06x08 - m*rder in the Polls

[bunniefuu]

[Oh, we might be in trouble.]

Morning, Edwina.

Reverend. Mrs Dawson.

Sorry we're late. Bit of an incident
at the orphanage this morning.

Those kids will be the death of me.

You're keen, Officer Myers.

I'm afraid polling doesn't
start for another 20 minutes.

Actually, I'm here in my
official capacity, Reverend.

The commissioner wanted a
presence, as he calls it, for when

the candidates show up.

Trying to impress the new mayor
even before they've been elected?

- You might think that,
I couldn't comment. - Ah.

Yes, those are the right ones.

The sign needs putting out.

I'll do that, then. Thank you, Edwina.

I think my policies are clear,
and I'd like to think the people

of Saint Marie feel the same and
show their support accordingly.

Morning, Dwayne.

Ah! Morning, Catherine.

- I hope I can count on
your vote today. - My vote?

Oh, well, of course.

I mean, who else would I vote for, huh?

- All the best for today.
- The same to you, Peter.

Whichever way it goes, I'd
like to think that you and I

- could work together.
- I'd like that.

Just as long as one of us beats him.

OK, Dad. The journalist's
name is Samantha Palmer.

You donated money to her
son's school to help build

- a new sports hall.
- The boy's name? - Marvin.

Ah, Samantha. So good to see you.

How's young Marvin?

He's doing well...

This fan is broken.

I think there's a spare in the storeroom.

The candidates are coming in.

I'm going to get another fan.

I can't be expected to sit
in this heat without a fan.

Morning. Residents of
Honore District Council

should register at Reverend Dawson's desk,

and those in the Port Royal
district should register with me.

Judith, where's the fan?

Victor Pearce. 14, Rue de Taranne.

I'll come in a minute.

Hi!

- Where is the fan?
- Right, I'm coming over. We'll find it.

The fan is on the top shelf.

- Excuse me. There's no pen
in this booth. - Sorry.

Right in front of your eyes. Right there.

(Sorry.)

Thank you.

Victor, are you all right?

Oh, my God!

Dad!

How is your lemonade, Inspector?

Lovely.

Very... lemony.

I like it... love it. Mm!

I had a phone call from your
supervising officer back in the UK.

- It's not about the expenses? I expl...
- He didn't mention them.

That's a relief.

It seems London aren't willing
to be quite as flexible

about our arrangement as we first thought.

I see.

Actually, I'm not sure that I do see.

Am I to go back, or stay, or...?

The decision lies entirely
with you, Inspector.

Well. It's very tempting, I have
to admit. But the thing is...

Yes, Dorothy?

Put him through.

Minister, good morning.

How are...?

I'm on my way.

We've cleared the scene, sir.

The witnesses are waiting for us
in the church when you're ready.

So the Commissioner was telling
me our victim is Victor Pearce,

a local businessman who was
standing for mayor, is that right?

Yes, sir.

He and the other candidates
were casting their votes

when it happened, just after 10am.

I was on duty outside the main door.

I thought a presence would be appropriate.

And Catherine was here as well, I take it,

her being a candidate?

It was Catherine who raised the alarm.

Oh. Looks like a 20cm blade at a guess.

Kitchen Kn*fe, maybe?

Any fingerprints, JP?

Some partials, I think,
but it's hard to make out.

I'll get it out to the lab, sir.

Those two desks, Port Royal and Honore.

You collect your ballot depending
on which area you live in?

That's right, sir. Our
victim was an Honore resident.

So he got his ballot here,

then walked back over to the booth...

here...

to cast his vote.

Witnesses?

Six other people in here when
it happened. No-one saw a thing.

That's not possible, is it?

Everyone was sure about where they were.

No-one was near the victim's booth.

- They think an intruder must
have got in. - From where?

No-one passed me.

- The windows?
- All locked. I checked.

What about that fire escape?

Can that be opened from the outside?

No, it only opens one way.

Makes sense, I suppose. Who'd want
to run IN to a burning building?

So if nobody else came in and
nobody left, our culprit must be one

of the six people who
were already in here.

Now, this is simply routine,

nothing at all for you to worry about,

but if I could just ask if you
could remember your exact position

in the community centre when
Catherine here raised the alarm.

Well, I was in one of the
booths casting my vote.

'Kemar was in the one next to me.

'The partitions in the booths are
from the waist up so you can see'

if someone's in the booth next to you.

'I was in the booth next to Victor.

'I heard the noise first.'

Victor breathing in, like he was in pain.

'And I noticed blood on the floor,'

so I went to check if he was OK, and...

And what about the rest of you?

Edwina?

Miss Bousquet, if you
don't mind, Inspector.

My apologies, Miss Bousquet.
Forgive my impertinence,

but do you mind me asking, where
were you when this was going on?

I was in the storeroom...

'.. trying to find a
fan that wasn't broken.'

Judith! I can't find the fan.

She was struggling, so I
went to go and help her.

Edwina, the fan is in the other
cupboard. Right in front of you.

Then we heard a commotion and
went over to find that Mr Pearce

had been...

Oh, my God.

OK. Thank you.

So I have Mr Pearce and the three
of you in the polling booths,

and you two ladies were in the storeroom.

Which leaves us...

Reverend Dawson.

I didn't leave my desk.

Actually, that's not strictly true.

Victor's booth didn't have a pen in it.

'He asked me for one, so I
went and handed it to him.'

Right.

Did all the other booths have pens?

We set up last night. I'm
sure I put one in there.

It was quite late. Maybe you forgot.

So after handing Mr Pearce the pen,
you went straight back to your desk?

- Yes.
- He did.

When I heard my dad asking for the pen,

'I looked out to see it
was being dealt with.'

That only leaves one person.

Catherine Bordey.

She was the one in the
booth next to my father.

When the reverend went back to his
desk, she could have leaned out

and stabbed him then.

But I only went to him when
I saw the blood on the floor.

All right, thank you all very much indeed.

I think we'll leave it there for now.

And we'll try not to bother you again,

but if you could just
make sure the officer here

has details of where you can
be contacted on the off-chance

that we might have to
speak to you again. OK.

Good job, sir.

Well, I'm no Van Gogh,
Florence, but each to his own.

- So, shall we go over what
we have so far? - Mm-hm.

Victor Pearce. What do we know about him?

63. Born and raised in Honore.

Set up a boat hire business
when he left school at 18.

Now owns several
businesses on Saint Marie.

Would he have made a
popular mayor, do you think?

Some people didn't like his plans
to commercialise the island,

but the polls predicted
he was likely to win.

He had the money to run
a much bigger campaign.

And who is going to inherit
all this wealth? His son?

We are waiting for confirmation,
but that seems to be the case.

So if Kemar Pearce was going
to inherit all of Daddy's money,

I guess that's a motive.

Been working as his father's
PA for the last few months.

But before that, there's not much.

Peter Baxter.

"Grew up in the UK.

"Trained as a teacher and moved
here to work ten years ago.

"Married with two children."

He's big on family values
and promoting education

in the community.

Next is Miss Edwina Bousquet.

Ah, the indomitable Miss Bousquet.

I've met a lot like her
in my time, Florence.

A fair few of them in my own family.

Edwina Bousquet is 62. No
children. Never married.

Retired, but used to work at the library.

Now she helps at the
church doing flowers, etc.

Which leaves us with...

Reverend Matthew Dawson
and his wife, Judith.

Reverend Dawson is the minister at
St Anne's. Originally from London,

came to Saint Marie eight years ago,

which is when he met Mrs
Dawson who was volunteering

at the church's orphanage.

- She was an orphan at
St Anne's herself... - Oh!

.. until she was taken
in by a local family.

- So, these two, they run the
orphanage together? - That's right.

And I found one thing of interest
in the church's online newsletter.

There's been an ongoing
dispute between the Dawsons

and Victor Pearce.

We are still looking into it, but
it seems Mr Pearce was trying to buy

the land the orphanage
is on so he could develop

a holiday village there.

- Reverend Dawson wasn't going
to stand for that! - No, sir.

OK, so that's five. Who's left?

Ah. Catherine.

Well, you know her better than me.

Are there any circumstances in
which she might be our k*ller?

No, sir.

I'd stake my life on it.

Are you OK for the picture?

Ah, lads, how'd you get
on at the victim's house?

Very nice. Swimming pool, hot
tub. Gym in the basement.

That sounds lovely, Dwayne.

Er, anything that might
help us catch a k*ller?

Well, we got everything we could
find, sir, just like you said.

Good stuff.

Now, one or more of these five
people k*lled Victor Pearce,

in cold blood and in broad daylight.
Now whatever sort of a man

he was, we can't let
them get away with that.

I know it's late, but I'd like
to get as much done as possible

- this evening.
- Yes, sir.

OK, background and finance checks.

Police, regional council,
government records on all five.

- But, Sarge... - Eh...
- I... - Chut-chut!

Siobhan! That lizard's back.

He's called Harry.

Well, he doesn't look like a Harry.

- He probably wants feeding.
- Surely he can do that for himself.

Catch things with that
ridiculous tongue of his.

Well, JP said he likes
mangos and mozzies mashed up.

Oh, so now we're mashing
up mosquitoes for a lizard?

Seriously, Siobhan.

We're not in London any more,
Dad. You have to expect things

to be a little different.

Ah...

I was going to talk to you about that.

The commissioner wants to
know if I would stay here.

- Permanently.
- Oh?

So come on, what do you think?

What do YOU think?

The honest truth is...

.. I couldn't be happy
here if you weren't.

Anyway, with everything that's happened...

.. I need, very much, for you to be happy.

Can I think about it?

Of course you can, love.

OK.

Poor Catherine.

I want to know where they
got this information.

Maybe someone is trying to deflect
attention away from themselves.

Exactly.

Right, I'm going to the paper.
See what I can find out.

Yes, please, Dwayne.

Hello, Honore police.

Oh, and I spoke to Victor Pearce's
solicitor, and he confirmed

- that Victor left everything to his son.
- OK. Thank you.

I have something, sir.

I'm not sure if it means anything,
but the victim went to the

same school as Edwina Bousquet.

Vieux Moulin secondary.

She never mentioned that, did she?

Well, it was a long time ago.

My mum is friends with the old
headmistress at Vieux Moulin.

She's been visiting friends
in Montserrat, but is back

this evening.

- Sir.
- Yes, JP?

That was our contact from the council.

He was saying the only thing that
would allow Victor Pearce to buy

the orphanage would be
if it was closed down.

And the only reason why that would
happen would be if its funding

- was cut.
- And is that a possibility?

It would have been if Victor
Pearce had been elected.

The funding for the orphanage
falls directly under the control

- of the mayor.
- Oh.

No, nothing important.

And we'll try to be as quick as we can.

I do hope WE haven't come under suspicion.

No, no, heavens, no. You've made
it very clear where you both were

when the terrible deed took place.

- And you can't be in two
places at once, can you? - No.

Now, what was it we needed to ask?

Just a tiny thing if I remember.

Ah, yes.

You had a dispute with the
victim, about him cutting funding

to the orphanage, turfing you out
and building a holiday resort

on the land.

Er, well...

Er, yes, but, well... It
wasn't quite that clear-cut.

It wasn't? Well, ignore my
clumsy way of putting things.

You explain how it was.

Ah, well, I mean, it was common
knowledge he owned the land

surrounding us.

So, yes, the orphanage
was of interest to him.

And what would've
happened to the children?

Well, we only have three children
in our care at the moment.

They'd have been moved to an orphanage

on one of the other islands
where there are bigger

and better facilities.

You must have been worried sick.

Well, we were worried, of course.

But not any more.

And was any of this discussed
yesterday, when Victor arrived

at the polling station?

No. I don't think he
even knew who we were.

We did try and arrange
a meeting but, er...

He was a hard man to
get an appointment with.

Still, as they say, it's an ill
wind that blows nobody any good.

By that I mean, Victor's death...
Tragic and all as it was,

well, at least it means the
orphanage is still safe.

Not that either of you
wished the poor man dead!

Oh, of course not!

Ah, the children. They're
back for their lunch.

- Ready, steady... hop up!
- Lovely kids.

Have they been with you long?

Maisie since she was four. The
boys since they were babies.

Do you mind me asking, do you
and Mrs Dawson have children

of your own?

- Er, no. We don't. It never
quite happened for us. - Sorry.

Well, thank you for your time
and answering all our questions.

- It's very good of you. We'll try
not to bother you again. - Thank you.

Don't worry about them. They're
just going through the motions.

- Dwayne...
- Mm?

I hope that newspaper report
doesn't ruin Catherine's chances

of becoming mayor.

Well, you know, JP, it
might not be a bad thing.

What?

Look...

It's not that I don't like
Catherine. Of course I do.

- But when it comes to...
- Wait!

Are you saying that you
wouldn't vote for her?

No, no, no, no. You
see, it's like this, JP.

There's a little establishment
I know that sells rum

at what I would call a
very reasonable price.

- Is there, now?
- Oh, yes.

And that establishment I
know Catherine does not look

too kindly upon. You understand me?

Don't worry, Dwayne. I understand you.

- Good.
- Mm.

You don't want Catherine to become
mayor, because you won't be able

to buy your cheap rum any more.

Hey! There's no need
to put it like that, OK?

So how should I put it?

What's your problem?

- What do you care who I
vote for? - I don't. - Huh?

But Catherine is our friend. And
you, you should be supporting her.

Now listen here, JP...

With the report...

Oh, yes, um... We got the
postmortem report back, sir.

"Victim d*ed from a deep
laceration to the right lung

"causing intra... thoracic haemorrhage."

Well, I don't have a clue what that is,

but I'd say it was the Kn*fe
in his back that did for him.

Yeah.

What about prints?

Ah, same result, sir.

We got some partials,
but nothing we can use.

Any more news on the victim's finances?

Well, looking at the paperwork
we took from the house, it's

pretty clear that up until a few
months ago, Victor was throwing

a whole heap of money at his son.

What happened a couple of months ago?

Kemar was put on Victor's company's
payroll as his personal assistant.

He was still paying him, though?

Yes, but significantly less than before.

So Dad was trying to
curb his son's spending?

If he was, it didn't work.

As far as I can see, Kemar carried
on as if nothing had changed.

You know, flashy-flashy.

I mean, it's only been a couple
of months, but he's in a heck of

a lot of debt.

And his father didn't help?

Far from it. Two days ago,
his salary wasn't paid,

so I checked with the bank as to why.

Seems Victor had put a bar
on all transactions going from

his accounts into his son's.

- Two days ago?
- Next morning, Victor's dead.

And Kemar inherits everything.

I can see how it looks,
Inspector, but trust me,

Dad wasn't going to cut me off.

I'm sure, and I'm sorry to
have to ask you these things.

It's just we have to report back, you see.

He went into one sometimes,
trying to make a point.

But it never lasted long.

Well, that's not the
impression we have of him.

I mean, he was a successful
businessman, wasn't he?

Strong-willed. Ruthless, even.

Yeah, but things were different with me.

Because ever since my mum d*ed,
when I was ten, he hasn't had

- the faintest clue what to do with me.
- What do you mean?

The only reason he wanted a
child was so that he had someone

to carry on his business empire
after he d*ed. His legacy.

As far as actually
raising me was concerned,

he couldn't have cared less.

That was supposed to be your mum's job.

So he did what he does whenever
there is a problem needs solving.

He threw money at it. At me.

And he's been doing the same ever since.

So...

Look, you're right.

I wasn't happy about him trying
to cut back on my spending.

But you can't really think
I k*lled him because of it?

Heavens, no, how could you?
You explained where you were.

No, we're just looking at your
dad's state of mind, that's all.

Yeah, we shouldn't've bothered you.
Especially at a time like this.

No problem.

Two questions...

Who and how?

And to be honest, we're
no closer to either.

But ignoring the "how" for a
moment, let's think about the "who".

Reverend Dawson and his wife, Judith.

They faced losing the orphanage if
Victor Pearce was elected mayor.

I checked with the council and
apparently Reverend and Mrs Dawson

had applied to adopt the
three children at St Anne's.

But it was early days, and the
process could take a few years.

None of which is a problem now that
Mr Pearce is no longer with us.

Rest his soul. That said,
both alibis seem solid.

- Kemar Pearce. - Victor threatened
to cut him off financially,

but he claims his dad would
never have gone through with it.

And I think he was telling
the truth about that.

So if he didn't believe his father
would cut the purse strings,

why k*ll him?

Which leaves Edwina
Bousquet and Peter Baxter.

But neither has an obvious motive.

Well, I've been going through
the victim's phone records.

Now, there's a lot of calls between
his son and him, as you'd expect.

No contact with any of the other
suspects, apart from calls

between him and Peter
Baxter over the last week.

But as they're both mayoral
candidates, there's no suggestion

that there's anything sinister in that.

Anything on his computer?

Well, I've finished
going through his laptop.

I get the impression he
was a bit of a workaholic.

His e-mails, all business.
Nothing personal in there at all.

Which currently leaves us
right back at the beginning

of this investigation,

in St Anne's Community
Centre on polling day.

Mayoral candidate Victor Pearce
was casting his vote when one of

these five suspects managed to
scuttle into his booth unseen

and stick a Kn*fe in his back.

Sorry. Sorry about that.

But how could nobody see it happen?

Haven't the foggiest.

Mm...

Well, I don't know about the rest
of you, but I could do with a beer.

Hey, what say we show a bit
of solidarity with Catherine

and go and have a drink at her place?

Actually, sir, I should get
over to my mum's friend's house.

She'll be home now. But
I might pop along later.

Ah, yes, of course. You go
and do that. Dwayne, JP?

You know what, sir? I
think that is a great idea.

What do you think, Dwayne?

Show Catherine a bit of solidarity?

Um, yes. Of course.

Solidarity. I'm all for that.

Great.

Ah, Catherine. There you
are. Good to see you.

- You're bearing up?
- I am.

People have been very kind and
come out to show their support.

Don't worry, Catherine.

We're trying to find
out where it came from.

I have someone at the
newspaper digging around.

Thank you, Dwayne.

You're all such good friends.

These are on me as a thank you.

Ah, that's very kind of you,
Catherine. To good friends.

To good friends.

Oh! That's got a bit of a kick to it.

Wait. You never tried any
of the local rums before?

I'm not usually a rum drinker,
to be honest with you, Dwayne.

Not yet...

So, are you any closer to finding
out who k*lled Victor Pearce?

Well, we're not quite
there yet, Catherine.

But we're making good progress.

I can only imagine how hard
this is for you with everything

that's been said in the papers and all.

But I'm going to find out who
did this, it's a promise.

Morning.

You all right there, JP?

I'm fine, sir. I just can't
quite make sense of something.

Oh, yeah? What is it?

OK, so I'm going through Victor
Pearce's appointments diary

and cross-referencing it with his journal.

Now, he makes notes from
all his meetings in there.

You know, writes in action plans.
The man cross-references everything.

I'm sensing a "but" coming.

Well, there is, sort of.

See, last Tuesday in his
diary there's an appointment,

"Paradise Bay Hotel. 7pm. Room 303."

But there's no references
of what it was about

or who he was going to meet or anything.

- No notes anywhere else?
- No. Nothing.

Hm. OK.

Well, why don't you both head over
to the hotel and see if anyone knows

- what he was doing there?
- Yes, sir.

OK. Thank you.

Sarge.

Dwayne.

- Morning, Florence.
- Morning, sir.

So, how did you get on with
your mum's friend last night?

Did she have anything interesting
to say about Edwina Bousquet

and Victor Pearce's
time together at school?

Better than interesting.

Edwina Bousquet and Victor Pearce
were high school sweethearts.

Never!

This was taken on a field trip.

This is Edwina, and Victor, here.

They were dating for about six
months before they graduated.

At which point, Victor
ended it between them.

Apparently, he was so focused on
setting up his first business,

he said he didn't have
time for a relationship.

Now, that I can believe.

It seems she was broken-hearted.
She'd never had a boyfriend before.

Her parents were very
religious, very strict,

so it was the first time she'd
experienced anything like that.

First love is a powerful thing, Florence.

And the sad thing is, he was
her first love, and her last.

There's never been anyone since.

So, all those years ago,

Victor Pearce broke Edwina's heart...

.. and she's still hurting now.

They are looking lovely, Miss Bousquet.

- I do my best for the church, Inspector.
- I'm sure you do.

And I bet you no-one ever
thanks you for it, do they?

I had an aunt once, exactly
the same. Oh, yeah.

The unsung hero of her parish.

So much so that when she went
abroad for the first time

on her 60th birthday, the
church didn't know what hit it.

I assume you're here
for a reason, Inspector,

aside from sharing
stories about your aunt.

You've seen through me, Miss Bousquet.

There are actually a couple of
questions that we have to ask.

- Would you mind terribly?
- You have your job to do.

We've been doing a bit of
digging about Victor Pearce

and we've come across this photo.

It shows you and Victor
together. Were you close?

I know it was a long way
back, but we do have to ask.

We were companions for a short while.

Six months, if that.

And what was your relationship
like in more recent times?

- We didn't have one.
- Nothing at all?

The occasional "good
morning". Nothing more.

That's very sad, isn't it?

Two people this close, then all
these years later, reduced to

exchanging the odd pleasantry.

It's what happens, Inspector. People
move on from things very quickly.

He has a very kind face
doesn't he? In that photo.

He was nothing like the man he became.

He was warm and caring back then.

He showed an interest
in me when many didn't.

Uptight church girl.

He saw something in me and brought it out.

We know he ended things suddenly,
to concentrate on his business?

That's something only he would know.

If the point of these questions
is to find out whether or not

he hurt me, the answer is yes. Terribly.

But I am a Christian woman,
Inspector, and while I may not

be able to forget how he hurt me,

I can forgive.

Do you think I k*lled him?

I don't see how, if I recall,
you were in the store cupboard

- when it happened.
- Yes, I was.

We're just trying to paint
a picture, nothing more.

Sorry to have disturbed you.

Inspector?

Not after me, were you?

No, Reverend. I think we're
done here for now, thank you.

Excuse me. I'd better take this.

- Hello?
- Actually, I'm glad I caught you.

The last few days have rather
taken their toll on the parish

so we're holding a prayer
service this afternoon.

- You're both, of course, invited.
- That's very good of you.

- And we'll do our best to make it.
- Lovely.

Sir, that was Dwayne.

- He and JP think they
might have a lead. - Great.

So, what have we got?

Well, me and JP spoke to the receptionist

about Victor Pearce's meeting
here at the hotel last Tuesday.

So she checked the booking
system and room 303

was reserved by a woman
called Verity Browning.

- So Victor was meeting a woman here?
- That's what we assumed.

But we thought we'd double check
and have a look at the CCTV

- outside room 303.
- And what did it show?

Come and have a look.

OK, JP show them what you've got.

You see, it wasn't our victim

Miss Browning was having a liaison with.

It was Peter Baxter.

So what? Victor Pearce knew about this?

That's why he had "room
303" written into his diary.

Well, we think so, sir.

I mean, why else would he have the
exact hotel room number and time

Peter Baxter was in
there with another woman?

They were both running for
mayor, so maybe Victor threatened

to reveal the affair?

That would explain why the phone
records showed Baxter and Pearce

had been calling each other the
last week. And there's more.

I heard back from Chrissie from the
newspaper. Now, she can't be sure,

but the rumour is the person they
quoted in the Catherine story

was Peter Baxter.

He's over there, sir.

Mr Baxter, do you have a minute?

Jen, could you take over for a moment?

Shall we go inside?

Excuse the mess. It's
been a hectic few weeks.

"A vote for Peter Baxter is a
vote for integrity, a vote for

"your children's future."

Really like that, Peter. Positive
message, if ever I heard one.

73% of the adult population on this
island are married with children.

It's their voices that need listening to.

So what is it you wanted
to talk to me about?

Oh, I'm sure it's nothing,
just ticking a few more boxes.

Now, what was it?

I'm sorry, it's definitely
in here somewhere. Ah...

Oh, here it is.

Yeah, I was just wondering,
what you were doing in room 303

at the Paradise Bay last Tuesday evening.

I...

- I mean...
- Take your time.

I mean, obviously we could ask
Verity Browning, who was also there.

But we thought we'd
come to you first, Peter.

Look, if it helps to jog your memory,

we could show you some CCTV footage.

Or maybe you recall Victor Pearce

calling you about the very same thing?

- You know about that?
- We do, yes.

He told me he had photographs
of me and Verity together.

I mean, I've no idea how he knew.

I mean... we'd been discreet.

Or I thought we had.

And what was Mr Pearce threatening
to do with those photos?

What do you think?

Go to the newspapers with
them, unless I stood down

and stopped running for mayor.

Which you obviously didn't do?

I was just wondering.

Did you have another plan?

I'm sorry to disappoint you, and
as convenient as it may look,

it wasn't me that k*lled him.

Victor wasn't the only one with leverage.

What do you mean?

I told him to publish and be damned,
but if he did, that I had my own

little bit of sordid gossip
that I knew he wouldn't

have wanted getting out.

Do you mind me asking, what was that?

He's got a daughter
tucked away on the island.

Now, I mean it's not exactly
the crime of the century.

It's not as if he's married or anything.

But it would have been a
nice sh*t across the bows.

"Mayor's Secret Love Child".

And you threatened him back with this?

Fight fire with fire is what I say.

When it comes to politics,
it's every man for himself.

Mr Baxter...

Was it you who leaked the story
about Catherine being prime suspect?

I couldn't be a force for
good if I wasn't in power.

So that's what this party's all about?

Celebrating your win,

now that you've well and truly
scuppered Catherine's chances?

If there's nothing else you need
to speak to me about, Inspector,

I really should be
getting back to my guests.

Why would he do something like that?

I mean, Catherine saw him as a friend.

- Because he's a low-down dirty snake.
- Well, that's politicians for you.

OK, what do you say? One last cr*ck.

See if we can't solve
this case? Five suspects,

all of them have a motive
of one kind or another.

And all them have denied that
those motives were enough

to drive them to m*rder.

Peter Baxter.

While he was being threatened by
Victor Pearce, he had the means

to thr*aten him right back.

Edwina Bousquet. She was once
in love with Victor Pearce.

He broke her heart, but she
insists she forgave him.

Kemar Pearce claims his father would
never have carried out his thr*at

to cut him off financially.

And as for the Dawsons, do we really
believe a clergyman and his wife

would commit m*rder simply to
save funding for their orphanage?

And that's without even having a clue

how the m*rder actually took place.

Oh, yay, yay, yay, yay. Hm.

Reverend Dawson was back at his desk.

Peter Baxter was in the opposing booth.

Kemar Pearce was right next door.

Edwina Bousquet was in the storeroom,

and Judith Dawson was
just outside it, here.

And all of them can prove they
were where they say they were

when the Kn*fe was thrust
into Victor Pearce's back.

So just how did the k*ller manage
to do it without anyone else

in the room seeing it?

- But it has to have been one of them.
- Yes, it did.

- Sir?
- Mm?

The church service, we said we'd go.

Oh, yes, so we did,
yeah. Might do us good.

Clear the heads. OK.

Right, lads, keep at it. Thank you.

Yes, sir.

You know what, JP?

I think you're right, you know.

I think maybe Catherine IS
the best woman for the job.

We can't have Peter
Baxter running our island.

Well, there's nothing we
can do about it now, Dwayne.

When they hold the election, he'll
probably win, just because of

the damage he's done to
Catherine's reputation.

Well, then maybe someone
should level the playing field.

What do you mean?

Where are those images of
him and Verity Browning?

Ah.

Here.

What are you going to do with them?

I'm going to see how Peter Baxter
likes being played at his own game.

I'd like to us to begin
this prayer service

by singing hymn number 125.

Come on, then.

♪ Praise my soul The king of heaven

♪ To his feet thy tribute bring

♪ Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven

♪ Who like me His praise should sing

♪ Hallelujah... ♪

Florence. I need you to come with me.

Storage cupboard.

Polling booth. OK.

Ballot box.

Florence, would you
mind doing me a favour?

- Could you go and stand in the
booth Victor was in? - Mm-hm.

Now, the fan wasn't working,

and there was no pen in that booth,

so Reverend Dawson handed Victor one.

Right. Catherine was in here.

Yes, legs visible there. And
that's when Victor was stabbed.

Mm-hm.

Right...

Excuse me, there's no pen in this booth.

'I went and handed it to him.'

I'm sure I put one in there.

That only leaves one person...

Catherine Bordey!

She could've leaned out
and stabbed him then.

Fight fire with fire is what I say.

Urgh!

It couldn't be... Could it?

It's a stretch,

- but it's the only thing that
explains it. - Explains what?

The how. And maybe the who.

I think we might have to
curtail Reverend Dawson's

prayer service a little.

If I go and do that, would
you nip off to the orphanage?

- There's something I'd
like you to find. - Yes, sir.

- What?
- A long-lost secret.

Siobhan, what are you doing here?

- I called the station. JP said you
were heading this way. - Right, I see.

I wanted to talk to you.

I've been thinking about what
you said. About us staying here,

- permanently.
- OK.

- And I think we should.
- Really?

I've been thinking over it in my head,

and I think... I think Mum
would've really liked it here.

And that kind of makes me happy.
So, yeah, I think we should stay.

That's just great. That's brilliant news.

And I think we should go and
celebrate and let everyone know.

But there's something I really
need to go and do first.

What's that?

Catch a k*ller.

Two days ago, at ten
o'clock in the morning,

polling opened for the election
of Saint Marie's next mayor.

Only a minute later, one of the
three candidates had been m*rder*d.

A Kn*fe thrust viciously into his
back while he was casting his vote.

Which left us asking, not
just who did it, and why,

but how did they manage to do it?

There were six other people in
the community centre that day.

All of you, apart from Catherine,
were able to provide an alibi

for the time at which
Victor Pearce was stabbed.

Reverend Dawson, you were at your desk.

Mr Pearce and Mr Baxter were
in their respective booths.

Ms Bousquet, you'd gone to the storeroom,

and Mrs Dawson, you were just outside it.

And all of you had one other person
who could vouch for where you were

at the time of the m*rder.

Whereas Catherine, here, not only
had no alibi, she also had the means

of committing the m*rder, being in
the booth right next to the victim.

But it wasn't Catherine
who k*lled Victor Pearce.

Then who was it?

Ah, straight to the point, Miss Bousquet,

you know I like that about you.

I appreciate your directness. Thank you.

And in answer to your question...

.. it was you.

You m*rder*d Victor Pearce.

Don't be absurd. How could I have done it?

I was in the storeroom the whole time.

Judith will vouch for me, won't you?

I'm sure she will.

Because, here's the thing.

She was in cahoots with you.

Your accomplice.

- Isn't that right, Judith?
- No!

This is ridiculous, Inspector.

Do you really think Edwina and
Judith plotted together to k*ll

Victor Pearce?

I do, Reverend, yeah. Sorry.

But let me just run past you
what I think happened that day.

On the morning of the
m*rder, two things occurred.

A fan stopped working
and a pen went missing.

Now was all this just chance? Or
was it all part of a bigger plan?

The night before the election was
due to take place, we know Reverend

and Mrs Dawson spent the evening

preparing the community
centre for polling.

But while you were there, Mrs Dawson,

I think you laid the ground

for what was to take
place the next morning.

First, you made sure the fan
on Edwina's desk wouldn't work.

Two, when you were putting out
the pens in the polling booths,

you made sure that one of the booths
near to the desk marked "Honore"

didn't have a pen in it.

Then, thirdly, we assume
that you planted the Kn*fe

which was later used to k*ll
Victor somewhere in the storeroom.

That done, everything was in place.

You and you were both
ready to commit m*rder.

You knew exactly which desk
Victor Pearce would go to

to collect his ballot paper.

Like Catherine, he's an Honore
resident. So he would go the desk

- Matthew was manning.
- Victor Pearce. 14, Rue de Taranne.

Which is why you removed the
pen from the booth that you did.

It was only natural for Victor, when
he arrived at the polling station,

to turn and walk towards one of the
booths on his side of the room.

So you knew that Victor would
end up in one of the two booths.

It didn't really matter
which of the two he went in.

All you needed was for him or
Catherine to ask Reverend Dawson

for a spare pen so that he
would have to leave his desk.

You see, when the candidates started
arriving at the polling station,

Miss Bousquet began her charade,

complaining that her fan wasn't
working, and supposedly going

to the storeroom to fetch another one.

I can't be expected to sit
in this heat without a fan.

And once there, I believe
that you recovered the Kn*fe.

And at the same time, you
were still making a fuss,

saying that you couldn't find
what it was you were looking for.

Where is the fan?

Which then gave you, Judith,
an excuse to go and help her

- to find it. - She was
struggling, so I went to help.

And then when everybody had pulled
the curtains on their booths,

Edwina, I think you took that Kn*fe...

and you left the storeroom

and waited out of sight of everybody else.

Meanwhile, Judith, you pretended
to continue telling Edwina

where she could find the
fan she was looking for,

so that everyone would hear and
assume that's what was happening.

- The fan is on the top shelf.
- When in fact, all you were doing

was talking to an empty storeroom.

You could be heard, but not seen.

Unlike at the church,
when the opposite was true.

At the same time, Victor was
discovering that he had no pen

in his booth.

So obviously he popped his head
out and asked Reverend Dawson

- to pass him one... - There's
no pen in this booth. - Sorry.

.. which is when you had your
window of opportunity to k*ll him.

When Reverend Dawson was walking
back to his desk, his back

to the room, you had a couple of
seconds to move swiftly towards

Victor's booth, lift the
curtain and s*ab him.

Stick that Kn*fe in his back,

unnoticed by anybody else in the room.

All you had to do was return to
the storeroom, pick up the fan.

And then wait for Victor's
m*rder to be discovered.

Oh, my God.

Dad!

You assumed that nobody would think
it was anybody else in the room.

How could it be? You relied
on these people concluding

that it was an intruder who'd got
in through the front entrance.

But what you didn't
take into consideration

was that our commissioner,

in his infinite wisdom, insisted
on a police presence that morning,

which meant that Officer Myers
here was stationed outside

the building the whole time,

bearing witness to the fact
that nobody came in or out of the

community centre when
Victor Pearce was k*lled.

So our m*rder*r had to be one
of the six people in the room.

In the end, it could only be
Judith Dawson or Edwina Bousquet.

More crucially, one couldn't
have done it without the help

- of the other. - But why? Why
would they do such a thing?

You're right, Reverend.

It's a fair question, and one
that had me pretty stumped,

to be honest with you.

Edwina, you said yourself
that while Victor had hurt you,

it was a long time ago.

It didn't really make sense for
you to suddenly want the man dead

after all these years.

But, Judith,

I think you had more reason
to want Victor Pearce k*lled.

Despite running the orphanage, you
were never able to have children

yourself, were you?

That's not to say you that you
and Reverend Dawson didn't try.

I get the impression that you both
really wanted a family, didn't you?

It never quite happened for us.

And bringing up these three
children in your care,

these past few years,
just you and your husband.

I mean, that's about as close
as you can get to having

a proper family.

And with Victor predicted to win the
election and become mayor, I think

there was little doubt that he would
have closed down the orphanage

and those three delightful
children that you loved

would've been shipped
off to another island.

I don't think you could let that happen.

Which brings us back to the big
question. Why k*ll Victor together?

As I said, you couldn't have done it
alone, without Miss Bousquet's help.

But why would she help you to
k*ll the man that she once loved?

There had to be something we were missing.

Something that connected you both.

Another motive, something
hidden. Something darker.

And then it clicked.

Judith, you were an orphan
here yourself, weren't you,

when you were a baby?

That got me thinking.

Your parents, your mother and
father, they must've been here

in the island when you were born.

But who were they?

Who were these people?

Mr Baxter, you told us about a
rumour you heard saying that

Victor Pearce had a daughter
that nobody knew about.

- I don't suppose you happen to
know who she is, do you? - No.

I'd heard he'd got a girl pregnant
and wanted nothing to do with her.

That was about it.

Well, we know of one girl he
abandoned already, don't we?

Edwina.

We know that Victor broke your
heart. You admitted as much.

But what you neglected to tell us
was that, despite what you said,

he didn't just suddenly leave to go
and start his own business, did he?

Something happened.

He left because you were pregnant.

And I assume you being in love
with him, and a Christian woman,

wanted to marry and keep the baby.

But that's not how Victor saw it, is it?

He had a career to build.

Edwina, I can only imagine
how difficult it was for you.

The shame that a young
girl would be made to feel

in such a devout and
strict religious home.

Are you saying Judith
is Edwina's daughter?

Yes. Yes, I am.

And Victor Pearce was her father.

It's all in here.

They are the original records...

.. which Judith was perfectly
placed to keep hidden.

I'm... I'm so sorry.

Judith,

I think you turned to Edwina
for help. To your mother.

She saw how much those
children meant to you.

She saw someone who, like
herself all those years ago,

faced losing the children that she loved,

all because of Victor Pearce.

History, as they say,
was repeating itself.

And I think it was then, Edwina,
that you decided to help Judith.

And with Victor's impending
election as mayor almost guaranteed,

it had to be soon.

But where, and how?

You said that Victor, he was
never one for meeting people

that he didn't have to.

He was a hard man to
make an appointment with.

So your opportunity to
commit m*rder, it was limited.

That's why you chose polling day.
The one day he was sure to be here,

in your parish, giving
you the limited chance

that you needed to k*ll him.

That's why it happened when it
did, where it did and how it did.

I'm sorry we have to do this.

Dwayne, JP,

could you please arrest
Miss Bousquet and Mrs Dawson?

I'm not sure how you worked it all
out, but that was brilliant, sir.

No, no, no. Don't be
silly. It was team work.

Well, we are very lucky you were here.

- Right, so that's Mrs Dawson and
Miss Bousquet locked up. - Yep.

Good stuff. Thank you, Dwayne, JP.

Florence, are you OK to finish up here?

Of course. You want to get home?

Actually, I need to pay a
visit to your commissioner.

Do you want to take the Jeep?

Do you know what? I
fancy stretching my legs.

See you later. Catherine's Bar.

Well, this is very good news, isn't it?

Do we know what happened?
Peter Baxter just stood down?

Well, sir.

Um, apparently, he wants to
spend more time with the family.

Really? And do we know what
prompted this change of heart?

No idea.

- Ah, Sarge. - So, sir.
Siobhan just told me the news,

that you've decided to
stay here, permanently.

Yeah, we have indeed. And
you know what this means?

Like it or not, you're lumped with me.

- Oh! - Well, I for
one am delighted, sir.

- Me too. - Yes. Me
three, sir. - And me!

Ah. Silver Flame!

Well, I know I can overdo
it a bit on the toasting.

But if ever there was an
occasion to raise a glass,

I think this is it. What do you say?

- To us. - To us. - To you. - To me.

Now, if you don't mind, I think it's time

for some world-class dad dancing.

Siobhan, you're on.

- Madame Mayor...
- Oh!