I can't think why you don't
teach it in police colleges.
So you think it's Rusk, do you?
You think he's our man?
Well, of course. Anyone can see that.
He knew both: Mrs Blaney...
...and that Barbara what's-her-name.
- Yes.
Well, there you are.
You told me the man's a sexual pervert.
That's why he kept the clothes
and put them in Mr Blaney's case.
We have no proof of that.
It stands to reason.
Don't you mean intuition?
What does your intuition tell you
I want for dinner tonight?
Steak and a baked potato.
But you're getting
pied de porc a la mode de Caens.
- It looks like a pig's foot.
- That's what it is.
I put it in the same sauce
the French use for tripe.
That's comforting.
Well, when are you going to arrest...
...this Mr Robinson, or Rusk,
or whatever he's called?
When I have the proof I need.
It takes longer than intuition.
- When will you have it?
In a few minutes I hope, dear.
Really?
You old slyboots. Tell.
Well...
...we know that if Rusk is the murderer,
he traveled up in a potato truck
with his victim.
How do we know that?
Did you ever hear of a corpse
that cut itself out of a tied sack?
What would he want to take
the corpse out of the sack for?
Obviously he was looking for something.
How do we know that?
The corpse was deep in rigor mortis.
He had to break the fingers of the
right hand to obtain what they held.
(Cracking)
It would be so nice to get back
to plain bread in this house.
What do you think they held?
A locket? A broach? A cross.
It had to be something
that would incriminate him.
Something that he missed
when he put the body on the truck.
A monogrammed handkerchief, perhaps.
Not a cross, I think.
Well...
I don't see why not.
Religious and sexual
mania are closely linked.
Anyway, whatever it was, he found it,
which was unlucky for us.
But we did have one piece of good fortune.
The truck driver told us that he
stopped at one place on his journey,
and that was at a pull-in
somewhere out of London.
A pull-in?
- Hmm.
It's a... cafe frequented
by truck drivers, dear.
They serve humble foods
like bacon and egg sandwiches,
sausages and mashed potatoes
and cups of tea and coffee.
How is it so fortunate
that this driver stopped there?
It's not so much that he stopped,
but that he stopped
only once that is important.
The only place our man coulďve
got out of the truck was at that cafe.
I sent Sergeant Spearman to see...
...if he could find anyone who
could remember Rusk being there.
I'm expecting him back at any minute.
Well, eat up, dear. You'll want
to be finished by the time he arrives.
Tasty, very tasty.
Not a lot of meat on it, mind.
No sense in gorging, dear.
I'll take mine and eat it while I'm
beating my eggs for the soufflé.
(Doorbell Rings)...
Good evening, Sergeant.
- Good evening, sir.
- Am I interrupting your dinner?
- No, not at all. Come in.
Thank you, sir.
- Put your hat and coat on the sofa.
Good evening, Sergeant Spearman.
What would you like to drink?
Good evening, madam. I don't know that I...
Oh, that's alright. You're off duty.
How about a Margarita? It's delicious.
Tequila, triple sec,
fresh lemon juice and... salt
pressed 'round the rim of the glass.
You'll love it.
- Thank you, madam.
Sergeant Spearman, you are positively
glutinous with self-approbation.
You might as well speak out.
- Yes, sir.
The woman behind the
counter at the cafe...
...positively identified Rusk
from the photo I showed her...
...as being a man who was at the cafe
the night the body was discovered.
And that's not all.
Are you waiting for a drumroll?
- No, sir. Sorry, sir.
The woman also said that Rusk was
dishevelled and very dusty,
and asked to borrow a clothes brush.
This is the brush she lent him, sir.
You see there?
- (Sniffs)
What do you say, Spearman? Potato dust?
Here you are, Sergeant.
Cheers.
Cheers, madam.
- Did you hear all that?
Yes, I told you. I knew all the time.
- (Oxford) Quite.
Get this down to the lab quickly.
- Very good, sir.
It rather looks like we put
the wrong man away this time.
What do you mean 'we'? You put him away.
All right, Spearman, you can go.
- Good night, madam.
You haven't finished your drink.
I'm sorry. I have to get
down to the lab in a hurry.
Good night, Spearman. Good work.
Very good work.
- Thank you, sir.
Poor Mr Blaney. You've got
to get him out, Tim, immediately.
He's in hospital at the moment.
I'll talk to the assistant
commissioner in the morning...
...and get the case reopened.
He won't like it, but there's
quite enough evidence for a pardon.
Will they give him any compensation?
I expect they'll give him some money,
but there's no real way
to compensate in cases like these.
Poor man.
I think the least you can do is ask
him 'round for a really good dinner.
Let's see.
It will obviously have
to be something substantial.
I think a Caneton aux cerises.
What's that?
- Duckling...
...with heavy sweet cherry sauce.
After that jail food he's been having,
I expect he'll eat anything.