Episode 6 Death in Paradise

Watch your step - bit tricky along here.

The nesting site's not far now.

We overnight ahead, and push on first thing.

Yeah, and I was lucky enough to get to Cyprus, finally.

-Yeah,

-I

-did Cyprus. It was OK.

I got a red-backed shrike and a Bonelli's Eagle on the first day.

Boom.

-Good Lord.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah! I had my own guide.

I don't know, it was a-mazing.

I bet it was.

So, have you ever seen a Bonelli's Eagle, Alec?

It's OK to say no!

-I'll make a start with the clearing up, then.

-That's MY job.

No, no, let Doris get her pinny out(!)

HE LAUGHS

I'll give you a hand.

So, are we going to see the Saint-Marie Green tomorrow, Cap?

I'll do me best, guv, I'll do me best.

I went to Borneo a couple of months ago.

Did the northern mountain range.

-Did you see the Serpent Eagle?

-I wish.

They don't think it's going to survive, you know.

-There are only two breeding pairs, last I heard.

-That's terrible.

There were 18 pairs, no more than three years ago.

-What happened?

-Poachers.

What, people steal them?

The eggs.

I'm so jealous. I've always wanted to see that part of the world.

-Where else have you been?

-This year?

Ah, Madagascar, Vietnam, Nepal on the way back.

Oh, super!

Yeah, I get away when I can.

Someone should teach him some manners.

Yes.

They probably should.

What do you want me to do? There's no signal up here.

We can go back now if you want?

What, miss the chance of seeing the Green?

Good night's sleep, up at dawn,

quick bite to eat, then down to the hide.

Look, don't worry, it'll keep.

BIRD SQUAWKS

Yasmin? Yasmin?

Don't suppose you fancy a nightcap?

You know I don't. Now, go to bed!

Mr Burton, quick, wake up! It's Mr Talbot.

He's going without you! He's trying to see the Green first.

Look!

What the...!

Sneaky...!

Come on, everyone. Up!

-Captain Jack?

-What is it?

-We need to get moving.

-What's going on?

-Mr Talbot's already left.

-Hang on, how long's he been gone?

-Minute or so.

-OK, OK, just give me a sec.

-Oh, joy!

You'd better get your trousers on.

Talbot's gone already? It's a bit underhand, even for him.

-Right, come on, everyone. Quickly, come on!

-All right, all right!

BIRDS CHIRP

-Almost there.

-You hear that? That's them!

-The Greens!

-Yeah, I'm worried he's seen them, then scared them away.

SHE SCREAMS

SHE WHISTLES

-Sir?

-What?

Morning.

Ah! Morning, Camille.

Sorry, er, must have, er...

Oh, you, erm...

Yeah.

Ah, coffee. What's the occasion?

-Murder.

-Right.

-Two ticks.

-Mm-hm.

Oh, you'll need boots - we're off to the jungle.

Excellent!

What's in the jungle?

A group of birdwatchers.

And our victim?

One of the group. Mark Talbot, British.

Well, we'd better get out there, hadn't we?

Come on, Camille, no time to dilly-dally!

Ah, brilliant!

The parrot reserve - I've been meaning to come here.

So, what have we got?

Well, the victim was here as part of a bird-watching tour group.

-Yes, to see the elusive Saint-Marie Green.

-Really?

-Exciting.

He travelled here with his wife. She's staying at a local hotel.

She has been informed.

He's been stabbed once, through the back and into the heart.

The knife has the initials MLT engraved on the hilt,

so we assume it belonged to the victim.

There are no prints, it's been wiped clean.

He had a camera on him, a pair of binoculars and nothing's been taken.

-Not robbery, then.

-No.

And this was inside his left shirt pocket.

One sock?

Bit odd.

The other one not hereabouts?

-Ugh!

-Clean!

One fresh sock. Anything else?

-Er, life list?

-Sir?

Life list. Every self-respecting twitcher would have one.

It'll be a notebook - a list of all the birds they've seen,

-where, when, etc.

-"Twitcher"?

Yes, it's a hardcore birdwatcher.

-Is there something you want to tell us, Chief?

-N-No!

Well, I may have done a bit of bird-watching in my youth.

Just me, the trees... a lesser-spotted grebe or two.

Right.

-Well, there was no notebook, no.

-No.

So, who found the body?

The rest of the tour group.

They were all together when they found him.

But our man was on his own. Why?

The staff think he wanted to beat the others to see the bird first.

So once they saw him go, they followed him here.

-How far behind were they?

-About a couple of minutes.

-OK, and where is camp, exactly?

-About half a mile that way.

OK, so tell me about this tour.

It was an organised trip, two members of staff

and four guests, all hoping to see the Saint-Marie Green.

-Any sightings?

-I didn't ask, Chief.

-Pity.

So, what do we know about the others?

We have Alec Burton,

he's from the same bird-watching club as Mr Talbot in the UK.

Seems a bit odd.

Matthew Webster, specialises in bird photography.

Been on a couple of previous trips with Mr Talbot.

He's a bit odd too.

Daniel Parish, new to the group.

He's a birdwatcher, and freelance journalist.

Let me guess - a bit odd?

How did you know?

A wild stab in the dark.

Anyway, Mr Parish got very excited when he talked about the parrot.

Well, to be honest with you, they all did. Very odd.

Odd, perhaps, but not entirely surprising.

It is, after all, why they're all here.

And the staff?

Yasmin Blake, casual worker, just here for the season,

and Captain Jack Parrot, the tour leader.

Now, I know Captain Jack from way back in the day.

He's a bit of a rogue, but harmless enough, you know?

The fellow taking pictures?

Get the camera and any memory cards for me. Could be useful.

With pleasure, Chief.

So, apart from our two members of staff

and three fellow twitchers...

I can't let you have it - it's actually quite valuable.

-Who else could get in here?

-No-one, sir.

Reserve security is pretty tight.

The Saint-Marie Green is extremely rare

and protected by the government. It's all fenced off.

Security cameras at the entrance show that no-one else came in

-or out since the group arrived yesterday.

-So what's the likelihood

of a member of the general public scaling the fence,

fighting their way through the jungle unnoticed

-in order to plunge a knife into Mr Talbot's back?

-Not very likely.

-No.

It would appear that the world of bird-watching may be slightly

more cut-throat than one might assume.

Ah! Captain Jack Parrot!

A triumph of nominative determinism.

What?

Your name. Parrot.

-The business you're in.

-His real name's Jack Stanton, sir.

What a shame. Never mind.

Er, so, tell me, er, how does this tour of yours work, exactly?

-We've got 16 species of parrot here.

-Really?

-Yeah!

But mostly they come to see the, er, Saint-Marie Green.

They're incredibly rare. Only one nesting pair left.

I have a deal with the parrot reserve to officially conduct

tours for interested parties, mainly birdwatchers.

Can you take us through what happened this morning?

I woke Mr Burton.

Any particular reason?

To be honest, I felt a bit sorry for him.

Mr Talbot was always belittling him.

So, have you ever seen the Bonelli's Eagle, Alec?

It's OK to say no.

You felt he was trying to outdo Mr Burton

-by getting to the Saint-Marie Green first?

-Yes.

How long till you all followed?

Two, three minutes, I suppose.

I mean, they were all pretty angry.

And you all stayed together on the trail until you found the body?

Yes.

SHE SCREAMS

It was awful. I mean, that poor man!

So, you and Miss Blake must've been the last people

-to see Mr Talbot alive.

-Yes, I suppose we were.

Look!

What the...?

Sneaky...!

It wasn't right, sneaking off like that.

Quite. You must have been angry.

Seething, if I'm honest.

So, you didn't get on?

Look, he's not...ah, sorry, he WASN'T really my kind of person.

But you were both twitchers. Members of the same club.

Birders. The correct term is "birders".

And actually common interest doesn't necessarily guarantee friendship.

Let's just say, he was a difficult man to like.

If I'm perfectly honest,

I can fully understand why someone might want to murder him.

But, er, it certainly wasn't me.

Did you know Mr Talbot well?

Er, no, no, look, when can I get my camera back?

But you'd been on trips with him before?

Once...once or twice maybe.

-It's very valuable, you know.

-Yeah.

Were you the last one up this morning?

No, that was Dan Parish, I think.

Come on, everyone. Up!

-Hang on, how long's he been gone?

-Minute or so.

You'd better get your trousers on.

The rest of the group - did you form any impression of them?

Not really.

No, look, I can come to the station if that...if that helps.

No, that won't be necessary,

we're just trying to establish your relationship with Mr Talbot.

I need to get my camera!

So, you're a journalist?

Well, I write the odd article for the bird magazines.

-This one might make the dailies, though, right?

-Indeed.

-Been in the wars?

-It's just a scratch.

I free climb.

-Free climb?

-Yeah.

No ropes.

Hell of a rush, you should try it some time.

Yes, well, I've never been much good at climbing.

Falling down, I am good at. A dab hand, you might say!

Were you aware of any antagonism between Mr Talbot and Mr Burton?

Well, that was the first time we'd met,

but Talbot did seem to enjoy winding him up.

Let Doris get her pinny out!

Did he have problems with anyone else?

Let's just say he was never going to win the prize

for the most popular campmate. He was fine with me.

Do you have a card? In case I run into something later?

-Yes, that'll be all, I think, for now.

-Well...

-you know where I am.

-Yes, we do.

You seem to have made quite an impression on him.

Rather inappropriate, given the circumstances.

Not that I'm saying you'd be interested in someone like that.

-Like what?

-Er, well, you know...

-No.

-Well, a suspect in a murder inquiry.

Ah, yes, you're right, I wouldn't be interested.

-Yes.

-But besides, I've already got a date for tonight.

You want us to release everyone, Chief?

Erm, er, er, yes.

Er, yes, I think you can.

From the moment Miss Blake woke them up,

after seeing the victim leaving for the hide,

everyone was in clear sight of everyone else.

So none of them could have killed him.

Yet, if we're to believe this area is inaccessible to anyone else,

one of them MUST have.

So, it's impossible.

Yet the murder can't be impossible,

because Mr Talbot is very dead indeed.

So sorry, Dwayne.

-Ah, sir?

-Yes?

-Is this what you're looking for?

Yes! It is, yes!

Wonderful.

Mmm, right.

So, he gets up early,

he heads down the path to see the Saint-Marie Green.

He takes his camera, his knife,

but not his life list in which he meticulously details every sighting.

And yet, why, of all things, does he take one clean sock?

It really doesn't make any sense.

-Oh!

-Ow!

-Thank you.

-You're welcome.

-Uh-oh!

-What?

That's going to stain, Chief.

Yes, well, I'll change later.

For now I think we should go and speak to Mr Talbot's widow.

Yep.

Where can we find Mrs Talbot?

At the same hotel as the birdwatchers.

I wonder what he's up to.

Camille.

Something we can help you with?

Got a few things to do.

What sort of things?

Parrot stuff.

Well, I'm afraid this is now a crime scene.

We'll let you know when you can come back.

We're so sorry for your loss.

We'll be as brief as we can.

Thank you.

We have to ask -

do you know why anyone might have wanted to harm your husband?

Not enough to want to kill him.

Are you aware of anything untoward happening

since you arrived on, er, on Saint-Marie?

He was gone within an hour of me unpacking.

Went off to the jungle to see his precious bloody parrot.

-You don't share his interest in birds?

-God, no.

I didn't mind him doing it, he wasn't so good with...all of this.

Were you aware of any problems with the other birdwatchers?

As I said, he didn't bore me with it.

So, you didn't get to know any of them?

I was married to one,

I certainly didn't seek out the company of others.

Did your husband own a hunting knife? With an engraving -

the, er, the initials MLT?

Yes. Mark Lawrence Talbot.

He got it in Piccadilly. It cost him a fortune.

-That wasn't...?

-Sorry.

It appears your husband left camp early in an attempt

to get ahead of the others.

Is that something you'd expect of him?

No, not really.

He was competitive, but Mark was also a stickler for the rules,

doing things by the book.

He liked things to be just so.

He's not coming back, is he?

Not going to rock up with his big, daft smile

and stupid, stupid shorts.

We can do this another time.

No, really, it's fine.

I just feel so awful.

It happened this morning, right? Early?

I was having a massage. I couldn't sleep, so I went down to the spa.

It must have been about the same time...

Please, please, don't upset yourself.

We'll leave it there for now.

If it makes it any better...

..he may very well have seen the Saint-Marie Green.

How on earth would that make it any better?

Well, he's a bird...watch...er.

I just thought...

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, too.

-A very impressive woman, Camille.

-Oh? Yeah?

-For her age, I mean. Very...

-Hot?

-Well preserved.

-Mmmm, but you wouldn't be interested in her.

Heavens, no.

-Because?

-Because...

Because she's recently widowed?

No! Because she's a suspect in a murder enquiry.

Is she?

Yes. She just volunteered an alibi - one we never asked for.

Yes, she did! Very well spotted, Camille.

Now, why on earth would she feel the need to do that?

So, Mark Talbot, 51.

Tax accountant for a big City firm.

Apparently he did very well,

made partner and enough money to retire at the age of 45.

Since then, he's thrown himself into his hobby.

Yes. If there's money, we need to know who stood to gain.

The wife could have motive.

But the spa just confirmed her alibi.

Can't say I'm surprised.

Logically, it had to be one of the tour group.

Yes, but they were all together from the moment

he left the camp, right up to discovering his body.

So, three questions.

Who, why and how?

Yes. Matthew Webster. Photographer.

Had been on previous trips with the victim.

Is there something he's not telling us?

His camera and his memory cards are on your desk, Chief.

Thank you. Next, Daniel Parish.

Freelance journalist, birdwatcher, daredevil.

Hasn't travelled with any of the others before.

Would he really want to kill someone he hardly knew?

And, Dwayne, can you tell us about Captain Jack?

Couple of previous convictions for receiving.

Always looking to make a fast buck wherever he can.

He's been married five times.

F...five?

Yes!

Bit of a ladies' man - bit like yourself, eh, Dwayne?

No, Chief. He's been married five times.

Right. Yes, of course.

Well, he seemed jumpy.

-Indeed.

-Knowing Jack, he'll be up to something somewhere.

-But murder?

-Hmm.

OK, next. Yasmin Blake.

Well, she's been travelling, got the job at the start of the season.

Any links to the victim?

None.

But one of them wanted Mark Talbot dead.

Which is the cuckoo in this particular nest?

-HANGS UP PHONE

-OK! That was the victim's club secretary.

She told me Mr Talbot and Mr Burton have history.

At the Christmas lunch they came to blows,

and Mr Burton threatened to kill him.

And now you move to the top of our list.

Leave it to me!

-If you say so. Thank you.

-Go.

-Yes.

Right, I think we should go and speak to Mr Burton again.

-Fidel?

-Sir.

If the witnesses are to be believed, there is, at best,

a three-minute window from when Mr Talbot disappeared from sight

to when the others decided to go after him.

So, the question is this -

could someone have left the camp, got down to the hide, stabbed

Mr Talbot in the back, and then returned in under three minutes?

-Leave that with us, sir.

-Excellent.

-There is something wrong with that board.

-Yeah, must be.

So, you'd better get back out to the jungle, then.

Great!

I was really hoping you'd ask ME, you know?

-Really?

-Yes, you see...

..if I can prove that Burton could get to the hide, kill the victim

and get back on time, I'd have virtually solved the case!

Hey, I might even get promoted!

We'd both be sergeants.

Only, I'm older, which would probably make me more senior.

But that wouldn't matter, er, you know,

I would never, you know, lord it over you or anything like that.

No! My reward would come from being the man

who solved one of the Chief's cond...cond...

-What does he call that thing again?

-Conundrums?

-Exactly!

-Yes.

Dwayne Myers, the man who solved

the bird-watching twitcher murder conundrum!

Hey! And who knows -

I could be commissioner one day, you know!

-Yes, ai.

-Yes, ai.

BEEPING

Gee, man!

Merci.

Mr Burton?

Blue-backed Manakins. There's a colony across the way there.

It is a bit common for around here,

-but we don't get them back home, do we?

-Mr Burton?

Oh, look, there's a juvenile, trying to make a name for himself.

Mr Burton? Hello.

We've, er, spoken to your club secretary.

Must've been, er, checking up on me, then?

Well, this IS a murder inquiry.

Christmas lunch, you and Mr Talbot came to blows.

There were threats. Why didn't you tell us about that?

He was being his usual obnoxious self.

Much like he was last night, by all accounts.

Exactly like he was being last night.

Was it to do with your wife?

You just, er, keep touching your ring finger,

touching something that isn't there anymore - your wedding ring.

Yeah, my, er, my wife,

Pamela. She left me.

November 5th. Ten days before our 16th anniversary.

I'm...I'm sorry. Really.

That Christmas lunch, the first time I'd ventured out -

actually more than that, it was the first social occasion

I'd been to without her for 16 years.

Mark found that rather amusing.

Even offered an opinion as to why she left me,

wondered why she hadn't left me sooner.

Said I was dull and boring.

Yeah, all true, course.

So, yes.

Yes, we came to blows.

The red mist descended, I wanted to kill him.

If I'd had a knife in my hand that day...

..would I have used it?

Yes, I probably would.

Wow! He really didn't like Mark Talbot.

-Perhaps with good reason.

-But how could he have done it?

See, we keep coming back to that.

We must be missing something. Someone has to be lying.

-The two Ds.

-The what?

Diligence and detail.

We go back through the statements, find the inconsistencies.

So we have a motive for Alec Burton.

You really think he's capable of murder?

Anyone's capable of murder if suitably riled.

Riled?

Absolutely. Even the most sunny of disposition and mild of manner.

It's all a question of trigger - the right spot to tweak, if you will.

Yes. And...

Yeah...

So you said you had a date tonight?

Yes, another one of Maman's ideas.

He, erm, he's the nephew of a friend of hers, I think.

Oh, you've never met him?

No.

-Gosh. A blind date, how exciting.

-Mm-hm.

Do you know anything about him? What does he do for a living?

Models swimwear.

Really? Is that a profession?

I think so.

Yes, I never had much luck when my mother organised dates for me,

even my wi... Sally and I... Well, we're getting divorced,

so, er, that wasn't exactly the best outcome, was it?

-You need to see this.

-Yes.

In his statement, Matthew Webster says

he heard an exchange between Mark Talbot and Yasmin Blake

after dinner, the night before he was killed.

What do you want me to do?

There's no signal up here. We can go back now if you want?

What - miss the chance of seeing the Green?

-Miss Blake didn't mention it?

-No, she didn't.

I guess I forgot. I mean, you don't think it could be important?

Oh, it could be. Do you remember who Mr Talbot was trying to call?

His wife, I think.

Do you have any idea why?

Maybe they're inseparable, I don't know! Look, I'm staff.

I run the camp, clean up after them.

He's not likely to tell ME, is he?

Did he seem worried?

It was hard to tell with him.

Is there anything you haven't told us? Anything at all?

It could be vital.

No, I don't think so. Look, I'm sorry.

You started at the reserve two months ago?

Is this your first time on the island?

First time in the Caribbean. Last year I did Cambodia and Vietnam.

Amazing.

Do you always use the same route for the tour of the reserve?

Since I've been here.

Captain Jack takes us to the feeding grounds on day one, then we bed down

at base camp, and go to the hide by the nesting sites in the morning.

Look, if there's nothing else, I really need to get on.

No, that'll do, I think, for now.

Thank you, then.

HE GASPS

Why would Mark Talbot want to call his wife?

He'd been gone less than a day, and from what I saw,

she was clearly in her element.

Maybe he was using her as an excuse?

Let's see if the photographs from Matthew Webster's camera have

finished downloading - maybe there'll be something there.

Come on, darling, what about dinner at the Bay Cove? ..Really?!

DWAYNE LAUGHS

That's odd.

What is?

Look at these pictures of Mark Talbot.

In every one he's walking with a cane.

Dwayne?

Chief?

Was there a walking cane found at the scene?

-No, Chief.

-At the camp?

No.

Then, where is it?

..I'll bring my friend Ronnie.

HE WHISTLES

Oh!

Did the coppers mention me?

I don't think so.

What do you mean, you don't think so?

They either did or they didn't.

No, they didn't.

So what were they asking you?

Someone told them Mr Talbot wanted to call someone.

Who?

His wife.

Jack? What's going on?

OK, so I worked within the three-minute window -

from the group losing sight of Mr Talbot

to them all heading down the trail together.

First, on the main route from the camp to the hide...

Then on two further routes I discovered - here to the east,

and another one to the west.

The jungle is too thick elsewhere for quick progress.

The different routes allow for multiple permutations,

-all of which I've tried.

-And your best time?

6 minutes 52.9 seconds.

So, none of them could have left the camp, got down to the hide,

killed Mark Talbot and got back in time?

-No, sir.

-So how the hell did they do it?

-Oh, and one more question.

-Sir.

Don't suppose you found a cane?

The man is observed leaving camp.

Look!

The group follows and discovers his murdered body.

WOMAN SCREAMS

Logically, only someone from that group must have done it.

And yet none of them was out of sight of the others.

Tricky.

Yes, you are, as ever, the master of understatement, Dwayne.

Mark Talbot was trying to make a call, but we don't know to whom.

That feels quite important.

He was using a walking cane which seems to have disappeared.

Which is a bit of a mystery.

He went to see one of the rarest birds on the planet,

but didn't take his life list. Puzzling.

But he did take a single sock.

Which is just weird but does seem to be quite important, somehow.

We're missing something.

Maybe we should talk to Captain Jack again.

You won't get nothing from him.

He's been interviewed a hell of a lot over the years.

-He is at the centre of all this.

-We could watch him.

It's not a bad idea.

-Dwayne, do you have any plans for this evening?

-Well...

Excellent. Then a spot of surveillance on Captain Jack,

-if you will, thank you.

-Chief.

Yes, well, it is getting quite late,

not sure we can achieve much more today.

Perhaps we could look over Matthew Webster's

photographs at the shack?

I've perfected the art of tuna pasta.

Ah.

-What?

-Normally, this would be nice.

-You've got your date!

-Sorry.

-The swimwear model.

-Mm-hm.

No, no, gosh, don't apologise. A night out on the town.

I should be going...

Yes. Ah, you know what?

I don't really feel much like cooking.

Maybe I could just pop out and fetch something to eat.

That's a good idea.

Yes, and it's fish night at your mother's tonight, isn't it?

-Yes.

-Marvellous. I love fish.

You'll be late.

All right, Maman.

-Be nice.

-Hmmm.

Good evening, sir.

BIRDS CALL

Here are the menus. The special dish today is chicken.

Can I get you a drink?

A cocktail? Two cocktails?

It's hard work, you know?

Have to stick to a strict regime.

Skin, hair, teeth and eyes... twice a day.

So that's moisturise, conditioner, floss and drops.

-Eyes are so important, don't you think?

-Oh, yes.

I mean, I know it's swimwear

and eyes are going to be travelling south,

but the camera picks out your eyes, so I try and talk through them.

Smile with the eyes -

"smeyes."

Then I wax chest and back weekly, sack and crack monthly.

Yes, hold that thought. Thank you.

Hey.

Hey.

Can I buy you a drink?

No, thank you, I'm here with someone. Never mind.

I've just seen Yasmin Blake - was she here to see you?

-The girl from the reserve?

-Yes.

Why would she be?

Thought you might be able to tell ME.

Well, whatever she was here for, it wasn't for me.

You sure I can't buy you that drink?

Positive. Thank you.

Have a feel of that.

-You see?

-Yeah.

-All the hard work, that.

-So where did you find it?

-Not far from the main path.

-Discarded, maybe?

-Or lost in a struggle.

Yes, possibly. Isn't that Captain Jack?

Psssst.

Was that you?

No.

Psssst.

Sounds like a puncture.

It's me, Chief.

What are you doing?

I'm on surveillance.

Captain Jack.

-Go and drink somewhere else!

-Why?

You have to ask? He can see you!

But, Dwayne, we're not on surveillance.

Yeah, but he don't know that!

Won't it look suspicious if we just got up and went?

OK, maybe I'll just come and sit with you guys, and have a drink.

Yes, but won't he see you?

But he'll think I'm with YOU.

But you're on surveillance.

You know, you're right dopey sometimes.

Look, sir, I'd better go. It's getting late

and I'm aching in places I didn't even know I had places.

I'll process this in the morning.

Yes, excellent, Fidel. Thank you. Good work.

-Night, sir.

-Night.

Oh, and, er, night, Dwayne.

Night!

I don't know. I'm giving up.

-Fancy a drink?

-Oh, no, thanks.

So it's just me, then. Great.

Dwayne!

Yes, Chief?

Since the, er, surveillance is getting us nowhere,

why don't you try plying him with alcohol?

Worth a go. He loves a drink.

Hey, Jack. Te mal.

-I hear you're working on surveillance.

-How you know that?

Somebody tell me they see you working in your undercover shirt.

Oh, this! Yes, I am!

Who you watching, man?

Doesn't matter. Buy you a drink?

-Sure, man!

-Come now!

HE CLEARS THROAT

-Mm.

-Ah. Already sorted.

Thought that might be a thing we were doing now, but obviously not.

Fidel?

Right, I might be climbing the walls. Anything on the cane?

Actually, yes, it's semi-porous, so it's difficult to lift prints.

A partial from the victim, a few smudges,

but there's nothing that we can use.

Would you mind showing me exactly where you found it?

Yes, sure.

Um, I found it...just...here.

Halfway along the track.

-Sir, Mr Talbot's lawyers got back to us.

-Mmm...

Mrs Talbot inherits around £3.2 million.

It's just a pity she was nowhere near him when he was killed.

-No, I think I can help with that.

-Excuse me?

-She didn't need to be.

-An accomplice?

Maybe. Look at these. I found them last night...

among Matthew Webster's ornithological studies.

-And she said she didn't know any of the group.

-Yes, she lied.

Few too many perhaps, Dwayne?

Right, let's see what Mr Webster has to say for himself first, shall we?

DWAYNE MOANS

Coffee.

This isn't really a very good time. Can't this wait?

No, it can't, I'm afraid.

Oh, just let them in, Matthew.

Well, that confirms a theory

and scraps an initial line of questioning.

You lied to us.

You said you didn't know anyone of the group.

A mistake on my part. I didn't want to complicate matters.

You deliberately withheld information.

You're reading too much into things.

Look...we're just friends.

Ah, for heaven's sake, Matthew, stop pussyfooting around.

A while ago we had a...liaison.

It was last August, we were on another birding trip,

and, well, I'd seen Gloria with Mark before

but we'd never spoken, not properly.

Mark went off to look at another nesting site that he'd found.

I came back to the hotel.

I was upset. I'd been abandoned and, well, Matthew was very kind.

We had a glorious afternoon. Nothing more.

You really expect us to believe that?

I really don't care what you believe. It's the truth.

-Your husband never suspected?

-Lord, no.

If he'd found out, he would have killed me. Both of us.

Something you no longer need to worry about.

Your husband was trying to make a phone call

the night before he was murdered.

Do you have any idea who he might have wanted to call?

No. Look, Inspector, despite what you may believe,

I loved my husband.

He could be a pain, but he was a good man...

and I expect you to find his killer.

She has 3.2 million reasons to want him dead.

And her lover was on the scene, but what use is that

if we're no closer to working out how he could have done it,

-or how ANY of them could have done it?

-Are you riled?

Yes, Camille, I most definitely am.

So, how was your date?

-It wasn't great.

-Do you want to talk about it?

No, not really.

Though I did see Yasmin Blake at Birds Of Paradise Hotel.

Oh? You think she was there to see one of the group?

Maybe. So what do you want to do?

See if Dwayne's drunk enough coffee to tell us about Captain Jack.

Oh! I really thought I could drink, you know,

but that man's not human, Chief.

-You've been very brave.

-Thank you, Sarge.

Yes, maybe there's a commendation I can put you forward for(!)

Do you actually remember anything?

Of course I do.

So?

No-one really liked Mark Talbot.

He was a little too full of himself, you know?

Matthew Webster kept away from him.

Oh! We can guess why that was.

Jack didn't really like Daniel Parish or Alec Burton.

He also said that Yasmin Blake was a tease.

First she was all over him -

as soon as she got the job she turned into the ice queen.

-Mmm. Is that it?

-Pretty much.

You don't think he was hiding something?

If he is, the amount I'd have to drink to get it out of him,

I could die, Chief.

Yes. Yes, well, I think you can stand down for now.

Thanks, Chief.

Come on, think! What are we missing?

Why did he discard his cane halfway down the trail?

If he was going to see the Saint-Marie Green

and to do so before the others,

why did he not take his life list to log the sighting?

Who was he trying to call? And why, oh, why,

only take one...clean...sock?

You know, it's a long way from the innocent pastime of my youth.

I'm sorry, I don't get what you see in it. It's boring.

Sometimes boredom is just the ticket.

You know, big house, big family, when you're the youngest,

and the joke is generally on you, even when you still can't

really see what the joke actually is and why it's funny.

It's not boring at all. It's... It's compelling - joyous, even.

You know, I once spent two whole weeks

watching a house sparrow nest, waiting for the eggs to hatch,

the pair coming and going,

taking it in turns to keep the eggs warm.

It was two of the happiest weeks of my life.

-Eggs. Eggs.

-Sir?

Could it really be that simple?

Fidel! In all the statements the victim talked about egg thefts.

See what you can find out. Quick as you can, please.

Check with the club first.

That's it!

It has to be it!

Look to the simple first, Humphrey, always the simple first.

You've got it?

I think I've got a "why" or a possible "why".

And, of course, I've got a possible "how". No, it's the ONLY "how".

OK. What about the "who"?

Well, the "who" is kind of easy.

Once you have the "how", it's just a case of simple elimination.

Where are those witness statements again?

So it can't be you, can it? No, not possible.

Can it be you? No!

Come on, think! Don't complicate it!

Think simple.

Oh, Lordy, it's you, isn't it?

Sir.

No, of course, why wouldn't it be you?

-It's you and it works! ..What is it?

-The egg theft -

a full report was prepared for the committee.

-God bless the club committee.

-Yes,

Serpent Eagle eggs were taken from a nest worth thousands of pounds.

There's been a series of thefts recently - it's all here.

Passports. Visas.

Thank you.

A-ha! We have our cuckoo.

Jeez.

Fidel, Dwayne, get everyone together - the tour group,

staff, the base camp, I think. We're going to need Mrs Talbot too. Yes.

Shall we?

BIRDS CALL

Mark Talbot, avid birdwatcher, arrives on Saint-Marie with

the intention of seeing one of the rarest birds in the world.

The Saint-Marie Green. Fantastic.

He's so excited that on the morning he's due to visit the nesting site,

he sneaks off to the hide,

discarding his walking cane along the way, for no apparent reason.

He doesn't take his life list to record the event

as he has done a hundred times before.

But he does take his knife and a single woollen sock.

Shortly after arriving at the hide, he is murdered with that knife.

Yet despite him seemingly trying to outdo

and out-manoeuvre his fellow twitchers...

erm, sorry, birders - the correct term is birders -

his wife would have us believe that he was a man who liked to play fair.

He was competitive, but Mark was also a stickler for the rules,

doing things by the book.

And the security at the reserve meant that,

although not impossible, it was highly unlikely

anyone from the outside could have got in to murder Mr Talbot.

In other words, it had to be one of you.

So which one of you wanted him dead?

His devoted wife and Mr Webster -

to stop him discovering their affair -

or "liaison", as Mrs Talbot described it?

Or Mr Burton, who clearly hated him?

The staff didn't seem to like him much.

In fact, the only person

who appeared to have any time for him at all was you, Mr Parish.

Sorry. Thank you.

So, what actually happened that morning?

Well, Mr Talbot did indeed get up early.

He headed down the trail

to the hide. He settled himself down to watch over the nesting site,

at which point he was brutally murdered with his own knife.

Brutally murdered by you,

Mr Parish!

I don't know what you're talking about.

But how can that be? But he was with us.

See, that was always the problem with this case.

The "how" was always going to be the key.

You were all together as you watched the victim

walk away down the trail, you all followed him together,

and you found him dead - again all together.

Fidel, how long did it take to leave the camp, get down to the hide,

stand still for ten seconds and then get back to the camp?

Running flat out, just under seven minutes.

You see, it's impossible, it can't be.

Yet it happened. How?

You see, in the end, the key...

the key was Mr Talbot's discarded cane.

It was something so simple, I really should have seen it sooner.

Miss Blake, you woke Mr Burton

and you both watched Mr Talbot leaving the camp.

-That's right.

-Yes, except you didn't.

-What?

Well, you see, by that time Mr Talbot was already dead.

No, no, we saw him, we saw him.

No, what you actually saw was Mr Parish...

who, thinking ahead, had taken Mark Talbot's cane

and run back to the camp.

Isn't that right, Daniel?

Let me explain. Now...

Little rudimentary.

You walked down the trail using Mr Talbot's stick.

He's trying to see the Green first.

Look!

Sneaky...

You then discarded it here once you were out of sight.

Fidel, how long from where the cane was found, back to the camp?

Just under two minutes, sir.

So, you see, that's the only explanation for why the cane

was where we found it.

And the "how" led us to the "who".

You see, it had to be the person who appeared last.

Now, in all your statements,

Daniel Parish was the person who appeared last that morning.

You discarded the cane and ran back along the path.

-Mr Talbot's already left!

-How long's he been gone?

Minute or so.

And when everyone was back in their tents,

you seized your opportunity.

It's a bit underhand, even for him.

We have a "who".

We even have a "how".

Which just leaves us with the "why".

The night before the killing,

-you were telling the others about your trips.

-So?

So Mark Talbot talked about rare eggs that had been stolen from Borneo.

The last place you visited.

You went on to talk about other places you visited.

Madagascar, Vietnam, Nepal on the way back.

This is a list of high-profile egg thefts taking place

in the past 12 months.

Madagascar. Vietnam. Nepal.

And Borneo. Where the nests were in mountain ranges, on high ledges.

I free climb. No ropes.

Hell of a rush, you should try it some time.

You see, the sale of rare birds' eggs is a thriving business.

There is only one nesting pair of the Saint-Marie Green left.

Their eggs alone would be worth a small fortune to any collector.

So that night, as you talked about your travels

and the places you'd been...

Oh, super!

Yeah, I get away when I can.

Only Mark Talbot

put two and two together. He knew about the egg thefts.

You'd given yourself away.

He knew what you were and the danger you posed.

But then, you see, that's only half the story.

See, because the last piece of the puzzle

is how you managed to get Mark Talbot down to the hide

in the first place.

And that's where you came in, isn't it...Yasmin?

-Me?

-Yes.

You see, I think that's why he wanted to make that phone call.

What do you want me to do? There's no signal up here.

We can go back now if you want?

What - miss the chance of seeing the Green?

Look, don't worry, it'll keep.

That phone call would have been to warn the authorities.

He told you of his suspicions about Dan Parish, didn't he?

Not knowing that you were his accomplice.

-I'll deal with it.

-OK.

-I know what I've got to do.

-Yes.

And by telling you, he signed his own death warrant.

No!

Remind me. Where WERE you before coming to Saint-Marie?

Last year I did Cambodia and Vietnam. Amazing.

See, we checked your visas.

You were there at the same time as Dan Parish.

And that's who you were meeting at the hotel last night.

And then I have the waxing, which is chest and back.

I've just seen Yasmin Blake - was she here to see you?

Why would she be?

He needed you on the inside, didn't he?

So that's why you used all your wiles to get this job,

even giving poor old Captain Jack the wrong impression.

Yasmin? Don't suppose you fancy a nightcap?

No, I don't. Go to bed.

You were the one who got Mark Talbot to go down to the hide early,

no doubt telling him that Daniel Parish would have

to go for the eggs at first light

and that he would have a chance to catch him in the act.

He even took a single woollen sock...

in case he needed to keep the eggs warm.

He wasn't there to see the Saint-Marie Green,

he was lying in wait.

Unaware that he himself was the prey.

Once he was killed, you had to establish your perfect alibis.

Yes, now for that, you needed an independent witness.

Your partner in crime, Yasmin, was waiting at the camp

and you told her that someone needed to be woken up

to corroborate your story.

Look!

Someone who could swear

that he'd last seen Mark Talbot leaving the camp,

making it impossible for either of you to have committed the crime.

An almost perfect murder.

You killed Mark Talbot to silence him and stay out of prison.

Saint-Marie alone carries a minimum custodial sentence of ten years

for the stealing of rare birds' eggs.

You'll both now serve much longer than that. Take them away.

-No, no, no! I didn't know he was going to kill him!

-Shut up!

You told me you were going to threaten him.

No, I did not know he was going to kill him.

You lied to me, I'm not covering up for you any more!

The officer will be happy to take your statement.

OK, look, I've had enough of this.

Come on, you can tell me right now.

Tell you what?

You've been like a cat on a hot tin roof since all this started.

-You're up to something.

-Me?

Yes, you, and I've spent enough money on beer in this place for you

in the last couple of days for you to tell me.

Hang on, hang on. Who am I talking to here?

-Me.

-Yes, I know that...

But which you - Dwayne or Officer Myers?

Me, Dwayne.

Pub rules?

Pub rules.

-I saw it once, you know. The Saint-Marie Green.

-Really? When?

Must be 15, 20 years ago up at the headland.

And?

It was so beautiful. Small, delicate,

green. I knew I shouldn't,

but I wanted a closer look.

Crept up to it, I held my hand out...so close...and then,

it came...

right at me!

-Oh!

-Sorry.

That was one really angry bird.

Yeah.

Right. Magical memory.

THEY CHUCKLE

-Remember the hurricane, two years ago?

-Mm-hm.

One nesting pair left. They didn't make it.

What?

They're extinct.

Ex... Extinct! But shouldn't you tell somebody?

Get a grip!

Who's going to come to Saint-Marie to see a dead parrot?

Be bad for business. Besides, I've got five wives, you know?

So? You won't get away with this, you know?

I have, already! Two years.

Ssh... Listen.

To what?

That!

What?

There it is!

Where?

Aw! You just missed it!

You're a bad man, you know, Jack.

Pub rules, remember?

To the Saint-Marie Green. It ceased to be.

It is an ex-parrot.

Shuffled off its mortal coil.

Or maybe it was just pinin' for the fjords?

THEY LAUGH

What do you suppose they're laughing at?

Oh, believe me, with Dwayne, you don't want to know.

Oh! Oh!

There's been a murder on Sebastien Island.

Alexander Jackson's been found shot near his home.

The man owns the whole island. There's only one house on it - his.

Father always liked to take a walk before lunch.

Except, at some point within the hour - BANG!

-THUNDER

-So we're stranded here?

That means the killer is too.

Lock your doors, and don't let anybody in.