Midsomer Murders (1997) s13e04 Episode Script
The Silent Land
This dark and forbidding thoroughfare is Chain Alley.
If you could all please gather here.
And thisis the very spot where poor Lucy Law was murdered on November 3rd, 1831.
Feel the chill in the air? That's because Lucy's ghost still walks the alleyway and that icy coldness is always here, even on a summer's day.
Death by fright, madam? Are you insured against it? I don't think so.
Then you'd better keep up, hadn't you? I'm sorry if the concert disappointed you.
It's just not my kind of thing, Mum.
All that folky stuff.
What do you mean, 'folky'? Those are traditional songs.
They're part of our heritage.
Right.
Be careful where you walk.
We don't want to disturb the residents.
This graveyard .
.
once belonged to the sanatorium.
They were both closed down .
.
but the spirits of long-dead patients have often been seen.
(MUTTERING) (GASPS) What? I saw something.
Over there.
In the north far to thee Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree Do flourish and hold (TURNS VOLUME DOWN) (GASPS) (HORN HONKS) Are you doing the Causton run? Oh, I'll do it later, Dad.
Road's closed.
There's been an accident.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER) Yeah, it's ready to go now, Steve.
WOMAN: Come on, darling.
You should have been taking more care.
And what were you and Cully doing but chattering, I suppose? She was asleep.
It is only a matter of luck neither of you was hurt.
How many times do I have to tell you, Tom? I swerved to avoid someone.
And I'm just not sure whether I hit them or not.
Morning, Mary.
No-one opened up yet, then? No.
So who's librarian on a Thursday? Gerald.
Not like him to be late.
(SIGHS) Not the end of the world, is it, just because the library's not open? It is, if Gerald's got anything to do with it.
He's the first to complain when other people are late for things.
Mm.
(HORN HONKS) Hi, love.
Hiya, Dad.
Talk to your father, will you? He won't listen to me.
Just been back to March Magna.
Searched the area.
But she's still convinced she could have hit someone? Yeah, she is.
There's no bloodstains on the road.
The only marks are the skid marks from her car.
No report of anyone injured or missing in the village.
Hey, guess what? Gerald's gone missing.
Eh? He hasn't turned up for his shift at the library.
Well, I expect he's sick, or something.
Gerald? He's sick, all right.
He likes 'em dead.
Liam, please.
Don't you dare talk about people like that.
Suppose your luck's in at the library now, then? Don't know what you mean.
The way you hang around there.
I would have thought you'd got better things to be doing.
(BARKING) Echo! Do you want a coffee, Dad? No, I've got no time.
I've lost a folder - green folder.
You took it upstairs.
What? I was telling Mum.
I've got the use of Simon's car while he's away, so she can borrow mine.
That's very kind of you, Cully.
(PHONE RINGS) Uh-oh.
What now? Barnaby.
I hit someone, Cully.
I know I did.
Mum, will you stop worrying about this? I can't.
But we checked the road last night, remember? We both climbed out of the car and we looked.
There was nothing.
There was no-one.
Whoever it was could have been injured.
Will you listen to me? They could have crawled away somewhere to die.
Oh, for goodness' sake! What do you think Dad's been doing? He's been asking around.
If anything bad had happened, he would have been told.
What is it? March Magna.
A body's been found.
Morning, sir.
Morning.
His name's Gerald Ebbs.
Who identified him? The person who found him - Mr Kent - he's over there.
(INDISTINCT POLICE RADIO) Morning, Tom.
George.
Well .
.
he would have died some time during the night.
First impressions suggest that he choked to death .
.
but, thenthere is this.
Hardly a penetrating wound.
Nevertheless, a blunt force injury.
It's weird, isn't it, the way he's lying there? Looks as if he's kissing and cuddling the grave itself.
Can he have ermtripped or fallen, somehow? Cracked his head against the stone work and then rolled over, face down? Possible? OrGeorge, I need to ask you this.
Could he have been involved in a road accident and then, somehow, made his way here toto die? Well, I can't tell you at the moment, butI suppose it could have happened, yes.
Hmm.
It's freshly turned, isn't it? This grave's been tended, recently.
Well, it's a bit of a forgotten place.
Those are the only flowers here.
Well, at least someone's kept it all tidy.
Johnny! Heard some police cars earlier.
What's going on? No idea.
Maybe if you got up at a respectable hour once in a while, you'd learn a thing or two.
I'll be back later.
I've just got the Watsons' garden to do.
Won't be long.
Got any work this week? No.
Nothing till Monday.
You shouldn't have to wait on him at this time of day.
I don't mind.
Well, I do.
If he can't get up in time for breakfast, like other paying guests, he should be made to go without.
We don't have any other guests, remember? Anyway .
.
he was working last night.
Huh! Call that work? (COUGHS) Him and his ghosts.
(SIREN FADES) If there's anything else you remember, anything at all - Yeah, well, that's all, really.
Mr Kent.
Thank you - thank you so much for notifying us.
I am Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.
Mr Gerald Ebbs, did he have any family? There was his mother.
She died a few years ago.
Work colleagues? There's only Sarah.
It's a small library.
It caters for those oflimited tastes.
She and Gerald worked separate shifts.
Sarah's second name? Sharp.
She lives on Castle Street.
I guess I'd better let her know.
Someone has to open the library.
Can you tell us anything more about Gerald Ebbs? He wasn't liked by many people.
Was he not? Why? He was a clerk at the parish council.
Enjoyed making decisions, whether the village wanted them or not.
Did you like him? No.
He hated anyone interfering with his precious cemetery.
His cemetery? He managed to get a job here as caretaker.
He used to work here, on a voluntary basis.
You come here most days, do you, Mr Kent? Er - This cemetery, Mr Kent.
It's odd.
Everything's old.
There are no new graves here.
That's right.
Present-day burials and cremations take place at Causton.
It cause a lot of resentment.
Why's that? People who've lived here all their lives like to think they have the right to lie here when they're dead.
But all the people buried here, no-one's died of old age.
That's because most of them were patients.
Patients from where? The old hospital.
It had its own chapel.
The hospital's on the edge of the village.
The one with the long wall.
My wife could tell you more about it - we're both historians - she specialises in local history.
Was it a good ghost walk, last night? No, it was hard work.
People with no imagination are always hard work.
Difficult to scare.
I think it's wonderful, what you do.
Working with ghosts.
How many have you seen? Ermover the years? Quite a few.
Good ones or bad ones? Mostly good.
First, I thought there was one out and about, last night.
Where? In the cemetery.
A woman thought she saw something.
But there was nothing cos, if there was, I would have sensed it.
I don't know how you do it.
John doesn't believe in ghosts, then again, he doesn't believe in most things.
Except moaning.
I hope he believes in you, Alice .
.
because I certainly do.
Give me a shout if there's anything else you need.
Not good news.
Poor Gerald's dead.
His body was in the graveyard all night.
Oh, no.
There was one of those ghost walks last night, remember? What's that got to do with it? Maybe something frightened him to death while he was digging up a grave.
Jess? What's the best thing about necrophilia? Well? You never have to say you're sorry.
Sir! Hello, Mr Kent.
Hello, Sarah.
I erm I wonder if I might come in for a moment.
Yeah.
Anything wrong? Er, yes.
It's the library.
I'm afraid someone's going to have to open it up.
But it's Thursday.
Gerald does Thursdays.
It's the way he's always wanted it.
He's not doing a number, is he? Cos if he's being difficult - He's dead.
I found his body in the graveyard.
Oh, no.
But I don't understand, I mean, howhow did he die? I don't know.
I imagine that he fell.
Poor Gerald.
I mean, I know we had our differences, but this is Look, don't worry, Mr Kent.
I'll open up the library.
It's the least I can do.
I thought I'd better Yes.
(Yes.
) Just there, sir.
There.
Mrs Faith Kent? Yes.
Good morning.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.
Oh.
Well, please, come in.
Thank you.
It's about Gerald, is it? My husband told me the sad news, only he isn't here.
That's OK.
I can talk to you.
Ian's gone to the pub - said he needed a drink after what's happened.
Any excuse.
He also said thatGerald Ebbs wasn't liked by many people.
Ian said that? How dare he? What right has he got to say that about someone? So how did you get on with Gerald? I'd say I put up with him.
He was a bit of a fusspot, but I agreed with some of the things he believed in.
Like what? Looking after the cemetery.
Apart fromkeeping it tidy, did Gerald Ebbs have any other special interests in March Magna cemetery? None that I can think of.
Interest in one particular grave, perhaps? No.
(CHUCKLES) That is the hospital, isn't it? It was always known as the Saint Fidelis.
Saint Fidelis, eh? I'm doing a paper on it.
Your husband and you, do you work together? Ian? No.
Far too low-brow for him.
Talk about the Tudor Constitution or Renaissance English literature and you'll have a friend for life.
It was a forlorn-looking place, that.
Mm.
They came from all over the UK to be treated for tuberculosis.
And, I take it, they died? TB was incurable in those days, Mr Barnaby.
Hence the cemetery.
After you, sir.
Thank you.
Hello again, Mr Kent.
Mr and Mrs Bishop? Yes? I'm Detective Sergeant Jones.
This is Detective Constable Stephens, Causton CID.
I take it you were open last night.
Wouldn't be much of a pub, if we weren't.
Who was in? Just the locals.
Was Gerald Ebbs a local? No.
He never used to drink.
Perhaps he should have.
Might have livened him up.
So, apart from the locals, were there any strangers here? No.
There were some in the village, last night, on the ghost walk.
On the what? MR KENT: The Ghost walk.
Mr Bowmaker, our celebrated ghost guide up to his tricks again.
When I say tricks, I mean tricks.
The man's a fraud.
He makes it up as he goes along.
One more.
And he don't care how many lies he tells in the process.
Just because something bad happened in here, a long time ago, he makes out it's worse than it is.
He tries to make out the pub's haunted.
Which isn't exactly good for business.
So there are no bad vibes here, then? Of course not.
Do you see those beams? Years ago, a landlord hung himself from here, after he'd killed his wife and daughter with a meat cleaver.
Just a domestic tiff that got out of hand.
Does that make the place haunted? The poor man hasn't been dead five minutes and there you are, maligning him to strangers.
They were not just strangers, they were the police.
Was this before you went to the pub, or afterwards? Does it matter? Look, I am just as shocked by the death of Gerald as the rest of the village.
I found his body, remember? I shouldn't think anyone would be allowed to forget that.
The fact remains that he was a sad and annoying little nobody.
He was also lonely.
Do you wonder why? Have you finished with that? Yes.
God, you're such an old woman! (SLAMS DOOR) Good afternoon.
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.
Is it about Gerald? Yes, it is.
Was it the weather that killed him, then? I'm sorry? What? Only it got quite cold, last night.
He wasn't the healthiest of individuals.
Sometimes, he'd spend the whole night in that cemetery.
He told you that, did he? He didn't tell me, I just knew.
People talked about it.
And your names are? I'm Adam Peach, and this is my daughter Jessie.
So when did you last see Gerald Ebbs? A few days ago.
He came in here to buy a small spray of flowers.
Did he say who they were for? No.
He didn't need to tell me.
He's bought flowers here before and he always takes them to the cemetery.
God knows why.
No-one else puts flowers on those graves.
All the people buried there have been dead and forgotten for years.
Anyway, I've got deliveries to do.
Dedicated worker.
Has to be, it's a family business.
Mr Peach, I am forever hearing that Gerald Ebbs annoyed a lot of people.
More than a few.
Anyone in particular? Well, him and Jeff were threatening each other last week.
All because Jeff's lot were leaving litter in the cemetery.
Who's Jeff? His full name's Jeffrey John Bowmaker.
Stephens ran a check on him.
He's obviously some kind of con artist, but there's no convictions under the name.
Here we are, sir.
Jones, there's something I think I should tell you.
Sir? It is just possible that our dead man was the victim of a car accident.
But surely I said just possible.
And, if that's so, it's also possible that the driver of the car that hit himwas Joyce Barnaby.
Yeah.
What are you up to? I have to contact the insurance company.
Leave that for now.
Why don't you let me take you out somewhere? Not today, thanks.
We could get a bit of lunch.
A spot of shopping? I have to be here, Cully.
I have to wait for your dad to get back to me.
Good news or bad, I need to know.
Hm.
We met up at 7:30.
Who's 'we'? Me and my customers.
Met at the usual place: March Lane, opposite the pub.
Here.
It's in my brochure.
Ta.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER) This is all we need: police questioning him on our premises, with all the world to see.
The police have been questioning a lot of people.
It's their job.
(COUGHS) All this is making me ill.
I want him out.
He pays his rent.
(COUGHS) I still want him out.
We need all the money we can get.
Your earnings don't exactly keep the wolf from the door, do they, John? So what time did you and your clients - customers - get to the cemetery? I'd say just before nine.
Did you see Gerald Ebbs there? No.
Mm.
One of them thought she saw something.
I looked, but I couldn't see anything.
What's the name of this customer? Absolutely no idea.
Never seen her before.
You see, they're not locals.
I put adverts out and people come in from other villages.
'A spine-chilling journey into terror.
' I do my best.
Only I don't think the spirits fancied coming out last night.
It was a bit nippy.
(CHUCKLES) (DOOR OPENS) Sorry.
I've been asked to leave the village.
Oh, no.
Why? Just kidding.
Oh.
I'm here to stay.
You've got me forever, Johnny.
(COUGHS) About time they bulldozed that monstrosity, isn't it? (CHUCKLES) Oh, how I despise everything Victorian.
The attitudes, the kitsch, the cloying sentimentality.
(CHUCKLES) Still, it wouldn't do for us all to appreciate the same things in life, would it? No, it wouldn't.
It's been a grim day.
I need cheering up.
Do you fancy going for a drink at the March Magna Inn? You call that being cheered up? I'm surprised you don't take up residence in that hell hole.
Got some news for you.
We found the murder weapon.
You found what? This was found in the undergrowth, some distance from the body.
It's a piece of edging - part of the grave where he was found - and, incidentally, where he was killed.
It matches the wound and there are traces of blood, and I'm sure they'll match as well.
You seem relieved, Tom.
Yes.
You look very smart.
I'm off to do some research, Alice.
For your work? Oh, yes.
It never stops.
Mm.
Mind you .
.
I'd rather be here alone with you.
Now, don't be silly.
Be good.
(COUGHING) I told Vic I'm not going out any more at night.
Not till they find who's done it.
Bowmaker said there could have been someone hanging around the cemetery.
Told Alice.
He'd say anything.
You should know that.
Anyway, police have questioned him.
All this is not going to do our old, historic village a lot of good, is it, Mr Kent? March Magna, historic? So they tell us.
Whoever 'they' are, they are wrong.
Over the centuries, this village has achieved precisely nothing of note.
Those poor, lost souls at the hospital are the only reason this place is on the map.
I'll do as much for my true love As any young man may I'll sit and mourn All on her grave Joyce? For a 12 month and a day Well? The body we are dealing with is that of a man who was murdered in March Magna.
Murdered.
Murdered? Now, listen, Joyce, his death had nothing - nothing whatsoever - to do with your accident.
Do you understand? (SIGHS) Thank God for that.
Let me get you a drink.
No thanks.
No? I still saw someone, Tom, before I crashed.
Yes, so you say.
And I am perfectly willing to believe you because that could very well have been the murderer.
(LAUGHS) (GIGGLES) Gerald's mail.
Mm.
Nice place.
So Gerald was murdered, then.
Yes.
Who could have done such a thing? Like me in this, do you? You look fantastic.
Well, I'm the boss now.
Boss in this place.
I've got to dress the part, don't I? Like that, do you? Do you like me being the boss? I see you've been nicking the best blooms again.
There's a jug in the wash room.
Go and put them in water.
Get a move on .
.
I've got a library to run.
Just bills and a couple of brochures for a dating agency.
Oh, dear.
Hm.
And there's all this.
He must have been a bit of an historian as well.
He's made a lot of notes.
On what? March Magna in the 1870s.
And Sutton-on-the-Hill, Derbyshire, same period.
A place mentioned on the gravestone.
March Magna as it was.
Mm.
And Sutton-on-the-Hill.
Same two places.
Same time period.
He seems to have a real fixation on that grave.
Could the dead girl have been a long lost relative? I have no idea.
Where's that? It says 'The old hospital.
' And back to the graves again.
Caroline Maria Roberts.
Stop there.
'Not dead but sleepeth.
' Here you are, Mum.
Just don't go driving into any more bushes.
Thank you.
I'm sorry to hear about the murder victim, Mum, but at least that means you can relax now.
You're not responsible for someone's death.
Mum? I'm sorry, Cully, I just can't forget it.
You have to.
No.
No, I saw someone.
(SHRIEKS) Nothing and nobody will ever make me change my mind.
What's that? Oh, it's just the March Magna ghost walk guide.
It's nonsense.
Just brought it to show you.
You know, there were people in March Magna that night, Mum.
Tourists.
Maybe that's what you saw.
A tour like this, it could help.
Maybe I could find out something.
Oh, no, you don't.
Don't even think about it.
Any coffee going? Miss Sarah Sharp? Yes.
Good morning to you.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, from Causton CID.
Oh.
Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? About what? Mr Gerald Ebbs.
No.
When did you last see Mr Ebbs? Ermmust have been Saturday morning, he passed by my house.
Was he alone? He was always alone, especially since his mother died.
When did you last have a conversation with Mr Ebbs? Oh, I gave up talking to him a long time ago.
Why? Because he liked to think he ran the village.
He wasn't even born here.
I was.
Where was he from? I think he and his mum moved here from Oxford when he was a child.
Did he travel much? Gerald? Hardly ever left the village.
Why are you asking me this? Well, it's all to do with the cemetery.
Gerald Ebbs seems to have had apeculiar interest in the occupant of one of the graves.
Did he ever say anything about having relatives up in Derbyshire? Not that I can remember.
Or an interest in genealogy, perhaps? Well, if he did, he never told me.
In fact, from what I hear, the only thing that seemed to interest him was that creepy graveyard.
OK.
Thank you very much.
(SQUEALS) It's all right, Alice.
It's me.
Oh! Oh, Jeff! How could you do such a thing? I'm sorry, Alice.
Oh, you frightened the life out of me.
It's just a bit of fun.
Fun? You call that fun? (LAUGHS) It ceased being a hospital in the late-1940s.
Yeah? And then what? A private school.
Then a visitors' centre, up until the late '80s.
After that, it became too difficult and too expensive to maintain.
So what are we looking for? Well, perhaps Joyce really did see someone.
The murderer? It's possible.
And, if she did, that someone - he or she - might be hiding somewhere in here.
Just like it was in the photographs.
Go and have a look upstairs.
See what you can see.
No-one here, sir, and no sign of anyone using it as a squat.
This must have been a busy community.
Full of hope.
Full of despair.
You can almost feel it, can't you? Not me, sir.
A place like this just gives me the creeps.
Oh, Mr Barnaby.
Is this an awkward moment? Yes.
I've got work to do.
I'm sorry.
Just a couple of minutes, please.
OK.
Thank you.
I've just been looking round the old hospital.
It's a fascinating place, isn't it? That's right, but it's long been regarded as an unlucky place.
Why? In the late-1800s, a young, female patient leapt to her death from the top of this staircase.
She wanted to end her suffering.
And a few serious accidents have been recorded since then.
Involving the same staircase? Yes.
Look, I really must go.
I want to catch the afternoon light.
Hang on.
In the In the wall, surrounding the hospital, I came across what seemed to be an old archway, that had been bricked up.
Yes.
It used to be an entrance.
Leading where? To the hospital.
The entrance was for members of staff - doctors and nurses in particular.
Why? Their accommodation was across the road.
They weren't allowed to be seen entering through the main gates.
Sorry, I don't understand.
There was a stigma attached to TB in Victorian times, Mr Barnaby.
So not only do the poor patients have the illness to worry about - They had to suffer the shame as well.
Right.
When was that archway bricked up? Just after the First World War.
What are you up to? I thought I'd try my hair a different way.
Why? Just felt like a change, that's why.
And make-up? I just told you, I'm trying something different.
Then you're wasting your time.
(COUGHS) Well, one thing's for sure.
You'll never change.
You'll always be a bitter, angry man.
(COUGHS) (DOOR CLOSES) Jones.
Sir, I've found out a couple of things.
There's nothing to suggest Gerald Ebbs was related to the girl in the cemetery.
Oh.
So what are you saying? That it was just a morbid fascination on his part? That he was fixated on a dead woman? Seems that way, yeah.
It's like a Well, it's almost like a one-way love affair.
And there's this.
A patient committed suicide by throwing herself from the staircase of the St Fidelis hospital.
Yeah, I knew about that.
Her name was Caroline Maria Roberts, the girl in the cemetery.
That cemetery's always been unlucky.
John was hoping to get the gardening contract there, when the old gardener died, but Gerald volunteered to do the job for free.
I mean, the parish council couldn't refuse that offer, could they? John must have been upset.
Upset? He was furious.
(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) What's a nice girl like you doing in a place - What do you want, Jeff? Tonight's ghost walk.
It's going to be here.
Yes, so I've heard.
I'm on a bit of a recce.
Make sure of a safe route.
Don't want some old biddy suing me if she falls through the floorboards.
Andthere's the historical side of it.
I thought you might be able to help.
I helped you once before.
Never again.
Oh, come on, Faith - No, it means I supply you with historical facts and you bend the truth to make a profit.
It's called poetic licence.
I've heard there's a strange aura .
.
right here, around this staircase.
This will be where I do my big number.
I've already explained to someone, this area's meant to be cursed, but there are no ghosts here.
That's OK.
I'll fill in the missing bits.
(LAUGHS) Hi, Dad.
Hi.
Have you seen that order for Marsh Farm? The roses? No, why? It's gone missing.
Hm.
Those blooms are expensive.
Yeah, I know.
Never mind, I'll make up the order with something else.
What about the wreath for Mum's grave? Oh, that's not a problem.
I put her favourites aside for that.
Only the best for her.
Will you be coming with me tomorrow, love? I can't, sorry, Dad.
You prefer to go and talk to her on your own, don't you? No, Jess, I don't.
So when are you going to get rid of him? Get rid of who? Your old man.
I'm sick of living in a B&B.
We could set up home together.
With your expertise and my showmanship, we'd make a great team.
You've got to stop kidding yourself, Jeff.
Faith by name, but not necessarily by nature, that's me.
You're nothing more than a diversion.
Been a few of those, have there? Oh, yes, and each time there's a risk.
Why? He lashes out.
Gerald's obsession with this particular grave, why would that get him killed, do you think? (Sir.
) (Ah.
) (Mr Bowmaker.
) Mr Bowmaker, what can we do for you, sir? Is the ghost walk still on tonight? Oh, yes, but, don't worry, it won't be taking place here.
I'll be scaring 'em silly at the old hospital.
Have you got permission to go in there? No.
That's part of the fun.
I'll be making sure no-one comes to any harm.
Have you got something to tell us? John Carver.
What about him? He wanted the job as gardener here, but Gerald beat him to it.
John's wife told me it almost destroyed him.
Thank you, Mr Bowmaker.
Find out what you can about this cemetery in the parish records.
Right.
Those flowers for Marsh Farm didn't turn up, then? Then again, I don't suppose they ever will.
So why are you looking at me? Because you bloody took them, Liam.
Don't be stupid.
And I bet I know what you did with them.
You gave them to that jumped-up cow in the library.
She's nobody.
I remember when she used to work in the Post Office shop.
So why would I want to give her flowers? Because you're obsessed with her, that's why.
You can't leave her alone.
You'd do just about anything for her, wouldn't you? So, tell me something .
.
would you kill for her? Good evening.
I was just on my way home from work and I thought I was just passing and I thought I might buy my wife some flowers.
Oh, they're beautiful.
Yes.
Sorry, they're not for sale.
A work of art.
Who are they for? My mum.
Oh.
Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that.
Well, when it's her birthday, Dad makes a special wreath for her, from us all, so we never forget her.
And when is her birthday? It's tomorrow.
She's buried in Causton.
Causton? That's a long way away, isn't it? How often do you manage to visit her? Not enough, I'm always busy.
Anyway, erm What flowers would you like? Liam? May I have a word, please? About what? Sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that conversation you had with your sister.
Sarah Sharp, eh? She's a remarkable girl, isn't she? She's actually made the library look welcoming.
She likes her job.
And, Liam, there were some magnificent flowers on display.
Liam, when did you last see Gerald Ebbs? I don't know.
Three days ago, something like that.
Did you speak to him, or talk to him at all? Why would I want to talk to that man? The man was a perv.
My son's not an easy person to talk to, Mr Barnaby.
He keeps a lot of things to himself.
Yeah, that's all right.
It can't be easy for a lad of any age to, you know, lose his mum.
Yeah.
I suppose it must be difficult for Liam, you know, having his mum buried so far away.
At his age, who knows what's on his mind? But it's more likely to be that young woman in the library, than his mother.
And I don't suppose it helps having ghost walks in the village here, with their promise of an afterlife.
No.
But no-one should ever believe what Jeff Bowmaker says.
Wouldn't you agree with that? I couldn't possibly comment on that.
All right, then Can he be done for fraud? Ah-hah, I don't think so.
I thought I saw a ghost, once.
A real one.
It was at night on the road by the old hospital.
It was only for a split second, but I could have swornit was a nurse.
Then again, it was probably a trick of the light.
Yes, you're probably right.
These things usually are.
Thank you.
(BIRDSONG) (DOOR CLOSES) Hello, Cully.
Flowers for Mum? I'll put them in a vase, or something.
Here.
(Thank you.
) The 12 month-and-a-day were up A voice spoke from the deep Oh, who is this sits on my grave And will not let me sleep? Please, Dad.
Not more of Mum's boring music.
Cos I deserve my own true love That weeps upon my grave The lyrics, Cully, to this song Until I have one kiss From your playful lips Quite strange, aren't they? They're a kind of warning.
Of what? What comfort will I have? Too much grieving will disturb the dead.
After the last couple of days, I'm inclined to agree.
Wreaths, flowers and memorial stones.
What do they do? They keep grief alive.
Where is your mum? No idea.
I let myself in.
I thought you might know.
No.
Wait a minute.
It's Friday.
What's special about Friday? It's gone.
What's gone? The brochure for the March Magna ghost walk.
(BEEPS) (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) Dad? Where's Liam? No idea, love.
Why? I haven't seen him since that policeman was here.
(DIALS) Jones? Sarah? There's a good boy.
(SIGHS) Jeffrey? Alice.
What are you doing, hiding in the shadows? I need to talk to you.
Oh, not now, sweetie.
I've got to rush.
What about us? Mm? Well, what happens now between us? Well, erm, could we Could we perhaps talk about this another time? But Right.
Time to go.
Open the door, then.
Any of you locals fancy joining tonight's (SPOOKILY) .
.
ghost walk? No thanks.
He thinks he's so funny.
You don't know what you're missing.
A large scotch and a smile please, Mary.
(If you can manage both.
) (COUGHS) I suppose you all know tonight's tour is through the old hospital.
I've also been making plans for the future.
I was thinking of holding the next JB ghost experience .
.
in this pub.
It's not haunted.
I know, but it is weird.
And my involvement could bring in much-needed business for you.
We don't need your help.
I could lead my customers through here, up the stairs, through the upstairs rooms .
.
and it won't matter if you're shagging Mary in bed.
(GASPS) That'll make it even more weird.
Right, that's it.
(CHUCKLES) Get out.
I've had enough.
Get out.
Get out! Go on! Good riddance.
You are barred for life.
Really? (COUGHS) Oh, and Johnny, you must do something about that cough .
.
like die.
(GASPS) (DISGRUNTLED MUTTERING) Jeff? Have you seen Ian? Yes, he's in the pub.
Wellbe careful.
He's been watching us.
What's that bastard done to you? Just ermbe careful, will you? (DOOR OPENS) (I have to go.
) We come to the end of Chain Walk.
It is haunted by the ghost of Lucy Law, who hung herself from this tree, mourning the loss of her lover who never returned from the Crimean War.
Her ghost can be seen on St Valentine's night.
Come on.
(CLINKING) It's about time someone livened up these ghost walks.
(SCRAPING) Liam? Sssh! I heard something.
Heard what? I don't know, footsteps.
(TUTS) Well, I didn't hear anything.
Come on.
The St Fidelis Hospital is an unlucky place, and well past its prime.
So, once inside, I would ask you all to stay close to me, for safety reasons .
.
and for whatever else may occur.
Oh, look.
Oh, that's perfect.
Hey, look.
(FOOTSTEPS) Oh, that'll do.
Oh, for goodness' sake, Liam.
Liam? Come back here.
Liam Oh, you little sod.
(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) JEFF: .
.
as they were dragged along.
Picture, if you will, this building in days gone by.
I had a look at the parish records, sir.
Makes interesting reading.
Hey, you two, have you arrested my brother? And why would we do that, Miss Peach? And here, rising above us .
.
is the staircase of the damned.
Follow me.
(SPLINTERING WOOD) Ooh! Careful.
Thank you.
Please, wait here.
Perhaps we can hear the rustle of long skirts and starched aprons.
The rattle of enamel cans and pans.
And the chink .
.
of medicine bottles.
And always .
.
the groans.
The sad cries.
And the telltale cough of the dying.
(MOANS) (SCREAMING) (MOANS) (THUD) (GRUNTS) (YELLS) (SCREAMS) (SCREAMING CONTINUES) Joyce.
I didn't mean for this to happen, I really didn't.
Give me that.
I didn't - Jones, get these people out of here.
OK, everyone, this way.
Follow me.
Liam? I can't get any sense out of Liam.
Where is he? He came home.
He's hiding.
He's around here somewhere.
Please don't frighten him any more than you have to.
He's scared enough already.
He's not the one we've come to see.
Adam Peach .
we've just been talking to your daughter.
And Jessica is very worried about her brother.
And we can understand her concerns very well .
.
because that young man witnessed a terrible event tonight.
He saw his father kill a man.
And that will be with him forever.
Is that your wife? She's beautiful.
Gerald Ebbs - he also had someone to mourn.
No, he had no-one.
There was no-one for him.
I agree, he was a sad, lonely man.
Yet, in a strange way, he found a way to deal with his loneliness.
He got himself a companion.
A girl who died 130 years ago.
And he also had the local cemetery to grieve in, all to himself.
He had no right.
He didn't belong in the village.
Yes, I understand, whereas your wife - She was born here.
Our family have lived in March Magna for generations.
And yet you had to travel all the way to Causton cemetery, halfway across the county, to visit her grave.
I know Causton cemetery.
A big, ugly, noisy place, right up against the ring way there.
Not a place to leave your loved ones, eh? Not fair, Mr Peach, is it? Not fair at all.
I mean, Gerald Ebbs' girl, she was a complete stranger to the village and yet you still tried to put things right, didn't you? and yet you still tried to put things right, didn't you? Mr Peach, three years ago, you made two applications to the parish council for your wife to be buried in March Magna.
On both occasions, you asked for a special concession because of your family's longstanding in the village.
On both occasions, someone managed to have your request turned down, by insisting there were no burial plots and the site was of historical importance.
And that someone was Gerald Ebbs.
The parish clerk.
He really put a stop to things for you, didn't he? And that, Mr Peach, that is why you killed him.
You must have been so hurt, so angry .
.
when you saw him kneeling there.
Kneeling in worship in that beautiful, peaceful place, while denying you the right to do the same thing.
(GRUNTS) (GASPS) I suppose you'd forgotten that there might be other people about that night.
That must have come as a bit of a shock to you.
.
.
but the spirits of long-dead patients have often been seen here.
(GASPS) I saw something.
Over there.
As a matter of fact, Jeff Bowmaker hadn't seen you at all, yet you couldn't be absolutely sure of that, could you? Especially not with a man of his character.
So Jeff Bowmaker had to die.
And the old hospital.
Ideal place.
And yet, this time, someone did see you.
Liam saw you.
(FLOORBOARDS CREAK) Your son saw you.
Oh, for goodness' sake, Liam.
(Liam.
) (Dad.
) Sssh! (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) .
.
in days gone by.
I suppose you might say that all that talk about the staircase being unlucky, all that was true.
And always .
.
the groans.
The sad cries.
And the telltale cough of the dying.
(MOANS) (SCREAMING) (Dad.
Dad) (Dad, stop.
Stop.
Please.
) (YELLS) (SCREAMING) (SCREAMS) Jessica.
Come in.
Come in, please.
Jessica .
.
I think your father has something to tell you.
Dad? I'm sorry I made such a fool of myself.
It won't happen again.
I just had to know That you were seeing things? It's a sad place, this, isn't it? Well, most graveyards are.
Yes, but this one in particular.
I mean, all the people here are no older than Cully.
Hm.
And each one, a stranger, one to the other.
Except for Caroline Maria Roberts.
Come on, love.
Home.
(TYRES SCREECH) Tom? What is it? Erit's nothing.
Let's go home.
If you could all please gather here.
And thisis the very spot where poor Lucy Law was murdered on November 3rd, 1831.
Feel the chill in the air? That's because Lucy's ghost still walks the alleyway and that icy coldness is always here, even on a summer's day.
Death by fright, madam? Are you insured against it? I don't think so.
Then you'd better keep up, hadn't you? I'm sorry if the concert disappointed you.
It's just not my kind of thing, Mum.
All that folky stuff.
What do you mean, 'folky'? Those are traditional songs.
They're part of our heritage.
Right.
Be careful where you walk.
We don't want to disturb the residents.
This graveyard .
.
once belonged to the sanatorium.
They were both closed down .
.
but the spirits of long-dead patients have often been seen.
(MUTTERING) (GASPS) What? I saw something.
Over there.
In the north far to thee Oh, the oak and the ash and the bonny rowan tree Do flourish and hold (TURNS VOLUME DOWN) (GASPS) (HORN HONKS) Are you doing the Causton run? Oh, I'll do it later, Dad.
Road's closed.
There's been an accident.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER) Yeah, it's ready to go now, Steve.
WOMAN: Come on, darling.
You should have been taking more care.
And what were you and Cully doing but chattering, I suppose? She was asleep.
It is only a matter of luck neither of you was hurt.
How many times do I have to tell you, Tom? I swerved to avoid someone.
And I'm just not sure whether I hit them or not.
Morning, Mary.
No-one opened up yet, then? No.
So who's librarian on a Thursday? Gerald.
Not like him to be late.
(SIGHS) Not the end of the world, is it, just because the library's not open? It is, if Gerald's got anything to do with it.
He's the first to complain when other people are late for things.
Mm.
(HORN HONKS) Hi, love.
Hiya, Dad.
Talk to your father, will you? He won't listen to me.
Just been back to March Magna.
Searched the area.
But she's still convinced she could have hit someone? Yeah, she is.
There's no bloodstains on the road.
The only marks are the skid marks from her car.
No report of anyone injured or missing in the village.
Hey, guess what? Gerald's gone missing.
Eh? He hasn't turned up for his shift at the library.
Well, I expect he's sick, or something.
Gerald? He's sick, all right.
He likes 'em dead.
Liam, please.
Don't you dare talk about people like that.
Suppose your luck's in at the library now, then? Don't know what you mean.
The way you hang around there.
I would have thought you'd got better things to be doing.
(BARKING) Echo! Do you want a coffee, Dad? No, I've got no time.
I've lost a folder - green folder.
You took it upstairs.
What? I was telling Mum.
I've got the use of Simon's car while he's away, so she can borrow mine.
That's very kind of you, Cully.
(PHONE RINGS) Uh-oh.
What now? Barnaby.
I hit someone, Cully.
I know I did.
Mum, will you stop worrying about this? I can't.
But we checked the road last night, remember? We both climbed out of the car and we looked.
There was nothing.
There was no-one.
Whoever it was could have been injured.
Will you listen to me? They could have crawled away somewhere to die.
Oh, for goodness' sake! What do you think Dad's been doing? He's been asking around.
If anything bad had happened, he would have been told.
What is it? March Magna.
A body's been found.
Morning, sir.
Morning.
His name's Gerald Ebbs.
Who identified him? The person who found him - Mr Kent - he's over there.
(INDISTINCT POLICE RADIO) Morning, Tom.
George.
Well .
.
he would have died some time during the night.
First impressions suggest that he choked to death .
.
but, thenthere is this.
Hardly a penetrating wound.
Nevertheless, a blunt force injury.
It's weird, isn't it, the way he's lying there? Looks as if he's kissing and cuddling the grave itself.
Can he have ermtripped or fallen, somehow? Cracked his head against the stone work and then rolled over, face down? Possible? OrGeorge, I need to ask you this.
Could he have been involved in a road accident and then, somehow, made his way here toto die? Well, I can't tell you at the moment, butI suppose it could have happened, yes.
Hmm.
It's freshly turned, isn't it? This grave's been tended, recently.
Well, it's a bit of a forgotten place.
Those are the only flowers here.
Well, at least someone's kept it all tidy.
Johnny! Heard some police cars earlier.
What's going on? No idea.
Maybe if you got up at a respectable hour once in a while, you'd learn a thing or two.
I'll be back later.
I've just got the Watsons' garden to do.
Won't be long.
Got any work this week? No.
Nothing till Monday.
You shouldn't have to wait on him at this time of day.
I don't mind.
Well, I do.
If he can't get up in time for breakfast, like other paying guests, he should be made to go without.
We don't have any other guests, remember? Anyway .
.
he was working last night.
Huh! Call that work? (COUGHS) Him and his ghosts.
(SIREN FADES) If there's anything else you remember, anything at all - Yeah, well, that's all, really.
Mr Kent.
Thank you - thank you so much for notifying us.
I am Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby from Causton CID.
Mr Gerald Ebbs, did he have any family? There was his mother.
She died a few years ago.
Work colleagues? There's only Sarah.
It's a small library.
It caters for those oflimited tastes.
She and Gerald worked separate shifts.
Sarah's second name? Sharp.
She lives on Castle Street.
I guess I'd better let her know.
Someone has to open the library.
Can you tell us anything more about Gerald Ebbs? He wasn't liked by many people.
Was he not? Why? He was a clerk at the parish council.
Enjoyed making decisions, whether the village wanted them or not.
Did you like him? No.
He hated anyone interfering with his precious cemetery.
His cemetery? He managed to get a job here as caretaker.
He used to work here, on a voluntary basis.
You come here most days, do you, Mr Kent? Er - This cemetery, Mr Kent.
It's odd.
Everything's old.
There are no new graves here.
That's right.
Present-day burials and cremations take place at Causton.
It cause a lot of resentment.
Why's that? People who've lived here all their lives like to think they have the right to lie here when they're dead.
But all the people buried here, no-one's died of old age.
That's because most of them were patients.
Patients from where? The old hospital.
It had its own chapel.
The hospital's on the edge of the village.
The one with the long wall.
My wife could tell you more about it - we're both historians - she specialises in local history.
Was it a good ghost walk, last night? No, it was hard work.
People with no imagination are always hard work.
Difficult to scare.
I think it's wonderful, what you do.
Working with ghosts.
How many have you seen? Ermover the years? Quite a few.
Good ones or bad ones? Mostly good.
First, I thought there was one out and about, last night.
Where? In the cemetery.
A woman thought she saw something.
But there was nothing cos, if there was, I would have sensed it.
I don't know how you do it.
John doesn't believe in ghosts, then again, he doesn't believe in most things.
Except moaning.
I hope he believes in you, Alice .
.
because I certainly do.
Give me a shout if there's anything else you need.
Not good news.
Poor Gerald's dead.
His body was in the graveyard all night.
Oh, no.
There was one of those ghost walks last night, remember? What's that got to do with it? Maybe something frightened him to death while he was digging up a grave.
Jess? What's the best thing about necrophilia? Well? You never have to say you're sorry.
Sir! Hello, Mr Kent.
Hello, Sarah.
I erm I wonder if I might come in for a moment.
Yeah.
Anything wrong? Er, yes.
It's the library.
I'm afraid someone's going to have to open it up.
But it's Thursday.
Gerald does Thursdays.
It's the way he's always wanted it.
He's not doing a number, is he? Cos if he's being difficult - He's dead.
I found his body in the graveyard.
Oh, no.
But I don't understand, I mean, howhow did he die? I don't know.
I imagine that he fell.
Poor Gerald.
I mean, I know we had our differences, but this is Look, don't worry, Mr Kent.
I'll open up the library.
It's the least I can do.
I thought I'd better Yes.
(Yes.
) Just there, sir.
There.
Mrs Faith Kent? Yes.
Good morning.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.
Oh.
Well, please, come in.
Thank you.
It's about Gerald, is it? My husband told me the sad news, only he isn't here.
That's OK.
I can talk to you.
Ian's gone to the pub - said he needed a drink after what's happened.
Any excuse.
He also said thatGerald Ebbs wasn't liked by many people.
Ian said that? How dare he? What right has he got to say that about someone? So how did you get on with Gerald? I'd say I put up with him.
He was a bit of a fusspot, but I agreed with some of the things he believed in.
Like what? Looking after the cemetery.
Apart fromkeeping it tidy, did Gerald Ebbs have any other special interests in March Magna cemetery? None that I can think of.
Interest in one particular grave, perhaps? No.
(CHUCKLES) That is the hospital, isn't it? It was always known as the Saint Fidelis.
Saint Fidelis, eh? I'm doing a paper on it.
Your husband and you, do you work together? Ian? No.
Far too low-brow for him.
Talk about the Tudor Constitution or Renaissance English literature and you'll have a friend for life.
It was a forlorn-looking place, that.
Mm.
They came from all over the UK to be treated for tuberculosis.
And, I take it, they died? TB was incurable in those days, Mr Barnaby.
Hence the cemetery.
After you, sir.
Thank you.
Hello again, Mr Kent.
Mr and Mrs Bishop? Yes? I'm Detective Sergeant Jones.
This is Detective Constable Stephens, Causton CID.
I take it you were open last night.
Wouldn't be much of a pub, if we weren't.
Who was in? Just the locals.
Was Gerald Ebbs a local? No.
He never used to drink.
Perhaps he should have.
Might have livened him up.
So, apart from the locals, were there any strangers here? No.
There were some in the village, last night, on the ghost walk.
On the what? MR KENT: The Ghost walk.
Mr Bowmaker, our celebrated ghost guide up to his tricks again.
When I say tricks, I mean tricks.
The man's a fraud.
He makes it up as he goes along.
One more.
And he don't care how many lies he tells in the process.
Just because something bad happened in here, a long time ago, he makes out it's worse than it is.
He tries to make out the pub's haunted.
Which isn't exactly good for business.
So there are no bad vibes here, then? Of course not.
Do you see those beams? Years ago, a landlord hung himself from here, after he'd killed his wife and daughter with a meat cleaver.
Just a domestic tiff that got out of hand.
Does that make the place haunted? The poor man hasn't been dead five minutes and there you are, maligning him to strangers.
They were not just strangers, they were the police.
Was this before you went to the pub, or afterwards? Does it matter? Look, I am just as shocked by the death of Gerald as the rest of the village.
I found his body, remember? I shouldn't think anyone would be allowed to forget that.
The fact remains that he was a sad and annoying little nobody.
He was also lonely.
Do you wonder why? Have you finished with that? Yes.
God, you're such an old woman! (SLAMS DOOR) Good afternoon.
Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, Causton CID.
Is it about Gerald? Yes, it is.
Was it the weather that killed him, then? I'm sorry? What? Only it got quite cold, last night.
He wasn't the healthiest of individuals.
Sometimes, he'd spend the whole night in that cemetery.
He told you that, did he? He didn't tell me, I just knew.
People talked about it.
And your names are? I'm Adam Peach, and this is my daughter Jessie.
So when did you last see Gerald Ebbs? A few days ago.
He came in here to buy a small spray of flowers.
Did he say who they were for? No.
He didn't need to tell me.
He's bought flowers here before and he always takes them to the cemetery.
God knows why.
No-one else puts flowers on those graves.
All the people buried there have been dead and forgotten for years.
Anyway, I've got deliveries to do.
Dedicated worker.
Has to be, it's a family business.
Mr Peach, I am forever hearing that Gerald Ebbs annoyed a lot of people.
More than a few.
Anyone in particular? Well, him and Jeff were threatening each other last week.
All because Jeff's lot were leaving litter in the cemetery.
Who's Jeff? His full name's Jeffrey John Bowmaker.
Stephens ran a check on him.
He's obviously some kind of con artist, but there's no convictions under the name.
Here we are, sir.
Jones, there's something I think I should tell you.
Sir? It is just possible that our dead man was the victim of a car accident.
But surely I said just possible.
And, if that's so, it's also possible that the driver of the car that hit himwas Joyce Barnaby.
Yeah.
What are you up to? I have to contact the insurance company.
Leave that for now.
Why don't you let me take you out somewhere? Not today, thanks.
We could get a bit of lunch.
A spot of shopping? I have to be here, Cully.
I have to wait for your dad to get back to me.
Good news or bad, I need to know.
Hm.
We met up at 7:30.
Who's 'we'? Me and my customers.
Met at the usual place: March Lane, opposite the pub.
Here.
It's in my brochure.
Ta.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER) This is all we need: police questioning him on our premises, with all the world to see.
The police have been questioning a lot of people.
It's their job.
(COUGHS) All this is making me ill.
I want him out.
He pays his rent.
(COUGHS) I still want him out.
We need all the money we can get.
Your earnings don't exactly keep the wolf from the door, do they, John? So what time did you and your clients - customers - get to the cemetery? I'd say just before nine.
Did you see Gerald Ebbs there? No.
Mm.
One of them thought she saw something.
I looked, but I couldn't see anything.
What's the name of this customer? Absolutely no idea.
Never seen her before.
You see, they're not locals.
I put adverts out and people come in from other villages.
'A spine-chilling journey into terror.
' I do my best.
Only I don't think the spirits fancied coming out last night.
It was a bit nippy.
(CHUCKLES) (DOOR OPENS) Sorry.
I've been asked to leave the village.
Oh, no.
Why? Just kidding.
Oh.
I'm here to stay.
You've got me forever, Johnny.
(COUGHS) About time they bulldozed that monstrosity, isn't it? (CHUCKLES) Oh, how I despise everything Victorian.
The attitudes, the kitsch, the cloying sentimentality.
(CHUCKLES) Still, it wouldn't do for us all to appreciate the same things in life, would it? No, it wouldn't.
It's been a grim day.
I need cheering up.
Do you fancy going for a drink at the March Magna Inn? You call that being cheered up? I'm surprised you don't take up residence in that hell hole.
Got some news for you.
We found the murder weapon.
You found what? This was found in the undergrowth, some distance from the body.
It's a piece of edging - part of the grave where he was found - and, incidentally, where he was killed.
It matches the wound and there are traces of blood, and I'm sure they'll match as well.
You seem relieved, Tom.
Yes.
You look very smart.
I'm off to do some research, Alice.
For your work? Oh, yes.
It never stops.
Mm.
Mind you .
.
I'd rather be here alone with you.
Now, don't be silly.
Be good.
(COUGHING) I told Vic I'm not going out any more at night.
Not till they find who's done it.
Bowmaker said there could have been someone hanging around the cemetery.
Told Alice.
He'd say anything.
You should know that.
Anyway, police have questioned him.
All this is not going to do our old, historic village a lot of good, is it, Mr Kent? March Magna, historic? So they tell us.
Whoever 'they' are, they are wrong.
Over the centuries, this village has achieved precisely nothing of note.
Those poor, lost souls at the hospital are the only reason this place is on the map.
I'll do as much for my true love As any young man may I'll sit and mourn All on her grave Joyce? For a 12 month and a day Well? The body we are dealing with is that of a man who was murdered in March Magna.
Murdered.
Murdered? Now, listen, Joyce, his death had nothing - nothing whatsoever - to do with your accident.
Do you understand? (SIGHS) Thank God for that.
Let me get you a drink.
No thanks.
No? I still saw someone, Tom, before I crashed.
Yes, so you say.
And I am perfectly willing to believe you because that could very well have been the murderer.
(LAUGHS) (GIGGLES) Gerald's mail.
Mm.
Nice place.
So Gerald was murdered, then.
Yes.
Who could have done such a thing? Like me in this, do you? You look fantastic.
Well, I'm the boss now.
Boss in this place.
I've got to dress the part, don't I? Like that, do you? Do you like me being the boss? I see you've been nicking the best blooms again.
There's a jug in the wash room.
Go and put them in water.
Get a move on .
.
I've got a library to run.
Just bills and a couple of brochures for a dating agency.
Oh, dear.
Hm.
And there's all this.
He must have been a bit of an historian as well.
He's made a lot of notes.
On what? March Magna in the 1870s.
And Sutton-on-the-Hill, Derbyshire, same period.
A place mentioned on the gravestone.
March Magna as it was.
Mm.
And Sutton-on-the-Hill.
Same two places.
Same time period.
He seems to have a real fixation on that grave.
Could the dead girl have been a long lost relative? I have no idea.
Where's that? It says 'The old hospital.
' And back to the graves again.
Caroline Maria Roberts.
Stop there.
'Not dead but sleepeth.
' Here you are, Mum.
Just don't go driving into any more bushes.
Thank you.
I'm sorry to hear about the murder victim, Mum, but at least that means you can relax now.
You're not responsible for someone's death.
Mum? I'm sorry, Cully, I just can't forget it.
You have to.
No.
No, I saw someone.
(SHRIEKS) Nothing and nobody will ever make me change my mind.
What's that? Oh, it's just the March Magna ghost walk guide.
It's nonsense.
Just brought it to show you.
You know, there were people in March Magna that night, Mum.
Tourists.
Maybe that's what you saw.
A tour like this, it could help.
Maybe I could find out something.
Oh, no, you don't.
Don't even think about it.
Any coffee going? Miss Sarah Sharp? Yes.
Good morning to you.
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby, from Causton CID.
Oh.
Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? About what? Mr Gerald Ebbs.
No.
When did you last see Mr Ebbs? Ermmust have been Saturday morning, he passed by my house.
Was he alone? He was always alone, especially since his mother died.
When did you last have a conversation with Mr Ebbs? Oh, I gave up talking to him a long time ago.
Why? Because he liked to think he ran the village.
He wasn't even born here.
I was.
Where was he from? I think he and his mum moved here from Oxford when he was a child.
Did he travel much? Gerald? Hardly ever left the village.
Why are you asking me this? Well, it's all to do with the cemetery.
Gerald Ebbs seems to have had apeculiar interest in the occupant of one of the graves.
Did he ever say anything about having relatives up in Derbyshire? Not that I can remember.
Or an interest in genealogy, perhaps? Well, if he did, he never told me.
In fact, from what I hear, the only thing that seemed to interest him was that creepy graveyard.
OK.
Thank you very much.
(SQUEALS) It's all right, Alice.
It's me.
Oh! Oh, Jeff! How could you do such a thing? I'm sorry, Alice.
Oh, you frightened the life out of me.
It's just a bit of fun.
Fun? You call that fun? (LAUGHS) It ceased being a hospital in the late-1940s.
Yeah? And then what? A private school.
Then a visitors' centre, up until the late '80s.
After that, it became too difficult and too expensive to maintain.
So what are we looking for? Well, perhaps Joyce really did see someone.
The murderer? It's possible.
And, if she did, that someone - he or she - might be hiding somewhere in here.
Just like it was in the photographs.
Go and have a look upstairs.
See what you can see.
No-one here, sir, and no sign of anyone using it as a squat.
This must have been a busy community.
Full of hope.
Full of despair.
You can almost feel it, can't you? Not me, sir.
A place like this just gives me the creeps.
Oh, Mr Barnaby.
Is this an awkward moment? Yes.
I've got work to do.
I'm sorry.
Just a couple of minutes, please.
OK.
Thank you.
I've just been looking round the old hospital.
It's a fascinating place, isn't it? That's right, but it's long been regarded as an unlucky place.
Why? In the late-1800s, a young, female patient leapt to her death from the top of this staircase.
She wanted to end her suffering.
And a few serious accidents have been recorded since then.
Involving the same staircase? Yes.
Look, I really must go.
I want to catch the afternoon light.
Hang on.
In the In the wall, surrounding the hospital, I came across what seemed to be an old archway, that had been bricked up.
Yes.
It used to be an entrance.
Leading where? To the hospital.
The entrance was for members of staff - doctors and nurses in particular.
Why? Their accommodation was across the road.
They weren't allowed to be seen entering through the main gates.
Sorry, I don't understand.
There was a stigma attached to TB in Victorian times, Mr Barnaby.
So not only do the poor patients have the illness to worry about - They had to suffer the shame as well.
Right.
When was that archway bricked up? Just after the First World War.
What are you up to? I thought I'd try my hair a different way.
Why? Just felt like a change, that's why.
And make-up? I just told you, I'm trying something different.
Then you're wasting your time.
(COUGHS) Well, one thing's for sure.
You'll never change.
You'll always be a bitter, angry man.
(COUGHS) (DOOR CLOSES) Jones.
Sir, I've found out a couple of things.
There's nothing to suggest Gerald Ebbs was related to the girl in the cemetery.
Oh.
So what are you saying? That it was just a morbid fascination on his part? That he was fixated on a dead woman? Seems that way, yeah.
It's like a Well, it's almost like a one-way love affair.
And there's this.
A patient committed suicide by throwing herself from the staircase of the St Fidelis hospital.
Yeah, I knew about that.
Her name was Caroline Maria Roberts, the girl in the cemetery.
That cemetery's always been unlucky.
John was hoping to get the gardening contract there, when the old gardener died, but Gerald volunteered to do the job for free.
I mean, the parish council couldn't refuse that offer, could they? John must have been upset.
Upset? He was furious.
(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) What's a nice girl like you doing in a place - What do you want, Jeff? Tonight's ghost walk.
It's going to be here.
Yes, so I've heard.
I'm on a bit of a recce.
Make sure of a safe route.
Don't want some old biddy suing me if she falls through the floorboards.
Andthere's the historical side of it.
I thought you might be able to help.
I helped you once before.
Never again.
Oh, come on, Faith - No, it means I supply you with historical facts and you bend the truth to make a profit.
It's called poetic licence.
I've heard there's a strange aura .
.
right here, around this staircase.
This will be where I do my big number.
I've already explained to someone, this area's meant to be cursed, but there are no ghosts here.
That's OK.
I'll fill in the missing bits.
(LAUGHS) Hi, Dad.
Hi.
Have you seen that order for Marsh Farm? The roses? No, why? It's gone missing.
Hm.
Those blooms are expensive.
Yeah, I know.
Never mind, I'll make up the order with something else.
What about the wreath for Mum's grave? Oh, that's not a problem.
I put her favourites aside for that.
Only the best for her.
Will you be coming with me tomorrow, love? I can't, sorry, Dad.
You prefer to go and talk to her on your own, don't you? No, Jess, I don't.
So when are you going to get rid of him? Get rid of who? Your old man.
I'm sick of living in a B&B.
We could set up home together.
With your expertise and my showmanship, we'd make a great team.
You've got to stop kidding yourself, Jeff.
Faith by name, but not necessarily by nature, that's me.
You're nothing more than a diversion.
Been a few of those, have there? Oh, yes, and each time there's a risk.
Why? He lashes out.
Gerald's obsession with this particular grave, why would that get him killed, do you think? (Sir.
) (Ah.
) (Mr Bowmaker.
) Mr Bowmaker, what can we do for you, sir? Is the ghost walk still on tonight? Oh, yes, but, don't worry, it won't be taking place here.
I'll be scaring 'em silly at the old hospital.
Have you got permission to go in there? No.
That's part of the fun.
I'll be making sure no-one comes to any harm.
Have you got something to tell us? John Carver.
What about him? He wanted the job as gardener here, but Gerald beat him to it.
John's wife told me it almost destroyed him.
Thank you, Mr Bowmaker.
Find out what you can about this cemetery in the parish records.
Right.
Those flowers for Marsh Farm didn't turn up, then? Then again, I don't suppose they ever will.
So why are you looking at me? Because you bloody took them, Liam.
Don't be stupid.
And I bet I know what you did with them.
You gave them to that jumped-up cow in the library.
She's nobody.
I remember when she used to work in the Post Office shop.
So why would I want to give her flowers? Because you're obsessed with her, that's why.
You can't leave her alone.
You'd do just about anything for her, wouldn't you? So, tell me something .
.
would you kill for her? Good evening.
I was just on my way home from work and I thought I was just passing and I thought I might buy my wife some flowers.
Oh, they're beautiful.
Yes.
Sorry, they're not for sale.
A work of art.
Who are they for? My mum.
Oh.
Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that.
Well, when it's her birthday, Dad makes a special wreath for her, from us all, so we never forget her.
And when is her birthday? It's tomorrow.
She's buried in Causton.
Causton? That's a long way away, isn't it? How often do you manage to visit her? Not enough, I'm always busy.
Anyway, erm What flowers would you like? Liam? May I have a word, please? About what? Sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that conversation you had with your sister.
Sarah Sharp, eh? She's a remarkable girl, isn't she? She's actually made the library look welcoming.
She likes her job.
And, Liam, there were some magnificent flowers on display.
Liam, when did you last see Gerald Ebbs? I don't know.
Three days ago, something like that.
Did you speak to him, or talk to him at all? Why would I want to talk to that man? The man was a perv.
My son's not an easy person to talk to, Mr Barnaby.
He keeps a lot of things to himself.
Yeah, that's all right.
It can't be easy for a lad of any age to, you know, lose his mum.
Yeah.
I suppose it must be difficult for Liam, you know, having his mum buried so far away.
At his age, who knows what's on his mind? But it's more likely to be that young woman in the library, than his mother.
And I don't suppose it helps having ghost walks in the village here, with their promise of an afterlife.
No.
But no-one should ever believe what Jeff Bowmaker says.
Wouldn't you agree with that? I couldn't possibly comment on that.
All right, then Can he be done for fraud? Ah-hah, I don't think so.
I thought I saw a ghost, once.
A real one.
It was at night on the road by the old hospital.
It was only for a split second, but I could have swornit was a nurse.
Then again, it was probably a trick of the light.
Yes, you're probably right.
These things usually are.
Thank you.
(BIRDSONG) (DOOR CLOSES) Hello, Cully.
Flowers for Mum? I'll put them in a vase, or something.
Here.
(Thank you.
) The 12 month-and-a-day were up A voice spoke from the deep Oh, who is this sits on my grave And will not let me sleep? Please, Dad.
Not more of Mum's boring music.
Cos I deserve my own true love That weeps upon my grave The lyrics, Cully, to this song Until I have one kiss From your playful lips Quite strange, aren't they? They're a kind of warning.
Of what? What comfort will I have? Too much grieving will disturb the dead.
After the last couple of days, I'm inclined to agree.
Wreaths, flowers and memorial stones.
What do they do? They keep grief alive.
Where is your mum? No idea.
I let myself in.
I thought you might know.
No.
Wait a minute.
It's Friday.
What's special about Friday? It's gone.
What's gone? The brochure for the March Magna ghost walk.
(BEEPS) (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) Dad? Where's Liam? No idea, love.
Why? I haven't seen him since that policeman was here.
(DIALS) Jones? Sarah? There's a good boy.
(SIGHS) Jeffrey? Alice.
What are you doing, hiding in the shadows? I need to talk to you.
Oh, not now, sweetie.
I've got to rush.
What about us? Mm? Well, what happens now between us? Well, erm, could we Could we perhaps talk about this another time? But Right.
Time to go.
Open the door, then.
Any of you locals fancy joining tonight's (SPOOKILY) .
.
ghost walk? No thanks.
He thinks he's so funny.
You don't know what you're missing.
A large scotch and a smile please, Mary.
(If you can manage both.
) (COUGHS) I suppose you all know tonight's tour is through the old hospital.
I've also been making plans for the future.
I was thinking of holding the next JB ghost experience .
.
in this pub.
It's not haunted.
I know, but it is weird.
And my involvement could bring in much-needed business for you.
We don't need your help.
I could lead my customers through here, up the stairs, through the upstairs rooms .
.
and it won't matter if you're shagging Mary in bed.
(GASPS) That'll make it even more weird.
Right, that's it.
(CHUCKLES) Get out.
I've had enough.
Get out.
Get out! Go on! Good riddance.
You are barred for life.
Really? (COUGHS) Oh, and Johnny, you must do something about that cough .
.
like die.
(GASPS) (DISGRUNTLED MUTTERING) Jeff? Have you seen Ian? Yes, he's in the pub.
Wellbe careful.
He's been watching us.
What's that bastard done to you? Just ermbe careful, will you? (DOOR OPENS) (I have to go.
) We come to the end of Chain Walk.
It is haunted by the ghost of Lucy Law, who hung herself from this tree, mourning the loss of her lover who never returned from the Crimean War.
Her ghost can be seen on St Valentine's night.
Come on.
(CLINKING) It's about time someone livened up these ghost walks.
(SCRAPING) Liam? Sssh! I heard something.
Heard what? I don't know, footsteps.
(TUTS) Well, I didn't hear anything.
Come on.
The St Fidelis Hospital is an unlucky place, and well past its prime.
So, once inside, I would ask you all to stay close to me, for safety reasons .
.
and for whatever else may occur.
Oh, look.
Oh, that's perfect.
Hey, look.
(FOOTSTEPS) Oh, that'll do.
Oh, for goodness' sake, Liam.
Liam? Come back here.
Liam Oh, you little sod.
(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) JEFF: .
.
as they were dragged along.
Picture, if you will, this building in days gone by.
I had a look at the parish records, sir.
Makes interesting reading.
Hey, you two, have you arrested my brother? And why would we do that, Miss Peach? And here, rising above us .
.
is the staircase of the damned.
Follow me.
(SPLINTERING WOOD) Ooh! Careful.
Thank you.
Please, wait here.
Perhaps we can hear the rustle of long skirts and starched aprons.
The rattle of enamel cans and pans.
And the chink .
.
of medicine bottles.
And always .
.
the groans.
The sad cries.
And the telltale cough of the dying.
(MOANS) (SCREAMING) (MOANS) (THUD) (GRUNTS) (YELLS) (SCREAMS) (SCREAMING CONTINUES) Joyce.
I didn't mean for this to happen, I really didn't.
Give me that.
I didn't - Jones, get these people out of here.
OK, everyone, this way.
Follow me.
Liam? I can't get any sense out of Liam.
Where is he? He came home.
He's hiding.
He's around here somewhere.
Please don't frighten him any more than you have to.
He's scared enough already.
He's not the one we've come to see.
Adam Peach .
we've just been talking to your daughter.
And Jessica is very worried about her brother.
And we can understand her concerns very well .
.
because that young man witnessed a terrible event tonight.
He saw his father kill a man.
And that will be with him forever.
Is that your wife? She's beautiful.
Gerald Ebbs - he also had someone to mourn.
No, he had no-one.
There was no-one for him.
I agree, he was a sad, lonely man.
Yet, in a strange way, he found a way to deal with his loneliness.
He got himself a companion.
A girl who died 130 years ago.
And he also had the local cemetery to grieve in, all to himself.
He had no right.
He didn't belong in the village.
Yes, I understand, whereas your wife - She was born here.
Our family have lived in March Magna for generations.
And yet you had to travel all the way to Causton cemetery, halfway across the county, to visit her grave.
I know Causton cemetery.
A big, ugly, noisy place, right up against the ring way there.
Not a place to leave your loved ones, eh? Not fair, Mr Peach, is it? Not fair at all.
I mean, Gerald Ebbs' girl, she was a complete stranger to the village and yet you still tried to put things right, didn't you? and yet you still tried to put things right, didn't you? Mr Peach, three years ago, you made two applications to the parish council for your wife to be buried in March Magna.
On both occasions, you asked for a special concession because of your family's longstanding in the village.
On both occasions, someone managed to have your request turned down, by insisting there were no burial plots and the site was of historical importance.
And that someone was Gerald Ebbs.
The parish clerk.
He really put a stop to things for you, didn't he? And that, Mr Peach, that is why you killed him.
You must have been so hurt, so angry .
.
when you saw him kneeling there.
Kneeling in worship in that beautiful, peaceful place, while denying you the right to do the same thing.
(GRUNTS) (GASPS) I suppose you'd forgotten that there might be other people about that night.
That must have come as a bit of a shock to you.
.
.
but the spirits of long-dead patients have often been seen here.
(GASPS) I saw something.
Over there.
As a matter of fact, Jeff Bowmaker hadn't seen you at all, yet you couldn't be absolutely sure of that, could you? Especially not with a man of his character.
So Jeff Bowmaker had to die.
And the old hospital.
Ideal place.
And yet, this time, someone did see you.
Liam saw you.
(FLOORBOARDS CREAK) Your son saw you.
Oh, for goodness' sake, Liam.
(Liam.
) (Dad.
) Sssh! (APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS) .
.
in days gone by.
I suppose you might say that all that talk about the staircase being unlucky, all that was true.
And always .
.
the groans.
The sad cries.
And the telltale cough of the dying.
(MOANS) (SCREAMING) (Dad.
Dad) (Dad, stop.
Stop.
Please.
) (YELLS) (SCREAMING) (SCREAMS) Jessica.
Come in.
Come in, please.
Jessica .
.
I think your father has something to tell you.
Dad? I'm sorry I made such a fool of myself.
It won't happen again.
I just had to know That you were seeing things? It's a sad place, this, isn't it? Well, most graveyards are.
Yes, but this one in particular.
I mean, all the people here are no older than Cully.
Hm.
And each one, a stranger, one to the other.
Except for Caroline Maria Roberts.
Come on, love.
Home.
(TYRES SCREECH) Tom? What is it? Erit's nothing.
Let's go home.