that the old warriors will
one day rise to avenge the slain.

Tennyson wrote a poem
on the subject.

And erm...the rest of it?

Meaningless to me, I'm afraid.

Allow me. Oh, I
er...I saw you on the TV.

I'm sorry?

As I arrived. You were...watching.
Oh, er...

No, that wasn't er...

(NERVOUS LAUGH)
I keep a visual diary.

It's er...part of my
local history...interest.

People think it's the big events that make
history, Mr Barnaby. Big events and big people.

But it's not. It's the way

ordinary people live their lives.

I...I spend time in the Six Bells
not for the company.

I go for the gossip.

Gossip...is the real history.

So you were on screen...

Telling the story of Midsomer Mow.

When I die, it'll be
put into a time capsule.

For future generations to find.

Another er...sleeper under the hill.

Yes. Since you put it that way.

(CHUCKLES) What
a delightful thought.

Goodbye.

Sergeant Gibson.
Oh, hello, sir.

To er...keep you in the picture,

I just spoke to Caradoc Singer.

He confirmed seeing Ezra Canning
in the Six Bells last night.

But can't say what time he left.
Which doesn't help us much.

Mm. You're right. However, we have
confirmed your sighting of Ezra Canning

on the road to Crowcall Farm on
the night of Preston's m*rder.

Canning admitted it in interview.

Right. Good.

Oh. Erm...and we've got
CCTV of Eleanor Preston's car

in Causton on the same night.

Thanks to you.
Just luck, really. Eh?

Right place, right time.

Secret of good policing.

Interviews with members of the New
Dawn Druids, all securely alibied.

The ones I met seemed...
rather gentle types.

Why does that surprise you?

Well...sacrifices to the earth god.

Sacrifices to the sun god.

The internet's a dangerous
place to do research, Jones.

Any sign on the CCTV of
Eleanor Preston's car?

I've had four officers working shifts
staring at a screen for two days.

But CCTV's not foolproof.

No. But it does lend weight to
a certain line of investigation.

Trevor Gibson... gave us the first lead.

The Awen brooch. So.

A stone circle, a man
dead, a druid symbol.

Then he mentioned having seen

Ezra Canning on the
road to Crowcall Farm.

And said he'd spotted Eleanor
Preston's car in Causton that night.

Where's this going? He also
as good as accused Evan Jago

of having laid the
hare on the blood stone.

Oh, come on! Very subtlely,

but quite deliberately, he has
been manipulating the investigation.

Sir
- He found the brooch.

Or...he planted it. He saw Canning.
Canning denies it. He saw Mrs Preston's car.

There's no CCTV evidence for that.

Here's something else. He
discharged a shotgun at Ezra Canning.

Yeah
- to stop him running me down. Perhaps.

But suppose that he'd
actually been aiming to k*ll.

Canning chasing you with a crop sprayer
might have been seen as an admission of guilt.

And Canning's death as a
neat end to the investigation.

I can't believe you're saying this.

Trevor Gibson...is a good cop.

I've known him for years.
How well have you know him?

Oh, this is...

There is no evidence to suggest
he planted the brooch.

Of course Canning denies
being near the farm.

CCTV is unreliable.

And maybe Jago did leave the hare.

As for the crop spraying incident,

it may have escaped your notice,
but he saved my life!

I saw Gibson today.

I told him that Canning had confessed...

to being close to Crowcall Farm
on the night of Preston's m*rder.

And that we had Eleanor
Preston's car on CCTV.

He knew perfectly well
it couldn't be true.

Yeah? How do you know?
His reaction.

Oh, this... I had a call
earlier from Kate Wilding.

The blood beneath the broken
window at Crowcall Farm.

It came up on the police database.

It's Gibson's.

She triple-checked.

He'll be off duty now.
Yes.

I'll go and talk to him.
No.

We'll take this one
together. And Jones...

My lead. OK? Sir,
I'd like to be the one -

MY lead!

Maybe he's asleep.
Maybe he's not.

Meaning...?

He's gone. Or he's at the pub.

I don't think so. We can try.

When was the last time we had rain?

A week ago. More.

(GASPS)

I'm pretty sure he drowned.

I mean, he was probably alive
when he was put in the water.

He must've been unconscious, though.

Impossible to wrestle a man into that if
he was not only alive, but also kicking.

How long has he been dead?

It's hard to be accurate
with drowning, but...two hours?

Maybe less.

One of our own.


He was one of our own.

Not a suspect. A victim.

We need to find Jago. He threatened
to k*ll Trevor, and he meant it.

Yes, OK. I'll get onto it.

Kate?

I'll need an analysis...of this.

What type of cloth, no problem.

Origin may take a little longer.
Want to take a guess?

No. Amateurs guess.

And then they apologise afterwards.

Good copper.

Explain the blood on
the farmhouse window.

He could've explained it,
given the chance.

Any sign of Evan Jago? Two search teams
- (MOBILE RINGS)

An APB issued. Nothing so
far. DS Jones.

Oh, thanks for getting back.

Are you sure about that?

7:30?

Could you send a copy of the bill
to Causton Police Station marked

Thanks.

That was the manager
of the Berkeley Hotel.

Eleanor and Aidan booked in for three
nights, but only stayed for two.

So, on the night of
Alex Preston's death...

They checked out at 7:30.
More than enough time.

Whatever they are, they don't belong.

Eleanor Preston and Aidan
Hardy! Yes.

They had time enough.

Yes, all right.
We checked out early.

So you lied. Yes.

Why? Isn't it obvious?

You didn't wanna reveal your relationship
with Mr Hardy. See? It is obvious. Or...

You didn't want to reveal
that you'd given yourself

more than enough time to go to Crowcall
Farm and m*rder your husband.

Yeah, but...why would we
have checked out?

Surely we'd have just driven
to Midsomer Mow, k*lled Alex,

driven back, gone to bed
and left the next morning.

People make mistakes.

That's how they get caught
out. Oh (!)

Why did you check out?

I ran into some friends
on their way to the restaurant.

I made up an...excuse about a...

work meeting, Aidan
took the cases to the car,

I, of course, paid the bill.

Where did you go?

Aidan's house in Long Barton.

It's risky, cos he's got
nosey neighbours.

We parked a couple of streets
away. Lowther Road?

I didn't k*ll my husband!
You cheated on him.

It's not...quite the same thing (!)

(SIGHS) Look.

It wasn't a good marriage.
I probably should've left him.

I was unfaithful to him, yes.

But we lived largely separate
lives. I felt entitled.

Do you also feel entitled to
the farm and the bank balance?

Since you ask, yes.

We might want to talk to you again.
Yeah, well, you have my number.

Crowcall Farm is longer
a crime scene, by the way.

You don't have to stay here.

I know, but I can afford it, so...

Crowcall is my past. You don't intend
to run the farm as a going concern?

Going, yes. As
in going, going...gone.

Check with the nosey neighbours.

And for any sighting of
a Mercedes convertible

parked a couple of streets away.

Shouldn't we have told her
Preston changed his will?

I think we'll keep
that for another time.

(Can't wait.)

Tea's up. Lovely. About time.

So I was right.

Prior to death, he suffered
a blow to the head here.

At the back of the cranium.
Enough to stun him.

He would've only have lost
consciousness for a few minutes.

Except for the fact that he was

Except for that. Yes.

What's that?

An incision.

Two days old, maybe.
Glass cut? Could be.

And the scraps we found in the stove?

It all takes time, John.

Oh, the search team
found some papers.

They were in his desk.
They're over there.

Like the ones found by
Leticia Clifford's body.

Not like them. They ARE the papers
she was working on when she was k*lled.

He took them before he left.

It looks that way.
How do you know?

That these papers were at the scene.
They've got her blood on them.

Another lay line!

And where they meet...

the king stone.

Oh, Leticia.

Found in Gibson's house. They
were among the papers that

Leticia Clifford was working
on when she was k*lled.

Oh, and there's more. He
had a cut on his left wrist.

The broken window at Crowcall Farm.

Mm. And that's Eleanor Preston's car.

Which is what she said.

9:30. That's when they parked.

About right for the drive from London.

They come out at...7:50AM.

Hm.

Good morning.

I didn't expect a senior detective
to be on the case.

Sorry?
The burglary.

I called the station
about an hour ago.

Someone broke in last night.

Took a bottle of brandy and
a few things from the fridge.

Ah. Well, I'm sure someone
will be out to take details.

But er...it's not me, I'm afraid.

Any damage done?

Back door was forced.
Apart from that, no.

So, why are you here?

Oh. I er...need some help.

Some advice.

Just a sec.

You know more about the stones
and their history than anyone else.

The sketches that Leticia
Clifford made. I'm sure...

they're crucial in some way. I
just can't figure out how or why.

That's why I thought a bit of
practical fieldwork might be the answer.

It was Alfred Watkins who developed
the theory of lay lines.

He put it down to early man finding the
quickest route between two points.

Nothing more to it.

To suggest they have
mystical power is waffle.

Druids believe it.
My point exactly (!)

(CHUCKLES)

There. Now, this one, for example.

It appears to follow a course...

but that takes it
outside the stone circle.

The theodolite confirms it. See?

It actually passes through
a point over there...

..where...Leticia Clifford...

wrote...

..king stone on her map.

But other reference points might
put it somewhere else entirely.

I'm sorry. I don't see the point.

Leticia was a druid.

Cults need their
rituals and beliefs.

What intrigues me is...

..why she went to such
lengths. What was she after?

Fanatics are tireless, Mr Barnaby.

It's part of their charisma.

Oh, by the way. Erm...

What do you make of this?

May I handle it? Yeah.

It's a sword pommel.
Can you date it?

I'm no expert.
Where did it come from?

Oh. Some er...ramblers
crossing the...meadow.

Which might suggest that...

..the battle of Hallows Beck

closer to here than previously thought.

Nah. I doubt it.

It's not my theory. I showed that to
the Causton Archaeological Society.

They got very excited about it. They're
planning on opening a dig on the site.

Are they? Where exactly?

Well, um...just up
there, I should think.

And er...

When do they start?
Oh, pretty soon.

Eleanor Preston's given her permission.

Yes, well...fascinating stuff.

More for your visual diary.

(MOBILE RINGS)

Jones? Superbitch, aka Eleanor Preston,
just called in to say she's leaving.

I thought we ought to
go and give her permission.

"I'll pick you up."

See you in a bit.

Is that what we were? Just a
cliche? Oh, for sure.

Me with a sad marriage,

you with a...sad bank account.

So now you're free and rich
and I'm not needed. Darling.

You were never needed.

Our affair was a distraction.
You were good in bed.

But I think we can both say
I paid my way.

You bitch!

Well, what do you want?
Another loan?

I say loan, but we both know
I mean gift, don't we?

OK? No, no, no. You're not leaving.

You're gonna stay here and we are
going to talk this through.

Yeah. Is that it...Aidan?

k*ll me...sooner than let me go?

What are you gonna do...hm?

What are you waiting for?

Actual bodily harm. Textbook case.

Self defence.

If you're here to tell me I can't leave,
you'd better charge me with something. No.

I won't be doing that. I know
you didn't k*ll your husband.

CCTV evidence puts you exactly
where you said you were.

You're free to go whenever
and... wherever you like.

You've had all
you're having from me.

Seems your husband feels
the same way about you.

He changed his will.

Apparently, he has
a brother in New Zealand.

Who inherits everything.

House, land, cash.

You've seen the will? Oh,
the reference to you is erm...

It's very specific.

'To my wife Eleanor, liar
and cheat, I leave nothing.'

'I would leave her less if I
could.' (CHUCKLES)

I shall contest it.

I'm sure you will.

And I'm just as sure
it'll make no difference.

No, thanks.

(SIREN)

Get the painting!

Oh, leave me in peace, will you?!

Darling? Can you make a salad?

Yeah. What do you want in
it? Lettuce?

Tomato? Fennel? Salad stuff (?)

No problem.

Good day? Erm...

Remains to be seen.

I had two sets of angry parents.

One lot pushy, the
other lot not pushy enough.

I had a bent copper.

Now a dead copper.

And the end of an affair. And lay lines.

Crowcall Circle? Yes.

I'm taking the...6th form
lot up there.

To help at the dig.
What does fennel look like?

Greenish.

So erm...chop it all up, then?

John. It's a salad (!)

What time's dinner, by the
way? Well, I just put

a 4lb chicken in the oven at 180,
so you can work it out.

Why do you want to know?
Oh, I've got to go out again.

When? (MOBILE RINGS)

About now (!)

Barnaby. "He
said to call you, sir."

"He's on the move."

Perfect.

Sorry.

(SCREECHES)

Stay away! Stay away!

(SIREN STARTS UP AND MEN SHOUT)

That's enough! No! That's enough!

Caradoc Singer, I'm arresting
you on suspicion of m*rder.

You do not have to say anything, but
it may harm your defence if you fail

to mention when questioned
something you later rely on in court.

Somewhere off this room...

..there's more to this
house than meets the eye.

Where is the Braque, Singer?

Where's what? When I saw you
watching yourself on TV...

..that was filmed in another room.

Never mind.

Sir?

Oh!

Behind that? Jones?

(LAUGHS)

Jones? Lights.

Picasso...Dali...

..Giacometti...

..Stubbs...Klimt.

Just the ones I know.
Must be worth millions.

Local gossip says...
he was penniless.

Lived like a miser.
Well, that was his cover.

No, I should think he's got a
substantial number of offshore accounts.

You are about to enjoy a tour of one of
the world's great art collections.

My name is Caradoc Singer.

By the time this is being viewed,

I shall have d*ed.

But my fame as being one of the world's
great collectors... will live on.

It wasn't about appreciation.
It was about ownership.

Am I right?

It was about appreciation.

Meaning only you could
properly appreciate

the Gorse Meadow treasure.

It was the ultimate collectable.

When Alex Preston brought me
the first few items,

I knew...it was
the find of the century.

And I had to have it.

He turned up a snake amulet...

and a brooch.

He didn't know what he'd got.

But he thought I might.

And I did.

I'm prepared to make you
a better offer.

For the bracelet?
For whatever you find.

He guessed it was treasure trove.

No.

This was close to the surface.

Who knows what's deeper down?

Treasure trove? There are laws.
I need to know where I stand.

But Preston proved annoyingly honest.

He wanted to report his find

and take whatever might
be his legal share.

He went to Trevor Gibson to find out
about the legal position on ownership.

And Gibson told him
to keep quiet about it.

But Preston mentioned that he
had already shown his find to you.

Gibson told me...

he'd consulted some experts.

Who said the items
were of little interest.

Of little interest? Please!

I'm not simpleminded!

I knew what he was up to.

It was his chance of the good life.

Did Gibson tell you he
was going to k*ll Preston?

He hinted. I encouraged.

Which is why Gibson
pretended to have found...

an Awen brooch at the scene.

I gave it to him.

He'll have to die. This'll help.

Incriminating evidence.

Easy to manipulate
someone that...needy.

Preston had to die.

He was about to reveal the location
of the horde to the world.

And taking the body
to Crowcall Circle.

Disembowelling him.
Whose idea was that?

Again, I might've hinted.

Because people tend to associate druids
with all sorts of er... nasty rituals.

And it was common knowledge that
they and Preston were at loggerheads.

Something's wrong.
And Leticia Clifford?

The lay line through
the churches seems to

bypass the circle.

Perhaps it passes through the spot
where the king stone would've stood.

She was getting too near the truth.

And she was right about
the Battle of Hallows Beck

being fought much closer
to Gorse Meadow, wasn't she?

It was fought IN Gorse Meadow.

After the battle was
over, the victorious Saxons

buried the horde and used the king stone

as a marker.

Who k*lled Leticia?

Oh, Gibson.

Policemen seem quite habituated
to violent death.

But it was your idea.
A hint well taken.

(SCREAMS)

And carving the Awen into her forehead?

Would make Ezra Canning
an obvious suspect.

The Awen...? Embroidery.

In both senses of the word.

So, was it Gibson's idea to
provoke Jago in the Six Bells?

Ah, yes. Jago was our wild card.

And, as luck would have it,
he found the body.

Gibson put the gutted
hare on the blood stone.

Gibson knew you were onto him.

He made the mistake
all amateur liars make.

He overcompensated.

The hare lying dead
on the blood stone.

He's a poacher, he's also a
thief. When you told him

that you'd confirmed
the fake sightings,

he knew it was just
a matter of time.

He called me, said he was going
to make a run for it.

I'll just disappear. I'll
get a cross-channel ferry -

No, no! They might be waiting
for you to do just that!

Go home. Don't worry.
I'll think of something.

You couldn't bring yourself
to bludgeon him to death.

The very thought turned my stomach. But
it was a job that had to be done.

Gibson didn't tell you...

that he'd kept this, did
he? No.

But when you said it had been
found by ramblers

and that the archaeological society
were about to open a dig...

Yes. That was very clever of you.

Tell me. What made you...suspect me?

What did I do wrong?

You didn't need to display
the er... the stolen pieces.

It was enough for you just to
own them. But you couldn't resist

the idea of having just
one of them out to look at.

To gloat over.

The Picasso. I asked
you if it was a copy.

You said it was a fake. But a
Jack Weston. A collectable fake.

You just couldn't bear the
idea of letting me think

that you might possess
something as crude as a copy.

It didn't look like a fake to me.

I checked.

Jack Weston never copied a Picasso.

Where will my collection be housed?

It'll be catalogued
by the Art Squad.

Then everything will be returned
to its rightful owners.

I am the rightful owner.
Not a chance!

These pieces must be kept together.

No-one could love them as I do!

Love and possession
aren't the same thing.

Didn't anyone ever tell you that?

It must be shown. It must displayed
for the world to see!

Nah.

It'll just be a little paragraph
at the bottom of page five (!)

The story of a common criminal.

The Picasso was a mistake.

But your biggest error

was something you couldn't avoid.

Something that makes
you the person you are.

Something...the gods always punish.

You want this to be
your enduring legacy?

No. This will only be seen

..as prosecution exhibit number one.

Then never to be seen
or exhibited again.

What was it?

The thing the gods always punish?

Hubris, Jones. Arrogance.

Caradoc Singer is directly
responsible for three deaths.

And his so-called love of art
is really nothing but self-love.

Which never ends well.

Mrs Barnaby? What is it?

It looks like a Saxon cloak brooch.

Could be solid gold.

Oh, wow!

Look! Solid gold.

It's part of a Saxon horde
that's lain here for 1,000 years.

It's a cloak brooch.
It's beautiful, isn't it?

Worth how much? Ooh, half a million?
Easily. Maybe more.

(WHISTLES) That much. Really.

Come on.

John? John!
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