Midsomer Murders S10E05 56) Death and Dust

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Barnaby and Jones are called to investigate a series of murders involving a pair of feuding families. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0118401/episodes?season=10

So, my fellow footsloggers,
this is the plan.

We make an early start from Causton,
and have lunch here,

at Beddgelert.

Then we drive to Gorffwysfa,

and ascending by the Miner's Track,
we go past Llyn Teyrn

and Llyn Llydaw,

and then we tackle
the giant himself...

Yr Wyddfa.

I thought we were going to Snowdon.
LAUGHTER

You know the route well, Delyth.

As a girl, according to my father,
I was up and down it like a yo-yo.

So, this trip's a bit of
a pilgrimage for you, is it?

I suppose so.

Fond memories. Most of them.

I say, isn't it time someone bought
another round of drinks?

I'll do this one, Jim.
Same again, everyone?

Ooh, lovely!
Yes, please.

ALARM ENGAGES

Up and down it like a yo-yo, eh?

♪ ITALIAN ROMANTIC OPERA

Mum?

OPERA CONTINUES PLAYING

Mother?

What the hell are you doing?
Well,

if you'd like me
to spell it out to you, David.

No, I wouldn't.

How long...? When...?
MUSIC STOPS

I'm appalled.

Good job you weren't here
two minutes ago, then.

We've been rumbled, my darling.

So perhaps we'd better
clean up our act.

Will you marry me?
No!

I wasn't asking you, David,
I was asking your mother.

Will you?
What a good idea.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Yes?
'Bryn, it's Delyth.'

Del, sweet girl! How are you?
Fine.

Bryn, I've got some news.

I'm getting married again.
'What?'

Married.

Well, you were always one
for surprises, Del.

Who's the lucky man?

His name's James Kirkwood.

Bryn, break my news to Huw for me,
will you?

'I'm a bit anxious
about how he'll take it.'

Morning, Megan.
Mother, could we have a word?

In private.

Del?

Bryn, I'll call you later.
HANGS UP

Mum, you and James Kirkwood?
What the hell is going on?

You know,
or you wouldn't be in a state.

I am not in a state!

But who could blame me if I were?
However,

I am thinking of selling this place

and going off round the world
with him.

You can't do that!
David and I grew up here!

You grew up in Caernarfon, Meg!

Look...I manage the practice,

which gives me an insight
into the kind of man he his.

You're not the first girlfriend
he's had since his wife died.

Good.
I'm glad he's kept his hand in.

Mother, six months from now
he'll be bored stiff of you!

With me, dear, not of.
Bored WITH me.

Only he won't be.

What about Dad?
Does he come into this?

We have been separated for 12 years.

Who'd have thought that simply
getting married would upset people?

Talking of which,
you must tell Dottie.

Right.

I'll put some clothes on first
though, shall I?

(CHUCKLES)

Oh. Beware of daughters
bearing gifts.

We have come to reason with you
about the patio.

All right, reason away.

Well, it's just not big enough, Tom.
And, deep down inside, you know it.

Joyce, there's nothing wrong
with that patio

that a smaller table wouldn't cure.

All it needs is a few more slabs.

Eight that way, five this,
to be precise.

And now is just the time of year
to do it.

It won't take us long.
Us? Oh, I like the sound of "us."

Yes, all right, we'll help.

It'll take an hour at most.
You, me, Mum, Saturday morning.

So soon.

The sooner it's done,
the sooner it's history.

What about the wildlife?

Come on, girls! Come on!

Oh!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Jim! Lovely to see you!

How are you, Dottie?
Fine. Mwah!

Unless you know different. (LAUGHS)

Well, are you just popping in
on your way home? Yes.

Cup of tea?

My favourite one of her.

Mine, too. And I like...I like
that one, the two of you together.

God, was I ever that young?
(LAUGHS)

How are the children?

Well, don't they write to you,
phone occasionally?

They're 23 and 25 years old, Jim,
of course they don't.

Yes, well, last time I heard,
they were fine.

Dorothy, I'm...
I'm getting married again.

Well...that's er...that's good,
that's good.

Who to?

Delyth Mostyn.

Oh, yes, yes.
Yes, of course. Delyth.

I'm sure she'll make you
an excellent wife.

Congratulations.

The shock of seeing them
in that state!

You mean...actually at it?

It's strange how you never think
of your own mother...

Anyway, the real problem is
she's selling up.

Spending the family money.
Our inheritance, if you like.

Inheritance? Doesn't she have to be
dead for that?

What he means is, she may need
that money for herself later on.

Well, isn't there some huge piece of
land in North Wales or somewhere

worth a few bob?

I thought she owned that 50-50
with her cousin?

Half a pile of slate waste,
you mean?

Yeah, Bryn's offered her
500 quid an acre for it.

She was gonna lend you the proceeds
to expand your business.

If she wants to cash in and go
round the world, good luck to her.

But with Jim Kirkwood?
He's a doctor.

He'll look after her.

There are rumours about him
at the surgery.

What, about the girlfriends?
Everyone knows about them.

Some people say
he pushed his wife over the edge.

From now on, every time
Mum catches a cold, we'll worry.

About her, or about the money?

Both.

Point is,
what are we gonna do about it?

DOG BARKS

Congratulations!
Congratulations, Jim!

Congratulations!
I couldn't let it pass, Jim. Sorry.

Thanks, George. Good to see you.

You really are a dark horse, Jim.

None of us guessed.

Everyone,
a toast to Dr James Kirkwood

and his intended, Mrs Delyth Mostyn.
Absolutely.

ALL: Cheers!
Thank you very much.

Megan, a glass of bubbly.
I've nothing to celebrate.

Come on. Two of the nicest people
in the world have found each other,

we should be happy for them.
You be as happy as you like,

I've a meeting
with one of our suppliers

10 minutes from now.

Yeah, well, you can come and do
a survey if you like, Mr Price,

but it's quite a simple job, really.

Just eight slabs one way,
five the other.

ã400?!

No, that's...
Right, I'll get back to you.

Thank you.
HANGS UP

400 quid for one hour's work!

Who do these people think they are,
eh?

There's a Mrs Hutton
wants to see you.

Oh, is there?

Right. Um... We'll go down.

Ah, Mrs Hutton.
How nice to see you again.

Likewise, Inspector.
Shall we come through? Thank you.

There. Sit you down. There.

So, I hear the Midsomer Ramblers
are doing The Ridgeway.

Next Sunday, yes?

By way of a warm-up for something
far more ambitious. Snowdon.

Oh! Oh, well, the Barnabys
will do The Ridgeway all right,

but not Snowdon, I'm afraid.
Thank you.

So,

what can I do for you?

I've had a bit of news,

and I don't know whether
it's good or bad.

So I decided to let you
be the judge.

My son-in-law, James,
is getting married again.

Well, that's good news, surely.

Doesn't that rather depend
upon your concept of time?

Ah. I see what you mean.

Er... Mrs Hutton's daughter, Sarah,

she died four years ago.

Don't get me wrong,
I've nothing against Delyth Mostyn.

Her first husband was violent
and brutish,

and James is anything but,
so good luck to her.

However, when Sarah was in
the final stages of her illness,

Delyth was always there
for James to lean on.

Look,
I know this is hardly evidence,

but there was my Sarah

holding onto
the last threads of life,

hoping for a miracle,

and there was Delyth,
recently divorced,

with greedy children.

And now, just four years later,
wedding bells.

Now doesn't that strike you
as noteworthy?

Mrs Hutton...

..when I looked into
the circumstances of Sarah's death,

I found nothing.
Nothing at all that was untoward.

She died before her time!
Yes, she did.

But James was nowhere near
her bedside at the time of her death.

So, I'm wrong, then.

This marriage should give us
no cause for concern.

No.

RUMBLE OF THUNDER

Al, I've just had a call
from Dorothy Hutton.

What's wrong?
Aches and pains, nothing serious.

But all the same,
you agreed to pop in on her.

I've got a Parish Council meeting
in 10 minutes, Red Lion.

Oh, Jim!
Tell you what,

take the new motor. You've been
dying to take it for a spin. Done.

Thanks, Al. I won't forget it.
You won't be allowed to.

RUMBLE OF THUNDER

DISENGAGES ALARM

STARTS ENGINE

STARTS ENGINE

THUNDERCLAP

(HUMS)

THUNDERCLAP

All right, Jones?

The victim's name
is Dr Alan Delaney, sir.

36 years old, from Midsomer Market.

He's a friend of Mr Bullard.

Oh, yeah, of course. Kath Bullard's
a partner in the same practice.

And?
Well,

it looks like a branch of a tree
came down during the storm

and fell across the road
as Delaney was approaching.

He would have slammed on the brakes,
but not in time.

We're guessing he got out of the car
to inspect the damage.

Now...look at these marks.

We think there was a second vehicle
behind him.

I reckon the driver
put his foot down,

swerved into Delaney,
and sent him flying.

It's a definite swerve, isn't it?

What do you think? Spur-of-the-moment
job or pre-planned?

Well, you can't plan for a tree to
fall just as your victim reaches it.

No, but you can grab the opportunity
if it does.

Mm.

And this car...belongs
to a Dr James Kirkwood.

Small world, eh?

George.

A friend of yours. I'm so sorry.

A nicer chap
you couldn't wish to meet.

First-rate doctor, too.

He broke his neck in the fall.

Tell you more later.
Not that I'll be doing the PM.

No, no, of course not.

George, we're not sure this is
entirely straightforward.

Tom, it's a classic case!

It's a rainy night,

you hit something, you get out of
the car to inspect the damage,

and wallop.
Right. Yes, I'm sure.

Well, look, you er...finish up here
and I'll catch up with you later.

Yes.

Kath, are you OK?

Just about. Have you seen George?

Yes. He's all right. He's coping.

Oh.

Inspector, good to see you again.

I just wish it were under
different circumstances.

Come through.
Thank you. This is DS Jones.

Good morning.

Sir, Dr Delaney
was driving your car last night.

Why? Why was that?

I lent it to him, to see a patient
after surgery, half seven-ish.

We're a bit old-fashioned here,
still do our own call-outs.

How well did you know Dr Delaney?

Well, you work with a man every day,

you get to know each other
pretty well.

So, if he'd had any problems,
he would have confided in you.

I'd like to think so, yes.

We're not sure that his death
was an accident.

What sort of enemies
might a doctor have?

What makes you think we have any?

Well, patients sometimes think
they've been er...let down,

that you could have done things
differently - sooner, better.

Has Alan Delaney
made any slip-ups lately?

Al was one of the finest
young doctors I've ever met.

Full stop.

So what's the plan, sir? Get
our hands on the patient records?

No, you leave the patient side of it
to me. I want the murder weapon.

Whatever car, truck or bus it was
that hit him.

You find out about Delaney's past,
will you?

FOOTSTEPS ABOVE

Sorry.

Causton CID.
I'd never have guessed (!)

Yeah, well, that'll be
the impenetrable disguise (!)

Were you round here
about seven o'clock last night?

Do me a favour!
How about earlier in the day?

See anybody hanging about here?

As a matter of fact,
there was someone, yeah.

In a pick-up. Parked just out there.

Did you get the number, Mr...?
Roberts.

No, no,
it was up to its gunnels in mud.

When I clocked the driver, he er...
he shot off.

Came back about half an hour later,
parked in the same place,

sat in the truck.
Did you get a good look at him?

No, not really.
What colour was the truck?

I just told you. Mud.

Thank you.

So which one of the million pick-ups
in the country is it?

And don't say...
The muddy one. No.

Hiya.
OK?

It makes it seem kind of real,
doesn't it, the sign going up?

What's wrong?
I had a photo.

Here in the side pocket.

One of you.

It's gone.

Kathy!
Tom, hi.

He's round at the pub.
I know he is.

This is for you.

By way of a bribe.

Ah.

What Jim told you was right.

Alan was a first-rate doctor,

an uncomplicated man,
no family, no ties.

And what about Dr Kirkwood himself?

He's a great senior partner
and a good friend.

I'm not surprised
Delyth Mostyn's in love with him.

And how did things stand, you know,
between Dr Kirkwood and Dr Delaney?

Al and Jim were friends.

But four years ago,
they did fall out.

It's the curse of self-funding.

I mean, we're doctors, not bankers.

And come the audit, we discovered
that ã30,000 was missing.

That's a hefty sum.
Yes.

Did it ever turn up?
No.

But for some reason,

Jim thought it must have been Al
who'd taken it.

He had debts, you see.
What sort of debts?

Medical school, Tom. Student loans.

So if he didn't take it, who did?

We decided to treat it
as a clerical error.

Jim accepted that,
and he and Al made up.

I'm only telling you this because
you'll find out afterwards.

That patient Dr Delaney
was going to visit last night. Mm?

Who was it?

Dorothy Hutton. Jim's mother-in-law.

Really?

Then why didn't Dr Kirkwood
go himself?

He was going to
a Parish Council meeting.

He asked Alan to step in.

And lent him his brand-new motor
to make the journey in?

Get his number.
Yeah.

Oh! Looks like we'll have to walk.

What's that smell?

Llamas.
Llamas?

GUNSHOT

GUNSHOT

GUNSHOT

GUNSHOTS

Whoa!

(GROANS) Oh. Good day, Sergeant.

Caught anyone yet?
I'm afraid not, no.

Poor Alan.

Er... The man we saw leaving
in the pick-up...

Oh, what, Jason? Jason Slater.

Lives with Delyth Mostyn's daughter,
Megan.

Does some odd jobs for me every now
and again. He's a good worker.

He re-laid a path for me recently.

What sort of path?
Paving slabs.

Very reasonable price, too.
Paving slabs?

Er... How well do you know
Dr Delaney?

Better than most. He rented from me
when he first moved into the area.

He was a nice lad.

So you share the popular opinion,
I take it,

that no-one could have had a reason
to kill him.

Yes, I most certainly do.

You called Dr Kirkwood a couple
of hours before the murder.

Did you know he had
a council meeting?

No. No, and he must have forgotten.
He said he'd pop in on his way home.

But he sent Delaney.
Yes.

Yes,
and that probably saved Jim's life.

Who knows? Oh! Excuse me.

Thank you, Inspector.

What exactly are you shooting at?
Rats, Sergeant.

This makes nine today.

(CHUCKLES)

Not bad, eh?

Top of my list, check the barmy old
bat's got a licence for that thing.

She's not a barmy old bat, Jones.

She merely has a view of the world
which doesn't chime with yours.

As a matter of fact, she did say
something remarkably sane.

About Delaney going to see her
instead of Kirkwood.

"It probably saved Jim's life,"
she said.

Well, obviously, sir.

But picture the two men, will you?

Similar build, similar height.

Enough, do you think, for one
to be mistaken for the other?

It's possible.

It was night, raining. Delaney
was driving Kirkwood's car.

Yeah. Delaney has been mistaken
for Kirkwood.

You know what else?

The killer missed the first time.

He'll be back for another go,
won't he?

FOOTSTEPS CRUNCH ON GRAVEL

DIALS NUMBER

ANSWERPHONE: '..21513.

Please leave your message
after the tone.'

BEEP
Delyth, my darling, I'm on my way.

Surgery number's engaged, sir.

Well, try again.

PHONE RINGS

PHONE CONTINUES RINGING

It was an accident.
No, Doctor, it was not an accident.

A bucket of bolts
was too near the edge...

Somebody emptied it and deliberately
aimed it at your head.

We saw a figure
running from the scene,

and I believe it was the same person

who mistook Dr Delaney for you
the other night.

Now, I'm going to ask you the same
question I asked about Dr Delaney.

Have I made any slip-ups lately?

No.

And the most exciting thing about my
private life is I'm getting married.

Perhaps that's at the heart
of all this.

Who would want to stop us?
Someone does.

Inspector, I've had a photo of Jim
in my handbag side pocket.

The other day, I was in a rush,
forgot my bag, came back for it.

It was open.

I never, never leave it unzipped.

And the photo was gone?
Yes.

Right, look um...

If you've got no objections,
Mrs Mostyn,

I'd like Dr Kirkwood
to move in with you.

None whatsoever. But why?

Everybody knows where the doctor
lives. Including killers.

And if they don't, there's a sign
outside with your name on it. Yes.

I'll assign
a plain-clothes officer to you.

DC Briars could do that, sir.
Mm.

It's very kind of you,
but is it really necessary?

Doctor, you might not know who,
but somebody wants you dead.

(SIGHS DEEPLY)

Hattie.

Hi.

Thanks for coming.

Er... A cappuccino, please.
Yes, sir.

If this is about us getting back
together, I'm sorry...

No, no, I promise.

This is business.

I want you to raise a loan for me

on my shop.

(SCOFFS) Sure it is yours?

How much?

Quarter of a million.

No chance.
Just a sec, Hat.

You're missing the point.

The money would solve my problems,
certainly, but...

..wouldn't it solve yours as well?

I mean...you do have a problem.

Come on, keep up!

At least you've got a reason
to be here, Alec.

It was supposed to be my day off,

and I've been dragged along
on a family day out.

And look at those two.
Can you believe it?

60 years old!
I'm in the house with them.

I daren't open the door
in case of what they're up to.

Morning, Clifford.
Morning.

I hear somebody's been trying
to kill you! Apparently, yes.

I bet they muffed it
and got Delaney instead!

No justice in the world, is there?

There certainly isn't, or you'd
have been locked up long ago.

What's he got that I haven't?
Good manners, for a start.

Hey, stand back, please, sir.
Who the hell are you?

It's OK, Sergeant,
he's one of our members.

Police, eh?
We HAVE become important (!)

Who is that?
Clifford Rawnsley.

He's a farmer over at Morton.
He's got a bit of a thing for Del.

Keep an eye on him, Alec.

Simon, will you go and get the boys?

Tom, Mr Bullard,
I've been sent to round you up.

Coffee.
Thank you.

What's he doing here?
Cully invited him.

Oh, I see.
No, you don't, George.

You hope, as I do,
that he's just passing through.

(CHUCKLES)

Save a cup for me.

Mrs Hutton.

How's the rat population
in your neck of the woods?

Dwindling.
(CHUCKLES)

Mrs Hutton,

we now believe that Alan Delaney
was killed by mistake.

That the killer was really after
James Kirkwood.

Yes, Delyth told me.

A little while ago, you said that

you thought Delyth's children
were greedy.

Mm.
Why did you think that?

Well, take Megan, for instance.

I bet her wardrobe is 10 times
the size of your wife's.

She drives a flashy sports car,
goes abroad three times a year,

all on Health Service pay.

Yeah, but times have changed.
Salaries haven't changed.

How do you think she makes it up?

Scrounges off her mother, probably.

Now, people who have access
at the surgery health centre.

Dr Delaney, of course,
and Dr Kirkwood.

And most of...

Alan Delaney's house, sir.
We've been right through the place.

And his bank statements show
he was paying off his loan monthly.

What's this?
A diary, sir.

My old boss used to say "Never trust
a man who keeps a diary."

Why is that, sir?
Oh, Jones,

this is WPC Gail Stephens,
fresh from Bram's Hill.

She is a computer wizard,
by all accounts.

And she's going to look for that
money on the surgery computers.

And remember,
we're not meant to know about it.

Was it ever reported missing, sir?

No, it was not. They decided it was
a "clerical error."

Oh, look at that!

In my day, nurses,
health visitors, midwives,

they all drove round
in Morris Minors.

Ah, but Megan's a Practice Manager.
Practice Manager?

They didn't drive anything at all.
They didn't exist in my day.

Hello?

Anybody here? Hello?

Can I help?

Good morning.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector...

I know who you are.

Oh, do you?
Then you'll know why we're here.

Oh, Mr Slater.

Mr Slater,

Dorothy Hutton
is a great fan of yours.

I should hope so.
She treats him like hired help,

getting him to fetch and carry.

You laid a path for her, I believe.

Yeah.

Yeah, it turned out well.

I have a similar sort of job to do.
A patio.

I'd do it myself,
but for this investigation.

I'd be happy to have a look.
That's good. Thank you.

And what about you, Sergeant?

Do you want a patio laid as well?

Or are you just here to nose around?
I'm admiring the hardware.

Miss Mostyn,
how are things at the surgery

without Dr Delaney?

We're coping.

And what will happen
when Dr Kirkwood leaves,

goes off round the world
with your mother?

How do you feel about that?
Are you pleased? Anxious? What?

It's a well-run practice
with a good reputation.

There'll be no difficulty
finding replacements.

As for how I feel
about my mother and Dr Kirkwood...

..that's my business
and not yours.

Oh, Miss Mostyn,
I certainly think it is my business.

I'm trying to find out
who killed Dr Delaney,

and who would want Dr Kirkwood dead.

Is that why you're here?
You think it might be me?

I'd like to know where you were
the night Dr Delaney was killed.

Here, with Jason, watching telly.

What were you both doing the night
before last, around eight o'clock?

Here, watching telly.

You should get out more.

(SCOFFS)

Oh, er...Mr Slater. Jason.

Um...

This is where I live.

Do you think you could come round
this evening?

How about tomorrow?
I'll be at the races tonight.

Where the girls
will be making my fortune.

She's a police officer. Yeah,
a plain-clothes police officer.

Mrs Hutton.

Dottie, come in.
Jim...

What is that policewoman doing here?

Going through patients' records,
I believe.

Look, I know you're going to say
I'm being a stupid old woman.

I take it you're not here
on a health matter.

No, I'm not.

How will Delyth feel,
do you think...

..living here in the house
where you and my daughter

raised my grandchildren?

More to the point, Dottie,
how will you feel?

Uneasy. Given that you're off
traipsing round the world.

Oh, I don't know what
we're going to be doing now.

Everything's on hold
until this business

over Al's death's been sorted out.

That's what you've really
come to talk about, isn't it?

The night Sarah died,

Alan was on duty at the hospice.
Yes.

He volunteered.
He volunteered?

Well, that's very interesting.
Dottie, please.

No, I've been looking
at the wrong man.

What are you talking about?

You were nowhere near the hospice
that night, but Alan was. On duty.

And now he's dead.

And the night he died,
he was driving your car,

that you sent him out in.

And now there's a policewoman
in your surgery.

Oh, my God! You think
I might have killed him?

Dorothy, for the millionth time,
I did everything I could for Sarah.

Did you ask him to help you, Jim?
This is insane.

Did it fester
in that poor boy's conscience?

Was he threatening
to get it off his chest?

Is that why you killed him?
For God's sake,

who do you think's
been trying to kill me?

It's 200 quid, this.
I know.

Gentlemen.

Could I help you?
Ah, good morning, sir.

We're Causton CID.

Yes. Mr Barnaby, isn't it?
And DS Jones.

My sister said you might drop by.

Ah. Is business good?

Yes. Excellent.

Perhaps I could interest you
in something.

How about a nice rocker,
for those lazy, hazy days?

Don't have many of those.

Mr Mostyn, we are here
about Alan Delaney's murder.

We believe that he was mistaken

for the man
your mother plans to marry.

Yes, Megan said.

Did she?
Mm.

Then you'll have carefully remembered
where you were

the night he was killed, won't you?

Oh, at the cinema in Causton.

There was a French retrospective.

How do you feel about your mum

selling up
and going off round the world?

I'm overjoyed about it.

Isn't it all the rage -
the grey backpacker?

It's her money,
to do with as she pleases.

Who might not be so pleased
about all of this?

Your father, perhaps?

Oh, Dad lives in North Wales.

I haven't seen him in nearly a year,
but I don't see why he'd object.

They were divorced four years ago.

Yes, but they were apart
for a very long time before that.

Inspector...

..if you're looking for someone
who might have a grudge

against Dr Kirkwood...

Who?

It's a farmer.

Set his cap at Mother first week
we came here. Clifford Rawnsley.

He has something of a past
with women.

I've met him, sir.
Up at The Ridgeway.

Tea?

Thanks.
Just what the doctor ordered.

Stuff from Forensics, sir.
And precious little there is of it.

Alan Delaney - damage to the tissue
at the back of his legs

between 60 and 78 centimetres
from the ground.

Which makes these the pick-ups
which might have run him down.

And Jason Slater's among them.
Yeah, they need another day on it.

Anything on Megan Mostyn?

Debts of ã38,000.

The mortgage company are
getting restless, ditto the bank.

And the brother?

He owns the shop
and rents the house.

What about the business?

It appears to be
as good as he says it is.

And he's Mr Generosity.

Megan's sports car - he bought that
for her three years ago.

ã14,000.

We need that computer information,
don't we?

Right, Jones,
hands out of your pockets,

comb your hair, straighten your tie.
We have been summoned.

Chief Inspector, your investigation
is upsetting people.

Well, I'm sorry, Mrs Mostyn,

but er...murder tends to do that.

You've questioned my children, for
heaven's sake. Was that necessary?

Well, yes. But it was just a routine
inquiry. Nothing more than that.

And one of them...
owes a great deal of money.

So why does it follow
that she tried to kill Jim?

Well, one answer would be that the
doctor's cut off the money supply

from you to your children.

Have you, Doctor?

I've made suggestions
along those lines, yes.

We do have other suspects.
Clifford Rawnsley, for example.

Now I'm sure you never thought
of him as anything but a friend,

but did he feel the same way?

Clifford was persistent, yes.

Always asking me out, popping round

and showering me with...gifts.

What sort of gifts?

Since you ask,
joints of pork mainly.

The romantic touch (!)

You didn't find that slightly...
unnerving?

Yes, but I was a teacher.

I've handled far worse
than Clifford, kids and parents.

Of course.

Is there anything else
I can help you with?

Yes, there is, Mrs Mostyn.

You see, we have two very different
views of your ex-husband.

One from your son David,

that his dad would be very happy
for you to re-marry.

And the other,
that he is a very violent man,

who would not be so happy.

Does he know
you're getting married again?

Yes, my cousin Bryn
broke the news to him.

Bryn's a sort of guardian
to both of us.

Tell them about Huw and Clifford,
Del.

When I first came to Causton,

Clifford began pursuing me.

With joints of pork.

Megan or David must have mentioned
it to their father,

and a month later, he walked into
the pub we drank at,

uttered the immortal words,

"If I can't have you,
no-one else can,"

and wham!
Knocked poor Clifford out cold.

Not that it put him off, of course.

Morning, Mr Rawnsley.

How nice to see you...again.

We've been doing a little research,
Mr Rawnsley.

Jones.

Now,
there was a court order made in 2002

forbidding you
from going within 100 yards

of a Tracy Caroline Freeman.

That was a travesty of justice.

Ah. Another convicted criminal
who was innocent all along.

If you'll just hear me out.

Yes, I pursued her vigorously.

I wanted to make sure she knew
the depth of my feelings for her.

You were stalking her, Mr Rawnsley.

There was a court order taken out
against you and you broke it.

The judge gave you six months
for your trouble.

Suspended!
On account of the farm, I imagine,

not your previous good character.

Can you tell me about the depth
of your feelings for Delyth Mostyn?

Yes, I admire Delyth,
I don't deny it.

I desired her,
in a healthy sort of way.

Even though her husband
flattened you?

That was a lucky punch.

Now I just feel sorry for her.

Why?

She's taken up with
that ponce of a doctor.

He's had more women
than Casanova over there.

I asked Delyth to marry me,
you know.

She could have had standing
in the porcine community.

She could have had all this.

Well, I can't imagine
why she'd turn you down.

Mr Rawnsley,
can you tell me where you were

last Friday evening
between seven and eight?

I was at a pig-breeders' dinner.

Guess what was on the menu?

Come on, you're a detective.

So, where you were night before last,
round about eight o'clock?

At Morton Village Hall,
playing badminton.

That's where we met, me and Delyth.

That's where I got the rambling bug,
off her.

Listen, in spite of
all those memories,

I would never kill Jim Kirkwood.

I wouldn't give him
the satisfaction.

FOOTBALL MATCH ON TV

Hello, darling.

FOOTBALL MATCH CONTINUES ON TV

That's DC Briars.
I've put him in the study.

Given him a telly and a zed-bed.

Morning.
Morning.

Well, for you, Mr Barnaby...

nice base, all cemented in,

slabs included in the price...

Three hundred.

It's only an hour's work, isn't it?

I don't know who told you that.

Oh, it was an expert,
believe you me.

Er...Jason, before you go...

..your partner said
that Dorothy Hutton

was always getting you
to fetch and carry.

What exactly did she mean by that?

I go to the wholesalers
for her llama food.

Do a bit of building work,

I service her pick-up.

She drives a pick-up, does she?
Mm. Oh, yeah.

Like a demon.

I lent her mine once.

Came back with two dents in it,
told her to buy her own.

When did you drive hers last?
Go on, give me a break.

I know what Jim Kirkwood looks like.

OK, fine. Thanks, Jason.

We'll give you a ring
about the quote.

Right, girls. We are off to Wales.

Oh.

This patio isn't going to happen,
is it?

Well...maybe if we go...

Oh, yes, it is.

♪ CALON LAN

♪ Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus

♪ Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus

♪ Aur y byd na'i berlau man

♪ Gofyn rwyf am galon hapus

♪ Gofyn rwyf am galon hapus

♪ Calon onest, calon lan

♪ Calon lan yn llawn daioni

♪ Tecach yw na'r lili dlos

♪ Does ond calon lan all ganu

♪ Does ond calon lan all ganu

♪ Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos ♪

How does it feel to be home?

I'm as much of a stranger here
as you are, sir.

My family's from the south.

Cardiff.

It's odd. The more you stand back
from something,

the more clearly you can see it.

See that? Six!

If the Mostyn kids
are after their mother's loot,

why kill Dr Kirkwood
before the wedding?

I mean, they're not stupid.
Why not wait till after it?

When she'd have a claim
on the Kirkwood estate.

Precisely.

Oh! Seven, I think!

I fancy the husband, sir.

Can't stand men
who knock women about.

Right, best of five.

Loser drives the rest of the way.

♪ MYFANWY

♪ Pa ham mae dicter, O Myfanwy

♪ Pa ham mae dicter, O Myfanwy

♪ Yn llenwi'th lygaid duon ddi?

♪ Yn llenwi'th lygaid duon ddi?

♪ A'th ruddiau tirion, O Myfanwy...

♪ A'th ruddiau tirion, O Myfanwy...

God knows what the words mean,
but doesn't that sound magnificent?

"Why is it anger, O Myfanwy,

that fills your eyes
so dark and clear?

Your gentle cheeks, O sweet Myfanwy,

Why blush they not
when I draw near?" Etcetera.

I thought you didn't speak
the language.

I don't.

I had an uncle who used to
drive us mad with that song,

in several languages.

Well, go ask directions
to Bryn Williams' place.

And when you get them,
make sure you understand them.

Yes, sir.

INCREASES VOLUME ON STEREO

There's three stones
on the right-hand side,

the biggest painted white.
That's where we turn in.

OK.

So this is Delyth's family pile.

Half of it's hers, yeah.
And pile is right.

Of slate waste.

Not what you'd call
a thing of beauty, is it?

Mr Williams?

Mr Bryn Williams?

That's me.
Afternoon, sir.

Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby,
this is Detective Sergeant Jones,

from Causton CID.

Oh, I was expecting the Causton
contingent at the weekend.

They are still coming?
Midsomer Ramblers?

Oh, yes, I believe they are.

Sir, I'd like a chat with you,
if I may,

about your cousin Delyth's
ex-husband, Huw Mostyn.

Ah.

I expect you've been in the same
position yourself, Inspector.

Friends with both parties,
then they decide to split up.

Yes, uncomfortable, yes.

So you are Delyth Mostyn's cousin,

but what are you to Huw Mostyn?
We were at school together.

Friends ever since.

Even when they divorced?

I knew they were in trouble,
of course.

I didn't condone his behaviour.

In fact, I take some credit
for getting her to leave him.

How did Huw react to that,
you conspiring with Delyth?

Oh, flew into one of his rages.

Broke some furniture,
put his fist through a window.

Typical Huw.

Can I ask you this?

Does Huw still think of Delyth
as his wife?

In all honesty, I'd have to say yes.

Huw is now a very different man
to the one Delyth married.

Do you know what he was up to
a week ago last Friday?

Can't say I do.

We don't live
in each other's pockets.

CLANG

Well, I'm truly sorry
to hear of this man being murdered,

but why come to me about it?

The killer mistook him for the man
your ex-wife's about to marry.

This doctor, you mean.

Why is that funny?

Time was when the Williamses and
the medical profession were enemies.

A couple of local doctors signed
most of the quarry workers off

with pneumoconiosis,
whether they had it or not.

Del's uncle went out of business.

But you haven't answered
my question.

Why come to me?

"If I can't have her,
no-one else can."

Oh, right. I'm with you.

Went down like a nine-pin,
that fellow.

Mr Mostyn, where were you
Friday before last?

I was in Harlech,

repairing the castle clock.

Not between seven and nine PM,
you weren't.

Too right, my friend.

Look, if you're going to ask me
for an alibi, I can't help you.

I take it you've got a licence
for that thing. Of course.

And a secure cabinet.

But I like to keep it handy.

Mr Mostyn,
when were you last in Midsomer?

I've been to see my children
a few times.

They come to me, as a rule.
Usually when they want something.

When did you last see them?

Megan, six months ago.

She drove up here
with her new boyfriend.

To see if I was
getting my strength back.

Why? Had you been ill?
Yeah.

I had a stroke a year ago.

Not a crippler, but the left-hand
side of me still plays up.

So I gave up murdering people.

When did you see David last?

He was up here last week.
Flying visit.

Are you sure about that?

I can still recognise my own son.

What did he come for?

Oh, he wanted me to invest
in some harebrained scheme.

Quarter of a million pounds.

I said, "Boy, where am I gonna get
that sort of money?"

"The cottage."
"You can have that when I'm gone."

Just remind me why we're doing this.
You tell me, it was your idea.

So it was.

I'd just like to put a smile
on his face.

Does he ever smile?
Not on many boyfriends, no.

Father of only daughter
in one corner,

serious contender in the other.

It could get nasty.

DELYTH: Whose idea was this?

I'm not sure
what I'm more offended by,

the attempt to warn me off
or the feeble way you've done it.

"Before you make
the biggest mistake of your life,

ask James about Stella Pearson,
Rachel Davidson, Irene Hepworth,

and Caroline Black."

Well, have you?

Megan, I couldn't care less if he's
had affairs with all four of them!

Well, maybe you should care.

Maybe one of them doesn't like the
idea of you running off with him.

And after a close,
intimate relationship with him,

they murdered Al Delaney
by mistake?!

But I can take this
as concern for my welfare, can I?

Absolutely.

Right.

(SIGHS) Why doesn't someone
open a bottle of wine or something?

And, by the way,

you don't need a comma after
"Hepworth" and before "and."

Totally redundant.

Mother.

It seems like a good time for it.
For what, dear?

A confession.

You might as well all hear it.

But you're not gonna like it.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS
Oh, mine.

Barnaby.

Sir, I think I've just found
what we're looking for.

Have you? Where are you?

'The surgery.'
Meet us at the office.

I'll stop off there for a minute
on my way home.

Just as I'd hoped, sir, there was a
file that hasn't been fully deleted.

This looks like a transfer request

for ã30,000.
Where to?

Well, that's where
I'm still struggling.

"Tikamgarh chhatarpur
panna sarna collab."

It doesn't sound like a line
from Myfanwy, sir.

No, it's sweeter music than that.

Oh, Stephens!

Good work!

There you are!
Hello, Dad.

Good trip?
Not bad. Not bad at all.

Oh, dear. I'd expected this
to be finished by now.

You did say one hour at most.

The slabs go down tomorrow.
Yeah.

These are they, are they?
Same as the others. Good.

In fact,
they're absolutely identical.

Same swirl, dip, lines.
Because they're not real.

I mean, they are real sandstone

from a quarry
the other side of Causton,

but they're dust, sort of
glued together and stamped out.

How do you know that?

The man who sold them to us
gave us a lecture.

It's big business, apparently.

Started off by your friends,
the Welsh.

With roofing slates.

After you.

How kind, sir.

Got it.

Miss Mostyn, can you tell us
what that is, please?

A label of some kind.
Yes, it is. Well done.

It's from your brother's shop.

And the writing round the edge -
does that ring a bell?

No!

Oh, I think it does.

Tikamgarh, Chhatarpur,

Panna,

Sarna.

Those are the names of four districts
in Pradesh, India.

And Collab,
that's short for Collaborative.

This particular one makes furniture.
Bully for it.

You bought ã30,000 worth

with a money transfer
from the surgery account.

And once it had gone through, you
tried to clear away all trace of it.

Or you thought you did.

And then you split the proceeds
with your brother, David.

And he gave you your half in the
shape of a rather nice sports car.

I think I'd like a solicitor.

I think you need one.

You and your brother
will be charged with embezzlement

and money-laundering,
pending further inquiries.

As for bail... Oh, you don't have
any money, do you?

What further inquiries?

Those into Alan Delaney's death.

Where is your brother, Miss Mostyn?

How should I know?
Well, help us out here, would you?

Make an inspired guess.
And, while you're at it,

could you tell me
what your brother wants

quarter of a million pounds for?

Sibling loyalty at its best, Jones.

Or its worst.

You charge her, please, Sergeant.

You see, Mrs Mostyn, I don't believe

that Megan acted on her own.

These are my children
you're talking about.

Perhaps you should let them
stand on their own two feet.

We've been taking steps
to encourage that.

You still paid Megan's bail.

Well, yes,
that may seem contradictory.

You're not intending to stump up
ã25,000 for David, are you?

I know he's asked his father for it,

and I don't doubt
that he's asked you too, Mrs Mostyn.

Yeah? What's this got to do
with Al's murder?

People have killed for ã50,
certainly ã30,000,

let alone quarter of a million.

Are you saying that my children
killed Alan Delaney?

Well, Mrs Mostyn, we cannot rule out
that possibility.

But to help us do so,
tell us where David is.

Jones,

the trip to Snowdonia tomorrow...

The ramble?
The ramble.

Most of our main suspects will all be
gathered together in one place.

Well, David and Megan
won't be there.

Unless his mother is mistaken
and David Mostyn is there already.

And if we allow Dr Kirkwood
to go too,

they'll have their intended victim
amongst them.

You're gonna use Kirkwood as bait?

I'm asking you
to make sure he's safe.

So, it's out with the hiking boots
again. Yeah.

You and DC Briars,
you stay very close to him.

I don't go there for three years,
then twice in one week.

I might get fond of the place,
apply for a transfer.

Oh, don't say that, Jones.

I've got enough on my plate
without losing you.

That could almost have been
a compliment.

Almost.

Sut mae, Huw?

Sut mae?

It seems like our Delyth's
got herself mixed up in some trouble

back there in England.

None of my business now, Bryn.

No, but er...

I was wondering how you'd feel about
meeting up with her again.

I'd like it.

But I'm not sure
how good an idea it is.

One of my best, believe me.

And it's high time
peace broke out between you.

Miss Tidyman?
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

from Causton CID.

May I come in, please?

Not a pretty sight, I agree.

Come in.

Detective Sergeant Jones,
this is Miss Harriet Tidyman.

And, by the look of it,
we were wrong.

David Mostyn is not hiding out
with her.

Why would he be?
Do you mind if I take a look round?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I do!
Thank you.

What do you want David for?

I've got a couple of questions
for him.

One about money,

the other about murder.

What about money?

Ooh,
that's a very interesting response.

So the money's more important
than murder, eh?

Why? Has he been asking you for...?

Oh, well, of course he has,
hasn't he?

Because you are an estate agent
AND a mortgage broker.

You raise loans for people,
don't you? So?

What does he want
a quarter of a million pounds for?

I haven't the faintest idea
what you're talking about.

There's a man's razor
and some aftershave in the toilet.

And the seat's up.

(SIGHS DEEPLY)

OK, Jones, go hide the car.

And perhaps Miss Tidyman

will be kind enough
to put the kettle on for us.

CAR APPROACHES

Hello, David.

Bad news, I'm afraid.

I'm arresting you for embezzlement
and money-laundering.

And tomorrow, it could be murder.

No, come on.
What are you really here for?

You're not running away together,
are you?

Clifford, behave yourself.

They make such a smashing pair,
that's all I'm saying.

Here, you haven't come to make sure
I don't kill Jim, have you?

You told us you wouldn't give him
the satisfaction.

Yeah, but being coppers,
you don't believe a word I say.

Why are you coming to Wales?

Wales? You mean this isn't
the No.19 to Causton?

Stephens.
You wanted to see me, sir.

Yes, yes, I do.

How would you like to stand in
for Jones while he's away?

Love to, sir.
Good.

I'll square that
with the Duty Officer.

In the meantime,

let's see
what sort of a case we've got.

And I like my coffee black, no sugar.

Right, gentlemen.

Shall we make a start?

Mr Mostyn.

What do you need
a quarter of a million pounds for?

To expand my business.

Is it a crime to borrow money,
Inspector?

That's what we're here to find out.

Yes, well, I'd prefer it
if we confine ourselves

to the ã30,000
you allege my client has embezzled.

That his sister admitted
they embezzled.

Here's her statement.
Do you want to read it?

Whatever it says,
it's hardly carved in stone.

Oh...

Do you know, Stephens, I do believe

these two have not the slightest
intention of helping us.

Why don't you go and arrest
Harriet Tidyman

for withholding information?
Yes, sir. No!

This has got nothing to do
with Hattie.

But of course it has.

Because you asked her
to raise a loan for you.

I strongly recommend...
Be quiet, Justin.

Can't you see what he's doing?
He's using Harriet...

Mr Pickard,

you have your client's instructions.

Right. Check these, if you would.

Map, compass, whistle,

mobile phone, emergency rations.

I suggest we take it easily. There's
a bit of a ramp at Stage Three.

It's called Mount Snowdon.
LAUGHTER

Good morning.

How can we help you?

I'd like a few words with Delyth,
if that's all right with her.

Jim Kirkwood.

Hello, Huw.

Silly not to come and say hello,
I thought.

10 minutes?

But of course.

Why don't you join us
for the afternoon?

Good day for it.
What?

Making friends.

Bryn Williams.
Bryn!

Jim Kirkwood. Good to meet you.
Good to meet you, too.

I need the money to pay off
the mortgage on a house.

But you don't own a house.

My mother's house.

I don't understand.

Five years ago, Harriet raised
a loan for me to buy the shop.

She raised ã250,000...

..against my mother's cottage,
which...

I told her it was mine.

The names on the deeds
were easy enough to change -

Delyth to David.

So you needed a second loan
to pay off the first.

Because if your mother sells up,

then all that
would come to light, yes?

And you couldn't allow that
to happen, could you?

So that was your motive

for killing James Kirkwood.

What? Hold on a sec.

I don't want my mother to go off
tripping round the world, no,

but murder?

Do me a favour. Besides,

I wouldn't have mistaken Delaney
for Kirkwood.

No, but someone working for you
might have done.

You mean now I'm employing hit men?

Look, I wanted the money, yes.

I...I tried Harriet,

my mother, my father. Dad even said
I should ask Bryn, for God's sake!

Bryn? Did he have money?

Not really.

But, according to Dad, he's applied
for some Welsh Office grant.

He wants to turn Marchogwr Allt
into a business.

Recycling slate waste.

Because they're not real. They're
a dust, sort of glued together.

It's big business, apparently.

Started off by your friends,
the Welsh.

With roofing slates.

And the business - that would be
Bryn in partnership with your mother,

as she owns half the land?

No, she's selling him her share,
I believe.

Did you ever approach him for money?

No.

We don't really get on.

He gave Megan a hard time when
she took the job at the surgery.

This doctor, you mean.

Time was when the Williamses and
the medical profession were enemies.

A couple of local doctors signed
most of the quarry workers off...

And put the quarry out of business.

God knows what Bryn will do when he
finds out Mum's marrying a doctor.

He already knows.

DOG BARKS

Stephens,
get onto the Aerial Support Unit.

I'm going to North Wales.

And get onto the Welsh Office.

I want to know if Marchogwr Allt, the
slate quarry, has been given a grant.

The amount, conditions, chapter
and verse. All right? Yes, sir.

Jones.
'This is DS Jones.

Please leave a message.'
VOICEMAIL BEEP

Jones, don't let Kirkwood
out of your sight!

One of them going off the rails
I could brush aside,

but both?

It's the past, isn't it? It's me.

I said it was me.

Jim won't have that.

He says you can blame us
for what we've done,

but not for what they've done.

Sounds good.

Wish it was true.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Stephens.

'Sir, info from the Welsh Office.'

Bryn Williams
has applied for a grant

to turn all that dust into roof
slates, mantelpieces, pot stands,

barometers, you name it.

Four million pounds
from the government.

Right. Well done. Thank you.

Er... Ladies and gents!

Hello!

Can you hang on
just for a few minutes?

We'll wait for the stragglers
to catch up.

They're getting on
like a house on fire.

Good.

Thirsty work, this...boyo.

So...

..people do this for a hobby, eh?

Ah, it's a great country though, eh?

You're not going all Welsh on me,
are you?

We were blessed, weren't we?

Up and down it like a yo-yo
when you were kids, Del says.

I'll show you the playground.
Thank you.

We didn't realise how lucky we were.

You don't when you're kids.

James?
Oh. Thanks.

Thank you.

Right, now can you all bunch up?

Yes, that's right.
Now we want great big smiles.

Um... Sergeant,
could you do the honours, please?

There we are.
Now, it's that little button there.

OK. And smile.

Where's Dr Kirkwood?

When did you see him last?

I saw him a minute or two ago
in the back with Bryn.

Bryn said he was going home.
MOBILE PHONE RINGS

'You have one new message.'

BARNABY: 'Jones, don't let Kirkwood
out of your sight!'

Mrs Mostyn,
Dr Kirkwood's number, please.

Sorry.

RINGING TONE
'This is DS Jones.

Please leave a message.'

RINGING TONE
It's ringing.

Thank you.

Down there...that's my house.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Come on!

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

'This is Jones, sir.

Kirkwood and Bryn Williams,
they've both gone missing.'

We started out at 2:30
from Gorffwysfa.

G-O-R-F-F-W-Y-S-F-A.

Map reference: 6-4-7-5-5-7,

heading up the Miner's Track.

Yes, got it.
Thank you, Jones. Got it.

We're looking for two males,
last seen...around this area.

Where my thumb is. There you go.

OK, sir. Got it.

We've reached Llyn Tevyn,
heading for Llyn Llydaw.

Kirkwood was last seen
walking with Bryn Williams

on a path, about 10 minutes ago.

'Good. Stay on the phone, Jones.
Keep this line open.'

PILOT: That's them. Down there, sir.

No, not those two. Those are my men.

There! There they are! Those two!

Jones, go to your left.

Go to your left about 100 metres.
Go to your left.

100 metres down there.

Williams!

Good work!

TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS

Bryn Williams' pick-up. Found it
in one of the outbuildings. Cleaned.

And Dr Kirkwood?
He's fine, sir.

At the local hospital,
being checked out.

Mrs Mostyn is with him.

And Williams?
We're holding him here

until the police doctor's given him
a mental assessment.

So the plan was
to drop him over the edge.

A tragic accident.

And he hadn't a clue that
you bore him any kind of ill will.

Why did you want to buy Delyth out?

Why not just share
the new business venture with her?

(CHUCKLES)

With honest, school teacher Delyth?

Because there wasn't going to be
a business.

I was going to take the first
instalment of the grant and run.

1.5 million.

Can't see Del agreeing to that,
can you?

Then she changed her mind?

Two months ago,
she was desperate to sell.

Her kids were in debt.

And, like the doting mother she is,

she wanted to...bail them out.

Then she adds insult to injury.

DELYTH: 'Bryn, it's me again.

Just a rider
to the news I gave you earlier.

He's a doctor.

Bryn, are you OK about that?'

'That's fine, Del, fine.'

Let bygones be bygones, eh?

BARNABY: But you didn't mean it.

No.

And he's not only a doctor,
he's a rich doctor.

Solved all her financial problems
at a stroke.

Get rid of him, though,
and she'd sell you the land.

Only you murdered the wrong man.

I shan't waste any sleep over him.

KNOCK ON DOOR

How's the head?
Superficial, I assure you.

Waiting to be discharged.
I'm very glad to hear that.

This...
is one of Alan Delaney's diaries.

Really it should go with
the other evidence in the case,

but it won't.

Alan took a courageous decision.

He...helped your wife.

Knew I hadn't the stomach for it.

Take it.

Hi, Dad.

Case all sorted?

Yes.

Known in the trade...as a result.
Mwah!

As indeed is this,
by the looks of things!

Ooh!

Oh, that's very nice!

Very nice indeed.

And all for under 50 quid!

Well, thank you.
Thank you both very much.

You're welcome.

Bet it took you more than an hour,
eh?

Are you happy, Joyce?
Yes, very.

Well, if we had a bigger table,
we could have had supper out here.

I only wish we'd been bolder.
One more row that way... Mum.

Supper in 10 minutes.
No, make that half an hour.

Simon and I are going to The Crown
for a pint.

Come on, young sir!

Now that is what I call a result.

This patio may prove more expensive
than I thought.

Thank you.

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