Episode 4 Vexed

OK, one minute left.

One minute to put up the greatest dish of your life.

If it's not perfect, you've wasted your time...

and mine.

OK, plating up time, make it count.

Michael, let's see if you've done these prawns justice.

Prawn linguine.

-What are you watching?

-Shh!

-Come on!

What you've done with those prawns is a disgrace.

It's a disgrace to you, it's a disgrace to your family,

it's a disgrace to everybody you've ever met.

This is what you've been doing?

I've been slaving away and you two have been watching a cookery programme on the gourmet channel.

Hey. This isn't any old cookery programme.

This is Kitchen Maestro with Robert Randall.

Alison, let's see if your sea-bass died in vain.

I didn't even know he was still cooking.

Yeah, he's staging a comeback. He's opening a new restaurant next month.

Building up publicity by appointing an unknown amateur as his new sous chef.

-And this is the audition?

-Mm-hm.

Each episode, they cook a dish - worst one gets eliminated.

Last man or woman left standing gets a new job in his restaurant.

-Who's the scary lady?

-Oh, that's his second in command.

-She's been around for ever.

-Yeah.

It's not slapping me round the cheeks

and putting its tongue down my throat, like Alison's sea-bass.

Compared to that sea-bass, this dish is a cross-eyed homeless boy...

As much of a tool now as when he was famous, I see.

Right, I need you to sign off on our last case report -

which I wrote, again.

And I appreciate it. Again. But you really do need to get out more.

-I get out plenty.

-Yeah!

-I do!

-TV:

-'One of you is going home.

-'Alison's the winner hands-down.'

-Thank you very much.

Head and shoulders above the rest. Michael, you're going home.

Can you sign the report please?!

'You've got the rest of your career and the rest of your life...'

-Have I offended you in some way?

-I have a social life.

Look, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm genuinely concerned about you.

All you do is work, work, work.

Yeah, well, I don't need your pity.

I'm fine. As a matter of fact, I'm going to a party tonight.

And I'm going to be back late.

-Hey, enjoy yourself!

-Very late.

-PHONE RINGS

-Hello?

-Hey. How was the party?

-It was good, thanks.

Yeah? Couldn't have been that good, you answered after the first ring.

Well, it's a murder. That's what I do when there's been a murder.

How did you know it was murder before you answered the phone?

Busted!

Hey, Naz.

Hey. Victim's mid-20s, was found hanging from there.

Hey... Isn't this the girl who came top of the cooking contest?

-Alison Clarke?

-Oh, yeah, poor thing.

Yeah. It's the pretty ones that will really get to you.

-We also found this.

-Ooh! "Over-done".

Short and sweet eh?

-Plus...

-Jesus Christ, Naz! What are you doing?

It's only tomato sauce,

-so you can actually taste it.

-Yeah?

I say tomato sauce but it's more of a homemade passata.

Mmmm, good one, too.

-That IS good.

-Yeah, it's the oregano.

Oregano! That's what I'm tasting.

-Why are people so afraid of oregano?

-I dunno.

-Anyway...

It looks like she had a blow to the back of the head -

that actually killed her, then she was placed like that after.

Who called it in?

Oh, her husband. He came back early from a business trip. He's next door.

Mr Clarke?

-Yeah.

-I'm, er, DI Dixon, this is...

DI Armstrong.

I know this is a very difficult time,

um, we'd just like to ask you

a few questions about your wife... if that's all right.

So you came home early from a business trip, is that right?

She texted saying that she had done well in the competition.

I just wanted to come home and hug her and tell her how proud I was.

The food at the hotel was awful.

I missed Ali's spaghetti a vongole.

She loved to feed me.

HE SOBS Clearly.

Um, can you think of anyone who may have wanted to hurt Alison?

No. She was an angel.

My little lamb.

Oh, God...

Her lamb with candied chestnuts! I'll never eat it again!

HE SOBS

OK, where were we?

Well, Alison Clarke had no money worries, no shady past.

The only thing I could find was her cooking blog - "Ready Or Gnocchi".

Oh, God, I hate blogs.

Why does every man, woman and child need to broadcast

their half-arsed boring opinions to the whole world?

Hey, remind me to tweet about this later.

It's not surprising she was the front runner in the competition.

-Judging from these blogs she was a hell of a chef.

-You think it's about cooking?

Robert Randall may be a has-been celebrity chef,

but he's still a celebrity chef.

And this is a hell of a prize for an amateur to win.

Maybe somebody just didn't want Alison in the competition.

-Hello...!

-Look, can we just focus on the case, for one minute...

-Hold this, will you?

-OK.

-Do your belt up.

OK, there are eight people left in the competition.

-We need to check them out...

-Watch this. A little trick a friend of mine taught me.

What? What! Argh!

Great.

I am so sorry, DI Armstrong, police. What's your name?

Beth. Call me Beth.

OK, Beth, well, look, I am so sorry.

Sometimes I get so wrapped up, you know,

taking the bad guys off the streets...

We've been involved in a stakeout,

and sometimes innocent, attractive people like yourself get caught in the middle.

Let me give you my number...

For the insurance. Yeah?

Let me give you mine...

Screw the insurance.

-Call me yourself.

-OK.

-I'll do that, Beth.

-Goodbye, DI Armstrong.

Goodbye.

You are unbelievable.

I know.

-Not a compliment!

-Don't care.

Hey, what you doing?

I've got to go home to change, you start interviewing everybody.

So I'll drive you home.

I would rather not get in the car with you again today, thank you.

Hold it up... Up!

We can't wait any longer for Alison Clarke. Let's start the baking round.

Off, off, off, off. OK, everyone, pay attention...

Police! There'll be no baking today.

Neither will there be any poaching,

frying, grilling, searing or broiling -

whatever the hell that is.

One of your contestants - Alison Clarke - died last night.

Oh, my God. She's really dead?

I'm afraid so.

Well, that's not really our problem, is it? We're on a schedule here.

Oh, wow, that's very sensitive of you.

Well, what she meant was, we have a TV show to make...

I get it!

I was looking forward to the baking round, too.

Pastry is a real challenge...

separates the chefs from the cooks.

But a woman has died, a very attractive woman,

and she leaves behind a very unhappy and obese husband,

whom she enjoyed over-feeding

and who will now struggle to do so well again,

so it's very sad all round.

OK, let's start with every one of you telling me where you were last night.

Look, this is ridiculous, you can't just waltz in here

-and wave your badge around...

-Let's start with you!

Where were you last night?

-Oh, so I'm a suspect now?

-Just answer the question.

-Unless you've got something to hide?

-We were working on a cheese souffle recipe, all night.

Sue and I were in my training kitchen,

attempting a six-cheese souffle.

Let me get this straight, Sue.

You were making...

a Sue-fley?

And before you were head chef, you were a...

-..sous chef.

-Yes.

No, no, it's just that you were, your name is...

Your name is Sue...

And, um...

You know what? Forget it, it's fine.

We have a television show to make

and it has to be transmitted later today.

Yeah, but this is a police matter. And it takes precedence.

So let's all try and be grown-up and professional about this.

Mmm.

-HE LAUGHS

-Thanks.

-Dad, what...

-What are you doing here?

-I can't pop round and visit my own daughter?

No, of course... Of course you can.

-Good. You well?

-Yep. Yeah.

-You?

-Oh, can't complain.

I'm actually just in the middle of a case.

My day, even in the middle of a quadruple murder,

we'd still find time for tea and biscuits.

I really do have to go.

Well, um, what about catching up tonight over dinner?

OK. Yeah.

Um, how about here, seven-ish?

-Perfect.

-MOBILE PHONE BEEPS

-Sorry.

-I'll leave you to it.

-OK. Oh, I'll see you later.

Hey.

-What's going on?

-Time to prepare.

Competition continues this afternoon. You're joining it.

-I'm... Wait, what?

-I've narrowed down the suspects

but I believe they'll only open up to you if they think that you're one of them.

I was speaking to Robert Randall, who owes me a favour.

I helped him a couple of years ago when someone was pinching his cheese.

-Mm.

-Now, he says it's fine for you to enter the next round, but

-he's been told to treat you like any other contestant.

-You need to be convincing enough

so that the others don't become suspicious. Can you cook?

-Yeah.

-Good.

But I can show you a couple of tricks that'll make you great.

Come on, come on.

Check your smokes, check your smokes, come on. Ah!

-Green pepper.

-Yes.

-That's good.

-Woo! Woo-hoo! Go!

-Woo!

-Orange pepper.

-Yes!

Agh!

Voila!

SHE SIGHS This is ridiculous.

I mean, first this morning gets postponed, now we're late getting started.

I heard someone died.

-Who are you, anyway?

-I'm Georgina.

Cooking in the next round.

Next round? How? You weren't in the first round.

-I was on the reserve list.

-I had to do two weeks of nights

and one month double shifts to get through to this contest

and you're on some bloody reserve list that I've never heard of.

-I bet you're delighted Alison croaked.

-And you aren't?

And what is that supposed to mean?

You asked her for a pigeon and fennel recipe

and when she turned you down, y-y-you went crazy.

-I'd hardly say I went crazy, Marcus!

-You screamed at her.

NO, I DID NOT!

-Wow.

-Yeah.

-Charlotte's kind of short-tempered.

-So...

-her and Alison had a row?

-Yeah.

Charlotte was screaming and shoving her,

saying Alison thought she was better than everyone else.

-She told her she deserved to be brought down a peg or two.

-Really?

Mm-hm.

What's his story?

Stefan? He never talks...

to anyone.

I mean, we want to win but he really, really, really wants to win.

He's obsessed.

You know...

Charlotte said she was angry because Alison wouldn't share a recipe,

but I think she was just jealous because Alison's pretty.

Like you.

Oh...

Thank you.

HE SNIFFS HER

Oh....

OK, who's in charge here?

Clive Wilkinson, how can we help you?

E-mail, LAN, wireless connectivity, setting up a router, software.

-Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're in charge here?

-Yeah.

OK. Well, I'm a detective.

I'm here to ask questions about this guy, Marcus Porter.

-I believe he works here.

-Oh, yeah, he does. What's he done, then?

Cos I wouldn't be surprised, he's quite a one, is Marcus.

Keeps himself to himself. He's a real nerd.

Right...

Er, well, he's a suspect in a murder investigation so...

Well, I'm not surprised. Not surprised at all.

In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it involved cannibalism as well,

simmering of body parts,

living out his sordid fantasies about eating human flesh.

Wait a minute, Jesus Christ...

-He...he actually told you about these fantasies?

-No, no, no, but...

he was obsessed with food, was Marcus. And weird.

Weird as my uncle Nigel, I tell you. This man's really weird.

We were on holiday, we were up this hill.

-We were running down and I fall over and this sheep...

-OK, Clive. Clive.

This is going to be a lot easier for all of us

-if you just stick to the point and to the realm of reality, OK?

-OK, sorry.

Jesus. OK, is there anything else you know about Marcus Porter that might actually help?

Well, I guess the simplest thing to do would be check his computer,

you know, read his e-mail, see what websites he's been visiting.

OK, that's a good idea, let's do it.

Well, I mean, I can get into a lot of trouble for that, you know. Privacy laws and all.

-What are you saying, Clive?

-Well, I mean, why should I help YOU?

SIRENS BLARE

This is so cool.

CHATTERING

What a bunch, eh?

Aren't you hot?

I'm just thinking, cos it's quite stuffy in here and I'm sure

if you took your coat off, you'd be a bit more...more comfortable.

OK, enough gossip and plaiting each other's hair!

Let's make some food.

-CAMERAMAN:

-Speed.

-Rolling, yes?

-Rolling.

Contestants...

welcome to the second round of Kitchen Maestro.

You are all one step closer to becoming the sous chef

in my brand-new restaurant.

The baking round will have to wait,

cos Sue and I have cooked up something really rather special.

Today, I want you...

to replicate my signature dish.

We have made Robert's world-famous lobster veronique.

His luxurious spin on a classic, served with braised fennel.

OK. Gather round!

All of you...

remember, taste.

Try. Savour every flavour.

Begin.

Think about the combination of flavours, how unusual, how unique.

-See?

-RETCHING

Chef Randall...

Chef Randall, I think there's something wrong with it.

Something wrong?

Oh, right, excuse me, sorry. How many Michelin stars do you have?

None! You spit out my food?

-I cook for kings.

-I'm pretty sure.

That's what I'm saying, seriously, please try it.

You pony riding child.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Sugar instead of salt.

Sugar!

Instead of salt.

My fault, chef, I'm sorry, it won't happen again.

That's OK. Accidents happen.

We can cut that bit. Cut that bit, yes?

Mm-hm.

-CAMERAMAN:

-Still rolling.

-FRENCH ACCENT:

-Lobster veronique.

Cook, cook! Begin. Allons-y!

-There's a lot of porn.

-What, in the office?

-Yeah, well, you can download it to your mobile.

-Really?

Yeah, I can show you how actually.

-Focus.

-Sorry.

-What other websites?

There's a cooking blog here, Ready Or Gnocchi.

Oh, that's Alison Clarke's.

Er...

Looks like he posted on the comments section under a pseudonym.

-Posted a lot.

-OK, print it all out for me.

Like sucking on a tramp's sock.

-FORK CLATTERS

-OK, last dish of the day.

And let's hope you haven't murdered the fennel like Ian.

What's fennel ever done to you, Ian? Huh?

Your mother run away with a piece of fennel when you were a child?

OK...

Good luck.

-I've tasted worse.

-FORK CLATTERS

Can't remember when, but I have tasted worse.

OK...

The best lobster veronique of today is...

..Stefan. Good job.

Ian, you're going home.

And I hope the next time you hear the word fennel,

you cry yourself to sleep like a big failure baby!

But...

as a consolation...

at least you get this.

A replica of the Randall utility belt.

Six salts and spices

for instant flavour to lift any meal.

I never leave home without mine.

-IAN STIFLES SOBS

-The rest of you...

I'll see you tomorrow, where you will continue the fight to be

my new sous chef and for the title of...

Kitchen Maestro.

DRAMATIC DRUM BEAT

-Cameraman:

-And break.

-That's as long as I can hold that.

It's as long as I can hold that, look!

Standing there like an idiot!

Oh! Come on, man, mind where you're going!

Oh, Jesus...

-Oh, God, did you see what that freak did?

-Mm-hm.

OK.

Marcus Porter was obsessed by Alison Clarke's blog.

Kept on sending her weird, freaky food-fixated messages.

LOUDLY: If you'll take a look at this, madam...

-(Read that.)

-"I want to be your risotto.

"Beat the starch out of me and slather me in Parmesan," Jesus.

Yeah. The sick bastard.

It's the food stalker, definitely.

Well, I'm sorry, officer. I've told you everything I know.

OK, well, I'm just going to take this lobster for, er, forensic analysis.

Thank you.

Pigs.

Marcus, right?

I'm Georgina.

Quite a day, huh?

I suppose so.

I don't suppose you fancy grabbing a drink?

What, us? The, the two of us?

Yeah. Why not?

Uh, yeah.

Yeah, yeah, that'd be... that would be really great!

-KEYS CLATTER

-Oh, God, sorry.

I'm probably going to need those, being my house keys and all!

HE GROANS

Crikey, that's really heavy.

-I'll give you a hand.

-OK.

-Oh.

-Maybe it was stuck.

Oh, thank you. Thanks.

The doctor says that it's muscular atrophy or something,

yeah, but it doesn't really matter.

So, where do you want to go?

Actually, I've just remembered,

there's somewhere I'm supposed to be, so...

Yeah, it's...

It's fine, it's fine.

Marcus isn't our killer. I spoke to his GP.

-Apparently he has diagnosed muscular atrophy.

-Mm.

-He wasn't strong enough to lift Alison. He didn't do it.

-Damn.

Nine times out of ten, it's the weird stalker guy.

So that leaves us with Charlotte and Stefan. Charlotte had a grudge,

something about a recipe Alison wouldn't give her. And she's got a temper.

-I could definitely see her flipping.

-What about Stefan?

-Stefan's odd. You know, intense. And sweaty.

Yeah, I could imagine him doing it. But these are just my first impressions.

-It doesn't mean anything without evidence.

-OK.

Let's pick it up with those two tomorrow.

I've got a hot date tonight, so er...

-I'm not going to get much sleep, if you know what I mean.

-I always know what you mean.

You sure it's just you and your dad tonight?

Cos it looks like an all-you-can-eat buffet in here.

Well, I thought I could use the practice.

MOBILE VIBRATES Oh, who could this be?

Ooh, it's Beth!

Oh, shit! Shit.

I forgot to book the restaurant. I'm such a tit!

Oh, God...

Hey! Hey, blue eyes...

Oh, they're brown.

Well, look, I'll, I'll take a better look at them tonight.

Er, yeah, listen, I-I booked the Wolseley Restaurant in town tonight,

but I-I was thinking, hey, why don't you come round to mine

and I'll cook you a delicious, home-cooked meal?

Yeah, I cook. Oh, God, yeah. HE CHUCKLES

All right, well, look, I'll text you my address, OK,

and shall we say... eight, eight thirty?

OK, look forward to it.

Yeah. Bye. Bye.

God, she's great.

So look, can I take some of this food?

I thought you promised her a delicious home-cooked meal.

Yeah, it is home-cooked. You're home, you cooked it.

MUSIC: "I'm Gonna Love You Just A Little Bit More Baby" by Barry White

-You liked it?

-It was amazing.

Yeah, it was amazing.

-Damn, she's good.

-Hmm?

Sorry, the lamb was good. Tasty.

Oh, God rest her delicious, lamb-y soul.

THEY LAUGH

How do you even make something like that?

Er, that's a good question. Erm...

Well, you know what they say about chefs?

They never, NEVER reveal their secrets.

That's magicians.

Is it? THEY LAUGH

Right! I'm just, I'm just, I'm just worried that if I tell you,

then it's going to ruin the... the effect.

That's still magicians.

-Yeah?

-Stop being shy!

-I want to know how you did it.

-Well, OK, OK, er...

Well, you take your lamb, er...

You know, there's, there's a lot of different factors,

-a lot of different ingredients.

-Mm.

-Um...

-There's, there the lamb...

-Yeah.

-Which is the chief component. Erm...

The lamb is slow-cooked at 120 degrees to melt the fat.

And...and then you put, er, butter

on there to crisp up the rosemary

and the garlic, you di...

You didn't, didn't really need to know that now, did you?

The way you talk about food is so sexy.

-Yeah?

-Mm.

Well, so is your face.

You know, they say food and sex go hand in hand.

-Do they?

-Mm-hm.

# Sweeter and sweeter

# Your tender words of love keep calling

# Eager and eager, yeah... #

Marcus Porter we can eliminate.

-So we're down to these two.

-So what do your instincts say?

Well, he's very intense.

But she's very aggressive.

What do your instincts say?

SHE SIGHS

Well, he kept his coat on the entire time. He must have been boiling.

-Well, that's a bit weird.

-It is weird.

# Deeper and deeper

# In love with you I'm falling... #

Mmm. Let me, let me get rid of this jacket, sorry.

Why does your coat smell of chicken?

-It's not...chicken.

-Yeah. Chicken.

God, that's weird.

When he left, his coat looked...

Stefan!

-Stefan!

-What?

I've had guys call me the wrong name in bed before,

but Stefan is a first.

No. No, no, no, no, the case I'm working on at the moment.

Oh...

Beth, Beth, please, can you stay here? Don't go anywhere.

I've just got to go for a bit. But I'll be back!

Yep, I will be. I promise!

SHE SIGHS

-Stefan was cheating.

-Yeah, I know.

Well, his coat looked smaller after the round.

He must've been hiding stuff inside it, that's why he wouldn't take it off.

-His coffee was actually chicken stock.

-OK, so he was smuggling pre-prepared food into the contest.

Wow, he really wanted to win.

Maybe enough to kill his main competitor.

-Right, I'll see you at his place.

-Yeah, I'll see you there.

Oh, shit.

Maier? Maier!

SMOKE ALARM BEEPS Maier? Maier?

GEORGINA COUGHS Jesus!

Argh! Woo.

Woo!

I don't know much about cooking, but that looks pretty burnt to me.

And I think I know why.

Oh, no.

He was stabbed with this knife. A Japanese sushi knife.

-Yeah, well, the question is why would someone want to make sashimi out of Stefan?

-Hmm.

-Tell me about the writing.

-Oh.

Pesto. Not bad, either.

Could've done with a little less Parmesan,

but hey, it's just a tasting.

So I've just been on to the hospital that Charlotte Devins works at.

She was on a night shift, according to the duty nurse,

so we've gone from having three suspects to having none.

Maybe it was a different killer.

I mean, we know that Stefan was cheating.

Maybe someone else found out.

So Stefan kills Alison and then someone kills Stefan?

Yeah, it makes a lot less sense when you say it out loud.

OK, let's pick it up from here tomorrow.

I should be having sex right now.

So should I.

Yeah, you got a date too?

Oh, no. I always think I should be having sex.

SHE SIGHS

Oh, thanks, Dad(!)

MUSIC: "Get Ur Freak On" by Missy Elliott

# Missy be puttin' it down I'm the hottest round

# I'll tell y'all Ya'll can't stop me now

# Listen to me now I'm lastin' 20 rounds

# And if you want me, people then come and get me now

# Is you with me now? Then biggie biggie bounce

# I know you dig the way I sw-sw-switch my style

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your, get your, get your Get your freak on

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your freak on Get your freak on

# Get your, get your, get your Get your freak on

# Is that your chick?! #

KNOCK ON DOOR Yeah, all right, all right.

-Hey, you're early.

-I know. I couldn't sleep.

I was thinking about the case and baking. All night.

OK.

OK. So we have croissants,

chocolate chip muffins.

I had to make six batches of these just to get the consistency perfect.

It's all about the flour-to-egg ratio, it has to be exact. Here...

try one of these.

You're not actually in this competition.

-You do remember that, right?

-Oh, yeah.

-I'm a professional detective, why would you question that?

-Um...

I think you're becoming a tiny bit obsessed by this.

You know we talked about you getting a life?

Police work and cooking is all I need.

-You're going to become a spinster!

-You need cats to be a spinster.

-Not necessarily.

-You can't be a spinster at my age.

-No, spinsterism is not age-specific.

-Oh.

-Hi. Sorry to interrupt.

-Beth!

-Hey.

-Beth, Georgina, Georgina, Beth.

-Hi, Georgina.

-Hi.

Oh, wow, these look amazing.

Yeah, help yourself.

-Mmm! Have these got almonds in?

-Yes, they do. Thank you for noticing.

Yes, thank you for noticing all my hard work.

-Yeah, I made them especially for you.

-Aw, you're amazing.

-Isn't he amazing?

-He's all right.

Well, nice to meet you.

And catch some bad guys. See you.

See you later.

You see?

Your cooking, my looks - killer combination!

You're like my culinary Cyrano de Bergerac.

Only you...you don't have the big hooter, obviously.

We need to take another look at Robert Randall.

-But he's got an alibi.

-Randall's been Sue's boss for 30 years

-so she has to cover for him.

-That's a stretch, isn't it?

Yesterday we had to try one of Randall's signature dishes.

It had been made with sugar instead of salt. Sue took the blame and Randall let her off.

He'd never do that unless it was his mistake and Sue was covering for him.

A wild hypothesis based on flimsy evidence - I'll buy that.

So, I did some digging. I ran Sue's credit cards

and found that she'd made a purchase on the other side of town from Randall's test kitchen at 10pm,

-so there's no way she could've been with him all night.

-OK.

Let's go take a run at them.

I forgot.

I popped home briefly and then I came back to the kitchen.

I wasn't gone long. Must've slipped my mind.

Really?

So, Chef Randall, you want to tell us what you were doing that night?

-Cooking. We already told you.

-Right.

Venison tortellini.

-Right.

-It's cheese souffle, we were making cheese souffle.

Yes, you told us the other day. I remembered. Chef Randall didn't.

Two people in my competition are dead.

I'm not exactly thinking clearly.

Were you thinking clearly when you killed Alison Clarke and Stefan Maier?

Why would he kill people in his own competition?

It's terrible publicity.

Right. We can't find a motive.

But you were lying about your alibi.

You tell us why you're lying and we will eliminate you as suspects.

-We have a competition to get back to.

-Yes.

Either arrest us or let us go.

OK. Fine, go. We'll talk to you again.

Thank you.

OK, we need to run down where they were

that night and the night that Stefan died.

We need to see if there are any more cracks in their alibi

-and why they're lying.

-Definitely.

We should get right on that in a few hours.

A few hours? What's wrong with now?

I think maybe at the contest I might pick up a few clues about the case.

-That sort of thing.

-Or you might cook Chef Randall, our chief suspect,

something that he loves because you're insanely competitive.

-I'll let you eat whatever I cook.

-Done.

HE EXHALES SHARPLY

We tasted Sue's dessert earlier on and that set the standard to beat.

And remember, while I am tasting the bitterness of dark chocolate,

one of you will be tasting the bitterness...

..of defeat.

He must think those up.

Huh? He must think those up while he's at home,

mean things to say about food.

-It's like you don't care.

-No, I do. I want this more than anything.

If that's creme anglaise, then I'm an old Chinese obstetrician.

Embarrassing!

In fact, I need something to take the taste out of my mouth.

Coffee me.

Get me my damn espresso!

CROCKERY RATTLES

It's like swimming through treacle!

Next up...

Now, I'm hoping for something, anything, just something I can eat.

Presentation - first-class.

Do you know what, please, just tell me what you think.

I actually can't take it. Do you like it?

You don't... I put cinnamon in, which I know is controversial.

There's too much cinnamon isn't there? I knew it, I knew it!

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

This dish...

HE SPLUTTERS

-Chef! Chef!

-Oh, my God!

-What the hell did you put in that?

-Cinnamon.

Cinnamon!?

'Deadly delicious!'

-Will you stop doing headlines?

-Pastries to die for!

I didn't kill Robert Randall.

No, she didn't.

Oh, Naz, thank God! What the hell's going on?

Randall's in hospital.

They've flushed out his system and he's going to live.

SHE SIGHS

And it wasn't my fault?

Hey, I tasted your tarte au citron. It was a-maz-ing!

Just the right hint of lemon. How did you get the base so buttery?

-Well Tony told me ...

-Hey,

I never thought I'd say this, but can we talk about the case, please?

Sure, Jack. We've been testing all the food Randall was trying.

And we've got a positive result.

We found a nasty bacteria, a strain of botulism.

Cheers, Tony.

-Oh, right. So, it was an accident?

-Oh, no.

A strain that virulent has to be artificially introduced.

Especially when it's found in espresso.

It was in the coffee?

Yep.

BOTH: Sue!

Sue tried to kill me?

She brought the cup straight to you. Nobody else touched it. We both saw.

Sue?!

-I can't ...

-We would have found out a lot sooner

if you hadn't provided false alibis for each other.

I can't believe that!

The thing is the night that Alison died,

I was with another woman

and I didn't want my wife finding out.

So you pretended that you were with Sue,

even though you had no idea where she was?

We chefs tend to stick together.

I thought she was stepping in to help me out.

I had no idea she was covering her own tracks.

-Well, we can't prove that at the moment.

-She's not under arrest?

The case against Sue is circumstantial.

The bacteria could have occurred naturally.

Or been introduced into the cup itself earlier.

We'll find something on her.

I just can't believe she killed those poor people.

I mean, I barely knew them.

But those poor, young people.

I mean, Stefan. Intense boy.

Alison...

I mean, so talented and so beautiful.

And her blog was something else, it really was.

But she wasn't above using a bread maker.

So she kept her feet on the ground, or so it seems.

-Hello, Mr Randall.

-Hello.

Er, Robert, there was one thing.

Right before all this happened. You said, "This dish is..."

when you tasted my lemon tart. What was that last word?

-Promising.

-Promising?

For an amateur.

Right. Thank you.

Get well.

So, we'll try and trace Sue's whereabouts

on the nights Stefan and Alison died.

Review all the CCTV footage and re-canvas all the witnesses.

-Sounds like a plan?

-Yeah.

Hey, what's the matter.

-I don't know. It just seems...

-What?

It seems like we're missing something.

You know, we still don't know how all the murders are related.

There has to be something.

Hey, no!

-Never take case files home with you.

-Why?

Because it's depressing and unhealthy.

And sometimes, when you leave them lying around,

the girl that you're seeing opens them up

and you discover that she's morbidly aroused by crime scene photos

and then you've got to break up with her, but only after you've done

some weird shit that you'd really rather not talk about.

Or...something along those lines.

Hey, look. Relax. We know who did it.

By the end of the week, we'll have enough evidence to arrest her.

Here, something for you.

Randall's utility belt!

Yeah, the paramedic got it off Randall in the ambulance.

-Don't worry, he'll never know it's missing.

-Thanks.

Hey, listen.

I won't tell anyone about it as long as you keep cooking for Beth.

You do know that is crazy, don't you?

What if you get married one day?

You can't have me dropping off your Sunday lunch

through the back window.

She's going to find out you're a chauvinist liar

who has never cooked for her.

Maybe. In the meantime, I want as much sex with her as possible.

-This is Sue Goretti.

-Aye. I recognise her from the telly.

Why? Is she the killer?

Well, she's our chief suspect.

Leo! I can't find the socket for the...

George!

-What are you doing here?

-Me? I'm just...

He's helping me with a new security system.

After what happened with Alison, you can't be too careful.

-Hang on, hang on!

-I knew it! I knew the minute

you just turned up at my flat that you wanted something!

George, I'm just trying to make a living.

By ambulance chasing my cases?!

You went through my case files and you knew that the husband

of a murder victim would be the perfect customer for you.

You cannot go around using private confidential police information.

If this got out, it could ruin my career!

-Well, that's not going to happen.

-How do you know that?

Jack, do me a favour, talk some sense into her, would you?

Actually, er...

I'm with my partner on this one.

Are you serious?

Yeah. Afraid so, mate.

Oh, I see!

Thank you.

That's OK.

Weren't we supposed to meet at Tony's?

I thought I'd drop off some pastries for Beth.

-She is here, right?

-Yeah, but...

-She appreciates my cooking, Jack.

It's the least I could do.

Right? Did you, did you get any sleep last night?

No, but I'm fine. I'm totally fine.

Yeah? You're drinking coffee now. How much have you had this morning?

Some, but I didn't feel like sleeping and so I cooked

and I drank coffee, but I'm fine.

Really? This is the second night in a row that you haven't slept.

And you're practically doing star jumps in my kitchen.

Er, these look ni...

Can you just come and stand here! You're making me nervous.

Yeah.

Jesus!

So, did you make all these by hand?

Of course. No chef worth their salt would use a bread maker.

Bread maker?

Hold on.

What's Alison Clarke's blog called again?

Ready Or Gnocchi. Why?

-What are you thinking?

-I'm thinking I may have just solved the crime.

No more coffee, all right?

Thank you for coming everyone.

This hopefully won't take long.

It's been a traumatic few days.

Sadly, the trauma isn't over yet. Almost, but not quite.

In the immortal words of Jon Bon Jovi, "Whoa, we're halfway there."

You know this whole thing has been about food.

Which is why, I've taken the liberty,

of preparing a bowl of risotto for you all.

If you'll excuse me.

Huh!

OK.

Voila!

Please, enjoy.

You made this yourself?

I made it from some stuff I had left in my fridge.

Some old sausages and a jar of weird shit

I got in Berlin a few years ago.

That's right, help yourselves. Don't be shy.

-You made this?

-Uh-huh.

-But it's absolutely sensational!

-Oh, come on!

No, really. It is.

Hey, you think that's good? You should try my toad in the hole.

Maybe it's so good, because I used some of Chef Randall's

speciality salt in it.

In fact, I used quite a lot.

Hmm, I think you'll find it's not commercially available yet.

Mm-hm, I know. That's why I used the salt from your utility belt.

-My salt?

-Mm-hm.

-My personal salt?

-That's right.

-From my utility belt?

Yep. What's wrong, Chef Randall?

-I thought you liked it.

-I need to go to hospital.

-Could somebody call me an ambulance, please?

-Why?

That salt has a bacteria in it.

It's a strain of botulism.

We need to go and get treatment immediately,

-otherwise we're all going to die.

-Chef Randall.

How do you know that it's got bacteria in it?

Because I put it in there, OK!

-Oh?

-Oh, God!

-I need to go to hospital! I need to...

-Chef Randall, It's OK!

It's OK, I lied!

I didn't put your salt in the risotto.

It's OK!

I feel all hot and sweaty. I can't breathe.

I know, I know.

It's amazing the tricks your mind plays on you.

I mean, take me for instance. I used to think Coldplay were good.

I mean, how is that possible?

It was all to divert suspicion from the first murder - Alison.

That's why you infected yourself.

That's why you murdered Stefan. He was doing well in the contest.

You needed to make sure it looked like that was the killer's motive.

I feel a wee bit better now.

-How did you know it was me?

-When you talked about Alison,

you talked about her bread maker. She never mentioned it on her blog.

And no chef worth their salt would ever admit to using one.

You knew she had one, because you'd been in her kitchen.

Then it was just a matter of making a killer risotto

and forcing a confession.

You didn't go there intending to kill Alison.

The blow to the back of the head suggests it was spur of the moment.

So what happened, Randall?

I went to her house,

to tell her how fantastic her meal had been.

That she was a certainty to win the competition.

And then, just as one chef to another, I asked her for her recipe.

And she refused.

In fact, she laughed in my face.

She said I was a has-been.

That she'd only entered the competition

to write about it on her blog.

That my recipes were from the 1980s,

that she had no intention of working for me,

that I was a joke. She laughed at me!

And you don't take no for an answer, do you?

So you hit her. You hit her hard.

And when you realised that she was dead,

you panicked, didn't you?

You wrote a message on the wall in tomato sauce

so it looked like the crime was about the contest.

As for Stefan, who knows why you chose him.

Maybe because he was weird. I'd have chosen him too.

It was easy enough to frame Sue.

All you had to do was slip a bit of salt into your espresso

before you drink it.

Chef Randall...

Your goose is cooked and served.

Nice!

What's wrong?

I think I'm just having a massive coffee comedown.

Well, do you mind doing it later?

I've got a home-made breakfast and a woman waiting for me.

Oh, shit.

-Oh shit, shit, shit!

-What, what, what?

The croissants I made this morning!

I used the salt from Randall's utility belt!

-The one you gave me.

-Oh, my God, Beth! Come on, let's go!

SIRENS WAIL

Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up!

MOBILE PHONE BUZZES

-Shit!

-Look, maybe she's not up yet.

Or maybe she's writhing around in agony from your poison pastry!

What!? Oh, you are joking!

Screw this!

-What are you doing?

-Well, I'm not getting a 99, am I!?

Beth! Beth? Beth?

Oh, my God, Beth.

No, no, please!

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

THEY SCREAM

-What are you doing?!

-Why didn't you answer me?

I was doing my relaxation exercises.

OK, did you eat any of the croissants?

What? Oh, yeah. Mmm, delicious. As always.

-Right come on.

-What?

-We've got to go to the hospital.

-I'll explain, come on!

-Did you eat anything?

-Yes, she ate a croissant.

-Can someone tell me

what the hell is going on?

-The croissant you ate was poisoned.

-What?!

I made the croissant, all the food Jack says he's cooked for you.

He passed it off as his own.

The salt I used happens to contain a nasty strain of bacteria,

which I must point out I had no idea about...

OK, so you didn't cook anything?

I'll explain later. Can we first just save your life, please?

-Wait, wait, wait. I didn't eat the croissant.

-You what?

-I threw it away.

-You threw it away?

And then I put the crumbs on the plate

to make it look like I'd eaten it.

I don't understand.

OK, er...

Truth is, I don't really like your food, Jack.

-Or rather

-YOUR

-food. Sorry.

I just said I liked it so you would want to sleep with me.

But Beth, with an arse like yours, I'd have slept with you anyway.

-Oh!

-Come here!

Don't be silly.

Hang on, hang on, hang on.

So...so you didn't like my food?

That's just personal taste.

It's not you, it's me.

That's fine. It's fine. I just...

I think I thought we made a connection, you know.

-It seems I was wrong.

-Oh, God. Please don't cry.

I'm sorry!

I haven't slept in a really long time

and I'm having a very serious coffee come down.

I think this is goodbye.

OK?

I'd better just go and...

Georgina? Georgina!

KNOCK ON DOOR

Coming!

Hey.

Hurry up, will you? I'm parked on a double yellow.

-Wow, you look different.

-Thanks, I was going for different.

You were right,

I need to get a life outside work.

By the way, could you possibly rustle up

one of those lasagnes for me?

No, I'm done cooking for you so that you can get your end away. Out!

I'll get a takeout!

-Keys!

-Sorry?

-I think I feel like driving today.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not comfortable with other people

-driving the Golden Lady.

-I promise I'll treat her exactly as you would.

OK, but listen. None of that fancy police driving, OK?

Why am I letting you do this?

Whoa!

So, you and Beth.

-How's that all going?

-Er, it's over.

-Three shags and then out.

-What?

-After all that?

-Yep.

I mean, she was pretty and she was kind of fun,

but at the end of the day she lied to me.

She lied about enjoying my food and I cannot be with a woman who lies.

It wasn't even your food. It was my food.

OK, so you're going to break up with her for being a liar,

-even though you're a bigger liar?

-Yeah, basically.

-What?

-Nothing.

You're just funny.

Thanks.

I think?

Ooh?

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Whoa!

What the hell are you doing?

What did you do that for?!

Oh, right.

OK, I get it. So that's why you wanted to drive my car.

How do I look?

Yeah, do-able.

Good enough.

You're paying for that by the way!

We're just here to investigate the brutal murder of their headmaster.

This is a prestigious school, detective.

-Headmaster rejects a child, Mum gets angry...

-Are you spying on us?

I'm knitting an egg cosy for my mother. You got a problem with that?

-Your mum and I are getting divorced.

-'Marriage is really over-rated.'

I mean, why get married when you can just find a woman you hate

-and buy her a house?

-She is a suspect in an on-going murder investigation!

Woah, whoa! It's just dinner.

-Miss, are you going to give him a detention?

-That's not a bad idea.

Someone's trying to poison you.

Oh, my God, Jack! Jack!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd