12x01 - Skeletons And Cupboards

[bunniefuu]

♪ Heartbeat

♪ Why do you miss when my baby kisses me?

♪ Heartbeat

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

Delta Alpha to Control. I'm at the cottage now,

attending a reported break-in. 'Okay, Mike. Out.'

RADIO CRACKLE

Hello?

DOOR SCRAPES

Police!

Anyone here?

♪ Look through any window, yeah

♪ What do you see?

♪ Smilin' faces all around

♪ Rushin' through the busy town

♪ Movin' on their way

♪ Walkin' down the highways and the by ways

♪ Movin' on their way

♪ People with their shy ways and their sly ways... ♪

What were you doing, officer? Lifting your wallet?

Rushing down the cellar steps, he tripped at the bottom.

He had an argument with the barrel, and the barrel won.

Hey, officer, can I give you a hand?

Just watch it, you.

Oh, Mr Vernon,

where do you want me to put all these doggy coats?

David, just shut up about them, will you?

What's all this about?

Vernon bought a warehouse full of doggy coats.

Not one.

They're men of very limited imaginiation, farmers.

Don't you start knocking the farmers,

most of them drink in here.

What's all this about?

Oh, Vernon bought a whole warehouse full of doggy coats.

Firm had gone bust.

They're coats to keep doggies warm.

They're top-quality Terylene, aren't they, Mr Vernon?

Yes, yes, David.

What have dog coats got to do with farmers?

They're always moaning about losing sheep in the cold.

I suggested they put these on to keep the creatures warm.

Farmers putting coats on sheep? Don't be ridiculous!

That's exactly what they said.

You know what your trouble is, Vernon?

You're always looking to make a k*lling

on some pie-in-the-sky deal.

Try working for a living like the rest of us.

Gina, I want a lift to the cash-and-carry when we close.

I thought one-armed bandits weren't allowed in here.

What?

Bradley's confirmed there's been a break-in at that rented cottage.

- The owner's on his way there now. - Good.

We've had a rash of disturbances up on the Woodside council estate.

A Mr Atkins has made the latest complaint.

- A suspected prowler last night. - Geoff Atkins?

Prowler, indded.

It'll be him and Syd Carter at each other's throats again.

- Come again? - They're neighbours.

Carter sold Atkins a dud second-hand car a few years ago.

And they've been feuding ever since.

Well, get up there and find out what's going on.

Then go back again tonight. I want a police presence.

Shows we mean business. It'll mean doing lates. All right?

- Yes, sarge. - Right, sarge.

Thanks for coming out, Mr Dickson. Looks like a forced entry.

Some ramblers spotted the broken window.

It's a bit of a mess.

Here it is, Mr Dickson.

That looks like blood.

Yes. Someone might've cut themselves

while trying to break in.

You say you've just rented it out?

A chap called Baker. John Baker. Hired it for a month.

He's paid me cash upfront.

Would that be his car outside?

- Mr Dickson? - Aye.

Aye, that's his, all right.

If his car's here, where's he, then?

I've no idea. He said he was after some peace and quiet. Country air.

He may have gone off hill walking.

MUSIC: 'Man Of Mystery' by The Shadows

Morning, Geoff.

About time we saw you lot here.

CHILDREN CHANT: Mr Atkins!

- Atkins! - Atkins!

That Carter boy! No respect for anything, or anybody.

We've all been young once, haven't we, Geoff?

It's his father I blame. He puts him up to it.

A man of his age should be at work. I did years down the pits

so he can lounge around in his garden all day,

living off the state.

All right, Mr Atkins. What about this prowler last night?

- Did you get a description? - T'dog woke me up barking.

By the time I got downstairs, he'd gone.

I just saw his shape running off. Tried to dig up my garden path.

I left it like that so you'd see what I mean.

Trying to terrorise me, he is.

A bit of digging doesn't prove anything. You know that.

He was in my garden last night.

He needs stopping. You tell him.

I sometimes think the Berlin Wall will come down

before we sort this lot out.

♪ If your memory serves you well

♪ We're going to meet again and wait

♪ So I'm going to unpack all my things

♪ And sit before it gets too late...

What's he up to?

- He's all over the place! - Gina, pull in, let him go.

Will you shut up telling me how to drive!

What do you think you're playing at?

♪ We shall meet again

♪ If your memory serves you well...

I don't believe this.

♪ Wheel's on fire

♪ Rollin' down the road... ♪

Haven't seen much of you in the pub recently.

No. I've been a bit busy. You know how it is,

with one thing and another.

Look...

is Tricia all right?

Yeah, she's fine. She's back at work full time.

That's a bit quick, isn't it? It was her heart.

- Demanding work, being a GP. - Yeah, I know. According to her,

her specialist said it was okay so long as she took it easy.

You know what doctors are like, they stick together.

Like they say about policemen, eh?

Ow! Oscar, do you mind?

It's a bit early for that, isn't it?

Are you all right?

HE SIGHS

- You know, I'm not sure. - Why? What's up?

You know the car that passed us? That was Harry Bradshaw.

Who's he when he's at home?

He used to be one of the biggest villains going

when I was first made sergeant.

- Never heard of him. - I'm not surprised.

Harry Bradshaw is dead.

Mr Vernon? Breakfast's ready.

Thanks, David, but I've already had mine.

Just time to wet my whistle before I get down to the station

to catch the :. - The what?

The train, David. I shall be using it to commute to work from now on.

Work? What do you mean, work?

David, I've tried many ways of making money,

but it's time for a fresh approach.

Regular employment. A proper job.

Mustn't be late on my first day.

Proper job? I'm sorry, I don't...

David...

It's "Goodbye, Vernon Scripps, entrepreneur and businessman,"

and "Hello, Vernon Scripps, floor assistant,

Glover's Department Store, Ashfordly."

Needs a good clean. Anyone can see that.

I'd have thought you'd have more important things to do

than check out your cars.

You're quite right, Oscar, I do.

So, if you'll excuse me...

Is Alf in?

He's up on the new housing estate. Can anyone else help?

If you're still interested in solving crimes round here,

I suppose yes.

Have you a crime to report?

Not as such.

But do you remember a villain called Harry Bradshaw?

Doesn't immediately ring a bell.

It was a bit before your time. He was wanted for questioning

in connection with an armed jewellery robbery in Northallerton.

Robbery?

- When was this? - years ago.

Bradshaw was never questioned

because he was k*lled in a car crash.

Hold on a minute, Oscar, you're losing me here.

Bradshaw is officially dead.

But I saw him yesterday,

alive, well, and driving a car.

Unless he has a double, or a twin brother.

Or you made a mistake.

Merton,

I've been in your job for years.

- I never forget a face. - Why did you want to see Ventress?

Because he was one of the officers who identified Bradshaw's body.

Mr Carter?

You've had some damage done to your lawn?

If you call a whacking great hole in the middle of it damage, yeah.

Take a look at that.

When I went to bed last night, that lawn was table flat.

Now look at it.

Did you see anyone?

If I had, you'd have found a dead body in there.

I have an idea who it would've been.

Miners digging on night shift?

Don't come it. I may be retired, but I could still take you, Carter.

- Oh, yeah? - All right, let's calm down.

Yes. No, I will, Mr Dickson.

Goodbye.

Well, there's a bit of damage, but the owner of the cottage

is pretty certain nothing was taken.

Maybe kids got in,

panicked, ran off.

It's a bit remote for kids to be around.

And the only thing that seems to be missing is the tenant.

Puzzling.

Mr Baker still not shown up, then?

Probably just gone off hiking, camped out for the night.

But there were signs of a struggle and blood,

and he hasn't been seen for two days.

I'm a bit concerned for his safety.

All we have at the moment is a break-in. Just get on with that.

Sarge.

Alf, can I have a word?

Why not? I've not much else to do.

Er, a couple of sugars, Phil.

Right.

You're not going to believe this, but I've just seen Harry Bradshaw.

Harry Bradshaw? You can't have done.

I'm telling you, it was him.

Suntanned, older, but definitely him.

But he's been dead for years.

You and Norman Walters, the DS from Northallerton,

you went over to France and identified the body.

Yes.

But are you sure the body was Harry Bradshaw?

Are you positive?

Yes. Of course.

SIGHS Well, that's fair enough.

I could've sworn it was him.

Now, then, Scripps, Glover's has a fine reputation

for quality and excellence.

This is where you'll start, in our electrical goods department.

Oh, some very nice gear, I must say.

Mr Leggat, your supervisor, is on sick leave.

As floor walker, you'll deputise until his return, Scripps.

We put a premium on politeness and civility to customers at all times.

Right you are, boss.

Please refer to me as Mr Draper. This isn't a building site.

Mr Draper it is, then.

Guvnor.

Just kidding.

Let's see you attend to this customer.

Right you are, Mr Draper.

Good morning, madam.

And a lovely morning it is too.

Spring is definitely in the air,

and with spring comes spring-cleaning.

Out with the old broom,

in with the brand-new vacuum cleaner.

And you can have this for cash,

or on our very favourable easy terms.

Live now, pay later, eh?

What are you winking and twitching at?

Something wrong with you? You ought to see a doctor.

KNOCKING

Ah! Sarge. Can I have a word?

Yes, of course you can.

Well, I was on lates last night

and I wondered if I could have some time off this afternoon.

I'm owed it.

No. I want you up on the estate.

Nip this vandalism nonsense in the bud.

Well, I've been there all this morning.

Fine. Fine! You're owed time. Take it!

Right. Thank you.

Sarge.

Checked out Baker, like you suggested.

And his car is hired.

I talked to the rental company, got details of his driving licence,

date of birth, and address.

He lives in Hampshire.

Shall I get the Hampshire Police to pop round there

and see if anybody's heard from him?

Aye, sure. Do that.

Keep me informed.

Right. Will do, Sarge.

Thank you for looking round.

Do you know, they should put a sign on punters

saying, "Just looking".

It would save an awful lot of my breath, and theirs.

What do you do here, Sandra?

Household goods admin.

I order stock, keep a check of sales and outflow.

Oh, yeah?

Excuse me.

Now...

..we don't seem to be selling many of these electric kettles.

I'm going to recommend we offer them as a sale item.

Excuse me, Sandra, I don't think that's how you spell "sale".

Don't you? It looks right to me.

It's right, but it's wrong.

- Pardon? - Wrong "sale".

You've written S-A-I-L.

That's the sail on a sailing boat.

I mean, the sale where you reduce the price

is spelt S-A-L-E.

Oh, of course it is.

Oh! Me and spelling. I've something of a blind spot.

You wouldn't get far sailing in an electric kettle, would you?

GIGGLES

While you're here, would you like to sign

the farewell card for Janice in Haberdashery?

Janice, you say? No problem. We're all colleagues, after all.

- There we are. - The going rate for her present

is half a crown a head.

Hold on. I've never even met the girl.

Well, you signed her card.

GROANS

I'd prefer it if you didn't gossip with admin staff, Scripps.

I wasn't.

I've just coughed up half a crown for some bird I've never even met!

The job of a floor walker is to attend to customers.

Yes, Mr Draper.

Good morning, sir. Can I help you?

No, thanks. Just looking.

♪ What good does it do

♪ To worry 'bout the past?

♪ I know I can't undo the wrong I've done

♪ But please, baby, please

♪ I'm beggin' on my knees

♪ Please take me back and give me one more chance

♪ No, no, no

♪ No, no, no, no, no

♪ It's just a little bit too late

♪ A little bit too late, now

♪ It's just a little bit too late ♪

Hello, Norman.

Blow me! Alf Ventress!

Come in!

NORMAN LAUGHS

Good to see you!

It must be over ten years!

I don't think I've seen you since my retirement do.

- No. - How are you keeping?

Are you still in the job? - Oh, yes.

Still at it, for my sins.

Oh, you want to get out, Alf.

Enjoy life while you're still fit and able.

I'm down to a single figure handicap now.

Cup of tea or something stronger?

Er, no. Tea will be fine, thanks.

Are you just passing, or...

I just want to ask some questions about Harry Bradshaw,

and when we went to identify his bbody.

Good lord. Why?

Well, Oscar Blaketon's convinced that he saw him

near Aidensfield yesterday, driving a car.

What?

Oh, er, sarge, Hampshire police checked John Baker's address.

It's a phoney.

Also, the licence details he gave the car hire company

are also false.

So whoever the man was who rented that cottage,

his name's not John Baker.

- And he still hasn't returned? - As far as I know.

Right, let's take another look.

Hm...Oscar's losing his marbles!

Come on, one fleeting glance through a car window?

He'll need more than that to make me believe in ghosts.

I agree.

My only worry is that, er...

I signed this ID saying I'd seen him, and I didn't.

You were the only person to actually see the body

at the mortuary.

Alf, it was him!

I wouldn't have let you sign if I wasn't % certain.

I was covering for you, for goodness' sake!

Do you remember?

There was a delay...

And you slipped off to a w*r graves cemetery,

paying respects to old comrades.

French cop showed up, I had to do the ID!

The fact is that I falsely signed that document.

Now, if there had been a mistake...

There wasn't!

We saw Bradshaw's wallet and driving licence.

The prints the French police sent over matched.

It was conclusive.

Oscar needs his eyesight testing.

See, I've no reason to doubt he wasn't who he said he was.

It was all a bit of a mess.

The drawers were open, the clothes were thrown about.

Ay-up, I hope it's all right. I've hung them back up.

Well, that's all right, because wherever he is,

he's forgotten his toothbrush.

We'll circulate his description, sir.

See if we can pick up any sightings of your mysterious tenant.

- Radio in if you turn anything up. - Yes, sarge.

You've got nothing to worry about, Alf.

♪ The changing

♪ Of sunlight

♪ To moonlight

♪ Reflections of my life

♪ Oh, how they fill my eyes

♪ The greetings

♪ Of people

♪ In trouble

♪ Reflections of my life

♪ Oh, how they fill my eyes... ♪

Evening, all.

The old : was jolly crowded this evening. G&T, please, Gina.

I'll be with you in a minute, sir.

Thanks, Gina.

Do you know, there's something to be said

for the peace of mind a regular salary brings.

I thought David must have got it wrong!

Don't tell me you have actually got a proper job.

Bernard, after a long uphill crusade as a lone entrepreneur,

I have finally come in from the cold.

I am now a bona fide employee.

Would you mind if I joined you?

Sure. I'm waiting for Dr Summerbee, but she's not here yet.

Actually, if you have a moment,

there's something I'd value your opinion on.

Oh?

I have this colleague, not one of our Ashfordly lads,

and he's a bit concerned about his health.

He's been experiencing symptoms that he finds worrying.

He'd better see his doctor, then.

Yes, but there are certain medical conditions

which could mean he'd have to quit the force, so...

he wants to check things out without making it official.

I'm not sure how I can help.

Well, I thought if I told YOU the symptoms, as a pharmacist,

you might be able to give him an educated guess.

Your friend should really seek proper medical advice.

Yeah...right.

Sorry to interrupt, sarge,

but a man's body's been found in the old quarry,

about a mile from the cottage.

Right. Let's go.

Excuse me.

OK, Alf.

- Have we any idea what happened? - Not really.

He might have tripped, fallen from that path up there.

He has a lot of cuts and bruises,

but there's not much more I can tell at this stage.

- No-one recognises him? - No, sarge.

But we do know there is one person missing from this area.

Are you sure that was your tenant?

- The man you knew as John Baker. - Yes. I'm sure.

Bellamy...get his fingerprints.

Send them to the Central Records Office.

- He may have a criminal record. - Sarge.

Let us know as soon as you get the postmortem results.

- Of course, yes. - Thank you.

I'm sorry you had to be dragged out last night.

I'm OK, honestly! Don't treat me like a delicate flower.

Fair enough. Mm!

So you can't say how he died, exactly, then?

No, I told you. They'll have a full postmortem today.

It's just that erm... if there was any foul play,

it'd be good to let CID know as soon as possible.

Oh! And there I was thinking you were concerned about me.

Sorry! You'll just have to wait, Constable.

The :'s rather late this morning.

I do hope British Railways

aren't going to let down us regular commuters.

♪ Everybody's doing a brand-new dance now...

No, no! Here she comes.

♪ My little baby sister can do it with ease

♪ It's easier than learning your ABC's

♪ So come on, come on

♪ Do the locomotion with me

♪ You gotta swing your hips, now

♪ Come on, baby

♪ Jump up, jump back... ♪

♪ Well, I think you got the knack, ohh

♪ Now that you can do it let's make a chain now

♪ Come on, baby, do the locomotion... ♪

You go on. I'll catch you up.

I've known you half my life, Alf.

I'd trust your word against anyone's.

But there's something here just doesn't add up.

Like you said, you've made a mistake.

- I saw him! I know I did. - You can't have.

If you're so certain of that,

why did you feel the need to go and see DS Walters yesterday?

Come on, Alf. Let's have it.

It's best out in the open.

- Hello. - Oh, good morning, Sandra.

I was getting a bit lonely here by myself.

- Would you like to sign this? - Oh, not another farewell card!

I can't keep chucking money at people I've never met!

It's your supervisor, Mr Leggat, this time.

He was on sick leave, but... he's not coming back now, they say.

Oh! Well, electrical department. That makes him a close colleague.

What's the going rate for his present?

Well, most people have put in d. He wasn't that popular!

Could you confine the signing of farewell cards

to lunchtime, Scripps?

You're in the firm's time now.

I'm hardly neglecting any customers, Mr Draper!

There aren't any.

When you've a moment, I'd like to see you in my office.

Don't like the sound of that!

We needed two signatures.

Norman Walters was convinced it was him.

It was a bad car crash.

Could Walters have made a mistake in identification?

The fingerprints matched as well.

Did they? Or was that fixed somehow?

If Bradshaw is here, you've got to face the fact

that Walters could be involved in a conspiracy

to falsify his death.

I hear there was a body found up in the quarry last night.

Unidentified.

Have you seen it?

- No. - I think you should take a look.

There's nothing to connect your possible sighting

with an accident at a quarry.

If it was an accident.

Bradshaw mixed in some pretty nasty circles.

He had some bad enemies.

Look, Alf,

I don't want this business to drag you down.

It'd be a sad end to a long and...

well, pretty decent career.

I'll see you.

It's not much fun without Mr Vernon.

I'll miss him.

Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.

He'll be back soon enough, full of his crackpot schemes.

Well, what if he's happier doing that job

and doesn't come back?

Well, then, to be honest, David, I'll miis him too.

Can't see it.

He'll never stick a steady job.

Or they won't stick him.

Bet he gets his cards by the end of the week.

Come in.

You wanted to see me, Mr Draper?

I appreciate it's early to make an assessment

of your work, Scripps.

Loo, I know I haven't flogged much gear yet,

but there was a chap in earlier looking at a pop-up toaster.

I reckon he'll be back.

Let's hope so.

Head office in Leeds have sent me last quarter's sales figures.

Makes grim reading.

We're having to reassess personnel levels.

Don't tell me. I'm getting the b*llet.

Last in, first out, eh?

No. We'd like to offer you promotion,

from floor walker to floor supervisor.

Supervisor?!

Mr Leggat has left, due to ill health.

I'm promoting you to his post,

doing away with the need for a floor walker.

Promotion on my second day?

Supervisor?

Not bad, eh?

I've been at the hospital,

Dr Hooper's writing up the postmortem,

but he said I could tell you, your man didn't die in the quarry.

Ah!

The battering he suffered in his fall came after death.

His body must've been thrown into the quarry.

- How did he die? - Blow to the back of the head,

possibly from a heavy metal object.

But whatever the instrument,

he was dead several hours before the fall.

Bradley, call DI Shiner at HQ and let him know

that our suspicious death is now a m*rder.

Yes, sarge.

And tell Ventress and Bellamy to stand by.

Thanks for coming by, Doctor.

I hope you don't mind me saying, Sergeant,

you seem a little tired.

Your work can be quite stressful.

Is there anything you'd like to discuss?

No, thanks.

Now, I'm sure you'll appreciate

we have a m*rder inquiry to conduct.

Look, I need a favour under the Old Pals Act.

I want someone from Division

to trawl through an archive file for me.

Just to check what's actually in there.

Is that possible?

Thanks, Jack.

CID resources are stretched at the moment.

Can you spare Bradley to work with me directly on this?

Of course.

We still have no clue as to the identity of the victim.

Better have a look at the body.

- Bradley, can you arrange that? - Sarge.

Let me know if you need anything else.

- Perhaps I should come, sir? - Why?

Well, I've served round here longest.

If he's a local, I might recognise him.

All right.

No. I'm certain I don't know him.

Seems unlikely he was local, then,

as the owner of the cottage thought he had a London accent.

- Have you checked with CRO? - We sent the prints over today.

I'll get Forensics to go over the cottage. Thank you, Doctor.

You're welcome.

- What are you having? - Vodka and tonic, please.

I'll just be a minute.

Good evening, Sergeant. Can I get you a drink?

No, thanks.

I hoped our chat the other night was in confidence.

What are you talking about?

Dr Summerbee is suddenly interested in my health.

I never said a word to anyone.

But if you're ill, she would probably have noticed.

Aye. Sorry.

That was uncalled-for.

But I was concerned about you, yes.

It is you, not a friend,

who has this health worry, isn't it?

Maybe.

Then my advice remains the same.

Please consult a doctor.

I'll think about it.

Thanks, anyway.

♪ Rumours, gossip, words untrue...

I thought you should know.

It wasn't Bradshaw they found in the quarry.

And there have been no other sightings of him.

So you must have been wrong.

♪ Let you down...

Oscar!

There's a phone call for you. Jack something.

Oh, right.

♪ You know I'm gonna be around

♪ Rumours, gossip, words untrue

♪ Your old flames are knocking you

♪ They failed with you baby

♪ 'Cause they couldn't give you what you need...

I don't believe this.

Why do this, take it out on the kiddies?

I can't see Geoff Atkins doing that.

Yeah, well, whatever rows they've been having,

penalising the children is going too far.

An excellent buy, sir.

Electric kettles are the coming thing, you know.

Where's the lead?

There's no connecting lead to plug it in.

Allow me, sir.

Oh. You're right.

There is no lead.

I'll get a new one from stock.

Sandra, can you get me another electric kettle from stock?

This one's got no lead in the box.

I'll go and get one for you.

A wonderful innovation, electric kettles,

but not much use without the lead!

You can't put them on the gas to boil!

The bottom would melt!

Yes.

Perhaps you'd like to have a butcher's

at some of our other lines while you wait?

I just wanted a kettle.

Just one moment.

Will you ask my next patient to come in, please?

Yes, all right, Doctor.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Take a seat.

Whoever k*lled him waited for darkness,

drove he body here, then dropped him over.

Which means the k*ller has a car. Could be anyone.

And anywhere by now.

Have you got 'em?

None of the kettles have got leads packed with them.

What?

I remember when they arrived. The leads came in separate boxes.

Well, where are they?

I wrote on each box what they were, but I can't find them.

Oh...

Slight hold-up in the proceedings.

Won't keep you long, sir.

This place has really gone downhill.

I think I'll get one somewhere else, thank you very much.

You've a high sugar level.

Is that serious?

What does it mean?

Well, given your other symptoms,

the unexplained weight loss and dizziness,

there are a number of possibilities.

Such as?

Tell me,

is there a history of diabetes in your family?

Not that I'm aware of.

All the same, I'd like you to take a blood test

at the hospital, if that's OK.

Diabetes.

No cure for that, is there?

Not as such, no.

But it's treatable nowadays.

You can live with it.

Bit quiet again this morning, Mr Draper.

But I think, as supervisor,

you'll find everything is shipshape.

I've some bad news, I'm afraid.

Our main store in Leeds have just notified me

that the Ashfordly branch of Glover's is to close.

- What? - We cease trading this evening.

Staff will use tomorrow for stocktaking.

We'll re-open briefly for a closing-down sale.

Then all staff, including myself,

will be made redundant.

SANDRA SOBS

What a little ray of sunshine he is.

According to Forensics,

the blood group found in the cottage

matches the victim's.

Doesn't help us much, I'm afraid.

The Yard have given a positive ID on our victim through prints.

Derek Alan Parsons. Recently released from prison.

Robbery with v*olence, years ago.

A security guard died.

Where was this?

Down south. He's got form.

We should have his file by tomorrow.

Where have you been?

I thought I had some time off today.

Yes, I'm sorry, Gina.

I received some bad news, I'm afraid.

What is it?

Police wrongdoing.

Uncovered in the archives.

The only trouble is, it involves an old friend of mine.

And I'm not sure whether to blow the whistle or not.

Derek Parsons. Career criminal.

Just finished a life sentence.

Someone died in a bank raid.

Most of his crimes were down south, but he was suspected

of an unsolved crime in Northallerton years back.

£, gem robbery. Nothing recovered.

The only robber that was identified was Harry Bradshaw.

Everyone thought Parsons was his accomplice.

Bradshaw died in a car accident in France. Nothing was proved.

It seems, when he was released, Parsons headed up here.

It's likely the stolen jewels were hidden in the area.

He may have had an accomplice. Maybe they argued. He k*lled him.

Have you any idea who this accomplice is?

No. I want you and Bradley to go through the cottage again.

I want the floorboards up, the attic, roof space checked.

Look for any trace of those jewels.

- Is Sergeant Merton around? - No.

He said he was going to be late in. Come on, Alf.

You know, I still haven't told anybody yet I've got the chop.

I'll be a laughing stock.

You know, Sandra, no-one will pay even half price for electric kettles

with no leads.

It baffles me where they got to.

I marked clearly enough what they were.

Aye, but you know you and your spelling.

Sandra.

Just write on that box

what you wrote.

I wrote "leads".

Well, that certainly says "Leeds".

Sorry. Alf's out. So is the sergeant.

The body in the quarry's been identified, right?

Yes. It's official. A southern villain called Parsons.

Derek Parsons.

Derek Parsons.

Thanks.

Have you put in for sergeant yet, Bellamy?

Not yet, sarge.

About time you did.

Glover's Leeds?

Electrical goods, please.

Good morning.

Electrical goods Ashfordly here.

I'm trying to trace something.

Do you by any chance

have a couple of dozen leads for electric kettles in stock

with no kettles to go with them?

DOORBELL

♪ What good does it do

♪ To worry 'bout the past?

♪ I know I can't undo the wrong I've done...

Hello, Norman.

Oscar. Come in.

Harry Bradshaw.

When two officers from separate stations

certified they'd seen his corpse,

their signatures, as policemen, was all that was needed.

This file was closed.

So nobody checked very closely

when the French police sent over the fingerprint evidence.

These are Bradshaw's prints,

but they're not the ones sent from France.

Are they, Norman?

These documents were tampered with.

The fingerprints substituted.

You doctored these and got away with it,

until years later

when Harry Bradshaw drove past an ex-copper

who never forgets a face.

Damn you, Oscar.

You know what we got paid in them days.

No overtime.

Worked round the clock.

Abuse from prisoners, spat at by drunks.

The job cost me my marriage.

I was tired of watching villains getting off

and driving away in big Jags.

Never trust a villain, eh?

The deal was,

Bradshaw would never set foot in this country again.

What did you get out of the deal?

Did he pay for all this?

Wasn't a fortune.

Enough for me to retire early on, and put a roof over my head.

I was tired, Oscar.

Tired.

And Ventress?

What did he get out of it? Not a penny.

He knew nothing.

I manoeuvred him into visiting the w*r grave.

I persuaded him to sign that he'd seen the body.

I was senior officer.

Does all this have to come out?

Well, er...

Derek Parsons, who was with Bradshaw on that jewellery job,

has been found m*rder*d.

In this area.

What?

Bradshaw has to be a suspect.

I want you to contact DI Shiner.

Confirm he's still alive.

And I want your word

you won't take Ventress down with you.

- I'll be ruined. - That's tough.

Either you go to them,

or I'll make sure they come for you.

Hello. What's this?

Mean anything to you, Alf?

Maybe.

I can't see the public buying kettles without leads, Mr Draper.

I mean, even at half price they're £/s.

Yes?

We've got two dozen in stock.

Can I make a clearance offer for them?

What sort of offer?

How about five bob apiece?

We've got two dozen. That makes £,

minus the % staff reduction.

Why would you want them?

Say £.. I'll tell you what. I'll give you £ for the lot.

Well, it's most irregular,

but under the circumstances,

why not?

So...

Bradshaw's alive.

I hope you get him.

For the robbery and the m*rder.

We'll deal with you later. Put him in the cells for now.

Ventress may have been foolish enough to sign it,

but otherwise, he was an entirely innocent party?

Yeah. Absolutely.

He knew nothing.

Delta Alpha to Control.

Control receiving.

Sarge, there's something here you should see.

OK, Bradley, we'll be right with you.

Your actions in France showed a serious lack of judgement.

I'll do what I can.

But it could cost you your job,

and your good name as a police officer.

Sarge.

Er, Alf does have a theory.

Well, I reckon it's a map of where the jewels were buried.

Parsons hid it in the car,

and he was m*rder*d because he wouldn't say where it was.

Have we any idea where this place is?

The trees were chopped down to make way for the housing estate.

The only thing standing was the w*r memorial.

MUSIC: 'MAn From Nowhere' by Jet Harris

- What's your game? - We beat you to it.

What is this?

Police. Hold it, Bradshaw.

Come on, Harry. It's over.

- Back from the grave, eh, Harry? - After these, were you?

How did you get that?

It's changed round here.

If you'd found the map,

you wouldn't have had to dig up half the estate.

There we are, Oscar. One brand-new electric kettle,

complete with lead, and maker's guarantee.

Retail price,

£/s/d.

To you, bob.

Well, I don't mind spending good money

on a genuine bargain, if it's legal.

Oscar. This is copper-bottomed.

All right. I'll take it.

You see, it's all about making the right connections, David.

Kettles from Ashfordly,

leads from Leeds.

And we've got another two dozen of these beauties.

bob.

Thank you, Oscar.

Thanks for what you did for me, Oscar.

Are you going to be all right?

Well, er...I'll probably get an official reprimand.

But the sergeant said I'll keep my job.

I did help solve the m*rder.

Perhaps I should have said, "Thank you, Mark."

Who's Mark?

Mark Sabre.

Oh, aye. The one-armed detective!

Right, shall I get some more of the kettles in off the wagon?

Why not, David? We'll flog a few more.

They may come off the back of a wagon,

but the receipts show they're mine.

Nice to see you back doing what you do best, Vernon.

I get the results tomorrow,

but they're pretty sure it's diabetes.

Looks like the end of my police career.

Don't be so gloomy. Diabetics often live normal lives.

Aye, but there's nothing normal about police life, I'm afraid.

Let me give you a lift home.

Oh, that would be very nice, Sergeant.

Call me Dennis.

Dennis.