Episode 4 Death in Paradise

You haven't got the guts.

Little mousy Megan!

If only people knew.

That gun's not even...

PEOPLE CHAT, MUSIC PLAYS

CHURCH BELL CHIMES

-Found it in the wardrobe at home.

-Mm-hm.

-Must've been DI Hulme's.

-Mm.

Why don't you do all the red bits first?

Do you know how wrong that statement is?

Start at the corners, then the edges, then the middle.

-Just like a case.

-How's your prisoner?

-What prisoner?

-The drunk and disorderly from last night, minor assault.

-He's still not happy.

-Why? Didn't he like your cooking?

Says he wants to go home. And his wife's been calling every ten minutes.

Then tell her to keep a tighter rein on him.

-Can someone help me?

-What is it?

It's my husband. He's dead.

I shot him.

It's OK, OK. You don't have to come. Look, here...

(Get her a drink of water.)

Is it bad?

Yeah.

There's no-one here.

A woman confesses to murder and there's no body, no blood.

More than that, the entire site looks like it's been cleansed.

The tide could have cleaned the blood from the sand. Maybe it took the body too.

Call the coastguard. I want a sweep of this entire coastline.

In this heat, he'll bloat and float pretty quickly.

I know it's tough, Megan, but I need you to tell me exactly what happened.

Lucas just stormed off.

I tried to stop him, but when I caught up, he went for me.

I grabbed something to protect myself. I think it was a rock.

When he fell, I saw a gun in the sand.

I think that's what he must have hit me with.

You haven't got the guts!

Ha, look at you - little mousy Megan.

If people only knew...

That gun's not even...

So what did you do with the gun?

I dropped it - on the sand, beside him.

Was it unusual for him to be violent towards you in that way?

Er, here, sorry...

Thank you.

-Where did the gun come from?

-I don't know.

-You've never seen him with a gun before?

-No.

What's going to happen to me?

-Well, I...

-I'm so frightened.

If you shot someone, why didn't you report it right away?

I don't know, I was scared. Er, I just walked.

She was probably in shock.

-Where are you staying?

-With friends. They have a house here.

We came over to celebrate their anniversary.

It happened as I told you. I swear.

Come on, come on.

'OK, Mr Knight...'

you're being released without charge,

but now that you've been cautioned, should you commit any similar offence whilst on the island,

it will be taken into account, OK?

I didn't commit any bloody offence.

You know, we can always put you back in the cell.

How do I get out of here?

This way.

She doesn't look like a killer.

Too pretty?

No, she just seems so...

-..innocent.

-Apart from just confessing to murdering her husband?

You know what I think?

Someone spiked her drink, she had a bad dream.

Woke up and thinks it's real.

And her injuries?

OK, so she had too many cocktails, fell over, cracked her head

-and went a bit mental.

-Super.

I look forward to bringing the Commissioner up to speed.

"Hmm, we had a woman confess to murdering her husband

"and after an exhaustive investigation,

"we are of the considered opinion that she 'went a bit mental."

-Drugs?

-Thank you, Dwayne. Go and take care of Mrs Talbot.

You're being very...considerate.

Bearing in mind she's just committed a murder.

Ah! Well, we haven't established THAT.

I mean, it's hard to confirm a murder's even taken place, without a body.

Wow, you like her, don't you?

Pile of nonsense.

Oh? English, softly spoken... I bet she's just your type.

Not strictly true.

You were holding hands!

-I?!

-Yeah, you!

She...

WE weren't holding hands, she was holding MY hand.

Mm-hm.

You'd like her to be innocent

so you can run barefoot across the sand and make wild love in the surf.

Not only is that inaccurate, Camille, it's also childish,

fanciful and unhygienic.

We'll need to do a full written statement under caution.

Of course, whatever you say.

Don't worry, we'll explain everything fully as we go along. Camille?

Would you take Mrs Talbot through, please?

Yes, sir.

So - what happened?

Crazy woman.

Went all the way there, nothing.

-No body?

-No nothing.

I need you to go back to the beach.

-What for?

-If there WAS a gun,

the tide wouldn't be able to carry it out, would it?

I mean a body, maybe - it would float - but a gun's too heavy.

If the tide dragged it, it'd just get stuck in the sand, correct?

I guess so.

Yeah, take a metal detector, concentrate on the area where Mrs Talbot said the body was.

Yes, sir.

What happens now?

Well, I've given it some thought and without a body,

it's difficult to simply take this statement at face value.

So, I think it'll be fine for you to go back to your villa

and we'll carry on with our investigation.

Oh, but you must surrender your passport.

It's just a formality.

I understand.

Er, thank you.

Yes, thank you.

Er... Right, let's get you home.

Megan, where on earth have you been?

And where's Lucas?

Mrs Knight?

Detective Inspector Richard Poole. Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey.

Honore police. May we come in?

Of course.

Patrick, darling. It's the police.

Patrick?!

What's happened?

METAL DETECTOR CLICKS

Oh, my God, that's awful.

Can I ask when you last saw Mr Talbot?

It, it was last night.

We were supposed to have dinner together at Pierre's.

Lucas arrived very late and very drunk.

He caused a scene. I had to take him outside.

And he and Megan were arguing and he strode off and she went after him.

And you didn't see either Mr or Mrs Talbot again?

No. I, I came straight home.

Is that a rain tree?

-Yes, it is.

-You don't see many of those over here, do you?

It's all palms and coconuts.

But...wow!

Look at that.

Magnificent specimen.

Huh. That's made my day.

So...what about you, Mr Knight?

Did you see Mr or Mrs Talbot again?

Of course I didn't. I was arrested.

Excuse me?

Do you lot actually talk to each other?

I took Lucas out of the restaurant to stop him trashing the place.

One of your officers saw me punching him,

got the wrong end of the stick and arrested me.

I spent the night in your cells.

I see.

Right. Well, there you are.

Megan doesn't want to stay here.

CAR RADIO ON

-Gregory!

-Morning, Dwayne.

How's it going?

How long you been here?

Oh, half an hour.

Looks like you've been here all night.

No way, I just parked up, I was just going to do some fishing, that's all.

You see any tourists on the beach last night?

-You hear anything?

-Like I said, I wasn't here last night.

I hear what you're saying.

But in 20 years, I've never heard the truth pass your lips.

Come on. Out of the truck.

Open it up.

I never really fitted in here.

Astrid and Lucas went to University together,

she only put up with me cos of him, so now that he...

I wish I'd never been dragged into this world.

Er, is this the dress you were wearing last night?

Yeah.

-I'm sorry, but we'll need to keep it.

-Of course.

Sorry.

-I'll find a place in town. I know you don't want me here. Not really.

-You don't have to go.

She's got a mind of her own, Patrick, she can do as she pleases.

Is it true?

What the police said?

Lucas hurt me.

Not just last night.

I know you don't want to believe it, but it's true.

Well, Lucas had his problems...

He hit me, Astrid.

You're a sensitive soul. You feel things other people would shrug off.

Like this?

Or this?

I want to go now.

All right, one thing. Do either of you own a gun?

-Of course we don't.

-No, no. No, no. No - thank you.

Allow me.

Who's that?

Greg Collins - he was parked up by the beach.

Doing what?

Knowing Greg? Nothing good.

Room 25.

In case you want to visit.

-I know what you're doing and it won't work.

-And what is that?

These insinuations.

-About Mrs Talbot.

-What, you don't think she's pretty?

-Yes. No.

-Which is it?

Neither. I'm a police officer, she's a potential suspect,

it would be inappropriate to have an opinion.

-So now she's only a "potential" suspect?

-Yeah.

Despite us having a full confession?

No, I believe she told us honestly what she thinks happened, but...

There's blood on her dress. She admitted her husband had been violent towards her before,

-that she feared for her life.

-We haven't found a body.

-That doesn't make her innocent.

-It doesn't make her guilty, either.

So you don't believe she murdered her husband?

Yeah. I think that's very likely.

But to be sure, to be absolutely sure, we need a body.

RADIO: 'Come in, car one.'

Go ahead, Dwayne.

'We found the body.'

Got caught up in the props of a fishing boat on its way back in.

So you think cause of death was the gunshot wound?

Much obliged.

-What's the verdict?

-Shot in the head.

Must have been dead before he hit the ground.

She said she shot twice.

Yeah. Unlikely they both hit.

He has other injuries.

Hmm, probably propeller contact. The coroner can confirm.

Look - his stopwatch is running.

Really?

Turn it off.

One hour 23 minutes.

Huh...

-Hello. Where did that come from?

-Caught behind the watch.

Oh, doesn't match his jacket.

Hang on...

-Fidel!

-Sir!

Take this phone and put it in a large bag and fill it with rice.

-Rice, sir?

-Yeah, make sure it's well covered, it'll soak up the moisture.

-And do NOT turn it on!

-Sir.

Looks like it happened just as she said.

She shot him in the head, the tide took him out.

-You want me to do it?

-No. I'll do it.

Fidel.

Hello.

Megan Talbot, I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murder

of Lucas Talbot.

You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence

if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court.

Anything you do say may be given as evidence. Do you understand?

I've got the best duty solicitor on the island on her way.

-I don't want one.

-Just talk to her, OK? They're here to make things easier.

This man...hurt you.

I think you have every right to claim self-defence.

Oh, er... Can I just ask one last thing?

Er, have you ever seen this before?

From an item of yours or your husband's clothing, perhaps?

I don't think so.

No.

Leave it!

You arrested Patrick Knight, didn't you?

Yes, sir.

The other man was on the floor, he was punching him.

That must have been Lucas Talbot.

I dragged him off - he resisted, so I handcuffed him.

And Lucas Talbot?

By the time I'd got Mr Knight in the car, he'd gone.

-Does anyone know why they were arguing?

-No, sir.

I just don't understand why she can't explain any of this.

The button could be flotsam.

But ONE button? Behind the watch, though?

And the stopwatch - an hour and 23 minutes.

We've got times and places. We've got blood on her dress.

We've got a body AND we've got a confession. All the pieces are there.

Yes, they are.

Do you think Megan Talbot shot her husband?

-Yes.

-Then it's over. Come on.

I'll buy you a cup of tea.

-You know what? Life would be a lot easier if everyone just came in and confessed.

-True.

-No struggling to find clues.

-Interviewing witnesses.

Just an open-and-shut case every time.

I'll drink to that. Cheers.

Cheers.

Inspector?

Where did he get the gun? And why wasn't it on the beach?

-What?

-Look, if the body WAS taken out by the tide,

-where's the gun?

-Perhaps she lied -

-she could have thrown it into the sea.

-But why?

I mean, if you come into a police station confessing to

murdering your husband, why lie about what you did with the gun?

-It doesn't make sense.

-Well, maybe she was confused. Couldn't remember things properly.

You said yourself she must have been in shock.

Hmm, it's possible.

But what about the button behind the watch? How does that fit in?

-And, hey - something else is really irritating me.

-Really?

Patrick Knight.

Now as I understand it, he was belligerent

-and complaining about his night in the cells.

-So?

So when we went to the house and his wife called him

to say that we were the police, do you know what he said?

"What's happened?"

Look, come on - think about it logically.

If you'd been what you thought was wrongfully arrested,

spent a night in the cells, then been released and then the police turned up at the house,

well - wouldn't you assume it was all connected?

I mean, wouldn't your first reaction on hearing the police were at the door,

be to... I don't know - jump to conclusions

and, er, complain about police harassment or something, yeah?

But he just said, "What's happened?"

Maman, what would you say if the police came to your house?

What's the first thing you'd ask?

What's happened?

Yeah - OK. Now say you've just been released from the cells.

What have I done?

What?

-Am I guilty or innocent?

-Sorry, does that matter?

You tell me, you're the policeman.

OK, er...you're guilty.

Then why have you released me?

OK... Look, forget it.

Ignore his reaction if you want to. I'm clearly on my own here.

But no gun, the button, the stopwatch.

They all mean something.

Did we get any statements from the staff at the restaurant where they ate?

I was going to do it this afternoon.

-Let's do it now.

-But we've just got here.

Look, even if Mrs Talbot's guilty and her confession's true,

that's no excuse for shoddy police work.

-We'll still need to provide all the necessary evidence for the prosecution.

-Or the defence.

Hmm - that too. Dwayne...

Mrs Knight said that Lucas Talbot was very late for dinner

and very drunk. Find out where he was drinking and Fidel,

check with the UK, find out what you can about Astrid and Patrick Knight and the victim, too.

-Yes, sir.

-Come on. Chop, chop!

Pierre is the best seafood chef on the island.

Yeah, I'm not a big fan of seafood, if I'm honest.

Most of it has eyes.

A bit disconcerting to eat something while it's staring back at you.

-Hey, Camille!

-Hey.

Good to see you. We've got some beautiful lobster in today.

Mr... Um, Pierre.

I gather you had a party of four in here last night?

-Name of Knight?

-Several weeks on the island of Saint-Marie

and this is your first time in here, am I right, Mr...UK Policeman?

That's correct.

-Though I have really, really been meaning to sample your menu.

-Well, what's stopped you?

Murders, mainly.

They wreak havoc with the appetite.

I see. You're not going to help because I haven't eaten here?

-Isn't that a bit childish?

-I think what the Inspector means is, he'd love to try the Pierre Platter.

-Wouldn't you?

-Do I really have to go through this charade to get police work done?

-(Yes.)

I would LOVE to try the Pierre Platter.

Mr and Mrs Knight were here last night with a lady.

Mrs Talbot? Quite petite, blonde hair, very pretty?

Yes, that sounds like her.

Then the other man came in drunk, right after nine, started shouting.

He was very abusive, so Mr Knight took him outside.

-That was it?

-Well, there was a lot of shouting in the car park,

so one of my staff called the police.

Why don't you see it for yourself while I prepare your lunch.

-We have it on security camera.

-Oh.

Oh, that's him.

Ah! I wish I knew what they were saying.

-It's there in the body language.

-I don't speak 'body language'.

I only took Latin and Mandarin.

Lucas Talbot is angry.

He wants to go back inside.

-So we don't really know who he was angry with.

-His wife.

-Why?

Because he was trying to get back in the restaurant,

Mr Knight was stopping him doing so.

-Phew...

-Good grief.

So, how is the food?

I feel like Poseidon himself.

Tell me, do you recognise this button?

-No.

-Really? There's nothing in the restaurant it could have come from?

I'm sorry, no.

-Never mind, uh, thank you.

-Now, please enjoy.

-Thank you.

Ah, Pierre.

Smells good.

So?

Well, it seems like Lucas Talbot drank in every bar in Honore before he got here last night.

He must have been steaming.

I talked to people who saw him drinking and from what I can make out,

he just sat alone, texting on his mobile phone.

He left the last bar on the harbour about 9pm.

That fits with the time he arrived here.

Ah, these were calling me all along the street.

OK, so, I ran all three names through the computer,

Lucas Talbot first, he has three previous arrests on suspicion of assault,

all reported by women he was in a relationship with.

His company which organised VIP social events went into liquidation last month.

Not much on Patrick and Astrid Knight.

No convictions, nothing so much as a parking fine.

-She's very wealthy, though.

-She is?

It looks like Mrs Knight already had all the money when they got married.

I pulled these off the internet.

She runs a celebrity PR company which protects high-profile clients from the press.

When they get into trouble, she's the first person they call.

And Patrick Knight?

He was a journalist when they met, but he's just started his own management company,

-so it seems he's trying to even things up.

-OK, good... So, Astrid and Patrick Knight

help protect reputations and cover up improprieties.

I wonder what they'd do if someone came to them

saying they'd just murdered their husband?

I am still not sure why we're back here.

Because we may have a body and a confession, and yes,

I'm prepared to accept that Megan Talbot may very well be the killer,

but what we don't have is the truth. I'm certain of it.

A truth that will at the very least explain the button,

the stopwatch set at an hour and 23 minutes, and what happened to the gun.

And you think that they know something they haven't told us?

Yes, I do.

OK, what's the plan?

I don't have one.

Mrs Knight, I wonder if we might ask you a few more questions.

Megan left some things, I've boxed them up in case they're needed.

-How very efficient of you.

-I try.

Though efficiency must be second nature to you, in your line of work.

-Public relations, isn't it?

-You've been doing your homework, Inspector.

It's second nature to me, I'm afraid.

I've just lost a very dear friend

and his wife has confessed to his murder. Keeping busy helps to keep my mind off that.

-Of course. Though I have to admit, I do find it intriguing.

-What is?

Well, should Mrs Talbot have contacted you, how you might have advised her...

-in your professional capacity.

-Are you suggesting that's what happened?

-You tell me.

-I'm very good at what I do.

-I'm sure you are.

So, if someone came and told me they'd murdered their husband,

I very much doubt my advice would be to go and confess all to the police.

Can I get you some tea?

That would be very nice, thank you.

That sounded very much like you were accusing my wife of something.

Really? I'm terribly sorry, that wasn't my intention.

(What are you doing?)

(You and that button.)

(You keep them talking.)

No, no, no, no, YOU keep them talking. I'll check the buttons.

Your colleague has been a long time in the bathroom.

-I'm sure she's fine.

-Perhaps I should check.

You know, this tea is a splendid colour!

I'll be honest with you, I've had a lot of, er, difficulty with tea on Saint-Marie.

Real difficulty.

I don't know what it is...

..it just doesn't spank the palette as it should. Have you found that?

-I really think we should go and see if she's all right...

-As I say, an excellent colour.

Sandy. Golden. Nice oranges coming through there.

Do you mind?

Oooh...

And, er, the real clincher, of course,

is the taste.

Oh, er, no, that's awful...sorry... No, wait...

-What on earth are you doing?

-Is this not Mrs Talbot's room?

No, it's not. And even if it was, you need permission to conduct a search.

-I know the law, inside out.

-You're right. We do.

I must ask you to leave.

Had you had the decency to ask,

I'm sure we would have been happy to show you anything you wanted.

Then, er, can I ask what you and Mr Talbot were arguing about outside the restaurant last night?

He was drunk, I was trying to convince him to go home.

-By punching him?

-It got out of hand.

Mr Talbot had serious financial difficulties.

-Were you aware of them?

-No.

So you were his friends, yet he didn't share his financial concerns?

-Well...

-Lucas was a very proud man.

If he'd have asked, I'd have helped him. But he didn't.

Why are you asking all these questions, Inspector? It's as though we're under suspicion.

-Why would you think that?

-We've already told you everything we know, yet here you are again.

-It's my job.

-You take it very seriously, don't you?

Is that what the British police do with the nasty ones these days?

Post them overseas? Were you a bit of a bully back in the UK?

One thing I am not, madam, is a bully.

Then perhaps you will leave us alone to grieve over our dear friend in peace.

I wouldn't like to get the wrong side of her.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Call Dwayne, have him and Fidel watch the house.

-You're not going to eat that there, are you?

-Juliette made it for me.

Slow-releasing carbs are what's needed for a long stakeout.

I should've asked her to pack some doughnuts for afters.

That's what you eat on a stakeout, isn't it? Doughnuts?

All I've got is a yoghurt. Not the same, really, is it?

We could go and get some doughnuts, I suppose.

ENGINE REVS

I was joking, forget the doughnuts, what if they move while we're gone?

What?

Oh...

You know, even if Astrid and Patrick are involved somehow,

Megan Talbot still shot her husband. She'll still go to prison.

She seems so...fragile, I'm not sure she'll cope.

Not our concern.

-No. No, no, no.

-You want her to be innocent

because you like her, but it doesn't work that way.

She was beaten by her husband. It just seems....unfair.

Yes, it is.

I'm sorry I teased you about her. I don't really think you fancy her.

Or do you?

No.

Yeah, that's lovely, huh?

What, the boat? It's just painted firewood.

Poor old boaty. I bet it had one tiny hole

and it lay here waiting for its owner to come and fix it up

but it never happened.

It's just a rotten old rowing boat. Don't anthropomorphise it.

It hasn't actually got any feelings.

-It's got more than you. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't...

-It's OK.

Look, I've got some stuff to read.

You sure she's not in there?

Sorry.

Oh, you know that Dwayne saw someone parked near the beach where the body was supposed to be?

-No...

-A local small-time thief called Greg Collins.

So I thought I might drive there on my way home,

see if anyone's parked there.

-Be careful.

-I will. Good night, sir.

Good night, Camille.

-Why did she stop there?

-I don't know.

-She dumped something.

-Get sifting.

-I always have to go through the rubbish.

Isn't it your turn to get stinky?

Imagine if you find a gun or something?

The inspector will be really impressed.

We've been through it all three times. No gun.

Nothing suspicious at all. PHONE RINGS

Hello? Camille?

Camille?

-Come and have a look at this.

-Are you all right?

-A couple of bruises,

-it's my own fault. I should have called for back-up.

-Did you see who it was?

No, but it was the same pickup truck

so Dwayne is sure it was Greg Collins and he was in a hurry to leave.

I found this by one of the holes.

If he was fishing, why would he run?

Huh? Bubble wrap?

Are the maggots especially fragile over here?

What is it?

Two stakeouts in one night.

-Which one are you having, Dwayne?

-Greg.

OK, I'll take the money man when he gets here.

-I'll seize the merchandise.

-Great, and I'll, I'll, er...

-What am I going to do?

-Back-up.

-Back-up? Great.

-OK.

-You do Greg, I'll do back-up.

-No, no. Greg's yours.

We're on!

OK, get into positions.

-Wait until he takes the cash.

-OK.

-Stop right there! Police!

-Come on, Gregory, give it up.

-Go away.

-Seriously, this is a big misunderstanding.

-Hmm.

Hawksbill turtle eggs.

You should be ashamed of yourselves.

-I didn't know if you took sugar, so I, er...

-Thank you.

-That's very kind of you.

-We should be able to get your bail sorted today.

-Three sugars.

-Out!

Endangerment and theft of a protected species.

-Assault on a police officer.

-Oh, that was an accident.

-It's still assault.

-And with your history. Should be good for what? Three years?

-Easy.

-So what do you want?

-The beach where you assaulted Sergeant Bordey,

-there was a shooting there two nights ago.

-Is that right?

You were parked there when it took place.

-You've got me mixed up with someone else.

-So you weren't there?

-No.

OK, fine, see you in three years.

OK, OK.

I'll take the fine for the eggs, you drop the assault thing.

What do we get in return?

I think you WERE there,

I think you saw a man and a woman pass you on the way to the beach.

-The question is, did you see anyone else?

-No, there was no-one else.

-Take his statement, would you?

-But I saw the woman, the one in the cell.

Shooting the guy.

-Lucas!

-'I was digging when I heard voices.

'I panicked and ran, not realising I had dropped my gun.'

-Lucas!

-HE YELLS, SHE SCREAMS

'He went to pick her up but she clumped him with a rock.

-'Picked up the gun...'

-'And?'

GUNSHOT

Shot him. Dead!

Well, what did she do with the gun?

-I don't know, I legged it back to the van.

-And you didn't report this because...?

It was my gun, wasn't it? I mean, I only used it for rats and rabbits. But it was still mine.

I went back in the morning to see if it was still there.

But there was nothing, no gun and no body. That's when Dwayne moved me on.

Autopsy report's in, Chief.

Ohh... Go on.

Bullet to the head was fatal, er, blood showed high levels of alcohol.

Oh, and the other injury wasn't propeller damage,

it was the second bullet.

Bounced off his skull.

Two shots.

Just like she said. We also know where the gun came from

and now we've got an eyewitness to add to the confession.

-No more room for doubt.

-No.

-Cheers!

-Cheers.

-OK, the button was just flotsam from the water.

-OK.

-The gun is in the sea somewhere.

-Yeah. Maybe.

-And the stopwatch was unrelated.

-Yeah.

-And so no more mystery.

-No.

-And, er, will you wait for her?

-Camille...

20 years, it's a long time. I mean, you're a man, you've got needs. She'll understand, I'm sure.

-There is one thing.

-What?

-Who's the best marksman out of you three?

OK, if Greg Collin's statement is right,

Megan was around 12 feet from Lucas Talbot when she shot him.

In your own time.

-The two shots hit less than two inches apart.

-Easy.

-Good. Now close your eyes.

-What, why?

In Megan's statement, she had both her eyes tightly shut.

Her hands were shaking too, but we'll ignore that for the time being.

When you're ready!

Strange...

Megan Talbot,

despite never having fired a gun before, having both eyes shut and hands shaking,

fired two shots which hit inches apart from the same distance.

Dwayne, are we missing something?

Was Mrs Talbot a Navy SEAL or an MI5 agent?

-No, Chief.

-I thought not.

Anyone know where this leads?

It's a hiking trail into the woods. I don't think it goes anywhere.

Follow it for a bit. See what you find on the way.

Based on all the accounts we've heard,

I still don't understand why we haven't found the gun.

We went over the whole area with a metal detector.

-We couldn't find anything.

-Yeah. Because it was never here.

Because it was moved. Because someone took it. But why? Who?

And the damned button!

I need to get back to the station.

If people only knew!

GUNSHOT

What's happened?

'Can someone help me?'

Lucas!

'It's my husband...'

He's dead.

I shot him.

OK...

What is it?

Why is the most obvious thing always the hardest to see?

What?!

-Dwayne, come in.

-I'm here, go ahead.

Tell the chief I've found where the trail leads. He'll never guess.

-'The Knight House.'

-How did he do that?

'OK, he probably knows they're getting ready to leave.'

-Unlock Mrs Talbot.

-Why?

-Put her in the car.

Tell Fidel to meet us at the house.

-And I need you to go and collect something.

-Fidel.

-You've got it, haven't you?

-Not exactly.

But you know why?

Not fully.

But at least we know how.

Oh, yeah, I know how.

Well, partly.

-Come on.

-I'm coming!

-What did you put in this?

Oh, for God's sake, stop fannying about, just put them in the car!

Excuse me, can I help you? Excuse me?

What are you doing?

Starting with the corners.

Richard?

Richard? Richard?!

Of course, of course, of course, of course!

-Of course what?

-We've been advised by our lawyers to ask you to leave the premises.

We won't be long.

I just need a few minutes of your time.

-Why is SHE here?

-Excellent question.

Mr Knight, would you mind passing that phone to Mrs Talbot?

It's mine.

I lost it a few days ago.

-The day you shot your husband?

-Yes.

-May I?

We, er, found it on the victim's body

after we pulled him out of the sea,

so we of course assumed it was his.

But once we could turn it on, we saw that the screensaver was in fact a photograph of Mr Talbot,

which, unless he was extremely vain, meant it much more likely the phone belonged to his wife.

But why would he have his wife's phone?

Oh, you know, I usually enjoy this part, but, er,

I have to confess to feeling slightly uneasy.

I know how valuable friendship is, and marriage too.

I don't want to, er, wreck one without good reason.

So, Mr Knight, if you could confess to killing Mr Talbot, that would be great.

-What?

-And Mrs Knight, if you could confess to covering it up,

that would be most appreciated.

-Go on. It'll be much easier.

-I suggest you leave right now.

I will be making a formal complaint to your senior officer.

You know full well Megan admitted to killing Lucas on the beach.

But Lucas wasn't dead... on the beach. Not dead.

The wound on the side of his head that we thought

was caused by a propeller strike was one of two shots Megan took.

-That gun's not even...

-'The bullet skimmed his head. It was enough to drop him to the floor.'

Enough to cause substantial blood flow to make him lose consciousness. But it wasn't enough to kill him.

The second shot missed. You shot your husband, Mrs Talbot.

-As my colleagues pointed out all along, that's irrefutable. But you didn't kill him.

-What?

So let's ask ourselves, what would a man like this do in such a situation?

'Waking up with the mother of all headaches,

'would he go to the police to tell them he'd been shot,

'seek justice in the correct way?

'Or, would he seek revenge?

'It was a long hike. Especially injured and disoriented.

'I imagine it took him several hours to make his way through the woods but eventually,

'he arrived here, on your lawn.'

'Aren't you forgetting something?'

Am I?

You seem to be accusing me of killing Lucas,

but I spent the night in one of your cells.

Oh, yes, I was coming to that. You see, windows of opportunity can be large or small.

Yours was tiny.

Your window began when you arrived home after we released you and you saw Lucas Talbot.

For reasons we shall come to, this sight terrified you.

HE PANTS: Megan, Megan... left me for dead.

Patrick, help me.

'Patrick, is that you?

'Patrick? Patrick!'

GUNSHOT

This was the fatal wound that we found on the body.

From the same gun, but fired by Mr Knight, not by Mrs Talbot.

I'm sure that Mr Knight concocted some kind of story to explain why Lucas attacked him?

What was it?

He, er, begged you for money, you refused, he threatened to kill you?

But your next problem, was that having just killed Lucas,

there were two police officers at your door.

Right, get him in the shed.

'This is when Mrs Knight's professional instinct kicked in to action.

'The queen of the cover-up got to work, while Patrick hid the body and cleaned the mattress.'

-Where on earth have you been? And where's Lucas?

-Mrs Knight? Detective Inspector Richard Poole.

This is Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey. Honore police.

-May we come in?

-Of course.

Patrick, darling, it's the police.

-You have a very vivid imagination.

-It's the only explanation that fits the facts.

-Good luck getting a jury to agree with you.

-Obviously I have evidence.

It was the first thing you took out of the dumpster, Fidel.

Only we didn't know it.

Not from an item of clothing. It's a stud.

Torn from the sunbed when Mr Knight dragged Mr Talbot's corpse off.

Once I knew where the button came from,

it was clear that Mr Talbot couldn't have died on the beach.

And as the watch snagged on the button, it started the stop watch function.

-Exactly.

-We arrived here at 9:30am,

and I turned off the stopwatch

-at 10:53am...an hour and 23 minutes.

-The time it took for you

to load the body into your car and drive it down to somewhere secluded enough to dump it into the sea.

No doubt throwing the gun in after it, which explains why it was never found.

-This is a joke.

-I'm afraid not.

You see, I've established means and opportunity. Everything fits.

Which brings me back to motive.

You see, reports of Mr Talbot drinking on the night of his death,

all said that he was busy texting on his mobile phone.

Which isn't strictly true on two counts. Firstly,

he was READING text messages, and secondly, it wasn't his phone, remember?

It was his wife's.

There's an exchange of texts, quite graphic texts, in fact,

between Mrs Talbot and her lover.

There's no name, there's just a number.

That's why I wanted Mrs Talbot here,

so we could see her and Mr Knight together.

Because they were your texts, weren't they, Mr Knight?

You were having an affair with Mrs Talbot.

That phone is dead! It was in the sea. This is all bluff.

You're trying to stand up to a bigger man than yourself, Inspector, and you'll fail.

In a bar, you could intimidate me, Mr Knight. But here, no.

You stupid bastard!

Mr Talbot discovered the affair after looking at his wife's mobile phone.

He was drinking that night so he could get Dutch courage to confront you both.

And he was threatening to go back into the restaurant

to tell your wife - that's why you were punching him.

And that what your argument on the beach was about, wasn't it?

Little mousey Megan.

If people only knew!

You couldn't afford to have your affair exposed, could you? Not yet.

Not whilst your wife was in the process of financing your new company.

So the woman who prides herself on being in the know,

on being in control and orchestrating things,

was the one person in this entire sordid affair that didn't know the truth.

You killed my best friend so you could steal his wife and MY money!

Shut up!

They can't prove any of this, our lawyers will tear them to shreds.

MY lawyers, and they'll do nothing of the kind.

Well, you'll go down, too! You helped me.

A loyal wife trying to protect her philandering husband? I think I can work with that.

Megan... You didn't kill your husband.

But the truth is, you were far from innocent.

The texts on here are all jumbled, I can't read them.

-Really?

-You bluffed him!

Bullies always crumble when you stand your ground.

I learned that one the hard way.

-So it's over now?

-Absolutely.

-Did you fancy her?

-No. She's not my type.

Oh? What is your type?

To be honest, I've never quite worked that out,

but I suspect the women who shoot you in the head aren't too high up the list.

Yes!

Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes!

KNOCKING Sir. Sir!

One knock will suffice, thank you!

What do you think?

Well, I like the way you've painted it one colour

instead of the 15 colours things have to be painted over here.

-Are you going to give her a test?

-What, out there? In the sea?

-No, no.

On the road.

Come on!

So what do you think of the name?

Perfect.

Voila!

-Shouldn't this be champagne?

-On MY wages?

Very well, I name this boat...

Actually, it's probably not a good idea to spread glass on the beach.

Er, Fidel?

I name this boat Roast Beef.

May God bless her and all who sail in her.

THEY CLAP

It's OK. It's OK.

-You can relax now.

-Don't push me!

-I am just trying to get you a drink!

-Sorry.

That's what always used to happen at school.

You're not at school anymore.

You're here, on Saint-Marie with some friends.

Colleagues, predominantly, but I take your point.

-Cheers.

-Cheers!

-Cheers!

You know, strictly speaking, if we were to trace the path of the fishing boat,

we should be able to locate the murder weapon. Sorry.

-Can we just have our drinks now?

-Why not?

Live a little, that's what I say. Well, just a little, mind you.

You don't want to go mad.

He's officially in your custody.

Nobody move!

He's been murdered while handcuffed

to one of our murder detectives!

-You didn't see who it was?

-You owe me 50 grand.

Sex and money.

This time, it's personal.

-That's her!

-Wait!

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