Episode 3 Death in Paradise

So, morning team briefing.

I thought we should sharpen things up a little and start each day as we...

mean to go on.

Fidel?

RINGS BELL

Oh.

Sorry, chief.

It's just that Crazy Ally was throwing a Full Moon party

last night and, well...

Yeah, your self destructive link to the lunar cycle

is well documented so, er, let's just leave it there, shall we?

All of it.

You think it'll be quiet here again today?

The phone hardly rang at all yesterday.

It's too hot. No-one's got enough energy to break the law.

Ms Smythe.

Carlton. Lovely day.

There is a positive aspect to the phone not ringing.

No crimes being committed!

Peace and goodwill abounding. Hmm?

And it reflects very well on the department.

If you're bored, chief, there's always the crossword.

Yeah, with respect, it's not exactly the Times, is it? Come on.

OK. One across. Three letters, begins with S.

"It is blue and is all around you."

Hmm, that's a tricky one.

It's sea. It's blue and all around you. We're on an island.

-It's the sea.

-Or sky.

Tricky.

SHE SCREAMS

So, er, what do we know about this place?

The Jacaranda Clinic. Specialises in cosmetic procedures.

-Very exclusive.

-You mean expensive?

Well, you book in for a face lift,

then spend the next two weeks sitting by the pool.

By which time all trace of the surgeon's knife has disappeared.

And the secret of your eternal youth is safe for another year.

The clinic is owned by an English surgeon, Jeremy Tipping.

He's been on the island for years.

Got the big yacht in the harbour and everything.

A real beauty. Even has a Jacuzzi!

Police. We've come about the corpse?

-Impressive.

-Mmmmm.

I meant the ambience. Clearly.

-Vivaldi?

-Well, it gives me the creeps. It's so impersonal.

They all arrive in their big black cars and then just disappear again.

I doubt if anyone here sees anything of the island.

It's just like they've never actually been here at all.

Ah! Inspector?

This way.

No, I haven't had a face lift, Inspector.

I come here for physiotherapy. An old sports injury.

Mala. My physiotherapist.

Beautiful hands.

Her name was Valerie Dupree.

French.

Apparently her husband had just left her for a younger woman.

So, the staff and I think it's a simple case of suicide.

-Do you know if she could swim?

-Yes.

I understand she swam most evenings.

How sad you must be to take your own life.

Well, let's not jump to conclusions.

-Selwyn! Hello!

-Jeremy.

This is Detective Inspector Richard Poole, Sergeant Bordey.

A pleasure. I'm sorry we're not meeting in better circumstances.

Quite. And Mrs Dupree was last seen alive when?

Erm, I understand her nurse saw her yesterday evening.

And the body was discovered?

First thing this morning. One of our guests found her.

We will try to keep the disruption to a minimum, Jeremy.

Isn't that right, Inspector?

Yes. Absolutely.

Good. Well I'll just go and get dressed.

Er, the ambulance has been held up,

so Dwayne and Fidel are moving the body inside.

-Mmmm?

-Out of sight.

Oh right, yeah.

You know this pot's been moved.

And, er, it's been chipped. Look.

This is just awful. The poor woman.

-I-I-I was just in town, I just got back.

-And you are?

Sorry, erm, I'm Anna Jones. Erm, Doctor Anna Jones.

-You work here?

-Yes, I'm the general manager.

-But you're a doctor?

-Of psychology.

-Oh?

-Part of my job is that I screen the clients.

Oh, so, you must have examined Mrs Dupree?

Er, yeah, I did.

Erm, which I'm not feeling particularly comfortable with right now.

She was clearly depressed.

Her husband of 25 years had just started divorce proceedings.

But I, I honestly thought that the cosmetic procedure

would give her a fresh start, you know, help her feelings of low self esteem.

-But, erm, clearly I was wrong.

-PHONE RINGS

Sorry, I'm so sorry.

Hello?

Hi, yes, Mrs Katzenburg. Mm-hmm, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Can I call you back? Yes, in five minutes. Thank you. OK, bye.

Is there anything else I can help you with?

If we could just see Mrs Dupree's room?

-Then we can get out of your way.

-Yes, absolutely. It's this way.

-Sir?

-Hmm, yes, yeah.

Coming.

Erm, Carlton here took care of her,

-so he can show you everything you need.

-Thank you.

-PHONE RINGS

-Oh, sorry about this.

Erm, yes?

Right, aha.

So, how well did you know Mrs Dupree?

It was her first visit here.

And you last saw her, when?

Drug round. 'Bout 9.30pm?

All the patients get heparin, Mr Tipping is very insistent.

Heparin?

An injectable anticoagulant.

Enables wound-healing by preventing blood clot formation.

Right.

So you gave her the injection as normal?

Sure.

Same as every night.

Did you speak to her?

Dr Jones is very particular.

She doesn't encourage conversation with the clients.

So, assuming she died some time that night,

you may well be the last person to see her alive?

I couldn't say.

She was my last patient on the round.

I just give her the injection and go straight home.

All right, thank you. We'll be fine from here.

No note?

Do you know what this is?

Er, hmm, tea?

Not any old tea.

This is Da Hong Pao.

Hmmm?

You know, gram for gram this is more expensive than gold.

Camellia sinensis, if I recall correctly.

You know when Nixon visited China,

they gave him two ounces of this as a gift.

Two ounces! Imagine.

-It's half empty. A little strange, don't you think?

-Why?

Well you go to the trouble of making yourself a cup of the most expensive tea in the world...

-Oh, I love this bag!

-Ahem!

You go to the trouble of making yourself a cup of the most expensive tea in the world

and then halfway through, you put down the cup, go out to the pool and drown yourself?

People can be spontaneous. They do strange things.

I disagree.

You know, throughout my career I've found them to be surprisingly predictable,

provided you truly understand their motives, of course.

So, why drink only half a cup of tea?

Maybe she used it to wash down the rest of these?

-Diazepam.

-Mm-hmm.

Sleeping tablets.

Tea or no tea, the truth is that this woman felt so alone,

so miserable, that she'd take her own life.

While I disapprove of assumptions in principle,

in this case, you may be right.

There's nothing here. Let's go.

I know what you're thinking, Sergeant Bordey, but this is very probably the last thing she drank

before she committed suicide and, as such, we should test it.

You mean you should test it?

Absolutely.

I'm surprised they don't get that fixed, the money they charge.

Must be like being pushed around on a supermarket trolley.

We found this in her dressing gown pocket, sir. Nothing else.

Well, see what you can recover from it. Last calls, surviving prints.

We may at least be able to determine time of death for the coroner.

Sure.

Well, team? All finished?

-Yes.

-And?

Most likely suicide.

So, just as I said?

-Yes.

-Apart from the tea.

-The tea?

-Yes, Valerie Dupree made herself an expensive pot of tea,

yet failed to drink it.

There are some important people at the clinic, Inspector.

Rich people with great influence.

All of whom we want to welcome to the island with open arms.

I'm sure you understand me?

Yes, sir.

Liming?

-Is that a word?

-Of course it is.

It means hanging out with your friends and having a beer.

-You know, taking it easy. Relaxing.

-Really? Mm.

Well, it fits.

COMPUTER PINGS

The pathologist's report on the suicide lady.

-So it is suicide?

-Seems so.

Cause of death - hypoxia, cardiac arrest.

Chlorinated water found in lungs,

correlates with suicide by drowning, no sign of trauma.

Apart from...

Recent surgery to the face, thought to be cosmetic in nature.

Blood tests showed traces of glycosaminoglycan,

which tallies with reported anticoagulant unfractionated heparin.

That's it.

What about the diazepam?

Sir?

In her blood.

There's no sign of that here.

But we found an empty bottle of diazepam in her room.

That's what we assumed she took.

Well, there's nothing here.

It could have worked its way through her system?

Not a dose big enough to knock her out.

What about her medical records? Any history of blackouts, fainting?

No.

Any long term medical condition at all? Epilepsy? Seizures?

No, nothing. Maybe she just slipped and fell?

Then where's the trauma? A lump or swelling? Broken skin?

There isn't any.

So, a reasonably fit and able swimmer, Valerie Dupree,

makes herself a very expensive cup of tea

then takes barely a single sip

before leaving her room

and walking to the swimming pool and throwing herself in.

Then, using nothing more than her own willpower,

she holds herself down under the water until she drowns.

So you're saying it wasn't a suicide?

And it couldn't have been an accident?

Which means?

Somehow, as unlikely as it seems...

..I think she was murdered.

Well, the pathologist's report was clear -

there were no other factors in her death - she drowned.

How can that be?

Maybe someone held her in the pool.

The only logical explanation. And yet...

What?

Well, imagine you're taking a midnight swim

and I decide to drown you.

What do you do?

Aaargh!

-OK, let me rephrase that. You're not a trained police officer.

-I'm not?

No, you're a depressed woman with no apparent aptitude for self defence.

Oh, OK, all right. Well, then, I'm drowning, struggling for air,

I guess I'd struggle.

Yet the victim showed no signs of restraint bruising

to the neck or shoulders. No hyoid bone fracture, you know.

Try and subdue her and her characteristic injury patterns

would be impossible to avoid.

Well, what if it was just a little push down in the back of the...?

No, you don't, no, you don't.

No, I mean, whichever way you do it, I think we've established

it's impossible to hold someone down, under water,

without giving them so much as a bruise.

And then there's the tea conundrum.

Detective Inspector.

-Is there a problem?

-I'm afraid there is.

Perhaps you could enlighten me.

We're no longer sure

that Valerie Dupree's drowning was a suicide.

I don't... I don't think I understand.

You're suggesting it was some kind of accident?

I'm suggesting she was murdered.

Well, that's nonsense.

We're going to need a complete list of your staff and clients.

But just hang on a minute, what are you basing this assertion on?

Well, that's a police matter.

If you could just provide me with what I've asked for.

Absolutely not. That's confidential information.

Sorry, but as I'm now treating this as a murder enquiry, I must insist.

We can always get a warrant.

And until the investigation is complete, I'm going to have to

request that you close the clinic, temporarily.

No-one enters, no-one leaves. And we'll be confiscating passports.

You're imprisoning my clients?

Just until the interviews have been completed

and they've been eliminated from our enquiries.

I mean, the poor woman was just floating there. Face down!

Can I ask you how well you knew Mrs Dupree?

Oh, not at all really.

I mean, we just passed the time of day.

Her husband was rich, I know that. She was a feisty one.

You should have heard her on the phone to him.

Well, one assumes it was her husband.

One couldn't help overhearing.

She was quite animated about something.

Would you say she was angry or upset?

I'd say both.

I mean, everyone divorces in the same language, don't they?

Besides, after three useless husbands, one learns the signs.

So you're not married now?

I was. Yes.

Three tries to finally get it right

and then my darling number four goes and dies on me.

You must miss him.

Yes, I do.

Terribly.

He was...

..a force of nature.

We just had so much fun together.

Well, if you want to have some fun,

maybe you should see some more of our island.

Why come all this way and not experience it?

Well, because everything I need is right here.

If you change your mind and want to see more of the real Saint Marie,

this is my mother's bar.

Oh, thank you. That's very kind.

My pleasure.

OK, I think we're done here.

So if you think there is anything else might be important?

Well, since you ask.

Now, I'm not one to gossip, but I had started to wonder

whether she wasn't one of those older women who prey on younger men.

-Oh.

-Sexually.

Yes. Anyone in particular?

Ah.

I think they were having some kind of lover's tiff.

I couldn't hear what was being said

but it all sounded terribly passionate.

I appreciate you've got more questions,

but my patient's already on the table.

Well, quite frankly, as head of this establishment,

I would hope that I could count on your cooperation.

Yes, yes, well, quite right.

Look, why don't we both act like proper Englishmen and compromise?

Come and join me in theatre

-and I'll do my best to answer your questions there.

-Theatre?

Actually, it'll be nice to have some time to chew the fat

with a fellow countryman.

Changing room's this way.

So you weren't in a relationship with her?

Absolutely not.

-Then can I ask you where you were that night?

-In my room.

-Alone?

-Yeah. Worse luck.

Hmm.

Is there anything else I can help you with?

Yes. I'd like your passport.

Can we get some more light here, please? I can't see a thing.

It's like trying to operate in The Black Hole of Calcutta.

Oh, slightly better.

Ah, you're operating on her...

Right. Good.

Not sure this is quite the...

Beautiful woman, perfectly equipped.

Now, you tell me,

are these too small?

Well, I wouldn't...

Hold this for me, would you?

I did what I always do.

Worked until ten and then I went home, took the phone off the hook.

With a job like this, you need your downtime.

Clients can be pretty demanding.

I can imagine. And Dr Tipping?

Mr.

He's a surgeon. They're always a Mr.

Don't forget it. It's guaranteed to set him off.

So, he can be difficult?

He has a temper. But he's an artist, A perfectionist,

and people like that need everything to be just so.

I spent the night on my yacht.

Caught up on a bit of correspondence,

polished off the last of the single malt and then turned in.

And can anyone confirm that or..?

You could take my word for it.

Failing that, the harbour master should back me up.

Our clientele are rich, important people.

You can understand why they insist on total discretion.

Which is why you discourage your nurses from even talking to them?

We're a sanctuary, Detective Bordey. There's no autographs, no chit-chat.

Our staff are paid well to obey the rules.

This is a business first and a hospital second.

-PHONE RINGS

-Oh, sorry.

Hello? Uh-huh. OK, yeah, Tell her I can deal with it right away.

Look, I have to deal with this.

If there's anything else I can help you with?

Could you...? Finger should do it.

To tell the truth, economic meltdown and all that, we were,

we were struggling.

Anna came along with a new marketing strategy, encouraged me

to push the whole privacy thing.

Top class clients, total discretion assured.

And now here we are - one big, happy family.

Light! I need light for God's sake!

Hot stones, sauna, they're virtually sauteed

then they lie out in the sun, which basically amounts to grilling.

Why don't they just go the whole hog and pop themselves in the microwave?

-Have you finished?

-Sorry, was I ranting?

-Yes.

Well, quite frankly, Camille, some things qualify for a rant.

I'm not sure what the exact criterion is,

but I'm pretty sure it'd include

holding a stranger's nipple in place while someone else sews it on!

SHE LAUGHS

Well, I'm glad you find it amusing, I could be scarred for life.

-Now, where were we?

-Oh, yes, where?

Mrs Dupree was last seen around 9.30pm by her nurse,

Carlton Reynolds. He gave her medication of heparin.

Dr Jones finished work and left the clinic shortly after 10pm

and spent the evening alone at home.

Mr Tipping said he was on his boat.

The harbour master confirms he saw lights on the boat,

though, of course, that doesn't mean he was actually there.

One thing did come up, though - Jayne Smythe thought that

Mrs Dupree may have had a lover's tiff with one of the other guests.

-Who?

-Paul Vincent. He denies the liaison.

Says he's having a... blepharoplasty?

Eyelid tuck, from the Greek. And do you believe him?

About Mrs Dupree?

Oh, yes, I do.

Chief! The Commissioner's at the station, he's looking for you.

He doesn't seem very happy.

I thought I made it perfectly clear.

Any disruption at the clinic was to be kept to an absolute minimum.

Next you're confiscating passports?

Then you announce it's no longer a suicide,

but a full blown murder enquiry.

Yes, well, there were significant inconsistencies.

Inconsistencies?

-Yes, sir.

-Such as?

Well, we were led to believe that Valerie Dupree

drowned despite being fit, healthy and a competent swimmer.

We found an empty pill bottle in her room, but no sign of that medication

in her bloodstream and, and finally,

she makes herself a very expensive cup of tea

and walks out and kills herself halfway through drinking it.

The tea conundrum.

Tell me, at least you've managed to establish some kind of motive.

A reason anyone would have wanted her dead?

Well, we're working on that, sir.

All right.

Talk me through the murder. How was she killed?

-Well, we're working on that, too, sir.

-Any evidence of an assault?

-No, sir.

-Witnesses?

So the sum total of the evidence that led you to put this island's

most wealthy and most influential people under virtual house arrest

consists of a few inconsistencies and a half-drunk cup of tea.

I'm going to let you run with this.

For now.

Not because I think you're right,

but simply because there is something I've always wanted

to say since I joined the force.

You've got 24 hours to solve this case.

Do we understand each other?

Yes, sir.

Sir.

Commissioner.

He says he has every faith in us. So let's set up the board.

-Dwayne.

-Chief.

Go through the passports,

I want full background checks on everyone at the clinic -

-staff and guests.

-I'm on it.

-Fidel.

-Sir.

The victim was seen angry during a phone call. Everyone assumes

-it was with her wayward husband - let's double check.

-Sir.

Camille. I want you to have another crack at this Paul Vincent.

We have a witness saying they'd had a disagreement.

If they weren't having an affair, what were they talking about?

Threaten to arrest him for wasting police time.

It will be my pleasure.

I thought we'd done this. I told you, I hardly knew the woman.

Yeah, I believe you weren't having an affair.

But we still have a witness who saw an argument.

We weren't arguing.

Then what?

Look...

..how about we make a deal?

I'll answer your questions if you give me my passport back.

I run my own business and our biggest client

is on the verge of switching to a rival supplier.

What kind of business?

Flowers.

So you're a florist?

It's the perfect product.

Perishable and constant demand.

I built the firm up from nothing

and now we've got 20 people on the payroll.

And if I don't get back to talk to my clients in person

we'll all be out of a job.

OK, we can do a deal.

You answer my questions and maybe I won't arrest you.

Look.

I tried my best to be nice, but she just wouldn't take no for an answer.

In the end, I had to make my feelings clear.

-That's it?

-That's it. She didn't like it.

I didn't want a big drama so I went back to my room and stayed there.

Ah, which means you still have no alibi.

So business or not, there's no way I can sanction you leaving the island.

What if someone could prove where I was?

So you don't deny you spent the whole night in Paul Vincent's room?

-No.

-Then why lie and say you went home?

I forbid my staff from even starting conversations with the clients.

So how would it look if they knew I was sleeping with one of them?

You know, I can't imagine what Mr Tipping would do.

What time did you go and meet him?

So I went after I finished work

and Carlton, he was leaving.

And what time was that?

Ten, maybe a few minutes afterwards.

Paul was waiting for me.

I know that it was a stupid thing to do,

but Paul can be a very determined man and that can be hard to resist.

PHONE RINGS

Aren't you going to get that?

No, no, it's fine. That's not important.

Look, Paul and I spent the entire night together.

There is no way he could have killed anyone.

And career or no career, if I have to, I will swear to that in court.

So am I in the clear?

Dr Jones has confirmed your alibi.

So when can I have my passport back?

All papers will be returned the moment the case is officially closed.

But if I'm no longer a suspect...

Hey, she backed you up. She didn't have to.

Tyre pas trop sur la corde.

Don't push your luck.

-SQUAWK!

-Oh!

Chief. Paul Vincent's records.

All checks out.

Born right here in Honore Hospital. And no criminal record.

No-one else at the clinic has anything previous either.

What about her phone?

We're still waiting for the network to get back to us.

If she drowned, she can't have been moved.

If she was moved, she can't have drowned.

And why abandon an expensive cup of tea halfway through?

Well, maybe she was disturbed, she had a visitor

or she just didn't like it.

No, no, no, no, this is Da Hong Pao we're talking about.

It's priceless.

Which suggests that, for some reason, she couldn't finish it.

But why?

Unless...

If she was poisoned

-then wouldn't the lab have picked it up in her bloodstream?

-Possibly.

But if I'm right, whatever poisoned her should still be

present in the tea itself and in a much higher concentration.

Which, in theory, would make it easier to detect

even with rather rudimentary equipment like this.

I didn't even know we had this.

It's actually mine. You know you can get these on the Internet?

It's still quite functional,

especially if you pimp it with a little ammonium metavanadate.

So, anyway, five different chemical reagents.

Any abnormal chemical groups will react with the appropriate

reagent and produce an almost instant colour change.

-How instant is instant?

-Any second now.

-Nothing.

-Which means it's just...

Tea.

It's just tea.

OK, so what now?

I think we should put the kettle on.

The pot was moved, damaged in the process

then put back in the wrong place, leaving a ring.

Now, you've seen the clinic - it's spotless.

So the cleaner would have cleaned the ring on the floor

during the daily round.

So we can infer the damage was done the previous night.

-But how?

-We know there wasn't a struggle - she had no injuries.

What if she knocked it on the way to the pool?

A suicidal woman carefully replaces a damaged pot

before lowering herself silently into the water?

No. The tea. The tea has to hold the key.

If it didn't poison her, why prepare it and only drink half a cup?

She was disturbed. By her killer.

Carlton Reynolds was the last person to see her.

-Have you got Dr Jones' new statement?

-Yes, it's here.

She saw Carlton last night, didn't she?

Yes. She said it was past ten.

Yes, but he told us he went home around 9.30.

Which gives him 30 minutes to have murdered Valerie Dupree.

Come. Let's see where he's off to.

But the inspector said to bring him in.

Ah, it's called initiative.

Yeah, it's also called disobeying a direct order from a senior officer.

Dwayne, and now he's getting away, look.

ENGINE CHOKES

Come on, baby.

OK, how about a sump full of fresh oil?

And this time I won't get it from the tractor.

ENGINE PURRS INTO LIFE

Ah, good girl.

-What's he doing?

-I don't know.

You know there's absolutely no point in running.

Hey!

You see that? Watch and learn.

Go on, you. Don't struggle, you make it worse for yourself.

That's the fourth time you've tested that tea.

One can't be too thorough, sergeant.

Fidel.

He hit me.

It's a free clinic. No-one pays a penny.

I only take what's about to expire -

half-opened boxes, ready to be disposed of.

Perfectly good medication thrown away? It's crazy.

So when you told us you left the clinic at 9.30?

I stop off at the pharmacy.

I just take a few things each time.

That way, no-one notices. When I have enough, I advertise a clinic.

It's mostly women, children, mothers.

People who need help but can't afford the doctor's bills.

So you've been running an unlicensed clinic with stolen medication?

Why run then?

You assaulted a police officer.

I thought Dr Jones had sent you.

I guess I just reacted.

I'm sorry about your nose.

I'd be happy to take a look at it?

What's your relationship with Valerie Dupree?

I was her nurse. When Mrs Dupree arrived, she was heartbroken.

She just wanted to talk.

Her husband had had an affair.

A younger woman.

She panicked, ran out and arranged to have surgery.

But now she was here, nothing had changed.

She was scared and lonely.

I listened to her. That's all.

You say Valerie was scared.

That sounds like an unusual emotion.

Her world had just caved in around her.

Her husband doesn't love her.

No children, friends taking sides

and now a face she don't even recognise.

Wouldn't you be afraid to face the world again?

You think she was unhappy with her surgery?

I know she was. She had already contacted her lawyer.

Listen, that night, when I was with her,

I knew she wanted to talk,

wanted someone to listen.

But I was tired.

It'd been a long day.

So I walked away.

I could have helped her

and I just walked away.

And that's something I have got to live with for the rest of my life.

Thank you. You've been most helpful.

I think we have all we need here.

So am I free to go?

Unless Officer Best wishes to make a complaint?

I guess we both made a mistake.

Thank you.

Dwayne, see that nurse Reynolds gets his property back.

Sir.

The phone company.

Yes. Valerie Dupree made three phone calls on the day she died.

All to the same number in Paris.

I just checked it out. It was a French lawyer.

She was going to make a complaint about the clinic.

I think we may have found our motive.

Sorry, sorry. I was held up in surgery.

Well, I assume your presence here means we're making progress?

Possibly.

Did you know that Valerie Dupree made three calls to

a firm of personal injury lawyers the same day she died?

Please.

You're implying I murdered her

because she threatened legal action against my clinic?

People have been killed for less.

Do you recognise the name of this lawyer?

No, I've never heard of him.

Good, because that's my shopping list -

it says bananas and sun block.

Your eyesight's failing, isn't it, Mr Tipping?

Why else would you keep complaining about the light in theatre?

Yet if you were just short sighted,

why not wear glasses or contact lenses?

It all suggests to me this is more than a simple refractive problem.

It started about a year ago.

I thought it was just old age, that I needed glasses. But...

..things got worse.

In the end, I got on a plane

and went to see an old colleague back at Moorfields.

Turns out I'm a bit of a rarity.

I have retinitis pigmentosa.

The sight fades, day by day.

I think the word he used was inexorable.

There is no treatment.

I'll end up blind.

And yet you continue to operate?

Well, what I do here isn't real surgery.

Besides, most of the procedures

I could do with my bloody eyes closed anyway.

Look, Inspector...

..I'm a surgeon, this...

..is my life.

I thought I could cope,

that I had another maybe 12 months.

But...

..Valerie Dupree's face simply wasn't up to snuff.

Her scars were going to be visible - she had every right to complain.

But I never...

I never imagined that it would make her take her own life.

You still believe she committed suicide?

Yes, I do. I'm not proud of what happened, Inspector.

I'm prepared to take my share of the blame.

I shouldn't have operated on her.

But that doesn't make me a murderer.

I just can't see a way through.

I mean, Tipping had a motive but I don't believe he's a killer.

Carlton was the only one who had the opportunity,

but would he really kill to cover up his theft?

Paul Vincent? Though he swears there was no relationship.

Quite. And this looks nothing like a crime of passion.

Dr Jones is also missing means, motive and opportunity.

Maybe this will be the one that gets away. Hmm?

We still have a bit of time left.

Not enough.

Once we give them their passports back, they'll all be gone.

No. Something new will turn up tomorrow.

So, any plans for tonight?

Oh, yeah, I thought I'd wait till it gets dark

then spend a couple of hours with Lucy.

Excuse me?

I've had her since I was fourteen.

Christmas 1984.

You gave your telescope a name?

Long John Silver has a telescope.

Lucy is a precision optical instrument.

I realised that there's one good thing about living in a shack

on a beach on an island in the middle of nowhere -

zero light pollution.

And you?

Oh, just taking it easy.

Nothing really.

Liming? Is that liming?

No, not exactly.

You see, I hear people say that, that they're doing nothing,

but what does it exactly consist of?

What are its constituent parts? Define nothing.

I'm not sure I understand the question.

Yeah, that's just it, isn't it?

You don't understand the question and, no matter how hard I try,

I can't seem to understand the answer.

Maybe some things are supposed to remain a puzzle.

Like the mysterious death of Valerie Dupree.

Yeah, let's see what tomorrow brings.

Good night.

Good night, Lucy.

Good night, Camille.

Morning, Chief.

Anything?

PHONE RINGS

Honore police station.

Ah, yes, hold on one moment, please.

Sir, it's the Commissioner.

He says your 24 hours are up,

we need to return the passports to the clinic guests.

So that's it, I can go?

That's it. You can get back to running your floral empire.

-Yes, I can.

-You never mentioned you were born on Saint Marie.

I read your paper, it says you were born here in Honore.

Sure. My parents moved off the island when I was ten.

So, when I saw the clinic was here, I had to give them a call.

You can't fight fate.

I got to go.

I just thought it was strange, that's all.

When I was at the clinic earlier, I spoke to him in French.

At the time, I thought he just hadn't heard me, but how is it that someone

who'd have gone to school here doesn't know a word of French?

Well, I know plenty of people who went to school in England

who can't speak English.

Maman, do you remember a boy called Paul Vincent?

Late 1970s, local family.

No. I knew the Vincent family, but they had two girls.

No, wait, they had a son who died very young.

It was so sad.

I think his name was Paul.

But maybe I'm wrong.

Ms Smythe looks happy.

How do you know? She can't smile.

In fact, she's had so much work done,

I'm surprised she can move a muscle.

She didn't drink it because she couldn't drink it.

The answer's been staring me in the face. Quite literally.

'Our clientele are rich, important people.'

Yes?

'They insist on total discretion.'

'This is a business first and a hospital second.'

-I need a list of all the clients in the clinic.

-You've had it, sir.

Not the ones there now, well, those too, but going back, say, two years.

And crosscheck with the immigration records -

when they arrived in Saint Marie and when they left.

Dwayne, get everyone together, Commissioner too.

I'll be at the clinic in an hour.

-Camille, with me.

-Where to?

The public records office and then the graveyard, obviously.

Bye.

HORN BEEPS

Chief!

Paul Vincent has left the clinic.

Cab driver said he's gone down to the marina. Come!

Toss a coin?

No way, it plays havoc with my hair.

Whoa!

That way!

Dwayne! Dwayne!

Not on my watch.

Aargh!

I honestly didn't expect that to work.

This had better be good.

No. It had better astound me.

I've called you all here

because Valerie Dupree

did not commit suicide.

Every murder investigation has to focus on three things -

means, motive and opportunity.

Usually those things all point towards one person.

However, in this case, only nurse Carlton Reynolds, the last

person to see the victim alive, seems to have the opportunity.

On the night of the murder,

you thought she wanted to tell you something.

You said she seemed frightened, wanted to leave the clinic.

Yes.

You assumed it was fear of the future, however,

I now believe she was afraid for her life.

The Jacaranda Clinic prides itself on absolute discretion.

Clients quietly come and go.

As Sergeant Bordey said,

it's like they've never actually been here at all.

And that's the whole point, isn't it, Dr Jones?

Please, can I have your phone?

Thank you.

And the other one?

I thought having two phones was strange, but I dismissed it.

That was a mistake.

Because once I realised

that the white one was for the legitimate clinic

and the black one was for some kind of illegal operation...

Yes.

..everything started to fit together.

White for good, black for bad.

Your own private joke at everyone else's expense.

Because it's essential you know exactly who's ringing you, isn't it?

You told me that the clinic was losing money until Dr Jones arrived.

You explained how she'd turned the place around

with a new marketing strategy.

You didn't restructure the existing business at all, did you?

You simply used it as cover for another one.

Helping criminals begin new lives.

By finding someone of a similar age to them

who died young and stealing their details.

You provided new faces and new identities.

St Marie is the perfect location.

No electronic records means

it's almost impossible for police and borders to crosscheck.

You know, I have absolutely no idea who this gentleman is,

but I do know he is not Paul Vincent.

The real Paul Vincent died over 35 years ago as a small child.

Absolute rot! Selwyn?

Carry on, Inspector.

You can't make these allegations without proof!

Records.

Of clients who have stayed at the clinic over the past two years.

Among them, you'll find 18 people also recorded as deceased.

I understand your medical prowess may be on the wane,

but even in your heyday, I doubt you could resurrect the dead.

No, the clinic was being used as a one-stop shop for identity theft

with the occasional spot of cosmetic surgery when needed -

as in Mr Vincent's case - to finish the job.

All run by Dr Jones, under everyone's nose.

We've already established Valerie Dupree was frightened

the night that she died.

We also have a witness who saw her clearly uncomfortable

in the presence of the man we know as Paul Vincent.

'I think they were having some kind of lover's tiff.'

Things weren't quite as they seemed.

I now believe that Valerie Dupree had somehow discovered

the truth behind what Dr Jones and her special clients were up to.

She was, in fact, petrified of Mr Vincent.

So he's the murderer? Is that what you're saying?

This man is undoubtedly a criminal,

but he is not, as far as I'm aware, a murderer.

Then who is?

Valerie Dupree's life was taken

by the only person who had the opportunity.

Carlton Reynolds.

No! I swear!

I didn't do it!

The first thing that bothered me about this case

was a simple cup of tea.

Why go to the trouble of making an expensive pot of tea

yet fail to drink it?

Unless you were disturbed.

In this case, by their killer.

Valerie Dupree was killed by the most powerful toxin known to man -

a substance this clinic uses every day

yet which no lab would ever find unless they were looking for it -

botulinum toxin.

Harmless enough when used to remove wrinkles

yet fatal in the hands of a killer.

Administered unwittingly by Carlton Reynolds...

..but prepared very deliberately by Dr Anna Jones.

You waited for the moment that Valerie's Heparin injection

was ready to be administered

and then you swapped it for a massive overdose of botulinum toxin.

Carlton continued his rounds,

not knowing he was now carrying a lethal syringe.

What happened? Did she come to see you?

Perhaps to tell you she had called her lawyer

and was going to complain?

Whatever she was planning, she never got that far, did she?

Instead, I think she overheard

exactly what was going on at the Jacaranda.

An illegal identity fraud racket

involving some very unpleasant people.

You knew you had to silence her.

And that what you'd added to her medication would paralyse

every muscle in Valerie Dupree's body within minutes.

With her lungs paralysed and unable to breathe,

Valerie died in her own bed.

You then simply moved her,

silent and unseen, on a trolley like any other patient.

Yet the trolley had a bent wheel, making it difficult to manoeuvre.

Which was why you knocked into a terracotta plant pot by the pool.

Then you slid the body of Valerie Dupree into the pool

to make it look like she'd drowned herself.

All so that your criminal endeavours weren't exposed.

Valerie felt she'd lost her beauty as well as her husband,

but you took away the most precious thing of all -

her life.

Lock her up.

My dear fellow,

it seems I may have been a little harsh on the phone the other day.

What can I do to make it up to you?

Ohhh.

It seems our mysterious Mr Vincent's real name is Emilio Suarez.

Big time drug runner. Wanted in Florida and five other states.

With a bit of luck, they'll throw away the key.

I couldn't agree more. Anything else come in?

Nothing. It's still quiet.

Right, well, in that case, I suppose we should just, you know, lime?

I've actually drawn up a schedule for the rest of the week.

Here.

It's pretty self explanatory.

Nothing too taxing but then I suppose that's the point.

OK. So, it's Friday,

it's 12.02 and we are playing...

My favourite board game.

-Unless anyone has any objections?

-Well, I...

OK, Fidel. You're in the hot seat.

Professor Plum, in the dining room, with the lead piping?

Is that wrong?

I think we've established Professor Plum was

nowhere near the piping, lead or otherwise.

OK. Dwayne?

This is it? This is the game?

OK, another pass. Camille?

Can we, please, play something else?

Like what?

I don't know. Twister?

Hide and seek?

Don't be so childish. Come on.

Right.

-Colonel Mustard?

-No.

-Miss Scarlet.

-I told you, you can't keep shouting out names,

it doesn't work like that.

-(Reverend Green).

-No!

Well, one of them must be right!

Yes, but that's hardly the point, is it?

-Look, can we please just play the game properly?

-No.

Ah. Jayne Smythe looks ten years younger.

Amazing what love can do.

This is it?

Sergeant Bordey, I'm going to count down from five

and then, by the officially ratified Poole family rules of Cluedo,

you miss your turn.

Five, four...

You should try it you know - love.

-Look, are we playing this game or not?

-All I'm saying is...

Right. Fine, you win. Game over.

One caught in an explosion, the other one shot dead.

I hope they haven't wasted any money on the lottery.

These are actual treasure hunters, is that right?

I'm afraid they are.

Maybe you found something.

-Like what?

-You tell us.

I get half. That was the deal.

-I was just wondering about...

-If there was any word from London?

-Yes.

-No.

-Have you got a problem with me?

-Yes.

Someone clearly wants us to believe

these are deaths brought about by a dead pirate's curse.

Whoever it is, they're after me, aren't they?

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd