Episode 8 Death in Paradise

MUSIC PLAYS

I really should be going soon, Juliet will start to worry.

-And how long has she got to go?

-Two weeks.

-Ah.

You know, my mother said first babies are always late.

We'll see.

How's things going with your new step daddy?

-Not funny, Dwayne. They're just friends.

-Yeah, right!

-Dwayne, no!

-One more.

I'm in trouble.

Right, 15 across, "Essence of Eastern book,

"about Greek character?"

Any ideas?

No, me neither.

Bonsoir.

Hi.

Where are you from? What do you do?

How about you first?

HE LAUGHS

You'll never guess.

Hmm, I thought maybe a postman?

THEY LAUGH

-This is me.

-Oh, nice.

Thank you for walking me home.

DOG BARKS

You want to come in for coffee?

You're late.

And good morning to you, too.

Well, that's not fair.

-Excuse me?

-I agreed to do small talk, particularly in the mornings,

but that doesn't mean I can't point out when you're late.

I'm late because there's been a murder.

Up in the hills.

-So, what do we know?

-Not much.

Nadia Selim, 30 years old.

Lived at this address for a little under two years.

DOG BARKS

Quiet, Harry! Quiet! These are friends.

Sorry, he's Nadia's dog and he's very distressed. Come here.

And, er, you are?

Georgie Westcott, I live across there.

-You're the lady who made the call?

-Yes.

Well, erm, Nadia and I travel in to work together, every morning.

But this morning she was late, which isn't like her, erm,

and I rang, and...

when there was no answer,

I used my spare key and went in, and...that's when I found her.

Hey, I've found the bedroom.

You know, where the body is?

You're worried the furniture's not straight?

Yeah.

Your neighbour's late for picking you up.

Do you really use your spare key to enter her house?

Why would she have coins stuffed in her mouth?

-Sir?

-That's interesting.

I've got a body up here and somebody has stuffed coins in her mouth.

What have you got that's SO interesting?

Dwayne's police shield.

Dwayne's outside.

Sir, the medics want to know about moving the body.

I'll, erm, go and talk to them, Fidel.

-Photograph the scene for me, if you would.

-Yes sir.

Can you tell us how your shield ended up at a murder scene?

I only met her last night.

So what happened?

When we finished last night, we all went for a drink.

-"We all" being...?

-Me, Fidel and Camille.

I see.

You didn't invite anyone else?

No.

Or think to invite anyone else?

Never mind. Carry on.

We had something to eat, a few beers, some rum.

Then I met her, Nadia, outside the bar.

Bonsoir.

We talked, sort of hit it off, you know. She said she wanted to go for a walk.

She was very pretty. In the end, I walked her all the way home.

-What time was this?

-About ten.

-You want to come in for coffee?

That, erm, mark on your neck, how did you get it?

We were messing around.

She asked me to teach her some self-defence moves.

-You mean, you slept with her?

-No!

Like I said, I was showing her some moves.

She said she was nervous about walking home alone.

OK...

..we had a bit of a cuddle.

-Just a cuddle?

-Yes.

And after your "cuddle"?

I left just after midnight.

You didn't see anyone on the way home?

No.

And when you left, the victim was alive and well?

-Yes.

-What kind of question is that?!

The kind you ask a witness in a murder enquiry.

-No, this is Dwayne.

-He's still a witness.

-You just asked him if he killed her!

-No, I didn't.

-You asked if she was still alive when he left!

-Look, it's OK.

I know you have to ask me this stuff.

It's procedure, right?

I've got photos, sir.

Thank you, Fidel. Right, I want door-to-door enquiries,

start taking statements from all the neighbours.

Anyone who knew her,

-particularly if anyone saw her or anyone else last night.

-Yes, sir.

-Not you, Dwayne.

-Chief?

You're a witness, possibly the last person to see the victim alive.

I can't have you asking people questions.

-Why not?

-Because if he asks them whether they saw the victim with anyone last night

and they say, "Yes, Officer, with you,"

it muddies the water just a little, don't you think?

Go back to the station and write up your statement.

Yes, Chief.

-What?

-Fidel, go and start talking to the neighbours.

Please tell me you don't believe Dwayne is involved in this!

-He's the last person to see her alive.

-Apart from the killer!

-He has a scratch mark on his neck he admits came from the victim.

-He explained that.

-I'm doing things by the book, Camille.

-I don't care about your book!

I want to know if you think Dwayne killed this girl, yes or no?

Based purely on my knowledge of Dwayne

and the fact everything points to this being premeditated,

while Dwayne met her hours before she was killed,

making it difficult to corroborate premeditation, I'd say that, on balance, it's unlikely.

Was that yes or no?

-No!

-Good!

-Although, that doesn't mean he didn't do it.

Look, we owe it to the victim to conduct a thorough investigation.

-Why are you so grumpy?

-I'm not grumpy.

-Yes, you are.

-I'm doing my job.

-Then stop talking about Dwayne and find the killer.

-There's a connection.

Dwayne left his badge behind, so he must have been in uniform, right?

-Yes.

-OK. So you're a girl in a bar, fine.

So you invite a policeman back to your house, fine.

But then you're killed the moment he leaves? It's connected. It has to be.

OK, erm, but why?

At risk of being called grumpy again, that's what I intend to find out!

-All right?

-Morning, sir.

Is that right, someone was killed down there last night?

-Yes, do you live here?

-Me?

Oh, no, no. I was just passing, I saw all the commotion.

-I heard it was a young woman?

-If you'll excuse me.

-Burglar, was it?

-I'm sorry, I can't discuss that with you.

This is about last night, isn't it?

-What?

-Why you're being so grumpy.

-Don't know what you mean.

-Because we all went for a drink...

-No, no, no, not "we all", just you three.

-I knew that's what it was.

-OK, look...

-Discovering the words "we all" doesn't seem to include me...

a little bit chastening, that's all.

How can it include you? You never come out for a drink!

-You never ask me.

-Oh no, no, no, no.

We stopped asking, it's different.

And you tell me, who's more rude - the person who stops asking,

or the person who never once said yes?

OK, I'm sorry I snapped. You're just so...

"So" what?

-..English.

-And you're very French.

Now can we please get on with the task in hand?

Why did the killer fill her mouth with money?

Repaying a debt?

Looks like asphyxiation. No other sign of trauma, as far as I can see.

It doesn't make sense.

-Hmm?

-Are you even listening to me?

Why are these drawers sticking out?

OK, so she's murdered, coins symbolically placed into her mouth,

but you're still on the furniture, aren't you?

"Nadia Selim, Finance Director, JIT Shipping."

-You ever heard of JIT Shipping?

-No.

So, go on, then. What's so interesting about the furniture?

I think that after Nadia was killed, the house was searched, thoroughly.

This cushion was unzipped,

this cover wasn't straight,

the corner of this carpet's folded over,

the books aren't quite flat against the shelves.

Everything's been checked and put back,

done so you almost wouldn't notice,

unless you knew what you were looking for.

OK. So the killer was looking for something, that's good.

No, it's not good. It's illogical.

The smashed glass, the lamp knocked over, suggest she was in her bed.

She lashed out, but she was suffocated before she could do anything.

What's illogical about that?

Well, she was killed first, then the house was searched.

Why not keep your victim alive,

so she can tell you where to find what you're looking for?

As I said, it's illogical.

So what did Nadia have in her house that was worth killing over?

And did the killer find it?

Were any of these windows open?

No.

-Or have they been forced in any way?

-Not as far as we can see.

No sign of a break-in, either.

So how did the killer get in?

Maybe the victim opened the door? But why would she? It was past midnight.

The neighbour had a key.

DOG GROWLS

(Shh, good boy.)

Questions?

Any order.

Do we really believe the neighbour let herself in

-just because the victim was late for work?

-Agreed.

How did the killer get inside without breaking any locks?

Why did he fill the victim's mouth with coins?

What was he looking for when he searched the house?

Why did he kill her before he started looking?

And, having killed her, did he find what he was looking for?

And is her death in any way linked to her taking home a policeman?

Ah, Fidel. What did the neighbours say?

Not very much. It seems the victim kept herself to herself, didn't really socialise.

-And last night?

-Two of them heard her dog barking around ten.

-That must have been her and Dwayne arriving at the house.

-But no-one saw or heard anything suspicious.

Those that knew her say she was a nice lady, and they can't think why anyone would want to harm her.

Yet someone did.

Where next?

I'm Jon Taylor, I own the company.

Thank you for seeing us.

No, anything that can help catch Nadia's killer.

I couldn't believe it when I heard.

-It's hit everybody here very hard.

-Of course.

What line of business are you in, Mr Taylor?

Import, export.

-Throughout the Caribbean, USA and Europe.

-What sort of goods?

Well, whatever I can make a profit on.

I understand Nadia was your finance director?

That's right.

Is that her desk?

Yes.

Mind if I take a look?

Nadia dealt with our finances.

But her real skill was finding loopholes in tax regimes.

She could get a subsidy in one country by taking goods out of it

and a rebate in another by bringing them in.

How long did she work for you?

A couple of years.

I don't know how we're going to get on without her.

Did she owe you money?

Sorry, why?

Or have any debts elsewhere?

No, I...I don't think she even had a credit card.

She didn't approve of debt.

What about her next-door neighbour?

Georgie Westcott. She also works with you?

That's right, Georgie's my PA.

And how did Nadia and she get on?

Yes?

Georgie...

..I think she felt a little overshadowed when Nadia arrived.

Jealous, even.

Nadia really was a remarkable woman.

So, they didn't get on?

They weren't natural friends,

and Nadia could be withering if she felt you weren't pulling your weight.

Can I ask where you were last night?

I was at home.

All night?

Yes.

Anyone with you?

No, I live alone.

So, you're not married, or in a relationship?

No.

Anything?

Is this her personal laptop?

Yes.

I'm sorry, I can't allow that.

-Why's that?

-It's got sensitive information on it.

-We're used to handling sensitive information.

-That may well be,

-but the computer belongs to the company and...

-Would you rather we got a warrant and took it by force?

So, this is where you've been hiding.

-Can I get you something?

-No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine.

I'm just admiring the view.

You can join me, though.

I can see why you don't want to leave here.

I haven't travelled much, not really, you know.

But I can't imagine many places in the world more beautiful than this.

Hmm, the Caribbean is very seductive.

That's why I stay here.

Well, I realise that if we are going to be together,

it's going to have to be here.

Yes.

Yes, yes. It's a very big step, you know,

leaving everything you know and starting a new life.

-I'd never ask you to do that.

-Oh...

so you don't want me to stay?

That's not what I said.

-I'm just a holiday romance you'll forget about the second I leave?

-No!

So you do want me to stay?

It's a decision only you can make.

Let's walk.

Whether or not he killed Nadia, Jon Taylor is hiding something.

I'll start with checking Nadia's laptop.

-Here's my statement, Chief.

-Thank you.

Dwayne...

-..do I need to read this?

-Chief?

Does it say anything other than you met her in the bar,

walked her home, taught her self-defence moves,

during which you sustained a small injury,

-then gave her a bit of a "cuddle" before leaving around midnight?

-No, Chief.

You didn't argue, or asphyxiate her, or fill her mouth with loose change?

Of course I didn't.

-Then I'm eliminating you from our inquiries.

-What about procedure?

We work better as a team, so start by looking at the files

and seeing if we've got anything previous on Nadia Selim or JIT Shipping.

Thanks, Chief.

I'm on it.

You see, what kind of name is Selim?

It sounds Turkish or Middle Eastern.

According to this, you were right. Selim is Arabic, it means "safe".

There were 26 coins in all, not even three dollars.

Hmm, hardly a debt repaid.

Which leaves us with it being symbolic, a message to someone.

But who?

Only one thing on file, Chief.

About five weeks ago, one of the victim's neighbours made an official complaint

-about her dog barking.

-I thought it looked vicious.

It's a beautiful dog.

Until it takes your arm off.

Who made the complaint?

Er, a Jacko Gardiner.

-I interviewed him this morning.

-And?

He complained about the dog again, but other than that he said that...

he didn't see or hear anything and he didn't know the victim particularly well.

Well enough to make a complaint about her.

You're not going to kill someone because their dog barks too much.

Hmm. I once investigated a murder where a husband killed a wife

cos she refused to pass him the TV remote control.

Yeah, that is annoying.

And, at the moment, if we're ruling you out,

it's all we've got.

That's interesting.

Hmm.

Hmm.

-You know what's funny?

-What?

-I get it.

-What?

Barking dogs, neighbours snitching on one another, vendettas.

I may have been transplanted a few thousand miles, surrounded by jungle and,

erm, that is quite clearly a goat crossing the road even as I speak...

but I recognise this place.

This...

is suburbia.

Your version of it perhaps, but, er, suburbia.

(These are my people.)

What you want?

Mr Gardiner, could we have a quick word?

I understand you made a formal complaint against your neighbour, Nadia Selim.

That dog of hers should be shot.

-Right.

-Because?

It's vicious. She didn't control it, she let it run wild.

It's a danger to others, and it bark day and night.

The postman turn up, it bark.

Somebody walk past, it bark.

-And you heard it last night?

-Yes, I did,

just as I was getting into my bath.

And what time was that?

Like I told the boy you sent earlier, ten o'clock.

I always take my bath at ten o'clock.

Did you ever argue with Miss Selim about her dog? Go to her house?

-No.

-You never went to her house last night?

-No!

-After midnight?

-I said no, didn't I?!

-Have you seen anyone in the area recently you don't know?

-Yeah.

-Good, who?

-You two.

Is that it?

Yeah, well, erm...

..we may be back.

"My people."

-Wait...

-What?

-The statements taken by Fidel, did you read them?

-Yes.

Well, some of them, including Mr Gardiner,

reported the dog barking at or around 10pm.

When we think she and Dwayne arrived at the house.

Exactly. But none of them mentioned anything about it barking later.

Why not? I mean, the killer must have arrived after Dwayne left.

It's past midnight, someone arrives at the house,

possibly breaking in somehow.

Why didn't the dog, that seemingly barks at everything, bark?

-You're right, it doesn't make any sense.

-No.

The curious incident of the dog who didn't bark in the night.

Sorry?

Never mind. Another question.

-What?

-When Fidel went to interview Georgie Westcott, there was no answer,

so why is she now watching us from behind her net curtains?

Hello?

Hello?

Why were you watching us?

I wasn't.

Not really.

An officer came to your door this morning, but you didn't answer. Why was that?

I must have been out, walking Harry.

Sorry.

Do you mind if we, erm...?

Yep.

It's good of you to look after Miss Selim's dog.

He's not a nuisance for you at all?

Of course not.

We had a pact. If anything happened to me, Nadia would look after my cat,

and if anything happened to her...

You have a cat?

She's in hiding.

She doesn't much like Harry. Well, dogs in general.

We went to see your employer, Mr Taylor.

-You are his personal assistant, is that right?

-Yes.

And you don't seem very happy about it.

He's...

What?

-..a bit of a lech.

-Excuse me?

First it was me, that was bad enough.

But all that changed when Nadia came along.

He fell for her hook, line and sinker.

He'd send her inappropriate e-mails,

and when he talked to her, you could tell he was...

You know.

No, what?

Undressing her with his eyes.

-Why did Nadia put up with it?

-She said it was nothing compared to what she'd put up with in the past.

-Oh?

-I assumed she had boyfriend trouble,

but she never really talked about it.

Whenever I tried to talk to her about her past,

she'd stick her head in one of her crosswords and pretend she wasn't listening.

Look...

..I didn't know whether to give you this,

whether I'd be betraying her. But...

I suppose I should.

Give us what?

Yesterday, she seemed really on edge.

She brought me this envelope, asked if I'd look after it for a few days.

That's why you went into her house this morning?

You were already worried about her, weren't you?

What is it?

Looks like an emergency escape plan. Money and an Antiguan passport.

But what would she be planning to escape from?

Ooh, what's that?

A vet's bill.

Why would she keep a vet's bill that's two years old?

Knowing how much Nadia loved Harry,

it was to let me know the name of his vet.

Miss Westcott, have you ever heard the name Rose Duchamp?

No, why?

Because according to this passport, that was Nadia's name.

-So, who was Rose Duchamp? Watch...watch out.

-Ow!

And why was she living on Saint-Marie under a false name?

OK, run the passport through the computer, see if it's real or not.

-I'm on it.

-What's this, Chief?

Looks like Nadia Selim could be a fake identity.

Fidel, did you speak to any witnesses

-who heard the victim's dog barking after midnight?

-No.

As far as I can make out, he only barks at strangers.

He didn't bark when we went to see Georgie Westcott just now,

cos he'd seen us once today already.

-He barked at me last night.

-That's the point, you were a stranger.

So why didn't he bark at the killer?

Precisely.

The dog must've known the killer. A friend, or a neighbour.

Unless you've got a better explanation?

Well, I've been through her laptop, nothing special, photo and music files...

and some racy e-mails from someone called Big John.

Her employer.

Well, I tell you, some of them even made me blush.

OK, that's weird.

Her passport's authentic,

she is Rose Duchamp from Antigua.

But her details are on an intelligence list

and there's a number we've got to ring if we have any information about her whereabouts.

-Who's flagged it?

-Er, SOCA. Who are SOCA?

SOCA...

the Serious Organised Crime Agency, based in London.

But why would they be interested in a finance director from the Caribbean?

This is Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey

calling from the Honore Police Station on Saint-Marie.

We've got some information about Rose Duchamp and...

Er, yes, I'll hold.

-So what do this SOCA do, exactly?

-Serious crime.

The mafia, Eastern European gangs.

And if she's involved in serious crime,

it explains why she left Antigua in a hurry

and why she's been here under a false name.

Until yesterday, when her past may well have caught up with her.

Um...OK.

Well?

They said they wouldn't tell me anything over the phone.

That's, erm, a little patronising.

And they've got a case officer on the island already.

What? There's someone already here? Who?

DI Chris Ricketts. Sorry I haven't come forward sooner,

I just wanted to take stock of everything, see what was what.

-So, how long have you been here?

-I arrived two days ago.

Two days? How's London?

Winter's just settling in, you can smell the damp leaves,

see people's breath.

Ah, it's really cold, is it?

It was bitter the morning that I left.

The grass stiff with white frost, you could feel it crunching underfoot.

It's not like this inferno.

-What season's this?

-Oh, they don't have seasons.

-What?

-They don't have seasons, it's this hot all year round,

January to December.

How can you have a year without seasons?

-When do the leaves fall off?

-They don't.

Excuse me, we've got a case to discuss, remember?

Ah, yes, yeah, we were getting to that. It's, uh...

Well, you know, good manners to exchange pleasantries first.

-(Camille's French.)

-(Ah.)

So, to business.

Right. Well, two years ago,

a woman contacted us anonymously from Antigua,

saying she had information about a money-laundering ring,

but didn't know what to do with it.

-This was Nadia?

-Who?

-Oh, I'm sorry, Rose Duchamp?

-That's right.

She'd got involved with a guy who turned out to be a money launderer, quite a big player.

She admitted she'd stolen files from her boyfriend that could blow the ring sky high.

-So what went wrong?

-Well, somebody got to her.

They must've frightened the living daylights out of her,

because she just disappeared, vanished into thin air.

That was, until two days ago,

when she called me out the blue.

This man, the one she was going to tell you about, you think he found her?

She rang off before she could say where she was, so we put a trace on the call.

My boss put me on a plane, and, well, here I am.

-So, she never gave you the information?

-No.

You've, you've not found anything, have you?

Files? Notebooks? CD? Laptop, even?

No. We, er, we checked her work laptop,

but, er, just music, some inappropriate e-mails from her boss.

-We're also pretty sure her house was searched after she was murdered.

-That's it?

Whoever killed her probably took the information she was holding.

Well, we can't be sure. But it's certainly a reasonable assumption.

Well, the ex-boyfriend has to be the murderer!

Has there never been anyone else, since you've been here?

Oh, the occasional holiday romance. Nothing serious.

And was that out of choice, or just how things turned out?

I don't know.

Maybe bite-size pieces of romance are easier to digest at my age.

Besides, I enjoy my own company. I have lots of friends.

So there's, er, nothing you miss about being a couple?

Sometimes.

When I see something funny, or read something in the newspapers,

I turn to tell someone, but there's no-one there.

For me, it's always the mornings.

I'm still putting two cups on the table, still putting four slices of bread in the toaster.

That's nothing to do with being lonely,

that's just going senile.

THEY LAUGH

-I'm sorry.

-Don't be. You're probably right.

Has anybody ever told you how extraordinary you are?

Oh, it's what everyone says.

To be honest, I'm starting to find it a little tedious.

Ah, Fidel. Where's Dwayne?

Chief?

This is DI Chris Ricketts from SOCA in London.

-Yeah, I saw you this morning.

-Yeah, sorry about that.

Autopsy report's in, sir. Death by asphyxiation.

Embedded fibres seem to confirm the pillow was used.

Bruising suggests a knee or forearm was used to hold her down,

and there were more coins found lodged in her throat.

Four, to be precise, I'd imagine.

Yes.

This your girl?

That's her.

Right, as we know, the victim's real name was Rose Duchamp,

and it seems her killer was a man from her past.

We think he's based in Antigua, part of a money-laundering ring worth...?

Hundreds of millions of dollars.

Rose had information that could have put this man behind bars

and she called London after two years of living a new life, a new identity.

-Why?

-She was in fear of her life. You think she saw him?

-Do we have any description of this man?

-Nothing.

And even if we did, I doubt it would help.

Why not?

For two years, this guy's been one step ahead of us.

IF he killed Rose Duchamp in the early hours of this morning,

he's probably left the island by now.

Not necessarily.

Look, you don't get it, the man is a ghost.

We don't know what he looks like, what he's called,

and the only person who could positively identify him

-was murdered this morning.

-He's almost certainly still on the island.

-He's a professional! He's not going to hang around.

-That's why he will.

Only an amateur would try and leave within hours of the murder taking place,

thereby drawing attention to himself.

No, he's still here.

-That's why this case has never really got started.

-What?

There was no traction.

No-one who quite hit the spot...

because the killer's a professional.

-But we don't even know who we're looking for!

-Ah, but we do.

We may not know his name or what he looks like,

but we know why he killed Rose Duchamp,

we know how, and we know when.

We also know he's still on the island.

Which means, quite possibly for the first time,

we're one step ahead of him.

DI Ricketts, can you give us access to the existing files?

It would help us to know what you know.

-Er, yes, yes. Of course.

-Fidel?

You can use my desk, sir.

Check with the airlines, see if you can get a passenger list for all flights from Antigua

-during the past month.

-OK.

-Dwayne, background. Check the neighbours,

-see if any have links to Antigua, in case he wasn't working alone.

-Yes, Chief.

If anyone needs me, I'll be at the crime scene.

Detective Inspector, just the man.

Actually, I'm in something of a hurry, sir.

-Five minutes.

-Well, I...

All right.

Not in there.

Come on. I'll buy you a cold drink.

Slainte.

Aidan, can I ask you something?

That sounds ominous.

No. It's...

Well, I know we said we'd talk to Camille.

-Yes?

-Would you mind if we just wait a little while

before we tell anyone?

You mean until after I get back?

I couldn't bear it if you didn't come back.

I'd rather not look like a sad and stupid old woman to everyone as well.

-Now you hate me.

-No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, I could never hate you.

And I understand, so that's what we'll do.

-Really?

-Really.

Hi!

You'll have to get yourself your drinks.

Aidan's cooked me a farewell lunch.

He flies home tomorrow.

Well, I'm sure I'll be back, you know.

It's very beautiful here.

Oh, sorry, my manners.

Aidan, this is Camille's boss, Inspector Poole.

-Inspector.

-Richard, please. I've heard a lot about you.

-Oh?

-Camille likes to talk. A lot.

Oh, a family trait.

And this is Selwyn Patterson, the police commissioner for Saint-Marie.

-Aidan Miles, pleasure to meet you.

-Please, don't let us disturb your lunch.

This is, er, all a bit cloak and dagger, isn't it?

I, erm...

I have something I need to talk to you about.

Oh?

What's this?

I've been talking to your superintendent in London.

The detective they brought in to cover for you has finished his attachment.

I don't understand, sorry.

It's a human resources thing.

Before they can offer him the position permanently,

the Met guidelines state that you must be offered the position first.

What?

That's the number for the human resources officer

dealing with the case.

If you ring her, you can have your old job back.

I can have my old job back?

I can go back to London,

and not be hot, or have sand everywhere?!

Yes.

Or, of course, you could stay here.

Oh...

..I could go to the White Hart,

sit in the snug with a pint in my hand.

Yes, you could.

I thought it best I told you alone,

to give you time to make your decision.

No, yeah, yeah, absolutely.

No, I shall have to think long and hard.

Whoo, it's a tough one.

But, um, you'll have to phone today.

-What?

-The last day they can keep the job offer open for you is today,

6pm, UK time.

That's in, erm, two hours.

Wh-wh-what?!

And when exactly did the Super ring you with this news?

It wasn't today, was it?

Er, not as such, no.

And it wasn't yesterday, was it?

-No.

-It was long before today.

You didn't want me to know. You hoped it would go away.

-You're leading a good team here, Detective Inspector.

-That's no excuse!

I'd like you to stay.

I want to go home.

I know.

Then I suggest you make the call.

-Oh, I was just, erm...

-Sorry, can't stop! There's a call I've got to make!

Oh, you'll be the best dad, Fidel,

-but he'll need Uncle Dwayne to teach him about a few things.

-Oh, really? Like what?

Women, motorbikes, climbing trees.

I can climb trees. Hello? Sorry, yes.

-This is Officer Fidel Best calling from Honore Police Station.

-That was quick, Chief.

If we cross-reference the passenger list against the hotels,

see where they were staying, we can find out who can account for their movements,

and we can dismiss a huge amount of them.

-Why?

-Women, children, elderly.

Good thinking.

But we've no way of knowing whether he got the information Rose was hiding or not.

We have to assume he has.

I'm sorry, but how can we expect to solve this puzzle

if Inspector Ricketts has been on it for years and not got anywhere?

Wait!

Have you got something?

Ooh.

Well, that's...

Ooh.

'Selim...it means safe.'

-Er...

-'Nadia Selim, 30 years old,

-'lived at this address for a little under two years.'

-Of course.

DOG BARKS

'Why would she keep a vet's bill that's two years old?'

HE LAUGHS

Oh, oh!

Oh, that's brilliant!

HE LAUGHS

Oh! That's superb!

Nearly two hours, I've got time.

Right, erm, exciting news. Well, at least, exciting for me.

So I'll stop being English and buy you all a drink.

Meet me across the road, say bon voyage.

Yeah.

In one hour, only I've to go and pick up Georgie Westcott first, so I'll see you there.

Drinks are on me!

I wouldn't mind, you know.

Mind what?

If you wanted him to move in.

I can find a place.

Thank you, but we're a little way from that yet.

Just a "little way"?

Stop it!

I heard he cooked you lasagne.

Which was very nice.

I'm happy you're not alone.

Hearing you laugh, watching you dance.

Oh, I always dance.

Why are you arguing with me?

I'm trying to give you my blessing here.

I know.

-Thank you.

-But I'm not calling him Dad.

Hello?

Ah, sorry, everyone! Sorry!

Half an hour left. Perfect.

Er, I might, erm, have to jump around a bit,

because, er, well, I never really looked at it the way it was designed, as a puzzle.

Once I did, I got it.

-At least, I think I have.

-Got what?

-I think I know where to find our killer.

-How exciting!

Should we really be doing this here?

Yes, because as soon as we're done, I have an announcement to make,

so we'd come back here anyway, so I thought we may as well, erm, you know...

-Can we just get on with it?

-Hey, that's the Chief.

This case has been a puzzle right from the start. Quite literally.

Firstly, the murder of Nadia, as you knew her, Rose Duchamp as she really was,

was carried out with the kind of professional attention to detail

none of our suspects were capable of.

According to Inspector Ricketts,

we know that Rose came to Saint-Marie to run away from her past,

more specifically, the lover she discovered to be a criminal.

She at first intended to hand him over to the police,

but was clearly got to before arrangements could be made.

Erm, it's strange that someone managed to get to her so easily

if she was under police protection, don't you think?

But can we be sure that it was Rose's criminal ex-lover that murdered her,

and not the lascivious boss, or the cranky neighbour, Jacko Gardiner,

or the somewhat resentful friend, Georgie Westcott?

I think we can.

You see, the biggest clue to the identity of the killer

was the coins found stuffed in the victim's mouth.

On the surface, something of a random act,

until you realise there were 26 coins,

plus a further four found lodged in her throat.

Thirty pieces of silver. Judas.

-So this was a message that she was killed for betraying someone?

-Exactly that.

Someone who wanted others to know the penalty for such a betrayal.

And then we have mystery number two.

The house was searched, so the killer was clearly looking for something. But what?

-Logically, it had to be the information we're told Rose had promised the police.

-Makes sense.

Hmm. But Rose gave an envelope to her neighbour for safekeeping.

So it occurred to me, if she knew that she was in danger,

that her past had caught up with her, then why leave the information in the house?

Why not give it to her neighbour for safekeeping as well?

And then it hit me.

That's exactly what she did.

When the killer broke into Rose's house last night,

he had no idea that the key piece of information he needed wasn't there.

I think he saw Rose with a policeman, and knew he had to act.

Obviously, the locks on the door

didn't prove too much of an obstacle to him.

We know that Harry, Rose's dog, barked at strangers,

yet none of the witnesses heard a dog barking after midnight,

so we can be sure that Harry knew the killer.

As Rose brought the dog with her from Antigua, I assume he recognised the killer instantly.

In fact, I'd hazard a guess that Harry here will run straight to the killer.

You mean the killer's here?

Oh, yes.

In fact, he was here last night, which is why Rose was frightened,

why, when she saw a police officer,

she made sure she made him take her home.

Wait, you said Rose left some information with her neighbour.

I thought it was just cash and a passport.

Yeah.

And this.

A vet's bill.

75 dollars for identity-chipping Harry.

But if you accept that the victim gave her neighbour all her most valued possessions,

the thing that brought her to Saint-Marie must be there. If it wasn't the passport or cash,

then it had to be this vet's bill.

It wasn't until an hour ago that it occurred to me how she did it.

So Georgie and I took Harry to see the vets

to have the chip removed.

Only to discover that it wasn't a pet identity chip,

it was a memory chip.

No doubt containing all the incriminating files Rose told the police in Antigua about.

I'm sure the identity of Rose Duchamp's killer's on here,

along with enough evidence to convict him.

-So all we have to do is run it through the computer?

-Yes.

But, er, she left us one last clue.

You see, er, Rose was incredibly bright.

She loved to play games, solve puzzles.

And the final clue is the most damning of all.

It's also the simplest to solve, once you know how.

-So, what is it?

-She knew that if anything happened to her,

it was the last chance she had to expose the person she was running from.

It was the name that she gave herself when she came to Saint-Marie.

Nadia...

Selim.

Anyone?

You see, any good crossword enthusiast, as Rose was,

knows to looks out for an anagram,

or, as in this case...

..words that work equally well...

when spelt backwards.

It was you, Aidan, wasn't it?

You killed Rose Duchamp.

It was you who approached her in her sleep and killed her before searching her house.

You're the man she was running from, the ex-boyfriend at the heart of the money-laundering ring

who she's finally exposed.

You came to Saint-Marie two weeks ago.

You've been looking for Rose ever since you got here.

You found her last night.

CAR HORN BEEPS

Take him away.

PHONE RINGS

Two years.

Took us one day.

Well, at least I get to go home.

Home!

Oh, I've lost the piece of paper!

What? Wait, hold on! Sir, erm, the baby's coming!

-What?!

-Juliet, you know, she's... The baby! It's coming!

-Then go!

-Yeah, go, go, go!

-You process him, I'll bring the car round.

-What?!

No, I'll process him, you bring the car.

I'll lock him up, then we'll follow Fidel.

HE SCREAMS

WOMAN SCREAMS

Er, I don't seem to have any signal. I don't suppose anybody else has got any, have they?

What's more important than Fidel's baby?

Sir, you don't, er, you don't have any signal?

No, sorry.

BABY CRIES

I'm a daddy!

-Oh!

-Well done, Fidel!

THEY LAUGH AND APPLAUD

So...

did you make the call?

You know I didn't.

Good! You decided to stay!

No, not exactly, I just couldn't...

I'm sorry, sir, but you tricked me, again. I find that very underhand.

Would you like to make an official complaint?

Who to?

The police commissioner.

That's you, isn't it?

Yes.

This is my daughter.

Are you sure?

THEY LAUGH

-Congratulations, Fidel. I'm very happy for you.

-Thank you, sir.

-There's nothing quite as glorious as a new life.

-No.

You can hold her, sir, if you want.

Ooh, er, actually, I, er, I've never held a baby before.

Then it's about time you did.

Yes, great...

Oh, hello.

Ahh!

Oh, God, she's just been sick on me. Sorry, what do I do now?

It's OK, I'll take her.

Yes, please do, please. I'm so sorry, I made her sick.

Murderers!

I'm so much more comfortable with murderers than babies.

Don't worry, I'll take her back to her mother.

Maman?

You all right?

I'm always all right.

Good night, Richard.

Good night.

Hello?

Over here!

Thanks.

Aren't you going to sit down?

Ooh, down here?

Er, yeah.

-On the sand?

-Yes.

I was starting to think you'd loosened up a bit.

I have.

I mean, sitting on the beach, beer in hand, free spirit.

I'm virtually feral.

Hardly!

All the time you've been here, have you learnt anything?

Have you changed your opinion, maybe?

Yeah.

How?

There is something I've realised,

something I suppose it's taken me a long time to notice.

-Yes?

-Something I've really come to appreciate,

-more than I thought I would.

-What?

My own company.

Now what have I done?

Nothing.

That is so annoying.

Wait, I'M annoying?

-Yes.

-You're so English!

-Being English doesn't mean you're annoying.

-Yes, it does.

Well, if you don't mind me saying so, I think that's very childish.

And very French.

Excuse me?! And what has being French got to do with it?

-You started it.

-No, I didn't!

-Agh! Agh!

-What?!

I've got, I've got sand in my eye.

SHE LAUGHS

-Stop laughing, I'm dying here! I've got sand in my eye!

-Stop being a baby!

HE SCREAMS

SHE LAUGHS

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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