06x02 - The Secret of the Flame Tree

[bunniefuu]

Esther, don't forget to smile, please.

Do you have a drink?

Enjoy the gardens, the literary
festival will be starting very soon.

It's funny because it's true.

- You did it, darling.
- WE did it.

Would you give me an interview please?

Oh, this is my husband, Dr Oliver Wolf...

You know it's you they want, Professor.

Esther, can I get you a glass?

No, thanks.

It's a three-day celebration
of Caribbean Literature

in all its forms.

Tours, readings, book signings.

And of course our star
guest, Sylvie Baptiste.

- Welcome.
- This is her family estate

and the setting of her most
celebrated novel, The Flame Tree.

A pleasure to be hosting the first
year of this wonderful festival.

- Oh, well, then!
- After the reading, please.

Remind me not to invite
you to my next party.

Esther?

I was wondering if you had had a chance

to think about our little chat?

I have and the answer is still no.

OK. We'll see.

Ladies and gents...

Ooh.

- Try again.
- Ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome to the very first
Saint-Marie Literature Festival.

To kick things off, we're
starting with a talk from

Sylvie Baptiste's long-time editor
and assistant, Patricia Lawrence.

Thank you, Anna.

When Donald and Iris first
meet in The Flame Tree,

they are worlds apart...

Where did Esther go?

.. and it's easy to see how the
beauty not only of this island...

Maybe I should go and look for her.

No, no. Not now.

.. but of the house where we are all
gathered today inspired Sylvie Baptiste.

This estate is very much...

.. it's in this sacred
place that Donald learns

about the power of Obeah...

Sorry.

It's here that he buys a love spell,

one that will bind Iris to
him, even against her will.

.. throwing a red haze...

.. the setting for
Iris's attempted escape...

.. when she first found
the estate and got lost

exploring the many pathways that
eventually lead to the ocean.

Let me read you the text at this point.

"Her heart was burning in her chest.

"She heard his voice in
the garden behind her,

"calling her away from the cliffs,

"but she wanted to see over the cliff,

"over the water, all the way
to the horizon and beyond it."

Never realised the Commissioner's
reports were so much fun, Sir.

He's had that smile on his face all week.

Just like my granny when
she'd been at the rum.

Do we take it things are
going well with Martha?

Could say that, Florence. Could say that.

She's moving in for the rest of her stay.

- Nice one, Chief!
- Yes.

- So when is she planning
to move in? - Hello?

End of the week, Florence. When
she returns from Montserrat.

Actually, I could do
with a hand at the shack,

I need to clear out some junk.
Make it into more of a...

- Love shack?!
- Thank you very much.

Sir, body of a young
woman's just been found

on the beach of the Malbonne estate.

Malbonne?

That's Sylvie Baptiste's home...

So who is Sylvie Baptiste?

She wrote a novel we
all studied at school.

- Set on Saint-Marie. - The
Flame Tree? - You've read it?

Heard of it, of course, but I had
no idea it was set on the island.

It's about an Englishman who
falls in love with an islander,

Iris, a former sl*ve.

He marries her against her
will and when she realises

she's enslaved again, in a
different way, she kills herself.

- How?
- She jumps from the cliffs.

Well, the paramedics say her
injuries are consistent with

a fall from this height.

JP's up on the clifftop near
where she fell, cordoning it off.

Do we know who she is?

Her name's Esther Monroe, a PhD
student currently living in England.

- Esther Monroe?
- Mm-hmm.

I went to school with her.

Really? Was she a friend?

For a while.

But she and her family moved to
England when we were teenagers,

a long time ago.

Well, I'm sorry, Florence.
Are you OK to carry on?

Sure. Of course.

So, who found the body?

Her tutor, Anna Wolf,
and her husband Oliver.

They went looking for her after
she went missing from an event

- up at the house. - An
event? - Literary festival.

You know, readings, lectures,
you know, things like that.

If you can call that a festival.

So, watch smashed and stopped at 1.25,

so I think we can call that time of death.

Do we know how old she would've been?

She was a year below me, so, 26.

So young. OK, Dwayne.
We can release the body.

Then let's take a look up top.

- Morning, JP.
- Morning, Sir. Sarge.

So, in the novel, this is
where Iris jumped from, right?

It's become a bit of a
tourist destination.

You've all read it, I suppose?

Of course, Sir. It's
required reading at school.

I can't imagine anyone growing up
on this island having not read it.

And that includes me, Chief.
It's one of my favourites.

Really? Sounds like I've
got some catching up to do.

Right, JP, what've you got?

Well, Sir, The victim's
bag was found just here.

I've gone through it.
Nothing out of the ordinary.

Purse, pen, diary,
laptop cable. And then...

this.

"To My Family. I'm so sorry.

"I tried but I couldn't do it
any longer. Please forgive me.

"I love you. Esther."

Poor Esther.

Yes. Strange, isn't it?

- What is? - That she chose to
write that letter on a computer,

print it and then sign it.

Seems somewhat impersonal,
rather formal, wouldn't you say?

Montblanc fountain pen.

These aren't cheap.

Is something troubling you, Sir?

Well there is a bit, JP, if I'm honest.

It's that su1c1de note. It
doesn't quite make sense.

That it wasn't handwritten?

Yes, that. But also that Esther's
signature is written in Biro.

Esther uses a rather expensive
fountain pen to write all her

appointments in her diary.

But when it comes to signing
her final letter to her family,

she plumps for a Biro.

Like I say, strange, isn't it?

So, Chief, there were around
about 100 guests here today.

Anna Wolf is pretty sure Esther
didn't have any contact with

any of them until they
arrived here this morning.

OK then, talk to the other guests,

confirm whether Anna's right about that.

Also, the laptop cable we found in
Esther's bag would imply she has a laptop.

- See if you can find
it hereabout. - Chief.

DI Humphrey Goodman. DS Florence Cassell.

I understand you both found Esther?

Do you have any idea what
happened? Was it accidental?

- We found a note.
- Oh, God.

I know this is a difficult time,
but I need to ask a few questions.

When did you last all see Esther alive?

I noticed her leaving
the garden, at about...

Quarter past one.

- You're sure?
- Quite sure. I was on stage...

- about to start my talk.
- I saw her then too. - So did I.

Leaving the garden alone?

Yeah.

And where were you all
for the next ten minutes?

In the audience listening
to Patricia. All of us were.

Can you tell me about how Esther
seemed over the last few days?

Her mood, behaviour?

She'd barely left her hotel room
-- since we arrived five days ago.

Do you know why?

She was working late every night
on a new chapter of her thesis.

It was on The Flame Tree.

She was doing some research
here on the island.

What sort of research?

She hadn't shared it with me yet.
It was obviously preoccupying her.

- Obsessing her, even.
- Really?

Esther was a very dedicated
student. Cared about her work.

Perhaps a little too much.

Did you have any contact with Esther?

She was here yesterday, helping
me with the festival admin.

Printing the programmes,
setting up the equipment.

And, Sylvie, did you speak to her then?

Yesterday, no more than a word or two.

Didn't she go to see you on
Thursday, to interview you?

She did and we spoke a little more then.

What did she want to talk about?

Oh, my writing. She had
some research questions.

Like Anna said, I did notice
she seemed a little tense.

- Do you know why?
- I have no idea.

Presumably she was already planning
to throw herself off my cliff.

Mmm.

And you say you were still all
present at Patricia's talk at 1.25.

Are there other guests
who can confirm this?

Ask anyone else in the audience.

There were 100 people here and
we were sitting in the front row.

But Esther jumped,
didn't she? She wasn't...

Well, we're not ruling
anything out just yet.

OK, thank you.

We'll be in touch with any
further questions. Bye.

- Sir?
- Yes.

We looked around and there's
no sign of Esther's laptop.

- Mm-hmm. - And we've spoken
to most of the other guests.

And it's true -- they only know
Esther from meeting her after they

arrived earlier this morning.

Listen, a couple noticed
Esther leaving the grounds

during Patricia Lawrence's talk.

Any of them notice
anyone following Esther?

Apparently everyone remained in their
seat for the duration of the talk.

What are you thinking, Sir?

Well I'm thinking that if, as I suspect,

that su1c1de note was faked and
Esther was pushed to her death.

Then, as there seem to be only
four people at the festival who

knew her, it has to be
one of them that did it.

But Chief, if they were all
in full view when it happened,

- it can't be, can it?
- No, Dwayne. It can't.

You're right.

We need to get that note dusted
for prints as soon as possible.

Also, Dwayne, JP, find out if
there was anyone else present

on the estate at the time of death,
apart from the guests, I mean.

Any staff, neighbours, anyone
who may have witnessed anything.

Also, there's a small
bungalow over there, I noticed.

Might be worth checking out.

In the meantime, Florence, let's
take a look at Esther's hotel room.

If she's pretty much been holed
up there since she arrived on

Saint-Marie, then it might give us a clearer
idea about what she's been up to this last week.

Good idea, Sir.

Oh, and we should call Esther's parents.

Of course we will. And
again, I am so sorry.

We'll speak soon. Bye.

How were they?

Shocked and devastated, of course,

but they refused to believe
Esther would k*ll herself.

They were aware she was
stressed by her studies.

But not to the extent she...

Well, that tallies with our thinking.

The receptionist says she
saw Esther arguing with

a male English guest two nights ago.

Sounded like Oliver Wolf,
from her description.

We should get in touch with Esther's
university -- see if they can offer

us any insight into her relationship
with Professor and Doctor Wolf.

Looks like she really was
burning the midnight oil...

What a mess, right, let's see
if Esther's laptop is here.

Strange. She left her phone here.

These look like notes for her thesis.

We used to love collecting shells as kids.

We used to go to the beach after school.

And then she moved to
England? Did you stay in touch?

Yeah. Wrote a few times, but that was it.

Until today, I haven't
thought about her for years.

Anything on her phone?

I've only had a quick look through,

but it seems to me that Esther
liked to keep herself to herself.

Hardly any personal texts or photos, even.

There's no sign of her
laptop either, is there?

No, there isn't. Someone's
taken it, haven't they?

- Why?
- I don't know, Florence.

But as we now not only have
a suspicious su1c1de note,

but also a laptop that's gone missing,

I'm sorry to say that we're
treating Esther's death as m*rder.

Oh, I have never been to the
Baptiste estate before, Dwayne.

Me neither.

Yes, to think this is where the
book actually takes place, you know,

it really brings it to
life, don't you think?

Oh, yes, JP.

I'm seeing it very much
in a new light now.

What's your favourite
part of the book, Dwayne?

Honore Police. Can you open up, please?

You know what, JP, I don't think
there's anyone at home, you know.

Wait a minute, Dwayne.

Oh! Good afternoon, madam.

We're investigating an incident
that's taken place near here.

Did you happen to see a
young woman, early 20s,

heading towards the cliff
at about 1.15 today?

Sorry. No.

Do you live here alone? Excuse me!

Can we take your name...?

Nice to meet you, too! Some people, eh?

JP?

Well, it does look like the
same handwriting to me.

But then it could just be a good forgery.

- It's not hard to do. - Sir? - Yes?

I've just spoken to the
dean of the university.

He said Esther had made an appointment
with the union welfare officer.

He didn't know why but I've
asked her to get in touch.

Mm-hmm. So our victim dies
in an apparent su1c1de.

She'd been on the island five
days and we've established

she only had contact with
four people. They were...

Professor Anna Wolf, 44, Esther's tutor

and head of the English faculty
at Esther's university.

The dean spoke very highly of her.

Seems to be the star of her
department. Married to...

Oliver Wolf, 43.

An academic too, but we can't
find much about him online.

Hasn't published anything
for some years, it seems.

Sylvie Baptiste, 66.

Big-deal novelist, lived
on Saint-Marie all her life,

and Patricia Lawrence,
46, lives at the estate.

Originally from Lewisham in the UK.

How long has she been here?

25 years.

Apparently she came
here whilst travelling,

got a temporary job as Sylvie's
assistant and ended up staying.

And the woman in the bungalow,
did she give a name?

Name? She slammed the door in my face.

Seemed very reluctant to talk to us.

Suspiciously so?

I don't think so, Sir.
There's something about her.

- She didn't seem well, you know?
- OK, well, call Patricia.

See if she can tell us who lives there.

Right, Dwayne, get the
su1c1de note fingerprinted.

And get in touch with
Esther's internet provider.

See what her e-mails show up.

Also check with immigration
and find out about Sylvie

and Patricia's travels
over the last few years.

See if there's any chance
that either of them may have

crossed paths with Esther before.

Chief.

Sir, that was the
university welfare officer.

Apparently Esther had reported
a case of sexual harassment...

against Oliver Wolf.

It comes with the territory,
the odd flirtation.

Nothing more than that.

What exactly happened between you?

Well, it was at a seminar recently,

drank too much red wine.

We ended up kissing.

Look, these girls are
young, they're hormonal,

if you're halfway decent-looking
and under 50 -- they do flirt.

Yes, thing is, Oliver,

we just spoke to the union welfare
officer at your university.

They told us that Esther's
version of that seminar is rather

different from yours.
You were the one drunk.

You were the one who
cornered her in your office,

and the next morning Esther made an appointment
to report you for sexual harassment.

But I think you already
know that, don't you?

We spoke to the
receptionist at your hotel.

She said she saw you and Esther
arguing -- two nights before she d*ed.

I had...

nothing to do with her death.

What were you and her arguing about?

I was just trying to get
her to be reasonable.

Had she threatened to tell your wife?

After all, Anna was her tutor.

I swear, I was only going there...

Perhaps you wanted to shut Esther up
before she could do any more damage!

Anna knew!

Anna always knows.

She turns a blind eye.

Why on earth would she do that?

Because I've sacrificed
everything for her!

She's the star academic, her
career always comes first,

while I'm the one who rubs her feet,

does the laundry and makes sure
there's food in the fridge.

And in return she allows you
a few discreet... dalliances?

Yes.

It may seem a little
dysfunctional to you, Inspector,

but it works for us.

Except, with Esther making a
complaint -- things had become

- slightly less discreet, hadn't they?
- I suppose so.

Which makes me wonder how
Anna felt about it all. Huh?

He told us you knew all about it.

Of course I didn't.

He told us you had a deal.
About you turning a blind eye.

Of course you couldn't turn a
blind eye to that, could you?

I mean, he'd pushed it too far,
wrecked your cosy agreement.

I mean, a few discreet affairs,
fine, but a sexual harassment charge?

I mean, that would really take the shine
off the university's golden couple.

I had no idea about this "charge".

OK. Florence, call Ms Hoskins, would you?

See if she can clear this up for us.

Wait!

Look, he... he wasn't
meant to go after students!

It was only ever meant
to be women I didn't know,

things I would never have to hear about,

but of course Ollie couldn't
resist a girl like Esther.

I'm sure he saw her as a challenge.

So you knew Esther had reported him?

Yes, I knew.

And it was only a matter of time
before something like this happened.

I thought it was a good deal,

that I needed his support in my career,

but the truth is, I
could've coped on my own.

Then, why let him get away with it?

Because I loved him. Idiotic, I know.

You don't think that I had anything
to do with Esther's death, do you?

Well, you can see how it looks.

She was a thr*at to your
marriage and your career.

My marriage is over.

It has been for a long time.

Now, our victim was on the
cusp of reporting Oliver Wolf

to the university authorities
for sexual harassment.

Which means that both he and his
wife had a great deal to lose.

Either -- or indeed both of
them -- had reason to k*ll her.

Yeah, but as they were sat next
to each other in the front row

during Patricia Lawrence's talk
at the exact moment Esther d*ed...

In theory, neither of
them could have done it.

Dwayne. How're you getting on?

- Well, Chief, I've fingerprinted
the su1c1de note. - And?

I'm afraid only Esther's prints are on it.

I also checked with Immigration.

Seems Sylvie and Patricia travel
a lot, all over the world.

The life of a celebrated novelist, eh?

Whilst Patricia's never been back
to the UK, Sylvie's made four

trips there in the last seven
years for other literary festivals.

But after a quick check, Esther
wasn't in attendance at any of them.

So it's highly unlikely they met prior
to Esther's arrival on the island.

Thank you, Dwayne.

JP, anything of interest from
our victim's e-mail account?

Well, I've looked back
over the last six months

and there are four e-mails
sent to Patricia Lawrence

requesting an interview
with Sylvie Baptiste.

All politely refused.
Esther pretty much...

Keeps herself to herself. Yes,
well that's the impression we got.

Oh, also, I left a message
for Patricia to call

me back about whoever
lives in that bungalow.

But in the meantime,

I checked the Electoral Register
-- and the owner is Sylvie Baptiste.

- No occupier registered.
- How odd.

Chase Patricia -- we need to find
out who her mysterious tenant is.

- Yes, sir. - But do it first thing
in the morning. It's getting on.

We should call it a day.

I'd also like to pop into the
library before it closes,

get a copy of The Flame Tree to read,

but if anyone fancies a
beer after I've done that...

Chief is buying.

That's very good of you, Chief.

Yes, well, I'd like to pick
your brains about Sylvie's novel.

As you've all read it.

Of course!

Florence? Beer, maybe?

I just want to finish going
through Esther's notes.

I'll see you there.

Yes, yes.

Ah! On the Chief's tab, Catherine. Mm-hmm.

Victor Pearce standing for mayor.

Eurgh. Just as bad as the last one.

I love this island,

but I wish that, just once, we could
elect a mayor who deserves the job.

What's so bad about him?

A bully and a crook. Out
drinking every night.

And it all goes on his expense account.

Never pays for a thing.

Well, maybe you should stand, Catherine.

I mean, I personally think
you'd do a great job.

What's so funny about that?

Nothing. My drink went down the wrong way.

OK, here we go, Sir.

Ah! Fine beer and classic literature.

- What more could a man want?
- Indeed.

You enjoying the book, Sir?

Mmm. Very much. You
liked it as well, Dwayne?

Me?

Yes, what did you make of
it when you first read it?

Well...

You know...

It's... richly evocative.

A classic tale of destiny and desire.

- Crikey.
- Wow!

It's a triumph of post-co... colonialism.

Kathy Morrison, New York Herald.

OK, OK, so maybe I didn't
quite get to the end.

Where is Florence? I thought
she'd be here by now.

Excuse me...

- Morning, all, morning.
- Morning, Chief. - Morning, Chief.

Sorry I'm late. I didn't
get to sleep till five.

I could not put this down.

Esther's parents called me
first thing this morning.

They'd remembered something
she said about uncovering

a secret during the research she'd
been doing here on the island.

A secret? About what?

They didn't know but they said she'd
seemed worried about it, nervous.

I started going through her notes here,

- seeing if there's any clue as
to what it was... - But no joy?

Not yet. It looks like some
kind of textual analysis,

comparing different works by
Sylvie Baptiste, word usage,

styles of phrasing.

I'll keep looking. Also, I
found this matchbox from a bar,

in amongst the things we
took in Esther's room.

I went to visit it last night
and showed them her picture.

Did they recognise her?

The barman said Esther
didn't really talk much

but she showed some interest in this.

- It was hanging on the wall.
- Sylvie Baptiste.

Not just her. Look at the caption.

- Lizzie Baptiste, too.
- Lizzie Baptiste?

Turns out it's Sylvie's sister.

There's a record of birth and
where she went to school,

but after that -- nothing.

It's like she just... disappeared.

Gosh, how strange. Could this
be the secret Esther discovered?

I can't see any secret exactly.
Just not many records of her.

I think this is the
woman from the bungalow.

I mean, she's a bit older
now, but same eyes. No?

Mm-hmm.

So Sylvie's sister is living
on her estate, not 100 metres

away from the scene of the crime,
and Sylvie neglected to mention it?

I think you need to pay
this Lizzie another visit.

Chief.

Morning.

It's Lizzie, isn't it?

I'm JP Hooper.

This is Officer Myers.

You need to speak to my sister.

I don't like to have visitors.

Lizzie?

I see your plants need a bit of a weeding.

Would you like us to help
you tidy them up a bit?

It'll be our pleasure.

- So you live alone, Lizzie?
- Mm-hmm.

And does your sister come and visit you?

She's good to me. She takes care of me.

How long have you lived here for?

A long time. Since...

.. I came out of the hospital.

You weren't well?

Hmm. Things went a bit wrong...

.. up here.

She wanted to know about... a poem.

Who did?

The girl...

The one whose body you found.

I told her I don't know
anything about any poem.

Ah, where exactly did you speak to her?

She came here.

I told her I don't like
having visitors, but...

.. she wouldn't listen.

And when was this?

Couple of days ago, I think.

Lizzie, where was you yesterday lunchtime?

Yesterday?

Just before the first time we visited you.

I was here. All morning.

A poem?

Apparently, that's what
Esther was interested in.

I wonder why?

And why on earth would she want
to talk to Lizzie about it?

I mean, Sylvie doesn't write
poetry, does she? She writes novels.

That's what Esther was researching.

I think I saw some poetry in the notes

that Esther was making for her thesis.

And she can't say for sure where she was

at the time Esther was
pushed off the cliff?

No, Chief.

But I don't think that that's
our k*ller, though, Sir.

I mean, I know she's
vulnerable. Had some sort of...

Yes, yes, I know, JP. And I'm sorry.

But she currently has no alibi,

and she was in the vicinity of the m*rder

at the time it happened.

We have to do due diligence
and add her to the board.

I'm sorry.

There it is.

Thank you. "Perhaps if I jump, I will fly.

"Perhaps if I jump, I will be free."

I'm sure I've seen that
in the novel somewhere.

That's when Iris goes to the
cliff for the first time.

That's it! That's it!

Now where is that?

Er, about halfway through.

Just after Donald visits the Obeah woman.

Oh, here we are. "Perhaps
I'll fly if I jump.

"Perhaps I'll be free..."

That's almost identical to the poem.

The phrasing's just slightly different.

And what's that number next to it?

I don't know. There's a
few of them in the notes.

All eight digits.

It's a phone number, maybe.

- No.
- I don't think so.

There's a number on the
book, Chief. Eight digits.

- Where?
- There.

They're library reference numbers.

So Esther was researching
all this at Honore library.

Dwayne, I want you to get down there.

See if you can find whatever
it was Esther was digging out.

Right away, Chief!

Where would the library be, exactly?

I'll come with you.

Shhh.

Why do they keep all
this old stuff, Sarge?

It's a library.

It's a fire hazard, is what it is.

You should read it. I
think you might enjoy it.

510 pages? You must be joking!

Shhh.

What?

Dwayne, Elizabeth Baptiste.

Listed here in the index.

Oh!

It's the poem Esther wrote out,

similar to the lines in the novel.

But it's by Lizzie Baptiste,

published two years before The Flame Tree.

So Sylvie stole her lines?

Maybe that's not all she stole.

Esther's notes compare The Flame Tree

to Sylvie's other works.

There are significant differences.

It's almost like she's comparing
two different authors.

Is it possible that the secret
Esther discovered is that...

There ARE two different authors?

That Sylvie didn't write
The Flame Tree at all?

That Lizzie did?

And Sylvie found the manuscript?

I think that's what
Esther's research was about,

and that's why she was writing
a new chapter for her thesis.

It explains why she was so stressed,

why she hadn't felt able to tell anyone.

But why would Lizzie allow her sister

to take the credit for all her work?

Well, Lizzie doesn't remember the poem.

So maybe she didn't
remember the novel, either?

Is it possible that you'd
forget you wrote a novel?

Well, if her breakdown was as severe

as she says it was, then, yes, maybe.

But if that is the case, then
Sylvie Baptiste must have thought

she'd committed the perfect fraud,

until the day Esther came along.

And threatened to ruin it all.

Esther came to see me here,
yes, as I already told you.

A strange girl.

What did she want to talk about?

Oh, my creative methods,

my inspirations.

I told her I have only two.

The beauty of this island,

and single malt whisky.

Did she tell you about her research?

I don't believe she did.

I've read the novel.
It's incredibly powerful.

Soucriants flying round the island
as balls of flame. Obeah magic.

Must need a very vivid
imagination to write that.

No imagination required.

My grandmother was an Obeah woman.

She had the power of love and death.

Real power...

because the people believed in her.

Amazing what people will buy, isn't it?

If it's sold to them with enough panache.

Ms Baptiste, we have a
warrant to search your house.

'Idea for a short story.

- 'A married woman in a close-knit
community...' - Sylvie..?

'.. begins an affair
with a parish priest.'

What's going on?

She was obsessive. She
was losing her mind.

Obsessive, yes. Losing her mind? No.

Esther knew she was onto something.

She believed she'd discovered a secret.

That the original
manuscript of The Flame Tree

had been written by Lizzie.

Esther discovered a poem
that Lizzie had written --

about a young woman who,
unable to cope with life,

throws herself off a cliff.

We've been researching your background.

You were rejected by
publishers many times.

And then, suddenly, you
came up with The Flame Tree,

and you were an instant critical hit.

Did you find a manuscript of Lizzie's,

decide to keep it for yourself?

Lizzie would never have
done anything with it!

She never worked at it.

She didn't deserve it.

She would write things and
forget them, like a child.

I was the one who took things seriously.

I was the one who gave it to the world.

Chief? It's Esther's laptop.

We found it in Ms Baptiste's room.

You stole it.

She did.

On your instructions, no doubt.

You said you'd got rid of it.

Tell us exactly what happened

when Esther came to see
you on Thursday morning.

She asked me if I had any
original notes for The Flame Tree.

Anything to prove that
it had been my work.

She said she had a new
chapter for her thesis,

which posited that I wasn't the author.

I think a part of her was still
hoping that I would prove her wrong.

But you couldn't.

So she said she'd go ahead and publish.

She had the laptop with her.

The new chapter was on it.

Which you then instructed
Patricia to steal from her

while Esther was helping you
prepare for the festival.

But you knew she'd just
rewrite the chapter?

I panicked. I wanted to delay her.

Esther's work threatened to destroy
your reputation and career.

You needed to deal with
matters more permanently.

I didn't k*ll her.

You needed to make absolutely sure

that she would never breathe a word about

what a fraud her idol
had turned out to be.

You're right. I am a fraud.

I told myself I could help Lizzie,
could look after her better.

The truth is, I did it for myself.

I may be a fraud,

but I am not a m*rder*r.

I need to go and lie down for a while.

We've got the book signing at five.

You can do that beforehand.

Tell the guests I am not well.

If you'll excuse me.

You stole for Sylvie. I wonder,
would you k*ll for her, too?

Sylvie got nervous, didn't she? She
knew Esther would just rewrite it.

She asked you to do one
more thing for her.

The ultimate act of
loyalty from an employee

whose devotion knows no bounds.

I'm afraid that's where you're wrong.

I wish I could summon the
sort of devotion you imagine.

I wish to God Sylvie inspired
it. I have no pension.

No savings.

I work 12-hour days that end
in putting her to bed drunk,

and mopping up her vomit.

I draw the line at k*lling for her, too.

Sylvie Baptiste. She
had everything to lose.

A lifetime's worth of reputation
destroyed in an instant.

Or Patricia Lawrence,

loyal assistant protecting her employer.

Either one of them could've done it.

Maybe they were in it together?

Maybe.

But they, like Mr and Mrs Wolf,

were in full view of an audience of 100

in the ten-minute window
when Esther was k*lled.

Which leaves Lizzie Baptiste

- as the only suspect who
doesn't have an alibi. - Sir...

But why would Lizzie want
to k*ll Esther Monroe?

She hardly knew her.

And it seems,

knew nothing of the long-held
secret Esther was uncovering.

And then there's that fountain pen.

I'm afraid we're not going
to solve this tonight.

Let's call it a day for
now. Pick up again tomorrow.

Come on, I'll buy you a beer.

Florence?

I thought I might make a start
looking through Esther's laptop.

Actually, you said you'd help me tonight.

Not often I pull rank.

Come on.

So, earlier, this gardening thing.

You did well, JP.

I was impressed.

Ah, Catherine.

So, JP, I decided to take your advice.

Could use a little more idealism
in politics. The spirit of protest!

A woman's touch. Wouldn't you say, Dwayne?

You'd better believe it!

OK.

If you haven't used it
in three months, it goes.

Very good. Ah, no, I wear
that rather a lot actually.

Thanks for helping me, Florence.

I know you feel a
responsibility to Esther.

But I keep thinking, maybe
if I'd stayed in touch,

things would've been different for her.

It's not your fault Esther d*ed, Florence.

She was harassed. She was stolen from.

She spent a week on this island
alone with no-one to turn to,

and she ended up on that
clifftop with someone who...

If I'd been a friend to her,
if I hadn't forgotten her...

You can't think like that.

Looking back and dwelling
on the ifs, buts and maybes,

it's a fool's game.

What Esther needs most now

is for a detective to catch the
person that did this to her.

OK?

And you'll help me?

I'm surprised you need to ask.

Come on. Lots to do.

Morning, Florence. JP.

- Morning, Sir.
- No Dwayne?

Not yet, but, Sir, you
should come and look

- at what Florence has found...
- Oh, yes?

Something interesting on Esther's laptop.

A video file, recorded on Thursday.

'Lizzie, can you remember this poem?

'If we read it together, in
the place where you wrote it,

'it might help you remember...'

The poem we read is set on the cliffs.

So maybe Lizzie Baptiste did
go to the clifftop with Esther.

She is the only suspect
not to have an alibi.

Except the fake su1c1de note.

I don't think she can
plan something like that.

If Esther was going to the
clifftop to meet Lizzie,

could someone have seen her going
there and decided to follow her?

No, no, it's too convenient.

Whoever did this knew that
Esther would be on the cliff

and planned their alibi accordingly.

I just don't know how

they were able to make it appear
like they were at the festival

with the rest of the attendees,

when they were actually on the
clifftop committing m*rder.

It's...

Sorry I'm late, Chief. Overslept.

Up late on a school night?

No, Sarge, finishing The
Flame Tree, actually.

No way.

Audio book.

- Yeah, that's cheating!
- What did you think?

Loved it.

Glass of rum, feet up, headphones in,

I think I'll start reading more often.

Mmm. Listen...

'Chapter 57.

'Iris woke early the next morning
and walked down to the beach.

'The storm had cleared by
then and the sea was calm.'

Like she's there in my living room.

Everything all right, Chief?

"In your living room," you said.

"Like she was there in your living room."

Yes, Chief?

So, watch smashed and stopped at 1.25.

There were 100 people here,

and we were sitting in the front row.

What's going on?

Didn't she go to see you on
Thursday, to interview you?

She did.

She was working late every night
on a new chapter of her thesis.

If we read it together, in the
place where you wrote it...

Montblanc fountain pen.

The su1c1de note... how
did they manage that?

How?!

'We've got the book signing at five.'

Of course! That's how!

- Dwayne!
- Chief?

I need you to collect the
laptop from Sylvie's estate

and get it to the lab.

I'm also going to need the folders
containing our background checks

and gather up the suspects.

- Most importantly, Lizzie
Baptiste. - Sir... - Please.

Just trust me on this.

This place is quite something, isn't it?

The real-life setting of a famous novel.

Esther Monroe d*ed here three days ago,

in what appeared to be a su1c1de.

She was anxious,

obsessing about her work.

Jumping from the same cliff that
her literary heroine had jumped from

might seem like the ultimate
escape from her problems.

But this was no su1c1de.

Esther was m*rder*d.

Now, Esther left the party at 1.15pm.

When her body was found, her
smashed watch had stopped at 1.25.

100 witnesses vouch for you
all being at Patricia's talk

during that period...

.. in the front row, Patricia on stage.

So it's impossible

that any of you could
have left to commit m*rder.

Unless every one of those impartial
witnesses were mistaken...

.. which is exactly what they were.

Early on Thursday, the
day before her death,

Esther had been to visit Sylvie Baptiste.

Esther had confronted Sylvie

about the true authorship
of The Flame Tree.

She knew by then her theory was right.

But she wanted one final
piece of evidence.

She wanted to talk to Lizzie herself...

.. to try and uncover Lizzie's
long-forgotten memories of writing.

Esther planned to record
Lizzie's testimony on her laptop,

which she did.

'Lizzie. Can you remember this poem?'

But...

Lizzie could remember nothing.

So Esther suggested to visit the
place where Lizzie wrote the poem --

the clifftop.

But we think Lizzie wasn't
the only person present

during this conversation.

Which means that there would
be someone else who knew about

the plan to visit the cliff.

In fact, I believe they suggested
it in the first place --

a helpful idea to tap
into Lizzie's memories.

Am I right, Lizzie?

That someone else was
in that room that day?

Yes.

In fact, this person told you
to stay at home, didn't they?

And went to meet Esther
alone, intent on m*rder.

So the following day,

Esther left the festival
reception at 1.15pm.

She knew that her research
would ruffle feathers.

Esther went secretly to
meet Lizzie at the clifftop,

as she believed she had
previously arranged.

But the person who
helped her to arrange it

met her there alone.

There are only two people

who could've been the third
presence in that room,

who could've let Esther
into Lizzie's house,

been present at the interview, and,
thus, known about the clifftop plan.

Sylvie Baptiste...

.. or Patricia Lawrence.

You can't possibly believe...

You were the third person in
that room. Am I right, Lizzie?

Now, once you'd told Lizzie
that the clifftop rendezvous

wasn't happening any more,

you then went and impressed on Esther

the importance of telling nobody else

about the planned meeting with Lizzie.

And when the time came,

you left the festival opening

to meet with Esther at the clifftop.

This is ridiculous.

I was giving a speech
at the time she d*ed.

They all heard me...

'And this is the cliff right
here on the estate...'

Yes, they HEARD you.

But did they see you?

You see, I must say, you had me fooled.

Sylvie?

Until I remembered seeing you typing
Sylvie's notes from her Dictaphone.

See, you're quite adept at
technology, aren't you, Patricia?

You told us yourself that you were

in charge of setting up the laptop

and the AV equipment for the festival.

And you gave a presentation,

showing the slides of the
locations of The Flame Tree.

My colleague's audio
book made me wonder...

What if you read a
recording of your speech?

'And this is the cliff
right here on the estate,

'where Iris decides she can no longer live

'with what Donald has done to her.'

Now, you started the
talk genuinely enough,

onstage, holding a microphone.

It's in this sacred place

that Donald learns about
the power of Obeah.

Sorry.

But then, I think you retreated to
the sides to let the slides play...

One that will bind Iris to
him, even against her will.

.. where you then pressed play on
the audio file you'd already set up.

'The house itself, with its unique design,

'seems to add a sense of foreboding

'to every encounter that
Donald and Iris have.'

The second laptop vital to
solving this case, your laptop.

'And this is the cliff,
right here on the estate,

'where Iris decides she can no longer live

'with what Donald has done to her.'

The recording lasted for five minutes.

And while the audience would've sworn

that you were still
there giving that talk,

in fact, you had slipped
away to the clifftop,

to push a young woman to her death.

This is nonsense. The girl k*lled herself.

It's obvious, she left a su1c1de note.

Ah, yes, the note was a nice touch.

The fact that you'd got
Esther's fingerprints onto it,

and no-one else's, was smart.

And we already knew

that Esther had helped you
with the festival admin.

I mean, there would've been reams
of paper with her prints on.

All you had to do was use some gloves

to take a piece, print the
note off and then sign it.

Sign it? How could I...

Well, you sign Sylvie's books
for her when she's, um...

indisposed.

We've got the book signing at five.

Can you do them beforehand?
Tell the guests I'm not well.

For someone so practised
at forging signatures,

it wouldn't be difficult to
forge Esther's handwriting.

I'm sure it would've been easy enough

to lay your hands on a
copy of Esther's signature.

And then, all you had to do was
slip the faked su1c1de note

into her handbag --
after you'd k*lled her.

But as clever as it was, that
su1c1de note was also your undoing.

That it was a typed note meant
that it somehow lacked credibility.

But also the fact that
Esther's signature was written

at the bottom in Biro,

rather than the fountain
pen that she always used,

confirmed to me that she
neither wrote it, nor signed it.

Tell me this isn't true.

Did Sylvie's loyal assistant
k*ll to protect her employer?

I mean, you've implied to us that
you were Sylvie's personal sl*ve,

working 12 hours a day,

doing everything for her,
even putting her to bed,

all for a pittance of a salary.

All true.

You didn't even get the
chance to visit home.

That's not quite so true, is it?

Because we know

that Sylvie had visited the UK
several times on work trips.

Sylvie's made four trips
there in the last seven years

for other literary festivals.

And our immigration checks show
that you did not accompany her once.

It's not that you didn't
get the chance to go home.

You CHOSE not to.

We've looked into your background.

26 years ago, you came here travelling,

and through luck and perseverance

you landed a job working
for a successful author.

And what a life you've lived
over those last twenty-odd years.

You got to travel the world,
meet other famous authors.

And when you haven't been doing that,

you've been living in
this Caribbean paradise.

Fantasy made real.

Unfortunately, you realised
that's exactly what it was.

A fantasy that could be
destroyed at any time.

Was it when Esther first got in touch

that you first realised
that Sylvie was a fraud?

No, I think you've known
for years, haven't you?

That's why you stopped Esther meeting her.

You knew what Esther was onto.

And if Sylvie's fraud had been exposed,

you would be the one person
who had even more to lose

than Sylvie herself.

The dream would be over forever,

and so you k*lled an innocent
young woman to protect it.

She left me no choice, don't you see?

She was going to destroy it all.

Take her away.

I had no choice. I had no choice!

I had no choice!

I want to fund a scholarship
in Esther's name,

for the students of my work.

We spoke to the head of faculty
at Esther's university.

They're planning to award
her PhD posthumously.

So I'm afraid it's
Lizzie's work from now on.

Do you understand? It's YOUR novel.

You know... I don't say
this nearly enough.

But you are a brilliant
detective, Florence Cassell.

And a good friend,

to Esther and to me.

If ever I was in trouble,

I can't think of anyone else
I'd rather have on my side.

You hungry?

Fancy braving my cooking and
coming for dinner at the shack?

Is Martha back tonight?

In an hour.

If it's just the two of you...

Harry'll be there too.

I'm making shepherd's pie.

Then, how can I resist?

I'd better go and get the spuds on.

Join us when you're ready.

Welcome to La Maison Cecile...

- We've been expecting you.
- Let's get you up to the hotel.

It's been lovely, our little holiday
romance. To chance encounters...

To chance encounters...

- We should call the police.
- Actually, I am the police.

We know that the hotel
is in financial trouble.

We have five possible suspects.

You want to know why he kept it secret?

Who's the key witness?

It's me. What are the chances, eh?