14x07 - A Sacred Trust

[bunniefuu]

(SCREAMS)

Did you see anything?
Nothing.

My...

my bloody trousers have gone!

(LAUGHS)
Shut up!

TV: Lanzarote is one of the
UK's favourite holiday destinations.

The Prescotts and Dudleys always take
their breaks in Morecambe.

GIRL ON TV:
I normally go with my mum and dad!

(TV CONTINUES)

Yeah, about tonight...

change of plan.

(MUMBLES) Give me the bag!

KATY: Night!
LANDLORD: Night, love.

Wah-hey!

Yeah, Callum!

Idiot!

Ready? Go!

Cal...

Yes!

(BELL RINGS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(BELLS RING)

Yes?
Oh...

Detective Sergeant Jones,
Causton, CID.

Yes?

Who am I speaking to, please?

The Prioress, Mother Julian.

I understand you've had a bit of
trouble. We didn't call the police.

No, Bethany Hargreaves,
from the market

told me you'd had a window broken.

Mind if I come in and take a look?
There's really no need.

Don't you want us to catch whoever
did it?

We'd rather pray for them. Good day,
Sergeant. Thank you for coming.

I'll leave you my card,

just in case you change your mind!

You'll need another plank,
Catherine.

Oh, careful with those nails, dear!

I wish I could catch whoever did
this. I'd put some nails in them.

Mother Jerome, it's only a window.

It's not... only a window.

It's a Burne-Jones.
It must be properly restored.

And how would we pay for that?
You know what I think.

Indeed I do but we are not selling
the chapel silver.

It would pay for the window and a
whole lot more besides!

Sell one treasure to pay for the
repair of another? No.

Let's take a vote on it.

Very well, I vote no, of course.

Mother Thomas?

Sell.

Mother Jerome?

Sell.

Catherine?

No.

Then as Prioress, I have the
deciding vote.

(BOLTS BEING DRAWN ON DOOR)

Thank you.

(ORGAN PLAYS)

(NUNS PRAY IN LATIN)

(HENS CLUCK)

(SCREAMS)

(CHOKES)

Please, just follow me.

Who is she?
Mother Thomas Aquinas.

Hang on, where you going?

I'm sorry. It's time for prayer.

(BELL TOLLS)

(CHICKENS CLUCK)

(APPROACHING SIREN)

Morning, John. Jones b*at you to it.

I encourage enthusiasm in my staff.

What do we have?

A strangulation. She's been dead
for at least 10 hours, I'd say.

There's no ligature mark around the
neck

but petechiae all over her face,
scalp...

signature injuries caused by
ruptured capillaries.

She put up quite a fight,
poor thing.

Where are the rest of the nuns?

In the chapel praying.

That's their job, I suppose.

(DOOR OPENS)

Mother Julian?

I'm Detective Chief Inspector
John Barnaby.

I'm sorry for intruding so soon
but it's important that we speak.

Mother Thomas is with God.

I'm afraid it's fairly clear that she
was m*rder*d.

I'll be in charge of the
investigation

and I'd like your permission

to set up an incident room
here at the priory.

I'm sorry but that won't be
possible.

Why not?

Midsomer Priory is a house of
prayer, Chief Inspector.

We can't have police officers
stamping around at all hours

and shouting into their mobile
telephones.

I can assure you we will treat the
priory with the utmost respect.

I suppose you could use the old refectory but
you'd have to observe our Hours of Silence.

Which are?
10am to 12.

Two to five in the afternoon

and nine at night until six
the following morning.

Perhaps it'd be best if we worked out
of Causton police station.

And I'd like to speak to everyone who
lives here as soon as possible.

(DOOR OPENS)

I need to see the whole
community, please.

This is the whole community... now.

Right. Can I have the victim's name
in full, please?

Mother Thomas Aquinas
of the Order of St Mathilde.

I mean her name in real life.

Mother Thomas entered the order
when she was 20.

And she celebrated her 60th birthday
last year.

This was her real life.

Her name before she joined
the order, then. I don't remember.

It will be on file somewhere.

Who was the last person to see her
alive?

We all did. Last night at Compline.

That's the final service of the day.

After that, Mother Thomas went to
shut the hens in as usual.

What were the rest of you doing?

I - I stayed in the chapel.

How long were you there?
An hour or so.

And you heard nothing?
No.

Who locks up at night?
Usually it's Mother Thomas.

Last night I asked her to leave the
front door open

and I locked it when I came in from
the chapel.

What did you do, then?

As soon as Compline is over,
the Great Silence begins.

We retire to our rooms and don't
meet again until morning.

Any er... regular visitors to
the priory?

Doctors, tradespeople, domestic help?

We do all our own work
in the house and grounds.

A young woman comes every week

to collect our produce for sale in
the market.

Bethany Hargreaves, sir.
She told me about the chapel window.

Dr Jacobi calls once a month and
there's our chaplain, Father Behan.

He comes on Sundays, Fridays and
Holy Days.

Whether we want him to or not.

(CHUCKLES)

Could I take a look at this broken
window of yours?

Any idea who did this?

Vandals. We found some beer bottles
amongst the broken glass.

Do you still have them?

We put them out with the
rubbish. Is it important?

It might be.

What can you tell me about Mother Thomas's
life before she came to the Priory?

Very little, I'm afraid.
She was Irish.

Her brother used to visit, but he
hasn't been for several years.

Did they fall out?
Not that I'm aware.

As time passes
it gets harder and harder

to find things to talk about
with people from the outside.

That's been your personal experience?

I haven't had a visitor since my
mother d*ed, 18 years ago.

But I've observed it, in others.

You've been here a long time?

I joined the Order in 1978.

Before that I was a missionary.

Forgive me.

You've had an awful shock.

I created the garden here, you know?

And I made it profitable too.

When did you come to the Priory,
Mother Jerome?

About... 1981.

After my second husband d*ed.

And my daughter had grown up and
emigrated,

and I'd had enough of men.

And why here?

My great aunt was Prioress
here in the 1930s.

Of course, it was a far bigger
community then.

60 nuns, at its peak!
And look at us now.

Catherine's our first recruit in
nearly 30 years.

Is this usually a happy place, would
you say?

Mother Thomas and Mother Julian
never really got on.

Why's that?

(Mother Thomas wanted to be
Prioress.

But it was Mother Julian
that got elected.)

And do you think that was the wrong
decision?

I created the garden here, you know?

And I made it nice and profitable
for us all. Hm...

Do you mind if I carry on?

There are 20 kilos of fruit to make
into jam before the wasps get it.

Go ahead.

What sort of person was Mother
Thomas?

Plain-spoken. Practical. Kind.

Are you OK?

Fine.

How long have you been here?
Three years.

And your name before you arrived?

Catherine Norrington. It still is,

until I make
my final vows next week.

Previous occupation?

I was at Oxford, doing post-doctoral
research in the History faculty...

Catholicism in England
after the Counter-Reformation.

Right.

And you gave it up because...?

Because I found God.

Or rather, God found me...

and led me to Midsomer Priory.

Do you mind if I ask about past
relationships? With men, I mean.

A few, all over long ago.

Any of them serious?

You mean, is there a man out there
still so madly in love with me

that he m*rder*d Mother Thomas

to frighten me into changing my mind
about becoming a nun?

Something like that, Sister
Catherine. Yes.

It just seems so unlikely.

No.

Everything was perfectly amicable

and, as far as I'm aware, none of
them even knows where I am.

She didn't have much.
Nothing personal.

What do you make of the good nuns?

Give me a nice straightforward armed
robber any day.

(CHUCKLES)
I'd be climbing the walls.

Let's take a look around outside.

Apparently there's a small wood
beyond the chapel.

This is a weird place, isn't it?

I think it's rather beautiful.
The main house is Tudor, if I'm not mistaken.

Those women, though, the robes,
men's names. It's not normal, is it?

You're still a good Welsh Baptist at
heart, aren't you, Jones?

Nothing wrong with that, sir.
Apart from the teetotalism.

And the hymn singing.

No escape is there?
Even when they're dead.

'Let not your heart be troubled...

ye who believe in God, believe
also in me.

In my Father's house are many
mansions:

If it were not so,
I would have told you.

I go to prepare a place for you.

And if I go and prepare
a place for you... '

'..I will come again, and receive
you unto myself;

"That where I am, there ye may be
also."

A-ha... A dingily dell.

Well, this is the sort of place the k*ller
might have hidden out while they were waiting.

Well, if he did...

he had himself a bit of a party.

Sorry to have kept you both.

I've been on the phone to the Bishop about
this tragic business. Sit down, please.

Thank you for er...
finding the time, Father Behan.

I understand you visit the Priory
twice a week, or more?

That's right. It's my privilege to
serve as chaplain.

I say mass for the nuns,
hear their confessions,

which I can't talk about, obviously.

No. But is there anything
you can tell us

that might have a bearing
on the m*rder?

Any er... worries or special tensions
inside the convent?

Well, not to my knowledge, no.

Four people living so closely
together must have had disagreements.

Yeah, probably.

The original nuns at the Priory were
French aristocrats, Inspector,

and the present lot regard
themselves as their heirs.

Whatever was going on, they'd put up
a show in front of the servants.

It is essentially how they see me.
And you resent that, understandably.

Not at all. I find it quite amusing.

But for their own sakes,

I wish they'd be a little more open
to good advice.

Can you give us an example?

They need to adapt to the
modern age.

It's absurd, four women...

three now...

rattling round
in that huge building,

when they haven't the money to
maintain it.

I've told them they should move
somewhere more modest,

rent the Priory out, sell it.

You'd think I'd suggested turning
the place into a lap-dancing club.

Well, can't you just order them to
make changes?

Chance would be a fine thing.

I've no power over them at all.

They're sitting pretty up at the
Priory, and don't they know it.

You're here about the m*rder,
I take it?

Shocking thing. Can't believe it,
can you?

You seen or heard anything unusual?
Any strangers been in lately?

Not that I recall. Katy?

Not in here.

But I did see a woman
a couple of nights ago.

Outside, as I was leaving. Looked a bit lost,
but she'd gone before I could speak to her.

Can you describe her?
It was dark.

But she was wearing these
really odd clothes.

Odd?
Old-fashioned.

Like a nun's habit?
No. She did have a hat on, though.

A sort of beret.

Which direction did she go in?

Along towards the new houses.
OK. Thanks.

Is it true they're not
allowed to talk, the nuns?

Oh, they talk all right.

We used to sneak into the Priory
grounds, when we were kids...

for a dare, like.

I took a girl there once.

Added to the thrill,
if you know what I mean.

(SCHOOL-CHILDREN GIGGLE)

Hi, there. Can I
have a quick word, girls?

It didn't occur to you to check the
safe after the m*rder?

Your sergeant asked if anything
appeared to have been disturbed.

He said nothing about checking
locked safes.

Could you describe the missing
pieces, please, Mother Julian?

A chalice... which is a goblet, for
the communion wine...

Two candlesticks,
about three feet high,

and a beautifully engraved paten.
What's a paten?

A plate, essentially.
All in chased silver,

early 17th century French.

Magnificent.

French?
The Order of St Mathilde

was established in France in 1590,
Chief Inspector.

200 years later,
during the revolution,

the nuns were forced to flee,
and were given sanctuary here.

The silver was all they had to bring
with them.

We only use it on special occasions.

Christmas, Easter...

And the mass to celebrate
Catherine's Final Vows.

How much is the silver worth?

£60,000.

That's very precise.

We consulted a dealer recently,
with a view to selling it.

Can I have the name of the dealer
please?

I don't know. Mother Thomas handled
the matter.

So you didn't go through with it?

We talked about it and prayed,

as we do about all decisions.
And decided against.

Huh!

It's such an important part of our
heritage!

Father Behan said

you were "sitting pretty"
at the Priory. What did he mean?

What a vulgar expression.

I suppose he was referring to the
Deed of Trust. Yes?

When the nuns came to England in
1790, they had nothing.

Except 60,000
quid's worth of silver.

Indeed.

A devout and charitable landowner
called Sir Anthony Vertue

made over the Priory to the Order,

for as long as there should be a
community on this site.

Now there are so few of us left,

Father Behan thinks the house and
land could be put to better use.

But he can't force us out.

And if there were no nuns left,

would the Church be able to sell the
Priory then?

No. It would revert to the heirs of Sir Anthony.
Do you know who they are?

No.

Does Father Behan know this?
I've never discussed it with him.

JONES: Looks like it's pretty
straight-forward after all.

Go on then.

Mother Thomas picked a dodgy dealer.

He was looking for a bargain, when
it all fell through,

he took what he wanted. Poor old
dear caught him, he throttled her.

How did he get into the safe?
Probably forced her to open it.

Then he k*lled her
in the chicken coop

after they smoked a joint together
in the dell (?)

What do you think happened, then?

Oh, I agree that's
the most obvious scenario.

So when we get back to the nick,

it's OK to start contacting
silver dealers then?

Hm, and get the fingerprint
guys out here,

just in case.
Since we're keeping an open mind.

How many nuns does it take to
form a community?

Is this one of those jokes?

'How many folk singers does it take
to change a light bulb?'

I don't do jokes, Jones.

No, sir. I noticed.

The answer's four, by the way.

One to change it, and three to sing
about how good the old one was!

What's he like (?)

I went down to the mortuary, but
they said you were finished.

It's as I thought -
manual strangulation.

Sorry, Joe.

She was in good shape for a woman of
her age.

Ah, the simple life.

Homegrown food, no booze, no stress.

The k*ller was probably taller than
the victim,

unless he forced her on to the
ground. Big hands, but not massive.

He?

Strangling someone with your bare
hands takes a lot of strength.

Oh, the nuns work in the garden,
do all their own housework.

No, you're right.

Nuns don't just up
and k*ll other nuns.

Oh, I wouldn't put anything past
that lot.

Holy Crows, we used to call them.

Top-class convent education, John.
Made me what I am today.

Which is?

A rationalist and an atheist.

Right index finger first, thank you.

Now left index finger, thank you.

Right index finger.

Now your left index finger.

Thank you.

JONES: 'Pair of gold-plated altar
candlesticks, English, circa 1885.'

'Ivory rosary,
17th century Italian.'

Oh, here's one: 'Oak rood-screen,
mid-Victorian, 40 feet by 15 feet.'

Just the thing
for Mrs Barnaby's birthday.

Oh, Jones. Yes, sir. Be quiet.

(PHONE RINGS)

DS Jones.

Oh, hi, Lindsay.

Really, that's great.

No, I won't mention your name, no.

How old is she, by the way?

That's great thank you. Bye.

That was Lindsay Smith,

one of the kids I met off the school
bus the other day at Midsomer Vertue.

A girl called Tamsin Bickford

has been bragging about climbing
into the convent grounds

and having sex with the school stud.

Excellent.

Not the erm...
Just go and talk to her.

It was just the once. He didn't tell me what sort
of place it was, just that it was nice and quiet.

And when was this, Tamsin?
Monday.

You sure about that?

Mmm... Me and Duncan, we're both
free last period on Mondays.

Duncan knew his way around
the grounds, did he?

Yeah. He took me straight
to this place,

like a kind of a dip in the grass.

Yeah, the dell.

We sat down and, like, talked.

Smoked a bit of puff, maybe?

It's OK. I'm not interested in that.

Anyway, like I was saying, we...

talked, and then we started, like...

Yeah, yeah... I get the picture.

And we were just getting
well into it, when...

all of a sudden I saw this, big
black thing standing over us.

A nun?
Well, yeah, but I couldn't even see

that it was a person at this point.

So I screamed, and pushed Duncan
off me, and I could see her then.

And what did she look like?

Old. Glasses.

I couldn't see anything else,
really.

How old is "old"?

45? 60?

Anyway, we ran off and when we came
back to get our stuff, she'd gone.

And so had Duncan's trousers!
What?

His trousers. He'd taken them off.
And she must have picked them up.

Have you been back since? No way.
That place gives me the creeps.

OK, thanks, Tamsin. I'll be in touch
if I need anything else.

Er, you won't, come to my house, or
anything, will you?

I mean, I'm 17,
but my mum'd k*ll me.

Well, we can't have that, can we?
I'll see you.

Cheer up, Catherine.

'Silver and gold have
I none', remember?

If it was good enough for St Peter,
it's good enough for us.

Ah...

You're dripping into the tomatoes!

Ow! Mother! You know the doctor said
you're not to get out of your chair.

Ow!
Doctors!

(LAUGHS)

Mrs Hendred? I wonder if we might
have a word with your son Duncan?

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,
Causton CID,

and this is Detective Sergeant Jones.
You must be joking!

DUNCAN: I didn't do anything wrong.

You did as it happens.
Trespass, at the very least.

Oh... Stupid bitch... shouldn't have
said anything.

Talk about all your girlfriends like
that, do you, Duncan?

Why aren't you arresting that
old woman that nicked my trousers?

You heard about the m*rder up at the
Priory, I take it?

I didn't have anything to do with
it! Sure about that? Yes.

You broke the chapel window
though, didn't you?

What happened: you were angry

because you were
made to look stupid,

so you went back with your mates for
a bottle-throwing contest?

I don't know what you're talking
about.

You come into any money lately,
Duncan? No.

Just wondering because some very
valuable silver

was stolen from the Priory.
Probably on the night of the m*rder.

I didn't steal it.

Is that it?

That's it for now.
What the hell is - Shh!

(DOOR CLOSES)

I apologise for my son's manners.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

and Detective Sergeant Jones,
Causton CID.

Is Duncan in trouble?

Not exactly, Mr Hendred.
Not at the moment, anyway.

What's he supposed to have done?
Best you ask him about that, sir.

You obviously don't have teenage
children, Inspector.

You don't say anything, OK?

(DOOR CLOSES)

What do you think? Duncan and his
mates broke the window, for sure.

The m*rder? I'd swear he didn't know
anything about the silver.

Yeah, Callum? Some coppers have been
round sticking their noses in.

HENDRED: Duncan! Downstairs, now!

Yeah, OK... I gotta go.
Er, we'll sort it. OK, bye.

Hello, Lauren.

What is it? What's the matter?

You mustn't say a word about this
to anyone, James. Of course.

I think...

I'm afraid that my son might have

something to do with the m*rder up
at the Priory.

Here she comes.

ALL: Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag.

Slag. Slag. Slag. Slag.

BOY: Dirty little whore!

Hey, what's wrong...
Tamsin, isn't it?

N... nothing. I'm fine, but thanks.
Are you sure?

Yes, Mrs Barnaby. Thanks.

Thank you.

Lindsay.

I don't know what just
happened here, gentlemen,

but it had better not happen again.

I do not expect to have to deal with
bullying among the sixth-form!

Is there something you wanted to say
to me, Duncan? No, Mrs. Barnaby.

On your way, then.

Don't push it!

The blood of Christ.
Amen.

The body of Christ.
Amen

The blood of Christ.

(RAISED VOICES)

FATHER BEHAN:
You have to tell them, Mother!

MOTHER JULIAN: I don't see why.
Anything I said

under the seal of the confessional
is between you, me and God.

Don't presume to explain my priestly
obligations to me, Mother Julian!

Would you please keep your voice
down!

Putting me in an
impossible position here!

(DOOR SLAMS)

Hey Cal, Cal.

We're all in this together,
remember? Course we are.

Not a word to the cops about
anything.

Sure. Mate...

Cos you know what happened to that
old nun, don't you?

(BELL RINGS)

OK.

Stir fry OK?

Unless you've added another dish to
your repertoire since last week.

Hmm...

What do you know about the kids from
Midsomer Vertue?

This is official business, is it?
Deep background.

Well, erm... There's Rebecca Platt,

who plays hockey for the Midsomer
County Under-14s,

but I don't suppose you're
interested in her.

Erm... There must be others,

but the only one I know anything
about is Duncan Hendred.

And?

Sixth-former. He's only been at
Causton for a couple of years.

He got thrown out of two or three
private schools before then.

There's rumours that he's
part of a druggy set,

but he's never been caught
red-handed.

Anything else?

Yeah, there was an incident, not
long before I arrived.

He b*at up a younger boy, and hurt
him quite badly.

He should have been permanently
excluded, but I gather,

his father wrote a big fat cheque,
the school got a new music suite...

And nothing more was said. I see.

I take it that won't be happening if
young Duncan steps out of line again?

Ah, thank you.

Why do women become nuns,
do you think?

I don't know. To get a bit of peace,
away from men

who keep interrupting them
while they're trying to work (?)

I'm sorry about the lady
at the convent.

Thanks, Katy. It's a terrible thing
all right.

We're all really upset about it.

Though Katy here didn't even know the
convent existed until this happened.

Yeah, my point exactly!

The m*rder was a tragedy, right
enough,

but maybe the shock will do them
good.

What d'you mean?

Three women locked away
in that great big mansion,

living like royalty. It can't go on.

Oh...

Good night to you both.

Good night.

Good night, Father.

I don't care if he is a priest.
I don't like him. Hey.

He's a good customer.

We should see about ordering some
new birds.

I don't think we can afford it,
Mother.

No hens, no eggs to sell.

And we'll have to k*ll one for
Catherine's feast.

That really isn't necessary.
Oh yes it is.

It's the most important day of your
life, Catherine.

I don't know who's going to do the
deed, though.

Don't worry.
You catch it, I'll wring its neck.

Duncan.

Yeah?

Like to have a chat with you. Is
there somewhere private we could go?

Anything you want to say to me, you
can say here.

Well, growing up is hard, Duncan.

You might find this difficult to
believe,

but I well remember being your age.

Sometimes we do stupid things,
things we regret.

I can read people pretty well,
Duncan - you have to, in my job.

I think there's
something troubling you...

a grave sin, weighing on your
conscience.

Why don't you come to confession,
tell me about it? I can help you.

Nice try, Father. But you can save that crap for my mum.
Me and dad don't go for it.

You care a lot about what your dad
thinks, don't you, Duncan?

So?

If you choose not to seek my help,

I'll have no option but to go
to your father,

and see if he can get through
to you.

Now, think about it.

Don't take too long.

Here we are!

G & T for Serena.

Half a bitter for Colin -
very restrained, old man...

white wine for Lauren.

Cheers! Cheers. Cheers.
Good to see you both.

Colin's probably told you, Serena,

he and I have been seeing rather a
lot of each other lately.

Not that you've got anything to
worry about (!)

He mentioned that you're planning

to make a very generous donation
to the Hospice Fund.

I believe in looking after

the little local charities
as well as the big guys.

Oh look, it's Father Behan!
Lauren, nice to see you.

Matthew.
Not often I have the pleasure.

Hung up your cassock for the night,
Father?

Ah... Enjoy yourselves, now.

Sorry about that. Harmless enough
little man,

but a pain in the proverbial!

Matthew!

Evening, Father.

For God's sake get the money out of
him soon.

I can't stand another evening with
that ghastly man. I'll do my best.

You're buying the fish and chips
on the way home. Deal.

These trees need a bit of TLC.

I know, Dad,
but we don't have the time

or the nun-power. Especially now.

We've er...
We've brought you something.

A little present to mark the
occasion.

Delia?

It wasn't easy to think
of something appropriate.

(LAUGHS)

It's perfect. Thank you.

You are allowed to have it?
Of course.

Please, Catherine, don't do it!

Look, I'm not, I'm not asking
you to leave the convent,

but please will you delay
taking these final vows?

Your feelings might change.
Just take some more time.

I've been here three years, Mum,

and they've been the happiest
of my life.

This is my home now.

This is where I belong.

Mum...

Are you sure you don't want me to
come to the ceremony?

Stay home and look after Mum.

Excuse me, sir.

My name's John Barnaby. I'm in
charge of the m*rder investigation.

Oh, yes, yes. Dreadful business.

George Norrington.
Delia and I came to visit Catherine.

Ah, you're her parents?
Yes. That's right.

Erm... Might I have a word,
before you go?

Well, er...
Delia is a little upset just now.

Ah, and I need to talk to the
Prioress.

Look, why don't you go to the pub
just down the road,

and I'll meet you there as soon as I
can get away? The Vertue Arms.

Best idea I've heard all day.

(KNOCK ON DOOR)

Come in, Mr Barnaby.

Don't you ever answer the phone? I called you
half-an-hour ago, outside the hours of silence.

I must have been cleaning the
bathroom.

Oh.

A young lady from Causton has been telling
us how she and her boyfriend were erm...

enjoying themselves, in your grounds,

when a nun came along and caught
them. Was it you?

You can use the word sex in here,
Chief Inspector.

You won't be struck by lightning.

But no, it wasn't me.

Probably Mother Thomas.
She liked to walk in the grounds.

Bit odd she didn't mention it to you
at the time, isn't it?

It must have slipped her mind.

Or else she decided not to bother us with
something so trivial and unpleasant.

What about the deliberate smashing of the chapel window?
Would you call that trivial?

You think that was done by whoever it
was Mother Thomas caught in the dell?

Probably.

How do you know they were in the
dell?

It's a favoured spot, Mr Barnaby.

We've all caught young couples
there, over the years.

Oh, erm. You haven't by any chance

found a stray pair of trousers around
the place?

Why? Have you lost some?

So that's a steak and chips, rare,
and a cheese salad.

That'll be about 20 minutes.

Hello there, can I get you a drink?
Not for me, thanks. Mrs Norrington.

Thank you for waiting.
That's all right.

How often do you visit your daughter?

We've been coming every three months,
since she entered the Priory.

It's all we're allowed.

And once she's taken her final vows
we'll be down to twice a year.

Has Catherine ever said anything to you, about
any bad feelings inside the convent, maybe?

Or erm, someone outside with a grudge
against the nuns?

All she ever talks about is how
wonderful it is to be there,

devoting her life to God.

You don't approve?

She was such a normal, happy child.

She was so clever, she had lots of
friends,

she loved her clothes and her music,

all the usual teenage stuff.

And then suddenly, in her mid-20s,

she tells us
she's gonna become a nun!

We find it baffling, I must admit.

Catherine's father was a devout
Catholic,

but she never showed any interest
in religion not as a girl.

Hm. Aren't you Catherine's father?

Oh, my first husband d*ed,
when Catherine was two.

I married George a few years later,
and he adopted her.

I'm her dad, but not actually
her father.

(DOOR BELL)

Well, hello there.
I'm glad you could come.

Have a safe journey, sir.

Mr Barnaby, do you think
Catherine's in any danger?

Uh, we don't at this point, know who
the k*ller is,

so we don't know their motive.

But there's no reason to believe that
the other nuns are in danger, no.

Thank you.

Goodbye, Inspector.
Thanks very much.

Oh, erm... By the way, what was your
first husband's surname...

Catherine's surname, before she
became Norrington?

Vertue. Same as the village,
and the pub. Isn't that strange?

ANSWER PHONE: Father James Behan.
I can't speak to you at the moment.

Please leave a message. I'll
get back to you as soon as I can.

James? It's Lauren.,
I'm at your house. Where are you?

(SCREAMS)

Kate?

He's dead, John. I've not had
time to determine much else.

It looks like another strangulation.

Time of death? No more than two hours
ago. Probably quite a bit less.

You think it's the same k*ller?
I certainly hope so.

JONES: Thank you, Mrs Hendred. I'll have that
typed up and will arrange for you to sign later.

Oh, excuse me.

There's no sign
of forced entry, sir.

Mrs Hendred says she had an
appointment with Father Behan...

to discuss
'routine parish business'.

Talk to his parishioners.

Find out who visited him at home,

anybody with a grievance, usual
stuff. What are you going to do?

I'm going back to the Priory.

It's er... 4, 7, 9, 6, 4, 2.

MOTHER JULIAN: I can't pretend
that I liked him as a man.

Still, it's shocking news.

Would you mind telling
me where you've been

for the last, say, five hours?

Where I always am. Here.

I cleaned the bathroom,
talked to you, had lunch,

since then I've been struggling to
get to grips with the accounts.

They used to be Mother Thomas's
province.

How did Mother Thomas and
Father Behan get on?

She had a little more sympathy

with some of his ideas
than the rest of us.

But?

Mother Thomas was an excellent
mimic,

and I'm sorry to say that she rather
excelled at 'doing' Father Behan.

Sister Catherine, I'm afraid I have
some distressing news.

Father Behan
was m*rder*d earlier today.

Was it er... like Mother Thomas?

It appears so, yes. Tell me what
you've been doing all day, please.

I was on kitchen duty this morning,
and there was washing to do.

My parents came, I spent about an
hour with them.

They left just before lunch.

After that I spent some
time in the library,

writing, then came out here.

So you've been alone for much
of the afternoon, then? Yes.

It's beautiful here, isn't it?
Very.

Do the others know that you're the
Vertue heir?

There seemed no reason to tell them.

But if the community doesn't survive,
then you will inherit all this?

That's correct, Mr Barnaby,
but not at all important,

because it will survive. I'll see
to that.

Do your mother and stepfather know?

No. I found out by chance, when
I was doing research for my PhD.

You didn't agree with Father Behan,

that places like this are an
anachronism?

No.

(SPADE DIGGING)

(HYMN SINGING IN CHURCH)

The Bishop of Midsomer's inside.

He's holding a special mass
for Father Behan.

We've got five minutes with him
when he's finished.

Do you need me for that?
It's not as if he's a suspect, is it?

Well, I just thought -
Yeah, all right, Jones.

Any results from finger prints?
Yes. Just Lauren Hendred's.

Hey, what do you call a bishop,
by the way?

Is this another one of your jokes?
No!

Your Excellency.
And remember to genuflect.

What does that mean?

Bishop Graves. I'm sorry we meet in
such circumstances.

Would you like some coffee,
Chief Inspector? And erm...

Detective Sergeant Jones.

No, thank you... sir.

Er... Not for me, no.
I will, if you don't mind.

I shan't ask you if you have any
leads, or anything like that.

I'm sure you'll tell me as soon as there's
anything you think I ought to know.

That's a very refreshing
attitude, sir. Thank you.

Is there any information you would
like from me?

It would be helpful to get some
background on Father Behan.

His family were mostly Irish,
I believe.

I'll be writing to them, of course.

Well, I expect you want to know
if he had any enemies?

Hmm, I'm sure you would tell us if
you knew of any.

But no, I was thinking more: what
sort of person was he?

How good was he at his job?

James Behan wasn't an especially
popular priest,

but um... He wasn't hated.

He was fallible, as we all are.

What were Father Behan's particular
failings?

Between ourselves?

He was a little pompous, not
terribly clever.

Very conscious of the dignity of his
office,

and inclined to meddle in matters he
didn't fully understand.

He meant well.

But the Church doesn't send its best

and its brightest
to Midsomer Malham, alas.

Thank you, sir.
That's erm... illuminating.

And now I have to pay a visit of
condolence to Midsomer Priory.

Would it be very un-Christian of me to hope
that the nuns don't ask me to stay to lunch?

About the Priory, sir.

How many nuns constitute a community

under the terms of the Trust,
do you know?

I think that would be a question for
the lawyers, if it ever came to it.

But I think the Church would argue
that two was sufficient.

Do you think he was
telling the truth about Behan, sir?

Pretty good turn-out, if he really
was that unpopular.

Nah, they were paying their
respects to the dead.

It's probably the most exciting thing to
happen in this parish since the Reformation.

Lauren Hendred was there.

It's a bit of a coincidence, isn't
it?

Our chief suspect's mum finding
the body.

I don't know about chief suspect.
Duncan's our bottle-thrower,

but do you think he's a
double k*ller - an 18-year-old boy?

Well, he's the only lead
we've got so far.

Sarah thinks Duncan's into dr*gs.

Well, there was that joint
at the dell. Oh!

Sarge.

The bloody fool. You go ahead and
charge him, Sergeant.

The shock will do him good.
This is a large amount of cannabis.

I'm afraid we're looking
at a bit more than possession.

What time is Duncan due home?
Er... about half past four.

I'll bring him down to the station
myself.

All right,
I want you there by 5:30.

Bag the lot.

Mum, what you... doing?!

The police have been
to the house again.

They found some stuff in
your room. Duncan.

Does Dad know?

Oh!

He was there. He's promised to take
you to the police station himself.

Darling, what have you done?
Mum, please.

Just get away from here
as fast as you can.

And we'll think about what to do.
What?!

There's cash in here,
and clean clothes.

Mum, its a bit of weed. It's
not like I've m*rder*d anyone.

Where will you go?

Er... I can, I can stay with -
Oh no, don't tell me.

You just go. I'll text you.

Thanks, Mum.

He must have got held up.

You stupid, pathetic woman.

There's good news and bad news, sir.

The good news is, I think we've
traced the silver. Dealer in Oxford.

Well done. And the bad news?

Matthew Hendred says
Duncan didn't come home.

I reckon he's telling the truth,
because he's furious.

Er... Sorry, sir.

I was wondering if Mrs Barnaby

might have some idea
who Duncan's friends are.

Leave it for tonight.
The boy'll turn up.

(CHURCH BELLS RING)

This way, gentlemen?

So... How can I help you, gentlemen?

By telling us how you acquired
the Midsomer Priory chapel silver.

If you don't mind, sir.

(SIGHS)

Good afternoon, Mr Barnaby,
Mr Jones. What is it now?

Thank you, Catherine.

Good news for once, Mother Julian.
We've found your silver.

Where?

A dealer called Peter de Winter

is about to export it to
a private museum in Chicago.

He can be made to return it, surely?

It appears Mr de Winter purchased the
silver in good faith. From a thief.

Not exactly.

It's a receipt,
for the sum of £60,000

signed by Mother Thomas Aquinas.

I... I don't understand.

She had been negotiating
with Mr de Winter

for a while,
before calling the deal off.

Then on Tuesday she called him again
to say it was back on.

And on Wednesday he drove here,

collected the goods, and deposited
a cheque in the convent's account.

That night, Mother Thomas was
m*rder*d.

You believe there's a connection?

Not an obvious one.
Mr de Winter has an alibi,

and in any case,
he acquired the silver quite legally.

That is Mother Thomas's signature?
Oh yes.

Does this news come as a complete
surprise?

I suppose not.

Mother Thomas always did favour the
gas bill over tradition.

It looks as though we'll be able

to buy those new hens
after all, Jerome.

BARNABY: You know
what's bothering me, Jones?

We've got two bodies and
no idea who the k*ller is?

What happened to Duncan's trousers?

The ones Mother Thomas confiscated.

Hm...

You mind if we take a detour, sir?

Why?

I called Tamsin Bickford again.

I asked her if she knew where
Duncan might be hiding out.

His best mate lives in Rydal Avenue.

Next right, if I'm not mistaken.

How...?

Need a lift, Duncan?

You're aware we found 103 grams
of cannabis in your bedroom.

Was it yours?
Yeah. I guess.

Are you also aware
that such a large amount

renders you liable to
a charge of dealing Class B dr*gs?

It was for personal use.

Quite the stoner, aren't you?

We're not really interested in

the dr*gs. That's a uniform matter.

We wanna know about that night
at the Priory. Oh, which night?

Was there more than one?

No!

OK. So me and a few mates decided to
climb the wall, for a laugh.

Maybe some bottles got
chucked. But that was it.

And did you go back alone,
a few nights later?

No! I didn't k*ll anyone, I swear...

no matter what that stupid priest
thought.

Father Behan? What did he think?

I had sin on my conscience.

He wanted me to confess to him.

And did you? No way. He'd have gone
running to you lot, wouldn't he?

He said he'd go to my dad.
Do you think he did?

I'm scared of him. Most people are.

Right. We'll take you down to the
station,

where you'll be charged with
possession.

You might want to think about
calling your parents on the way.

Did you ever get your trousers back?

No. My driving licence
was in the pocket.

I'd only had it like a month.

All sorted.

He's an arrogant little so and so,
isn't he?

Oh, thoroughly unpleasant.
But I don't believe he's our k*ller.

Father Behan thought he was.

Behan was wrong about most things,
according to the Bishop.

What if Behan convinced Matthew
Hendred he was right,

and Hendred k*lled Behan
to protect his son?

Then who really did
k*ll Mother Thomas?

We're forgetting about the silver.

Mother Thomas was k*lled the day she
sold the silver to De Winter.

Is that a coincidence?

Er...

Maybe Sister Catherine found out what
Mother Thomas had done.

Sister Catherine is obsessed by
tradition. Highly strung.

On the other hand, Mother Thomas
selling the chapel silver

was a pretty blatant slap in the face
for Mother Julian, wasn't it?

So you think it's an inside job,
then?

Claustrophobic environment, petty
rivalries getting out of hand?

Not really, no.

When we talked to De Winter, you
asked him

whether he was sure of Mother
Thomas's identity.

What were you driving at?

Every fancy dress shop stocks a
nun's habit, doesn't it?

Anybody could put on the outfit,
walk into a dealer's showroom

and say they want to flog the
convent silver.

I think you're on to
something, Jones.

This case is all about...

clothes, isn't it?

Clothes... and masks.

Mr Barnaby.

I want to see Mother Julian.

You can't disturb her while she's
praying! Mr Barnaby!

Watch me.

Mother Julian.

It's time to confess.

It wasn't Mother Thomas who found Duncan and his
girlfriend in the dell, was it? It was you.

I was just going to embarrass them
and warn them off.

(SCREAM)

Then the young man looked up.

I recognised him, you see.

Or I thought I did.
But, then I realised...

that the man I was thinking of

would be middle-aged by
now, almost as old as me.

The man you knew in Africa?

'You heard about the m*rder up at the
priory, I take it.'

Yeah. I didn't have anything to do
with it. You sure about that? Yes.

Duncan's father, Matthew Hendred,
has a collection

of African tribal masks and spears
on his sitting-room wall.

That first day, you told me you had
been a missionary,

and I wondered where.

But you're only half-right,
Mr Barnaby.

I didn't actually know Matthew
Hendred.

I saw him once.

I wasn't a nun then,
just a volunteer,

running a school in a village.

There was a w*r going on,
but we'd been lucky,

even though we were near the border,
we'd had no trouble

until the day the soldiers came.

Let's go inside.

Let's go. Come on quickly.
Go, go, go.

There were six of them. Two were
white men - mercenaries.

I got the children inside the schoolhouse
and turned to close the door.

(g*nf*re)

(g*nf*re)

(SCREAMS)

(g*nf*re CONTINUES)

(g*nf*re AND SCREAMING)

They k*lled 23 people.

(g*nsh*t)

Eight of my pupils
were left orphaned.

So when you saw Duncan, you thought
he must be the mercenary's son?

But how could you be so sure? You've
just said, you only glimpsed him,

many years ago, when you were
shocked and frightened.

I've never forgotten that face.

So you took Duncan's trousers,
and got lucky.

His driving licence was in the
pocket.

I wouldn't call it luck,
Mr Barnaby. More like God's will.

Yes. I finally had a name for
that monster and an address.

So I went looking.

But obviously you couldn't go in
your habit.

No. And the only mufti I had were
the clothes I wore

when I first came to the Priory
over 30 years ago.

KATY: Good night!
LANDLORD: Good night, love.

MOTHER JULIAN: I don't know
the village at all well,

but it's not a big place.

I found the house in the end.

Beautiful garden, expensive cars
in the driveway...

I've done a bit of research into
Matthew Hendred.

I know that he set up a private
security firm,

specialising in overseas contracts
mainly in sub-Saharan Africa.

And he made a fortune, didn't he?

(DOOR OPENS)

As soon as he came to the door
I knew it was him.

You don't remember me, do you?

I think you must have the wrong
house.

I don't mind who hears what I have
to say, Mr Hendred, but you might.

To begin with, he denied he'd ever
been to Africa.

Then he changed his tune.

You think you can
bring me to justice

for something that you claim
happened 30 years ago,

in a country that doesn't even
exist any more? (LAUGHS)

Or maybe it's my immortal soul
that you're worried about?

A higher power will take care of
that, Mr Hendred.

I'm interested in
earthly restitution. Ha!

You're probably right that I couldn't prove
anything against you in a court of law.

But the court of public opinion
won't be so particular,

neither will your wife or son.
Say one word.

There's a charity I very much
admire, called w*r Wounds.

I'm sure you could easily spare a
million or two

for such a worthwhile cause.

Shall we say two?

You didn't expected him to give in to
a thr*at like that, did you?

A man who by your own account is a
ruthless w*r criminal!

So one nun wearing glasses looks
much like another,

especially in the dark.

How soon did you realise that it was Matthew Hendred
who k*lled Mother Thomas, thinking she was you?

Almost at once. But since I didn't
tell Hendred my name,

I thought he might not find out
his mistake.

People go to prison for blackmail,
you know?

You must do as you see fit about
that, Mr Barnaby.

When I told Father Behan about it in
confession...

without naming names, of course -
he was really quite shocked.

Why did Hendred k*ll him,
do you think?

Father Behan thought Duncan k*lled
Mother Thomas.

I suspect that he
asked Matthew Hendred

to come and talk to him without
saying why.

Hendred assumed that you had told
your priest the truth about Africa,

so Hendred k*lled Father Behan to
protect himself.

What now? Will you arrest him?

It's all circumstantial.
If I bring him in now

and then have to let him go, you will
be in great danger

and you can bet I will have to let
him go,

because he will have
a top-class lawyer.

I'm perfectly willing to take that risk, as long
as you wait until after the ceremony tomorrow.

No. Please, be patient.

It might take a while, but we will
get him in the end.

Is there nothing I can do?

Pray.

(CHURCH ORGAN PLAYS)

Receive this candle.

May the light of Christ guide you
throughout your life

and keep you true to the vows you
have made this day.

Through Christ Our Lord.
Amen. Amen.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Well, I'll see if he's in.
Who is it, please?

It's for you.

It's some woman. Says she's from
Midsomer Priory.

Yes. What do you want?
I want my money, Mr Hendred.

Or rather, w*r Wounds' money.

I don't know who you are,
but this won't work.

I think it will.

You've picked the wrong victim,
Mr Hendred. In more ways than one.

What are you talking about?

I'm hanging up now,
and if you call here again...

Tomorrow morning,
you will go to your bank

and obtain a certified cheque
for £2m made out to w*r Wounds.

Bring it to me in the
Market Cafe in Causton at noon.

I shall remain in full public view

until I have deposited the
cheque in the charity's account.

After that, I'll take my chances.

But before I leave the Priory
in the morning,

I'm going to write a note and place
it in the safe.

It will tell the police

exactly who to look for
if anything happens to me.

Here it is. Go!

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

No! It's lunacy. I won't...

Sykes!

(PHONE RINGS)

(BARNABY ON PHONE)
Come! Now! Come here!

Come where, sir?
Jones, where are you?!

It doesn't matter.

Come and pick me up from Causton
Park, quick as you can.

Sykes!

Mother Julian has
gone out of her mind.

Nunc dimittis servum tuum, domine,
secundum verbum tuum in pace:

ALL: Quia viderunt oculi
mei salutare tuum.

Quod parasti ante faciem
omnium populorum.

ALL: Lumen ad revelationem gentium...

et gloriam plebis tuae Israel.

(HENS CLUCK)

(GASPS)

(COMMOTION)

Matthew Hendred,
I'm arresting you for the murders

of Mother Thomas Aquinas
and Father James Behan.

Take him away and charge him.
OFFICER: On your feet.

Who the hell trained her?

Well done, Mother. Are you all right?

I'm fine.

One for the er... family album.

Grant this mercy, O Lord, we beseech
Thee, to Thy servant departed...

That she may not receive in
punishment,

the requital of her deeds,

who in desire can keep thy will.

And as the true faith here united
her to the company of the faithful,

So may thy mercy, unite her above to
the choirs of angels.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

ALL: Amen.

Catherine Vertue, Catherine
Norrington, Sister Catherine and now?

Mother Athanasius.

This can't have been an easy
time for you to make your Final Vows.

We take what's sent to us,
Mr Barnaby.

Mother Thomas's death was a tragedy,
but the convent will survive.

Do you really think so? How will you
attract fresh blood in today's world?

Sorry, bad choice of words.

As we always have. We'll work and
pray, and have faith.

Who knows? Maybe Sergeant Jones
will find he has a vocation?