06x07 - In the Footsteps of a k*ller

[bunniefuu]

Hello. Can we help you?

My name is Tyler McCarthy.

I have some very important information...

about a m*rder.

OK.

- The m*rder of Julie Matlock.
- Julie Matlock?

Editor of the Saint Marie
Times? That was about...

I know. Eight years ago.

Julie Matlock was m*rder*d and
Nadine Hunter was convicted for it.

But the thing is -- Nadine
didn't do it. She couldn't have.

She was with me that
night, I swear to you.

You got the wrong person.

Dad?

Dad?

Dad!

- Did you call me?
- What are you doing?

Oh, I was just looking for
a hammer and some nails,

and I discovered this
place. Isn't it fantastic?

Yeah, fantastic(!) What are you
going to do with all this stuff?

Well, I'm throwing it out.
There won't be room for it

- if I'm going to get
a bed in here. - A bed?

My back's not made for a hammock.

Ah, Florence. How are you? To
what do we owe this pleasure?

I'm good, sir. Thank you. I hope
I'm not interrupting your holiday.

No, not in the slightest.

The Commissioner asked
me to come and see you.

We were hoping we could maybe borrow you.

- Borrow me? - He was wondering
if you can help with a new case.

Well, it's more of an old case, but...

- I'll explain on the way.
- Hm, OK.

Well, always happy to oblige.

- Suppose I'd better smarten myself up.
- You might need to iron a shirt.

Good point.

Eight years ago, I was on
vacation here with my girlfriend.

It was our last night,
we had a big argument.

Ended with both of us storming
off. The festival was on.

'I just fell into the
nearest bar there was --

'that's where I met Nadine.'

Happy Saint Ursula's day.

Neither of us were in a
great place. Both drunk.

One thing led to another...

You spent the night together?

Yeah.

When I woke up the next morning,
she had left. I never saw her again.

And at the time, you weren't aware
of the coverage of the m*rder?

You hadn't read the
newspapers or seen the news?

I had no idea Nadine
was arrested for m*rder.

And how did you find out now?

My marriage recently ended.

Sorry. Same girl from this...?

I know. Writing was on the wall.

These last few months...

I keep thinking about that
night here on the island.

About Nadine. I knew it
was festival time again,

so I came down here to
see if I could find her.

And that's when you found
out what had happened?

She d*ed in prison --

pneumonia --

two years into her sentence.

She didn't deserve that, any of it.

She was innocent.

So, what do you think,
sir? It sounds plausible.

No reason to make it up,
as far as I can tell.

- Nothing to gain from it.
- I checked earlier with immigration

and he was on the island eight
years ago, like he says.

He also fits the description
Nadine Hunter gave of the man

she claimed she spent the night with.

So what do we do now?

I don't think there's a choice, Florence.

You -- or should I say
we -- reopen the case.

So, this is Nadine Hunter.

And this is Julie Matlock -- the
woman she was accused of k*lling.

We never found her body.

- You remember the case, Dwayne?
- Oh, yes.

It was when DI Charlie Hulme was here.

Julie Matlock was editor
of the Saint Marie Times

and quite a respected
figure on the island.

And what was her relationship
to Nadine Hunter?

Nadine worked under Julie at the
paper, she was a photographer,

- but there were definite tensions
between them. - Oh, in what way?

Well, you see, Miss Hunter
was a little bit unstable.

Dependent on alcohol and anti-depressants.

- Not a great mix at
the best of times. - Mm.

Well, the night before the m*rder,
they had a very public falling out.

Julie had suspended Nadine
from her job until she agreed

to accept professional help.

- And that's why she was suspected
of k*lling Julie Matlock? - Mm-hm.

Plus... Miss Hunter was
a registered g*n owner.

When we searched her flat, there
was no sign of the w*apon.

And-and her car was missing, too.

We fished that out of the
bay the following day.

We found the g*n in the
boot, along with this --

Julie Matlock's bloodied scarf.

Now, the court didn't have
a body but they had means,

motive and, because she couldn't
prove her alibi, opportunity.

What's this?

That's one of the reasons I
can still remember the case.

- It's creepy. We actually had
the m*rder on tape. - Really?

On the night it happened,

Julie Matlock was working
late at the newspaper offices.

At 8:15pm, she phoned her daughter
from her mobile and started leaving

an answer-phone message.
That's when she got sh*t.

'Hi, Gracey.

'Look, I know I said we should do
dinner but guess what? I'm still

'at the office, I'm probably
going to be here another...'

Good Lord.

The newspaper office, where it
happened, is it still there?

Oh, yes.

So, all the staff are waiting downstairs,

if you need to talk to any of them.

Great. Talk me through it.

What exactly happened here on the
night of June the 22nd, 2009?

On the afternoon of the m*rder,

Julie Matlock's colleagues
left at around 4:30.

We've had a hell of a day. You all go.

I'll stay here and finish up.

So there was no-one else
here, apart from Julie,

until whoever did it turned up at
some point and sh*t her at 8:15pm.

So, where was she when it happened?

According to the files, forensics
found significant traces of bleach

on and around her desk and chair,

suggesting it was cleaned
after the m*rder.

Yes, and, erm, Julie's desk
was that one over there.

She was sitting here, working away,

doing whatever editors do, when
she decided to phone her daughter

and say she wasn't going
to make it to dinner.

Any evidence to suggest
where the g*n was fired from?

Not that I can find. No
traces of g*nsh*t residue.

And without the body, it's...

We don't know where the
fatal b*llet entered. Yeah.

Could you just excuse me one moment?

What's he doing?

That's interesting.

You think you know where
the g*n was fired from?

Oh, haven't a clue, Florence.

I'd say it's about 100%
impossible to tell. JP...

those crime scene reports,

any mention of how the k*ller moved
the victim after she'd been sh*t?

Yes, sir.

There was a fire door downstairs
found open on the night.

Leads onto the car park.

It was assumed that the k*ller used
the lift to get the body down there.

So, whoever did it was familiar
with the layout of the building.

And they'd have needed a key to
get in. Security had locked up

for the night, leaving Mrs
Matlock alone in the building.

Yes, sir, the initial investigation
concluded that it must have been

one of the other employees
here at the newspaper.

So, who else had a key to the building?

Well, apart from the security,

only the other members of
the senior editorial team.

And who exactly were they?

Julie's husband, Ian Matlock,

her daughter, Grace,

and journalists Tony Garrett

and Kai Johnson.

It's the same team still working here.

There's just one thing.

Part of the reason the original
investigation focused in on

Nadine Hunter was because she was
the only one who couldn't prove

where she was on the night of the m*rder,

whereas these four all
had rock solid alibis.

Of course they did. It's typical.

Look, I know this is very
upsetting for you all.

It's just... Well, this
witness has come forward

and we're duty bound to look into things.

So, if we could just have a little chat,

I'm sure we can clear
everything up once and for all.

Right. Day of the m*rder. According
to the original statements,

you all left here at 4:30pm,

leaving Julie to finish up on her own.

She more or less threw us out
after Nadine Hunter turned up.

Nadine?

I'm here for my stuff.

- We can send your things on...
- Don't you touch me!

We're not finished!

She's totally lost it.

The evening before,

you were dining at the...

at The Blue Orchid.

She showed up, she was out of her head.

I know what you're doing!
You'll pay for this!

Let me go!

And she was so angry because Julie
had suspended her from her job,

- is that correct? - No, it's because
she had a screw loose. - Gracey.

She was... a damaged soul.

Dad, how can you still stick up for her?

Does anyone have any idea why
she was so down in the dumps

or, you know, so fond of the old drink?

Wasn't there something about

a guy who broke her heart years
ago or something? At college?

Who cares?

Mum was a good friend to her.

She was an ungrateful bitch.

I think Nadine thought Julie
wanted to get rid of her,

whereas the fact is...

She just wanted her to
get professional help --

that's why she suspended her.

Let's be honest -- none of us
could work with her any more.

So, next evening, night of the m*rder.

Miss Matlock, your mother
phoned and left that message.

I take it you were out that evening.

No, I was there but I was in the shower.

I was at the house, too. Heard the
phone ring, let it go to voice-mail.

Grace played it when
she came out the shower.

'Hi, Gracey. Look, I know I said
we should do dinner but guess what?

'I'm still at the office.

'I'm probably going to be here another...'

'I phoned dad straight away.'

Dad?! Dad!

'I was up at our beach house.

'I phoned you lot straight
away and got into the car.'

And this beach house, is it nearby?

- About 40 minutes by car.
- Oh.

OK. Well, that's very clear.

So, night of the m*rder, Grace and Kai,

- you were together at home and, Ian,
you were at the beach house? - Yes.

Mr Garrett, Tony, where were you
that evening at about 8:15pm?

It was festival night.

I was in Denny's bar,
along with half of Honore.

Read the statements! That woman came
into the office and threatened Mum!

"We're not finished" -- that's what
she said, straight to her face.

Remember?

Whoever this man is and whatever he says,

Nadine Hunter k*lled my mother.

OK, well, thank you all.

Ah, JP, could you get your
hands on some hi-fi equipment?

The best you can find -- external
speakers, the whole works.

Let's see if there's any
more background noises

on that voice message, you know,
the k*ller entering the room,

footsteps, that sort of thing.

Yeah, OK. Erm, my cousin's a DJ,
I'm sure he'll have something.

Brilliant, thanks!

- Commissioner.
- Commissioner.

- Inspector, you answered the call
to arms, I see. - Ah, yes, sir.

If for no other reason than to get
out from under my daughter's feet.

Well, whatever the reason,
I'm glad you're here.

This is rather a delicate matter.

Yes, I suppose it is a bit.

You think there's any substance
to what this man says?

Well, I think we should
proceed as though there is...

until we manage to talk
ourselves out of it.

You seem worried, Commissioner.

- I reckon I would be, too, if I
was in your shoes. - I'm sorry?

Erm, well, no, just if the
verdict proved to be unsafe, well,

wouldn't reflect brilliantly on
your department now, would it?

But I've had a brief look through
the case files and, from what

I've seen, Charlie Hulme was a
good detective, very thorough.

So if a mistake was made,
then I'm sure it wasn't due to

negligence or lack of effort.

Keep me in the loop, Inspector.

Absolutely.

- Pep talk?
- Something like that.

'.. but guess what? I'm
still at the office.

'I'm probably going to be here another...'

Something there, isn't
there? In the background?

'.. but guess what? I'm
still at the office.

'I'm probably going to be here another...'

Yes, it's like, erm, a rumble.

JP, do you think you
could isolate that sound?

- Oh, er, I could call my cousin,
he might be able to. - Excellent!

You got something there, Dwayne?

Well, Nadine Hunter didn't
have any next of kin,

so the prison authorities sent over

all her possessions to us when she d*ed.

Clothes.

Leonard Cohen CD.

Copy of Wuthering Heights.

What's this?

- Lock of hair?
- Mm-hm.

- Did she have children?
- No.

Maybe it belongs to her
college sweetheart?

It's a bit weird, isn't it? Keeping
a lock of your boyfriend's hair?

Mmm. I suppose. Although,
an auntie of mine,

she had her heart broken
by the local chiropodist.

To this day, she's holding on to a
pair of his socks he left behind,

like there's a chance
he'll come back for them.

Maybe Nadine was just a hopeless romantic.

Maybe.

OK. Why don't we go
over what we know so far

about the victim and our suspects?

Julie Matlock, 47, met husband
Ian at Manchester University,

where they edited the student paper.

They settled in Saint Marie 18
years ago. Seemed a happy couple.

They were close to finishing
a beach house on the coast

when Mrs Matlock was m*rder*d. They
were building the house themselves.

Kai Johnson, 35.

Oh, we looked at him very closely.
He had a record as long as your arm.

as*ault. Demanding money
with menaces. Drug dealing.

They put him in a youth
rehabilitation programme

and got him an apprenticeship
at the newspaper.

Looks like he turned his life around

and bagged the boss' daughter.

Grace Matlock, 30. Their only child.

Not the high achiever her mum
was, struggled at school,

didn't go to university.

Only ever worked for her
parents as a copy editor.

So, husband, daughter and her
boyfriend. This guy, Tony Garret.

Well, he's been at the paper for years,

way before the Matlock's
even took it over.

Right. And what sort of a man is he?

Likes a party, but a decent enough guy.

Then there's the original
prime suspect, Nadine Hunter,

who now, out of the blue, has an
alibi for the night of the m*rder.

Well, look, I don't think we're
going to achieve much more tonight.

Why don't we call it a day?

- Gets my vote.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

You are aware of the visiting
Inspector rule, right?

Er, not sure that I am Dwayne, no.

It's an old Saint Marie tradition.

You see, when an Inspector
visits from another region,

he takes us all to the nearest
bar and buys us a drink.

- That wouldn't be a rule you've just
made up yourself now, would it? - No.

I might've made it up a little,

but Catherine's bar at
the end of a hard day

is a bit of a tradition.

A very civilised
tradition, if I may say so.

And here's the lady herself.

Catherine, meet Inspector
Jack Mooney from the UK.

- Lovely to meet you.
- Jack. Welcome to Saint Marie.

- Are you visiting the island?
- Well, I thought I was.

He's helping us out.

Oh, and... Catherine is set
to become our next mayor.

Well, there's the little
matter of the election first.

I'll get your drinks.

- So, this festival I keep hearing about.
- Hm. Saint Ursula's Day.

Which Saint Ursula is it? There's
at least two that I know of.

There was one who was
martyred by the Huns.

The poor girl, she got it
in the neck -- literally.

And then there's Saint
Ursula Micaela Morata --

- she actually had the gift
of bilocation. - Bilocation?

Yeah, the ability to be in two
places at once. So which one is it?

The one where you drink a lot of
rum and party wildly in the street.

Ah, I like her the best.

Thought I'd find you in the nearest bar.

Ah, Siobhan, come and join us.

Catherine, this is my daughter Siobhan.

Welcome! Shall I get another beer?

Well, one won't hurt, I suppose.

Oh! The slippery slope!

This is how it all starts.

One! One only.

Cheers, sir.

Oh, thank you.

You know what we need?

More willpower?

A grown-up.

Wouldn't hurt.

Remember when you were little? You
were so fascinated by the stars

- you wouldn't let me close your
bedroom curtains. - I remember.

And on cloudy nights I used to
tell you there were no stars

because the batteries had run out.

Backfired a bit on me there! You
took the battery out of every toy

you owned and had them
ready for me at bedtime...

.. to turn the stars back on.

And you said that they were
the wrong size batteries.

So I did.

- Sorry about that.
- It's OK.

Mum got me the glow in the dark
ones to stick on the window.

Ah.

Just like your mum,
tidying up after my mess.

I really miss her.

I know you do, love.

Me, too.

Thanks a million. You're a star. Goodbye.

What's going on?

I bought a bed. Have a look.

- When did you organise that?
- Last night at the bar.

I mentioned it to Dwayne, who
said he knew a man who knew a man

whose auntie might be able
to help. And what do you know?

Now all I need is a pillow and
some sheets and I'm right as rain.

Er, mattress?

Oh, yeah, a mattress.

I might have to have
another word with Dwayne.

She left the offices there...
hmm... went to Port Royal.

When did she go, when did she
go to Port Royal? Hmm. Oh...

Who's he talking to?

Why did she, why did she do that?

OK, then she stayed...

Sir? You OK?

Me? Great. Couldn't be better.

What about yourself, Florence?
Getting anywhere with Julie's diary?

Only this. She scribbled something
on the page before her last day --

it's a five-digit number.

"1-9-8-7-1".

It's hardly a phone
number, not enough digits.

It's not a pin number, either.

I'll see if I can find something
else it could relate to.

- Sir?
- Yes, JP?

There's something here in Julie's
inbox. It's a resignation e-mail

from Tony Garret sent two days
before Julie was k*lled. It reads --

"Dear Julie, while I still stand
by the articles, I regret that

"in certain respects my
behaviour may have fallen

"short of your expectations.

"I therefore have no option
but to tender my resignation.

"Yours, Tony Garret."

The classic non-apology apology.
I wonder what that's all about?

I'll keep going back.

Let me see if I can find out
what these articles were about.

Might be worth paying a visit to
the paper. Check the archives.

Dwayne, how you getting
on with financial checks?

The original investigation only
focused on the victim's finances --

oh, and Nadine Hunter's --

- so I started to look into the
other four suspects. - And?

And Ian Matlock's credit card statements

make for interesting reading.

In the two months before
Julie's death, there's two --

no, three -- payments to
somewhere called Cupid's Arrow.

Cupid's Arrow?

Yes, that's a high-end lingerie
shop on the other side of the island.

So I hear.

Then we have afternoon
champagne at the Bay Cove Hotel

and a payment to the florists
every day for a month.

- Spoiling his wife, eh?
- What? Those kind of places

aren't usually where men
go to shop for their wives!

Present company excepted.

And what about the afternoon champagne?

Julie Matlock was a workaholic.

If you ask me, it wasn't his wife.

- Wasn't there an insurance payout?
- Half a million

and the husband was the beneficiary.

Florence, looks like you and I
need to pay Ian Matlock a visit.

Sorry about the weather, sir.

Reminds me of home.

Ooh, this is some house
they built for themselves.

So, you need clarification on something?

Yes, Ian, that's exactly what we
need -- a bit of clarification.

Now, what was it needed clarifying?

Ah, yes. Here it is.

Can you tell us what you were
doing at the Bay Cove hotel

on May 18th and again
on the 3rd of June 2009,

shortly before your wife was m*rder*d?

There's lots of other dates, but
we'll start with those two for now.

Er, the...

The Bay Cove Hotel?

Yeah.

Would you like the dates again?

I suspect you know damn
well what I was doing.

I have no way of knowing what
you were doing, Mr Matlock.

Locking yourself away in a
hotel room with champagne

and sexy lingerie all afternoon
could mean lots of different things.

I'm sorry. It's not exactly a
chapter of my life I'm proud of.

You were having an affair?

Even the most perfect of
marriages get into a rut.

Although, if I'm honest, it
wasn't my marriage in a rut,

- it was me. A mid-life crisis.
- Hmm.

- Can I ask, who was it you were seeing?
- She was a travel rep,

only on the island for
a few weeks at a time,

and Julie was away on work a lot and...

.. I was vain and stupid and I
wanted to feel like the big man.

- And did your wife ever find out?
- No. God, she'd have k*lled me.

It was a few months that summer.
I came to my senses and ended it.

It had nothing to do with
my wife's death, I swear.

You know, I was still at college in 2009.

Me, I was getting my heart broken.

You? Getting your heart broken?

You better believe it! Big time.

Monica Cannon. Gorgeous girl.

Kind, sweet, looked like a model.

- So what happened?
- I broke it off.

Why?

It was nothing.

I can't even remember.

OK, there was a slight height issue.

She was taller than me, a lot taller!

You dumped her just for that?!

There were people looking and laughing!

Ah!

Here we go, look --

"Tony Garret Investigates."

"Allegations Rock Calder
Hill Private School".

What's the date on that?

May 4th, 2009.

May 4th, 2009.

It carries on the following week.

You know, I remember this, JP. One
of the teachers was fooling around

- with some of his older students.
- What do you reckon, Dwayne?

You think this could be the article
that Tony Garret was talking about

- in his resignation letter?
- It could be, you know!

I think I'll call the Inspector.

Caught with a rum and
coconut water at 5:00pm.

Guilty as charged!

But then, if every police
officer looked like you...

I wouldn't mind being arrested.

Unfortunately, Tony, most
police officers look like me.

To what do I owe the honour?

- Calder Hill.
- The school?

That's the one. And Josh Kingsley.

Oh, yes -- Kingsley -- the
handsome English teacher and his

extra-curricular activities.

Quite a series of articles.

Were you sure those girls
were telling you the truth?

The truth has many faces.

I still had to investigate.

Ah, we read them, the
articles, they were excellent.

But not an awful lot of evidence.
One statement later retracted.

I talked to a lot of people,

that guy was crossing the line.

- So you didn't get it wrong?
- No, I didn't.

Hm. Well, why then did you
offer to resign over it?

Julie accused me of
embellishing the truth.

.. because you're lazy. Lazy and
self-satisfied. And you lied to me.

It's over for you, Tony.

After all we'd been through,
she should have stuck by me.

- Must have stung a bit, though.
- Yes, it did.

And, two days later, Julie is dead
and your resignation withdrawn.

- You think I k*lled her?
- Well, you couldn't have.

If I remember rightly, you
were in the bar all night.

Yes, I was. I could find a
dozen witnesses in an hour.

Oh, there's no need for
that, Tony, no need at all.

No, we're just tidying
things up here a bit,

keep the powers that be happy.

Whatever the rights and
wrongs of that investigation,

Nadine Hunter k*lled Julie.

End of story.

OK!

Rum and coconut water. May I?

Sure.

Never came across that before.

You should try it.

Not on duty! Thank you.

Ian Matlock, Tony Garret
-- both had motives.

Yes, but Tony Garret had a bar
full of witnesses who all said

he was there at 8:15 -- the
same time Julie Matlock got sh*t.

Well, the same goes for Ian Matlock.

There's records of a call
made from Grace's home phone

and answered on Ian's landline
at the beach house at 8:16 pm.

Well, the beach house
was a 40-minute drive

from the newspaper office
where Julie was sh*t.

Neither Ian or Tony were anywhere
near the scene of the crime

- when it happened.
- None of them were.

But if Nadine Hunter's innocent,

it must be one of them, it simply must be.

Er, sir, that's my cousin Eddie,

he's found a bit of kit to
isolate the sound on that CD.

- I'll head over there now.
- Great.

Oh, you found her! Good man!

What you doin' sneaking up on me, man?

Found who?

Oh, Dwayne's reconnecting
with an old flame.

- He had a bit of a thing with her in 2009.
- Hmm. What happened?

They didn't see eye to eye.

You think you're funny?

Hello?

Ah, Mr McCarthy. How are you? Come in.

I was just wondering if
there'd been any developments.

Only, I'm leaving in a day.

We're progressing.

So you haven't found anything, then?

Well, there's an awful
lot to get through --

forensic reports, statements,
physical evidence.

- The fact that it all happened
eight years ago doesn't help. - No.

Must've been quite a night --

to bring you back here
after all these years.

It was. I've never met anyone
like her before or since.

I don't know what I'm doing.

My marriage falls apart and the
first thing I do is hop on a plane,

chasing some one night
stand from years ago.

My father always told me

you never really know what you're
looking for until you find it.

5,000 miles is a long way to go

if you don't know what you're looking for.

Well, look, if we manage to prove
Nadine's innocence and arrest

whoever did commit that m*rder,

well, then I'd say your
trip hasn't been wasted.

- Goodnight, Inspector.
- Goodnight.

So, whoever did this let
themselves into the building

and then sh*t Julie while
she was on the phone

leaving a message for her daughter.

We know they then removed
all signs of the k*lling,

cleaned up the crime scene
and disposed of the body.

Where that body is is
something we don't know.

We also know that Nadine Hunter's
car was pushed into the sea

and, when it was recovered,
all that we could find

was the potential m*rder w*apon
and the victim's bloodied scarf,

which would indicate that whoever
did this was trying to frame

Nadine Hunter for the m*rder.

Ahh!

Which begs the question, why her?

Why k*ll Julie Matlock and
then frame Nadine for it?

Maybe, somehow, they knew Nadine
would struggle to prove her alibi?

Maybe.

But now that's no longer the case,
the playing field has been levelled,

leaving us with four people,
all of whom might have done it.

But they can all prove they
were somewhere else at the time

that Julie was k*lled.

Sir? We've isolated the noise from the CD.

And? Did you find anything?

Well, listen.

What is that?

Personally, I think it sounds
like something mechanical.

Or someone tapping?

- No, no, no, no, no, --
it's a horse! - A horse?

Yes. On the beach -- in the distance.

You can't hear it?

Listen!

And that's as loud as
your cousin can get it?

- He can't bring it out any more?
- I'm afraid not, sir.

OK. Thanks, JP.

This timeline. Port Royal, that's
a place on the island, right?

- Yes. It's small harbour town
on the northern coast. - Yeah.

And we know that Julie Matlock
was there for a short time

- the day she was m*rder*d.
- That's right.

A taxi driver gave a statement
that he took Julie to Port Royal,

she asked him to wait for her,
he said it was about 15 minutes,

then he drove her back to her office.

- Did we ever establish what
she was doing there? - No.

OK.

Look, I know it's a long time ago,

but it's about the only thing
we haven't double-checked.

Why don't we go there and we'll
talk to whoever we can find, OK?

Right. Before we pull the plug.

- Hello! Hi, how are you?
- Bonjour.

- Have you seen this woman before? - No.

I really don't know anything about it.

- Come on.
- Thank you. Have a good day.

Let's go.

- Sir?
- Anything?

Nothing. There's still
a couple of warehouses

and a safety deposit box
place we haven't been to yet.

Safety deposit box?

1-9-8-7-1 -- the five-digit code.

It's this way, sir.

He didn't recognise Julie
Matlock's photograph,

but he's checked his files and the
box was registered in her name.

1-9-8-7-1.

Bingo.

Pictures...

and a comp slip.

"Maxwell Private Detectives".

This is Kai, her daughter's boyfriend.

And who are these clowns
he's hanging out with?

She had me followed?

She didn't believe that you
were a reformed character.

- She was looking for proof --
looks like she found it. - Yeah.

Wouldn't look good to Grace if she
knew you were still hanging around

- with those fellas.
- What's your point?

Our point is, Kai, if you knew about this,

you had a powerful motive to k*ll Julie.

Of course I knew Julie was
trying to get rid of me --

she begged Grace to dump
me, she was desperate.

She even tried to pay me off.

That was the real Julie.

She may have banged on about
getting people out of the gutter,

until a piece of gutter trash
got anywhere near her or Grace.

Did you tell Grace that
Julie tried to buy you off?

Yes, and she was furious.

The night she d*ed,

Grace was supposed to have dinner
with her mum, sort things out.

- But you're saying you didn't
know you were being followed? - No.

You were dealing, though?

One time. That was it.

I was up to my neck in debt
and I did what I had to.

One deal to get away from it for good.

And you definitely didn't
know about these pictures?

Of course I didn't!

Wait! You actually think I k*lled her?

I love Grace. You really
think I'd k*ll her mother?

'Honore Police.'

Dwayne, how are ya? Were Kai's
fingerprints on those photographs?

No, not Kai's. We found
Julie's, as expected.

- But there was another set of
prints on there. - Belonging to who?

Grace Matlock.

When did you first see them?

Your fingerprints are all over them.

She showed them to me
the day before she d*ed.

I couldn't believe she
did something like that.

But, then again,

she was like a dog with a
bone when she wanted something.

All my life she tried
to force me into things,

tell me what to do, make decisions for me.

I'd had enough.

I'm telling you, Gracey, he'll
never change. He's trouble.

Told her I didn't care. She could
do what she wanted with them.

But she knew that if she
gave them to the police,

got him into trouble,
she'd lose me forever.

- Never speak to her again.
- Did you tell Kai that Julie had these?

No. Why would I?

You think I want to admit my own
mother would do something like this?

- Well, didn't you want to warn him?
- I didn't need a photo to do that.

Let's just say I made it clear
that if I ever caught him dealing

I'd leave him. I knew that
if he loved me he'd stop.

And it paid off. Look at us now.

We make each other happy,
we're about to have a baby.

Mum may have had these photos, but
she couldn't do anything with them.

She knew it.

Why are you so cheerful?

Am I?

You got in touch with
Monica Cannon, haven't you?

Of course. I messaged her, she got back.

That's great news, Dwayne, man!

So when are you going to meet her?

Who said I was?

Tonight at the festival.

You alright, sir?

Yes. I'm fine, thank you, Florence.

Yeah.

But maybe we should just
go over it one last time.

A woman was sh*t dead in her office.

Her body was never found.

There are five suspects --

one of them was wrongly convicted
of her m*rder -- which leaves four.

What do we know about these four people?

- They all had motives.
- Exactly.

- They all had access. - Exactly.
- They all had alibis. - Exactly.

What's that music?

- That's the festival, you know,
Saint Ursula's. - Oh, yeah.

They sound like they're having
a lot more fun than we are.

Maybe we should call it a day.
We're not getting anywhere here

- and... you are still on
holiday, remember? - You're right.

Maybe a bit of breathing space
would do us the world of good.

- Welcome to Saint Marie, sir!
- Yes.

- And Happy Saint Ursula's
Day to you both. - Thank you.

Ay-ay-ay!

Wow!

Smells like an aftershave factory.

You think it's too much?

- No.
- No.

Oh, good!

There she is. I'm going in!

Wish me luck.

I thought you said this
woman was taller than Dwayne.

That's what he said.

Then who's that?

It's a long time since they last met.

Maybe Monica's shrunk a little bit.

What happened with Monica?

I can't believe I mixed them up!

Monica Ridley is the model,
the one taller than me.

And the other one is Monica Cannon,
whose father was in the circus.

- Circus?!
- It's a long story.

Or a short one!

I wonder what Saint Ursula
would have made of all this.

- What?
- Saint Ursula!

No, thanks, sir -- I ate earlier!

You enjoying yourself, Dad?

- Yeah!
- Good!

- They could turn the music
down a bit, though. - What?

- The music -- it's very loud.
- Very what?!

Loud!

Loud! It's very...

'.. probably going to be here another...'

Good Lord!

Something there, isn't
there, in the background?

Forensics found significant
traces of bleach

on and around her desk and chair.

A lock of hair?

What is it? Are you OK, Dad?

That's it! I've got it!

- Got what?
- Thank you, Saint Ursula!

JP, we need to run a DNA test.

- Dwayne! - Huh? - We need something
called a structural imaging radar.

- Fire service might have one.
- But it's almost midnight!

We'll wake up whoever we need
to. This has to be done tonight.

- Ooh, Siobhan...
- It's fine, Dad. Go.

- You OK, sir?
- Yeah.

Oh, good(!) The Commissioner's here.

Question -- how many saints are
there in the Catholic Church?

- Go on, have a guess.
- A thousand?

10,221 -- at the last count.

There's so many of them it's
hard to tell who's who any more.

Take yesterday -- Saint
Ursula's Day. But which Ursula?

There's at least two that I know about --

the one who was martyred by the Hun

and the other one who had
the gift of bilocation.

Sorry, but have we come
here for a theology lesson?

No, sorry, Tony, not at all.

We're here because the k*ller
of Julie Matlock also had

the gift of bilocation.

They were in two places at once.

See, there are two victims in this case.

There's Julie Matlock, demanding editor,

fiercely-protective
mother, domineering wife.

And there was also Nadine Hunter,
charismatic but haunted woman,

born under an unlucky star.

Depression, alcoholism, a college
sweetheart buried in the past.

And then, to cap it all off,

she's convicted for a
m*rder she did not commit.

- Did not?
- No.

I believe that Nadine Hunter
is innocent of the crime.

But what do we know about the
real k*ller, whoever that might be?

What do we know about them?

Well, for a start, they had
a key to this building.

And they also knew that
Julie was working late

the evening she disappeared.

In other words -- it had to be one of you.

- Come on.
- For God's sake.

No, no, despite the protestations,
you all had motives.

But -- and here's the thing --
all of you can prove beyond doubt

that you were not in
this building at 8:15pm

on Thursday the 22nd of June, 2009 --

- Saint Ursula's Day.
- Exactly. So why are we here, then?

We're here because I want
to play you something.

This is the background noise
on the message that Julie left

on Grace's answer-phone.

If you could just listen for a moment.

Hmm. Sounds like a metronome.

Or someone tapping.

Now, just leaving aside what you
do hear. What don't you hear?

What you don't hear is music and singing

and thousands of people out in the
streets celebrating Saint Ursula.

The carnival passes right
along this street here.

It's so loud my ears are still
ringing from last night,

yet there are no carnival sounds here.

See? The grill was open,

but not a peep.

I'm sorry, you've lost me now.

My apologies, Ian. I'll
try and get to the point.

It's true that none of you were
here on that fateful evening.

- But then here's the thing --
neither was Julie. - But she was.

Well, this is what I couldn't quite get.

Our k*ller, who was under such
extraordinary time pressure,

decided to clean up after
themselves, lugging a dead weight

down the corridor and into the lift,

and then waiting for an opportune
moment to drag the body outside

and put it in the boot of a car.

Why would they do that?

I was thinking about this for ages.

It wasn't until I realised
what it was you COULDN'T hear

on the background noises
-- the carnival --

and then it suddenly twigged.

It was like bingo!

The k*ller wanted us to think
that Julie was k*lled here,

- but she wasn't.
- But why would someone do that?

Well, to give themselves an alibi.

It was a stroke of genius.

Hold on. On the answer-phone message,

Mum says she's in the office.

That's another example
of the k*ller's genius.

We're dealing with a very
creative individual here.

But, unfortunately for them, they
made one tiny little mistake.

That sound on the answer-phone
message gives them away.

Trust me, we spent an awful lot
of time trying to figure out

what that was. Ho, ho, ho, yeah.

We went through the
whole sh**t and shebang,

rumbles and mechanical sounds --
a horse even made an appearance.

It rang a distant bell with me
but I couldn't quite place it.

My dad was very good with his hands.

When I was about ten, he built
an extension onto our house.

My granny had come to live with us
and my sister, she couldn't carry on

sleeping on the couch
forever now, could she?

Anyway, to cut a long story short,

I used to help him out at the weekends

and I remember shovelling
cement into a mixer.

And that's what that sound
is -- a cement mixer.

Now, where would Julie be
anywhere near a cement mixer?

They were close to finishing
a beach house on the coast

when Mrs Matlock was m*rder*d.

At the beach house...

.. the one you'd been building yourselves,

- which is where you sh*t her.
- No.

The exact movements of yourself
and Julie on that evening

will only ever be known by you.

But one thing's for sure,
when Julie was done at work,

you picked her up from the office.

But not before you manufactured
some excuse to slip back in here

and wipe down that desk with bleach --

to make it appear as if somebody
had cleaned up after a m*rder.

In the absence of the
police finding a body,

well, this was the next best thing.

You then drove back to the beach house...

where you persuaded Julie to
cancel her dinner date with Grace.

I imagine it was something
along the lines of,

"Give her more space," or, you know,

"The more you push her the
more you'll drive her away,"

that sort of thing. You then
tell Julie to phone Grace

and say that she was
working late at the office.

Just tell her you're still at work.

So Julie picks up the phone

and you wait while she tells Grace
this lie about where she is.

Hi, Gracey. Look, I know I said we
should do dinner but guess what?

I'm still at the office, probably
going to be here another...

This is just mad.

Dad?!

This makes no sense.

Why would I do any of this?

Well, you told us yourself

that your marriage had
got into a bit of a rut.

Although, if I'm honest, it wasn't
my marriage in a rut, it was me.

The fact that you were having an affair,

it makes me think it was more than that.

You were unhappy, an unhappy man,

fed up with your marriage to Julie,

and that's why you strayed.

But this summer fling you had,

it wasn't with some travel rep
whose name you can't recall.

No.

It was Nadine Hunter.

But for Nadine, it wasn't just a fling.

She was head over heels in love with you.

And for a woman like Nadine, love
is all-consuming, intense, extreme.

She kept this lock of
hair in her prison cell.

It was one of the few things she had.

We were wondering whether she had a child,

or was it her college sweetheart's?

And then the penny dropped
and we ran a DNA test.

It's yours, Ian. This is your hair.

But of course you didn't feel
the same way about Nadine.

She was erratic and unstable --
more so now that she was in love.

So when she stormed into the restaurant

that you and Julie were at...

I know what you're doing!
You'll pay for this.

.. you ushered her out of
there, out of the restaurant.

She's emotional, she's
in no fit state to drive.

And that's probably when you
got a hold of the car keys.

You get her into a cab.

It's unsettling, but maybe
you're thinking she'll calm down,

she might sober up and realise
it's all over between you.

But she came to the office the next day.

We're not finished!

See, everybody thought
she was talking to Julie,

but it was you she was speaking to.

You knew you had to do something.

If the truth about you
and Nadine came out...

well, that was it.

Julie was not a woman to cross.

You'd literally be left with nothing --

no house, no fancy motorbike.

You had to think quickly.

You knew where Nadine's car was.

You also knew she kept a g*n in her car.

So, after the m*rder...

you place the w*apon

and Julie's bloodied scarf

in Nadine's car

before pushing it into the sea.

You saw your problem with
Nadine as an opportunity,

an opportunity to bring to
an end your unhappy marriage

and also to get rid of the
mistress you'd lost interest in...

.. leaving you to continue
living in the manner

to which you'd grown accustomed.

All you had to do was get rid
of the two women in your life,

Julie and Nadine.

k*ll one and frame the other.

Everything you've just
said is based on conjecture

and circumstantial evidence.

Ah... no.

Not strictly true.

These are scans that we just ran

of the foundations of
your house and grounds.

And underneath the veranda
of the house you and she built

lies the body of Julie Matlock.

Quite literally concrete proof.

Say it's not true.

Dad!

Dwayne, JP, can you please do the honours?

Good work, Inspector.

Well done, sir. You did it.

We did it.

So... whatever happened
to, er, Monica Ridley?

Who, her? I looked her up.

- Married with four kids.
- Oh!

Ah, well. Well, maybe she
named one of them Dwayne.

You're not funny, you know.

Maybe she just wasn't the one!

I'll get over it.

That didn't take long.

Hmm. You better believe it.

Ah!

- So, you solved your first case
on Saint Marie. - Good evening.

Look who I found on the way
-- a charming young lady.

I hear you solved the
case. Well done, Dad.

Ah, no, no. Very much a team effort.

Congratulations, Inspector Mooney.

Very tenacious work.

Yeah, well, I can be quite
tenacious, if I may say so.

You have to be when you're a parent.

Creeping in from the festival
at four o'clock this morning.

- She thinks I don't know.
- You were asleep.

So you see, Commissioner, tenacity
-- minimum requirement in our house.

You called it "our house" -- the shack.

It's a figure of speech.

You will be staying a little
longer though, won't you?

Why is everyone looking at me?

Drinks for everyone!

About time!

Cheers. To an amazing team. Well done.

I hope I can count on your vote today.

Who else would I vote for, huh?

Mayoral candidate Victor Pearce

was casting his vote when one
of these suspects managed to

stick a Kn*fe in his back.

That only leaves one
person -- Catherine Bordey!

Siobhan!

- That lizard's back!
- He's called Harry.

Maybe someone should
level the playing field.

- There's something I really need
to go and do first. - What's that?

Catch a k*ller.