14x05 - Hunter's Moon

[bunniefuu]

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why does a love kiss stay in my memory? ♪

Oh, June. Thank goodness.

Have you seen my husband on your way in?

- No. Why? - He's missing.

He's probably gone up the far woods or something.

- What do you mean "missing"? - He's been gone all night.

He won't be there.

Why don't you go into the morning room

and I'll fetch you some coffee. He'll turn up, Mrs Barton.

If you haven't seen him either, he could have had an accident.

I think I'd better call the police.

WHISTLE BLOWS

ALF: Right-o, Mrs Barton.

We'll get someone up there straight away. Bye.

Mr Barton at Lower House Farm didn't come home last night.

His wife's a bit concerned. Could we send someone up there?

- I'll go there. - DAVID: Sorry, Mr Vernon,

but Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethingy didn't order a taxi.

Mr Harrison did.

But he ordered it for Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite!

I didn't know that, did I?

Why didn't you use your common sense?

While you were sitting there

waiting for Mr Harrison not to arrive,

why didn't you pick up Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite

and save her walking home?

All right. Maybe next time I'll remember to do that.

David!

What I'm trying to get across to you

is there may not be a next time

thanks to you leaving the chairman

of the Taxi Licensing Committee

to walk home just when our licence is up for review!

How can Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite

be a chair...

Well, I've been searching through the archives

in Ashfordly, but I found nothing.

Oh. Oh, what a shame, Mr Blaketon,

I'd set my heart on having a unique local dance

as the centrepiece of the fete.

We just have to accept the fact that the Aidensfield Plough Dance

is nothing more than a rumour.

Professor Huntley will be so disappointed.

- Professor Huntley? - Yes, the anthropologist.

He's an international expert on cultural dance.

And you just happened to mention this to him?

He was so looking forward to seeing it.

He cancelled a Paris trip especially, in fact.

That's unfortunate, Mrs Fforbes...

Are you absolutely sure that this dance doesn't exist?

Like I said, I found nothing.

I think we should get in touch with the clog dancers, don't you?

We don't want them saying that it's too short a notice.

CLOCK TICKING

I'm sorry to keep you waiting.

PC Walker. Ashfordly Police.

Harry, my husband that is, went out late last night

to check the pheasant pens and never came back.

You didn't notice till this morning?

I'm a very heavy sleeper.

Does he often go out that late?

We'd had some problems with a fox

and Harry was determined to get it.

- He had a g*n with him? - A shotgun. Yes.

- And the g*n? - Still missing, too.

That's what worries me.

My husband...

well, he'd had a fair amount to drink over dinner.

Brandy after. Accidents will happen.

I take it you looked out by the pheasant pens.

I went myself first thing.

Then I sent one of the farm-hands,

Derwent, to look further

And there's nowhere else he could have gone?

With a g*n, in the middle of the night?

Right.

Well, I'll go out and join your man,

see if we can widen the search. - Thank you. Will you excuse me?

WOMAN: Yes.

No, no.

The police are here now.

Yes.

I'd better go.

I was just checking none of the other staff

knows where Mr Barton could be.

- Any luck? - No.

Best get on, anyroad.

Right. Bye.

Sorry, Mr Giles, but I just had to answer the phone.

PHONE RINGS

Mr Vernon, do you think you could get the...?

Sorry. I'm just going to...

Was that Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite

I just saw leaving?

- And if it was? - Well, I was wondering

as you're both on the parish council

whether the subject of taxi licences had come up.

No, it didn't. Just take that inside,

Matthew, there's a good lad.

I hope the eggs are all intact this time.

- Sorry about that, Mr Blaketon. - Think I'd best check.

So she said nothing about the meeting next week?

No. She's more concerned about the village fete.

She wants a unique event.

But so far yours truly has failed to come up with the goods.

What do you mean "a unique event"?

She's got me researching references

to a plough dance from the th Century, would you believe?

Supposedly only performed round here in Aidensfield.

But I'm beginning to think that it never really existed.

The trouble is Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite

has told some professor or other

and he's coming down to the fete to see it.

All I can say is he's in for a big disappointment.

Gina, what's going on in here?

He's not here.

Maybe he went through the other side of the copse.

Am I missing something here?

It's just unlike Mr Barton to be out chasing foxes.

Chasing skirt, more like.

Any skirt in particular?

That secretary of his.

Miss Mackay. Bit of all right, she is.

He'd hardly be chasing skirt with a shotgun, would he?

Let's check the other side of the copse.

PHONE RINGS

♪ Da-da-da de-dee dee-dee

♪ Da-da-da dee-dee dee-dee da-da-da dee-dee-dee

♪ Dee-dee diddle-dee dee-dee ♪

They hung up.

Well, you'll have to get there quicker next time.

But...!

I haven't time to answer the phone.

One of us has got to save this business.

How are you going to do that then?

Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite has set her heart on a plough dance

for the fete.

I'm gonna make sure she gets one.

A plough dance?

Yeah. It's an old tradition they used to do that's died out.

Nobody knows what it is any more.

♪ Dee-dee diddle-diddle-dee ♪

How are you gonna find out about it?

What do you think I'm doing

I'm using my initiative.

♪ Dee di-dee dee-dee ♪

CAR HORN BLARES

♪ Dee-dee diddle-diddle-dee

♪ Dee-dee diddle-dee

♪ Dee di-di-di ♪

Car's still there.

- And the Land Rover. - There are no other vehicles?

Just the tractor.

- What about Miss Mackay? - What about her?

- Might he have gone to see her? - Why would he do that?

My husband, or rather I, sacked her yesterday.

Nonetheless it's best to check out all possibilities.

She lives in the village.

You'll find her in the phone book.

Believe me, PC Walker, if all the vehicles are here,

Harry won't have gone to see her. He hates walking.

Right. Thanks for that, Rob.

I'll let the sarge know straight away.

Over and out.

Apparently our missing farmer's got a fancy lady.

Rob thinks it's worth checking,

make sure he hasn't bedded down there for the night.

- Better go over there, Bellamy. - Right, Sarge.

So you already knew that Mr Barton was missing,

did you, Miss Mackay?

Yes. Joan the housekeeper telephoned me.

To ask if he stayed here last night?

Certainly not! She just rang to let me know he was missing.

Sorry. I... it's just that...

Well...

there has been some talk.

Oh. About me and Mr Barton.

Yes, I know.

Mrs Barton believed it enough to ask me to leave. So I did.

And you haven't seen him since then?

Not since yesterday morning when I left the house, no.

Have you any idea where he could be?

None at all.

MAN: Mr Barton!

ROB: Mr Barton!

MAN: Mr Barton!

Mr Barton!

Can you hear me?

♪ I can't find my way home ♪

Over here.

♪ But I can't find my way home

Looks like he tried to climb into Lord Ashfordly's land

with his g*n cocked.

DENNIS: Could it be possible he just didn't see the fence?

He'll have seen the fence. Hunter's moon last night.

Plenty of light. And he may not have been the world's brightest,

but I never saw him carry a g*n unbroken.

But, look, Sarge. Tyre tracks.

It's almost as if he was shot somewhere else

and then dumped on the fence

to make it look like an accident.

Hm. Not much blood either.

All right, Walker, secure the scene.

See if you can find any other sign he was shot elsewhere.

I'll contact CID.

But it's not normal. He drops things, forgets things.

And the delivery bike will never be the same again.

Adolescence is a difficult time, Mrs Clegg.

Sometimes the brain can't keep up

with how fast the body's growing.

Be that as it may, it's costing a fortune in broken eggs!

Not to mention customer good will.

Maybe Matthew should do something to help improve

his dexterity and spatial awareness.

- Like what? - Like gymnastics.

Or dancing maybe?

- Do you think it will help? - It's possible.

If it doesn't, then maybe we'll consider sending Matthew

for some tests.

But I honestly believe there's nothing serious wrong here.

KNOCKING

Sorry to interrupt, but the police have been on.

They need to speak to you urgently.

That's alright.

I think we were pretty much finished here,

weren't we, Mrs Clegg? - Thank you, Dr Merrick.

Ballroom dancing for you then, my lad.

Maybe you'll take after your Uncle Bert.

Did a mean pasa doble, did Bert.

DENNIS: I'm very sorry about your husband, Mrs Barton.

I should have stopped him going out so late.

It was silly.

An accident waiting to happen.

Perhaps. There are some formalities

that we have... - Formalities?

I presume the undertaker will be able to deal with it all.

I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than that.

CID and a pathologist are on the way.

There'll have to be a post mortem.

Is that really necessary?

In cases of sudden death,

there are set procedures. Sorry, there's no choice.

Come and take a look at this.

- What is it? - A poacher's snare.

It looks pretty clean so it can't have been here for long.

Do you think Mr Barton maybe spotted a poacher

and came out to investigate?

It would explain why he was this far from the house.

I've seen them on Lord Ashfordly's land.

Ben Norton might know who uses them.

I'll ask him.

Ah, Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite! What a coincidence.

I was hoping to have a word with you.

If it's about the taxi licence, Mr Scripps...

No, no, no.

I wouldn't raise that matter before the committee meeting.

I heard a little rumour that you were interested

in the plough dance I've been researching.

The plough dance? My dear, Mr Scripps,

I had no idea you were interested in that sort of thing.

Yes, well, it's not something one normally discusses,

except with close chums.

Well, what have you found?

Only, Mr Blaketon has drawn a complete blank.

Well, hardly surprising. It's taken me months, years even,

to get to the bottom of it.

But I now have a plan with all the dance moves.

I doubt if a plan would mean anything to me, Mr Scripps.

- Why don't you demonstrate it? - What now?

But I need four people.

I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard for you to find a troupe.

Not for a man like you, Mr Scripps.

A man who is so keen to show us

that you can run an efficient taxi service.

Shall we say tomorrow night?

I'll get onto it right away.

- Sir. - Dennis.

It's this way.

Thank you.

CLOCK CHIMES

I'm very sorry to hear about your husband, Mrs Barton.

We'll do everything we can

to get this cleared up as quickly as possible.

I'm sure you will.

I'm afraid I can't tell you any more

than I've already told the sergeant here.

Are poachers a problem here?

Poachers?

No more than anywhere else.

There are quite a few active in the area,

but Mr Barton never complained to us about them.

My husband was more concerned about foxes.

Losing the odd bird here or there wasn't a problem.

A fox can k*ll hundreds in one night.

Would he have gone after a poacher then, if he saw one?

If he caught one in the act, of course.

Do you have reason to believe a poacher was there last night?

Near where he was found. Yes.

Could that explain why my husband was up there?

It could indeed.

Mr Blaketon, you're never going to believe this.

- What's that? - The coincidence.

After all your hard work

trying to find out about that plough dance,

it turns out that Vernon

knows all about it. - Really?

He's teaching it to a group of locals as we speak.

Oh, aye.

I can quite well believe it.

Mr Logan wants his car fixing.

How am I meant to sort that out when Mr Scripps is away?

Well, we can deal with it

That's what I told Mr Logan. He wasn't very happy.

He's taking his car to Ashfordly Motors now.

David, will you listen to me?

This is our future we're talking about.

We have got to get a dance troupe together

for tomorrow night

and teach 'em the plough dance.

I don't know any dancers.

You do now, cos you're gonna be one of them.

I can't dance!

You can learn!

Oh, no, Mr Vernon.

David, can I just remind you

who got us into this mess in the first place.

Ben Norton recognised the

I'm going to go and see a man called Les Thomas.

He lives up by Ardley Bridge. Over and out.

♪ Three hours from sundown

♪ Jeremy flies

♪ Hoping to keep

♪ The sun from his eyes

♪ East from the city

♪ And down to the cave

♪ In search of a master

♪ In search of a sl*ve ♪

Open up. I know you're in there.

BANGING ON THE DOOR

You can talk to me here or down at the station.

The choice is yours.

Les Thomas? PC Walker.

What do you want?

Like a rabbit warren, your place.

Ah!

Found one of these down at Lower House Farm.

No. Not mine. I don't go up that way myself.

A very singular style.

I don't know anyone else who uses these.

They're for pheasants, aren't they?

I don't snare pheasants.

Just rabbits.

SIGHS

Can I put this poster up,

- No. - What's it for, Vernon?

I'm looking for volunteers to learn the plough dance

we'll be performing at the village fete.

I've never heard of a plough dance.

Don't worry. Nobody else has either.

I can't find any references to it.

VERNON: Maybe you weren't looking in the right places.

- OSCAR: And you were, were you? - What do you reckon, Jen?

- Be a good laugh, wouldn't it? - Yeah. Let's do it.

Great! That's almost all the dancers I need.

I just need one more. How about you, Oscar?

LAUGHS

Rehearsal's lunch time

Right. See you there, then.

I hear young Walker's picked up the poacher.

Hello, sir. Yes. Obviously it's purely circumstantial...

Sarge. The Chief Constable's on the phone.

SHINER: I'll take that, shall I?

Good evening, sir. Shiner here. No. All under control.

A good day's work, I'd say. We've brought in the poacher.

I quite agree. The sooner it's all wrapped up, the better.

And the same to you, sir. Goodbye.

Right.

Where did you get those pheasant?

From a mate.

Does this mate have a name?

I don't remember.

- What about the snare? - Pfft! Could be anyone's.

Save me the fairy story, Mr Thomas.

You've been going to Lower House Farm for a bit of poaching.

Harry Barton caught you in the act and confronted you.

There was a struggle. Maybe his g*n went off.

- Harry was dead. Ring any bells? - I never!

I swear it, Mr Shiner!

All right, I admit I go up there now and again.

Maybe the odd pheasant does make its way into my bag.

But I were last there three days since.

- What about last night? - Last night?

You want to know where I was last night?

Not going to ask again.

Scarborough. I were in Scarborough.

Can anyone confirm that?

Some mates I were with. They'll tell you.

And the bus driver this morning when I come home.

Cos I didn't have the right change.

There. I couldn't have k*lled Mr Barton.

And I can prove it.

♪ Riding all around the street

♪ Four o'clock and they're all asleep

♪ I'm not tired and it's so

♪ Moving fast, everything looks great ♪

Are you all right?

Here. Hold this.

See you.

LIZ: Matthew, are you sure you're all right?

I'm fine. Thanks, Doctor.

She seems like a nice girl.

Come on. Tell me all about Matthew Clegg.

Honestly, Jenny!

- You should have seen him. - Is it that obvious?

The moment he saw her, he fell of his bike

and he couldn't get a coherent sentence out.

Young love, eh?

I wouldn't go back to those days if you paid me. Too painful.

Oh, no! I loved it.

Didn't you say Matthew should take up some form of dancing?

Something to help improve his coordination.

- You're not thinking of... - Vernon's plough dance.

Why not?

I'm gonna suggest he becomes the fourth member of our team.

Practise at lunchtime.

SHINER: OK, everyone.

Right. The pathologist has confirmed

that the body was moved after death.

We've got to find out where he was k*lled.

We also want prints and alibis from everyone. Right?

Let's go and talk to the lady of the house.

She's not going to like having her prints taken.

Happily, that's not my problem.

But be tactful, won't you?

It's ridiculous!

My husband's death was quite clearly an accident.

It's just a formality, madam.

There are certain inconsistencies.

And how do you think the staff will react

to having their fingerprints taken?

- It's humiliating! - We need to identify

all the prints found on the g*n. - For elimination purposes.

Try telling them that.

It won't change the way they feel about it.

Perhaps when they see you having your fingerprints taken...

Me? Why?

SHINER: Like I said, for purposes of elimination.

I can't see why that's necessary.

Very well.

But I don't have all day.

Put them about here.

- I've heard Lisa likes you. - Why would she like me?

I'm not good-looking or anything.

You're a nice lad.

- Nice? - Mature.

And you've got a job.

I'm a delivery boy in my mum's shop.

Not exactly hip, is it?

VERNON: Attention, please.

Gather round, now.

When you've done your steps

and you've done your twirls and your passes,

round, right? And then that'll be the finale.

Then there'll be a drum roll,

and then you jump over the broom handles.

Well, it'll be the plough on the night,

but we'll do these for the time being.

Right. Have a go, then.

CHUCKLES

Of course Mrs Barton doesn't help herself,

acting all high and mighty.

Not that I don't feel sorry for her.

What with Mr Barton carrying on with his secretary like that.

She doesn't want my sympathy. Oh, no!

All she wants is a large glass of whisky,

and for everyone to mind their own business

and leave her alone.

Did they argue much?

Did they not argue?

They were like cat and dog.

What about the night Mr Barton died?

- Did they argue then? - Dinner was a nightmare.

He told her he was leaving her for Helen.

Miss Mackay.

That must have upset Mrs Barton.

She's a tough one, she is. If she was upset,

the last person she'd let know would be him.

I'm back.

Right, Gina, I'm off. I'll leave you to it.

Thanks for holding the fort, Oscar.

It's no bother. Shouldn't be too long.

Don't worry. I'll be fine.

I can't believe you're going to Whitby to prove Vernon wrong.

So what if he did make the dance up?

It's the principle, Gina. Remember that.

It's the principle.

Can I help?

I'm here for some ploughshares. It was arranged with...

My dad. Yeah. They're over there.

- Oh. They're... - Ploughshares.

Big.

I suppose you'll need a hand to get them on the truck.

Yeah.

No. I mean, I can't ask you. You're a girl.

When I last looked, I was.

You take one end. I'll grab t'other.

No, no, no.

I'll get my lad to come over. He's big and strong.

No. Come on. Pick 'em up.

Oh!

- They're heavier than I expected. - Well,

you can't have 'em bending every time you hit a stone, can you?

No. I suppose not.

You're a strong girl,

if you don't mind me saying so, Miss?

Rosie. Just Rosie.

And I don't.

- Mind you saying, that is. - Oh, right.

I'm as good as any big, strong lad.

Being brought up on a farm that does it.

- Are you ready for the next one? - Right.

No, Rob, none of them's got a record.

But I've turned up an interesting rumour.

OK, Cheers, Alf, I'll pass it on. Over and out.

No sign of anything inside the house.

How's it going out here?

ROB: Just the barns and out-buildings left.

But Ventress says word has it

Harry Barton was in financial trouble.

I'm not interested in rumours. Let's get on, shall we?

- Hi, Lisa. - Oh. Hi.

I was just wondering if we could have a word.

What about?

Well, I happen to know that Matthew likes you,

likes you a lot.

And I'd also heard that maybe you liked him, too.

Well, yeah. But...

he hasn't asked me out or anything.

He's just a bit shy, Lisa. That's all.

I know he'd like to.

Maybe you could give him a bit of encouragement.

Well, I couldn't ask him out myself.

What would my friends say?

OK. You know that Matthew and a few of us

are doing a special dance display

at the village fete?

- Matthew is? - Yeah.

It's called The Plough Dance.

Well, I've never heard of it.

No? Well, the thing is, Lisa,

that when a young man

successfully completed the dance

it was tradition that a girl could go up and give him a kiss.

Even if they weren't going out, or married, or anything?

Absolutely. They have to be single men,

which is why David and Matthew are doing it with me and Gina.

So at the end of the dance, it would be perfectly all right

for you to go up and give him a kiss.

It's tradition.

Well, if it's tradition,

then I suppose it'd be all

Great.

This way, Sarge.

HORSE NEIGHING

Just here.

SHINER: Shotgun pellets!

It's damp.

This place has been scrubbed clean.

Clear the rest of the area.

I think we've got our m*rder scene.

That's Mrs Barton's bedroom window just up there.

Hard to believe she didn't hear a shot

at that distance. - Heavy sleeper or not.

There's the argument the housekeeper overheard.

Time to put the pressure on, sir?

Let's ask Mrs Barton to accompany us to the station.

If she doesn't want to go?

Then you'll have to arrest her.

SIGHS

You have the right to have a solicitor present if you so wish.

You'd never get hold of him at this time of night.

Nevertheless.

Let's get this ridiculous farce over with as soon as possible.

Let's start then, shall we?

Gina, I'm back as promised, just in time for opening.

Good, 'cause we're performing

for Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite tonight.

But performing what? That is the question.

Not the Aidensfield Plough Dance that's for sure.

- Not the real one, anyway. - What have you found out?

Never you mind. You just go off and do your dancing,

and we'll see what happens at the fete tomorrow.

Oscar!

Go on. You don't want to be late for Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite.

And you've still got your pinny on.

I admit I argued with my husband,

but that's a long way short of k*lling him,

Detective Inspector.

- He was leaving you. - So he said.

You didn't think he would?

Harry was completely infatuated

with that gold-digger of a secretary.

But he'd never have left me for her.

DENNIS: Why didn't you hear the shot?

It was almost under your bedroom window.

I'd had one or two whiskies to settle my nerves.

Ask Joan. She came in to say that she was leaving about nine,

and gave a very old-fashioned look

when I poured myself a large one.

My housekeeper doesn't approve of drinking.

She obviously works for the wrong employers.

So you're saying you didn't hear the shot because you were drunk.

Shall we just say sleeping heavily due to alcohol?

Preserve a little of my dignity.

Who do you think k*lled your husband, Mrs Barton?

If it wasn't me, you mean?

I suggest you look into Harry's financial affairs.

If there was a way to lose money,

Harry was an expert at it.

He was in debt?

I daresay he borrowed from someone ill-advised.

That would be very much his style.

If that's all, I'd like to go home.

I'm sorry, Mrs Barton.

I'm keeping you in custody until tomorrow.

My husband died last night.

I'd like to be able to grieve in peace.

You can grieve in peace in the cell.

And I suggest you contact your solicitor in the morning.

Yes, that went very well.

Very well, indeed!

DAVID: Yeah. But what's gonna happen tomorrow?

Tomorrow, David, we are going to save our taxi business.

Oh, yeah? How are we going to do that, then?

By keeping Maud Fforbes-Hepplethwaite

and her visiting professor...

happy. - Mr Vernon,

who will look after the garage while we're at the fete?

Mr Scripps, he's not back until next week.

We can't close down, can we? I promised him.

David, don't worry about the garage.

I've sorted it.

I'm not convinced by this tale of Barton owing money

to dubious people.

What do your instincts tell you?

I've already applied for a warrant

to access his bank details.

And it's getting late.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Night.

Mr Scripps?

I wasn't expecting you till next week.

You must be David.

- Well, yeah. - I'm Rosie.

Rosie Cartwright.

Mr Scripps gave me a job here as a mechanic.

- Did you say he'd gone away? - Yeah. Away for a fortnight.

He only offered me the job yesterday

when he came to look at the ploughs.

Oh! Oh, right. You must mean Mr Vernon,

not the Mr Scripps that owns the garage.

Oh. I hadn't realised there were two of them.

Maybe I ought to check I really do have a job.

Ah. Miss Cartwright. I see you've met David.

Yeah. He tells me that you don't actually own the garage.

Well, I... well, I don't actually own all of it.

My brother and I run several businesses from here.

I suppose you could say

that he does run the garage. If you get my meaning.

So are you or are you not in a position to give me a job?

Miss Cartwright,

I wouldn't make that sort of decision

without a full consultation with my brother.

- But you... - David,

we haven't got time for this discussion, have we?

We're running late. The ploughshares are on the truck.

I want you to get them set up ready for the dancing.

Is the other Mr Scripps more straightforward?

- Yes. - Thank goodness for that.

You'll see when he gets back.

Any developments?

I've sent Bellamy to speak to Miss Mackay again.

I tell you one thing, I'm not going to let Mrs Barton

browbeat me into letting her out on bail.

If we don't get some evidence, we may not have a choice.

Report's back on the fingerprints, Sarge.

Let me see that.

Oh!

Let's see how she explains this away.

- What is it? - There.

Her fingerprints are on the g*n too along with her husband's.

I think we've got her, Dennis.

We know there was a row the night he died.

Yes. He said.

He said? I thought you hadn't seen him.

I didn't. He telephoned.

Do you know, you really should have told me that.

Oh!

How would you explain your fingerprints on the g*n?

I often handle the g*ns. I'm not a bad shot.

Yours are the only other clear set of prints.

His k*ller must have worn gloves.

SHINER: You told us Harry went out last night

with the g*n, and you never saw him again.

How can yours be the clearest prints if that is true?

I don't know. I can't explain it.

I can only think they must have been left from before.

Are you all right?

I'm sorry. It was just so awful...

to think he was dead because of me.

Well, if it's any use,

you couldn't have known that she'd take losing him so badly.

You see, she didn't. So she needn't have k*lled him.

- She didn't? - Lose him.

I turned him down.

He was devastated.

He threatened to k*ll himself and everything.

But what else could I do? I'd seen his bank statements

for goodness' sake! - His bank statements?

His only asset was the farm.

And that was in Mrs Barton's name.

So if he left her, he'd have nothing.

I mean, what sort of girl did he think I was?

It had to be her.

If you look at where her fingerprints

were found on the g*n,

it's not in the firing position.

No. But if there was a struggle?

She's a tough woman, I grant you,

but you really think she'd get the better of him in a struggle?

And if we charge her, she'll get off. I know.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Sarge.

I spoke to the secretary again. She turned him down, apparently.

- He was devastated, she said. - Turned him down?

The placement of the fingerprints

are consistent with Mr Barton k*lling himself.

When you consider his dire financial position.

su1c1de? Why would anyone move the body, cover up?

Let's interview her again.

What is it this time?

Yet some other ridiculous theory?

We think your husband k*lled himself, Mrs Barton.

DENNIS: His fingerprints are in the firing position on the g*n.

SHINER: He was facing financial ruin.

DENNIS: And his girlfriend had turned him down.

I warned him she wouldn't touch him with a bargepole

once she found out he wasn't rich.

But Harry wouldn't listen.

Stupid, stupid man.

What happened, Mrs Barton?

I...heard the shot about midnight,

went to the barn and found him. - How did you move him?

I managed to get him into the back of the Land Rover.

I drove up to the far field,

and dragged him to the fence. - He must have been heavy,

lifting him on your own like that.

CHUCKLES

Needs must, Sergeant.

I had to make it look accidental.

His life insurance?

It had a su1c1de clause.

So selfish.

Never thought of anybody but himself.

k*lled himself like some miserable, weak coward.

And left me to clear up the mess.

GINA: What do you think, Oscar?

I think it's a farce.

- What do you mean? - He's got a bee in his bonnet

about Vernon making the dance up.

I thought it was you that discovered

that there was an Aidensfield Plough Dance.

But it was only yesterday I discovered a reference to it,

and found out exactly what the dance involves.

Needless to say it's nothing to do with Vernon's fantasy.

You're not gonna tell Mrs Fforbes-Hepplethwaite?

I don't think he should be allowed to get away with it.

She'll be furious,

especially as she's got that professor coming to see it.

- I know. - GINA: She'll go mad.

She'll never let him renew his taxi licence.

It's the only business he's got left.

Oscar, you can't. He'll be ruined.

Don't you think I hadn't thought about that?

I've charged Mrs Barton

with attempting to obtain money by deception.

Shame.

- But it definitely wasn't m*rder. - No, sir.

Had me going for a while, though.

Yes, sir.

I'll leave you to get on with it, Sergeant.

Sir.

I don't know what you're all hanging about for.

There's a village fete to attend, isn't there?

INDISTINCT CHATTER

You should buy that Victoria sponge.

I made it myself.

This way, Professor.

I'll have the sponge, please,

now I know it's not made by Mrs Ventress.

Mr Scripps,

this is Professor Huntley, the eminent anthropologist.

We are honoured indeed to have such a distinguished academic

at our humble village fete.

I'm not stopping.

Oscar, please don't say anything.

Don't worry, Gina.

Professor Huntley, I presume.

I think you and I should have a chat about this plough dance.

Let me introduce Oscar Blaketon, Professor.

An esteemed local councillor,

and the real discoverer of the plough dance.

Let me tell you...

If it hadn't been for Oscar,

you wouldn't see this plough dance performed today.

You see, the thing is, Mr Scripps here

has taken the dance...

I've done my best to teach

unskilled but keen villagers the dance.

But really it's down to Oscar's hard work

in libraries throughout the county

that has been the inspiration.

That is something we will all be eternally grateful for.

All the libraries in the county.

The Whitby Library to be exact.

Well, I can't really take all the credit.

DRUM ROLL

Oh, they're about to begin.

FOLK TUNE

Follow me.

- Why? - Accident prevention.

Lisa, have you seen this massive jar of sweets?

You can win that, you know.

I don't want a massive sweet jar.

And I don't want a cake.

I don't want Matthew to trip over and break his leg.

You know he falls to pieces every time he sees you.

I've got to be there for the end of the dance.

There's something I've got to do Please. It's important.

Alright, but don't do it till the end of the dance.

- Do you promise? - I promise.

CHEERING

Come on, Matthew! Come on.

Come on. You can do it.

CHEERING

Well done. That's great!

He loved it. Well done, Mr Scripps!

I take it our little misunderstanding

with the taxi is forgotten.

What misunderstanding would that be?

Oh-oh!