A Touch of Frost (1992) s01e02 Episode Script

Well, then, number one priority in this game is what? Personal hygiene.
Customer relations.
And why is that? Well, I suppose because we have to relate to the customers.
Because we have to relate to the customer when he/she is at he/her most vulnerable, and therefore in need of our greatest tacitly consideration.
Here we are.
There's nobody in.
Stay.
Hello madam.
Yes? We're here to fulfill the requirements with the deceased, a Mrs.
Alexandra Compton? Aaaah! We were never really close, you know.
You'd think, you know, as sisters, we'd be real close, but.
She always spoke very fondly of you.
Christmas cards, birthday cards, twice a year on the phone maybe.
Why wasn't I here? You came as soon as you could.
I should have been here.
Well, if you're ready.
Ok.
Have you chosen the headstone yet? No, not yet, no.
Would you like me to help you? That would be very nice, Marion, thank you.
You know, in the States we have the most incredible selection, even for dogs.
Well, well.
Well, we do what we can, sir, for this sort of thing, especially catching them red-handed or not at all, really.
Ten years I've been warden at this church, and every year it gets worse.
And you know why, don't you, because the vicars got to go with him and the police force are worse than useless.
Is that an official complaint, sir, or just by way of social chitchat? She was so terribly proud of you winning that medal.
She sent us all the newspaper clippings, you know.
No, I didn't know.
The George Cross, for bravery? I think the day she went with you to the palace was the happiest day of her life.
Yeah, so do I.
I'll just get rid of these before we go, shall I? There.
Morning, sergeant.
Morning, sir.
How do we stand? Any more additions to the sick list? No, sir, and the replacements have arrived.
Ah, good, things are looking up.
Two PCs and a detective sergeant.
Is that all they can give us? Afraid so, sir.
Well, we'll just have to make due then, won't we? No news of Chief Inspector Allen, I suppose? Oh, yes, sir, his wife did phone.
He's had a bit of a setback, I'm afraid, be at least another week.
Soon as you got a moment, come up and we'll work out a revised duty roster.
Right, sir.
Morning.
I'd like to speak to someone about my daughter.
She didn't come home last night.
Where's my wife? She's upstairs.
She's all right, is she? She is now.
Thank you, Mrs.
Blakiston.
Did she phone the police, do you know? First thing.
Do you know what gets right up my nose? Hang on, I've got a list here somewhere.
No, I'll tell you what gets right up my nose, and that is people who go and live in America and after ten minutes end up talking like Katharine flipping Hepburn That's what I like about Scotch people you know, immigrate all over the world for as long as you like, still end up talking like Scotch people.
What's that, Mrs.
what? Mrs.
Compton, (unintelligible) farm, someone playing silly buggers, flipping coffins and so on.
Oh, yeah, I think you'll go out to see her? Oh, Bill, how can I? We have three men.
Four.
Your new sidekick arrived, D.
S.
Gilmore.
Yeah, but I mean, if it's only people playing silly buggers.
No, no, no, apparently less funny all the time.
And true, it does sound like she's had enough.
I mean we're talking hysteria.
Give her a ring and tell her I'll be over there sometime this afternoon.
Jack, have a word with you? What's it all about.
Her daughter didn't come home last night.
Can't someone else do it? Haven't got anyone else.
The poor gal's been sitting there for good half and hour.
Can't even offer you a cup of tea, I'm afraid.
The Canteen's closed.
Right, well, then, when did you last see her? Yesterday morning, half past seven, when she left the house to do her paper round.
She does a paper round on her bike and then goes straight on to school.
Well, when I say I saw her, that's not quite true.
I'd already left for work.
We've had a lot of people down with this flu and I said I'd go in early.
It was Colin who actually saw her off.
Colin, that's your husband, is it? Oh, no, I'm divorced, five years since.
Colin and I, you know, we live together.
Why have you taken so long to come and see us if you haven't seen her since yesterday morning? We'd had a big row the night before.
Somehow it sort of started up again the next morning, just before she went out.
She said she wasn't coming back and we'd be sorry.
Could she have gone to her father? Unlikely, he's in the Middle East.
Have you spoken to her friends? They haven't seen her.
She didn't go to school yesterday and nobody's seen her this morning? What was it about, this row? The usual.
What's the usual? She's never really been very happy about Colin and me.
Right, well, then.
Let me take a few details, can I? Right, now then, it's Paula Bartlett, yes? Mm-hmm, she's what, age 15? Now, can you give me a description? Dark hair, shoulder length, brown eyes, about 5'3", a little bit overweight, not much, just a little bit.
And she was wearing? Blue anorak, new.
Red cardigan, gray scarf, gray socks.
I can't remember her shoes.
I can check when I get home.
She's only got the two pairs.
Oh, and she always wears the same bracelet, a silver charm bracelet her father gave to her.
He sends her one of those little charms for her birthday every year.
Anything else I should know? No, no, not really.
All right? No, it isn't bloody well all right.
You should have come with me.
Don't start, Cheryl, not again.
Well, shouldn't you? Okay, I was wrong.
D.
S.
Gilmore? Here.
Chop, chop! Morning.
Morning, sir.
Who is that? Your partner.
She's punishing us.
That's what this is about, you know it is.
She's just punishing us.
Yes, well, maybe she's got good reason.
Well, it's just plain daft, Cheryl, I mean, for God's sake.
Oh, it was just plain daft before as well, wasn't it, Colin? I wondered how long it would be before that came up.
She's my daughter, all right? My daughter.
Hello.
Yours or mine guv? Mine and make it snappy.
I mean I don't mind driving, If you're gonna get all mad.
That's all right, just shut up and get in, will you? I think the Chief superintendent would like a word guv.
There's a bit of luck, sir.
You just called me.
I've had a telephone call from the Vicar of St.
Pauls.
He was very concerned about this outbreak of vandalism in the old churchyard.
I'm not surprised, sir, it's a very grave business.
Apparently some of the stuff they've been spraying on the tombstones suggest it might be the work of devil worshippers, Satanists, call them what you like I assured him I'd have a senior officer look into it.
That'd be lucky.
We've only got about six blokes who can stand up, Iet alone chase a box of Black Magic.
I want a car in the area tonight.
The vulnerable time seems to be about 10.
.
00 or midnight.
Geesh.
You sure you don't mind? As long as you don't knock ash all over my nice clean carpet.
Oh, yeah, right.
Hu-huh.
How long you given up? Three and a bit weeks.
It's not easy, is it? No.
What the hell time do you call this? Sorry.
Well, you are the police, I take it? Yes, that's right, sir.
Well, my wife called you at 9.
.
00 o'clock this morning.
Oh, Mr.
Cumpton, is it, sir? Compton.
Oh, we wondered about that, didn't we, Sergeant? Yeah, yeah, we was wondering about that.
Yeah, whether it was Compton or Cumptom.
Oh, by the way, Detective Inspector Frost, this is Sergeant Gilmore.
Well, shall we go inside, sir, or would you prefer the interview al fresco? They've finally arrived.
Sorry about that, Mrs.
Compton, we've been up to our eyes.
You do know I've been frightened out of my life? That's all right, darling.
Sit down, will you? Thank you.
Oh, do you mind if I smoke? Well, yes, I do, actually.
Quite right, madam.
Whenever you're ready.
Well, it started about a month ago.
I was alone in the house.
George was away on business.
At about 1 :00 o'clock in the morning, the phone rang.
When I answered it, the receiver went down.
It rang again every half hour throughout the night.
In a place as isolated as this, she was obviously terrified.
Then we started getting these disgusting magazines through the post.
I mean, God only knows, we're broad-minded enough, but these were horrible.
And before you asked, no, we didn't keep them.
They went straight on the fire.
Were they addressed to the both of you? No, to my wife.
Then the phone calls started again, night after night.
This time, he kept repeating my name.
And you didn't recognize the voice? Of course, she didn't recognize the voice.
Do you think we'd be sitting here if she did? And you've got no idea who could be doing this? None whatsoever.
It's obviously some warped bastard's idea of a joke.
Yeah, well, there's usually a reason for this sort of thing, warped or otherwise, but none that you could think of? I've already said, no.
What line of business you in, sir? We deal in rare books and prints.
There's a few manuscripts.
There's over a quarter of a million pounds of the stock in the library.
That's a bit of a risk, isn't it sir? There's a highly sophisticated alarm system and automatic sprinklers in every room.
It was a condition of the insurance policy.
But what the hell that has to do with this business, I've no idea.
Right, sir.
Anything else happens, phone the station right away and ask for me, Frost.
Are you saying you're taking no action? What I'm saying is, apart from seeing if the undertaker can tell us anything, there's very little action we can take, unless there's a direct threat to your wife's life.
Sorry.
Marvelous, bloody marvelous.
My what on Wednesday? Cancel it.
No, Leonard, just cancel it.
What do you mean, what do you tell them? You tell them I'm visiting my sister's grave in England, that's what you tell them.
Leonard, why is it that every time I leave the house for more than ten minutes, you disintegrate.
Will you please, pull yourself together and act like a mature human being.
No, Leonard, no, I am not being aggressive, I am being assertive.
And I no longer wish to continue this conversation.
I shall call you tomorrow.
Goodbye, Leonard.
Leonard sends his love.
Oh, all right.
You didn't mind that I phoned him? No, no, fine.
He worries about me.
So, what was your day like? Day? Oh, well, you know, this and that.
What was your day like? Fraught.
I'll get your dinner.
Oh, right.
And just to set your mind at rest, I shall stay as long as you need me.
What about Leonard? Leonard understands.
Oh, and I phoned your doctor.
You have an appointment for a Vitamin B shot Thursday, 9:00 a.
m.
I've written it on your pad.
Who's there? Who is it? You must be lonely now.
I was lonely before.
That's very unfair, Bill.
Unfair or not, it happens to be true.
It wasn't much of a marriage.
You sure you want me to hear this? Oh, come on, Marion.
Close or not, she must have said something.
Well, we did pick up certain vibrations.
You're not eating your broccoli.
I don't like broccoli.
It's good for you.
Just so you know, I don't like anything green.
Well, what vegetables do you like? Gray ones.
Would you like some tea? I bought some real coffee.
I know it's been a terrible shock, but you mustn't let yourself go.
Marion, I was always like this.
That was half the trouble.
Far be it for me, and tell me to mind my own business, but I can tell from your complexion you eat the wrong things at the wrong time.
For instance, you eat far too much meat, right? Marion! (phone ringing) Frost.
Sorry to call you out guv.
That's all right, I reckon you did me a favor.
Right.
This is Mr.
Turner sir, the churchwarden.
Evening, it was me who reported it.
I've had a look around, no sign of anyone.
There were two of them, I think.
Broke into the crypt.
They must have, they were ringing the bell.
How did they get in? There are some broken railings around the side.
Right, well, the sooner we take a look, the sooner we can get Home, isn't that right, Mr.
-- Turner.
Turner.
Come on, Constable, Iet's have some light on the subject.
I thought it would have been bigger.
Why, they're not going to get up and dance are they.
(bell ringing) What's a bell doing inside a crypt? It was installed 150 years ago, by the first William Dobson.
He was terrified of being buried alive.
He wanted to be able to summon help in case he woke up in his coffin.
Oh, must have died with a smile on his face, huh? Well, Mr.
Turner, everything seems to be in order.
Still, the door all broken.
Yes, I know, we won't -- Wait a minute.
What's that then.
Get on the radio to the station, son.
Tell Sergeant Wells we found the body in the churchyard.
And when he stops laughing, tell him I think it's young Paula Bartlett.
I told you, there were two of them.
What, short, young, old, what? I couldn't see.
I'm not a trained observer, that's your job.
And excuse me, but where were you when they were here? You were supposed to be on watch, not keeping your feet warm around someone else's fire you shouldn't have been.
Thanks for being so patient, Mr.
Turner.
If anything else should occur to you, would you be good enough to call us at the station? I don't suppose anyone's got a flask of tea have they? Sorry, guv.
Probably an apple in the car.
I could kill for a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich.
Where's the Governor? Gone over to tell the girl's parents.
One of the joys, eh? The thing is, I mean, you're not saying it's her definitely? What I'm saying is, according to the description you gave us, we have reason to believe.
You want the body identified then? Yes, one of you will um, you know.
I'll do it, love.
You've done enough haven't you.
If it's my daughter, I want to see her, all right, I want to see her! No, no that's alright, Dory.
You tell him to stay in bed until he's really fit.
We'll manage.
Yeah, yeah, right, bye, love.
Skiving bastard, Who? Johnny Johnson.
Everyone knows he's a bloody hypochondriac.
When he get a headache, and he thinks it's a tumor.
Been on all night, have you? No, no, six o'clock.
I'm just about up to here with it.
Mullett wants to see you.
Canteen open, is it? No.
Why is it so cold in here? That's another thing, central heating's up the spout.
What do you want? Yes? Good morning, sir.
You wanted to see me? Good morning, yes.
I understand the girl's parents have identified the body.
Yes, the mother, sir.
Anything for us to go on? No, not as yet.
Forensics are at it.
We'll wait and see when the post mortem shows up.
Which is when? They said they'll phone me, probably early this afternoon.
Could you --? In the absence of Chief Inspector Allen, I've decided to take full executive control of this case myself, Ieaving you responsible for the day to day routine.
Suits me, sir.
Whether it suits you or not is hardly relevant.
Now, what else have you got on? Nothing that can't wait.
Good, so this is your number one priority.
What do you need to achieve an earlier result? A lot more men and a lot of bloody luck.
Luck seems to be something you have in spades.
As for manpower, I'm sorry, what we have is all we're getting.
Keep me informed.
Yes, sir.
And Jack, I thought I asked you to keep that graveyard under surveillance.
Good job we didn't sir.
Otherwise we might never have turned up the body.
As I said, in spades.
I've got daughters.
Two, as a matter of fact.
We live what, 200 yards from the bus stop, but either me or the Miss.
is always there to meet them.
Oh, dad, they say, oh, dad, nothing, I say.
You don't walk home on your own, not even 200 yards.
No, no, no, no, no.
You stay there and eat your dinner.
Geoff! Does your father know what you do for a living? Not what you're looking for, eh, sir? Uh, no, not really.
Not adult enough, is that it? Well, something like that.
I do have some more interesting material out in the back.
Videos and so forth for the more discerning amongst us.
Is that right? It's more expensive, of course.
Oh, of course.
But I do take cards.
All cards? Most of them.
Yeah, do you take that one? Just pulling your leg, that's all.
Me too, Mr.
Rickman.
It is Mr.
Rickman, isn't it? Geoffrey Rickman, yes.
How can I help you? Her mother told me that Paula Bartlett did her paper round from here.
Oh, that poor kid, and the poor mother.
I mean, I was telling my wife, we heard it on the radio.
I mean, you read about these things, but you nev -- yes, she did, yes.
Right, well, the morning she went missing, Monday, did you notice anything different about her? No, no, she came in, same as usual.
No, a bit later than usual, actually.
Not much, ten minutes or so.
You haven't got a map of her round have you? No, but I could do you one.
Oh, thank you, you're a gent.
How long did it usually take her? To finish the round? Yes.
Hour and a quarter, I suppose.
Not that day, though.
Why, what happened that day? Well, she never finished it, did she? Well, I don't know, you tell me.
I thought you would have known.
But then suppose how could you? Known what? She didn't deliver the last two papers.
How do you know that? Well, they came in and complained.
Mr.
Bell, with his Independent and the Hamiltons with The Sun.
I never thought anything about it at the time.
You see, sometimes I think I've put them in the bag, and I haven't.
That poor kid.
What was she like? I mean, how would you sum her up? Was she immature or old for her age or what? Oh, immature, definitely.
Moody, very moody.
Did she have any boyfriends? Not that I know of.
Shouldn't have thought so.
She was a plain little thing.
She didn't get on with her so-called stepfather by all accounts.
But you know all about that, no doubt.
Would I? There was all that trouble, wasn't there? Was there? What I mean, he's got to be a bit peculiar, hasn't he? I mean, what sort of a bloke goes with a woman ten years older than him? -- Cheryl.
Doesn't do any good, you know it couldn't (unintelligible).
I think I'll go to Ruth's for a couple of days.
What about the police? What about the police? If you've got something to tell me, you know where I am.
Well, I'll run you over, then.
Just take me to the station, that will do.
Yeah.
I just want to get out of this house for a few days, be on my own.
What you mean is, needing your family.
Your proper family.
Why don't you say it? Why don't you say what you're really thinking? You think I don't know? I would say she'd been dead approximately 36 hours.
Yes.
In the afternoon she went missing.
As you can see, there are signs of manual pressure applied to the neck.
The killer's hands went around her neck so the girl would have struggled, grabbing his wrists, but he maintained his grip, swung her from side to side, striking her head against a wall, probably hard enough to make her lose consciousness.
And as you can see, there are marks on the body and bruising to the side of the head.
But if she struggled, wouldn't she have marked him in some way, you know, scratched him or something? If you're looking for telltale pieces of flesh under the fingernails, then I must disappoint you, Inspector.
We didn't find anything.
Pity.
There was clear evidence of sexual intercourse shortly before she died.
Rape.
There's evidence of bruising that could suggest intercourse took place against her will.
On the other hand -- She was raped.
If I might be allowed to continue.
The girl was a virgin.
She could have submitted willingly, but remained tense instead of relaxed, which might account for the bruising.
Equally she could have been raped.
There's no magic way of knowing at this stage.
So if I produce a suspect, It could positively incriminate him, or eliminate him if you supply us with a blood sample for comparison.
Oh, I'll get you a blood sample, even if I've got to drain it out of him myself.
I mean, look at her, she's just a kid.
Anything else? Yes, the stomach contents.
This gray -- Just tell me about it, will you please, doctor.
She hadn't had time to digest her last meal before she died, something with chips and peas.
Sad little meal for a sad little end.
You'll have a detailed analysis sometime tomorrow.
Sorry if I let you down in there, Governor.
Mmm, don't worry about it.
I can't stand post-mortems.
Ever since I was a Bobby on the beat they turned my stomach, and I still can't get used to it.
When you see someone like that, I don't know it's just a pointless waste.
The first post-mortem that I went to, he took out the pelvic bone and he said, do you mind if I keep this, Constable it's very interesting? And he (unintelligible) chicken wire.
You're joking? No, as I live and breathe.
Any news? Not yet, I'm afraid, Mr.
Fletcher.
Can't be easy working with something Iike this on your mind? It's either this or sitting home staring at the wall.
I mostly work by myself.
Makes it easier.
Don't have to talk to people, seeing them, not knowing what to say.
By the way, Mr.
Fletcher, I'll need to see the girl's room.
That's no problem.
Her mother's gone away.
Oh.
She wanted to get away from the house.
She's going to stay at her sister's for a couple of days.
If you want -- No, no, that's all right.
What, shall we say about 6:00 o'clock? Yeah, yeah, that's fine.
Good.
Truth is, I wanted to have a word with you anyway.
Oh, yes? What about? I think there's a bloke involved.
A bloke? What do you mean? The night before, after we'd had this bloody row, Cheryl went down to the shops to get some things, and Paula must have thought I'd gone too, because she made this telephone call.
I didn't hear it all, but she was telling this bloke how she really had enough this time, how she was leaving home, and that she'd see him same time tomorrow.
As soon as she put the phone down, I asked her what it was all about, but she just blanked me.
We didn't -- We didn't exactly get on.
I mean.
Did you get a name? No.
What makes you think it was a bloke? It could have been anyone, girlfriend, classmate? No, definitely male.
It was the way she spoke, kind of putting it on you know, the way they do.
Did you tell her mother? No.
Why not? I thought -- I thought she was going to be all right.
Two old ladies, the Mrs.
Harkinsons.
One of them saw the girl peddling down the drive after she delivered their newspaper.
Which way did she turn? Couldn't remember.
So she delivers her papers up to here, and then she stops.
Why didn't she finish her round? Maybe her bloke turned up.
Funny way, running after your boyfriend I would have thought, halfway through your paper round.
Bloody sure I wouldn't want one of my kids delivering papers out in a weird place like this.
I don't know, parents, they are sorry sometimes? (unintelligible),or not they're paying for it.
There you go, Farm Cottage, Mr.
and Mrs.
Hamilton.
(dog barking) Shut up! For God's sake, shut up! Get back in there! Who is it? Police! What do you want? We're looking for Lord Blukin.
Open up, love! Come round the back! I'm busy! Well? Don't you want to see any identification? You couldn't look more like a copper if you had a flashing blue light sticking out your head.
It's about the young girl who delivers your newspaper.
Young Paula? Yeah, sad, isn't it? You know about that then? We're not that skinny that we haven't got a television.
But you haven't got a license? You can't have everything in this world.
Did you see her Monday morning? I wasn't here.
Was anyone? He was.
Is he here now? Does it look like he's here? What time will he be back? Depends how well he's done.
What's that mean? He works the markets.
If he's done well, he's liable to stay out all night, pissing it up against the wall.
We'll come back, then.
Suit yourself.
What time will be convenient? Not between 6:00 and 8:00.
We're having a cocktail party.
This should have been our last port of call, Mr.
and Mrs.
Michael Bell.
All locked up, by the look of it.
Bin bags on the brain.
You know where he works? Mr.
Bell? Yes.
Detective Inspector Frost, Denton CID.
Oh, yes, of course.
They said you were coming.
It's about Paula, isn't it? Yes.
I'm not sure how I can help you.
Well, did you see her that morning? No, no, I didn't.
Did anyone, your wife perhaps? My wife is dead.
It was her funeral on Monday.
Her parents had come down on the overnight train, and I'd gone early to the station to meet them, which is why I wasn't home that morning.
I see, I'm sorry, sir, I had no idea.
No, no, no.
She'd been ill for some time, and was expected.
Nevertheless, you'll appreciate that it's a very difficult time for me.
Yes, of course.
Sorry, I have to -- Not at all.
Please ask your questions.
What time did you get back home, sir? Let's see, the service was over by half past 1 1 :00.
There was a slight hiatus, because we came under rain very heavily.
The perfect day, you might say.
Afterwards we had a rather desultory lunch at the Stanford Hotel.
I didn't have the heart to invite people back to the house.
I took the in-laws to the station and was back home by just after 2:00, I think it was.
I see, and your in-laws can confirm all this, of course.
Yes, of course.
And you saw no sign of the girl at all that day? No, I'm afraid not.
No, well.
That's all the questions I have to ask you.
I'm sorry I've had to bother you, sir, but in a case like this, it's -- Not at all.
Sir, thank you.
By the way, you called her Paula.
Does that mean that you knew her? You mean you don't know? A lot of people seem to be asking me that lately.
Don't know what, sir? Well, I gave her a lift to school most mornings after her paper round.
I mean, it's a long way out, but if the weather was bad.
How did that come about? Well, I'm a friend of Colin, Colin Fletcher.
We belong to the same angling club.
I assume Colin would have told you.
So you must have chatted to her? Oh, we talked, certainly.
Did she ever mention anything about a boyfriend or anything? Good lord, no.
She wasn't that sort of girl.
Thank you for your time, sir.
Her rounds go from the Parkinsons, on to the Hamiltons, and on to the Bells.
But on Monday that's as far as she got.
So the three big questions are who's this man she's supposed to be meeting, why didn't she get any further than the Parkinson's, and what happened to the bicycle she was riding? I suppose the bloke could have always thrown the bike into the boot of his car, assuming of course that he had a car and assuming even more that there is a bloke.
Do you think this man Fletcher could be lying? I don't know, I don't know, it just doesn't sit right.
I mean, run off with a bloke, yeah, but not in the middle of your paper round.
I had a word with some of her friends at school.
If she was seeing a bloke she was keeping very stumm about it.
A bit unusual for a 15-year-old, a 15-year-old virgin at that.
I don't know, there's something wrong somewhere.
Anyway, this is an identical bike, except hers was yellow.
They didn't make a note of the serial number, but I'm chasing up all the retailers.
We might have a bit of luck, because it's only six months old.
The only other thing that's missing of course is the bag that she carried her papers in.
What action have you taken? Sir? I've got a couple of teams out looking, and I've also given the story to the local rag.
They'll be publishing it tomorrow.
What I was hoping for, sir, was for you to get us a few minutes on the tele.
Right, I'll look into it, sir.
If I catch them now, I should just make the early evening news.
Do you want me to go on, sir? No, I'll do it.
Cover your animal's eyes and lock up your children.
Mr.
Mullett's making another one of his television appearances.
So nothing missing then, no clothes, no money, no suitcases? No, no, nothing.
Funny, then, you'd think if she was going off with some bloke -- Could she have come back after you left for work, sir? No, she left her key behind.
Why would she do that? I don't know.
I suppose she either forgot or -- Well like I said, we were having this terrible row.
Or maybe she just left it, so let us know she wasn't coming back.
I don't know.
Did you see the key after she'd left for her paper round? No, I didn't come up here.
Then she could have left it when she came back the second time, if she did, that is.
What did she have for breakfast? Nothing, that's how the row started again.
What about the night before, Sunday? What did she have to eat? Same as us, roast lamb.
Why? Where were you Monday morning, Mr.
Fletcher? I was at work.
On your own or with anyone? I was on my own most of the day.
What are you trying to -- Do you mind if I have a look downstairs, sir? I've got to be honest with you, Mr.
Fletcher.
All that stuff about you not wanting to tell the mother because you didn't want to upset her, or how the girl going with that bloke, I don't know.
Sounds a bit iffy to me.
How'd you mean iffy? Well, all I know is if it had been my daughter -- But she's not my daughter, is she? I'm just saying.
She said if I told her mother, she'd cause trouble.
What do you mean trouble? She said she'd say I'd been interfering with her.
Quite the little schemer, eh? You don't know the half of it.
I know she's made allegations of sexual harassment against you before.
It's on record.
It was when I first moved in with Cheryl.
She just hated me.
I know she was upset about her father, but she made out our life hell, I can tell you.
And not one grain of truth in what she said? She wanted nothing more than me out of her mother's life and her father back in it.
And that's how she chose to go about it.
If I caught the 1 1 :00 o'clock express, I could do the West End and be back in good time to cook you a meal.
Maybe we might go out somewhere? Yes, yes, right.
Incidentally, what are you doing with her things? Things? Oh, things.
I don't know, I hadn't really thought about it.
Get rid of it, most of it.
Clothes, certainly, (unintelligible) something like that.
Maybe we should do that together.
It'll make it less painful for you.
And I do know there are one or two bits and pieces that she'd like me to have, things mother gave her.
You wouldn't mind, would you? No, no, no, no.
Go on, you take what you want.
I've got to go, I've got to go to work.
Well, what about your food? That's all right, I'll grab something out.
Whoever killed her didn't just stagger in here with her body all neatly gift-wrapped hoping he'd find somewhere to find her.
He knew that crypt was there.
He knew how to get into it.
A lousy place is graveyards.
Give me a decent cremation every day.
My wife's buried over there.
Let's see, plumber.
Plumber, yes.
I knew there was something I wanted to show you.
Come on.
I noticed it last night.
Looks like it's just been put in.
Yes, and the vicar would know who by, wouldn't he? I'll wait for you in the car.
Where is he? Number two.
No, he's guilty.
Don't bother with a trial just hang him.
Bernard Hicks, 44, married, no children.
The day the girl went missing, he was supposed to be working in the cemetery, installing that new standpipe.
His time sheets said he started work at 8:00, but the vicar's post said he didn't arrive to work till 9:00.
Sorry to keep you, Mr.
Hicks.
Just a few questions, if I may? I'd like to ask you one first.
What am I doing here? Haven't they told you? It's just routine inquiries, Mr.
Hicks.
All the same you people.
Come on, then get it over with.
I've got a living to make.
All right now, Monday morning according to your time sheet here, you started work at 8:00 o'clock.
Now that's a bit of a porkie, isn't it Mr.
Hicks.
Is that what this is about? I fiddle one rotten hour, and the boss is calling the firing squad.
Well, they can stuff their -- Just a minute.
It's her I'm interested in.
You read the papers and you know what happened to her and where it happened to her.
I didn't have nothing to do with it.
For God's sake.
Monday morning you weren't where you were supposed to be.
Tell me about it.
I was supposed to be putting in a new standpipe.
They're extending the burial section, so the old pipe had to be rerouted.
I get the van out, but it won't start, so I call this mate of mine.
He's one of these mobile mechanics.
And by the time he's fixed it I'm an hour late.
I've worked in the cemetery till dark apart from half an hour in the pub for my dinner.
Rerouting the pipes, were you? Does that mean going through the old crypt? No, of course it didn't.
Then what were you doing in there? How the hell do you know? What were you doing in there? About 1 1 :00 o'clock there was this bloody great storm.
I was getting absolutely soaked, and I was just getting over the flu.
Anyway I was by the crypt.
and I tried to get in out of the rain, and I couldn't.
So I forced the screws out with my hammer and stood inside the door.
When the rain stopped I put the screws back in and got on with my work.
I see you live on Blamford Avenue? That's right.
It's on the girl's paper route, Blamford Avenue.
I've not even seen her, I tell you.
Of course, you haven't.
What's the name of this mechanic of yours? What are they like? Oh.
Not bad, not bad at all.
Cup of coffee, I think.
Then you can get on with the vegetables.
Well, have you seen your pond? The pond, why? The fish, they're dead.
Dead? What do you mean, dead.
Dead, floating on the top they are.
(phone ringing) Yes? Take your time, Mrs.
Compton.
My daily was here.
We were preparing food for a dinner I'm giving this evening.
Was giving.
She, Mrs.
Blakiston, went into the barn where we store the apples, and when she came back, she said that all the fish in the pond were dead.
I checked.
It's full of bleach.
I just didn't understand.
And then the telephone rang, and when I answered it, he said -- He said, easy to kill the fish, easy to kill you.
The same voice? Yes.
And you still can't recognize it? And you can't think of anyone, anyone who might be doing it to you? No.
Mrs.
Compton? No.
If that doesn't constitute a direct threat on my wife's life, I don't know what does.
Well, she certainly seems to be the target.
All right, so what are you going to do? We'll make the usual inquiries and see what we can pick up, but as I said before, in a situation like this without any positive leads.
Yeah, well all I know is this.
If that bastard so much as Iays one finger on my wife, I'll kill him, and that's a promise.
It's not a very clever one, though, is it, sir.
Now why don't you just leave it to us, all right? Not a lot to go on.
Well, we know what we think of him.
What do you make of her? I wouldn't say no, if that's what you mean.
Don't mess about, I'm being serious.
Well, typical I suppose.
Of what? That sort of woman.
Bit of a bimbo.
Hand her a penny, she knows more than she's saying.
(unintelligible) Oh, no, I haven't.
Of course, you haven't, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to drive that van home, would you, Mr.
Hamilton? Have you got one of those nice little balloons handy Sergeant? I never leave home without one, sir.
What do you want? On Monday morning your wife was out, I understand? I'm not his wife.
I'm his significant other person.
That's right.
You've been out all night, working with the Salvation Army, ho, ho.
Yes, but you were in first thing.
No.
Your significant other person says you were, sir? Yeah, well, I got this mate, you see, I've been out with him showing his greyhounds.
You promised me you wouldn't go anywhere near him and his rotten dog again.
That was Saturday.
I'll kill him.
I will.
I'll kill him.
For God's sakes, shut up.
What about her and her dog? What time did you get home? About 4:00.
And the papers still hadn't been delivered.
I went in next day and complained about it.
Poor little kid, eh? Do you mind if we have a look around? What for? I can easily get a warrant, an hour at the most.
Just tell me, what is it you're looking for? What about a kid's bicycle? I don't know anything about a bicycle.
What are you looking so worried about? I've got a mate works for the Council.
He gets this stuff for me.
Soap, bin bags, toilet rolls that sort of stuff.
Yeah, all right, he nicks it, I sell it down at the market.
You going to book him? No, I'm going to give him a medal.
Of course, I'm going to bloody book him.
What is it this time? Mr.
Fletcher, I've had the pathologist report, and I must tell you there's evidence of sexual interference before Paula died.
I shan't be releasing this information to the press, but it's bound to come out sooner or later, and I thought you might like to find a way in which you can tell her mother.
I suppose in a way we'd already guessed.
I'm sorry to be hard on you, sir, but there's still one or two questions I must ask.
Did Paula wear lipstick? Lipstick.
She might have worn some when she went to a party or something.
There's none in her room? No, she always used her mother's.
But she didn't wear any to go to school, that Monday morning, for instance? Of course she didn't.
Why do you ask? Because she was wearing some when she died.
It's in the pathologist's report.
It would be a help if you could ask her mother to check to see if she's got any lipstick missing.
Yeah.
Thank you.
Oh, yes, there was one other thing.
I understand that one of the people Paula delivered her papers to used to give her a lift to school most mornings.
Mike.
Mike Bell.
Yeah, friend of yours, is he, sir? Not friend, exactly.
We belong to the same angling club.
Used to.
He gave up fishing when his wife was taken ill.
She died last week.
So I understand.
So he's more of an acquaintance, then, you and Mr.
Bell.
We didn't socialize, if that's what you mean.
A drink, perhaps, no more than that.
Why do you ask? Because I thought you might have mentioned the fact that he took her to school in his car.
It just didn't -- it just didn't occur to me, that's all.
I didn't think it was that important.
No, sir, probably not important at all.
Contents of the girl's stomach, chicken, chips and peas, white bread and butter.
Dap of brown sauce.
Way to earn a living.
The chicken was still partially frozen.
He reckons it had come straight out of the freezer and gone in the microwave.
It was only partly digested.
He estimates it was eaten about an hour or so before death.
So he took her somewhere before he killed her? Not necessarily.
He could have killed her after she had the meal.
Don't forget, she said to the bloke on the phone, same time tomorrow.
According to, Colin Fletcher that's what she said.
What was the time of death? Well, as near as he could say, it was sometime late Monday afternoon.
The day she went missing.
That's right, yeah.
Any response to Horned Rim Harry's TV Spectacular? Yeah, it's been pretty good, actually.
Fifteen sightings, ten of them impossible, the other five, dodgy, but we're checking on it.
What about the bike? Nothing.
Anything else? Yeah, well, the plumber seems to be in the clear.
We've got a statement from the mechanic who did his van, and four witnesses who saw him working in the churchyard.
All right, then he can go to the back of the queue.
Anything turned up on our famous computer? The Hamiltons, sir.
They both got form.
He's been down three times, twice for receiving, once for GBH.
He took a bottle to someone in a pub.
Apparently, quote, he's a devil when the drink's on him, a real Jekyll and Hyde.
What about her? Two cases of aggravated assault, both of them on teenage girls.
Is that it? All right, thank you very much.
Oh, Constable.
Tell me something, why would a young girl who never normally wears lipstick wear it? Probably to look more attractive, certainly to look older.
Thank you.
Right, I'm off to get something to eat.
I'm starving.
The Canteen's still closed, guv.
Good, life aint all bad then is it? Well, there you are, sir.
Marvelous response to your TV appearance that night.
The phones haven't stopped ringing.
Yes, it seems to have gone rather well.
All sorts of useful information.
The big news is that we had an anonymous phone call from someone saying that he and his friends were messing about in the churchyard that night and rang the bell.
From what I could make out it seemed to be a bunch of hippy travelers.
He said there's no idea about the girl, and certainly didn't kill her.
All he could do was apologize for any trouble that they'd caused.
Sounds about right to me.
I can't see anyone stuffing a body in a crypt and then ringing a bell to advertise the fact.
Yes, I'll buy that.
You have the bicycle? Not yet.
Well, we can't expect everything all at once, can we, sir? Anybody wants me, I'm not home.
You've got a visitor.
Does my husband have to know? He's bound to find out sooner or later.
It's just he's so incredibly jealous.
I don't know what he'll do.
How did you meet this man? We were in London for a book fair, two months ago now.
George was with some clients and he telephoned the hotel saying he was bringing them back, that I was to meet them in the bar.
So I went downstairs, and there was this man there, and we just started talking.
It was all entirely innocent, I promise you.
I made it quite clear that I was waiting for my husband.
He never made any sort of move, we just talked.
Well, the next morning, some flowers were delivered with a note asking if we could meet.
My God, you could imagine.
Obviously I hadn't told George anything about the man because he's so horribly jealous.
He got into a fight once before over nothing, absolutely nothing.
Well, then the telephone calls started.
I don't know how he got our number, we're not even in the book.
At first I tried to make light of it, not to make it too heavy, like sort of a joke.
But when he persisted, I finally said that if it carried on like that I would put the matter in the hands of the police.
All he said was all right you bitch, we'll see about that.
And all you knew about him was his name was Lawrence, but you didn't get his surname.
I've seen him.
Well, that's why I made up my mind I had to tell you.
You've seen him, when? This afternoon.
I was driving into town and the car behind me kept flashing its lights.
And when I looked in the mirror, it was him.
I braked instinctively, and he drove past on.
You didn't get the number? Well, I didn't think.
I was completely -- What about the car? Well, I -- it was a medium-sized sedan, dark blue, I think, black perhaps -- a Ford, I think it was a Ford.
If he phones again, I want you to arrange a meeting with him.
Well, how can I do that? Just try, just play him along, Iead him up the path.
That isn't my style, Inspector.
And when you've arranged it, what you do is, you tell me you don't meet him on your own.
Or tell my husband.
Well, that's up to you.
Damien? Leonard.
Leonard, listen.
Leonard, oh, please, that's about $31.
Well, I could get you one for 1 5 pounds, but I don't think you'd like the quality.
What? Light green or dark green? They have both.
The dark green are You sure about that, With your complexion I would have thought the blue.
They have Oxford blue and they have Cambridge blue.
I would have thought the Cambridge.
Oh Leonard please, listen to me, it won't go with anything you have.
I'm sorry, do you mind, I am expecting a call.
He needs to use the telephone.
I'll call you later.
I'm very sorry.
It's just that, people try to phone here and they can't get through.
You mean I'm using the telephone too much? Yes, I'm sorry, that's what I mean.
I'm sorry to let you know.
I have every intention of reimbursing you.
Oh, it's not a question of the money, is it, Marion.
I told you before, it's people can't get through.
I'm very sorry, it won't happen again.
Yeah, well, all right, okay, Iet's just forget about it now, shall we, okay? The newspaper's torn.
Yes.
How did that happen? Did it just now when I pulled it out of the -- oh, Marion, look, it's not going to work, you staying here.
Oh, I see.
It's my fault.
I thought it would be all right having someone around the house, but I was wrong.
It's, I'm not ready for it.
It's my fault, it's nothing to do with you.
I can't pretend I haven't noticed a certain amount of hostility, however, I would have thought that as her sister -- Yes, well, maybe that's the trouble, you know.
Maybe it brings back too many memories, too many things I don't need reminding about myself.
I hadn't realized you were into self-pity.
Look, Marion I don't like you, and you don't like me.
You never have.
The only reason we put up with each other is because you're her sister.
Well, now she's dead we don't have to pretend any more.
(phone ringing) Frost.
Cheer up, Governor.
We found the bike.
Come on, son.
Speak up.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
What? You found it? He told me he bought it from his friend.
That is stealing, Damien.
And sit up straight, the man can't hear you.
That's all right, Damien, don't worry about the stealing bit.
I've got it back now, and that's all I'm concerned about, all right? Now, where did you find it? It was in the ditch.
I saw it when I was in the bus, so I got off and I took it.
Yes, and what about the bag? Was there a bag, you know, one of those big newspaper bags? Threw it away.
What? I threw it away.
So they're both there.
The Sun, for the Hamiltons, and the Bells, Independent.
Yes, you better rush these over to forensic.
They're likely to find something, Iord knows what.
Tell them to get their finger out, will you.
I'm still waiting for the results from that bike.
I've got two blokes down with the flu, and one up an Alp skiing.
Skiing? Dear oh dear.
I can remember when he was five days in Little Hampton and bloody grateful for that.
Tell us about it, guv.
Oh, not to impoverished family, Frost.
With the chicken sandwiches and the mugs of cold (unintelligible).
Hey, Constable, just a minute.
Bring those papers back a minute, will you? Look at this.
I knew there was something.
See this tear.
I did the same thing myself earlier.
This paper's been folded, pushed into a letterbox and pulled out again.
So the Hamiltons are lying.
I was assuming it was their letterbox it was pushed into.
Assuming also it was one of them that pulled it out again.
I'm quite capable, thank you.
Marion.
She was right.
You're not very nice to know.
There you go, Governor.
It's a bit (unintelligible).
Right.
Mr.
and Mrs.
George Compton.
Married six years, Iived in London North Long.
Bought a farmhouse three years ago.
Spent a fortune having it done up, including about ten grand on the sprinkler and alarm system.
Part of the local smart set, naturally.
He's not particularly well liked, but no sniffers yet of anything illegal.
General opinion seems to be that he's got a quick temper and she's something of a teaser.
Quite a combination I would have thought.
They stayed two nights at the White Tower Hotel in Nightsbridge on January 8 and 9, advertising at a book fair in Grovner at the time she said she met the bloke.
On September 23, 1989 he was up before the beat for thumping a Mr.
Jeremy Medwin.
(unintelligible) And that's it for the minute.
Are you a close family man? I don't just mean your wife and kids, I mean, you know, the rest, your mother and father and so on? Do you keep in touch, or is it just birthdays and Christmastime? No, no, we're very close.
Both Ann and I are from large families.
And you know what they're like, in and out of each other's pocket all the time.
Sometimes too much, I would have thought.
But on the other hand, you always know where to go when you're in trouble.
Mind you, that's what families are all about, isn't it.
I remember one time -- Yes, yes, you made your point.
(phone ringing) Hello? No, Gilmore.
Oh, yes, good morning to you, too.
Forensic.
I certainly have, fire away.
Yeah? Yeah.
Thank you very much.
Right, there's nothing on the bag or the bike, but they've had the two newspapers under the microscope.
There's nothing on The Independent, but on The Sun there are traces of black paint and rust along the tear.
Match that, and we're in business.
Come on, get on with it.
The place is empty.
I'm not working with that thing trying to claw me to death.
All right.
Meow, meow.
Go on, get on with it.
The spectrograph analysis of the sample taken from the newspaper showed three layers of paint.
The bottom one was brown, the middle one was gray, and the top one was black.
Now, the analysis of the sample taken from Hamilton's letterbox showed three identical layers, same color, same composition.
Then I don't see the problem.
We now have scientific proof that the newspaper was put through the Hamilton letterbox.
Yes, but the problem is that we can't prove that it was either of them that pulled it out again.
I mean, if the (unintelligible) tests had come up with a decent set of prints that would have been different.
But as it stands, it means anyone could have taken that paper out.
Why would they? Who else would want to make it appear that the girl never got as far as the Hamilton's house? And that's the one and only reason for those newspapers to be left in that bag, to make us believe -- Yes, I'm not that slow, thank you very much, sir.
I want the Hamiltons brought in for further questioning.
I see, sir.
Obviously you have other ideas.
As you're the executive in control, sir, if that's what you want.
That's what I want, Inspector.
Then you'll want a thorough search of the house for backup evidence to show that the girl was there.
Of course.
And as the Hamiltons are out of the house and we don't know what time they're going to be back, you'll be authorizing a sledge hammer through the front door and a bullet through the dog's head, will you, sir? Only I only say this in view of the trouble we had Iast month when you authorized -- Have the house kept under surveillance, and as soon as the Hamiltons return, we'll move in.
Thank you very much, sir.
Oh, sir? Forensic needs to speak to you.
There's been a bit of a cock up.
Oh, no.
What it boils down to is that the paint sample findings might not be as conclusive as we thought.
The tests were fine as far as they went, but what we should have done -- I should have done -- was to have tested other letterboxes on the girls' delivery route.
This I have now done.
And? And several of the letterboxes came up with identical spectrograph readings.
Oh, terrific.
How the hell does that come about? It seems some of the properties in that area are owned by the same landlord.
Every four years the exteriors are repainted, standard colors, standard specification.
So what you're saying is that the girl herself could have pushed that newspaper in any one of those letterboxes by mistake and then pulled it out again.
I'm saying it doesn't have to be the Hamilton place, yes.
I really am very sorry not to have told you this earlier.
If you'd like me to explain it to Mr.
Mullett.
How kind of you, young man.
Please be my guest.
Did you ever see that film, "High Society"? Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Grace Kelly.
That was a really nice film.
Good story, nice songs.
Shut up.
Sorry, Guv.
My money's still on Colin Fletcher.
Mine's on Bell.
I'm interviewing him about the murder of a 1 5-year-old girl he knows, and it's like I'm trying to set him double-glazing.
It's all matter of fact, no emotion, nothing.
Well, his wife's just died.
It's a very difficult time for him.
I mean, blymie, if anything happened to my wife, I don't know what I'd do, or how I'd behave.
There's no way of telling, is there? Some people rant and rave, some people just tap it down inside them.
Just no way of telling.
Maybe.
Oh, Inspector, please come in.
Thank you.
Do you mind coming into the kitchen? No, not at all, sir.
It's warm in here.
I haven't got the heating on in the rest of the house.
There doesn't seem a great deal of point.
Please sit down.
I'm sorry about this.
I've been going through some of my wife's things.
(unintelligible) Sorry? Not the happiest of pastimes? No.
No, it's not.
Can I offer you some coffee or something? No, no, thank you sir, no, it's just a quick visit.
We found the girl's bicycle.
I was wondering what happened to that.
It was thrown in a ditch between here and town.
Little kid had nicked it.
I see.
It was between the double hation turn off at the crossroads.
I was wondering if you'd seen a car or something parked there on your way in and out of town.
No, I don't think so.
No, it was just a bit of a long shot.
I'm just asking everyone who lives out this way you never know.
(phone ringing) Excuse me.
9218, right? Fine, how are you? Yes, I'm just going through some of her things.
Yes, yes it is, it has to be done.
Now rather than then.
Sunday? Nothing at all, I don't think so, no.
Yes, that would be very nice.
1 :00 o'clock Sunday then.
Sorry about that.
Is there anything else I can help you with, Inspector? No, thank you, sir.
When you gave the girl a lift to school, what did you do with her bike? It went in the back of my car.
I have an Estate.
Of course you do.
Thank you, sir.
You any good at tying parcels? No.
My wife used to wrap all the Christmas presents herself, she enjoyed it.
Me, if I tied a parcel, it ended up like an unmade bed.
Blow some of that smoke in me face, will you I'm getting the pains.
Naughty, naughty.
Oh, there we go, about bloody time, too.
I'm not too sure I like this.
Well, don't eat it then.
I mean us in here.
Now, what if laughing boy finds out.
Don't you worry, he won't find out? Who ordered the Vindalu? Me.
Chips.
Anyway, if the heating had been on, we wouldn't need to be in here, would we? Right, okay, where was I? Mr.
Bell.
My money's still on Fletcher.
No, no.
Concentrate on Bell.
Thank you.
He's at his wife's funeral, right, and it starts to pour with rain.
Now, he's got a grandstand view of the plumber tweaking the lock and breaking into the crypt.
Later on, he needs somewhere to hide the kid's body.
Now, who'd think of looking in a place like that? If it hadn't been for those spaced-out hippies, would we? We didn't even meet the girl in the morning.
No, I know, not in the morning.
Don't forget, the post-mortem showed that the girl didn't die until the afternoon.
Are you saying he went to his wife's funeral, then met the girl and killed her? That's exactly what I'm saying.
That's a bit stronger there, guv.
Where's your motive and where's your proof? I don't know where he killed her, but I think I know why he killed her.
And that completes the case for the prosecution, your Honor.
Yes, all right, thank you very much.
I don't believe what I'm seeing.
We've all got to believe, otherwise why are we put on this earth.
He'll go ape-shit.
Well, don't just stand there, pop out and get us another six-pack, will you? There's a good fellow.
We just got a call from Mrs.
Compton.
There's an intruder in the place, and her old man's gone after him.
I've got a car on its way.
Inspector.
Over here.
We found him inside.
Poor bastard.
I presume he's the house holder It's Compton, all right, what's left of him.
Let's get away from here.
All right, come on then, tell me what happened? The place was well alight when we got here.
We radioed for the fire brigade, and after we ran and found Mrs.
Compton.
You went in there? Of course not.
She was around in back in a nightdress, on the lawn unconscious.
Well, where is she now? Somewhere in the village.
What happened to the sprinklers? The water supply was turned off at the main.
Well, get in touch with the hospital, doctors, chemists.
Anyone requiring treatment for burns, we want to know about it.
You're already in hands, sir.
The crowd's got all the cars keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.
Well, done, son.
You too shall have a sweetie.
Oh, boy.
Hi, Jack.
Hi.
Didn't expect to see you here.
I only come out to keep warm.
Come on then, what do you reckon? Petrol, it's all over the place.
We went to bed just after 10:00.
George.
George had an early start this morning.
I woke up suddenly, I don't know why, and he was standing by the window.
He said that there was someone outside, and that he was going down to take a look.
I was to telephone the police.
I asked him not to, but he said he was going to teach whoever it was a lesson.
I was to stay in the bedroom and lock the door.
I waited.
And then I heard shouting and things being knocked over as though they were fighting.
And then it all went quiet again, and I don't know why, but something made me open the bedroom door, and there was smoke coming up the stairs.
And I could hardly see.
And I got downstairs, and all the time I was calling out for George, but he didn't answer.
And I got to the door and out into the garden, I could hardly breathe.
And I was calling out for George.
And I went round the side of the house and looked in, and he was lying there by the table.
I called out to him, but he couldn't hear me.
And then I was screaming and screaming.
And then, nothing.
I should have made him wait for the police.
I should have stopped him.
She's had enough.
Well though it's only a matter of some three days since the girl's body was discovered in the church crypt.
My offices have been working round the clock to bring the perpetrator of this appalling crime to justice, and I can assure your listeners that an arrest will be made very shortly.
Oh, yeah.
Thought you'd like to know, Arthur Levine and Tony Price will definitely be on Monday.
Whoopee.
Well, don't say we don't keep you informed.
Bill.
Organize me a search warrant, will you? Good morning, sir.
I have a warrant to search your premises in connection with the death of Paula Bartlett.
Excuse me, sir.
Well? Nothing, but then what'd you expect? You never know, sergeant.
You just never know.
I wonder if you'd be good enough to unlock your car, sir.
And the boot, please sir? Excuse me sir.
Wait a minute.
What's that? Come and have a look at this, will you, sir? She was very proud of that little charm bracelet.
Her father gave it to her.
Perhaps you can explain how it came to be in the back of your car? Watch someone slowly dying day after day, night after night.
With the smell of death in every corner of the house.
And there comes a time when you die a bit yourself, And you get frightened.
And you get lonely.
and you need -- you need some sort of reassurance that you're still alive and the juices are still flowing, and the old man on the white horse still hasn't quite got his hands on you yet.
In my case, it was work.
It still is.
Damn all else to be honest.
In your case, it was a 15-year-old schoolgirl offering herself to you, because as luck would have it, she was in need of some sort of reassurance herself.
That's what happened, isn't it? And if I'd been in your shoes, who can say? You don't know, do you? You just don't know.
When I came back after the funeral, she was here in the kitchen.
She let herself in the back door.
We keep a key in the shed.
I suppose I must have mentioned it to her at some time.
I asked her what she was doing here.
And she said she'd had a row with her parents and she didn't want to go to school and just wanted someone to talk to.
She was very upset, and so I let her stay.
I suppose didn't want to be alone, either.
She was starving, so I gave her something out of the deep freeze, and we sat here and talked.
And she told me about Colin, her stepfather and how she hated him and how she couldn't bear the idea of him in bed with her mother and how she wanted to punish them.
And why shouldn't she have someone in her life too, and she began to cry.
I put my arms around her, just to comfort her, and she was kissing me.
And I wanted to stop her, I should have just stopped her.
It was her first time, and afterwards I was so ashamed.
I was horrified at what I'd done, but she was dancing around, laughing.
And she was in a kind of hysteria, and she said she was going to stay here and look after me.
And then she went to the dressing table and started to put on my wife's lipstick.
Look, look, she said, I'm just like her, I'm a woman, doesn't matter what they say, I'm a woman.
And she lay there on the bed naked with this lipstick all over her face.
It was grotesque and I told her it was wrong and that she must never tell anyone.
And suddenly she was screaming and shouting that it was all my fault, and that I told her to come here and that Colin could prove that he'd heard on the telephone she pretended to make a phone call to me to upset him, just to annoy him.
And she was banging on the window and shouting that I'd attacked her.
And I pulled her away, and she was kicking and struggling all I wanted to do was stop her shouting.
And I put my hands around her neck and I didn't mean to kill her.
As God is my witness, I didn't mean to kill her.
And that night you drove her to the cemetery, and on your way you noticed the paper sticking out of the Hamilton's letterbox, and you realized if you could get rid of the bike and the two newspapers, it would look as though she'd never reached this house.
Yes.
It was very clever thinking, sir, under the circumstances.
It was an accident, and I'll live with it for the rest of my life.
So will her parents sir, I wouldn't wonder.
It's all ifs, isn't it? If we hadn't had a row that night, if Colin hadn't joined the Angling Club, if it hadn't come on to rain when it did, it's all ifs.
What time will Mr.
Fletcher be back? I'd like have a word with him, giving him something of a hard time.
He won't be back.
He's gone.
It would never have worked out, not in the long run.
I never did trust him, not fully.
Maybe if I'd never met him.
There you go, you see, another one of them ifs.
I just thought I'd double-check.
Fifteen silver charms, one for each birthday, all present and correct.
Is that a fact? That is a fact.
I don't know, wonder where the other one came from then? You took one hell of a chance there, Governor.
Mrs.
Compton here? Yeah, she's downstairs.
Good.
Because I'm just about to take another one.
Mrs.
Compton, thank you very much for coming in.
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.
The thing is, we've had a terrific stroke of luck.
Now, this bloke that's been threatening you, Lawrence something I think you said his name was? Yes.
Lawrence Tidyman, we got him, picked him up last night.
Not only have we got him, he's confessed to everything, about meeting you, threatening you, going to the house last night.
All we need for you to do is to make a positive identification.
Do you think you can do that for me? Well, I'm not sure.
It's all right, don't be afraid.
He can't do anyone any harm.
You're saying this is the man, Lawrence Tidyman? Yes.
Sorry? Yes, yes, this is him.
That's funny, Sergeant, we've got him down as -- what was his name again? Zoltan Piminiski.
He died in a road accident last night at 9:00 o'clock.
He was over here from Hungary, visiting his sister.
She's just identified him.
Oh, and he didn't speak a word of English.
You tell a very good story, Mrs.
Compton.
A bit too good for my taste.
A bit too smooth.
You know what us common folk are like.
Give us a drop of caviar and we're yelling for the rock salmon.
Oh, and I was at the bank the other day.
bank manager over there owes me a favor.
He left your husband's file on the desk while he went outside to play with his abacus.
And even knowing what kind of a nosey bugger I am.
Your husband was up to his ears in debt.
The house is in hock to the bank, you've got creditors galore, and the business took a nosedive 15 months ago with no chance of recovery.
And my bank manager, my friendly bank manager, he's a bit of a cynic, you know.
You know what he said? He said the only way to save the family bacon would be to have a nice little insurance policy and a bloody big fire.
Well, you've had the bloody big fire, what about the insurance? I know nothing about the financial side of the business.
George took care of all of that.
Then let me enlighten you.
The house and contents are insured for three-quarters of a million pounds.
Your husband also carried two hefty life insurances.
You're a very lucky woman, Mrs.
Compton.
Mind you, the way I understand it, most of the money he lost was yours in being long on the charm and short on the readies.
Must have been very unnerving for you.
Do you think I give a damn about the money? Quite frankly, my dear, I don't think that you give a damn about anything else.
A providential fire, business on the rocks, sprinkler system turned off at the mains.
No, no insurance company's going to pay out on that.
So what do you do, you invent this imaginary weirdo who makes phone calls and sends you flowers.
You even get us involved to add that bit of authenticity.
It was George's idea.
I wanted nothing to do with it.
I believe you.
Or I would have done if I hadn't read the pathologist's report.
Your husband suffered a severe blow to the back of the head, and, according to the pathologist, he was unconscious before the fire started.
So now, apart from the imaginary Mr.
Lawrence Tidyman, who else stood to gain the most by knocking your husband unconscious and leaving him to die in that fire? You think about it, Mrs.
Compton.
Forensic are going over Bell's place now.
They've already found evidence of the girl was there, some hair, some fibers they're pretty certain will match the sweater she was wearing.
It'll stand up, if that's what you're worried about, sir.
About this woman, this Mrs.
-- whatever her name is.
Compton? Pronounced Compton.
She'll cough, given time.
But the fact remains in both cases you acted without a shred of concrete evidence.
I know they've done it and I knew we'd get the evidence, necessity being the mother (unintelligible) One of these days you'll learn that to operate efficiently, you'll need more than your well-known intuition.
I use more than my well known intuition, sir.
At least on one of the cases, I did.
I used my charm.
It's a joke, sir, don't bother to work it out.
All right, Iet me have both reports in writing.
Yes sir.
Just a minute.
Can you-- Can you smell something? Like what, sir? Like curry? It's this fire, sir? Oh, yes, it's definitely the fire I'd switch it off if I were you.
Well? One, she only did it because she found out her husband was cheating on her, and two, she wants a solicitor.
Then she shall have one, Constable.
Give her a cup of tea, in a nice cup.
All right, Mrs.
C? You bastard.
No sugar.