[mid-tempo jazz music] [upbeat music] [Margaret humming] [suspenseful music] [gun firing] Oh, good God!

Vicky.

Afraid you scared him off, Mrs. Crabbe.

[sighs] Did I?

Mink.

Animal libbers let 5,000 out of a fur farm up at Haybury.

Can't keep the damn things out of the ponds.

You all right?

Oh, yes.

Okay to catch a lift back then?

Yep.

Face it, Margaret, you'll never get used to the countryside.

[slow music] [Vicky] No problems with the last batch, I hope.

[Margaret] Oh, no, no.

Henry couldn't be happier.

It's that time of year again.

The VAT?

I did ring and ask your dad for an appointment.

[Vicky] Oh well, that explains it.

Ever since darling Jean showed up, I don't think Dad knows what day it is half the time.

[birds chirping] Margaret.

[Margaret] Hello, Bill!

Dad, you might have told me Mrs. Crabbe was coming.

Oh, sorry, didn't I?

[Woman] Bill, darling?

-Oh.

-Bill!

His mistress' voice.

Oh, thank you, darling.

Oh, hello.

Oh, Jean, this is Margaret Crabbe from Pie in the Sky.

-Oh, yes.

-Hello.

You do a bit of cooking?

Only the books.

I'm an accountant.

-That's clever.

-Well, Jean's had some sad news.

An elderly aunt in Eastbourne, heart.

Funeral's tomorrow.

Oh, I am sorry.

Yes, well, none of us last forever, do we?

Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Crabbe.

Shall we get on?

Oh.

[slow music] Bye-bye, darling.

[slow dramatic music] [slow music] [Margaret] Well, he's completely lost his marbles.

Hmm?

Sorry, who?

Bill, of course.

Oh yes, of course.

You realize he's only gone and made that wretched woman a partner in the business.

Do you know, I seem to remember you mentioning something about that.

Can't have been more than 50 times a day for the last three days in fact.

Anyway, they're getting married, aren't they?

Ha ha ha, in Bill's dreams.

She's gotta get a divorce first.

What about this gammon, Steve?

I'd give it a couple more minutes, chef.

Mm.

Where did he meet her in the first place?

Oh, he was on holiday in Portugal.

According to Vicky, she just turned up at Gatwick along with the excess baggage.

Taste.

Oh my God.

A bit strong, is it?

Perhaps you're right.

You know, that old Mediterranean moonlight has been the downfall of many a good man.

-Oh, yeah?

-Yeah.

Voice of experience, is it?

What is that stuff?

Horseradish cream for the smoked trout.

Oh.

[tractor engine rumbling] [slow mysterious music] I was wondering if you could have a quiet word with Bill, you know, something man to man.

Not a chance.

Oh, come on, Henry.

Margaret, no.

No.

Look, the stomach is my specialty.

Affairs of the heart, I've learned to leave well alone.

Anyway, I don't see why you're taking all this so personally.

Bill is a friend, isn't he?

And she's obviously only interested in his money.

Oh, money.

What money?

I mean, Springbrook Farm is hardly Rio Tinto Zinc.

That's all you know.

Oh, yes.

-What's that supposed to mean?

-Here, Steve, look.

This one's got something stuck in its gullet.

[Henry] Margaret?

Well, he got an offer on the farm, that's all.

-Who from?

-London firm called Captain Fish.

Captain Fish?

Apparently, they're mostly into frozen seafood and boil-in-the-bag stuff.

But they're cash-rich and they're looking to expand up-market.

He's never going to accept that.

Could be.

-Ah.

-[laughs] Oh yeah.

Really suits you.

[laughs] What do you make of that then?

Well, as I understand it, fish are always attracted to things that sparkle.

You know, I think the dreaded Jean was wearing a pair of these last Monday.

I suppose I better give it back to Vicky the next time she calls.

It's all right.

I'll take it.

Upon mature reflection, I think perhaps I should have a word with Bill after all.

[fish splashing] Hello, Bill.

Henry.

I didn't mean to startle you.

Just wanted to return this.

We thought of putting it on the menu, truite a la surprise.

Sorry?

[Henry] Steve found it in one of your fish.

Oh, I see.

One of the girls must have dropped it, I suppose.

Thanks.

Is something wrong, Bill?

No, no, not at all.

Oh, it's shrimp.

[Bill] Yeah.

[Henry] Ah, so that's the secret, eh?

No secret to good fish, Henry.

Just wholesome food, clean water, and don't get greedy.

That's what I always tell people.

It's good advice, too, though not many take it.

Mm, like Captain Fish, for example?

Ah, you've been talking to Margaret.

Oh, he's full of good ideas, their managing director.

Wants to double the acreage of the ponds, increase the stocking ratios, put in a new freezer unit, all sorts.

All to do with cost-price margins apparently, and something called vertical integration.

[scoffs] Sounds like a total nightmare.

Oh, makes a lot of sense actually, once you get past the jargon.

And they're offering an awful lot of money.

All right?

So far, so good.

A little experiment.

Juniper and apple wood.

The burn's not as consistent as the oak, but there's a tang to it I rather like.

Oh.

So, you've decided to accept then?

No.

I told him, "Thanks very much, "but I'm not quite ready to retire just yet."

Oh, good.

Well, that's a great relief.

I'm a silly old bugger, aren't I?

And Jean's happy here.

At least...

Wait a minute.

This is one of hers.

Yes, that's what Margaret thought.

-[slow suspenseful music] -Yeah, but... -Henry-- -Good grief.

How does she do it?

[slow music] [groans] Cambridge.

Tell me, am I wearing some sort of electronic tag or something?

Actually, sir, it wasn't you I wanted.

Oh.

Bill, what have you been up to?

Mr. Pritchard, would you mind coming with us, please?

We've got some questions we'd like to ask you.

Cambridge?

Would you mind, sir?

You don't mind if I tag along, do you?

[Cambridge] Well, I don't really suppose I can stop you, can I, Inspector?

No, Sergeant, I don't suppose you really can.

Dad, what's going on?

[Cambridge] There's no cause for alarm, Miss.

Come on, Cambridge, give us a hint.

Well, I'd imagine Inspector Browning would prefer to explain things personally, wouldn't you?

Oh, Browning, but of course.

It would be Browning, wouldn't it?

Don't worry, Vicky.

It'll be all right.

Come along, Constable.

Move up, you don't need all that space.

[engine rumbling] I don't think we need detain you any longer, sir.

Thanks for your help.

All right, thank you.

Ronnie?

That's Ronnie Barratt, Jean's husband.

What the hell is he doing here?

Oh, Inspector Crabbe is a personal friend of Mr. Pritchard's, ma'am.

He simply thought he might be able to help.

Oh, did he?

That's Jean's car.

Yes, sir.

Well, what's it doing down there?

Good question.

Has there been some kind of accident?

No, no, we think someone's made a rather unsuccessful shot at hiding it.

Not you, by any chance?

Me?

Of course not.

Henry, what- Stay out of this, Crabbe.

William Edward Pritchard, is that right, W.E.P.?

-Sorry?

-Those are your initials?

Yes.

We found this under the driver's seat.

Look, what's going on?

Where's Jean?

Well, that's another good question, sir.

She seems to have disappeared.

Are you saying...

This is a murder inquiry, isn't it?

Henry, that earring, the ponds.

-You don't think- -What's he talking about?

Oh my God.

What earring?

[slow music] Crabbe?

[police radio chattering] What are they doing out there, Henry?

What the hell is taking them so long?

It's slow work, Bill.

It always is.

You just have to be patient, I'm afraid.

Patient?

Nothing yet, ma'am.

What about her?

Well, she claims she spent Tuesday night at the Young Farmer's Disco in Barstock.

Stayed over with a friend.

Should be easy enough to check.

Hm.

And she wants to speak to her father.

No chance.

Sorry, but I have a lot of work to do and I need to get into the house to see my father.

Right, sir.

Let's try and get this sorted, shall we?

Now, you say that you had no idea that Mrs. Barratt was missing.

No.

And that you haven't, in fact, seen her since Tuesday night.

Yes, no, I told you, she rang on Tuesday.

She left on Monday for her aunt's funeral.

So, you haven't actually seen her since Monday?

-[Bill] That's right.

-Thank you, Crabbe.

I think we can manage without your help.

Look, I love Jean!

I'd never do anything to harm her.

It's all right, Bill.

Nobody's saying that you did.

But it's what she thinks, isn't it?

Isn't it?

The earring that was found in a batch delivered to the restaurant yesterday, Wednesday.

Wednesday, yes.

Is one of the pair you say she was wearing when she left?

Yes.

-On Monday morning?

-Yes.

So, she must have come back, mustn't she?

Must have done, and yet you say you never saw her.

-No!

-Do you expect us to believe that?

-Look, Bill- -I told you to stay out of this.

Oh, come on, sir.

What really happened on Tuesday night?

You quarreled, didn't you?

We do know about that, you know?

She came back, there was a row.

-You lost your temper.

-No, no!

Henry?

-I'm warning you, Crabbe.

-Ma'am, they found something.

[slow dramatic music] Clothing, ma'am.

Jacket and skirt.

They fit the description.

And this.

Right then.

You gonna tell us where you put the body?

We'll find it anyway.

We always do.

All right, William Edward Pritchard, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be used in evidence.

-Henry, I want to speak to Henry.

-Don't say anything, Bill.

Don't say anything without a lawyer present.

Get him out of here.

How did the press get onto this so fast?

Beats me, gov.

No one knew what was going down until a couple of hours ago, only the Inspector.

-Oh, really?

-Yeah.

Thank you.

[journalists yelling] [camera clicking] [slow music] [people talking] Thank you.

Bon appetit.

[phone ringing] Pie in the Sky, good evening.

No, he's not available at the moment, sir.

I'm used to being on the other side, you know.

But when they arrested Bill, such an awful look of triumph in their faces.

I just kept thinking, "My God, have I looked like that all these years?"

There must be something we can do.

Well, I mean, who else would want Jean Barratt dead?

What do we actually know about her?

According to Vicky, she used to be a nurse.

You know, the person with the best motive is Vicky.

She had the most to lose.

Vicky?

Margaret, anyone can commit murder.

Anyone at all.

But Bill.

[Man] Hang on a minute, hang on a minute.

What's this?

-Oh.

-What now?

[inaudible] You've not paid yet.

I caught her trying to leave without paying, Mrs. C. I was not.

There he is.

Inspector.

Oh, for heaven's sake.

[Reporter] Oh, come on, you've got to give us something.

Look, you're wasting your time.

I'm not even on the case.

Have you found the body yet?

No comment.

-Steve.

-Well, why did he do it?

At least tell us that.

He didn't, all right?

He's innocent, and my husband's going to prove it.

So you can put that in your blasted paper.

Right, thanks very much.

[slow music] -Oh dear.

-I know, I know.

I'm sorry.

I don't know what happened.

It just slipped out.

So I heard.

God, sir, maybe you've taken leave of your senses?

I hope not, sir.

"Maverick cop Henry Crabbe "yesterday launched a personal crusade "to save the Barstock man "accused of butchering his former lover."

Yes, but I think what I actually said was, "No comment."

You should never have been talking to the press in the first place.

I wouldn't if you hadn't turned this case into a media circus.

What the hell do you mean by that?

Oh, I think we know exactly what I mean by that, don't we?

Or do you want me to prove it?

All right, Inspector, thank you.

-[phone ringing] -[people talking] Thank you.

Sir!

You've still got a body to find, haven't you?

I suggest you get on with it.

Bad form speaking to the press like that.

But then no one's leak-proof these days, are they?

You're not really planning some sort of crusade, I take it?

No, sir.

I would like to talk to Bill, though.

Yeah, wouldn't we all?

He hasn't said a word since we brought him in.

Well, he might talk to me.

Yeah.

How'd it look, Henry?

He's a friend of yours, I understand.

Yeah, I've known him a long time.

And his fish really is outstanding.

Fish?

Fish.

Oh, yeah, I see.

Well, it's tricky for you.

You're best off out of it.

Well, I better go and face the howling mob, I suppose.

I've taken over the media end of things personally.

Yeah, now that's a surprise.

What's that?

I said "Well, that's very wise," sir.

Out the back way if you wouldn't mind.

Wouldn't want you bumping into any more reporters, would we?

You're not avoiding me, are you, Cambridge?

No, sir, If course not.

How'd it go?

Well, Mr. Fisher intimated I'd best leave well alone.

Good advice.

Can't afford emotional involvement.

Well, you know that, sir.

Why are you all so sure Bill's guilty?

Come on, sir.

You saw his reaction when I turned up yesterday.

Yes, but I mean, I'd be upset if the police came and told me my fiancée was missing.

Except that he claims he didn't know she was missing then, doesn't he?

And he's definitely lying about Tuesday night.

She went back.

We have the petrol receipt from a garage she used in Haybury timed 8:42 p.m. Then there's the earring.

And the wood where the car was dumped is only a half hour from the farm cross-country.

Mm.

I suspect the daughter's lying too, although I can't think why.

Her alibi checks out.

Have they identified the murder weapon?

Most likely a shotgun.

Punctures in the jacket are consistent.

We think the knife was used to dismember the body.

Forensics say that the traces of blood on the gutting shed workshop were type AB, same as Mrs. Barratt's.

Well, it all sounds marvelously convenient.

What do you mean by that, sir?

I mean that either Bill Pritchard was spectacularly bad at covering up his tracks or someone wanted it to look that way.

Like whom?

Well, I don't know.

But then, I don't know all the facts, do I, Cambridge?

Oh, come on, Cambridge.

This thing didn't start with some yokel finding a car in the woods.

Now, who was it that put Browning onto it in the first place?

No, sir.

Really, I can't.

Well, think of it as a delayed payment, if you like.

Sorry?

You know, for all those happy hours spent as my guest at Pie in the Sky.

Well, you know, there's no such thing as a free lunch.

[slow music] Or breakfast.

Or dinner.

[sighs] All right.

Please.

Ronnie Barratt.

Ah, yes, the husband.

I was wondering about him.

[slow dramatic music] [phone ringing] Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Um, just a sec.

A Mr. Fremantle wants to speak to the boss.

He says he's Bill's solicitor.

Hello.

Hello, Mr. Fremantle, I'm afraid my husband's not available at the moment.

I wonder, I wonder, could I help?

[doorbell ringing] -Mr. Barratt?

-Spot on.

Sophie not with you?

Sorry?

You have come about the house?

Um, no.

I know who you are.

You're Pritchard's pal, aren't you?

Crippes?

Cribb?

Crabbe.

Right.

Well, I suppose you better come in.

[Henry] Thanks.

[woman laughing] Inspector.

Apparently I need your permission to leave the premises.

Where do you want to go?

My friend's place in town.

That seems reasonable.

Just a minute.

What's in the bag?

My overnight things.

A couple of T-shirts, some clean knickers.

Want to look?

That won't be necessary.

Thanks a lot.

Follow her.

It's Fraser, ma'am.

He thinks he's found her.

[Ronnie] Drink?

Not for me, thanks, no.

I take it this isn't official.

I read your little bit in the paper.

Well, I was slightly misquoted.

I dare say.

I dare say you're also wondering why I don't chuck you out.

Well, I was rather.

No point, is there?

I mean, you didn't kill her.

Go on, then.

Ask me anything you want.

Right.

Thank you.

You told the police that Jean had phoned Bill from here that Tuesday night after she came back from her auntie's funeral.

That's right.

Well, I thought you two were separated.

We were.

She decided to come back.

That's why she rang, to tell him it was over.

Wasn't it rather sudden?

Not really.

It was only a question of time.

I always knew that.

That's where they met.

My bloody boat, would you believe?

Look, I can't stand it in here.

I was in the garden, is that all right with you?

Sure.

Well, there's not much left of her, I'm afraid.

Did she wear glasses, do we know?

Yes, reading glasses.

One of those chain things around her neck.

Oh good.

[Ronnie] Sintra it was, Portugal.

About 16 weeks ago now.

He was on holiday there.

We found him moping about in some tourist bar.

Took pity on him.

Asked him aboard for a proper drink.

After that I was out on business most days.

Jean was on her tod.

Well, you know what they say about holiday romance.

[Henry] What business are you in, Mr. Barratt?

Holiday flats.

Villas, that sort of thing.

You know, helping people find their little place in the sun.

Well, you've done quite nicely out of it.

Yes, I suppose I have.

No use to me now though, is it?

Not after this.

How did you feel about the affair?

How do you think I'd feel?

Like cutting his miserable heart out, as a matter of fact.

But then you try and keep things civilized, don't you?

Do you fish at all?

-No.

-You should try, it's very calming.

He wasn't the first, you know.

But she'd never actually left me before.

Mind you, I always knew she'd come back.

I always knew that.

That leaf over there.

The yellow one, see it?

But she did, didn't she?

It's all a question of how you present the fly, you see?

People forget.

The trout is basically a hunter.

You gotta persuade her that she's making all the running.

Mrs. Crabbe, so sorry to keep you.

Not at all.

Um, it's rather awkward this.

I did try contacting the police.

An extraordinary woman called Browning simply didn't want to know.

And, I mean, normally one wouldn't dream of discussing a client's affairs.

But, well, Bill is a very old friend.

And when I read what your husband told the papers, well naturally, one wants to do whatever one can to help.

Naturally, Mr. Fremantle, yes.

You told the police that they quarreled on the phone.

Oh, God, it was bloody ridiculous.

She said he was hysterical.

Couldn't live without her.

All that stuff.

In the end she agreed to go over.

Try and calm him down.

But you didn't go with her?

I had a flight to catch.

Business meeting in the Algarve.

And anyway, I didn't know what he was capable of then.

Apparently no one did.

Anyway, I rang her a couple of times from Portugal, couldn't get an answer, but I didn't worry.

I wasn't worried until I got back on the Wednesday night and she still hadn't come home.

And that's when you called in the police?

Exactly.

Right.

Is that it?

Yes, I think so.

Um, oh, by the way, do you own a shotgun, Mr. Barratt?

Well yes, I do, as a matter of fact.

But I think if I was going to kill anyone, it would have been him, don't you?

[slow music] -I'll take that.

-God!

This looks like one of those really difficult stains.

Henry.

Henry.

I know who did it.

[Henry] Really?

I've just been talking to Bill's solicitor.

And he gets it all, Ronnie Barratt, I mean.

The husband.

-What are you talking about?

-The 300,000 pounds, Jean's share of Captain Fish's offer on the farm, of course.

Look, put that down, will you?

I don't know who I'm talking to here.

Sorry.

There we are.

Now start again, Margaret, please, from the top.

Right.

Well, it was David Fremantle, you know, Bill's solicitor, who drew up the agreement between Jean and Bill.

-You remember?

-Yes, yeah.

Well, he didn't like it any more than I did.

And he told Bill that if he made that partnership before Jean had got the divorce, there was nothing to stop her just walking off with half the business.

I mean, he put it more diplomatically than that, but- -Margaret.

-No, wait, wait.

So, in the end he persuaded him to add a thing, a codicil.

Here, here.

It's just a copy.

I persuaded him to give me that.

I mean, it goes on a bit.

But the gist of it is that if Jean changes her mind about the marriage or if the whole thing falls apart after two years, then all rights to the farm revert to Bill.

But what if she dies?

Ah, well, that's the point.

He was going to cover that by making another will, but they never got around to it.

And so as her legal husband- Ronnie gets the lot.

Exactly.

Margaret.

I know.

[laughs] It's the perfect motive, isn't it?

[phone ringing] Hello, Pie in the Sky.

Yeah, he's here somewhere.

Hang on, I'll have a look for you.

Ah, he's here.

-It's for you, chef.

-It's not more journalists, is it?

No.

Crabbe.

[slow music] Yes, sir.

Henry?

Yeah, I understand.

No, don't bother.

I'll drive myself.

Thank you.

[sighs] It's Fisher.

He says Bill's ready to confess.

Forensics are going through the ash from the smokehouse now.

It's definitely human.

And the blood on the jacket looks like type AB.

I'm sorry to put you through this, Henry, but he refuses to talk to anyone else.

Yes, sir.

You do know this is a formal interview, don't you?

Everything recorded.

I understand.

Wouldn't want any slip-ups, Crabbe.

It's still my case.

[Henry] Hello, Bill.

I loved her, you see, Henry.

Those few weeks we had were truly wonderful.

For the first time since Elizabeth died, I felt really alive.

She was willing to give up everything for me.

I was so grateful.

I knew she'd started seeing him again, of course.

Little things.

I pretended not to, but I knew I was losing her.

When she rang that night, it was just so sudden.

Now, this was the Tuesday night?

Yes.

And what time was it?

Oh, Vicky had already gone out.

About 8:00, 8:15.

She said she was leaving me.

I made rather a fool of myself, I'm afraid.

Take your time, Bill.

Go on, go on.

In the end, she said she would come over to the farm.

Yes.

I waited.

I suppose I had a few drinks, scotch.

It seemed like hours.

I felt, I don't know.

Then I started to get angry.

What happened next?

I don't know.

I swear to you, Henry.

I remember walking out by the ponds.

It was dark.

I remember her car on the drive.

The headlights coming towards me.

Are you sure it was Jean's car?

Oh yeah.

Well, at least, I'd been drinking.

I just remember the lights, and then nothing.

Nothing.

[slow music] Vicky found me in the morning by the ponds.

I must have blacked out.

I was cold, frozen.

I couldn't remember.

Vicky doesn't know anything, Henry.

She wasn't involved.

She just thought I'd been drinking.

I mean, she must have guessed that we'd had some kind of bust-up, but she didn't ask.

And I, I tried to carry on as if nothing had happened.

I told myself, but I was so afraid.

Why afraid?

The jacket.

The old one I use for work.

Vicky found it in the gutting shed and there was blood.

And then I knew.

Knew what, Bill?

She was dead?

That you'd killed her?

Please, out loud for the tape.

Oh, yes, yes!

[sobs] God help me.

Yes, I killed her.

[Bill sobbing] It's all right, Bill.

It's all over now.

[bell chiming] Steve says they're coping fine.

No more reporters.

Good.

Not your fault, Henry.

You did what you could.

No, I didn't.

You were right, Margaret.

I should have talked to him.

Wouldn't have made a difference.

Well, I know, but.

[sighs] You know, I've been thinking, isn't it odd that Bill doesn't actually remember killing her?

It just seems to happen that way sometimes.

Sort of defense mechanism, really.

The memory shuts itself down.

All the same.

Well, it happens, Margaret.

He'd been drinking, Henry.

Didn't you say he'd been drinking?

Yeah, so?

Well, suppose he just passed out?

It could still have been Ronnie.

Oh no, Margaret.

Ronnie was in Portugal.

So he says.

Margaret.

No, listen.

Suppose when Jean turned up that night and told Ronnie that she wanted to come back to him, well, suppose Ronnie didn't want her back.

You mean, he didn't want her, but he did want the money?

Right.

I mean, we've only got his word for it that she ever went back to the farm.

Yeah, okay.

So, he lets her make the phone call to Bill.

Then he kills her.

And then he drives her back to the farm himself.

Well, but still, why not drive her out a few miles and kill her in the countryside?

Then all he has to do is dump the clothes in the pond.

And dispose of the body in the smokehouse.

And dump the car in the woods.

Yes, and then he just walks home free and clear.

Yes, yes.

No.

What do you mean, "No"?

Well, how could he get away with it?

I mean, because Bill is sitting in the house waiting for her to come back.

But he wasn't, was he?

He was out stone cold.

That's the whole point.

But how would Ronnie know that unless... What?

What?

Come on, get your coat.

What is it?

[slow suspenseful music] I don't suppose this is entirely legal, is it?

[laughs] I do so love these quaint country customs, don't you?

Ah, yes.

Brand new.

Hasn't even been opened.

So?

So, he said he'd been drinking scotch.

Well, maybe there was more than one bottle.

Maybe he'd finished it.

Maybe.

But it would still be around here, wouldn't it?

You go upstairs.

So I'm looking for an open bottle of scotch?

Exactly.

Any luck?

No.

What I don't know is, is that good or is that bad?

It's good, Margaret, it's good.

I think.

Do you know what's odd about this room?

No.

What?

Well, it's obviously their bedroom, you know, Bill and Jean's.

But where is she?

I mean, all her clothes are in the wardrobe, but there's nothing else personal in here.

It's the same in the rest of the house.

It's as if all the time she was living here she was only visiting.

Of course.

What now?

Henry?

[Henry] Just visiting, Margaret.

Just visiting.

[Man] You know, it's much the same.

[phone ringing] Hello.

Cambridge?

Hello, sir.

Um, you're not eating, are you?

Not what you'd call eating, no.

Well, the thing is, I need to know if you found a bottle of whiskey when you searched the house.

-Whiskey?

-Yes, yes, an open bottle of whiskey.

Could you check your notes for me, please.

-It's very important.

-Mm, hang on just a minute.

Henry, please, will you tell me what's going on?

You said it yourself, Margaret.

You said it yourself.

Hello?

Yes, Cambridge.

No, nothing except for those in the kitchen cupboard.

Oh great, that's marvelous.

-[slow suspenseful music] -Is that it?

Um, well, there is just one small, tiny favor you could do for me, Cambridge.

[Cambridge] Evening, Mrs. Crabbe.

[Margaret] Evening, Sergeant.

I can't say I'm terribly happy about this, sir.

But you did give him a ring?

Yes, I've arranged an appointment to interview him about a whiskey bottle, just as you asked me to.

And?

Well, he didn't break down and confess to any murders.

It's all a question of how you present the fly.

You see, Cambridge, the trout has to think he's making all the running.

That's a little tip I got from Ronnie Barratt.

And I think we've got a bite.

Drive on, Sergeant.

[engine rumbling] [slow music] [Margaret] What is all this about a whiskey bottle anyway?

Look.

The only scotch that was in that house was brand new and completely untouched.

Obviously somebody had been in there and swapped the bottles.

Why?

Well, because they didn't want the police to find the bottle that Bill had been drinking from, of course.

I hate it when you start all this Sherlock Holmes rubbish.

Oh, all right then.

The recipe for today, take one bottle of medium-grade scotch, add 12 sleeping pills, stir thoroughly until dissolved.

Voila, trout farmer in aspic.

Do you mean it really was Ronnie?

-Mm-hm.

-He can't have.

According to airport records, he checked in for the 22:30 flight from Gatwick to Lisbon at 21:15.

And he was definitely on board.

Well, anyone with an alibi that good has got to be suspicious.

Obviously he had an accomplice, someone with free access to the house.

[Cambridge] He's turning off.

All right, well slow down.

Slow right down.

The boat.

I thought it was in Portugal.

[sighs] How could you have been so stupid?

Just leaving it there like that.

[woman mumbling] [engine rumbling] Well, you can't have.

Well, how else could the police have found it?

[woman mumbling] It's a bit late now.

God, I could bloody murder you for this!

Oh, not again, Mr. Barratt, surely.

-Ronnie.

-Ah, good evening, Mrs. Barratt.

You're looking remarkably spry under the circumstances.

[birds chirping] [Margaret] What about the ashes, Henry?

They were human, weren't they?

[Henry] Oh, definitely, yeah.

Jean's unfortunate Aunt Gwynneth, I'm afraid.

[Margaret] Who?

[Henry] You remember, the funeral in Eastbourne.

[Margaret] [gasps] Oh yes, of course.

[Henry] And Jean had been a nurse, so I don't suppose she was too squeamish about donating the odd pint of blood.

[Margaret] Oh.

You know, it was remarkably easy to arrange all that.

Oh, is that one there?

No, sorry, just a ripple.

I don't believe there are any fish in this river.

I don't suppose the romance lasted any longer than the Portuguese trip, at least not on Jean's part.

And normally that would have been the end of it.

But then Bill offered Jean a half share in the farm.

Exactly.

And so Ronnie saw a chance to recoup his losses.

Well, yeah.

And, of course, David Fremantle started his legal shenanigans and Jean realized she'd actually have to marry Bill.

Well, of course, that's the last thing that she and Ronnie wanted.

I still can't believe it.

I mean, to put Dad through all that just for the money.

Oh, I don't think it was just for the money.

I think Ronnie wanted revenge on your dad for taking Jean away from him, even though it was just a holiday romance.

Yes.

It was a crime of passion really, just like all the best murders.

Henry.

A little something for you.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, wonderful.

[Bill] Come smoked, you know, like salmon.

Very nice.

Look, Bill, are you really going to accept this offer from Captain Fish?

Absolutely.

Terrible bloody business this.

Up to your rubbers in freezing water half the day, sweltering in a smokehouse the rest.

Anyway, it wouldn't be the same somehow.

And besides, they're making Vicky manager.

Yes, Bill- Stop gassing, Henry.

Right.

And don't scoff that straight away, mind you.

It needs at least 24 hours to mature.

And don't slice it too thin.

I hate that.

I won't, Bill.

And don't drown it in lemon juice either.

Bill, it's me.

Oh, and let me know what you think.

I will.

And, Henry?

Yes.

Thank you.

[mid-tempo jazz music] [slow music]