01x03 - The Best Breakfast Ever!)

[bunniefuu]

Hello?
Is someone there?

-You're digging your nails in.
-Sorry.

Look beneath the tiger's eyes.

We found it!

-Andrea.
-Mm!

Honestly,
you look awful.

Honestly, Santino,
I'm fine.

Just go and lie down,
leave this to me.

Stop fussing. Oh.

Signore Carlotti,
we have the head.

Ah!
Congratulations!

Ooh!

Please. Santino.

-Yes.
-This is yours.

All: Ohhhh...

Olé!

Allora.

Two V.I.P. tickets
to our gala dinner

for our brilliant
lady detectives.

Grazie.
Thank you very much.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I have
your attention, please?

We have a winner
for our ice-breaker challenge!

Joe: It's a long way
to go for an old film.

Angelica: Not just any film.
"Roman Holiday."

-This was his idea?
-Daniele's?

Yes, but I swear,
it's a film festival.

Why would I make up
something like that?

It's a good question.

I promised Gran
I wouldn't lie again.

What about me?

I-I feel I can say anything
to you, to be honest.

You're never really listening.

I've told you
that's gonna change.

Then I won't lie to you either.

-Deal?
-Deal.

Anyway, why have you
come to Naples?

You never said.

I've got a debrief
on that m*rder case.

Hopefully the last one.

And then maybe we can spend
some time together?

I thought that's
why we were here.

Er...you wished I was dead
not long ago.

I just wish that she wasn't.

I wish that too, sweetheart.

There he is,
the pride of British policing.

Don't know about that.

Martin Laxman.
British Consulate.

-Joe Mottram.
-Oh, I know who you are.

The commissioner here
has been waxing lyrical.

Look, I'd love
to stand you a drink.

Inspector Sarrancino's
just offered.

Oh, we can do that another time.

Mine's on the Foreign Office.

Some bright spark will
be suggesting a transfer next,

you mark my words.

I'm just here on holiday.

Well, don't worry. I'll let
you get back to your towel

and your airport novels.

Actually, Joe, I wonder
if I might beg a small favour?

Camilla, my niece --

she's, um, helping organise
a m*rder-mystery weekend.

It's, uh, in your in-laws'
neck of the woods.

-On the island?
-That's right.

The damned writer's
phoned in sick,

and it occurred to me
that you might go in her place.

-Me?
-The hero of the hour.

I didn't write anything.
Won't they be disappointed?

A genuine Met Police detective?

I don't think "disappointed"
would be the word.

And there'd be a cash fee
in it for you.

What is it you like about her?

She reminds me of my mum.

-And the clothes, of course.
-You like fashion?

Yeah, I used to think
I wanted a career in it,

but not anymore.

What will you do then?

Er, I don't know,
but definitely work for myself.

What about you?

What about me?

Well, are you gonna
go to college?

-It's not for the likes of me.
-That's such BS.

My mum -- she's sick.

You know, she wouldn't want
you to miss out.

Sure, but I can't afford it.

You could work,
save up, go later.

Easy to say
when you don't have to.

Sorry.

Hey, there is a party tonight.

I said I'd spend time
with my gran.

Come on, it's starting.

I love this film.

-Here.
-Grazie.

But at least you'll get
a decent meal.

-Won't be a patch on here.
-Mm.

This evening...

we are closed.

Luca, wanna come
to a fancy dinner?

Er, sorry.
I have a date.

-Ciao.
-Ah, what about Daria?

-You could take her.
-Take me where?

-It's a m*rder mystery, si.
-Luca: Ah, you love all that.

I'm sure Daria's got better
things to do with her night off.

Not really. My mum is
with my sister tonight.

Well, anyway, erm,
I don't have a suit.

-I'll find you one.
-Mm. Okay.

That's settled then.

See ya.

-See you later.
-Joe: Yeah.

Wow!
Elena, you look amazing.

Are you still not
talking to me?

That rather depends.

-After you, madam.
-I hope you know what
you're doing.

She deserves some fun.
They both do.

She's an attractive woman,
Gennaro.

-So?
-So, he's a man.

Eh...

Well, that hadn't
occurred to you?

One day, his heart will mend.

We need to get used to the idea.

And is this your wife,
inspector?

Erm, no, no,
just a family friend.

Just the two gentlemen together?

Lovely.

Sorry, may I just --
You're dripping.

No, Santino.
That's enough, Santino!

He's like a mother,
not a boyfriend.

And this is Mr Miller
and Mr Murray, Inspector.

Two of our most avid fans.

So avid, in fact,
they turned up a day early.

Andrea was kind enough
to invite us in for a c*ck.

I'm writing a crime story
of my own.

I wanted to
run some ideas by you.

There will be time after dinner.

What's wrong with now?

The next challenge
is about to start.

And this is Camilla,

Mr Laxman's niece

who publishes the book
that inspired our event.

Hi. Oh, thank God policemen
are more reliable than writers.

Uh, might I have a word, Andrea?

I need to speak to Joe,
in private.

Er, I shouldn't leave Daria.

Er, no, no, it's okay.
Santino will take care of me.

By all means.

Quick.

Pleased to meet you.

I know,
not exactly Fort Knox.

Joe: Scorsese.

-Any good?
-It's Santino's.

He's obsessed.

You okay?

I'm type 2. My levels are
all over the place.

-Maybe take your tie off.
-Never.

This is my way of sticking
two fingers up to the disease.

-Is that a good idea?
-Mm...

I receive enough lectures
from Santino.

His poor mother was
also diabetic.

Ain't you going to count it?

You'd cheat an officer
of the law?

I would cheat anyone.

My finances are
in a worse state than my health.

Thought you'd be making
a mint from all this

m*rder-mystery stuff.

Renting this place out...

it just about covers the upkeep.

And my legal fees.
The whole sorry story...

is in here.

I'm a policeman,
not a lawyer.

Don't worry,

I only brought you in here
to avoid talking to Camilla.

Am I interrupting?

I was just leaving.

Thanks for the drink.

You greedy little sh*t, Andrea.

Camilla:
How dare you?!

Do you realise
how disrespectful this is?

We were gonna book elsewhere and
we came here as a favour to you.

Daria:
I've hardly spoken to Angelica.

Mm, you and me both.

Elena said she's very spirited.

Headstrong, you mean.
Opinionated.

Do you have kids?

No.

Forget I asked.

No, no, it's okay.
I don't mind.

It's a blessing, really.

Er, divorce is easier
when no children are involved.

I can imagine.

I've been, erm, nursing
my sister through cancer.

-I'm sorry.
-You realise how

precious life is,
how short.

Too short to spend it
with someone you don't love.

I'm sorry. You don't need
lectures from me about love.

Did you know Sofia?

No, but,
Elena has told me so much.

-Oscar, wait!
-Stupid game! Leave me alone.

We can see the rest
of the villa tomorrow.

It's only out of bounds
for tonight.

I'm going for a swim.

You don't have a costume
or a towel.

Oscar:
God's sake!

And see if you could find
another bottle of prosecco.

Do you think you
should intervene?

Nah.

I think a dip
might sober him up.

Man:
Ladies and gents,

we have a winner
of the Sundowner Challenge!

Maybe we should bunk off
and go for a swim.

Policemen are supposed
to be reliable.

I'm off duty.

-Okay.
-Top up?

Santino: ...for dinner.
It's gonna be fine.

Have you seen Andrea?

Er, no,
not for about an hour or so.

We really can't start
without him.

-Well, then go and look.
-Right.

Caro:
It's a lovely dress, dear.

-It's beautiful.
-Ah, thank you.

Oh, I just hope it's
not too hot.

Hang on!
Save some for me!

Someone else is running late.

This is wonderful.

Just hope it's up
to your standards.

-I'm sure it's delicious.
-Santino: Someone help me!

Santino: Help!

Er, please stay here,
everyone.

I'm -- I'm sure
everything's fine.

Andrea.

Please don't leave.

Please don't leave me.

Santino. Santino.
Come, come.

-What are you doing here?
-The party's boring without you.

-I told you I can't.
-Then come to the beach.

-Well, I made a promise.
-So? Live a little.

Okay.
Wait here.

-I'm so sorry.
-You don't have to apologise.

Hardly a fun night out, is it?

I was having a wonderful time,
until, erm...

I've arranged
a lift back for you.

-Are you not coming?
-I need to stay.

Yes, of course.
I will, erm, see you tomorrow.

-Yeah.
-Okay.

-Ciao.
-Ciao.

-Camilla: Let's go.
-Daria: So awful. Poor man.

-What is it?
-Sand, I think.

Can we get this glass
to the lab?

Yes, of course.

There's blood here
and no glass,

and then glass there
with no blood.

It's like three
separate incidents.

-I didn't know you smoked.
-Everyone smokes.

-Can I have some?
-It's strong.

Everyone smokes, Daniele.

If you're sure.

See?
I'm not so angelic.

There you go.

It is strong.

-What's that?
-Extra-terrestrials.

It's my alarm, dingbat.

I have to go back.

-Please, stay.
-No, I promised I'd be back.

-Five more minutes.
-Ah, hey! Daniele, stop!

-Let go! Get off!
-Ugh!

-Uh-ya.
-Are you okay?

Yes.

Rrrrr!

You waiting up for me?

We've been arguing again.

Go on. Go.

-Have you got me?
-Go, yeah.

-Okay.
-Go!

-Have you got my leg?
-Yeah.

Okay, up!
Aah! Aah!

Are you alright?

- Yep.
- Ah!

Oh, yeah, erm...

I thought it might help.

-I don't need help.
-There's 1,000 there.

If you need any more,
just ask me.

Are you trying to insult me?

We're family, Gennaro.

You're insulting me.

-Thank you.
-Ah.

-Second time lucky?
-Let's go.

I'm starting to think
you're a jinx.

Ha!
You're not the only one.

A trail of bodies
wherever you go.

You wanted to talk to me?

I need to interview you.

I told Gianni everything I know.

As a potential witness.

A witness to what, exactly?

An argument -- between
the dead man and another guest.

No!
Take your hands off of me!

-This is a diplomatic incident.
-Madam, please.

Joe.

Thank God you're here.

She's had to surrender
her passport.

I'm sure it's just a formality.

They are saying
that she is a suspect.

She just needs to account
for her movements.

That's just it.

-She can't.
-Joe.

Excuse me.

Just tell us what you know,

and, most likely,
we will let you go.

Or we could apply
to the prosecutor to detain you,

for up to 96 hours.

Camilla, we have witnesses

who have heard a heated exchange
between the deceased

and you at 7:35 p.m.

in the same location
his body was later discovered.

No one recalls seeing Andrea
alive after your argument,

and no one saw you either.

Not until you came back for
dinner an hour later, at 8:35.

You went to change, didn't you?

You were wearing red
when I met you,

but orange
when we sat down for dinner.

Question is, why?

So, the victim had a nosebleed?

Lara: She says it started
when they were arguing,

wouldn't stop.

She tried to help him,
got blood on her dress,

Andrea told her to leave him
alone, and then she left.

Or she stabbed him in a fury,

panicked and fled,
and felt better.

What were they arguing over,
anyway?

Andrea invoiced her
for the hire of the villa

at twice the agreed price.

And why didn't she
tell us all this

when I first tried
to question her?

She did admit
she threw a glass at him.

But she says that shattered
harmlessly.

But then later found
a piece stuck in his neck,

didn't know what to think.

So the boyfriend
thinks she's guilty.

Camilla says
he's got it in for her.

Andrea asked her
to give Santino a job.

She refused. She said he'd
barely read a book in his life.

He's a movie obsessive,
apparently.

And you believe her?

She's still a suspect,

until we can prove he was
still alive after she left.

Postmortem is in, boss.

-Thank you.
-Mm-hmm.

That's the tox report
and crime-scene forensics.

The glass in his neck --
the wound's superficial,

not enough to k*ll him.

-So what did?
-Heart attack,

brought on by loss of blood,
they think.

From a nosebleed?

There was an additional bleeding
from the head wound

consistent with a fall.

He felt faint after
the nosebleed,

dropped the decanter,
fell, hit his head,

-got the shard in his neck?
-Lara: It is possible.

His insulin levels were
sky-high, according to this.

Must've been really unwell.

Warfarin.
Isn't that rat poison?

Blood thinner.
Diabetics take it.

That could explain
why he bled out.

-Any mention of lithium?
-Not in his system, no.

It says here
that the brandy in the decanter

was heavily contaminated
with it.

-Didn't he drink from it?
-Yeah, we both did.

Let's talk more over lunch.
I'm hungry.

I know a great
little restaurant.

Ciao.

Who's that with Joe
and his friend?

Some big fish
with the state police in Naples.

He thinks our son-in-law
is God's anointed.

He almost seems ready
to name him Chief of Police.

Well, wouldn't it be
wonderful...if Joe was?

Would it be?

We'd see a lot more of Angelica.

-That would be wonderful.
-Mm.

I don't even know if
such a thing is even possible.

A transfer.

Well, everything's possible.

Elena, you're playing with fire.

Lara: His doctor says he
was managing diabetes

as well as
could be expected.

She's adamant he's not the type
to overdose --

deliberately or by mistake.

Maybe a third party
injected him.

Where is the evidence for that?

Andrea wasn't prescribed
Warfarin.

Which suggests someone else
may have poisoned him with it.

Lara: So why not with insulin,
as well?

Joe: It's fast-acting
if injected in to muscle.

The victim goes into diabetic
shock, followed by a coma.

Lara:
It can k*ll if left untreated.

Yeah, but how do you inject
someone without them noticing?

You fiddle with
their prescription.

Just like in that movie.

I'm so sorry.
I-I should mind my own business.

What film?

The husband poisons the wife

with her insulin shots.

Erm, I can't remember
the name of it.

-Have you watched it recently?
-Last year, sometime.

It's that, erm,
Italian-American director.

-Lara: Scorsese.
-Scorsese. Yes.

Santino.

I think it's time
we brought him in.

It's on my hard drive.
So what?

And that's just
a coincidence, is it?

All of his movies are.
I watch them all the time.

When? When am I
supposed to have done

this horrible thing to Andrea?

Calm down, sir, please.

We just have a few questions.

I was taking photos all night.
You can ask anyone.

Trust me, we will.

Why?

Why would I k*ll him?

The one person
I had left to me.

Without him,
I have nothing.

No partner, no money,
nowhere to live.

You can't stay here?

There's a court case.

Someone else
is claiming ownership.

We found this
in your Internet site history.

Yes, well, erm...

Andrea sometimes asks me
to help with his injections.

I just wanted to make
sure I knew what I was doing.

We know what you were doing.

You were giving him your dead
mother's insulin instead of his.

Joe: That's her prescription,
isn't it?

It's twice the strength
of Andrea's.

I lost her a few months ago.

The last thing I wanted
was to lose him, too.

And what did you want?

Just to make him
a little bit...sicker.

Just...

a little more dependent
on me.

Andrea was always saying
that we should break up

because the villa might
not be his for much longer.

He said that I should
plan for life without him.

You know...

get a job with Camilla,
maybe go to London.

I-I don't know.

How do you explain this?

Yes, I-I...

I gave it to him, as well.

Without his knowledge,
to reduce

the risk of him getting
a fatal blood clot.

Or to increase the risk of him

bleeding out
from a tiny scratch.

He confessed.

Yeah, but to what?

Messing with
Andrea's injections.

Yeah, but that's some weird
Munchausen-by-proxy kinda sh*t.

Also known as attempted m*rder.

You can't prove he was directly
responsible for the fatal bleed.

His prints are on the decanter.

His prints are all over every
bit of the house.

He lived there.
And what about motive?

He's left himself penniless,
homeless.

Maybe he lashed out in anger.

Went to check on Andrea, caught
him pouring yet another brandy,

lost his temper, tried
to grab the decanter from him.

Except he was taking
photos all night.

We only have his word for that.

Well, you've impounded
his camera.

It won't be hard
to prove either way.

Anything else?

There is, actually.

-The lithium.
-He wasn't poisoned with that.

Exactly. And I'm trying to
work out why not.

It was found in what
was left of the decanter,

and both Andrea
and I drank from it.

But neither of us had
detectable levels in our blood.

Every detail matters, right?

Come on.

-Still here?
-Oh. Yes.

We've all been
asked to stay on.

It shouldn't take
too much longer.

I hope not.
I packed for two days.

There are shops on the island.

We're out-of-work actors,
inspector.

We can't afford
to pay those prices.

I'm under strict instructions
from Oscar

to find a launderette.

Good luck.

-It's very late.
-Sorry.

Erm, I lost track of time.

No, no, no, it's okay.

Ooh! They're a
happy-looking bunch.

The father had the villa
built as a holiday home.

And then he got himself jailed
for smuggling g*ns and tobacco.

How very Italian.

And the government
auctioned it off.

Mm. Yeah,
who's that cheery chap?

Oh, this is Franz Muller.

His family manufactured plastic
in Germany,

but he made radical art.

Used the island as a bolt-hole
when Hitler came to power.

And what about during the w*r?

Ah, well,
poor Franz had to scarper

when the Allies
retook the island.

-So he sold the villa?
-That's what's disputed.

A local family,
the Carlottis --

they say he off-loaded it
to them in a tearing hurry.

Well, don't they
have the deeds?

Lost.

And when they tried
to sell it to a hotel developer,

the Muller family blocked it.

It's been grinding
through the courts ever since.

Oh, they -- they should just
give it to the family

of the smuggler who built it.

Well...

What is it with this place
and smuggling?

Well, Italians --
they despise the state.

They like nothing better
than to cheat it.

And, of course,
all the secret caves and coves.

Why are you
interested in all this?

Erm...

I've been taken
on as a consultant.

And they're paying me
this time.

They're actually employing you?

It's only for the summer.

I thought it might help
keep me...

well, you know.

Why do you think
I keep so busy?

Good night.

Good night, Elena.

Gennaro:
Joe! Joe!

What?
What's happened?

Nothing.
I thought we'd go fishing.

-Fishing?
-Si.

Gennaro, it's 5:00
in the morning.

But the -- the fish
don't know that.

It's my way of saying
"thank you."

I will pay you back.

No chance.

I'm always happy to help.

Although, I'm sure
you won't need it.

Money...

slips through my fingers.

There must be ways
to make more of it.

You think I haven't tried?

Well, you've got a name.
You should use it.

To do what?
Write cookbooks?

-Why not?
-Uh.

You sound like Sofia.

-Forget it.
-Why?

Because I've mentioned
her name?

You can't just change
subject every time it comes up.

It's part of grieving,
of healing.

To talk about the one you lost

with those who loved them, too.

I can't.

Then learn it.

I just...

I can't.

I think we should go back up.

The fishing gods are
not smiling on us, huh?

Joe! Joe!

Joe, you've got something.

Pull.

Joe, pull.

Never seen one like this before.

It's a parrotfish.

-Joe: Just asking to get caught.
-Gennaro: Yeah.

Being colourful
obviously has its advantages.

It can attract a mate

or protect your nest
from a predator.

-Protect a nest?
-Yes.

It's called
distraction display --

to lure the focus away
from something

you don't want to be noticed.

It's quite common in nature,
huh?

And in most humans.

So, 10 minutes,
and it's done.

Grazie.

-Worth it?
-Mm.

Best bloody breakfast ever.

Joe:
Come and look at this.

There's Camilla
in the background.

Take a note of the time.

And now this one.

Lara:
That's Andrea.

-And his nose is bleeding.
-At 7:46 p.m.

He was still alive when
Camilla left to get changed.

Maybe it's time to give
Miss Laxman back her passport.

Time codes can be edited.

But not the sequence
the photos appear in.

You didn't tell me
you took a date.

Er, well, I-I didn't.

T-That's not relevant.

What is is that
this photo was taken shortly

after we arrived,
at 7:20 p.m.

-So?
-So between then and dinner,

Santino took a further


or roughly one every 18 seconds.

That seems like a lot.

The longest gap is
less than a minute.

Whoever -- or whatever --
caused Andrea to hit his head

and suffer a fatal bleed,
it wasn't Santino.

So you're saying he
couldn't have been present

-when his boyfriend died?
-Joe: Exactly.

But someone else might.

-Gianni: Who's that?
-Joe: Oscar Miller.

He likes his photo being taken.

Joe: It's called
a distraction display.

He made sure
to introduce himself to me

and that I would see
him going swimming,

announced his return in the most
dramatic fashion, dripping wet.

So he was trying
to distract you?

To get noticed.

Pull all my focus away from
his true intentions.

Which was?

You got a wet suit?

And it was built by a smuggler.

He'd want secret access
to the beach.

That explains the sand
on the scrapbook.

And why Oscar needed
a launderette.

Joe: Dirty work,
looking for deeds in a cellar.

Joe:
This must be it.

Entrance to smuggler gite.

Should lead to the cellar.

If he comes back,
this is how he'd get in.

We need to be ready.

Lara:
Stop what you're doing!

Lara: Don't move. Drop that.

Turn around.

Oscar Miller,
you're under arrest.

Poor old Andrea.

Little did he know,
when he invited you in,

he was showing you where
to find the key to his study.

And how best to poison him.

There's no point denying
it was you that put the lithium

in the brandy decanter.

It's on your prescription.

Lithium carbonate.

Must be difficult,
being bipolar.

My colleague here
drank from that decanter.

Luckily for him,
you hadn't got to it yet.

Unluckily for you,
it allowed us to work out

that you must've contaminated
it sometime

between him downing the brandy
and Andrea's body being found.

Lithium doesn't k*ll you.

Joe: The plan was to make him
ill, send him to hospital,

get him out the way so you could
search the cellars in peace.

But it all went wrong,
didn't it?

Which is why
you had to go back.

Did Andrea catch you
putting it in the decanter?

Is that how it got broken?

We've spoken to Max, Oscar.

He says you've inherited
a case full of papers

when your grandfather died.

Joe:
Peter Miller?

Or do I mean Muller?

Max says there was a letter

alluding to
the secret passageway.

And the deeds
hidden in the cellar.

You became obsessed
with finding them.

Restoring the villa
to your family.

We found this among your things.

The kindest explanation is
you tried to help

when Andrea collapsed.

Undid his tie,
loosened his collar.

You were worried your DNA
might be found on it.

Did you keep it as a trophy?

It was only a tiny push.

Well, then which of them
is guilty?

Er, of m*rder, neither.
Involuntary manslaughter, maybe.

Well, not even Santino?

They both tried
to poison him to make him sick,

but using separate methods
and with different motives.

But Oscar admits that they got
into a scuffle, he pushed him.

Andrea's injuries
weren't consistent with

the use of force.

What? Not even the glass
in his neck?

That wound was superficial.

It's much more likely that
he -- he fell on him.

Well, what about
all that blood?

That was the Warfarin
in his system.

It prevented clotting,
he bled out,

and, in his already weakened
state, he had a heart attack.

Oh, that poor man.

Erm, thought that was our table.

Ah. Sorry, Joe.

Last minute walk-in.
One of our regulars.

Joe:
Eh, not a problem.

We'll find somewhere else.

Er, did you ask Gennaro
if he has any time

to say hello to Camilla?

I fly home tomorrow,
I'm afraid.

Ah, I-I can only apologise.

My husband says he'd rather feed
people than write cookbooks.

I'm -- I'm so sorry.

Texting your dealer?

I'm waiting for Angelica.

Er, it was a joke.

-Where you taking her?
-There's a place we all go to.

To drink?

We light a fire,
play music.

Alright, well,
take good care of her, yeah?

Yes.

-Night.
-Night.

-Oh-h*!
I found you.

-How are you?
-Very good. Are you good?

-Who's that guy?
-Father of a girl I'm seeing.

-American?
-She's from London.

You know what they
say about English girls, yeah?

-Do you have it?
-Of course I have it. Relax.

Here.

What you doing?
Come on, put it back.

Relax. Be good.
I'll see you soon, yeah?

See you.

-Ciao.
-Ciao.

Who was that?

Just a guy
wanting to know the time.

Shall we go?

Wait.

Hmm.

Please.

-Ready?
-Yeah.

Rocco!

Sorry. Bring a plate
and some more wine, please.

Hey, Fabio!

-Hello.
-Hey! Vino!

Joe:
Marine archaeologist.

Elena: Scientists, you said?
What were they looking for?

Joe: Shipwreck. Thought they'd
found it, dived down to look.

-Help!
-Joe: Dead when he surfaced.

-Johnny!
-I need to ask you something.

-Are you dealing drugs?
-No.

So, my dad says
you went to prison.

Yeah.

What would you say if somebody
you worried might end up there?

Your drowning --
it's suspicious.

I thought this was being
investigated as an accident.

-Don't I recognise those guys?
-Quite possibly.

Dad!

Dad!

Hey! Hey!

Angelica: I was so scared.

Luca:
His name is Di Biasi.

He's a boss.

Do you know
Rocco Di Biasi?

My son-in-law
meant no disrespect.

What's going on, Gennaro?

Leave it, Joe.