Heartbeat (1992) s06e15 Episode Script

1
Heartbeat
Why do you miss when
my baby kisses me?
Heartbeat
Why does a love kiss
stay in my memory? ♪
Oh, thank you, sir.
- Was everything all right for you?
- Perfectly, thank you.
- Aidensfield? Is that near here?
- Next stop up the road.
- 15 minutes by car.
- Quiet sort of place, I imagine.
As the grave, sir.
For he knoweth
whereof we are made.
He remembereth
that we are but dust.
The days of man are but as grass.
He flourisheth as a
flower of the field.
As soon as the wind
goeth over it, it is gone.
And the place thereof,
shall know it no more.
We have entrusted our
brother, Thomas Jowett
to God's merciful keeping.
And he's oh so good
And he's oh so fine
And he's oh so healthy
In his body and his mind
He's a well respected
man about town
Doing the best things
so conservatively
And his mother goes to meetings
While his father pulls the maid
And she stirs the tea
with councillors
While discussing foreign trade ♪
A poor turnout.
Makes it even more distressing.
- Did you know him well?
- No, not really.
I've nursed him
for the past year.
He used to be quite
active in local affairs.
You wouldn't think it, would you.
He'd been a virtual
recluse in recent years.
Oh, why was that?
Oh, some personal
snub from way back.
You know what villages are like.
Are you all right, Maggie?
Yes.
Oh, you know,
just an accumulation of things.
These do's don't help.
SCREECH OF BRAKES
Maggie said he had a brain tumour
the size of a tennis ball.
Nothing could be done for him.
That's hard to come to terms with.
Maggie must have seen it all before,
but I've never seen her so upset.
Well, it sounds like
she needs a holiday.
Away from the sick and the lame.
Perhaps.
Oh, I um
I thought I'd ask Joyce Jowett
if she'd like to help me with
the flowers for the church.
She might appreciate
the company now.
Any suggestions for a place to stay?
In Aidensfield? No hotel as such.
- Try the pub across the road.
- Oh, right. Thanks.
I'm looking for a Jowett.
Do you know where I can find him?
He's just moved.
To the graveyard.
I did the removal.
You'll find his widow on Meadow
Bank Road, outskirts of the village.
Constable, can I have a word?
Come in.
Billy was the children's dog,
really, but you know how it is.
I ended up looking after him.
Anyway, it's upset us all.
Of course.
Thing is, it should
have been reported.
- That's the law, isn't it?
- Ya.
So what sort of person just leaves
a dog dead and says nothing?
Well, I'm sorry, Mrs. Mason.
It happens, I'm afraid.
Yes. Well, I don't think
that's all there is to it.
- How do you mean?
- I've had a letter.
Typed and everything,
everything that is except
the name on the bottom.
So, what's it say?
That we let Billy loose
in fields to worry sheep.
It says if we couldn't control the dog,
he should be put down.
And was your dog worrying sheep?
We tried to keep him in, but
the kids opening the gate.
It makes no direct threat.
None that you can see perhaps.
To me it says, "Keep and
eye on your dog, or else."
May I keep this?
Do you have any idea
who might have sent it?
Try Jim Riley.
He's the only farmer grazing
sheep at our end of the village.
- Miss Weston?
- Yes?
Nigel Wheeler. Your father might
have mentioned my name?
I'm not sure.
I've been advising him
on some money matters.
Oh, I'm sorry, yes,
he did say something.
He suggested I should call in if I
was ever in this neck of the woods.
- Well, please, come in.
- Thank you.
Black and white?
Yeah, collie.
Answers to the name of 'Billy'.
Not my name for it.
Aye, I've seen it.
Been running some
of my ewes ragged.
The dog's been run over.
Good riddance.
The owners received
this anonymous letter,
telling them to keep
their dog under control.
- Oh, aye?
- It didn't come from you?
Me? No!
Or Mrs. Riley?
Course not.
The owners think whoever
wrote the letter
ran over the dog intentionally.
What are you saying?
Listen. If I'd known who owned that dog,
I'd have gone round and strangled it.
Now, I'm going to dip these sheep.
If I were you, I'd get on my bike
before I get myself all mucked up.
Where are you based?
Leeds, but I travel all over.
Bringing the word to the natives.
I don't preach and I don't judge.
If people feel happier with their
money under the mattress,
I don't want to argue.
However, with no risks at all,
there are ways of making
your nest egg grow.
I'm sure my father is
aware of most of them.
He is now.
An astute man.
I'm afraid I spend what I get.
Oh, I'm not here to sell
you a savings scheme.
Social call.
- Hello.
- Hi.
- Nick, this is Nigel Wheeler.
- Constable.
Nick Rowan. I'm not
on official business.
Nigel's a financial
adviser from Leeds.
Dad said he should call
in if he's in the area.
You come up with the
premium bonds, then?
Fat chance.
I'm not on duty either.
Just a social call.
- Is that your car?
- Yes.
You've got some damage
to the front bumper.
Have I?
Parking prank, probably.
There's some traces of blood.
Really?
It's probably just a pheasant.
We've had a report of a
dog run over this morning.
Yes, well, I think I'd
know if I'd hit a dog.
Yeah, yeah, probably so.
Anyway, thanks for coffee, Jo.
Nice to meet you both.
See you around.
Talk about topping up that
police pension, perhaps?
- Bye now.
- Bye, Nigel.
Don't you ever knock off?
I only asked a question.
Do you always have to
interrogate visitors like that?
I didn't think you'd invited him.
Well, my father had,
which I suppose you think
is reason enough to give
him the third degree!
Phone, Uncle George.
I'm out.
But it could be the Queen!
I'm still out!
SPORTS COMMENTARY
Any sign of Rowan yet?
No, sarge.
What's that?
Desk, sarge?
Radio, sarge.
From the found property locker.
I know where it's from, Bellamy.
I was just putting new
batteries in it, sarge.
I'll put new batteries
into you in a minute!
Suppose the owner came in now
and found you dickering with it.
- Now, just put it back!
- Yes, sarge.
And don't use anything from the
found property locker again!
Watch yourself.
The moon's in the wrong quarter.
Blaketon's in a filthy mood again.
- Is that you Rowan?
- Yes, sarge.
Jim Riley's been on the phone.
He says you're accusing him of writing
threatening letters and executing pets.
I was following up
a complaint, sarge.
Well, now I am.
Have you got the letter?
Did you know your barometer
was in there, sarge.
From your office.
Put it back, shall I?
- Where is he?
- He's in here.
What on Earth were
you doing, George?
I dropped the axe.
Temper. That's what caused it.
Don't talk stupid.
Temper?
What's the problem?
There isn't one, only in his mind.
Haven't you got pumps to polish?
He's had an anonymous letter.
It won't go any
further than Maggie.
What did it say?
Him allowing after-hours drinking.
It's probably from some
temperance nutcase.
It's my licence at stake,
so don't go poo-pooing it.
If a magistrate gets to hear,
that's my card marked.
- Was it a threatening letter?
- Not really.
Well, if it's no threat, why write and
tell me something I already know?
You should show this to Nick Rowan.
Give myself up?
Come on, George.
Don't think this will be news to him.
- Maybe not.
- You think it's really serious?
Yes, I do.
Admit your bad timekeeping
and get Nick onto it.
This sort of blackmail needs
stopping before it takes a hold.
Mrs. Jowett?
- Yes?
- Nigel Wheeler.
What an amazing place.
- Am I interrupting?
- No, I'm only weeding.
Looks amazingly weed-free to me.
It'll soon get out of hand.
You don't have any help?
Not now.
My husband's died recently.
Oh, I see. I'm sorry.
Perhaps that's why Miss Weston
thought I should pay you a visit?
Miss Weston?
The teacher at the junior school.
I'm not as well acquainted with
local people as you might imagine.
How can I help you, Mr. Wheeler?
It's more a case
of me helping you.
But now that you've told me
of your recent bereavement,
this may not be the time.
Time for what?
I'm a financial adviser, Mrs. Jowett.
Ah.
And I understand completely
if you'd rather wait
before doing anything
about your future needs.
My husband worked for
a bank, Mr. Wheeler.
So, naturally, I left
money matters to him.
Of course. But now you have
your own decisions to make.
If I can help you as I have
Miss Weston and her father,
I'd be more than happy to oblige.
Unusual name.
I suppose it is.
Politics was my husband's passion.
Let me explain your financial
options to you now, Mrs. Jowett.
It'll only take five minutes.
I'm not admitting
anything, mind you.
Once or twice, I might have absent-
mindedly pulled a pint after time,
but nobody's perfect.
But from now on you will be.
- Hey?
- Yeah.
Yes.
Any idea who wrote it?
Perhaps the blackmail
note's to follow?
Thanks, Nick.
He's in such a lather what with
the letter and this fellow Wheeler.
- Who? Nigel Wheeler?
- Yeah, he's staying at the pub.
He's got me Uncle George interested
in some money making scheme.
- Do you think he's all right?
- Well, that's not for me to say, Gina.
That's for George to decide.
Yeah, I suppose so.
I just don't want him
rushed into anything.
It seems that the writer just wants
people to know they're being watched.
Doing your job, in other words.
A little creepy though.
Talking of which, I hear your friend
Wheeler's got his claws into George.
Just because he comes with my
dad's seal of approval, Nick.
- He dresses as nice as he smells.
- Miaow! Who's got claws now?!
Hello, Maggie.
Hello.
Have you got a minute, Nick?
Yeah, sure.
So, what's the problem?
I've made calls on two patients
with similar stories
involving anonymous letters.
Oh, that.
In both cases, it's caused upset,
and probably injury.
Hang on, Maggie. If you saw the letters,
you'd know there's not much to them.
Yes, but there is to
those who get them.
Well, I appreciate that.
- So, what are you doing about it?
- What am I doing?
Yes!
Well, whoever wrote them
isn't threatening anything
or demanding money.
So there's no crime, you mean?
Not that I can see, no.
That's nonsense, Nick.
I mean, the threat's clear enough.
"I know something about
you and I'm going to use it."
"Not now, perhaps, but someday."
Maggie.
For someone to hold that
over you, that's the crime!
You've had one.
It happened a long time ago.
Something I thought I'd pushed
to the back of my mind.
Well, if you don't tell me
what it is, I can't help you.
When I was training to be a nurse
I had an affair with
a married man
got pregnant.
He was the ambitious type.
He's a public figure now.
He paid for an abortion.
It was illegal, of course, but
that was no obstacle
to those who have money.
And if this came out?
I couldn't face it.
Have you got the letter?
So who knew?
Just
me
him and the doctor.
The man's wife?
Not that I know of.
He isn't named in the letter.
No. But there's enough to show
that the writer knows who he is.
There's still no direct threat.
Oh, for heaven's sake, Nick.
This is the third letter.
How many more do you need
before it becomes a police matter?
Do you want to tell
me the man's name?
No.
It can't be anything to do with him.
If he's a public figure,
he'll have enemies.
I thought that was a possibility until
I heard about the other two letters.
This isn't an outsider, Nick.
This is someone here in the village.
Now then, George.
What's all this I hear about you
trimming your toenails with a chopper?
What do you want?
Well, concerned customer
come to take the
come to see how
you're getting on!
Oh, aye?
- How's it feel? Painful?
- Not for you to worry about.
I'll be back behind
that bar in no time.
Not before we get used to
these full measures, I hope!
What are you reading?
- Wheeler left them for me.
- Wheeler?
The fella we've got staying here.
What, him with the blue convertible
and stinks of perfume?
- Aftershave.
- Same difference, ain't it.
Seems to knows his stuff.
"Investment without risk"?
"Double your money in a year"?
Laid up like this,
a bloke starts thinking, Claude.
Ah. Or not, as the case may be.
There's only one safe way to
double your money, George.
That's to take your
notes out your pocket,
fold 'em over and
bung 'em back in again!
You'll get your money.
I know what I said, but
Listen. You're already sharking me for
10% over the odds, so you can't lose.
Look, get off my back.
You'll get your money.
- Just the man.
- What's up?
Think back, Claude.
About eight years go, to be exact.
- You gave me a Cup Final ticket.
- Did I? What about it?
Why?
Eight years?
I can't remember what
happened this morning.
Well, try.
I don't know.
I probably didn't
want to use it myself.
So where did you get
this Cup Final ticket from?
- I used to get one every year.
- What for?
- What's all this about?
- What for?
Well, I used to do some deliveries
for a bloke, you know, cash only.
Cash only?
The bloke who owned the firm,
he had two sets of books.
One for the inland revenue
and a proper one.
What, you're looking
for another ticket?
- No.
- What's all the fuss about?
I've had a unsigned letter,
accusing me of obtaining a cup
final ticket from a dubious source.
- Did you tell anyone about it?
- Course I didn't!
I mean, if you remember
rightly, officer,
the reason you have a ticket
in the first place was because
you've been a bit understanding about
a slightly overdue tax disc on my lorry.
You done me one, so I did you one.
I've been waiting for you.
Can I have a word?
Said I'd be back, didn't I?
Did you find what you
wanted in Aidensfield, sir?
Yeah, but I prefer it
much better here.
There's only one thing
you can do, Alf.
And it was going spare?
Well, I think that's what he said.
It was eight years.
Hard to remember.
- Well, somebody hasn't.
- Yes, sarge.
And there was no, "You scratch my
back, I'll scratch yours" about it?
You know me, sarge.
Is that a 'yes' or a 'no'?
My memory's playing tricks.
As far as I remember, there's
something about an old tax disc.
Go on.
Oh, Greengrass said he's
got a new one at home
and I gave him the
benefit of the doubt.
Knowing he'd go straight to
the Post Office and buy one?
Yes, sarge.
Anything else playing tricks
with your memory, Ventress?
I don't think so, sarge.
You're a fool, aren't you?
Yes, sarge.
Well, if this letter writer
chooses to make mischief
who knows.
What have you got so far, Rowan?
Well, next to nothing, sarge.
There doesn't seemed to be any link
between those who have had letters
to suggest a common enemy.
And typewriters?
All four letters appear to have
been typed on the same machine.
The four you know about.
Well, unless there's a
sudden outbreak of honesty,
we'll never know if
there are any more.
It's a delicate business, this,
but I want you to pursue it.
You're looking for a nosy local
with a grudge against
the world in general
and the police in particular.
- You can start with Greengrass.
- What, as a suspect?
Not this time.
But his ragbag of a mind
is full of tittle-tattle.
Something useful might drop out.
On your bikes.
What's all this? Mob handed?
Must be summat serious.
We're hoping you can solve
a little mystery, Claude.
There's only one mystery I've
never been able to solve.
That is, why, when
there's summat's up,
you always seemed
to come straight here.
What's all this then, Claude?
What does it look like?
- Office furniture.
- Well done, Sherlock.
And before you asked,
I've got all the receipts.
I never said a word, Claude.
There's a bloke who will take all
this stuff off me he can get.
I think he ships it to underdeveloped
countries like Lancashire.
Mind you, I usually nick all
the best stuff for myself.
New typewriter, Claude?
Ah. How did I ever
manage without it?
I mean, a businessman
without a typewriter
it's a bit like a copper without
a suspicious mind, ain't it!
It's not natural.
Didn't know you could type.
Only with one finger.
Mind, I don't use the
same one every time.
Are you going to tell me
what you've come for or not?
Well, funnily enough,
we're looking for a typewriter.
It's being used to
send malicious letters.
Oh I see. And as usual,
it's down to me, is it?
I never said it was you.
I'm surprised. I mean I've got
no time to type malicious letters,
let alone the inclination.
Just for the record,
we better eliminate this
machine from our inquiries.
Well, if that's all you've come for,
you better have a
look at this lot, too.
I hope I haven't
call at a bad time.
I wasn't doing anything
that can't wait.
It's just that when I saw
you at the church
I wondered if you'd care to give
me a hand with the flowers?
If you had the time.
Well, uh
There's no need to give answer now.
Think about it.
I will, thank you.
Thomas wasn't very churchy,
but I used to be a regular.
Is this Mr. Jowett?
Yes.
I gather he was interested
in local politics.
Oh, he gave all that up years ago.
Why was that?
Disillusionment, I suppose.
He voted for the quiet life,
and I wasn't going to argue.
Will you find things
a little too quiet now?
Possibly so.
Oh, I had another surprise caller,
gentleman called Nigel Wheeler.
A financial adviser.
Yes, I've heard his name mentioned.
He was recommended to come
and see me by Miss Weston
though I don't think
I've ever haven't met her.
Oh?
I've got a lump sum of money
and he suggests I buy an annuity.
I don't suppose you know anything
about that sort of thing, do you?
Nothing at all, I'm afraid.
I suppose that's why we need
the Nigel Wheelers of this world.
Well, thanks for holding the fort.
Any problems?
No, good as gold, eh, Katie?
I've been onto the criminal records
office about your friend Wheeler.
You're determined to paint
him black, aren't you.
He used your name to introduce
himself to Mrs. Jowett.
He's pushy Nick, that's all.
He's a go-getter.
It's what he 'goes getting'
that worries me.
Oh, what did the
records office say?
Well, they've got nothing
under 'Wheeler'.
Oh, there you are, then.
Who's to say that's his name?
Oh, come on, what
more do you want?
- A trip to his office in Leeds.
- Why?
When I spoke to on the phone,
they sounded kosher enough,
but I won't be convinced
till I've been there myself.
Alright, Phil?
No, I've got typist's elbow.
Hello, Phil.
Hello, Jo.
Hey, get in there, you.
I'm serious, you know, about Leeds.
You know where to find me.
Excuse me?
It can't be.
Can't be what?
Greengrass's typewriters.
It looks like the same machine
that typed the poisoned-pen letters.
CAR HORN BEEPS
Okay. Thanks very much.
- Is she all right?
- Well, she's badly shaken up.
They're keeping her
in for observation.
Do you know what happened?
Well, she ran into
a van, apparently.
Lucky, by the sound of it.
Poor Maggie.
I'll go and see her.
Get her some flowers from us all.
And go easy on the questions, eh?
I've got to see a man
about a typewriter.
You're cocking your leg
up the wrong tree.
I mean, whoever
typed them letters
they were using phrases
I never knew existed.
How do you know?
Because I've had
one myself, haven't I.
- So, where is it?
- Why?
I want to see it.
You can't.
This is serious, Claude.
All right. But it's
for your eyes only.
Phil.
Here and don't laugh.
In broad daylight?!
I didn't know the van was
gonna drive off, did I.
So where did you get
the typewriter from?
Well, I got them from
an auction, didn't I.
I mean, the lot, you know.
I mean, as far as I know,
most of them came from that
Ashfordly Secretarial School.
Yeah, all right.
Phil.
- Which one is it?
- Which one?
The guilty machine. Which one?
I've no idea.
(SNIGGERING)
You'll be stopping for supper!
Who'll be the next in line?
Who'll be the next
in line for heartaches?
Who'll make the same
mistakes I made over you?
Who'll be the next in line?
Who'll be the next in line?
For you
Who'll be the next in line?
Who'll be the next to
watch your love fade?
All your affections
finally fade away ♪
I'll make sure he gets it.
Thank you. Bye.
Fire and Safety?
No. We're looking
for Nigel Wheeler.
He doesn't see people here.
I'm just a telephone
answering service.
So you provide the same
service for other companies?
Yes. I told them not to
give people the address.
There's been two men
looking for him as well.
Really?
I told them, "I don't know
where he is", which I don't.
They said they'd be back.
Scared me, to be honest.
It doesn't actually prove anything.
No, not a thing.
If you're still happy for your father
to sign checks with this fellow.
Okay. We'd better go and see him.
I'm still not sure.
Tell me again what it
is that's worrying you.
Well, it's not one thing.
I'm just not sure, you know.
Surrender the policy now,
and you release the money for
the scheme that we've discussed.
If I let the policy mature
You'll miss your chance.
In money matters, timing is all.
Seize this opportunity and I
guarantee you'll have no regrets.
Uncle George.
Can you give us a hand?
Yes, coming.
We'll do this another time.
- Jo?
- Hello, Dad.
Nick! What are you doing here?
We're just on our
way back from Leeds.
Well, you couldn't have
come at a worst time.
I'm just leaving for a meeting.
Is it important?
It could be.
We were in Leeds looking
for Nigel Wheeler's office.
His office? Why?
Nick doesn't think Wheeler's
what he makes out to be.
- Oh?
- So we went to check.
We think you should
be very cautious, dad.
- We?
- Nick and me.
You discussed my private
affairs with Nick?
Only as regards Wheeler.
Something of a financial
expert are you, young man?
No, no. Of course not.
No, I rather thought not.
Perhaps you should stick to what you
know and allow me to do likewise.
Nick's only trying to help, Dad.
Oh, I see.
Quick to leap to his defence
but happy enough to make
a fool of me, is that it?
You know it isn't.
We made very general
enquiries, Mr. Weston.
Well, general or particular,
I take a dim view of anyone
interfering in private family matters.
Well, that wasn't my intention.
As for Nigel Wheeler,
I believe keen professionals like
him should be encouraged,
not disparaged.
If that's your opinion, Mr. Weston.
It is. Now, if you'll
excuse me, I have to go.
You probably think it's
none of my business.
If Nigel Wheeler used my name
as a reference, then it is in a way.
But if you didn't suggest it,
why did he take it
into his head to come?
PC Rowan thinks he saw
your husband's obituary.
Oh.
I gather it's a common tactic.
He thought I'd be vulnerable.
Well, yes, I was.
I am.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to interfere.
No, no, no. You were right.
All I'm saying is be careful.
Ask your solicitor to look at what
he's selling before you do anything.
Such a charming man.
He reminded me a little
of Thomas, years ago.
- And you believe Greengrass?
- Yes, sarge.
Because he had a letter himself?
An obvious way of
avoiding suspicion, surely.
What was the
substance of his letter?
Well, I'm sorry, sarge.
I can't tell you.
What?
Greengrass wouldn't show me, sarge.
This is a police
investigation, Rowan.
I know, but I gave him my word.
I'm sure he has nothing
to do with these letters.
Well, not knowing any of the details,
I'm in no position to judge.
Well, he bought these
typewriters at Ashfordly auction.
- I'm hoping they can help.
- You best get on with it, then.
And in future, remember, Rowan.
Your duty to share information
with fellow officers,
comes before any other obligation.
Yes, sarge.
Oh, one thing, sarge.
What's that?
You didn't by any chance,
happen to get a letter yourself?
If I had, I'm sure you would
have heard about it by now.
That's what I thought, sarge.
I can tell you who the buyer was,
but not necessarily the seller.
Why is that?
Well, sometimes, they
don't like to broadcast it.
Right. Typewriter, batch of them.
Ah, Claude Greengrass.
He bought a lot of other stuff too.
I'm only interested
in the typewriters.
He bought 21 of them in two lots.
20 assorted typewriters from the
Ashfordly Secretarial School.
And an Imperial, on its own.
- This one?
- Uh, yes.
Do you have the seller's name?
There. Any use to you?
Yeah. Thank you.
KNOCK AT DOOR
Yes?
Wheeler Financial Services?
Not here any more.
If you're after money,
join the queue.
He hasn't paid me for weeks.
And now I've got people threatening
me because he hasn't paid them.
I told him when he rang,
'I'm finished.'
Checking up on me again?
Sorry?
Her solicitor's on the case now,
so you can relax.
I'm gonna report you for
messing about in my business.
Constable?!
Mrs. Jowett. Can I have a word?
Yes, of course.
I was just showing Mr. Gibson out.
Well, it might be a
good idea if he stays.
Oh.
Some motor you've got here.
Yeah. Looks good
on the forecourt, eh!
Fine-looking thing.
Tell you what.
650 and it's yours.
You're kidding me.
- Think you've got a market for it?
- I might have.
I couldn't raise the
cash straightaway.
Alright then, 600.
It's worth nine, easy.
It's still a lot of money.
Oh, forget it.
I'm sorry, I can't take this in.
Are you accusing me of sending
anonymous letters to people?
All I'm saying is that
the letters were typed
on a machine that you
recently sold at auction.
But I haven't used it for years.
It was Thomas's typewriter really.
What about the person
who bought it, constable?
Well, he's already been eliminated.
When did your husband
last use the typewriter?
It must have been
two years or more.
He hasn't had the will to do
anything for the past year.
Mr. Gibson can testify to that.
Did your husband hold
a grudge against anyone?
There were people he
disapproved of, certainly.
But a grudge.
Well?
Thomas felt badly let down
when he was running for re-election
as leader of the council.
He never rose above deputy
manager at the bank, constable,
but he dreamed of going
all the way in politics.
I believe he would have
made Parliament eventually.
So what happened?
He was found guilty of
exceeding the amount
allowed for his election expenses.
He forgot the cost of
his postage - £15!
For that, he was
disqualified from office.
Well, who did he blame?
The voters, finally.
He worked hard for them,
and after that one slip-up,
they turned their backs on him.
Shunned him like a criminal,
that's how he saw it, anyway.
And did he write them letters
about their slip-ups?
He sometimes get angry and write
a letter just to get it off his chest.
But he never sent them.
- How do you know?
- I wouldn't let him.
He'd write a letter and put the
envelope on the mantlepiece and
after a day or two,
when he calmed down,
and put it in the
drawer with the others.
- Have you still got them?
- Yes.
I couldn't face clearing
out his desk yet.
- Mrs. Jowett.
- They're in here somewhere.
I'm sorry, you won't
find them there.
Why not?
When I came to see
Thomas for the last time,
he told me where they were.
Whatever for?
He instructed me to take them
and post them after his death.
Oh, no. You knew he was ill.
I had no idea what was in them.
I thought they were
probably letters of thanks.
No. Please, no.
I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jowett.
So sorry.
Jowett must have picked up
most of the details through
his job by observation.
But how did he know about you?
The man I was having the affair
with was his political opponent.
The one who lobbied hardest
to get him disqualified
as leader of the council.
Oh.
Thomas Jowett must
have known about us.
And I suppose with
his job at the bank
he'd have known
about our finances.
He would have seen the
cheque being paid in.
And then later, when I wrote another
one for the same amount
to pay for the abortion.
It must have been pretty
evident what was going on.
Well, you must be relieved.
I suppose so.
Sad as well.
I thought I'd come to terms
with what had happened.
Yeah, well.
It was the right thing
to do at the time.
And later, when I didn't
have children
How's Joyce Jowett taking it?
Well, she's very upset.
He died a bitter man.
There's not much
she can do about that.
Mr. Mitchell.
Good of you to see me
at such short notice.
Not at all. Take a seat.
Thank you.
Now, how can I help you?
It's a matter of money, Mr. Sims.
Naturally. You have
a property in mind?
Number nine, Park View Road.
Nine I see.
Very amusing!
I'm sorry, Mr. Mitchell,
my property's not on the market.
No, but your wife is.
What the hell are
you talking about?
- Your wife is safe.
- Safe?
And she'll stay safe
as long as you do everything I say.
What's going on?
Where is she?
She's at home
with a couple of colleagues
of mine to keep her company.
Do you understand?
What do you want?
Three thousand pounds.
Three thousand pounds?
She's worth that, surely?
How do I know you've got her?
You want to take the risk?
Phone her.
Dead?
Only the phone, Mr. Sims.
Now
I need you to go out there
put the money in this case,
come back in here
sit quietly for 20 minutes.
And no-one need get hurt.
Police.
- Hello, Nick.
- Mr. Weston.
I'm on my way to see Jo.
- Well, come in.
- No, no, you must be busy.
I just wanted to say
you were right
about Nigel Wheeler.
Oh.
A golfing acquaintance
referred him to me,
and I rather let my guard down.
Yeah, well.
I'm not often fooled as easily.
Appearances are deceptive, hey?
Part of your training, I expect?
Anyway
thank you.
I stopped my cheque,
so no harm done.
PHONE RINGS
- Well, I'm glad you called by.
Sounds like trouble.
I'll let you get on.
See you soon, perhaps?
Yeah.
Anything?
I've only just got here.
It's all very quiet.
The phone wire's
been cut just there.
Alright, Mr. Sims,
let's have a look.
Linda?
Linda?
Mr. Sims?
Linda?
Linda!
Maurice?!
What are you doing here?
Tall, dark hair, fortyish,
tweed jacket, grey
trousers and glasses.
Yeah. Ordinary-looking, really.
Respectable.
Just another customer.
Is there anything else
you remember about him?
The way he spoke or acted?
No, nothing else.
Oh, other than
It was when I tried
to phone Linda.
He reached across and
took the phone off me.
I know it sounds daft,
but he smelled, of perfume.
Like a woman.
Time for a word, Mr. Wheeler?
Who's got the love
Who's got the love
to keep a man like me
Oh oh oh
When I'm dead and gone
I'm gonna leave some
happy woman living on
Oh oh oh
When I'm dead and gone
Don't want nobody to mourn
Beside my grave
Where is he, then?
In the Interview Room with Alf.
What's his story?
Well, he says he got in
too deep with loan sharks.
Scared stiff he's gonna lose
some part of his anatomy.
Well, he'll be safe enough
where he's going.
And it's useful to get this letter
business off our plates as well.
Yes, sarge.
Means that people can rest easier
knowing their misdemeanours
have gone to the grave.
Well, only the ones I'm able to tell.
His solicitor sent two dozen in all.
Two dozen?
Well, there's nothing
we can do about that.
No, sarge.
You didn't get one yourself, then?
No, sarge.
Just wondered.
Oh oh oh
When I'm dead and gone
Don't want nobody to
mourn beside my grave
Heartbeat
Why do you miss when
my baby kisses me?
Heartbeat
Why does a love kiss
.stay in my memory? ♪