Episode 7 Death in Paradise

MUSIC: "007" by Desmond Dekker

Why aren't your brother and sister helping you?

Don't worry, Papa, I got this covered.

Your mother always used to scold me for spending so much on wine.

"All tastes the same after a few glasses."

Boy, she'd be mad at me for buying this lot.

I think she would've just been happy to have everyone together again.

See you at lunch, then?

Have you seen your father?

-No?

-No.

What do you think? It's my mother.

-Swimming.

-Hmm.

She used to love doing laps in the pool.

Blue is very nice.

Ah, Mr Jackson,

these are the faxes from the London office,

-the documents you requested.

-Thank you.

Daddy? I've almost finished it.

Well, do you like it?

Are you happy with it?

-Yes. Yes. I think I am.

-Well, I'm happy...if you are.

-Need any help at the office?

-Under control.

Market's looking pretty bullish at the moment.

Mm-hm.

There are some developments I need to discuss with you after lunch.

Ah, Joseph, nice of you to make an effort.

I didn't realise there was a dress code.

I can lend you a decent shirt and tie if you want.

Hmm, good idea, boys. Let's start bickering -

today of all days.

-Yes, ma'am?

-Check where Daddy is, please.

Some of us are getting hungry.

Mr Jackson?

Mr Jackson?

Oh, my God!

Let me review what we know so far.

A man is found dead at the bottom of a ten-storey building,

clearly having fallen.

Yes.

And the detective must work out whether it was murder or suicide.

He goes up each floor and throws a coin

out of the window at every level.

And then he knows he's got his answer.

-What kind of coin?

-It doesn't matter.

It was murder.

Ah, yes. It's definitely murder.

-Are they big or small coins?

-The coins aren't important.

-Maybe we should start again from the beginning...

-Oh, gosh!

-PHONE RINGS

-Honore Police Station.

It must have been murder

because the detective had to open up all the windows, which means

the victim was pushed out and the window closed afterwards.

If it was suicide, he would have found an open window. Simple.

Well, it does depend on how big the window ledges are.

-I thought you said you liked riddles.

-I do. Give me, give me another.

OK. There's been a murder on Sebastien Island.

OK.

And?

And we should go there.

No. I don't get it.

No, sir, it's not a riddle. There's actually

been a murder. Alexander Jackson.

-Been found shot near his home.

-Oh, the old carpetbagger, eh?

-I'll arrange some transport.

-What do you mean by carpetbagger?

The man made millions out of property developments - land grabs.

And he has a house on Sebastien Island?

Chief! The man owns the whole island.

There's only one house on it. HIS! He's a lucky man.

Or should I say "was"?

We'll be at the harbour in ten minutes.

-Why is he even using coins?

-It doesn't matter!

I can't imagine buying an entire island.

-Buying a house was stressful enough.

-That's the rich for you.

Considering Mr Jackson's popularity,

living away from Saint-Marie was probably a smart move.

He wasn't well liked?

Buying up land cheap, clearing out the locals,

and building luxury homes in their place? What do you think?

Some of those homes had been in families for generations.

Yes, I imagine the drinks will be flowing in

a fair few of the bars tonight.

Owah.

I mean, the estate agent fees alone would be astronomical.

Oh, it's a little bit choppy.

Yes, sir, the weather report says there might be storms.

But don't worry. They're usually wrong.

Coming up, whoa!

Oh, oh...!

Thank you.

-Hello.

-Hello.

I'm Emily Benoit. Mr Jackson's personal assistant.

I'm DS Bordey, this is Inspector Goodman.

You were the one who made the call?

Yes.

Er, the housemaid, Rosie, she, she found the body...

Can you take us to it?

Yes, of course.

So who else is here at the moment?

Mr Jackson's two sons and his daughter.

It's been a year since his wife passed away.

I'm sorry to hear that. How did she die?

A stroke. It was very sudden.

Mr Jackson wanted everyone in the family to join him here to remember her.

Gathering the clan, as it were.

And you are considered family?

Me? No.

He had some work things he wanted me to go over this weekend.

Did he always work weekends?

Mr Jackson liked to do things his own way.

No internet, no mobile reception, only one landline.

He doesn't even own a computer.

He called this place his "Fortress of Solitude".

Yes, well that's pretty apt.

So, the jetty is the only way on or off this island?

He made sure of that - security was very important to him.

I'm going to have my own island one day, you know.

Hm, sure, Dwayne. Of course you are.

SHE EXHALES

I'm Detective Inspector Goodman, this is DS Bordey.

Terrance Jackson, this is my sister, Anna, and my brother, Joseph.

I'll need you to step away from the body, you're contaminating the crime scene.

Actually we were waiting for you. Want to move our father inside the house now.

-It's important that you stay away from the body.

-Look, my father was a great man.

It's disrespectful to leave him lying out.

I sympathise but the sooner you let us get on,

the sooner we can move him somewhere more...respectful.

Maybe it's better we wait up at the house.

Thank you.

Best you go with them.

Thank you.

Sir. I've got a bullet here. Looks like it's gone straight through.

And judging by the wound and the bullet,

I'd say he was shot with a pistol.

Why's he not wearing his shirt?

Look at his clothes.

Smartly dressed, bit odd, isn't it - sat here

and decides to take his shirt off?

Look, I'm going to go and tell the captain to take the boat back,

pick up the paramedics so the body can get examined properly.

-OK, but you'd better tell him to get a move on.

-What?

-The storm.

Well, you'd better finish up here and take the body inside then.

So, it's a year since his wife passed away.

Family all together, on the island he owns.

At some point he comes outside, removes his shirt.

And is shot through the heart with a pistol.

I think it's time we heard what the family have to say for themselves.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

Erm, as difficult as this must be for all of you, we need

to know the last time you all saw Mr Jackson prior to his death.

Well, I saw him at the jetty

when the boat delivered supplies for lunch.

I saw him when I was painting by the pool.

I saw him there too.

Ah... Erm...

(I've broken my pencil. Have you got a pen?)

I have a pen. Be careful. It's very expensive.

Thank you.

So, jetty, swimming pool.

And that was the last time he was seen?

No. I saw him later in his study.

He was just putting something in the safe.

Then headed out for a walk. It was around 11:20 or so.

What was he putting in the safe?

Not sure. Financial projections, maybe?

And how did he seem? His mood, his manner?

He did seem a little preoccupied.

There are some developments I need to discuss with you after lunch.

Sir, it's not my place

but maybe you shouldn't be worrying about business today.

This is something that needs to be done.

At this point, before he

went for his walk, did he have his shirt on?

-Yes. Of course.

-Did he say why he was going out to the garden?

Father always liked to take a walk before lunch.

Clear his head from business.

Except at some point within the hour BANG!

A gun goes off.

Yes. I heard it.

I was preparing the vegetables for lunch

and I had another 30 minutes before it was due to be ready.

That must have been about 11:40.

GUNSHOT

I thought it was just Mr Jackson shooting the birds again.

-Birds?

-Mmm-hmm.

It's a business thing.

Take the client out to play golf or go shooting.

Father liked to keep his aim in, you know?

Was the gun kept for protection, as well?

He wasn't exactly popular with certain people in Saint-Marie.

Everything he did was legal.

Which doesn't make it morally right.

Ask the hundreds of people made homeless by Papa's little "loopholes".

Let's return to the gun in a moment.

I want to be clear where everyone was

when the shot was heard at 11:40.

I was by the pool, working on my painting.

I heard the shot,

I assumed the same thing as Rosie that it was the birds.

I heard it too, I was in the library doing some reading.

I was in my room taking a shower, getting ready for lunch.

Which leaves you, Joseph. Did you hear the gunshot?

No. I was running, I had my headphones on.

Normally I have a workout on the beach when I stay here.

But the weather looked like it was turning,

so I decided just to head to the gym instead.

Right, so... Kitchen. Pool.

Library. Room.

Gym.

All of you alone.

No corroboration as to where you were.

Um, no. Rosie saw me.

-Is that right?

-Yes.

I was asking her. Not you.

Er, yes, I saw him in the gym.

What time was that?

Er, maybe around half past 11...

all the way through to 11:50, 12...

-And he stayed there the whole time?

-Well, I was...

I was busy running in and out the kitchen...

but I'm fairly sure I would have noticed if he'd gone anywhere else.

Fairly sure.

Joseph has an alibi but no-one else has someone who can vouch

for where they were.

About this gun your father owned...

It's a shotgun. It's kept mounted in the hallway.

And it's the only gun in the house?

Is there something we should know?

It's erm...

It's not the only gun.

Yesterday afternoon, I was out looking for inspiration

and I heard the shots.

GUNSHOT

It was just practice.

I mean I have a pistol, yes, but it's for personal protection.

-I have the papers for it.

-Where's it kept?

In a lockbox in my room. It's quite safe.

I keep the key on me at all times.

Even when working out in the gym?

At all times.

But if Papa was killed by a shotgun...

Well, that's the thing, you see, he wasn't.

We believe the weapon used was a pistol.

I'm not a fan of guns

but I work for an aid organisation around the world.

Sadly, some of the places that need the most help are also

the most dangerous.

And the organisation you work for condones the carrying of firearms?

Yes, well, they, they understand.

Aid work's a little bit different from what your father did.

That's kind of the point.

How long have you been back here?

Only a few days. It's been a long time since I've been home.

And why is that?

Had some pretty big issues with how Papa made his millions.

Seemed better to stay away than have endless arguments about it.

But after Mum died, felt it was time to build those bridges again,

you know?

CLATTER

Trust me, you won't find a better lock.

And you're the only one with a key with access to it?

Well, yes, but Rosie saw me in the gym.

And violence is never an answer to anything. I'm a pacifist.

A pacifist with a pistol.

Here it is.

Right, so I'll need to lock this away, OK?

You sure that's not the murder weapon?

Your father was killed with a pistol bullet.

Shotguns don't fire bullets. They fire shot.

Well, you seem to know your stuff.

If there's anything else you need...

Yes, just be around to answer any more follow-up questions, OK?

Chief, I hope you know that that storm means

the crime scene's a goner, you know.

-That wind is going to cut right through it and tear it up.

-Sounds like orange to me.

Er?

Storms are colour coded, sir.

Orange means stay inside, lock the doors

and all boats remain in the harbour.

Wait! So that means the paramedics can't come over?

I'm afraid so.

So, we're stranded here?

Yes and that means the killer is too.

Yes, well, that's reassuring.

Yeah, not to mention without mobile or internet connections

we can't even get proper background checks.

We can improvise. Get what information we can from here.

And at least we still...have an outside line.

With a distinct lack of a dialling tone.

Phone lines tend to be the first thing to go.

OK!

So, let's make this the base of our operations for the time being.

So what do we need? Right, we need headshots.

Headsh... Aha!

Present on the island at the time of the murder

we have Anna the daughter, Terrance the son.

She's 30, a freelance artist in New York.

Terrance has always lived at home. He's 37 years old,

and he's the vice-president of his father's property company.

Then we have Emily the PA.

Hard working and willing to work overtime at weekends.

-Just like us.

-Speak for yourself.

Now, Emily's 42.

She's worked for Alexander for 11 months.

Then we have Rosie the maid who found the body.

Now there are no photos of her.

So, we need to improvise.

Going to need some paper.

-Sir...

-Thank you. OK...

There we go.

Oh, you have hidden talents, sir!

HE CHUCKLES

So, what have we got on her?

25. Been with the family three years.

And finally we have Joseph.

40. Works for foreign aid.

Tends to live wherever his work takes him.

Yes and let's not forget he arrived at his mother's memorial with

a pistol in tow.

And then his father was found dead. Shirt off. Shot.

Two pieces of the puzzle right there. Why was he shirtless?

And why use a gun? A small island.

Much quieter ways to kill someone.

Strangling.

Poison. Push him off a cliff.

Half brick to the back of the head.

Yes...erm...nevertheless,

the bullet that killed Alexander did come from a pistol.

And as far as we know the only pistol on the island belongs

-to Joseph.

-Unless someone is lying to us.

-Which is entirely possible.

So we need to find out if the bullet came from the pistol that Joseph owns.

I could check the striation marks from the recovered bullet with another one fired from the gun.

-Mm-hm.

-If they match up, then we'd know for sure that the pistol was the murder weapon.

-Good.

Well, it looks like we're going to have to use the old-fashioned ways to solve this case.

And the sooner we do so, the better. Because one of the five people in this house killed Alexander Jackson.

So, let's be wary of that.

Watch your backs...and each others.

I've always wanted to say that!

HE CHUCKLES

So, who stood to gain the most from Alexander's death?

Well, on the surface, Terrance seems the obvious choice.

Vice-president of his father's firm.

And now Daddy's gone, he's just gained control of a large,

successful company.

STORM GATHERS

I'm the only one who's qualified to do it.

Really?

Not Anna? Or Joseph?

Joseph?

The only time Joseph's got involved in the company is across the bloody picket line.

The picket line being?

Joseph protested against some of Father's resort plans.

Father almost had him thrown in jail.

Do you have the combination for the safe?

No. But Emily does.

Says here that your father only had one

appointment for next week - with his solicitor on Monday.

Do you have any idea what that was about?

No. But I think maybe that...

Emily would know.

Yes. Sorry.

I didn't spend much time in Father's study...

I guess it's my study now.

I always expected him to hand the keys over to me.

Father to son. But...

..never imagined it would be like this.

Take this. Ohh!

Here! Come on.

These are all of Alexander's files that were in storage.

Excellent. Thank you. And the safe?

The combination is his wedding anniversary.

BEEPING

Thank you.

He had an appointment with his solicitor on Monday.

Do you know what that was about?

No. He didn't mention it.

Sorry.

Right, well, none of these seem particularly recent -

financial projections for this year and last.

Not sure what that is...

Oh! And his last will and testament.

I don't suppose he left this island to the longest-serving

officer of the Honore Police Station, by any chance, did he?

Actually, he did.

Congratulations Dwayne, all this is yours.

-No...

-No! Of course not.

It's your standard three-way split between the children. All included. All equally divided.

Sometimes Your Words Hurt Me Like a Dagger Through My Heart.

It was just a joke, Dwayne.

No, chief,

it was among Alexander's things.

It's the name of a play Anna wrote a few years back.

Had an off-Broadway performance in New York.

So, an artist and a writer.

There's another one here as well.

One from a fashion show she organised nine months ago

The Empress's New Clothes.

-SHE CHUCKLES

-And a message on the back to him

saying she knows he's missed all her other events

but hoping he would make this one.

"Really hoping."

Yeah, which he didn't. Contractors' meeting instead.

I thought you were meant to go to your kids' plays and stuff.

It's like a legal obligation of being a father.

If you're interested in them, yes. I wonder if Alexander was.

Never showing up despite the fact she kept inviting him.

You think he disapproved?

Could be. Maybe saw her as flighty.

I think it's time to see what the artist has to say for herself...

Perhaps we would be better off inside.

Ssh. Listen!

What exactly are we listening for?

I forget how violent these storms can be - that primal force of nature!

If I could capture just SOME of that in one of my paintings...

Please come back inside. Come on.

Yeah.

SHE SIGHS AND CHUCKLES

So, have you always wanted to be a painter?

Oh, yes. It's my greatest dream.

Right, not maybe a, a playwright or a fashion designer?

Well, I have turned my hand to quite a few things,

but when the muse calls, one has to follow.

Have you ever had a regular job?

Being a painter isn't a regular job?

You know what I mean.

Did your father see your career choices in the same way?

Oh, he was always very supportive of me.

So, if you had, say, a gallery opening he'd fly over especially?

I'm sure that he would have tried to.

Except he never managed to, did he? Which must've been very frustrating.

Hurtful, even.

To be on a stage, or by a catwalk, looking out into the crowd,

hoping to see his face, yet knowing in your heart of hearts you won't.

Perhaps what you said was right.

He was always very business minded.

When I wanted to pursue the arts - my dreams -

rather than join the family firm...

Five minutes. That's all I ever wanted.

Five minutes for him to sit and read something I'd written or

look at a painting I'd done and I mean, really look,

not just glance and dismiss it...

Not just glance and dismiss me.

SHE CHUCKLES

Look. Did I have issues with my father?

Yes. Yes, I did. But I didn't kill him.

I mean, have issues with everyone - my brothers, my mother.

If we carry on talking I'll probably have issues with you two.

SHE CHUCKLES

But it's OK. I'm in therapy for it.

Bullet used to kill Alexander.

Bullet from Joseph's gun.

Let's see if you match up.

Snap!

Striation marks match.

The bullet used to kill Alexander was fired from Joseph's pistol.

Oh, how unfortunate.

No, I'm sorry I mean, good work, Fidel.

But it just makes things so much more complicated.

We have Joseph, with a gun, in a locked box.

A gun only he had access to.

And yet he's the only person with an alibi for the murder.

We need to find out if anyone else has their fingerprints on that gun.

-I'll get on that right away.

-I'll come with you.

And we start in on Joseph's alibi.

Because there is something missing from this puzzle.

The gun locked away.

A single key. Alexander's shirt removed.

Why would a man dressed for lunch remove his shirt?

Solve one of these clues and the whole thing should unravel.

Hopefully.

I still can't believe you forgot to pack

my finger-printing equipment.

OK, I'm sorry but I did tell you it was for a magic trick

I was working on.

-Dwayne, why would you want to learn magic tricks?

-To impress women, of course.

-UNDER HIS BREATH:

-Of course.

Why go up to them and ask their names when you can just do this...

Huh?

This is why I hate lending you things.

-DWAYNE CHUCKLES

-Ah, Rosie!

I brought the items you asked for.

A brush and cocoa powder.

Good idea. Nice hot cup of cocoa.

Calm him down a bit.

No, Dwayne. It's for the fingerprints.

What?

Now, that's magic.

He's very good.

Yes, but I'm not too bad either.

For example, I noticed your lovely earrings earlier.

-Diamonds, right?

-No, no, no, imitation.

First year on the force, I trailed a diamond forger for months.

I can spot a fake diamond from 20 yards.

So, I have to ask myself, "What is a housemaid doing with

"shiny stones like these?"

Mmm?

They were a gift.

From Mr Jackson.

Quite an extravagant gift.

You want to talk somewhere more private?

Because I'm all ears.

Ah.

HE CHUCKLES

Right. Erm... Hmmm...

Well, I could definitely see you, but not your face, just your back.

So if it was someone else on the treadmill,

they would have had to look a lot like Joseph.

A fake alibi then? Er, Rosie and Joseph working together.

But what motive would Rosie have?

She wouldn't have one. Not to kill Mr Jackson.

In fact, he very kindly gave her some diamond earrings.

What?

HE GROANS AND SHE GASPS

Well, that was very generous of him.

It wasn't generosity. It was to buy her silence, her loyalty.

You see, there was a little incident here,

six months ago, one which would have been

very embarrassing for the company if it had come out in the press.

Rosie!

One day all of this will be mine.

Rosie! Rosie...

-Mr Jackson...

-Rosie! Rosie! Rosie!

Mr Jackson...

SHE SHRIEKS

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Rosie, please don't tell my father.

I was drunk. It was a mistake.

A stupid, foolish mistake and I've paid for it.

He stopped my wages. My expense account. It was under review.

Father said if I made another mistake he'd bump me

right down to the same level as the doorman.

While I can't condone your actions towards Rosie

but that punishment sounds pretty humiliating for you.

He didn't even tell me face-to-face.

Just sent me a memo. That's his way.

Yes, I...know how you feel.

I doubt it.

I've got two brothers who graduated from Oxford.

My father framed and put their certificates up in the living room.

When I passed my police exams I gave him

a copy of that certificate...

..which he lovingly stuck up in the toilet.

It was the way he was so dismissive of me, you know?

Mmm. It's like they don't seem to appreciate all your hard work

and effort.

Maybe you just wanted to show him a bit of backbone.

Maybe you just went a bit too far.

What? No, no! He's my father!

-I couldn't do that.

-But he stopped your money.

The one thing that made you feel like a success.

No. I've always, always been loyal to my father.

No matter what. We had a strong relationship.

I mean, I mean it wasn't like him and Joseph.

We didn't have those kinds of problems, you know?

Presumably their problems are in the past. The protests and so on.

Well, you'd think so. I did. But maybe I was wrong.

Last night, I heard them arguing.

You hold your tongue. Don't you dare cross the line this time!

What were they arguing about?

I don't know. But ever since Father's body was found,

I've thought about it and turned it around in my head and...

I'm loyal to my family. Above all.

And I just hope with all my heart, Joseph feels the same way.

I feel a bit sorry for Terrance.

You shouldn't. He just inherited a multimillion pound company.

Mmm.

There's just something a little sad about the way he carries himself.

Joseph on the other hand...

Joseph? Confident. Willing to stand up to his father.

-On the night before Alexander died.

-Brings a pistol to the island.

The pistol we know is the murder weapon.

And yet it's locked away, he has the only key and the only alibi.

We could search his room. See if we can uncover anything else.

-It's not a bad idea, Camille.

-Thank you.

THUNDER CRASHES

OK. We've finished going through these files. Are there any more?

-No.

-You sure?

Absolutely.

Can you just press your fingers down here, please?

It's just that all the newspaper correspondence paints

a pretty glowing picture of Alexander and his company.

Well, he worked hard to get good press.

And I remember the protests, the petitions, the trouble -

-there must be more.

-Mmm.

Honestly, that's all we've got here.

How do you know when someone's lying to you?

They use the word "honestly" to start a sentence.

Exactly.

Maybe I'll snoop around a bit and see

-if there's anything else I can dig up.

-Sure.

Aha.

I think I know what Joseph was so angry about.

Looks like Alexander Jackson was planning on opening

a new golf course on Saint-Marie.

Which would have meant having to move a lot of houses, families.

Seeing as Joseph had already protested

against his developments before...

But would it be enough to kill his father over?

I don't know. Let's keep looking.

Gotcha.

-Camille?

-Mmm-hmm.

Catch.

SHE SCREAMS

Not funny. And be careful.

Yes, yes, I'm fine.

ELECTRICITY FUSES

BOTH GRUNT

CLATTERING

It was just a power cut, right?

I hope so. Otherwise...

Somebody's done it on purpose.

Don't worry, it happens a lot out here.

Why does that not surprise me?

Might be morning before the power comes back on.

But we've got some more of these camper lights

-stored away for emergencies.

-See, this is why I could never actually leave New York.

-Sir?

Joseph. We'd like a word with you.

I think it's time you were honest with us, Joseph.

We've checked everyone's fingerprints against those found on your pistol.

The very same pistol we know was used to kill your father.

There is only one set of fingerprints. Yours.

You were heard arguing with your father the night before he was killed.

We found the documents in your room. About the new golf course.

Maybe you didn't come back to build bridges after all.

It was a big deal.

The environmental damage alone would have been catastrophic...

The last time you protested against one of your father's property plans, he had you arrested.

-I imagine this time you were even more determined not to back down.

-Yeah, I wasn't going to hold back.

But he told me not to worry.

That he had decided not to go ahead with it.

He said that he'd been thinking a lot since Mum died.

That he needed to make changes to his life. Big changes

that would affect us all.

-What did he mean by that?

-I don't know.

He just told me that he knew I would be all right.

And that he was proud of me.

Although maybe less proud if he knew about you carrying that gun.

I told you. It's a dangerous job.

And I also happen to know that foreign aid workers don't carry firearms.

-So, what's the real reason you were carrying that pistol?

-It's not relevant!

Your father was shot by your own pistol. It's incredibly relevant.

All right...

I got arrested in Darfur at a checkpoint. Drug possession.

Plea bargained my way out of jail by giving up the names of the dealers.

They weren't happy. At all.

I told you I wasn't lying

when I said the pistol was for my protection.

No, you weren't lying. But you weren't exactly

telling the truth, were you?

So, if Joseph is our killer, why use his own gun?

Maybe it wasn't premeditated?

Argument got out of control?

Had his gun to use as a threat? That sort of thing?

OK, so Joseph follows Alexander out into the gardens.

At some point Alexander removes his shirt - willingly,

unwillingly - an argument escalates - Alexander is shot.

Joseph returns to the house. Puts the gun in the lockbox?

And hopes the police don't discover it? No, I don't buy it.

Even in a panic he seems smarter than that.

Plus - Rosie the housemaid saw Joseph in the gym

at the time of the shooting.

Which just brings us back to the question -

how did he manage to kill his father without breaking his alibi?

If it wasn't him, who else are we looking at?

Rosie? Or Terrance? Father dies, he gets the company.

Or Anna. Her father funded her lifestyle choices.

But he never bothered to follow up, not in person. Fashion shows.

Plays. He was absent.

Maybe she snapped. Wanted the attention that badly.

Then how did she or Terrance get hold of that damn pistol?

-I don't know.

-I don't know either.

Here's the news, chief. I think you're going to like this.

Now, I asked Emily for the other files and articles.

But I could tell she wasn't being straight

so I decided to have a look around for myself.

That's when I discovered these...

A couple of years ago, Alexander's company was buying up land

cheaply and knocking down low-rent residences

and businesses looking to build a luxury holiday resort.

-Which people started protesting against...

-Oh, yes.

We've got a quote here from one of the protesters,

a Miss Valerie Pellow.

That's her there, chief.

That's Emily. Alexander's PA.

Exactly. There is no Emily Benoit.

She's Valerie Pellow.

And her father lost his business due to Alexander Jackson.

Please, take a seat.

-Thank you.

-Valerie.

So, you know we've found out about you.

Your real name. Your past.

My father had a boat-hire business.

Alexander crushed it.

The anger and stress of it killed my father.

So, you decided to work for Mr Jackson, under an assumed name.

-Looking for a way to get back at him?

-And maybe you were successful.

I started working for him just after his wife died

and he wasn't the man I thought he was going to be.

He was...

I don't know. Broken, I guess.

In what way?

By his wife's passing.

By how he reached out to his children and how they barely cared.

So he was angry with them?

More like disgusted. He realised how alone he really was.

But he still took your father's business away from him.

-Indirectly caused his death.

-That's true.

I don't think I forgive Mr Jackson.

But it was like he'd been punished enough.

That's incredibly understanding of you.

So much so I'm not sure I actually believe it.

If you couldn't forgive him, why did you continue to work for him?

The money is good.

If you're loyal to him, you're paid well.

Revenge doesn't pay the bills.

That'll be all. For now.

You know those moments where something clicks in your brain and suddenly everything becomes clear?

-Yes?

-Not happening. Not even close.

Best if you all go to bed, lock your doors, and don't let anybody in.

Thank you.

Now, chief, here's a scary thought...

What if the murderer thinks we're getting close to the solution?

Well, then they'll be sorely disappointed because we we're nowhere close to a solution.

Chief. We meant...

Yes, I know. Thank you, Dwayne, very reassuring.

-Right, I'll keep watch.

-You're sure?

As Detective Inspector I have a duty of care.

Nothing to do with the fact that I won't be able to sleep with a killer upstairs.

Look, sir, I don't mind staying up with you, it's OK.

Nonsense. I need you all sharp and bright in the morning.

Provided we last that long.

Sorry, that was actually meant to be a joke,

but under the circumstances...

-Good night, sir.

-Yes. Good night.

HE EXHALES

THUNDER CRASHES

WHISPERS: Sir?

HE GASPS

Oh. Hello.

Sorry. I couldn't sleep.

-I thought I might as well keep you company.

-Please...

HE SIGHS

Sorry, I have to ask, erm, that whole thing about your police certificate.

And your father hanging it up in the toilet.

-I mean, that was just a story, right?

-Yes.

-SHE SIGHS

-It was more of a guest bathroom than a toilet.

Oh.

It was just that...I suppose in a sense

I can understand what Alexander's children have gone through.

A successful father can cast quite a shadow over one's own achievements.

But you're a Detective Inspector, that's fantastic.

Well, I think so.

He'd disagree.

And there, in a nutshell, is many an uncomfortable family dinner.

So, what did he say when you told him

you were splitting up with your wife?

Oh, er, he was, erm, he was fine about it.

-You haven't told him, have you?

-Nope.

And do you plan on doing so any time soon?

Oh, I imagine I'll get around to it in about,

erm...two or three...years.

Sir...

I know. It's just...

..the marriage was the one time my parents

seemed...

properly impressed, you know.

Like Sally was just too good for me.

And, of course, they expected grandchildren.

And, you know, I wasn't against the idea.

Sally, on the other hand...

She's a career woman.

Exactly. Like yourself.

-No, no.

-No?

No, I mean, I'd love to have children.

I just need to meet the right man first.

HE CHUCKLES

-You will meet the right man. No, definitely.

-Yeah.

You're, you're, you're, you're, you're funny, you're smart,

you're beautiful...

Sorry.

Yes. You should apologise. I hate hearing how fantastic I am(!)

Go on, then. Don't stop.

Erm, well, this is a bit awkward, erm, it's just er, well,

well, you're, you're you.

Mmm-hmm.

-And that, that's good.

-Mmm-hmm.

Er, so...so well done...

Chief?

Oh, er, sarge.

Hey, I didn't come to check up on you or anything like that, you know.

I'm quite sure you can handle yourselves in the event of any trouble.

-And yet here you are.

-Sir...

-Oh, Hi!

-Hi.

-Well, look, I didn't come to check up on you or anything like that...

-Yes, I've already done that one.

-All right.

-Chief. I was just wondering something.

-Yes?

-Are you any good at cards?

-Er, well, not particularly.

Just what I was wanting to hear.

-HE CHUCKLES

-OK, what we playing?

-Newmarket.

-What's that?

-New...the four kings...

Actually, we need two packs of cards... We don't have...

-Caribbean poker.

-I don't know how to play.

Strip poker!

No, I was just joking.

Guys!

Sorry! Erm, deal the cards!

Sir?

-Oh, morning.

-You didn't sleep?

A little bit.

Dwayne snores.

Fidel snores. And you...

..don't. Definitely not.

-HE CHUCKLES

-So, where are Dwayne and Fidel? Not still asleep surely?

No, no. I told them to go and wake up everyone.

Right. Well, we have an outside line now so I called the solicitor

and asked him if he knew why Alexander wanted to meet on Monday.

-And?

-He didn't know. Another dead end.

Which brings us back to the suspects. All have a motive.

-But only one has the proper means.

-Joseph.

Yes, but I still can't get past that alibi. Joseph on the treadmill...

But he must have found a way around it because all the evidence...

-Points to him.

-Yes. It does.

Chief. We can't find Joseph.

He's not in his bedroom and the window is open.

We think he might have made a break for it.

Right, we'll head to the jetty.

You and Fidel check the rest of the island. Let's go!

Stop!

GRUNTING

I'm placing you under arrest, for the murder of your father,

Alexander Jackson.

We're ready to cast off, chief.

Now, that's interesting...

That's very interesting...

Why's he not wearing his shirt?

Bit odd, isn't it? Sat here and decides to take his shirt off?

Snap!

The bullet used to kill Alexander was fired from Joseph's pistol.

He found only one set of fingerprints on the pistol.

Yours.

Chief?!

Hang on a minute.

Maybe two.

So, there's this riddle, about a dead body.

At the bottom of a building.

And the detective who has to work out

if the victim jumped or was pushed.

So, he goes up every level...

And he throws a coin out the window

and he works out that the guy was pushed.

-Oh, so you know it?

-It's pretty old.

Well, it's new to me.

Right, well, how about the,

er, riddle of Alexander Jackson's death?

That's about as new as you can get.

I thought Joseph... I thought he'd already been arrested for it?

Ah, yes, of course. Our guest of honour.

Right on time, Joseph. Take a seat.

So, you'll have to admit that as far as riddles go, this one isn't easy.

It's real for a start, and real life throws up awkward questions.

Why was Alexander killed yesterday, before lunch?

Why did he remove his shirt?

And why was the one person whose fingerprints were all over

the murder weapon also the only one with an alibi?

Anyone care to have a crack at it?

Mmm? Anna?

I don't know...

Come, on, have a guess.

No? Rosie?

Emily?

No, I don't blame you.

Because that's the whole point

of the riddle. It was never meant to be one.

There was never meant to be some puzzle for the police to grapple with.

It was meant to be straightforward.

A body is found. We show up. We find a bullet, murder weapon, fingerprints.

All leading to Joseph, who we arrest.

Case closed and we're all sipping cocktails by sunset. Lovely.

Except...

..except something went wrong.

Joseph had planned to be on the beach that morning...

But the weather looked like it was turning,

so I decided just to head to the gym instead.

And that weather forecast threw off the killer's plan.

Joseph was never meant to be in the gym. Rosie was never meant to see him,

and this puzzle...

that's been bothering me for so long - how can a man with

a solid alibi kill his father? Was never meant to happen.

I'm not sure I understand what you mean.

Really? All right, let me help.

We've got Joseph's pistol - the murder weapon, right?

-Yes. That's right.

-Wrong.

Alexander Jackson was killed with the shotgun.

No...

The officer said it was a pistol.

No. He said a bullet had to have come from a pistol.

Which, technically, it did.

Alexander's wound clearly showed that he had been

shot by a bullet from a pistol.

Which naturally would mean a pistol was used...

or at least that's what we were meant to think.

Joseph fired six shots when he was practising,

a full magazine. But only five bullets were found.

So, where did the missing bullet go?

And if you wanted to kill someone on a small island, why use a gun?

They're noisy. Attract attention. Leave evidence.

But...

if you could use one to frame someone...

Snap!

If the police knew that the bullet that killed

Alexander had been fired from Joseph's gun,

well, they'd assume the obvious. Joseph was guilty.

All the killer needed was that one bullet.

You see, it was the shirt, the shirt gave it all away.

His shirt was not removed before he was shot, it was after.

The killer removed Alexander's bloodied shirt

because it was COVERED with evidence.

Gunpowder residue that proves that the shotgun was used to shoot Alexander.

The shirt with the shotgun gunpowder residue still on it was taken

away and replaced with a fresh shirt.

No evidence.

You know your way around guns. Gone shooting with your dad.

I'd imagine you'd even know that you could take a pistol bullet

even one that's already been fired and pack it into a shotgun shell.

So, even though it's fired from a shotgun, the actual bullet

that killed Alexander...

..was a spent one from Joseph's gun.

This is ridiculous.

You tried your best to incriminate Joseph, didn't you?

Using that bullet from his gun.

Even giving us little hints and help along the way, about his past,

his argument with Alexander the night before...

Last night... I heard them arguing...

Wait, sorry. You actually think I had something to do with it?

I mean what possible reason would I have for killing my father?

Which was the final part of the puzzle to solve.

Why now? Why this weekend?

Because of a decision Alexander had made.

A meeting planned with his solicitor on Monday. To change his will.

But Dad never mentioned anything about that.

No. He didn't.

But then, that wasn't his way...

He didn't even tell me face-to-face.

Just sent me a memo.

That's his way.

Locked in Alexander's safe was a blank...

notepad.

I'd noticed that a page had been ripped out,

but it didn't seem important to me at the time.

And then it struck me.

"Why would you lock a blank notepad in a safe?"

I mean, you wouldn't. And yet he did.

Which meant that whatever he'd written on it,

must've been pretty important.

Let's find out what that was...

You see, pressure on the pad, leaves indents,

even if the page above with the actual writing has been removed.

It's a letter to his solicitor.

Stating the terms and conditions of a new will, to come

into effect, Monday morning.

Explaining that since his wife passed away,

he's become aware that his money has made some of his children...

spoilt. Entitled.

How it's time for them to stand on their own two feet.

He acknowledges that for some this won't make a difference.

But for others...

..no more handouts.

No more indulging of whims.

Time to fend for yourselves. Without his help.

No inheritance.

No trust fund. No place in the company.

Nothing.

-You couldn't stand the thought of that, could you?

-You can't be serious!

Even tried to put us off the scent by claiming you didn't know

the combination to the safe, yet your fingerprints are all over it.

You read that letter. And you knew you had to act fast.

If your father

was still alive come Monday morning, then the will would change and you would be cut out for ever.

You weren't going to let that happen.

ALEXANDER GASPS

I'm calling my lawyer. This is nothing short of harassment.

A lawyer would be a very smart move, actually.

But I'm not sure you're as smart as you think you are.

You see, a smart man would properly dispose of the bloodied shirt

that Alexander had worn.

And you tried.

But you didn't try well enough, did you?

HE TUTS

No wonder your dad was disappointed in you.

Couldn't even pull off a simple murder without screwing it up.

-Don't you dare say that!

-How could you?

He was going to cut us off, we lose everything.

All of us! We'd have nothing!

When did you find the shirt?

I didn't.

No idea where the real one is.

This is the one he used for the switch.

Sir...

I can't help it if Terrance felt the need to confess.

Oh, and Terrance?

I didn't lose your pen.

Shh.

This is what it's all about, Fidel!

CHEERING

-What are you doing?

-I'm going to do a fire walk.

-What?

-Don't. You'll end up in hospital.

-It's all in the mind.

-Yes, and you're out of yours.

I know!

HE CHUCKLES

Wait, you're, you're not...

Someone needs to show them how it's done.

Oh, right. You've done it before.

Ah, no. Never. I mean, come on, walking on hot coals, fire...

It's ridiculous. It's dangerous. And terrifying.

-Yes, all good reasons to do something.

-Well, kind of it is.

You know, face your fears and all that.

SHE CHUCKLES

Yes, I'll remind you of this conversation when you're on fire.

SHE CHUCKLES

SHE CHEERS

SHE SHRIEKS

CHEERING

Oh... Oh...

CHEERING

Hello, Dad? Dad, it's Humphrey.

Look, there's something I need to tell you.

Better go and rest up if...

-I'm going to have any energy for this dance tonight.

-Judith, have you seen Emma?

-Oh, not since this afternoon.

-Emma?

I can see her.

HE GRUNTS

If she was going to take her own life,

why get out a special dress like this and not put it on?

-Er...

-What?

Your wife came a long way to see you. It must be important.

Letting you go, it's the biggest mistake I've ever made.