Exit Lines | Inspector Pascoe | Reginald Hill | BBC Crime Drama | Three Deaths. One Truth.

On a certain stormy November night, Rose became one year old. Our daughter Rose, Rose Pasco. I wasn't on duty. Any villain that night would be the province of my colleague George Hedingley. Ellie and I could relax and celebrate with wine and was while the small person most concerned greeted the whole affair with huge indifference. That same night, three old men who felt far from indifferent died. Exit Lines by Reginald Hill. Dramatized in five parts by Betty Davis with Donald G as Inspector Pasco. Part one. Die, my dear doctor. That's the last thing I shall do.

Three old men died within hours of each other. The first was Philip Kater Westerman, 70 years of age. He was siphoning back from the pub to the towers, a holiday home for the elderly. Look out. >> The second victim was Thomas Arthur Parinder, 71 years of age. He was found lying with a broken hip on a deserted and inhospitable playing field in the recreation ground. >> Come back here. Where are you? What is it then? What have you got there? Oh my god. Ronald devil Thomas Arthur Parinder. He died laughing. Westerman, the accident victim, survived

Long enough to gast four equivocal last words worst at the doctor in charge at the county general hospital and thereby cause a deal of trouble. The third old man who died was Robert Deaks. He was already dead when they brought him in and he was murdered. >> Robert Deaks, aged 73, 25 welfare lane. >> Dead on arrival. >> Yes, inspector. He was alive when his daughter found him. Just he died in the ambulance. He'd taken a battering and There were deep cuts around the neck and shoulders. >> Battered to death? >> Well, I'd guess the

immediate cause of death was heart failure. I hadn't done a detailed examination. It's been a bit hectic here tonight in casualty, but I'd say heart failure brought on by shock. A vicious assault in the course of a robbery. That's murder in my book. Whatever the law says it was robbery, I suppose. >> I don't know the details yet. Our constable reported it as a breakin, but we'll have to wait and see what's missing, if anything. >> Is the daughter still here? >> She is, but I'm afraid you can't talk to her. I've kept her in

overnight and given her a seditive. She was badly shaken. Hm. There are some nasty people about. A busy night, you say? >> Yes. A bad night for the old. He was the Third. >> What? >> Oh, I'm not the third murder. One old man dead from exposure, one killed in a road accident. A bit odd that actually. >> Odd. >> Yes. There's a constable here about it now. You might like to have a word with him if you've got a moment. >> Any particular reason? >> He seems vague about whether the driver was breathalyzed or

not. The fellow's Here in the waiting room stinking of scotch. Is he now? Any passengers? Any witnesses? >> There's another man with him. I assumed he was the passenger. >> I'll look into it. We'll need a full scale postmortem on Deaks. Of course, >> I'll get on to the pathologist now >> and I'll have a word with our constable. What was the accident victim's name? >> Philillip Westerman, aged 70. >> No, not a good night for the old. >> George Hedingley was about to make the acquaintance of the late Philip Kater Westerman and opened Pandora's

box. Now I've been on to the pathologist inspector postmortems 10:30 tomorrow morning. >> Good. Uh, >> did you get a chance to talk to your constable about the accident? >> I did. Apparently, you said something to him about even a dying man smelling whiskey. >> That's right. Last words Westerman spoke. >> What exactly did he say? >> Let me get it right. He said, "Driver, fat bastard pissed." Now, that's a pretty straightforward deathbed declaration, wouldn't you say? >> It would seem so. Would you mind if I used your phone? >> Be my guest. >> Privately,

if I may. >> Why not? All yours. I'll leave you to It. >> I can't think what I've done with my hat. >> That hold on a second. >> Yes. >> I think the police might like another word before you go. Constable. >> Yes, sir. I want to be quite sure for my own peace of mind that you have administered a breathalyzer test. >> You too, Frank. >> I should have thought that was obvious. >> Dr. Sen, >> I I I was just inquiring about the breathalyzer test, Inspector. >> Yes. All right. >> Sorry, sir.

>> Did you say? >> Yes, he did. >> Excuse me, but who are you? >> DL's the name. Detective Superintendent DL if you want the whole bloody issue. Uh, you're Dr. Livingston, I presume. My god, I get it now. It's a nice little Cover up. >> Of what? By whom? >> Of drunken driving causing death of the police by the police. >> No one's asked me who I am. >> All right, let's have your name and rank. >> No rank. Plain Mr. Charlesworth. Arnold Charworth. I'm not a policeman. I'm a bookmaker. And I am more

than happy to be breathalyzed again. >> And why should anyone want to Breathalyze you? >> It's the law, doctor. You see, I was driving the car that killed that poor devil. The superintendent here was just my passenger, and my breath test was negative. So, stuff that in your stethoscope and diagnose it. >> And that was where I came in. Rose was tucked up in bed, and Ally and I were finishing the wine and looking forward to the was when the telephone rang. It was Sergeant Wield, an invaluable officer. Apart from his considerable ability, he was

so ugly that the mere sight of him has been known to terrify nervous suspects into confession. But this particular evening, I could have done without the news he gave me. What? But Mr. Hedingley is on duty tonight. Busy. I see. What's the address? 25 Welfare Lane. Uh-huh. Uh, thank you. I'll be around. A breakin >> worse. An old man's dead. Sorry, love. >> And I'm going away tomorrow. >> I know. I know. You have to go, I suppose. >> Yes. Here's I think I do, Peter. Dad and mom haven't seen Rose for ages. And >>

well, I'm a bit worried about Dad. He hasn't been really right since that bad turn he had. He keeps forgetting things. But if you really mind. >> But if you let yourself go, you might Break your own record for getting close to asking my permission. That would be nice. But I need the request in writing or no one would believe it. >> Very funny. Anyway, why do you have to turn out tonight? What's wrong with George headingly? >> Well, there seems to be some snag. >> Snag? What sort of snag? >> I don't know. Wield

never uses two words where one will do, but it's a bit more Than that. When I asked about George Hedingley, he said he was busy. I mean, just that flat implication, don't ask questions. >> That's a bit cheeky. >> No, not cheeky. More guarded. Oh, well, I had much more interesting plans for the rest of the evening. >> Never mind, love. They'll keep. I hope. >> I hoped, too. I thought bitter thoughts about George Hedingley and wondered why, if there were a problem, nobody had Called in Andy Dell, a superintendent Andrew Dell. Fat Andy, not

altogether popular with authority was Andy. He was too fat, too foul-mouthed, too fond of a glass, and too short on the social graces. But he was my boss, my mentor, and my friend. And he was a bloody good policeman. Sometimes I worried about Andy DL. The first arm of the law on the scene of the Deets killing had been police constable Hector, part of a new intake DL had regrettably christened Maggie's morons. Hector was 6'6 and ashamed of it. His usual posture was bent almost double in an effort to shave 6 in off his height.

Fortunately, Sergeant Wield had taken charge. Method of entry. Back door. Key and lock inside. Glass panel broken. Hand through. Easy. Too easy. And Constable Hector here was first on the scene. >> Yes. Tell me about it, Constable. >> Sir, tell me what you found when you got Here. >> Oh, I Well, I came on duty at 6:00 p.m. on Friday, November. >> No, no. From when you got here, and in your own words, please. >> Those are my own words, sir. >> Yes, but you're not in the witness box. Just talk to me as you

talk to your your self. >> Thank you, Sergeant. Go on, son. >> Well, when I got here, I found Mrs. Frostic and a lot of other people. >> Who's Mrs. Frostic? >> Mrs. Frostick is Mr. Deak's daughter, sir. Mr. Daks is a deceased of this abode. >> Who were the other people? >> Neighbors, I think, sir. >> Think you've got their names and addresses, haven't you? >> Uh, well, some of them. It was all a bit confused, sir. A lot of people had come running in when Mrs. Frostic called for Help. What were all these

people doing? >> Some of them were upstairs with the deceased. >> Was he by then, >> sir? >> Deceased. >> He didn't look good, sir. >> The murdered man did not look good. >> So, some were upstairs and some, I presume, uh, downstairs. >> Uh, yes, sir. Comforting Mrs. Frostick, making cups of tea and that sort of Thing. >> In the living room. >> Mrs. Frostick was in the living room and they were making tea in the kitchen. That's where the oven is, sir. >> Thank you. And what did you do when you got here?

>> Well, I had a look around and then went outside to call for assistance. It were a bit crowded in here, you see. And >> where was Mr. Deaks? >> But upstairs they put him on his bed. >> Thanks, Hector. Stop at the front door, will you? And help keep the sightseers away. Oh, and I'll want a list of everyone you found in the house when you arrive. >> Yes, sir. >> Well, at least he was pretty quickly on the scene. He was just in the next street having a cup of tea with his auntie.

I suspect she lives around the corner. >> I see. No brownie points there. Then you Better tell me everything. >> You know most of it now, sir. The daughter got alarmed when he didn't answer the phone. So she came round and found him half conscious in the bath. She couldn't lift him out. So she got the next door neighbor to help. She says he was alive then. Just he died in the ambulance >> postmortems in the morning. >> Oh uh yeah sir. >> Yes. >> Either someone rang the evening post or their man was listening

in when Ector buzzed us. He turned up shortly after I did. >> Yes. Sam Ruddles. >> Well, that's the one. He asked a few questions and then set off for the hospital. At least I think that's where he was going. >> You've got everything sewn up so nicely. I don't see why you needed to bother me. >> Thank you, sir. >> Incidentally, why did you? >> What >> bother me? Mr. DL out of reach. Mr. Hedingley busy. >> I'm not sure what's going on, sir. >> Going on? What do you mean? >> Something seems to

have come up at the hospital >> to do with this case. >> I don't think so. When Hector reported this lot, Mr. Daks was still alive. >> Mr. headingly went to the hospital, but About half an hour later, he rang me and said Dicks was dead and his daughter was under sedation. >> Then he said something had come up and asked me to contact you. He was going to be occupied with this other thing. >> What about Mr. DL? >> Well, I asked if he wanted me to get hold of Mr. DL, too, but he

said there was no need for that. He sounded very cy. He said he'd explain to you later. >> I see. Well, I'll have a word with the next door neighbor. Then I'm off to the hospital. And if I find George Hedingley in intensive care, it'll just about justify my getting mixed up in this lot. >> I take it all back. You've got yourself a real mess there, George. You can say that again. I'm sorry I got you called out, but I got this feeling I was going to be needed mopping up after DL. And I

was right. >> What the hell was he doing driving Around with Annie Charworth? >> Careful. Charlessworth's a respected member of the community. All right. So, he's a bookie and a bit of a hard case. Not the kind of man we should be seen taking favors from, but he's completely legit and he's a big charity man. Mayor's parlor, Rotary, Masons. He's welcome everywhere. >> So, it's only suspicious bastards like you and me who'll be worried about DL Hobnobbing with this respectable citizen. >> I hope so. But I've got a nose for trouble, Peter. It's not Charlessworth

that bothers me. It's this other thing. and Sam Rutlesden. >> Oh, God. Is Sam Ruddlesden on to this? >> He rang me and asked about the Deak's case. I said you were on it and I was sure you'd be pleased to cooperate fully with the press. >> Oh, thanks a lot. >> And then he asked dead casual about the accident. Said he understood Mr. DL was a passenger and Arie was driving. >> Well, that's all right then. >> Wait for it. I was just going to ring off when he said, "But it was Mr. DL's

car, wasn't it?" >> What was it? I didn't know. I'd assumed it was Charlesworth's. I waffled round it, but he got me worried. >> God knows what that Darth doctor said to him. >> What could he say? Westerman's last words about the driver being pissed. I mean, that's all. >> That's enough. That doctor had managed to work up a fair head of steam. Even when Anie said he was the driver didn't calm him down. Not that I didn't have some sympathy with him. Bloody Charworth just stood there puffing out cigar smoke and sneering like he

was saying, "That's my story. prove different. >> You don't think there could be anything Different, do you? >> No, not Andy DL's style. Mind you, he was as drunk as I'd ever seen him. I was good as locked him in his office and told the lads on the exchange not to put any calls through. By the way, the deputy chief constable approved everything, even onto my handing the de's inquiry onto you. Not that I wouldn't soon have it back and leave someone else to deal with old chubby cheeks. >> Well, thanks for briefing me. I'll

tread carefully with this dastardly doctor. >> Yes, do that. >> The said dastardly doctor, John Saen, turned out to be an overworked young man in his 20ies, handsome enough to have all the nurses falling over backwards for him, but too tired at the moment to take advantage of such gymnastics. He agreed wearily to take me down to the hospital morg, so that I could see for myself all that was left of Robert Deaks. Three bodies laid side by side, sheetated and labeled. >> Uh, this is your man, Inspector Robert Deaks. There. See? Cuts to throat

and shoulders. Bruises here and here. >> Yes. Nasty. I'd say certainly caused by a fist. >> Hard enough to damage the knuckles. >> Possibly. H. Well, thanks. That'll do until the pathologist takes a look. >> Well, you won't need a pathologist to Tell you how the next one died. >> No. Why is that? >> Road accident. Haven't you heard? >> It's hard to keep track of all the road deaths. More is the pity. And the next one. How about him? >> Well, at least he's straightforward. Poor old devil. Died of exposure on a playing field,

would you believe? >> I wasn't really interested, but I wanted to avoid discussing the road accident. Dr. Saen drew back the sheet that Covered body number three. And I looked at the late Thomas Arthur Parinder. A thin aqualine face which might have been carved out of marble, but for a patch of broken skin on the left temple. Rum. Was he drunk? >> I don't think so. He had a half bottle in his pocket. It smashed when he fell, but the seal was unbroken. >> You're doing our work now. So, what happened? um slipped in the

mud as he was taking a shortcut across the Recreation ground. Broke his hip. He must have lain there for hours and he wasn't very warmly clothed. >> That wound on his head. >> He must have gone down a real walop and cracked his head on a stone. >> Which hip did he break? >> Um the right one. Why? >> He he broke it by falling on it. >> Yes. >> Then wouldn't you expect any damage to the head and the fall to be on the right Side too? Um, this is on the left. >> The

right side would be more likely. Yes. But the body's capable of infinite contortions, especially an old poorly coordinated body out of control in a fall. If you're hinting at a mugging, I looked in his pocket to see his name. >> And he had his pension book with several banknotes inside it and a purse with a lot of silver. >> I see. I think you and your colleagues Could usefully take a course on suspicious circumstances. what to ignore and what to follow up. Now, if you finished, I'll see you out. Thank you. He made no bones

about speeding the parting guest. Not that I minded. There wasn't much else I could learn that night, or so I thought. I'd reckon without the fourth estate. >> Good evening, Mr. Pascal. >> Hello, Sam. Not feeling up to the mark. >> You what? >> This is a hospital. What brings you here? >> Same as you. I expect >> the deets case. >> That too. But I wanted another word with Dr. Sneer if he can spare a moment. >> Um, what is it? >> Just to check on what you thought Mr. Westerman said before he died.

>> Look, I'm not sure I should really be Talking to the press about it. I mean, a patient's dying words. In a sense, they're confidential. >> Like a confession, you mean? I can see that. And I won't quote you. Well, probably not. But something else came up after I spoke to you. >> Oh. >> The accident happened in Paradise Road, didn't it? I thought perhaps Mr. Dell and Mr. Charlessworth might have been coming from the Paradise Hotel, and I Was right. I spoke to the owner. They had dinner there. I got a hint that Mr.

Dell was a trifle the worse for wear when they left. Not that that signifies as he was the passenger, >> only Only what >> only I thought I'd get a bit of background on Westerman. So I called at the towers where he was staying and it turns out that the burs are there had had dinner at the Paradise Hotel too. She doesn't know Mr. DL from madam but she knows Mr. Charlessworth by sight and she said when she was leaving she saw the two of them getting into a car. Only it wasn't Arie Charworth who

got into the driving seat and drove away. It was the fat drunk one, a quote, of course. >> And that left a question mark hovering over Andy Diel's massive head. But that was George heading this problem, not mine. I got home to Ellie well after midnight. Unfortunately, by then I was as tired as Dr. Sen. Next morning she was off early. >> There's plenty of stuff in the fridge. Peter, >> look, you're all right for a few days, but if you heat up any of the pre-cooked stuff, be sure to cook it thoroughly. And better

not use the microwave. Stick to the cooker. >> The cooker and I have met before. >> Your clean underweares in the second drawer down in the back. >> And that's a chair. And that's a table. And there's a door. I hadn't lived with a liberated woman these past 70 years or whatever without becoming moderately self-sufficient. >> Bosch. Any more of that and I'll leave Rosie in your charge. >> I wouldn't mind. She's a pleasant prospect than anything I've got to look forward to. Nappy changing and all. >> Bye, Rosie. >> One for me. >> Bye,

darling. Give my love to the old folk. >> I will. >> She went off cheerfully enough, but I could tell it was something of an effort. I knew my wife and she was worried. I thought about my father-in-law. old age, lurking in the shadows with a sandfilled sock to knock us all out in the end. This cheerless thought brought me back to my duties in the hospital Morg. No shocks at the postmortem. The pathologist confirmed everything Dr. Saen had said. The odd thing was that the most straightforward case bothered me the most. I went away

thinking of Thomas Arthur Paringer. All right, it was probably a simple mishap. Old man slips, breaks it, dies from exposure. But the butt stuck. So I sent for one of our brighter young constables, Dennis Seymour, and dispatched him on what might well prove to be the wildest of Wild goose chases. Just go over the area where Parinder was found, and see if you can spot anything that might have caused a wound on his temple. A stone, a bit of wood, anything that would bruise and break the skin if he fell on it. >> Yes, sir.

Something that might be blood stained. >> Maybe, maybe not. Collect anything that looks at all possible. A protuberance about 2 in in diameter, according to the Pathologist. I'm sending Constable Hector with you, by the way. >> Yes, sir. Hector hardly qualified as a lovely surprise, but I reckoned it was Seymour's turn to put up with him. I wondered fleetingly what DL would say about this diversion of manpower. Then I remembered that he had other things on his mind this particular morning. >> Bloody hell. >> Morning, sir. >> Morning, George. >> I must say the canteen

does a bloody good fry up if you're feeling up to it. >> There's murder in welfare lane. How we doing? >> Pasco is handling that, Mr. G. >> Yeah, so you said last night. >> Yes. Yes, I do remember. >> What made you drag him out? The deputy chief's just come in, sir. He'd like a word if you don't mind. >> Is that what he said? If I don't mind. >> Not exactly. >> All right. >> Well, you go and tell him, George. You tell him. Sir, you tell him. I'll be along. Andy, come you

in. Sit down. Look, I'm sorry, but the thing is this. We've got ourselves a bit of a problem. >> You've got a problem. How can C help? Something personal. Someone putting the black onto maybe. You can rely on me, sir. >> You were involved in a car accident last night. >> I was in a car that was involved in an accident. That's right. >> It was your car. So, you were involved whether you were driving or not. >> Weather. There's no weather about it. I wasn't. I've had the editor of the Post onto me. One

of his reporters has unearthed a witness who says she saw you getting into the driver's seat of your car Outside the Paradise Hotel and driving away. >> She a lady of unimpeachable character and as far as I know, excellent eyesight. >> Had she been drinking? Maybe. >> Not so that anyone noticed, though you apparently had. >> That's likely right. That'll be why I didn't drive. Arie Charworth drove. You'll know him being a gambling man. Anie's not a drinker. Was once, but now He doesn't touch the stuff. It'll all be in his statement. You've got his

statement. >> Yes, Andy. I've got his statement. >> Grant. Now, let's get on to this problem of yours, shall we? >> Andy, what you must understand is our need to appear absolutely impartial in this. The editor of the Post behaved very responsibly by putting the information in my hands. >> Information? What information? I've told You what happened. Is somebody trying to make a liar out of me? >> There's also the matter of Dr. Sen of the County General. He claims the deceased said something before dying which implied he thought you were the driver of the

car. All this could be very damaging if the Post decided to use it. Worse, of course, if one of the less scrupulous national papers took it up. >> I've had enough of this bloody journalists. Who runs the police in this Country? All the newspapers. >> Sit down and shut up. Now, Mr. DL, let me tell you something. All that's bothering the press at the moment is whether a drunken police officer is trying to wrigle out of a manslaughter charge. Bothers me, too. But what bothers me almost as much is what the hell you were doing

consorting with Arnold Charworth. >> Why? What's wrong with Arie? >> Has it escaped your notice? you who Usually manage to know what's in my intray before I get near it. That Arnold Charlessworth is currently being investigated by customs and excise for evasion of betting tax. Just imagine what the press will make of that when it comes out. Senior police officer entertained by crooked bookie. What the hell are you playing at? >> There's now been proved against Arie. He's an old mate of mine. Any road. I notice you don't ask me who else was Eating with

us. >> Not the Archbishop of Canterbury. >> No, Barney Castle. Barney Castle. >> Major Barney Castle. >> Who the devil's he? Something big in the Sally Army. I suppose >> you'll have heard of Sir William Pledger. Hraftoft Grange. >> I've heard of Sir William Pledger. Yes. >> Big major. The chief constables. >> Is he? >> Yes. You can ask the chief yourself when He gets back from his trip to the Bahamas. >> What's this to do with you and >> Major Castle? Sir William Pledger's estate manager. He knows the chief pretty well too through arranging

shooting parties and the like. Arie Charlesworth's been up to Haycraft Graange, too. That's how he knows the major. I thought I might try it myself. I've got an open invitation. >> I'm not much in favor of blood sports. >> Anyway, all this is beside the point. A policeman's got to be more careful than anyone else. What's all right for the public at large may not be all right for him. Look, Andy, I you know how some people like to make mountains out of mole hills. Might be a good idea to keep your head down for

a couple of days. You must be a bit shaken up. You've got plenty of back leave and you've been pushing yourself a bit Lately. >> You want me to take some of me holidays then? Not sick leave. >> Holiday, sick leave, whatever you like. Go to Aapulco, Tibet, anywhere. So long as you don't talk to reporters. Understood. >> Understood. >> Andy. >> Yes. Are you quite sure you weren't driving? >> Andy DL had never liked the deputy Chief. He said unfairly that the DCC couldn't solve a kid's crossword and accurately that he kept not in

his hospitality cupboard but Sherry. The DCC on his side found his head of C consistently troublesome and intermittently appalling which in the present circumstances was a pity. One murder, one road accident, one death from exposure. When I set out to interview Robert Deaks's daughter, it seemed to me that The murder, paradoxically, was going to turn out the most straightforward case of the lot. Ah, how wrong can you be? >> Exit lines by Reginald Hill with Donald G as Inspector Pasco. Three old men died on the same November night. One lay out in the rain with

a broken hip and died from cold and exposure. One was killed in a road accident. And the third was beaten to death in his bath by an unknown Intruder. But even while Inspector Peter Pasco investigated the brutal killing of Robert Deaks, he began to wonder whether the other deaths were quite as straightforward as they seemed. Part two. What does it signify? He didn't answer the phone, Inspector. So, I went straight round. >> He hasn't been the same since he had a bad turn two years ago, and I was worried. I rang the bell, but nothing

Happened, so I let myself in. >> Dolly Frostic, Robert Deaks's daughter. She'd been a pretty woman in her time, but now she looked haggarded, and her eyes were red with crying. She began her statement calmly enough, but the calm didn't last. >> I knew at once something terrible had happened. The place was in a mess. I found him in the bath, just conscious. You know the rest of it. >> When the ambulance got him to hospital, The doctor said he was dead. There was nothing they could do. It was all over. I couldn't make sense

of it. It's It's not how it should be. >> It's all right, Mr. Frosted. Take your time. >> I'm sorry. >> Did you go over most days? >> I went when I could. He was very independent. he wouldn't come to live with us. So, I did offer and he came out of the hospital. He Stayed with Alan and me for a bit, but he he wanted to go home. And well, he and Alan got on each other's nerves. Dad wasn't easy. I could see that. Alan kept talking about next door and saying, "Suppose he gets

like that." >> Next door. >> Mabel Gregory next door. She's got a father living with him. Ah, >> he's over 80 and he gets confused. Half the time he doesn't know where he is and he thinks Mabel's her own mother. It must be pretty awful for her. >> Oh, I don't know how she stands it. It's just about driven her Jeff mad and Andrea, that's their daughter, up and left home earlier this year. Sometimes I thought there's no way around it. Dad's got to come here. And then I've I've heard the noise from next door.

And I've not been able to face it. >> And now I know that if I had faced it, he'd be here and alive instead of instead of >> that. I'm sorry, Inspector. Doesn't help, does it? >> Is there anything else you wanted to ask me? >> It's very little more. >> Did your father keep any valuables in the house or money? >> He didn't have any valuables, >> but he had his pension from his work. He didn't have a bank account. Once I found a pile of notes in an old kettle. I was really cross

with him. >> I made him put it in a building society. There was about £100. Sometime as soon as you feel able, we'll have to ask you to come to the house and check if there's anything missing. >> Do I have to? >> I'm afraid so. No one else would know. >> Not today. I couldn't today. >> Well, tomorrow. Tomorrow morning. >> Well, I suppose I better get it over. >> Tomorrow morning, then. There's one more thing. Your father was still alive when You found him. Did he say anything at all that you remember? >>

Only Charlie. Charlie, >> that's our son. He and his granddad were very close. >> Dad lent him the money to buy an engagement ring. >> So Charlie's engaged? >> Yes. To Andrea next door. I suppose dad must have been thinking of him wanting to see him. >> Does Charlie live at home? >> Oh no, he's in the army. He couldn't get a job, so he joined up this summer. >> Mhm. Where's he stationed? >> In Germany. He was right close to us at first in Elder Camp doing his training with the Mid Yorkis, so we

saw plenty of him. Then three weeks ago, they sent him to Germany. This is not right. He's just got engaged and he's so young, only 18. She started to sob again. Tears had never been very far away. But now I Guessed she was weeping not for a dead father, but for a lost son. On impulse, I drove to Elterville camp. It was only a few miles away. No doubt Charlie really was in Germany, but there was no harm in checking. I interviewed a moderately cooperative sergeant in the military police. He was in the guard house

drinking tea with two henchmen, a Burley Welshman and a Ramrod straight lance corporal. Charlie was in Germany. All right. >> Charlie Frostic. Yeah. His father was in this morning asking if we could get his co to pass the news on say case. He'll likely get compassionate. His granddad wasn't. >> That's right. beaten to death in the bath. Probably in the course of a robbery. >> Poor old sod right bastards about. Would you like a cuper inspector? Any char corporal you like? >> No, but I I can make some fresh. >> Thanks, but don't bother. I

can't stay. >> What sort of a lad was Charlie? >> He was a fair soldier. Good shot, reliable. Only Blackie put up was getting back at all hours for a morning parade. >> Getting back? You mean he was sleeping at home? >> I doubt it. He was screwing some bin who worked in a hotel. Now right, Corpalon, >> that's what I heard. S >> didn't you never meet a norn? I thought You was a bit of a mate of Frostix letting him sneak in late and that. >> What's that? You best be sure of what

you're saying, Corporal Price. >> Only joking. I saw her once at a camp dance. Painted like a fairground sideshow, but I wouldn't have minded rolling my penny down her shoot. >> Less of that. Show some respect. Well, anything else we can do, Inspector? >> I don't think so. I just wanted some Background. I'm glad to hear he'll get compassionate leave. Thanks for your help, Sadum. >> Pleasure. >> When I checked at the station, I found that George Hedingley had left a message to say he was lunching at the Duke of York pub if I was

interested in joining him. I shouldn't have been. I'd had my hands full with the Deak's case, but I picked up the vibes. George was worried about the car that had killed Philip Westerman and the possible involvement of our own super Andrew Dell. Fat Andy, drunk Andy, who might just might have been driving that car. I was late, of course. As I pulled into the Duke of York's car park, George Hedingley was making for his car on the point of leaving. >> Hello, George. Sorry I'm so late. >> I just about given you up. I'm on

my way to see this Warsop woman. >> Oh, the one who says Andy Dell was Driving that car. >> That's her. Huh? >> Berser at the Tars where poor old Westerman was staying. >> The old people's holiday home. >> I know it. >> Look, why don't I leave my car here and let you drive me? Then we can go on together and have a word with them at the Paradise Hotel. >> I've got work of my own. The Deak's case, remember? And what about my lunch? >> I'm sure they'll find some leftovers for you. And

you wouldn't like it here at the Dukes anyway. They've taken against cops since last night, muttering about drunken policemen already. >> Who's been putting ideas into their heads? >> Likely it's that reporter from the Post. Oh, Sam Ruddles didn't. That figures. All right, let's go. >> How's your morning been? >> Oh, not too bad. Had a word with Barney Castle. >> Remind me. >> Major Barney Castle, William Pledger's estate manager, the third man. >> Hey. Oh, yes. He had dinner with DL and Charlessworth last night. >> That's right. He confirms that it was Charlessworth driving

the car that killed Westman. >> Ah, there we are then. Nice, respectable witness. Cut and dried. >> Let's hope so. >> Anyway, what's your line with this Mrs. Warsop? >> To listen to her story. Hope she's a bit vague and try to suggest politely that she should keep her big mouth shut. >> I had observed your Mr. DL earlier. He was dining with two other men, Major Castle from Hraftoft Graange and a book maker called Charlessworth. >> Do you know them? >> Not personally, no, but they've both been pointed out to me on other Occasions.

And why did you observe Mr. DL, as you he put it? >> Because of his vulgar and boisterous behavior. He was extremely loud, and he kept on patting the waitress's person, though she didn't seem the type to mind. I had no idea that this noisy boore was in fact a senior police officer. >> You say you're sure Mr. DL was driving? >> Quite sure. >> Mrs. Warsop, a view through a glass doorway into a darkened car park isn't The most reliable. I was actually outside the hotel. I wanted a breath of air and the front

of the hotel is very well lit. >> Did you see Major Castle go out into the car park after the two other men? >> No. He must have stayed in the dining room. >> How long before you left yourself? >> About 5 minutes. I was waiting for my friend. And now, if you'll excuse me, this is a particularly busy morning. Whatever else the lady is, she isn't vague. >> Indeed, she isn't. But according to Major Castle, DL's car passed him when he was on his way to his own bus parked around the side. And he's

adamant that Charlessworth was driving. Why did Castle stay behind? To have a word with a waitress, he says. To pat her person, perhaps. Castle's story contradicts Mrs. Warsop's. So, who's making mistakes? What was he a major in? >> The Mid Yorkys. >> Ah, Charlie Frostic's outfit. >> Yes. I looked a castle up. >> He got out in 79. He'd been in Hong Kong, made some contact with Sir William Pletcher there. Followed it up and landed this job. >> You've been working fast. >> George H. >> What precisely is it you're doing? How do you see

your function? Well, I'm doing a proper job looking Into the accident, but mainly I reckon so that the deputy chief can save his ass that we are doing a proper job. And here's George Hingley to prove it. >> Here we are. >> Who owns this place? >> Couple called Abbies. She's by way of being a beauty, I gather. >> No, I wouldn't know. I don't fly this high. >> How high? I didn't know till I looked at the lunchon menu. Pissed or sober, there Was no way Andy Deielle had pay that for a bowl of

soup. So, who did pay? There was a woman behind the bar. A beauty. Not quite the word, but she was very striking. Jet black hair tumbling about her shoulders and huge black eyes staring from a pale prolite face like visitors from another world. >> Can I help you? >> Good day. >> Hello. Would Mr. Abbis be in? >> I'm Stella Abbis. Will I do? >> Just a small matter of clearing up a couple of points regarding the accident last night. >> Well, the old man from the towers. >> Yes, that's the one. I'm sorry to

inconvenience you. It's just a matter of getting the picture clear. >> You want to know how drunk the fat man was? >> Well, yes, for a start. >> Depends how drunk five large scotches, a Bottle and a half of Burgundy, and three balloons of cognac would make him. >> But how drunk do you think that would be? >> Why don't you ask him yourself? >> Beer. A pint of your best for me, lass, and a couple of pints of your second best for this pair of trainees who ought to be too busy to drink it.

>> You might throw in three portions of cold game pie. It's delicious, lads. I tried it last night. Fancy a slice of That, eer? The pie? >> No, the other dish. It's not your speed, though. Burn you up with her exhaust while you were still looking for first gear. >> Mixing your metaphors, aren't you, sir? The fruits of your own gun, if I remember right, love. >> Yes. >> Now, Peter, what are you doing here? I knew old George had been set to sniff around after me, but I thought you had Other things on your

plate. >> Just along to see the fa heard the fire engine and couldn't resist coming along to see the fire. >> He's along because of me, sir. We were meeting at the Duke of Yorks, and I asked him to give me a lift up here. >> More to the point, maybe. What are you doing here, sir? >> Me? I'm on holiday. Don't you think you should tell Inspector Heading exactly why you're here? >> What do you think, Peter? Cover my tracks, cut out a few tongues, any road, was it to you? If it's Jolly Georgio

I should be pouring my soul out, too. How come you're asking the questions? I don't see his hand up the back of your jacket. >> Just call it vulgar curiosity. >> That's all right then. >> Here you are. >> Oh, thank you. >> Anything else? I have to go, I'm afraid. I'm serving in the dining room today. >> No, that's fine, love. We'll need refills, but not yet. Oh, by the way, you didn't happen to find my Trillby when you tidied it up last night, did you? >> I have a look. >> Well, what have

you got so far, Sherlock? >> One of your fellow diners saw you drive off in your car. >> H, so the DCC said >> by chance she worked at the towers, so the man that got knocked down was staying. >> Ah, emotionally involved. Not the best witness. Any old she looks like a troublemaker. You've seen her then? >> Only last night, if she's the one I'm thinking of. She was hanging around the hallway when I came out. Late 30s, black hair, mouth pursed up like a cat's ass. I noticed her earlier looking at our table

like she'd have been glad to chuck Us out. H works at the towers, does she? The way she ordered her grub and signed her bill, I would have thought she was a princess of the blood, at least. >> Unfortunately, your impressions aren't evident, sir. Either she's right or she's mistaken. Which? >> Who knows? Maybe she's mistaken. It was a nasty night. Rain and sleep, poor visibility. Easy to get things wrong. On the other hand, >> yes, we could always have stopped along the road and changed over, couldn't we? So maybe she's right. Excuse me. I

was so angry that I didn't trust myself to say anything more. What the hell was DL playing at? Keeping his options open till he checked with the other witnesses. It was time I got back to town. A Paradise Hotel catered for gentlemen as opposed to gents. I emerged calmer, but still too angry to rejoin the others immediately. The sight of the alloring Mrs. Abbis approaching with a tray of drinks detained me, not unpleasantly. >> Mrs. Abbis, can I have a word? >> About last night. You better talk to my husband. He's in the kitchen. >>

I'd rather talk to you. >> I'm serving in the dining room. Well, surely one of your minions could manage that. >> We have no minions. >> No one. But you can't run a hotel single-handed. >> The hotel closes down in October. We don't get enough offse custom to make it worthwhile, so there's just the restaurant. A girl comes in from the village, but only at nights. >> We did have another girl living in, but she's left. I'm afraid I'll have to go. Oh, >> then where is the kitchen? >> Um, through that door there. Uh,

>> thank you. Mr. Rabbis. >> Yes. What do you want? >> Detective Inspector Pastor, I wonder if you see I'm busy. >> Stella. >> All right. There we are. Right. Stella, take these through, will you? Two helpings of that it yellow stuff. That oath. >> Thank you. Some people. Only the third time he's been and he acts as if he's bought the place. There's only the two of us. So lunch you are putting off the trolley and our trolley is a cornucopia on wheels. But this Philistine says Jeremy third time is here and it's Jeremy.

What we really fancy is some of that ite. And up yours too, says this wild tale. Well, you can whip us up a bit of that, can't you, Jeremy? I tell him I can't, and he gets nasty. These prices up here In York, you folk expect a hot meal. These aren't cold meal prices, Jeremy. Time to push a pudding in his face. But what a waste. So, I capitulate. I bow. I scrape. I come in here and I create. >> You certainly do in every sense. >> Well, I have to get rid of it. Thanks

for listening. Does me good. Now, what can I do for you >> last night? Superintendent DL, how was he? >> Bit pissed. He drinks like a man with a Hollow leg. But he didn't get too obnoxious. Not by our standards. Even sober, most of our customers talk at 100 dB. Either it's the defiant bellow of self-made brass or the arrogant breay of inherited wealth. We've got to make a lot of noise before you're reprimanded at the Paradise Hotel. Especially if you're a policeman and you're with Arie Charworth. >> Mr. Charlessworth is a valued and valuable

customer, as is Major Castle. As I hope Superintendent DL will become, but in answer to your unsuttle insinuation, I had no idea I was feeding the fuzz last night until that journalist greased his way in here. >> What about your other customers? We might want to talk to some of them, especially any who left at the same time as Mr. Charworth. >> Well, I can't say I noticed who left then. We were very busy. >> Not even Mrs. Warsop. >> Mrs. Warsop. >> Mrs. Darin Warsop. Versa at the towers. She was dining here last night

and she left at the same time as Mr. Charles. >> Really? >> Mhm. >> Well, I can't be expected to remember all their comingings and goings. Our girl who comes in was suffering from some form of adolescent hysteria. And our girl who lived in till a couple of hours ago was clearly determined on a Bit of a farewell sabotage. So I hardly had time to notice a face. The D is wallpaper. Just human wallpaper. >> Rubbish. You've got regulars. You've got people signing their bills. You're telling me you don't know where to send their accounts?

>> Well, of course, I could put you in touch with most of my customers, but frankly, I don't want to. I mean, could you think of anything more likely to frighten the regulars away than the Thought that they're under surveillance? >> Yes. The site of your name in the paper for impeding the police. >> But that would be a splendid free advertisement. It would give the world my address and tell them how loyal I was to my patrons. In any case, what reason can you give me for wanting those names? >> We want to interview

witnesses. >> To what? Has a crime being committed? Oh, not here. Along the road. Well, Mr. Charlesworth says he was driving the car Involved, and I can certainly vouch for his sobriety. And I believe he was breathalyzed. >> You're well informed. >> Well, you can thank the Evening Post for that. So, what can the state of Mr. L's health have to do with anything. Perhaps I should have another chat with Mr. Ruddston. Look, Inspector, surely we're on the same side. We all want a good press, don't we? >> I think my colleague, Mr. Hedingley, will

probably want to take the matter further, but it's up to him. I must come round and try this Zabal Leone someday, but only if it's on the menu. Oh, >> for you, sweetie. It's always on. I mean, we can't have our prettier policeman going short, can we? I didn't know what to make of him. The campery was no more than an act for the customers, but the covered threats followed by the sly implications of, "Surely we're on the same side. We all want a good press. If I understood what he meant, I didn't care for

it." I left George to look after Andy and took myself back to the station. An avenging angel was waiting for me in the shape of the deputy chief. >> Where the hell have you been? That blasted journalist rang up to pump me about the accident. And when I suggested he should turn his attention to the deak's case, he told me he'd been Trying to raise the officer in charge of it, and nobody could tell him where he was. >> Well, sir, actually, >> Sergeant Wheel tried the Duke of York, but you never got there? >>

I was out at the Paradise Hotel, sir. >> And what the devil were you doing there? >> I was there with Inspector Hedingley. >> And was DL there? >> Well, quite coincidentally and unofficially, Actually. I was there with Mr. Hedingley. Coincidentally, too, during my official refreshment break, Mr. DL came there quite legitimately to retrieve his hat. His hat? Yes. He left it there last night. Now, listen to me. You are on the Deak's case. Full stop. The other business is headingless province. So far as it's anyone's, I do not, repeat, not want evil-minded journalists implying

that all my senior officers have been switched to some sort Of cover up operation. Understood? Life was very unfair. Sergeant Wield assured me that in my absence nothing whatever had required my attention with one exception. Constable Seymour had reported back from the fool's errand I'd sent him on. I took a deep breath and switched my attention to death number three. Thomas Arthur Parinder found in the recreation ground dead from exposure it seemed but with a wound on his left temple. I'd sent our Brightest and best, Constable Seymour, and our dumbest and worst, Constable Hector, to

see if they could find anything that might have caused the damage. >> We've collected several sackfuls of stones, sir. No sign of blood stains, but it had been raining. >> Yes. Well, we're looking for a needle in a hay stack, I'm afraid. >> I had a word with the chap who found Him. >> Reliable? >> Seems quite reliable. >> Middle-aged, unemployed, anxious to help. He pointed out the exact spot where Palender was lying and uh went to Clarendon Court where the old gentleman lived. It's sheltered housing. The warden there was surprised he'd gone out on

such a nasty night. Seems he'd been in all morning with a bit of a cold, but the warden hadn't seen him around later On. He was wellliked apparently. I were a good lad. Tap tap. That's what everyone called him. >> Oh, from his initials, I suppose. Ta Parinder sprry and lively and right independent. Not like some right here. Never off your back. There's a happy medium though. What do you mean? There are alarm switches in every room. Look, here's taps. They set off a light in a bell outside the flat door. See how they got

cords reaching down to the floor? The idea is if anyone has a fall, he can still pull the switch and I'll be right along. A >> busy job being one here. >> Not as busy as it might be. Come over here. Look, there's the bathroom switch, but where's the cord? He's taking it off. A lot of them do that. Afraid they might pull it by accident instead of the light cord, and I might come rushing in and find them in the bathroom on the throne. One old lady set hers off and was so embarrassed, next

thing I knew, she'd taken all the fuses out. Can you beat it? He was a racing man, you said. >> Yeah. Waste of time and money. But I suppose it's a hobby like any other. >> Any family? one daughter in Canada. His wife died 15 years ago. >> Any particular friends? >> He didn't get any visitors, but there's two or three here he's quite thick with. Mrs. Escott at number 28 was probably The closest. Only the last 6 months or so she started going. >> Going where? >> Up here. Oh, getting confused. It's the early

stages so far. Some days she's quite all right, but she's going, poor dear. Uh, finished in here? >> I think so. But I'd like to talk to Mrs. Escort. Right. I'll take you up to her. >> Your team, Mr. Seymour. >> Uh, thank you, Mrs. Escuit. >> Yes, I I did see Mr. Parinder on Friday. I called at 2 and he was watching racing on television. We had a cup of tea and talked for about an hour. >> Did he say anything about going out later? >> No, but that doesn't surprise me. He wasn't a

secretive man, but he was very independent. >> Did he drink a lot? >> Oh, no. He he liked a drop of rum when he could afford it, but he wasn't what You'd call a drinker, >> Mr. Seymour? >> Yes. >> All these questions. Was Mr. Parinder attacked by someone this morning? They just said he'd fallen and broken something. >> We don't know, but don't you worry about it. Maybe it was just an accident. That's what I'm trying to find out. >> That recreation ground is a dreadful place when it's dark. All those muggings You read

about. I won't go near the place. I don't even like it much in daytime either. Poor Tap. More tea, Mr. Seymour. >> No, no, no, no. Thank you very much, Mrs. Escuit. That was a lovely cup, but I had tea with the warden as well. I wonder could I use your bathroom? >> Certainly. It's that door there. >> Thank you. >> Where's the light? Oh, no. Oh, hell. So, the warden saw Parinder Friday morning, and Mrs. Zescott was with him a good chunk of Friday afternoon. How compass was she? You said something about her being

confused. >> Well, that's what the warden said, sir. But she seemed perfectly all right to me. >> Nice old lady. Maybe it was one of her good days. >> If I remember right, he had his pension Book on him with about 30 quid. Right. >> Uh, sorry, sir. I don't know. I did ask, but I was told that his things were still at the hospital. >> Did you want me to go there? >> No, no, no, no. Don't bother. No. accidental deaths, uniforms affair, and so far we've no evidence of any crime. I expect it's

just what it seems. Parinder feels better late Friday, goes out, picks up his pension, buys the rum, slips on the way home, breaks his hip, And lies there till he's almost dead. Poor devil. >> Is there anything else you'd want me to do about him? >> No, no, no. Don't not just now. I've probably been wasting your time. I'm sorry. >> Oh, by the way, he said something before he died. He said Polly. >> Polly. >> Any friends call Polly at Castleton Court or a relative? >> Not that I know of. The Cox, the fellow

who found him, said he seemed to be saying it to his dog. >> Whose dog? >> Cox. It's a great Dane as big as a horse. Apparently, it was the dog who found the old chap. It's called Hammy. >> Hammy? A Great Dane? Or perhaps Polly is short for Palonius, then? Is it? Huh? Never mind. My joke had fallen flat. I gave Seymour a verbal pat on the shoulder for a job Well done and turned my attention to the killing of Robert Deaks. I got nowhere. At 9:00 I went home to an empty house with

a blinding headache. Ellie called, and although the sound of her voice at the other end of the phone cheered me up, her news did nothing of the kind. She was increasingly worried about her father and said she felt she must stay till Monday and talk to the doctor herself. I was appropriately understanding and sympathetic, but when I put the phone down, I gave it a very nasty look. I missed her very much indeed. The phone promptly hit back. >> Inspector Pasco, I've only just thought of trying to get you at home. Perhaps I should have

tried there earlier. Sam Riddston here. >> Yes, Sammy, I know. What is it? Well, I've just got back and I'm worn out, so make it quick. I've read your report on the Deaks case. There's nothing I can Add to it, except perhaps balance. >> It isn't Deaks. In fact, it's hardly professional. More personal curiosity. I believe you and Inspector Hedley went along to the towers today and spoke to Mrs. Warsaw. >> I really can't discuss that. I just drove George Hedingly there. >> But you were present during the interview. >> Sammy, come and see me

on Monday, 10:00. Then I'd be happy to talk about the Deaks investigation. Hold on. All I want to know are the magic words. >> Sorry. >> The magic words you or George Hedingley used to Mrs. Worop. The clothes set. >> I'm afraid I don't know. >> Tonight she was certain she'd see Mr. DL driving away from the Paradise Hotel. But tonight she was suddenly doubtful. >> What? >> The weather was foul, the visibility poor, the distance great, and perhaps After all it wasn't Mr. Dell who got into the driving seat. Now why should this be

Mr. Pascal? I really would like to know. >> And he was not alone. What the hell did it mean? Anything or nothing? I was very tired. I put the phone down and cursed Sam Ruddles in. And not for the first time that day, I cursed Superintendent Andrew Dell. Exit Lines by Reginald Hill with Donald G as Inspector Pasco. Three deaths, three questions. Who killed Robert Daks? Who drove the car that knocked down Philip Westerman? And how did Thomas Parinder die? Inspector Peter Pasco wanted answers to them all. Part three, Fugger Bogner. I didn't look forward

to Sunday morning. I had to take Dolly Frostic Nay Deaks to her dead father's house to check on what was missing. Her husband Alan insisted on coming with us. He was small and a touch aggressive, so I'd have preferred Mrs. Frostic by herself, but in the event, he proved a godsend, comforting her and steering her through the quicksands of painful memories with a genuinely tender concern. By the time we'd finished, I'd forgiven him everything. So, that's all that's missing. A small transistor radio, half a dozen campaign medals from the war, and a watch with a

gold sovereign welded onto the chain. >> He always said that was to be Charlie's. Less than the medals. He wanted him to have the medals. >> Oh, he'll be able to win his own now, won't he, love? Come on, don't fret. Your dad always wanted Charlie to join up. He knew it was best for the land. Just think, love. You'll be seeing Charlie soon, and he'll tell you for himself. >> Now, Mrs. Frostic, think hard. Anything else you've noticed? Anything unusual? >> Yes, the back door. >> What about it? >> Well, that's how they got

in, isn't it? >> It looks like it. They broke the glass, put her hand through, and took the key out of the inside lock. I'm afraid he shouldn't have left it there. >> But he didn't. >> What? But that's >> No, I don't mean that. I I I know that must have been what happened. I mean, it's not like him. He never used to do that. Whenever he locked the back door, He put the key on the kitchen table. He was most particular about it. But he was failing. And I I knew he was failing.

Maybe if we paid more heat. >> He wanted to be on his own, Dolly. You know that. And he might have been particular about not leaving the key in the door, but he was tough enough to leave a key in the wash house. So, what's the difference? >> The wash house. Where's that? >> Out the back. He kept a spare key in the Old boiler. >> Can you show me? >> Out this way. >> Thank you. >> There you are. That's the boiler. It's never used now. You can see he kept a lot of rubbish

in it. Keys in the alter. >> So, I see. Not clever, huh? How many people knew it was there? What's the odds? He wasn't used for the breakin. >> Precisely. That's the interesting thing. >> I >> Well, who did know? >> Uh, family, of course. Some of his mates, I shouldn't wonder. Next door neighbor. Does it matter? >> Yes. Anyone who knew would have used this key instead of breaking in. >> What about money? Your wife said he sometimes kept cash in the house, and it appears he lent Charlie money to buy an engagement ring.

>> I know not about that, except it was Money badly spent. That little trup. Charlie's granddad must have liked her more than you did. >> No, he thought you were rubbish. >> Then why make the loan? >> Who knows how an old man's mind works? >> I never spoke too much myself. Miserable old booger. But we weren't agreed on miss bloody Andrea. I reckon he coughed up because Charlie had just told him he was joining the army. He'd have been overjoyed at that. >> I'll keep this key if you don't mind. >> Up to you.

Uh, have you done with Dolly now? >> I just want her to have a look at the bathroom. >> Where she found him? Oh, do she have to? >> Yes, I'm sorry to ask her, but we have to be thorough. >> Did all of this myself, nor the plumbing, of course. Cost a pretty penny, but it puts value on a house. People expect a bathroom these days. I Don't know how you managed without one, darling. >> Just a quick look, Mrs. Frostic. Has anything changed? >> Anything changed? It has? Oh, yes it has. This used

to be my room when I was a girl. Inspector, >> wait a minute. >> Yes, >> those scuffs on the paint, see on the side of the bath, >> and their marks on the floor, weren't There? >> Yes, I see the vinyl's soft enough to take an impression. Yes. Thank you. >> Probably a copper's big flat feet, >> maybe. Right, Mrs. Frostic. I'm sorry to have to put you through all this, but it's been a great help. I'll just get Sergeant Wield up here and take a look and then I'll drive you home. >> Wield

confirm my own thought. It would have taken a lot of pressure to make Those prints and possibly someone pushing poor old Deaks under. We'd know more after Forensic reported. We drew up in front of the Frostic's place just as a girl came out of the house next door. A girl with bleached blonde hair, magenta tipped, with an almost ceramic mask of makeup. This without a doubt was Andrea, Charlie's fianceé. >> Hello, Mrs. Frostic. Sorry to hear about your old dad. >> Oh, thank you, dear. Charlie's coming home for the funeral. Did your mom tell you?

>> Yeah. And when Charlie comes home, I'm going to tell him I want no more waiting. I want to be married straight off. >> Straight off? Andrea? What do you mean? >> I mean now, this week when he's home. >> But the church, you need a license. >> Register office. I'm not bothering with no license. My dad wouldn't want to Cough up anyway. >> But he's not allowed to. for the army. >> Oh, they haven't bought him body and soul, have they? His life's still his own. They have houses over there in Germany, married quarters.

They don't live in trees. >> You'd want to go back with him. >> Well, I wouldn't want to stay on here by myself. >> Are you in trouble, girl? >> No, I'm bloody not. Grow up. No one gets Into trouble nowadays. >> So, what's the hurry all of a sudden? You were going to wait till he got posted back here, and that'll be a sight too early for me. >> I've packed me job in. >> Ah, now we're getting to it. What have you been doing? >> Nothing. I got fed up. It's slave labor and

it's boring. Stupid toffee nose pear. Think they got gift. >> I see. No job, nowhere to live. Don't Want to come back home. So you think you'll grab our Charlie? >> I can get plenty of jobs. I got contacts. Maybe I won't go with Charlie, but I will if I want to. He'll want me to. We're engaged. Or don't you remember? It's >> the worst days work he ever did. >> Oh, get lost. >> That Andrea, I told you, Inspector, didn't I? Bloody little troll. You could see it when she was still at junior School.

A trolop mom? Not likely. She opened left when her grandfather was moved downstairs. I thought she'd clear off which only went as far as that hotel. Timber made a waitress. Supposed to be a classy place. And they take on the likes of her. >> Hold on. Which hotel? >> Oh, that clip joint paradise hotel. Living in. That was the attraction. Getting away from her family. She did not do that kind of work at home. So death number one was nudging into the territory of death number two, which dear old George Hedingley was investigating, not altogether

happily. At what officer would be happy looking into an accident that might have been due to his own boss's drunk driving? That Sunday morning, George was at his own request closeted with the deputy chief. He'd been as puzzled as I was by Mrs. Warsop's change of heart. >> So nothing you said could be taken as Inducing Mrs. Wars up to alter her story? >> No, sir. >> Then why did she alter it? >> I don't know. I certainly didn't put pressure on her, and if I tried, I wouldn't have got very far. Anyway, there are

two perfectly good witnesses that Mr. Dio, wasn't driving, and one of them, Mr. Charlesworth, admits he was driving. >> Yes. How did Charlessworth strike you? >> He just states things flatly, as if he's not much interested, if you believe him or not. One thing's certain, though. He wasn't drunk. Nothing but pererry water all night. Seems that all he ever does drink. >> A tea total bookie. Perhaps he's too worried to drink. I'd better check up on customs and excis's investigation into his business. H. This major castle seems reliable. Chap. >> Yes, sir. >> When was

it you saw him? >> Yesterday at the airport. He was meeting Sir William Pledger's guests. European VIPs coming by private plane. Uniform branch were there by the way. >> Were they now? What for? >> A customs and excise check. Seems Mr. DL had set it up. >> Did they find anything? >> No. All clear, >> sir. >> Yes. >> I wonder that is. Well, it's not very helpful if Mr. DL's around and I bump into him like yesterday. >> I understand. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I'll have a word with him now. Won't

be in church, will he? >> Yes, >> Andy. A moment of your time. >> Hey. >> Oh, yes, sir. >> I wanted to have a word. These are Difficult times for the police. Subversive propaganda and an irresponsible press. I suggested yesterday you might care to sample foreign parts. That was frivolous. But this isn't Andy. Andy, you there? >> If you're going to shout like that, where's the point in using the phone? >> What can I do for you, sir? >> As I was saying, this isn't frivolous. A short break out of Yorkshire might do you

the world of good. The South Coast, Eastborne, perhaps or Bogna Regis? Booger. Bug. >> What did Andy Dell have in common with the late King George V? No prizes offered. Ellie rang again on Sunday night. She sounded a bit more cheerful, so I hung on to the hope she'd be back as promised on Monday. In that hope, I settled down with a glass of beer and a slice of cold Pie to listen to the radio. I was interrupted. Guess who? >> Hello, sir. Is it a raid? >> Them merry quips will be your downfall, Peter.

A less aer man might take offense. >> Are you coming in? >> I am in. So I noticed. >> Oh, we don't want that, do we? >> Have I interrupted your supper? >> Uh, you care to join me? >> Why not? >> What's that you're eating? >> Chicken and ham pie. You care for a beer? Stupid question. Purely rhetorical. There you go. One beer and one slice of coal pie from the supermarket, I'm afraid. Not the fruits of a lovely lady's gun. >> Tickled your fancy that one, didn't she, Peter? Ellie away for long. >>

She'll be back tomorrow. And even if she Wasn't, I wouldn't be shooting off my gun all over Yorkshire. >> I'm doing a bit myself. >> What? Shooting. Bang. Bang. >> You mean shooting things? They tell me things are in season. >> Birds. You are going to shoot birds? Well, I asked about sheep. I wondered if they'd let me start with sheep. Being only a trainee, so to speak. Something a bit bulky and sort of static. But they tell Me sheep shooting's never caught on. It has to be birds. >> But why? I mean, you're not

the type. Yeah. You mean I'm not one of your tweety twits? I'm glad you've noticed. But it's not like that anymore. It's a popular sport. Pricey but popular. Cheap constables. Dab Andy, tell me. >> So why not me? >> Maybe I've got secret ambitions >> and secret funds. You said yourself it's pricey. >> Ah, it's a rich man's pleasure. But there are some generous rich men about. >> I'm on me holidays. I get asked to try my hand at a shoot tomorrow. Where's the harm? Depends on who's doing the inviting. >> Sir William Pledger. Ah,

>> he'll cough up in the long run. But it was his general manager, Barney Castle, who asked me. >> Make up your mind, lad. >> About what? >> About your expression? What's it to be? Amazement that I got invited or indignation that I accepted? >> Listen, lad. So, William Pledger came up from Nout and he's not forgotten it. It's not your chinless charlies who get asked to hoft graange. It's people with clout. People who know how to make people jump or money jump. That's what's on the ticket of entry. Any road. How about you? H

out new on the de's murder. No, not much. There's Some stuff missing. >> That might help if someone's dafted enough to flog it. >> Anything else going off? >> Well, another old fellow died the same night. >> Hi, Peter. I know. >> No, sorry, sir. No, I didn't mean him. No. A man called Parinda. He lived at Castleton Court. A chipper old boy, it seems. Bit of a racing man. He had a fall, broke his hip, lay there several Hours, and died of exposure. Only Only what? Come on, lad. Tell me about it. >> So,

that's it. There's nothing more to go on really. All injuries attributable to the fall. No evidence of robbery. I don't know why I'm even talking about it. I do. You've got one of them feelings and nothing short of a cold shower is going to get rid of it. >> Now, let's see what we've got. >> Parender, who's got a cold, goes out Late on a nasty, wet afternoon. Why? To collect his pension. >> Why did he want it then? To buy some rum. Where did he buy it? Where did he collect his pension for that

matter? You'd think he'd go local. There's a parade of shops and a sub post office right behind Castleton Court. He didn't need to go into town, but if he was crossing the recreation ground, he must have done. Pension money intact, except for the few quid he'd pay for the rum. It wasn't open, you say? >> No, the seal was intact, so he hadn't had a few nips. Better if he had. Might have kept out the cold a bit longer. Did you say anything before he died? Uh, only Polly attacked by a woman maybe. There's plenty

of pay for the pleasure. Yeah, it looks to me as if you got a sack fullen out, Peter. So, you just forget it. Um, I didn't say that. No, I'd have a good look at his possession. See if there's a receipt for the rum. Look at the post office stamp in his pension book. Check the lot. Ah, right. I'll be off now. Thanks for the bite. >> Ellie, is that you? >> Hey. Yeah. Sorry to disappoint you, lad. >> Oh, hello, sir. >> About that business that was niggling at you. >> Yes. You said he

was a racing man. >> Yes, that's right. >> I was looking at yesterday's paper. It's Got Friday's results in it. Last race at Chelenham was won by a horse called Polystyrene. Two words, just a thought. And that was enough to take me straight to the county general hospital next morning where I bumped into a very haggarded Dr. Sardin. >> You look dreadful. You ought to see a doctor. >> You look lost. You ought to ask a policeman. You've still got Parinder's belongings, haven't you? >> Yes. >> You don't give up, do you? You still think

there's something odd about his death? >> Uh, maybe, but no reflection on you, doctor. The pathologist found nothing suspicious, and most of my colleagues think I'm dafted. >> You an honest cop? Come on, I'm just going off duty. I'll take you to where You want to be. >> Is this the lot? Apart from his money in his pension book, they lock up valuables. >> Ah, found a clue. Receipt for the rum. Aha. Another clue. Pride paper. Look at the racing page. It's a bit smudged, but you can see he's ringing around one of the runners.

Polystyrene. What of it? And just before he died, he looked up, saw looming over him a dog as big as a horse, laughed, said, "Poly and Expired. >> Well, well, clever old you. But so what? >> It won at 4:1. >> I think I'm with you. >> Where are his winnings? In that bottle of rum, I'd suggest, not to mention his stomach. Apparently, he had a substantial meal before he died. >> And there's the receipt for it. Starbucks restaurant. >> But I wonder how his other selections did. Look, he's marked them here. Red Vanessa in

the 210. And Usheret in the 245. Yeah. >> Oh, >> what's up? Clue run out. >> No, he didn't go out till after 3, so he'd only have time to back polystyrene. >> Well, it's always the telephone. >> How to find out what kind of gambler he was? >> Well, thank you for your help. >> That other business? >> Yes, the road accident. I don't to cause Trouble, but I'd like to be certain that everything's been done that ought to have been done. >> I think I can assure you of that. >> Well, I'll keep

an eye on things if you don't mind. To sweeten the pill, let me buy you a drink next time I cross question you. >> You know where to find me? >> So, altogether with the meal and the rum, he must have spent £8.75. That right, sir? >> Yes. If he put a couple of quid of polystyrene at 4 to one, that would account for it, wouldn't it? >> I suppose so, but I'd like to know how the other two horses did. >> He didn't go out in time to back them. >> He could have telephoned.

Art, come in, Seymour. I've got a job for you. >> The same case, sir. >> Yes, this Parinder business. There may be something. Here's the receipt from the off license where he bought the rum. And here's the receipt for his last meal. See what you can find out of both places. >> Yes, sir. >> Oh, and Seymour. I see. >> Uh, here. Find out what won these races last Friday. >> He can read, can't he, Sergeant? >> Depends. Did you join up the letters? >> Read Vanessa by two lengths or Sharette by a short head.

>> Seymour, you're a racing man. >> I keep an eye open. >> Good. Well, get on with it then. >> Yes, sir. >> Those were Palander's selections. >> Yes. That explains why he went out then. Racy man marks three selections for the fun of it. Sees two of them come up on the telly. He'd be bound to want to chase his luck and make sure he was on the third. Thought it was his lucky day. Poor devil. >> Maybe. Any news on the Deak's case? >> Yes. I was waiting to show you forensics report. This

is the sole pattern for the marks on Deak's bathroom floor. Boots size 10 to 10 and 1/2. Army. >> Oh, didn't say it. No distinguishing marks. Wouldn't chance their arm. >> Well, if they won't, we must. I'll check it out at Elvail Camp. >> Well, Sergeant Meyers, could it be a print from a modern army boot? >> Could be. Could be anything. >> Sorry not to be of more help. >> That's all right. By the way, I came across one of your former officers the other day, Major Castle. Remember him? I remember the major. All

right. >> He seems to have done all right for himself. Got out and made it in Civy Street. >> That's what he didn't have much option. Civy Street's better than a court marshal. >> What? >> You talked to our Sergeant Llam. He was Company sergeant major in Hong Kong. Could have been regimental sergeant major by now. It's not right. There was a lot of graft going on over there. And if you were dafted enough to get caught, well, that was your bad luck. But it's not fair. The same thing as turns a sergeant major into

a private. >> Should leave a major a major and get him a nice cushy bullet in Civy Street. Not right at all. >> I drove back to town so preoccupied with Castle's murky past that I forgot my half plan to stop for a lunchtime drink at the Paradise Hotel. Um, just as well after DL's insinuations, which reminded me this was the day he was enjoying Hayra Granger's hospitality, courtesy of Major Castle. >> Here you are, Mr. D. >> Coffee with a drop of scotch. >> Oh, thank you, sir William. >> Keeps the cold out better

than the veno. >> The rest of them are swilling it down, but he smothers milk to them, so that's all right. Barney Kessle keeps it in bounds. Don't you, Barney? >> That's right. I've developed an eye for that if nothing else. Too much booze and shotguns don't mix. Yeah. >> The biggest proportion of accidents happen in the after lunch drives. >> You get a lot of accidents? >> Not here we don't. But when they let out shooting to syndicates, you get too many Clowns and not enough ring masters. Shoot more dogs than birds. >> This

your first time, Andy? >> That's right. It's good of you to let me come. >> Always happy to have the lord along. You're chief constable of hair shot. And we usually have one or two of the boys in blue at the other end of the stick. >> Sorry, >> the beers. We had a lot of bobbies using their days off to earn a bit extra. I Suppose it's against the regulations, is it? >> Well, if it doesn't bother the chief, it don't bother me. >> Oh, well, I'd better make with the euro talk. Good shooting,

Andy. >> Oh, shall we see you at dinner tonight? >> Uh, I don't think so, sir William. I haven't the clothes. I've just come as I am. >> Oh, pity. Uh, look, you must come again soon, but kitted out for a meal or two. Barney, when when would be best? >> Oh, next Friday. We're bound to be a gun or two short. This lot go back tomorrow and the next bunch arrive Friday morning. >> There's always one of the euros who just wants to lie around after the flight. >> Ah, splendid. So, that's fixed. >>

Oh, supposing you don't blow someone's head off this afternoon. E. >> Ah, thanks very much. You've made a hit >> with the little man. Oh no. >> The little man. He could gobble up half this lot for afternoon tea. Let's take a stroll. I have to talk to the beaters. >> How was it at the airport? >> All right. How's your bit of bother? >> Oh, that'll be all right, too. Especially now I've got respectable military gent speaking up for me. >> Thanks. I'd hate to see your career messed up unnecessarily. This um holiday of

yours, will it keep You out of contact with things? >> No. No. I'll drift in from time to time and sus out what's what. Thursday, do you? >> Fine. Just a minute. Excuse me, Barney. >> Constable Hector. It's never you. >> It's my day off, sir. Well, the force's loss is Sir William's gain. I've no doubt you're doing a good job. You've got just the right figure for frightening the birds. >> You mean it's all right? >> I suppose it's good police training. Advancing on a line of armed men intent on shooting you down. >>

Sir, it's the birds the gentlemen shoot down, not us. >> I shouldn't bet on it, lad. Not today. >> Right. Thanks very much. I've got the names. Look, while you're on the line, can you fill me in on something? Arnold Charworth Turf Accountant Limited. your investigation into alleged Irregularities >> concluded >> and >> there'll be no proceedings. >> Does that mean there've been no irregularities? >> It means there's been no evidence. Mr. Charles's records are so clean, you'd think they'd been done only yesterday. Either he's the most conscientious bookmaker we've ever dealt with, or he

knew we were coming. >> When did Mr. Charlesworth get the good news? >> He'll just get his records returned. When we don't slap him in irons, he'll know he's all right. >> And us, have we been officially informed? Well, speaking for customs and excise, I don't think we'd bother unless there were some irregularities, but C knows what we're up to. Your Mr. DL insisted. >> Oh, so we knew unofficially that Charles's books were in order. >> Certainly, Mr. DL was very interested in the whole business. He mentioned it this week when we were talking about

another matter. >> Another matter? Was that your airport check on Saturday morning? >> That's right. >> Was it a routine check? >> No, it was not. You wouldn't risk irritating Sir William Pledger just for the sake of routine. There had been a Tip off. The plane was bringing in a load of heroin. >> Heroin? >> Yes, but uh it was clean as a whistle. >> Monday afternoon, the DCC was not in the best of tempers. I refused to speculate about the reason. Seymour reported back eventually. >> You've taken your time. >> Enjoy your lunch. >>

Sorry, sir. Some of the witnesses have been difficult to pin down. >> You get anything? >> The chap in the off license remembered Parinda. He bought the room at half 6 and paid with a fiverr. The restaurant was more interesting. >> Oh, >> the waitress was Irish. Pretty girl. She remembered him well. >> Said he was such a nice old boy. But the thing is he had a lot of money on him. >> What? >> She says he tipped her a quid. He said He had a bit of luck that day and he paid from

an old envelope with a fat lot of notes in it. >> But it can't have been all that much at 4 to one. Not unless it was a bigger bet than we thought. Or perhaps he rolled it up with the other two. >> Rolled it up? >> Uh, I mean put his money on all three horses to win in a treble. Now Red Vanessa was 5 to1. So a Fiverr would give him £25 plus his stake. On user 2:1= 60 + 30 Palestine at 4:1= 360 + 90 £450. No wonder he said he'd had a

bit of luck. Wait though, he would have had to have his bet on in advance if it were a trouble. Huh? He was drinking tea and watching television with Mrs. Escott till nearly half 3. It was always going to be a bit of a rush to get into town to put a bet on the 355. If he got the money on a rollup in advance, surely he'd have sat at home And watched the last race on the deli. >> Well, horses wouldn't have dragged him away. >> I think he just felt his luck was good

and ran out and put a bet on the last election. Like I said, but there's no way he could have won all that money on one bet at 4 to one. Maybe a little looks a lot to an Irish waitress. Seymour, go around the betting shops. His bet will be recorded somewhere. Come the heavy if they drag their feet. Oh, And Seymour. >> Yes, sir. >> Don't hang about. Keep away from the Colleen. >> What's that >> for you? To the victor. The spoils. All the guns are entitled to a brace at the end of

the day. >> But I only ate one of the damn things. What am I meant to do with them? >> Up to you. But one thing I learned in the army, a perk is a perk. Never turn Down a buckshee. >> What happens to the rest? >> We sell them. See that green van? Vernon Briggs, game dealer. He pays a quid a bird and they end up on your plate at the Paradise Hotel at 10 times the price. >> I thought that last there shot her own. >> Mrs. Abby, she's a fair shot. We've had

her here from time to time, but no double meaning intended. By the Way, the lady's not for touching, much to the disappointment of some of our foreign guests. However, we managed to keep them happy in other directions. >> How's that? >> They're a bit senurial in their attitude to serving wenches. So, we have to recruit the right stuff. We've just acquired a new one. The girl who waited on us on Friday night. >> That reject from a punk band. Well, she has something. You seem to like it Yourself at the time. >> I had a

word with her on the way out. >> I didn't realize you were a talent scout. >> Pimp? You thought of saying? No. If you had, you would have said it, wouldn't you? >> Ah, is she hired? >> Yes. She rang up this afternoon. She'd hesitated because of the isolation, but I've just assured her that transport to town and back is provided. So, we have a New maid, a talent scout. I like that. I'm always on the lookout for talent >> like me. >> I'm glad I spotted you with Annie's help. Are you satisfied with our

arrangements? >> For the time being. >> Subject to review, you mean? Well, can't say fairer than that. Have some scotch. >> Well, there's only enough for one. >> You have it. You've got further to go than me. >> Monday night came, but no Ellie. She rang up to say that the doctor hadn't been encouraging and she felt she couldn't leave her mother to cope yet. So I sat at home reviewing progress. How far had we got? The deak's killing. A few pointers though I didn't yet know where we were going. Parinder a right puzzle. The

road accident. Stalemate. And I had an uneasy feeling that as far as Andy DeL was concerned, stalemate might be exactly what he Wanted. Exit lines by Reginald Hill with Donald G as Inspector Pasco. Thomas Parinder's end had seemed beyond question death by misadventure. But now there was a question. If he'd had a great deal of money on him when he died, where had it gone? Inspector Pasco had to find the answer, helped or hindered by his boss, Superintendent BL, who had problems of his own. Part four. All my possessions for one moment of time. >>

Right, sir. I'm on my way. Nothing else you wanted to say to me. >> And may the force go with you? >> Tuesday was a day of short tempers. Andy DL had been closeted for an hour with the deputy chief, and neither of them, it seemed, had benefited from the experience. I was still wifeless and didn't like it. So when DL kicked open my office door, he found me in a mood to match his own. Ah, come in. Do >> that's the door sorted. >> What would you like to demolish next? The window or the

desk? Sir, >> what the hell's up with you? Is it the de's killing? >> Pulling half a dozen kids off the streets and kick it out of them. >> Thank you. No, it's not that. It's about Parinda. >> All right. >> Your tip about polyyrene paid off. We think Parinder may have put money on a Rollup. three horses that all came in. But I sent Seymour to check on the betting shops and no one had sight or sound of him on a Friday. >> If you want information, always go to the experts. >> What the

called? >> Uh, Red Vanessa Asherette Polyarian. >> Hello, Arie there. Tell him it's Andy. >> Hello, Arie. Listen, one of my boys is interested to know if an old lad called Parinder collected last Friday on a Rollup. Red Vanessa usheret >> userette polystyrene. You'll check around. Good. Someone will call at your flat around 12:00 noon. That'll be best. Can't have you seen obnobbing with the fuzz too much, can we? You like to buy a pair of feasants. Two quid each. >> What? You too. >> Midday ate Charlesworth's flat. If There's out to know, we'll know

it. >> No, thank you, sir. But I won't be a I can't manage 12:00 myself. Charlie Frostic, Dee's grandson, gets back from Germany. Then I want to be there to talk to him. I'll send Seymour. He's been dealing with the Parinder case and not making a bad job of it. >> No, he's not bad, but you'll have to start paddling your own feet in the puddle sooner or later. Peter, detection's like culation. You can't Manage it properly once removed. >> I'll remember that. >> Now, important business. Your Ellie is a dab band with a pheasant,

if I remember right. I've got two of the boogers. Two quid a piece or three for the pair. An offer you can't refuse or Ellie will skin you alive when I tell her. >> I don't think so. >> No. Ah, she's not back yet. No wonder you're in such a miserable bloody mood. What shall I do with the damn things? >> I'll take them if you like, sir. >> That was a special discount for inspectors whose unchers are falling apart. Uh, very well. I'll leave them at the desk downstairs. Now, I'm off. I've got things

to do if you lot haven't. >> Have a word with Seymour, will you, Sergeant? Brief him about the appointment with Charlesworth. I have things to do, too. >> It's a bit early for Charlie, isn't it, sir? >> Much too early. No, DL's right. I'm off to paddle my own feet in the puddle. >> I'm sorry about the mess on the table. I don't know how I always end up with so much loose change. >> Me, too. >> I'll put it back in my bag. >> No, no, no. Don't do that, Mrs. Escott. You were counting

it. You'll have to start again. >> Oh, it doesn't matter. There. >> Now, how can I help you? >> You saw Mr. Parinder Friday afternoon. >> That's right. We watched the racing on the television. >> You've watched racing with him before >> sometimes. Yes. >> Did he get excited? Was he bothered about who won? >> Of course he was. There's not much point otherwise. >> Even when he hadn't to bet on. >> Oh, yes. He'd pick the horse he would Have backed and shout for that one. Of course, it was more exciting if he had

got money on. >> How long did you watch on Friday? >> Until just after three. >> So, you'd see the 210 and the 245, >> I suppose. So, I I didn't pay much attention. >> Did he have any money on them? >> No. >> Are you sure? >> Yes. The horses he was shouting for Didn't even get a place. He said, "What a good thing he hadn't been able to get out and make a bed." >> Can you remember the names of the horses? >> Yes. My memory isn't good. Sometimes I forget things, but they

were such funny names. Willie Wagtale in the first race and Glaramara in the second. >> She smiled gently at me as she knocked on the head the last remnants of a promising theory. I looked at Parinda's paper, Friday's paper. No such horses were running that day, but suddenly the name Glaramara caught my eye in the small print results and also ran in the 240 at Winanton the previous day. Willie Wagtale was there too in an earlier race. Mrs. Escort had lost a day. Yes, that's very good. Thank you. By the way, you don't remember what

the weather Was like that afternoon, do you? >> Friday. M >> why yes it was bright but blowy quite a lot of sun but I told him there'd be precious little warmth if he went out and then he did go out didn't he there was no need especially in the dark all those muggings it's so frightening these days when you're old >> why did he go >> I don't know Mrs. Ascot. >> Well, thank you again for all your help. >> Have I really helped? And why did you ask about the weather? >> But just

a check. And of course you've helped. But now her smile had gone. My theory was back together again. I hope nothing else had been destroyed. Inside the Frostic House, someone was shouting. Dolly, looking nervous, showed me into their sitting room. Her husband, all red face and clenched fists, was glaring at a couple in an armchair. Andrea Gregory twined round an embarrassed young soldier. Something odd about her pose. More provocation than passion. Prostic went on giving his son a high decibel piece of his mind. >> Bloody mad's what I said and bloody mad's what I mean.

That's what you'll be if you let her get you HD. You're just getting a start. You have your whole life ahead of you. >> He's got me too. He wants me and he's Old enough to make up his own mind. >> Old? He'll need another 100 years before he's old enough to deal with your sort. Flashing everything you've got at him. >> I've never noticed you looking away from whatever I've got to flash. Mr. Frost, >> you're both belt up. I've not come home to get yelled at and ordered about to get plenty of that

in me job. I've come home for me grander's funeral. That's what I think it's time we show him some respect. >> That's right. You tell him, Charlie. >> The same goes for you too, lass. >> What? You watch it. >> He was good to me. was grander. If it weren't for him being so generous, you wouldn't have that ring on your finger. >> All right, then. If it's this old ring you're worried about, take the bloody thing. >> What? >> I've got better things to do than go and live in some crummy married quarters With

a private. I >> You've changed your tune. What's happened? Found yourself some money. >> You could say that. I've got myself a job. A good job out at aircraft grains. But what what will you be doing there? >> Helping out, serving at table and so on. There's a lot of important people get there. >> You mean domestic service? You'll be a maid. >> I'll be assistant to the housekeeper and I'll get me own room and a color telling. >> You said about this on Sunday. >> I didn't know I was going to last night. >>

I get it now. You've got yourself fixed up. You don't need to shove yourself on Charlie. My god, lad. I hope you can see what a lucky escape you had. >> Shut up, Dad. >> Have a go in then. See you, Mr. Frostic. >> Good riddance. And don't slam the door. I made my excuses and followed Andrea out into the street. >> Miss Gregory, do you know who I am? >> Yeah. What do you want? >> This job you've got. Did Major Castle get it for you? >> That's right. It was the major. They get

in a lot to the Paradise Hotel and he said a week or two back if I ever needed a job, they were always looking for staff at the aircraft Graange. So, I thought, well, why not give it a whirl? There's the next lot of guests coming up at the weekend for the shooting. That's what it is mainly. Rich men. >> I see. Andrea, you saw Major Castle last Friday night, didn't you? Did you notice the other people with him? >> Yeah, that Bookie Charworth and this big fat blowup pissed out of his mind. He looked

a real villain. Is that who you're after? >> No, no, no. Just a general question. >> Yeah, it's not about old Abbis, is it? I Could tell you a thing or two about his fiddles. You want to be looking at him and that old [ __ ] from the towers. >> What do you mean, Mrs. Warsop? That's right. She makes me sick. >> What bad tipper is she? >> Tip her. You never see her money. Signs her bill. But Abby never sees her money either. >> What are you trying to tell me, Andrea? >> Nothing.

It's nothing to do with me anymore. >> No. Well, I'll see you again sometime. >> Will you? >> Perhaps. >> Sorry to take you away from your family, Charlie. Don't say that. I was glad to get out the way dad were carrying on. >> Well, I'm grateful anyway. Your mom had a look around at Welfare Lane, but I'd like you to do the same, just as a check. >> Have your mob found anything out yet about the bastard who did it. >> We're making progress. I was asking your mom about money. She's told us what

things were missing, but money is more difficult. For a start, you've got to know how much there was. >> What did mom say? She didn't know if there was any cash, but someone said something about your grandfather helping you out when you wanted to buy an engagement ring. >> I paid him back every penny after I signed on. >> I'm sure you did. >> How much was the ring, by the way? >> 100 quid. >> Uh-huh. >> I were on the doll, and there were no way I could manage it. But it was the ring

Andrea wanted. >> Your granddad must have thought a lot of you to lend you that much. And he must have thought Andrea was all right, too. >> Oh, no. He only met her twice. I could see he didn't like her much. I never Told them it were for the ring. I let I wanted to smart myself up for my army interview. >> At home, I tried to pretend it were a cheap ring, but Andrea let everyone know how much it cost, so I had to tell him where I got the money. >> Will you try

to make it up with Andrea? >> Ah, no. That is no, I'll not be chasing after her. I mean, when I'm away from her, I think about her, but well, you know, I Was just like that mainly. And and if she came after me, I suspect I'd make it up because, >> well, when we're by ourselves, it's >> she's an attractive girl. >> Ah, she is that. I I used to sleep out from the camp sometimes when she were at that hotel. It's only a couple of miles down the road. I weren't supposed to stay

out at night during training, but I'd still go and she'd let me in the back. They were daff really, and I could Have got into serious bother. But I I knew this lad at the gate, but I' I'd not really thought about getting married to her. >> No. No, even when we got engaged, I couldn't think of her as a wife somehow. But not like me, mom, you know, in the house taking care of things and all that, I couldn't see that. I liked Charlie, an honest and unexpectedly mature young man. And I contemplated with

some distaste the Mentality of a girl who could demand a 100 engagement ring from a boyfriend on the dole. Ellie' probably say it was men who created greedy, marriage obsessed girls, so they shouldn't complain. When we got to his grandfather's house, Charlie went upstairs to the bathroom. I waited downstairs in the cramped little hall until What the Charlie? Charlie, are you all right? >> What happened? I >> I dropped this. What is it? It It's the box where grandma kept his money behind the panel at the end of the bath. The panel comes out. >>

I see. >> I just wondered if it was still here. Nobody said anything about it. >> Well, nobody would say anything about it unless they knew. Who did know? >> What's it matter? It didn't get nicked. >> Which probably clears anyone who knew. >> No one knew. I I never told anyone. >> How did you know? Did your grandfather tell you? >> No. It was when he lent me the money. He He went upstairs and I heard a noise and went up to see if he was all right and I saw him. >> He didn't

see me. >> And then he came down with the money. >> That's right. >> Mhm. >> It'll be mom's money now, won't it? >> I expect so. You should have told me About it before, Charlie. You realize that? >> I know. >> But but I wasn't going to nick it if that's what you're thinking. >> No, no, no, no. I don't believe you were. If you had been, you'd at least have locked the bathroom door. It'll be kept safe at the police station for the time being. But your man will get it all. Never fear.

>> Anything else you want to tell me? >> No. >> Right. Let's be getting you back. Your man can have the keys now. You've got the front door key, haven't you? >> Oh, while I think of it, here's the back door key from the wash house. >> Oh, well, this isn't it. >> Not the back door key. >> Well, I'm not saying that, but it's not the one grand I kept in the wash house. >> Come on, we'd better go downstairs. >> What about this one? Oh, that's it. That's the key that used to be

in the wash house. >> Are you sure? >> Of course I'm sure. I often came in through the back. Look at it there. It's older and mucky than the other one. And it's got a number on the other, hasn't? >> Yes, I see. But it wasn't in the wash house. It was in the back door. >> Perhaps grandad changed the keys round. >> Perhaps he did. >> Look after this, would you, Sergeant? We Found him welfare lane. Deaks his savings. >> So, whoever broke in missed it. Exactly. Which tells us something, I suppose. Well, now,

Constable Seymour, got anything to report? >> Quite a lot, sir. >> Go ahead. I went to see Mr. Charles this morning. It didn't seem as if we were getting anywhere at first. >> Here's your laga. >> Thank you, sir. Cheers. Did you have any luck, Mr. Charlesworth? In all this city, there was only one bet place that linked those three horses, and that was for £100. Bunt was well known. >> No look then. >> How old are you, son? >> 23? >> I had a son. He died a week before he was 23. >> Uh,

I'm sorry, sir. Is your son in a team photograph? I can see the resemblance. >> Oh, that's me. Ruby. >> Yes. Red Yorkshire cup was taken long time ago. >> In the back road. That's never >> You're Mr. Delf. Yes, it is. We go back a long way. >> Good lord. He hasn't changed much. I mean, he's put on a lot of weight, but you can still see. >> He's changed. We all change given the Chance. >> Yes, sir. Well, thanks for your help. I think we'll just have to give up on this one. It

was always a long shot. >> You give up easy, son. >> But if there's no record, >> Oh, it doesn't mean there was no bet. There are two reasons why there should be no record. One, the book he lost it. There's a 10% tax on all bets, so you can see the incentive to lose a few. >> But not a winning bet. What he pays out, he'd want to keep on record. >> That's right, Mr. Dell. Be proud of you. >> So, what's the second reason? >> The bet wasn't placed with a regular bookie. Right.

>> A street corner bookie. >> If that's the answer, you'll be pushed to find him. >> What's the alternative? >> Time was we paid the police to do police work. >> Oh, look. If you know anything, you've got to tell me. I mean, it's your duty. >> You really know how to lean on people, son. I give in. 32 Merton Street, back of English Hardware shop. Take a couple of mates with you. And don't say I sent you. >> Thank you, sir. >> Don't thank me till you know what you've got. And what did you

get? >> The jackpot, sir. That was where Parer Placed his bets. The gaffer remembered him well. He'd backed a winning treble. All right. >> What happened to the gaffer? >> We nicked him. >> How ungrateful. Well done, Seyour. So, now we know most of the story. Parender went into town last Friday, placed his bets, collected his winnings, and lashed out on a good meal and a bottle of booze. Then he walked home. Why? I see what you mean, sir. >> Why didn't he take a taxi, or at least a bus? It was a filthy night.

>> Would you like me to nose around a bit, sir? Talk to them at the taxi rank. It >> It might be an idea. >> And then I wondered if I should go back to see Mrs. Escuit again for a statement. >> A what? I told you she can't remember. >> That's not right, sir. She remembered the wrong day, but she remembered it Very well. She might still have seen Parer on the Friday, might she? Perhaps now she's had time to puzzle it out, something may come back to her. H. It's worth a try perhaps.

But go easy. >> Oh yeah, sir. Good lad. That >> yes, he did well to get Charworth to cooperate. >> Did you know Charworth was such an old pal of the supers? >> No, I didn't. But it does give Mr. DL a Good reason for dining with him. That illegal betting shop might be financed by some legit firm who wouldn't take kindly to Charles shopping them. I hope Seymour will keep his mouth shut. >> I'm sure he will. You liked Anie Charworth and Arie liked him. >> His son was a bit of a hellraiser. Got

killed in a car crash. He'd have been about Seymour's age. >> Yes, I remember the lad. We had a bit of trouble with him. Looked not unlike the Same red hair. >> Castleton Court. I had affair there Friday night. >> You did? >> Old boy full of the joys of spring. Asked me to take him home >> to Castleton Court. >> Said so, didn't I? But what did he do when you got there? >> We never got there. >> What? >> Our clock had gone up to 1 12. He Suddenly yells at me, "Stop here."

>> So stops. He gets out, gives me 150. And that's elastic see of him. >> You don't know why he changed his mind. >> I thought perhaps he just realized how much it was coming to. Jeff, if he'd said out, I'd have run him all safe. Poor old chap. >> Where did he get out? >> Right outside recreation ground. >> Show me. Hey, >> I want you to show me exactly where it Was he got out. And then a >> take me on to Castleton Cooks. >> Mrs. Escort. Mrs. Escort, can I help? >> Yes,

Warden, you said Mrs. Escort was in, but she doesn't seem to be answering. Perhaps she's having a nap. But we'd best check. I've got a master key. Come along, Mrs. Escard. Not in the living room. I'll check the Bedroom. Right. Oh my god. Get an ambulance quick as you can. They found Jane Escort lying across her bed surrounded by empty pill bottles. Her eyes were wide open and at first they thought she was dead. But at the county general they were told she was still alive. Just Seymour rang from the hospital. I felt unbearably guilty.

I remembered the contented, sensible old lady I'd spoken to, happily unaware, till I interfered, That she'd managed to forget a whole day. So, she'd been terrified of approaching Sility, and decided to exit with dignity. Only she hadn't died. But I couldn't go on tormenting myself about it. I still had work to do. Andrea's hints about Mrs. Warsop might be pure malice, but they suggested a possible answer to something that had been puzzling me. So I paid a late call on the towers. Mrs. Warso was out, but that proved a bonus, for I had a very

Illuminating chat with the matron. She was obviously torn between her citizen's duty to tell me about certain possible irregularities and her inbuilt professional discretion. On the whole, discretion lost out. The obvious follow-up was another visit to the Paradise Hotel. >> Hello, Inspector. Is it right? Pray God it isn't I could have abandoned this devil's kachim for a simple monastic cell. >> Sorry to interrupt a busy evening, Mr. Abby. >> Well, it shouldn't be that busy. Unfortunately, our new waitress is halfwitted. She keeps getting lost between here and the further tables. >> Worse than the girl

you fired, is she? >> Infinitely. At least Miss Andrea had all her marbles. It was her morals that were in doubt. You were concerned for her essential purity. >> Oh, no. Although I do draw the line at Some things. This soldier she used to bring back, he spent all night here sometimes. Well, that was pretty cheeky. But when early one morning I caught him taking a final soldier's farewell across the reception desk. I felt things were getting out of hand. And when I protested, he told me to get lost. Really? >> As you say. Really?

>> Yes. But it wasn't that. So long as she Didn't do it in the dining room and frightened the customers, it was the way things faded away around her. Half a bottle of scotch here, couple of quid there. Nothing startling, nothing provable, but enough's enough. And at last we quarreled beyond repair. So why have you come to see me? More questions about your fat friend? Indirectly. Last time we talked, I mentioned Mrs. Warsop. Who? The burser at the towers. I'm sure you know her. In effect, she's Dining here tonight. Shall I call her in? >>

I don't think we need to disturb the customers. What about her? >> At first, she was certain she saw Mr. DL driving his car away. Later, she became less sure. >> The woman's privilege. >> Perhaps someone persuaded her to change her mind. >> You mean the portly gent bribed her? >> I doubt it. Mr. Dell is not by nature a briber, and Mrs. Warsop doesn't look like a lady who's short of money. Mr. Abbis, I think you suggested to Mrs. Warsop. It might not be a very clever idea for her to get in bad with

the police by maintaining her story. When she first spoke to the press, she didn't know Superintendent DL was a policeman. Suddenly, your hotel must have seemed very full of the law. The quickest way to get rid of them was to get Mr. DL off The hook. But why should you be worried? And why should Mrs. Warso take your advice? Could it be that the pair of you have a business relationship that wouldn't bear scrutiny? Is that why she eats here nightly and signs her bill? >> She gets an account like everyone else. >> In that

case, your records will show it, as will her check stuffs. >> She often pays by cash. >> How often? >> For heaven's sake, how am I expected to Remember? >> Then we'll have to ask the staff. >> It's that little girl, isn't it? Oh. Oh, it comes to something when a slot that gets the push for dishonesty is allowed to black on other people's names. If ever I get my hands on that little night, Mr. Abbis. 73621. >> Are you still in bed, you lazy bastard? >> Where else should I be? >> Are you alone?

>> Ellie is still not back. >> Yeah, but are you alone? >> Ha, sir. To what do I owe the pleasure? >> I hear you're piling a bit of trouble on the Paradise Hotel. >> How? >> Forget it. >> But look, >> Peter, I'm still in charge, aren't I? I mean, I haven't made you the commissioner and me the tea boy. Forget it. That's an order. All right. >> As a subordinate, I suppose it's all right. Though I'll need to think about it as a friend. >> You want for us to talk as friends? >>

Yes, sir. If you'll make the effort, so will I. >> All right, then. Please forget it. >> My eyebrows were still nudging my hairline when the phone rang again. This time it was Ellie. >> I rang last night. >> I'm sorry. I I was a bit late. How is Everything? >> Pretty awful. Dad went off last night and I found him outside the library. It was4:4 to 9. He said he was waiting for it to open. >> Poor old devil. >> Peter, I don't know what to do. He isn't going to get any better and

I'm not sure that mom can cope. >> Look, why don't I pop down and suss things out on the spot? >> Oh, could you? >> Uh, this afternoon. Why not? I'll stop overnight. >> That would be marvelous. So, Wednesday proved a delightful day. My wife was overjoyed to see me, and so, as far as I could judge, was my daughter. And Ellis's father seemed perfectly rational. Her parents kept early hours, and I had no complaints about that. >> I've missed you. >> So, I gathered. Anybody else been Tickling your fancy while I've been away? >>

Oh, no. It's been work, work, and nothing but work. >> Ellie. Ellie. >> Oh, no. Come in, Mom. >> What's happened, >> Dad? >> Oh, God. >> Oh, no. It's all right. He He's just Gone down into the garden. He said he heard a noise and thought someone was trying to break into the greenhouse. >> Right. I'll go down and take a look. >> What at? We haven't got a greenhouse. I haven't had one for 25 years. Oh, well, we better go down anyway. >> My father-in-law was standing still at the bottom of the garden,

peering intensely into a small patch of shrubbery. He was wearing an old raincoat. I hoped it was warm enough in The biting night wind, and he had a walking stick in his hand. >> Archie, you all right? >> Archie, come in. You'll catch cold. >> There you are. GOT TRAP. >> DAD, it's Peter. >> Peter? Who's Peter? Come inside, love. >> What's happening, mad? What's happening? >> It's all right, love. Come in. >> Don't worry. He's quiet now. Just a bit puzzled. >> Has he attacked anyone before? >> Oh, no. I mean, he was looking

for a burglar, wasn't he? He saw you. He recognized me because I was around when he had the greenhouse. You weren't. >> Where's the tea? Do get him over. >> She really is in charge, isn't she? >> Yes, she is. She was always the same from a girl. Not bossy, but she knew her own mind. I needn't tell you that. >> No, you needn't. >> She's been a tremendous help these last few days. I'm glad she came so she could see for herself how things were. Ellie's never been a girl for taking things on trust.

>> How long has Archie been like this? >> Oh, a long time. It's getting worse slowly and it won't get better. Most of the time he's still his old self. Well, that's what he is, isn't it? His old self. himself, but old. It happens to us all one way or another. >> Well, all I can say is he's in good Hands. >> We both are, Peter. Him and me. >> Have you gone to China for that tea? >> You better get to work or your day off will be stopped. >> What were you and mom

doing in the kitchen? >> Talking about you. What else >> about me? Not Dad. >> Him, too. But there's not much need for your mother to talk about Archie. She knows all about him. Mind you, by the Same token, there wasn't much need to talk about you either. >> That sounds pretty reductive. >> It wasn't meant to be. My god. >> What? >> I've just thought of something. >> Not before time. >> No, that is on second thoughts. Yes, but that wasn't it. >> What was your first thought? >> It'll keep >> good. I couldn't

tell her. I wasn't certain. Not yet. But I thought I knew now how Thomas Arthur Parinder had died. Exit lines by Originald Hill with Donald G as Inspector Pasco. Three old men dead, three problems. Two were still unsolved, but Inspector Pasco thought he had one answer. Part five, the comedy is over. A blunt instrument, sir? >> Anything that might conceivably come Under that heading. >> But sir, what sort of blunt instrument could there possibly be? >> I don't mean a kosh Seymour. Of course, you won't find that. No, anything capable of delivering a knockout blow.

Probably something totally innocent and domestic. As for instance, >> yes, >> the handback. I tried to distance myself from Dame Edith. >> Did you say a handbag, sir? Yes, a soft Leather handbag weighed down by a considerable amount of loose change. Seymour plainly thought this the oddest instruction he'd ever been given, but his not to reason why. Events moved fast that day. First, the medals stolen from Robert Deaks turned up in an antique shop purchased by an assistant and reported by the proprietor who recognized him from a list we'd circulated. His name rang a bell,

so I queried it with Andy Dell. Edwin Sutton, Antiques. Anything known >> him? He got nicked two years ago for handling stolen goods. Managed to persuade some moronic magistrate it was a case of genuine error. >> Since then, he's boxed clever and prospered. Why? >> He's just given us a call. His assistants bought some medals, and it looks as if they were the ones stolen from Robert Deaks, the welfare lane killing. >> So Sutton's playing the honest citizen. I wonder what's got into him. >> Perhaps something happened to him on the road to Damascus. All

right. It don't need to be a long road. Any other leaves on the dig's case? >> No, sir. >> Hey, you best be off. >> Oh, by the way, that Waropot woman. >> Yes. >> What do you reckon? >> I reckon she's been filling the accounts At the towers for years. She buys everything the books show, but then she pushes as much as she can onto Abbis. Probably there's a bit of swapping. She buys good meat. Abbis buys scrag end. They swap. The Paradise Hotel gets gourmet delights. The Towers gets gristle. Warsop and Abby split

the difference. Do the same with everything. Soap, linen, crockery, cutlery, and it all mounts up. >> Ah, clever. I haven't pursued the matter As per your instructions. >> Something else you want to say to me, lad? >> No, sir. Except, are you in some kind of trouble? >> What kind of trouble would that be? Any road? My troubles aren't your concern. If I need any more instructions, where will you be? >> I'm on holiday, remember? You were lucky to find me here. I'll be at the coroner's court. Today is the inquest on Westerman, and I've

got to give evidence about the car I wasn't driving. >> Morning, Mr. DL. >> Morning. >> Happy with the verdict, Mr. Charlesworth? >> Happy. Man's dead. >> I mean, do you think it was a fair verdict? >> Death by misadventure. That's what they said. That's what it was. And will the police be taking any further action? >> Who? Against? >> Against the driver. >> Against Mr. Charlesworth? >> Not for me to say, Mr. Ruddstein, but you heard what the coroner said. No blame could be attached. >> Yes, I heard it. >> Then why don't you

booger off? >> Quote you on that, can I? >> He doesn't believe you. >> When the press starts trusting me, then I'll know I'm in trouble. >> Ah, talking of trouble, what did you say to young Seymour to put him on to your place in Merton Street? You must be slipping. >> I gave him the address. >> What? Why? >> Maybe I like the lad. Maybe I'm turning honest. Anyway, the greedy bastard that ran it was ripping me off for as much as I saved in tax. It's not worth the candle. With a bit of

luck, it'll frighten a lot of the other Do-it-yourself clowns off. And us legal bookies will be able to turn an ol copper. >> I'm not sure I like your choice of phrase. >> Beggars can't be choosers. Fancy warmer at my place. >> You still keep it? You know what? I haven't given it up for other people. My boy before he died told me it was as bad as the stuff he was on. After his death, I remembered that. I stopped wanted it. >> If it's like this tomorrow, you'll want it. Look at the sky. Could

be snow. Will we be expected to go out in this? >> You're no sportsman, Andy. Good shooting weather like this sorts out the men from the boys. Edwin Sutton, antiques, might well have been a suspicious character, but our real concern was with his assistant, Paul Moody, the man who bought the medals. They matched Charlie's descriptions pretty closely. >> Yes, I think these are what we're after. What was a man like who stole them? >> Oh, an ordinary sort of fella, about 25, medium height, stocky, light brown hair, bit of a mustache. He was wearing one

of those lumberjack jackets, sort of green tartan. He said the medals have been his uncles. I didn't pay much heed. I mean, they weren't that valuable. >> How did he talk? >> He didn't say much. Mostly monoyllables. >> Accent? >> Ordinary like most sport around here. >> When you made your offer, what did he say? >> He said, "Is that all?" And I said, "I couldn't do any better." And he took it. >> How much was it? >> £5. >> £5, the price of Robert Deaks's life. He was being buried that day, a biting cold

Thursday. By the evening, it was snowing. Armed with a saddening lab Report, I drove to the hospital and was directed to the ward where Mrs. Escort lay half conscious, perhaps dying. There, unsurprisingly, I came across Dr. Sardin. Good heavens. Do you run this place single-handed? >> Sometimes feels like it. Did you come to pay me off? >> Pay you off? >> The inquest? I didn't go, but I saw the verdict in the evening paper. >> If you felt you had something to say, You should have gone along and said it. What happened anyway? Don't you

know your fat friend got off? >> What? No. Sorry, that's not the way to put it. Death by misadventure with no one quering whether Charlesworth was the driver. >> Wrong, doctor. A great deal of querying has been done. >> But not publicly. Look, >> next time someone complains you stitched him up with a glove inside him, let's Hear you demand publicity. Even if you come out innocent, you don't come out clean. >> You may have a point there. What brings you here this evening? Can I help? >> Yes, but we better have a private word

first. Come to the office. >> Thanks. >> Let me get this straight. You're saying the old gent who died from exposure and shock was attacked by a 75year-old woman, his neighbor and friend, who left Him to die? >> I've got the lab report on her handbag. There are traces of human blood and tissue on one side. >> What does that prove? She may have cut herself. patterns a lot more frequently than old ladies turning to mugging. >> Not mugging. She thought she was being mugged. She was terrified of going out after dark, but at the

same time, she'd started rambling. She was losing her Grip on time and place, but only intermittently so far. But her friends were worried about her. So imagine what Tap Parinder felt when, driving in a taxi with his winnings, he passes the recreation ground and sees his friend Jane Escort going in. >> How do you know about the taxi? We found the driver. He told us his fair stopped him suddenly, paid up and jumped out opposite the recreation ground. So Tap runs after Mrs. Escort. She runs away in Terror. He catches her up, seizes her shoulder

perhaps. She turns, swinging him with her shoulder bag, heavy with all her hoarded change, catching him on the temple. He goes down and she goes on running, not stopping till she's safely at home. Gets there by instinct. Goes to bed and wakes up the next day with all memory of Friday gone. and Thursday substituted. >> All that's only theory >> and will remain so till I talk to Mrs. Escort. >> Is that possible? >> Yes, for a moment. But I doubt if she'll reply. Poor woman. Go carefully. Mrs. Escort. Mrs. Escott. I'm Inspector Pasco. I

came to talk to you about tap. We know what happened. We know it was an accident. >> There's nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. >> No one blames you. Mrs. Escott, >> it's all right. I'm going now. Good night. >> Sleep well. >> Dreams. >> Yes. >> Awful dreams. Hitting him. Tap's face. Then running, running like a girl, but not happy like a girl. Awful dreams, but true. Have they always been true? It's not. It's not. I think that's your lot. Yes, but it's enough. Thank you. Don't forget that drink sometime. >> No, I

won't forget. Just a minute. You said he was carrying a lot of money that went missing. Sure you're not going to tell me she robbed him, too? >> Of course she didn't. But a man on the door with a wife and family and a 7-ft dog that must cost a tener a week to feed might be sorely tempted if an old envelope full of 10 notes suddenly Appeared at his feet. It's all there, Constable. >> Thank you, Mr. Cox. >> When I found him, I saw all them notes. Must have fell out of his pocket.

I just stuck them in me jacket for safety. Then, when I heard he was dead, I didn't say out. And when no one else said out about any missing money, I began to wonder if I'd best hang on to it. >> Constable. >> Yes. >> If I get sent to one of them open prisons, will they let me take Ammy? I thought that was it. >> Well, I doubt if it'll come to prison for him, but it's not up to me. >> What do we do about him, sir? >> Get a statement, put the fear

of God into him, and then send him home till we need him again. >> On bail, you mean? >> Well, who needs bail with a dog like that? Can you imagine fleeing the Country with Hammy in tow? >> Private Charlie Frostic's here, sir. >> Oh, do you know what he wants? >> I think he'd like to have a look at his grandfather's medals. >> Here you are, Charlie. Your mom identified them as you weren't around when we looked for you yesterday. >> Ah, no. After the funeral, I just wanted to take a walk by myself.

>> Oh, you didn't get the watch? >> No. I gather it had Mr. Digs's name on It. The medals are anonymous. Your grandfather never had them engraved. >> No, never saw a need to. >> I'd like them, particularly if his watch never turns up. >> They'll be returned to your mother eventually. The chap at the antique dealers gave us a description of the man who brought them in. Uh, look at this drawing. Uh, remind you of anyone. >> It's a bit like that Scottish sweeper. The players for Liverpool, you know, the Big ladies. >> Yes.

Yeah. Well, when'd you go back? >> Tonight. As soon as that. >> To tell the truth, I could have stayed till Sunday, but now that the funeral's over, there's now to keep me. I mean, it's grand seeing mom and dad, but you can't sit around the house all the time. How does Leaf get back to me, mates? >> No mates around here anymore. Well, yeah, I suppose so. Only it's not the Same now I'm in the army. I suppose I could put me civies on and go around some of the old places, but it' just

be me talking big about the army and there might be a bit of aggro. I might as well go back. There's a lot going off on Saturday night there. You can have a right good time. >> You'll be able to chase the frines with a clear conscious now you're not engaged. >> That's true, I suppose. >> Have you seen Andrea again? >> No. No. She started a new job. What? at HRF Graange. >> I She'll like it there. Married folk like it was at the Paradise Hotel. >> She didn't like it there much. >> I

think she did till she got the sack. It was me. Didn't like her being there. >> Why? It was handed for the camp. >> It was. But I didn't like her sleep in there. She just laughed and said there was nothing to be worried about. The Owner was an old puff. >> He's married. >> She thought that didn't make any difference. >> What did you think? >> Me? I never saw him. You mean all those times you went to the Paradise Hotel, you never came across Mr. Abbis? >> No. Well, Andrea said it was all

right. She could use a room anywhere she liked. But I Well, I I didn't want any trouble, So I made sure he never laid eyes on me. >> Never jumped to conclusions. I'd taken it for granted after Abby's account of Andrea's rompt with the soldier that the soldier had been Charlie. Considering the matter again, it was only too possible that she might have been putting it about a bit. This called for another visit to the Paradise Hotel. Abbis had recovered all his old assurance. He'd obviously been given convincing promises of immunity. Oh, DL. DL. >>

You again. What is it this time? >> Mr. Abbis, the last time we talked, you said one of your complaints against Andrea Gregory was that she brought a soldier back to the hotel. >> Yes. And that you caught them in Flaggrante deto one morning. >> Like the picture. Did you? Do you want an action rerun? >> When was this, sir? >> I'm not sure. Last week sometime. >> Last week. Not a few weeks ago. >> Oh, no. Wasn't long before I gave her the push. >> And it was definitely a soldier. >> Oh, definitely. Full

military kit. >> This photo fit. Could it be the man? >> Well, maybe doesn't really look like anyone, does it? He was an NCO, by the way. >> Are you sure? >> Oh, yes. There was a stripe on his arm. Makes him a lance corporal, doesn't it? >> That's right. Yes. Anything else you noticed? >> Brownish hair. I think he had a mustache. Oh, and those webbing belts they wear. His was white. And on his left, >> what? >> It wasn't a formal occasion. There was a sweet disorder in the dress. On his left buttock,

there were tooth marks. I visualized a highly unusual identity Parade, but brownish hair, mouse mustache, single stripe, and a white webbing belt. Into my mind there came a picture of a ramrod straight lance corporal in the regimental police, Corporal Gelot, Charlie Frostic's friend, who had let him into the camp late when he was training. We picked up Paul Moody from the antique shop and drove him to Elvail Camp. I hope this won't take too much time. Mr. Sutton won't be pleased if I'm away Too long. >> Mr. Sutton will have to live with it. >>

I don't really like this. You know, if this chap gets violent, >> we'll play it carefully. I think I know who we're after. We'll arrange for you to have a look at him without him seeing you. >> Sir, there's a working party coming up. Perhaps Mr. Moody could take a look. >> Well, that's him. The chap in charge. It's him. All right. And that clinched it. I'd put Jelot down as a Tacitan customer we'd have difficulty with. But now the difficulty was to stop him talking. Faced with Moody's identification and the discovery of Robert Dak's

watch in his locker, he saw little future in silence and concentrated on putting all the blame on Andrea. It was her idea. She said he was an animal. She said all old people were animals. She thought they were crazy and smelly and nasty and she'd want to be Put down before she got like that. I'd been driving the sergeant major to the station. I had his car. So, I picked her up and we went for a drive. I've been seeing her since that wet boyfriend of hers went to Germany. She brought a couple of bottles

of scotch from the restaurant. We kept stopping for a drink in a bit of you know what. >> Who first mentioned Mr. Deaks? >> She did. I'd said if I had enough money, I'd buy myself out of the army. And she Said there were a few hundred lying around for the taking at Charlie's granddad's. She knew where the back door key was so we could get in. She didn't know where the money was. He wouldn't tell us. He kept on looking at my uniform and saying, "Charlie, and it got on my wick. Was there any

money or was it all for nothing?" >> I was thankful when they took him away. I'd got as close as ever I had in my life to striking a prisoner. Our next Stop was HR Graange to pick up little Miss Andrea. This time we took a squad car, full majesty of the law, with the mid Yorkshire insignia on the sides. I didn't want the Sir William pledges of this world thinking the force could be relied on to be discreet for their sake. Sergeant Will came with me and shook his head over the unsaavory solution to

the Deets's case. >> Gilot and Andrea, what a pair. >> As you say, >> my god, they took risks, didn't they? They were both half cut from the sound of it, and she had her wits about her enough to realize using the outside key might be a giveaway. So, she faked a breakin, but she put the wrong one back in the shed. Can't you get past that damn green van? >> The road's a bit narrow, sir. >> Oh, give him the bell then. It's like a bloody funeral procession. >> Good. He's letting us by. Leave

it on. I'd like a bit of sunny Lumiere. that those gunhappy passes up there know we're coming. >> That's a bit odd. The van's reversing, sir. I think he's turning round. What's he up to? >> Well, does it matter? We've got other things on our mind. So, we advanced on HR Graange, trumpeting our presence to the world. I wondered in passing if Andy Dell was one of Sir William's guests today. If So, he was due for a surprise. Another of the same, please. Thanks, son. Uh, no, not for Mr. Charles who doesn't touch the stuff.

>> Very for me, thanks. >> Well, Arie, bad day for brass monkeys. >> Mr. DL. >> Yes, love. >> Telephone for you, sir. >> Oh, thanks. >> Will you take it in here, sir? >> Uh, no. Uh, no. In the hall, is it? I'll Take it there. >> Dear Ellia Christ. Yes. Why not? Not much point in doing out else, is there? What the hell's happened now? >> Andy, is that >> No, it bloody isn't. >> It's like you're up else. I didn't realize you were bringing some friends. >> Me neither, Sir William. >> Barney's

gone down to see what it's all About. >> Has he now? Maybe we better go, too. You come with us, Arie. And so Wield and I, in pursuit of our lawful occasions, were met on the steps of HR Graange by Arnold Charworth, an indignant Sir William Pledger, and our very own Andy DL breathing fire. Since we'd stated our business to Barney Castle, he'd calmed down considerably. >> It's all right, Andy. Your colleagues are here because our new maid's got Herself into a spot of bother. Maid, you pair of midsummer nights dreams have come here about

the maid. >> She's wanted for questioning, sir. Sorry to disturb you and your friends, but it's a serious matter. >> Suspicion of being an accessory to murder. >> Murder? >> Yes, sir. The Deak's case. >> Bloody hell. You don't off pick your moments. >> It's all right, Andy. They'll be away in a couple of minutes. >> Is that right, Deal? >> Is all this noise and drama just so that they can arrest one of the maids? FOR GOD'S SAKE, DON'T THEY TEACH YOU FELLAS ANYTHING about discretion? I'll be talking to the chief CONSTABLE WHEN HE

GETS BACK. >> Your privilege, sir. I think you'll find the chief constible knows about most of it. But not the maid. No one bothered to Tell even me about the maid. >> What then? If not the mind. >> Sir, William, I have reason to believe that a private airplane belonging to Vanellon International has been used to smuggle quantities of heroin into this country. >> What? >> Do you know what you're saying? >> All right. The question is, do you on the whole? I think not. But Major Castle here does. Isn't that right, Barney? >> You

bastard? Curiouser and curiouser. Castle wasn't looking at Dell, but at Arie Charworth, and a small convoy of cars had drawn up outside. Half a dozen men and a black Labrador jumped out and came up to us. They were looking at DL interrogatively. Superintendent DL. >> Don't even ask. You wouldn't believe it. And now you're here. You'd better improve the shining hour. It'll be somewhere among the feeasants most Likely. >> If Rinint Tin doesn't find it, you'll have to get your fingers bloody, right? >> So, William, why don't you go back in the warm? This shouldn't

take long. >> By whose authority are you doing all this? >> I've got a warrant here. I didn't expect to use it, but it entitles me to pull this mansion of yours apart brick by brick if I have to. You can ring the DCC or the chief constible himself in the Bahamas. They'll tell you the same. >> It won't be the police I ring. >> You staying, Arie? >> I'm staying. >> Good. You can keep an eye on the major. >> Pleasure. >> Sergeant Wield. Think you can handle this last single-handed? I'd like a word

with Mr. Pascal. >> Yes, sir. >> Over here, Peter. >> Word in private. What's going off, sir? >> I'll tell you what should have been going off. There should have been a man called Vernon Briggs who's a game dealer driving happily towards town with that little lot of birds in his van. I believe you passed him on the road. Green van. >> Well, yes, we did. >> Unfortunately, he was so dead scared of being overtaken by a cop car with its hooter going full blast that he turned about and set off home like a peppered

Rabbit. I can't blame him. If you're on your way to pick up a kilo of heroin, you don't hang about when you see the filth. >> Well, I'm sorry, but how was I to know? And just a kilo with this performance. I'd expected at least a ton. >> Who are these people? Customs and excise >> mainly with some of our drug squad. But you've missed the point. There's this ring operating out of Holland. It's developing its UK outlets going in for a Lot of small runs. This is one of them. But the drugs boys don't

just want to stop this line. They wanted to follow it through to the central distribution point somewhere in Yorkshire. Vernon Briggs and his van was to be the lead in. No longer. When he doesn't turn up, alarm bells will sound all along the route. >> I really am sorry, sir. >> Don't let it worry you. These fancy schemes usually run into cockups. I was For going in feet first and kicking it out of them. >> Them >> castle mainly. I doubt if Sir William knows anything, but I wouldn't put me pension on it. First sniff

pledger might be involved. The chief was off across the Atlantic. Didn't want to arouse suspicion by refusing invitations to shoot, and certainly didn't want to be around when the balloon went up. Top level decision not to tell the deputy Chief. Stupid. I had to fill him in myself the other day. You should have heard him. What was your connection? >> Through Arie Charsworth. He knew not about the racket, but he knew Castle. And when someone remembered that Arie's lad had been full of dope when he crashed his car, they had the bright idea he might

be willing to help. He was. The idea was Arie had let onto Castle I was bendable and had done him a few favors with customs and excise. It Went like a dream. That accident last week put the seal on it. Castle's convinced I was driving and there was a cover up. >> And you weren't? >> Only as far as the road and Arie made me change over. You can pull in Mrs. Warsop and Abby now. By the way, >> is Abbis mixed up with this? >> I doubt it, but he did know Castle well enough

to appeal to him when you started leaning on him. And Barney asked me to Lean on you. >> I'm glad you weren't driving. Peter, you never doubted me, did you? I bet there were [ __ ] growing thrice all over the station last weekend. >> That analogy didn't have to be pursued very far to break down. The hunt for the hidden heroine seemed to be taking rather a long time. The searchers were going through the feeasants a second time, and the Labrador was cocking its leg against a wall, indicating a loss of Interest in the

proceedings. >> Mr. Deelli, you saw there was a consignment this week. >> The thoughts are at the continental end. Well, there's nothing there. >> No. Well, I'm glad it wasn't my idea. >> I'm sorry if I >> Never mind, Peter. There's worse things than a career in traffic control. >> What? Just a moment, sir. >> Hector? Possible Hector? >> It's all right, sir. Mr. Dale knows I'm Here. >> But does he know you have this strange attraction for dogs? >> Quiet, boys. >> Hector? >> Yes, sir. >> Open your coat. >> I thought it was

fair do, sir. I mean, we do all the work and who's to miss them? One bird was for me, ma'am, and one was for me, auntie Sheila. >> Let's have a look. >> Mr. DL, sir, >> what is it? >> Constable Hector here has made a remarkable discovery inside one of the birds. >> Well, well, well. This is what we're looking for. Hector, lad, I don't know how you've done it, but I love you. >> No traffic control, Peter. Now we can pull Castle in. >> Between ourselves, Hector, what on earth did you think it

was? You must have seen It. >> I thought it were a giblet, sir. Oh, they always come in little plastic bags. >> And that was that. All questions answered. All police questions, that is. Ellie rang when I got home. >> You got back all right? just about. >> I'm coming home tomorrow. Mom said she was glad of the rest, and she'll be in touch if she feels she can't cope, but I got a faint whiff of not being too sorry to see the back of me. >> I can't believe it. >> Oh, you smug swine.

Look, the problem's not going to go away. You know that, don't you? You who understand everything. And it'll get worse. >> It's life we're talking about, is it? >> And it was. The moment I'd put the phone down, it rang again. It was Dr. Sen to tell me that Mrs. Escott was sinking fast. It wasn't really my business, but I found myself back at the county General. She's still here, isn't there? Somewhere else. >> A kind of dying room, you mean? Afraid not. >> I really don't know what I'm doing here. Aren't there any relatives

or friends? >> No, none close enough to be brought out on a night like this. >> So, we're it. >> That's right. Not much to show for three score and 10, is it? >> Her pulse. There's just a faint flutter. >> Mr. Pasco. >> That's right. >> Mr. Pasco, I saw Tap. >> Yes, >> he spoke to me. >> What did he say? >> Winner. Tap says the winner is >> That's it, I'm afraid. Nurse. >> Yes, doctor. All over. >> All over. Inspect him. >> I wonder what her friend's tip was. >> It's not

knowing that makes horse races. We walked as far as the lifts, and I racked my brains for something to say. Exit lines, final partings. Every parting should be treated as a rehearsal for the last one. Everyone should have some piece of farewell wit or wisdom at his tongue's end. But for most, even the best prepared. This was How it would be. The doors closing, the light fading, the lift descending with nothing said, nothing communicated. The lift doors were closing. I pressed the open button and stepped out again. Sen looked mildly surprised. Some rehearsal, eh? What?

Now, how about that drink?