Episode 3 Death in Paradise

CARIBBEAN MUSIC PLAYS

This is what I call overtime.

We're on duty, remember?

Fidel, we're baby-sitting a painting.

Dwayne, it's a work of art.

No. That is a work of art.

Anything to report, Sergeant Best?

-Commissioner.

-All good, sir.

Dwayne, Fidel, this is Leo Pascal, the owner of the Pascal Gallery.

Leo, your security for this evening.

I can't tell you how reassured I am to have you gentlemen here.

You have a fine gallery.

We was just enjoying the show.

You're a fan of Durosseau?

I prefer his older stuff.

This may be your last chance to see his masterpiece.

After the auction it'll probably go to a private collector...

Speaking of which. Excuse me.

Oh-oh, Dragon Lady at two o'clock.

-Good luck, sir.

-Commissioner.

Judge Stone. You look radiant.

Selwyn. You look doughy.

Her name was Cora Patrick. She was a dancer at the Mermaid bar.

Durosseau painted her portrait in an attempt to woo her.

Was he successful?

She rejected him because he was too poor. So, he killed himself.

It's tragic, really.

When did he paint it?

Early last century. 1927 to be precise.

Excuse me. Dorothy, I'm so glad you came.

I wouldn't miss this for the world.

Oh, you've met Carlton, haven't you?

-Good to see you again.

-And you.

So, I can't wait to see the painting.

It's right over here.

Oh, you know, Carlton's been trying to teach me about art

but it's hopeless.

I am such a philistine, you see?

I'm sure that's not true. You've always had excellent taste...

Friend of yours?

Yeah, a long time ago.

Ah. The glamour has arrived.

Let me get you some champagne.

Sergeant Best, arrest me now.

Why, sir?

Anything to get away from that woman.

I don't know what the fuss is about, so what if it leaves the island?

Carlton thinks it should stay here. Durosseau's our most famous artist.

Excuse me. Carlton!

Carlton, wait!

Where are you going?

I really need to take this.

Quarter of a million dollars?

Yes, it's a lot for a painting.

Hmm.

PHONE RINGS

Diverted call from the station.

-Hello.

-Hello? Police. My name is Carlton Paris. I'm at 125 Shore Road.

She's got a gun...

Hello?

Hey? Where are you going?

Honore Police!

Open up, Carlton!

Can you please charge your phone?

I did. Soon as I got in.

Look.

Electricity helps.

Sorry. I got a little sidetracked.

-Were you trying to call me?

-Yes. We have a murder.

Ah, great, I'll just get my, er...

Yes, great.

What have we got?

Local boy. Carlton Paris.

-Shot.

-Who found him?

We did. The Pascal Gallery job the Commissioner hired us for.

Carlton was a guest.

He left early but an hour and a half later,

he called the station, gave his name and address, and said...

"She's got a gun."

Did he by any chance say who she was?

No, that would be far too easy, wouldn't it?

So what do we know about the victim?

I think you better ask Fidel.

Why Fidel?

Seems they knew each other.

CAMERA CLICKS

Looks like he took a shot to the shoulder and to the back.

Close range. Killer probably fired from the doorway.

When did you get the call?

8:30.

-And you arrived at?

-8:35.

A five-minute window for the killer to shoot him and then get away.

We did a brief search of the grounds and surrounding areas

but there was no sign of anyone.

Also, the door was intact when we got here

so he must have let the killer in.

Which suggests he knew her.

Yes, Camille.

What are you doing?

His glasses. They're for reading.

So?

So, what was he reading?

Dwayne says you were friends.

We were at the same school.

But were you close?

Very, I'd say...

How do you know?

Why else would Fidel be so upset?

I'm not upset.

Really? You sure?

Because it's not like you to miss such a big clue.

-I can only assume it's because you're upset.

-What clue?

-There's no land line here.

-So?

So, he must have made a call on his mobile to the station.

Did you find it?

-Which means?

-The killer took it.

-Exactly.

Wow!

Wow! Look at the size of that.

It's bigger than a king-size.

What would you call that? Emperor size? Tsar size?

It's comfy too. Gives a lot back.

Designer suits.

Mmm-hmm.

What did he do?

As far as we know he was unemployed.

Rich partner then?

No partner. No family.

Then how could he afford all this?

Good question. Come.

So, we checked in here.

We ruled out burglary because they left the laptop.

They took his mobile.

Look, his diary. Seems like a woman for every week.

Imagine...

Today is marked Dorothy Foster.

-The shipping heiress?

-Mmm-hmm.

Carlton was with her at the gallery this evening.

They looked very cosy.

Isn't she a little old for him? These are all rich women.

Mmm-hmm.

Odd selection of books, don't you think? All reference and

no fiction.

And the subjects. Antiques, opera, art, food, gardening.

Not what you'd expect a man in his 20s to be reading.

As far as I can see it wasn't so much reading them as mining them.

Mining them for what?

Conversation, I think. Take a look.

You see? He's marked this section on Royal Doulton as "icebreaker".

Then there's the fancy sculptures.

Expensive, tasteful but with a touch of femininity about them.

Not his choice. I think these were gifts.

So, we have a 25-year-old man with no apparent income

living in a prime beachside property with a wardrobe

full of designer suits.

He studies culture for conversation and receives gifts from rich women.

And, according to that, he clearly had a punishing romantic schedule.

Feels like I'm missing something.

Did you know?

Did I know what?

That Carlton was a gigolo?

He had a way with women.

Looks like he had a way with half the women on the island.

Yeah, well, that's nothing to be proud of.

How long since you were close?

A few years.

What happened?

We grew apart.

I'm going to need a copy of Walks of the Caribbean by Albert Dunn.

-What?

-Volume Two by the looks of it.

-Why would you need that?

-Carlton was reading,

but no written material was found in the front room.

Books are in alphabetical order.

All seem to be accounted for apart from...

See? Volume one and volume three. Maybe our killer took volume two.

All for a mobile phone and an old book?

I don't know! The things people kill for nowadays, eh?

How far was the gallery from here?

Less than a mile.

So, despite there being two police officers within five minutes,

Carlton chose to call the station.

He panicked. Dialled 999 and got through the switchboard.

But him and Fidel were old friends. Why not call him?

-Apparently, they grew apart.

-It's odd though, don't you think?

Not as odd as Fidel being friends with the island gigolo.

Yes, you've got a point there.

Wait a minute. Did you say gigolo?

The problem with being single

is finding ways to occupy your time.

Then there's the discipline of cooking a proper dinner,

not simply resorting to baked beans on toast every night.

Making the bed. And they're all daily battles, don't you find?

-Not really.

-But you live on your own?

Yes, but I make my own bed every morning

and I have no idea what baked beans are.

I need that information now.

Tomorrow is no good.

Is that Fidel?

Yes! He's chasing Carlton's service provider.

OK! You understand this is a murder investigation?

-He sounds a little angry.

-You think that's bad?

You should have been here for the forensics call.

I want them here by tomorrow.

First they can't track his phone then it's a two-day

wait for his call records. They're amateurs.

-So, where do you want to start?

-Coffee?

Let's skip coffee.

Right, Carlton Paris,

a 25-year-old male escort attends a viewing

at the Pascal Gallery, leaves early and an hour and a half later...

is threatened with a gun by a woman.

First question is why?

His job. He was a gigolo.

Maybe it was a disgruntled client.

Where are we on his clientele?

Most of his customers were businesswomen or tourists.

But he did have a few regulars on the island.

Yes, including Dorothy Foster.

She's hired Carlton every Saturday for the past eight months.

Must have cost her a fortune.

Carlton arrived at the viewing with Dorothy around 6:30.

But he left her sometime around 7:00.

-Any idea why?

-No. But she didn't look very happy.

Right.

Dwayne, let's track down these local clients,

see if they have an alibi for the time of death.

Yes, Chief.

20:30 to 20:35. That is our golden hour.

Or golden five minutes, to be precise.

-Ballistics.

-They said we'd have something this morning.

Also, we could do a profile of Carlton. As you were friends.

I hadn't spoken to him in years.

People don't change that much.

Chief? Walks of the Caribbean by Albert Dunn.

Volume Two. Happy reading.

Wow. This looks...heavy.

Keep an eye on Fidel.

OK, in the meantime, let's go and see what Dorothy Foster has to say.

So this is the Reef Club?

Where the rich come to play.

I'm sorry.

I met Carlton about a year ago. In this room.

It was the Valentine's Dance and we got chatting.

He was handsome and charming. Attentive.

So you began hiring him?

He became my Saturday-night date.

It wasn't a physical arrangement, you understand.

More like best friends.

We had so much in common.

Like art?

Carlton loved art. It inspired him.

He always said that art was truth.

If he loved art so much, why did he leave the viewing early last night?

Well, that's what I was wondering.

Did you have an argument?

No, one moment everything was fine and then

the next Carlton was leaving.

Carlton, wait...

'So I followed him out and...'

Where are you going?

He never came back.

What time was this?

Um, around 7pm.

Did you try to call him later?

Dorothy?

I've been looking all over for you. It's just awful. Poor Carlton.

Leo Pascal. I own Pascal Gallery.

So, you were at the viewing?

Of course.

We were just wondering why Carlton left the gallery so abruptly.

I think he might have had some kind of run-in with Marc Campese.

Marc Campese?

He owns the Reef Club.

'Carlton and I were discussing the Durosseau when Campese turned up.'

I didn't catch what he said but it made quite an impact on Carlton.

And you've no idea what it was about?

Sorry. Haven't the foggiest.

Where were you between 8:30 and 8:35 yesterday?

I was at home.

Were you alone?

I'm nearly always alone.

I'm sorry.

HE SINGS

You know, I think the Inspector meant

he wanted you to interview the suspects, not date them.

You can come with me if you want, make sure I behave.

Haven't finished Carlton's profile.

Looks like you haven't started it.

Carlton Paris. 25. Dead.

You sure you two were friends?

What happened between you two?

-It's OK. You can tell me.

-We fell out.

Was it a girl?

Did he steal her from you or vice versa?

Hey, where you going?

Fidel!

I almost feel sorry for her.

Why?

She seems grief-stricken.

Could be remorse.

You really think she's capable of murder?

She's the last person to see him alive and her alibi is weak.

Did she just...

I think she did.

Why would she do that?

Maybe she has a twitch. Or sunstroke.

So, Carlton's argument with Marc Campese, we should check it out.

We should but isn't he the wrong sex to be a suspect?

Maybe. But his wife isn't.

So, I spoke to Carlton. Big deal.

What was the conversation about?

Er, just, er, you know, small talk.

We understand that this small talk upset Carlton and made him

-leave early.

-Rubbish.

Look, we exchanged a few words, yes, but, er, it was so trivial,

I have no recollection what they were.

Did you know Carlton well?

I knew what he was, that was enough.

And what was that?

A man who preyed on the lonely.

Don't get me wrong, he was good at it,

but it's hardly an honourable way to make a living.

What about you, Mrs Campese?

Er, what about me?

Did you know Carlton well?

Er, not really.

Er, he was a member of the club but we very rarely spoke.

Did Carlton ever bring any of his clients to the Reef Club?

He did...until I put a stop to it.

Why did you do that?

Preying on our female members is bad for business.

OK, afraid we have another meeting. Is there anything else?

Where were you between 8:30 and 8:35?

Let me see, well, we left the gallery at about 8:00.

Home by 8:30.

-Early night.

-Yes. We were both very tired.

Marc Campese was lying.

But Marc Campese's not a she.

-Doesn't mean he's not involved.

-Hm.

And his wife's lying too.

Anything useful?

What?

The book.

It's just an out-of-date travel guide with a few

chapters on Saint Marie.

"The pretty island of Saint Marie is situated in the eastern

"Caribbean Sea.

"It is one tenth the size of its northwest neighbour Guadeloupe,

"one eighth of the size of Dominica, one sixth of the size of St Lucia,

"one fifth the size of Martinique and a third of the size of Barbados..."

And on and on and on it goes.

Why would our killer want to take this from Carlton's villa?

-Must be something important in it.

-Yeah. But what?

PHONE RINGS Er, it's Dwayne.

-Any luck on Carlton's clients?

-Seems Carlton had another client.

-And you'll never believe who it is.

-Who?

Judge Anne Stone.

Judge Anne Stone?

Who's Judge Anne Stone?

There was no relationship between Carlton Paris and I.

Right. Er, I see.

Well, we're just...we're pretty sure that you hired him.

We checked his bank records.

You made a single payment to him last month.

Hmm. My God. You must be desperate.

We're just covering every angle.

Fine. Last month I had to attend the Law Society dinner.

Now, it is still considered bad form for a woman to attend unaccompanied.

You needed a date?

My PA, she used her initiative.

And hired Carlton?

She told me Carlton was a friend.

It was only later that I found out he was, in fact, an escort.

So, what happened?

I sacked her of course.

I mean, with Carlton.

A little too clingy for my liking.

So you never hired him again?

Are you mad?

Do you have any idea what associating with a male

escort would do to my reputation?

-Anything else?

-Yes.

Where were you between 8:30

and 8:35 yesterday evening?

In my chambers.

Anyone see you there?

I have no idea.

PHONE RINGS

-Wow.

-Hello.

She reminds me of my mum.

-Yes, it is.

-That explains a lot.

Just do it.

"The waters around Saint Marie are too treacherous for any

"larger vessels to chance.

"However this may soon change as a lighthouse is currently being erected.

"The rainforests hum with life. The wonderful indigenous birdlife

"includes the fabled Saint Marie green..."

Maybe he was reading this and shot himself...

CARIBBEAN MUSIC PLAYS

Wow! Can't believe they closed it down.

It was hardly a surprise, stuck out here.

No-one could ever find the place.

So, what's so important?

Lauren...I found this at Carlton's villa.

It's yours, isn't it?

What do you want me to say?

What was it doing under his pillow?

Work it out, Fidel.

So, how long had you been...

Having an affair?

-Yeah.

-A year.

You should leave him.

I'd planned to. Carlton and I were off to

America. He bought tickets.

No chance of that happening now.

No. Lauren?

Did Marc know?

Er...you know...I, erm... I really should get going.

Lauren? Lauren!

Did he know?

Marc Campese found out that Lauren and Carlton were having an affair.

How did he find out?

Somebody at the club told him.

And how did he react?

Marc has a temper at the best of times.

At the gallery the night that Carlton was killed,

Marc threatened him,

told him to stay away from me.

-So much for the small talk.

-Mm.

Do you think he would've carried out his threat?

It's OK. You can tell them.

Marc lied when he said that we went home after the viewing.

After we left the gallery, he was still angry.

We were arguing. Things got ugly when I told him

that I was leaving him for Carlton.

That was it. Red rag to a bull.

-Marc!

-What time was this?

Er, about 8:00. I went home and I waited for him.

-He came back at 10:00.

-Did he say where he'd been?

-No, but I have a pretty good idea.

-So do we.

-Inspector?

-Commissioner.

I understand you paid a visit to Judge Stone yesterday.

She's helping with our inquiries.

Everything to your satisfaction?

Routine interview, that's all.

How disappointing.

You know, I wonder if you shouldn't be too quick to dismiss the good

judge from your investigation.

Sir?

Judge Stone is a prominent citizen with considerable political power.

It's our civic duty to ensure there's nothing to compromise her.

You're asking us to dig for dirt?

Not at all.

But should you uncover any skeletons, I'd like to know first.

She made him spend a day in jail.

You're kidding? What for?

Parking fines.

Can you jail someone for that?

Judge Stone can.

You two again. I've got nothing else to say to you.

Well, we'd love to talk to you...about your movements

after the viewing.

Told you. I went home.

You might want to rethink that answer.

Lauren?

What can I say? I thought my role as husband was to provide...

..give my wife everything her heart desired.

It turns out that what she desired was some jumped-up gigolo.

Do you know they were actually planning to run away together?

Must have made you very angry.

Yeah, yeah, it did.

As soon as Lauren told me she was leaving, the rage took over me.

Don't ask me what I was planning to do.

-I just wanted to get there.

-And do what?

And kill him, of course.

Did you?

No.

When I got to his villa Dorothy was there.

Dorothy Foster?

There she was,

demanding that Carlton let her in.

-She was angry.

-What time was this?

Around 8:15.

So what did you do?

Hung around for five minutes waiting for her to leave.

Suppose I must've cooled off a bit. Anyway, I left.

Then where did you go?

I walked around for a while.

Came to my senses, and went home.

That's it? You just went home?

What about the rage that came over you?

I decided to redirect it.

Would you mind telling us where?

I know what this looks like from the outside.

Rich older man marries a pretty young woman. Trophy wife.

The fact is, I love Lauren.

I just have to find a way to prove that to her.

You have to sign your statement.

-And then what?

-And then you can go.

Er, I found this last night.

When was this taken?

The day you got into police college.

Carlton bought the cocktails.

Oh, he was always the big spender.

-Yeah, we look drunk.

-But happy.

Used to love spending time with the two of you. You were so close.

Like brothers.

Yeah...until I spoilt it all.

He still considered you a friend.

Then why didn't he call me? He was in trouble.

His life was in danger. He should've called me.

Er, you can keep that.

Thanks.

Thank you for letting me see it.

It's such a beautiful work.

And the last memory I have of Carlton.

Is everything set for the auction?

We're expecting quite a turnout.

Inspector Goodman.

Miss Foster, we have a witness who says

they saw you at Carlton's villa last night.

Who also says you were very angry.

Mr Pascal, could you give us a moment, please?

Thank you.

I've never had much luck with men.

I always seem to attract the wrong sort.

Daddy used to despair, "They're only after one thing, Dorothy,

"my money".

So, after ten years of moving from one disastrous

relationship to the next, I decided enough was enough.

You hired Carlton?

At least with him, I didn't have to pretend it wasn't about my money.

But the truth is, he made me feel like I was important.

Why did you go to the villa?

Well, when he didn't return to the gallery,

I went to see if he was all right.

Then what made you so angry?

The night of the viewing, Carlton asked to see me early.

Said he had an announcement.

For one silly moment I thought that he was planning to propose.

But no.

He said he was leaving the island

and that this would be our last date together.

Did he say why he was leaving?

Apparently, he'd fallen in love. I tried to be happy for him.

I put on quite an act.

But then I realised that this would be my last time with him.

So, well, I just couldn't cope.

So, I thought that if I offered him more money,

or even if I bought him the Durosseau...

What did Carlton say?

He never even answered the door.

Are you saying you went to bribe Carlton to stay friends with you?

You don't believe me?

I'm struggling to understand.

Then you have never been lonely.

What do you think?

I find it hard to believe that he wouldn't at least talk to her.

Maybe he did and she's lying. She has motive and opportunity.

All we're missing is the murder weapon. PHONE RINGS

Excuse me. ..Hello.

Beautiful, isn't she?

Yes, yes, she is.

The artist was in love with her.

Do you know about Durosseau and Cora?

No. But I can see it in there.

D'accord. Oui. Merci.

Forensics are in. Sir? Sir!

Sorry. Coming.

So! There's nothing in the pathology report to refute what

we already know.

The first bullet entered the left shoulder.

It was the second bullet that did the damage, pierced the heart.

-Ballistics?

-A .45-calibre.

-Check the firearms register.

-Yes, chief.

What happened with Campese?

He admitted going to the villa but claims he never saw Carlton.

And what, you believe that story?

We've got nothing to contradict it.

-PHONE RINGS

-Honore Police.

So if Dorothy Foster and Marc Campese were outside

the villa before 8:30 and Judge Stone was in her chambers,

that just leaves us with Lauren.

Wait, hold on! Lauren's still a suspect?

We can't confirm she was at home.

Camille, she didn't kill Carlton.

-How can you be so sure?

-Because I know her.

Maybe she changed. Like you said, it's been a few years.

-Yeah, and like you said, people don't change that much, remember?

-Thank you very much.

That was Carlton's service provider.

They're e-mailing full statements, but one number called

Carlton's phone every day for the past two weeks.

So I ran a check.

And whose is it?

Judge Ann Stone.

So, I called him a few times.

It might be better if you just told us the truth, Your Honour.

Do you have any clue what it's like to be a woman in this profession?

You have to be in control all the time. Even more so than the men.

20 years of my life I have dedicated to my career

and you have to learn to be tough.

You don't become the dragon lady overnight, let me tell you.

And Carlton?

He brought out a side in me I thought I had buried long ago.

He reminded me I have a sense of humour.

I'm actually very funny.

Yeah, no, we can see that.

I was intoxicated.

I wasn't in love with him...

..it was more that I was in love with who I am when I was with him.

And then he backed off.

Then what did you do?

I got desperate.

I never left him alone.

I called him...night...and day.

But it didn't work?

Desperation never does.

I'm finding it hard to imagine Judge Stone as a killer.

Oh. Easier than imagining her having a sense of humour?

Oh, er, please!

These women hired Carlton, he made them all happy. How?

Most men struggle to make one woman happy.

Clearly, he was good at his job.

Yes, then there's the mobile. And the book and...

It makes no sense, I read it from cover to cover.

Excellent work, DI Goodman.

-So, where's the prisoner?

-Prisoner, sir?

Why, Judge Stone, of course.

Dwayne informs me you were about to arrest her.

-Huh.

-That's not what I said... Commissioner.

-Did you do it in public?

-Well, actually,

it was more of a follow-up interview with Judge Stone.

A follow-up interview?

Some further questions.

So, you didn't arrest her?

No cause to, sir.

So, I came all the way down here to watch you bring her in.

Sorry, sir.

It's disappointing, I know.

I checked the firearms register

and guess who owns a .45-calibre?

Right.

I'll drive this time.

-I'm an excellent driver.

-No, you're not!

This is practically harassment.

We appreciate your co-operation.

-Never even use the damn thing.

-Then why keep it?

It's a dangerous world.

A man has a right to protect his own property.

Does that include his wife?

There you go. Knock yourself out.

-It's gone.

-What?

-It's not there.

I can't understand. It was...it was here.

When was the last time you saw it?

I cleaned it a week ago.

Did you lock the safe afterwards?

Of course I locked it.

Who else has access to the key?

Campese's lying.

He did seem genuinely surprised to find it wasn't in the safe.

Someone else could have broken into the club and stole the gun.

Come on. The Reef Club's security system is state of the art.

Only a pro could be able to breach it undetected.

And they'd also have to have access to the key.

All right, but why would she kill him? They were going to America together.

No, they weren't. Carlton was all set to go. But not Lauren.

Her passport had been out of date for the past two years.

Carlton booked flights but there's no way Lauren could have travelled.

Why you checking up on this?

Because we do routine background checks on all suspects,

you know that...

Sergeant.

We know Carlton was killed by a woman.

We need to bring her in, Fidel.

Just give me half an hour.

OK.

-What happened? Is it Marc?

-Where's the gun, Lauren?

-What gun?

-The one you took from the safe.

-What are you talking about?

-You had no intention of leaving.

What? Of course I did. I told you, New York, we were flying out...

Without a passport?

I don't know why I didn't renew it.

I wanted to go. I was just...

-..scared.

-Scared of what?

Of everything. Of leaving Marc, the island.

Of starting a new life with Carlton. What if it didn't work?

Look, you know what he was like. Nothing ever frightened him.

It was all one big adventure. Me?

I'm a coward.

I wish I wasn't.

I wish I'd left with him. Then he'd still be alive.

What about the gun?

OK, I took the gun. But only to give it to Carlton for protection.

-Protection from what?

-From Marc.

Look, when he found out about the affair he was livid.

He said that he was going to deal with Carlton and he meant it.

I had to do something.

So, I took the gun. I don't know if I was protecting Carlton from Marc.

Or Marc from himself. I went round to Carlton's.

I told him that Marc knew

and that he should take the gun just in case something happened.

And what did Carlton say?

He didn't want it. He said he wasn't afraid of Marc.

But what happened with the gun?

Well, I left it there.

-We didn't find it, Lauren.

-No...

I did not kill Carlton. I loved him.

How is she?

She's scared.

-Are you OK?

-No, not really.

Looks like a fun night.

Yeah. One of the best.

Carlton was a handsome boy.

And he knew it.

Bonjour, Catherine. Oh, boy.

-Tough few days, huh?

-Yeah.

Listen, about the passport check...

You were doing your job.

Sorry about Lauren.

Yeah, me too. I wish I could help her.

Yes, it's a pity we can't find the gun.

-She said she left it at the villa.

-And you believe her?

-Yes.

-Then let's go and look for it.

Dwayne, we searched the grounds and the house already.

Then let's search them again. Come on.

Honore Police.

Sir?

What you doing here?

-Looking for the gun. You?

-Same.

So you believe Lauren's story?

Let's just say I have a lot of questions that remain unanswered.

-Like what?

-Well, for starters

we're looking for a woman who hated Carlton enough to want to kill him.

Problem is every woman we've spoken to absolutely loved him.

And why take the mobile phone?

And why not call you when he was in trouble?

You're a good friend, you were close by...

I wasn't a good friend.

I cut off all contact with him when I graduated from police college.

Ah, I see.

It wasn't easy but...

But being friends with a male escort would have been a bit awkward?

Do you think I was wrong?

Well, can't have friendship without mutual respect.

-Golden rule, don't do anything to harm each other.

-Exactly.

And Carlton being an escort, I didn't think it was a good

idea for me to be around him as a police officer...

Then again, friendship's not really about rules. It's about

sticking by each other no matter what.

You're right. I let him down.

I threw away my best friend because I thought he'd reflect badly on me.

What did you just say?

Carlton's job. I was too worried about how it reflected on me.

Reflect.

Carlton loved art.

It inspired him.

There she was demanding that Carlton let her in.

What time is it?

It's almost five.

Right! OK.

Go and pick up Camille, and I will meet you both there in an hour.

Meet us where?

The gallery, of course.

The auction should have started half an hour ago.

My customers are getting very restless.

We are waiting for DI Goodman.

-Where the hell is he?

-He said he'd be here.

Sorry. Sorry to keep you all waiting.

-Where's Mr Campese?

-Probably changing the locks.

You want us to arrest him.

-No, actually that won't be necessary.

-Why not?

Because he didn't do it.

Before we begin, I think we should all take a moment to reflect

upon the work of Albert Peter Dunn.

And who is Albert Peter Dunn?

He was a travel writer.

Not a good travel writer but a very thorough one.

He came to Saint Marie in 1929 while researching this.

Walks of the Caribbean,

a set of three books describing every hike,

stroll and ramble in the region.

This is volume two. 500 pages long.

Crammed full of meticulous detail and painstaking research.

It also happens to be very, very dull.

Sorry, is there a point to this?

Yes. The point?

Well, the point is that like Albert Dunn, Carlton was also very thorough.

We know that he went to great lengths to research his clients

and their interests.

Probably what made him so good at his job.

He took the time to get to know them, to find

out who they were and what they needed.

Carlton played a different role for each of his clients.

Sometimes as a lover...

..sometimes a friend.

Er, sorry!

No, not that one.

Yes! Right!

So, let's start with what we think we know about the night Carlton died.

At 7:00 Carlton leaves the gallery

because he had an argument with Marc Campese.

Outside he tells Dorothy Foster he'll be back soon.

At 8:15 he refuses to answer his door to Dorothy.

At 8:30 he makes a call to the police

and says that a woman is trying to kill him.

And sometime between then and 8:35

Carlton Paris is shot dead.

And not one of those statements is true.

It was all one big con.

Oh, actually, wait,

the part about Carlton saying he was coming back to the gallery,

that was true. But everything else was a lie.

Carlton didn't leave the gallery because he was angry at Mr Campese.

In fact, he'd already planned to go.

And it wasn't that he wouldn't open his door to Dorothy.

But rather that he couldn't open his door.

And he never made a call to the police

and he wasn't shot between 8:30 and 8:35.

So, back to the start again

and the real reason why Carlton left the gallery.

He was going home to fetch something.

To fetch what, exactly?

Walks of the Caribbean, of course.

See, Carlton spotted something in this book that would have caused

a bit of a scandal.

Albert Dunn's description of his walk around Saint Marie harbour.

"The harbour is quaint, yet little used,

"save for a few local fishing boats.

"The waters around Saint Marie are too treacherous for any larger

"vessels to chance.

"However this may soon change as a lighthouse is currently being

"erected."

That would be this lighthouse here, the one reflected in the bottle.

The one built in 1929. Two years after the artist had died.

Looked it up in your catalogue.

So, you see...

..there is no way that Durosseau could have painted that painting.

And that's how Carlton knew that The Girl from the Mermaid is a fake.

This is ridiculous.

Carlton told you of his suspicions.

Thank you for sharing.

I can bring the proof to you.

-Ah.

-The glamour's arrived.

He must have thought that you were a victim of a fraud.

He can't have known that you were involved or

he would have exposed you there and then.

You knew

that if he came back with that proof,

well, then you could say goodbye to that quarter of a million dollars.

And if it was discovered that you knew it was a fake,

well, then you'd be facing a lengthy jail sentence.

You went off to Carlton's villa.

I imagine you tried to reason with him at first,

maybe even tried to bribe him with a cut of the auction fee.

But Carlton, Carlton wouldn't bite.

And then it appeared before you, Marc Campese's gun.

You took the book and you were about to leave when...

you saw a chance to cover your tracks. Carlton's mobile phone.

The deed done. You returned to your

guests as if nothing had happened.

Come the end of the night, you had one more con to play.

A phone call to the police station using Carlton's phone to make

-it seem like he was still alive.

-Hello?

-IMPERSONATES CARLTON:

-Hello? Police.

My name is Carlton Paris. I'm at 125 Shore Road.

She's got a gun.

Hey? Where are you going?

A nice touch with that "she's got a gun".

What with Carlton being an escort you knew we'd be

looking at one of his clients.

And the phone call made us

think that Carlton was still alive an hour after you killed him...

..when you had two police officers who could vouch for your alibi.

See, Carlton never called his friend when he was in trouble

because it wasn't him making the call.

You managed to fake a murder.

Shame that you couldn't fake a painting.

Top drawer, I guess.

Just as I thought. Walks of the Caribbean Volume Two.

No doubt covered with Carlton's fingerprints.

-And the phone?

-It's Carlton's.

All the evidence we need, I'd say.

-I'll buy them from you for a penny.

-What?

Your thoughts. That's what English people say,

isn't it? "I'll pay one penny for your thought."

You mean "a penny for them".

-Yeah, that's what I said.

-Yes, almost.

You're not going to do your baked beans on toast speech again?

-No.

-I don't mind.

-No!

-Cool!

I suppose I am a bit lonely.

Bound to be, I've been with Sally, you see.

And now I'm not. And it takes a bit of adjusting.

Even looked at an internet dating site.

-Really? Did you do it?

-No.

But there might be someone out there, just waiting for you...

-You think?

-Why not?

Well, I'm afraid I fell at the first hurdle, you see.

It said "Name your three best qualities." I put catching

murderers as my number one, then I sort of ran out of steam.

Don't suppose you can think of anything else?

Er, no.

Ah! Right. Thought not.

I'm teasing.

You can put that you're kind, you're handsome, and you're very sexy...

Really?

Of course! It's internet.

Everyone lies.

There was a party last night.

-I reckon there will be another one tonight.

-Ms Siebert?

Natasha Siebert, a 35-year-old air hostess. Suspicious death.

I could think of 100 flight attendants that people would gladly murder.

-Max, but not Natasha.

-We found some fingerprints in Natasha's room.

-Do you want to see the real Saint Marie?

-Yes.