Crossing the Line The Doctor Blake Mysteries

Excuse me.

Thanks.

-Two tickets, please.

-Two tickets.

-Hello. Just for one please.

-Two and six, thank you.

-Thank you.

-Next, please.

GENERAL CHATTER

Give us a box of matches, Bell.

-Mrs Beazley?

-Oh! Hello, Amelia.

-Patrick.

-Hello.

-Congratulations, by the way.

-Thank you.

-Where is your fiance?

-Oh, he's just running late.

-'Amelia!'

-Excuse me. Bell.

-You OK?

-Good to see you. How are you?

Cigarettes! Popcorn! Anyone?

-Cigarettes!

-Uh, Miss?

Just some mints, thanks.

Ooh! Oh!

-Oh, I'm sorry.

-There you are.

Thanks, that's kind of you. Thanks very much.

AUDIENCE GROANS

Everyone! We need to evacuate this area now.

Stay calm. Make your way to the nearest exit.

Adam? Adam!

-What's going on?

-Paddy, help me. Adam's in there.

-Jesus. Ah!

-Is someone in there?

Yes, it's my projectionist. It's locked.

Here, give me that.

You all right in there?

Hey, you all right?

MAN COUGHS

He's...he's not breathing.

I'll call the fire brigade. Somebody get some buckets.

What's happening?

Paddy?

Adam!

-Jean.

-All's fine here, but...

Right.

-Charlie.

-Hello, Doc.

By the time I got there, there was a lot of smoke coming from...

How was the club?

Peaceful.

This is Adam Summers. He was the projectionist here.

Yes. Minimal burns.

Oh, goodness. A lot of smoke, eh? That's what they said.

And I see they tried CPR.

Richard Taylor, this is Doctor Lucien Blake.

Oh, Richard.

Mr Taylor pulled Summers out from the room.

Had to kick the door in. He wasn't breathing when I got him out.

Fair to say you took quite a risk dragging him out of there.

Mr Taylor is the captain of the Adelaide Metro Fire Station.

Calculated risk, really. Still, couldn't save him.

-Well, at least you tried.

-Thank you.

-Excuse me.

-Richard.

Well, cause of death, smoke inhalation, asphyxiation.

I'd put a bottle of scotch on it.

-No, no. I lost the last bet.

-Come on, Lawson.

Where's your sense of adventure?

Sorry, where are my manners? Hello again. Richard Taylor.

Body mostly untouched by fire.

Small burns on the back of the right hand.

Ah, ember burns? Sparks?

I'd say it was the hand closest to the fire.

Yes.

-What kind of job is a projectionist?

-Projectionist?

Well, he looks after the machinery that projects the images,

uh, screens the pictures at the cinema.

-I've never been.

-To the Rex? Oh, you should go.

-It's...it's a beautiful building.

-No, I mean to the cinema.

-Ever?

-That's right.

Colouration indicates carbon monoxide poisoning.

And smoke inhalation, obviously.

Bruising on the chest consistent with CPR and petechiae.

-Petechiae?

-Yes.

Rupturing of the minor capillaries of the eyes,

consistent with applied force to the neck.

-Yes, thank you. I know what it is.

-You didn't check.

No, uh, visible trauma to the neck, no bruising.

Did something fall on him? Debris from the fire?

No.

Obviously, he was breathing when the fire started.

Then why didn't he get out of there?

Perhaps he was unconscious when the fire started.

How?

Lawson.

You mind? I'm on a Code 30.

Yes, well, I'm sorry to interrupt your lunch,

but the presence of soot and ash in the windpipe and lungs.

Presence of carbon monoxide at fatal levels in bloods and tissue samples.

All indicators of asphyxiation due to smoke inhalation.

What's this subcutaneous bruising?

Well, underneath the skin there was evidence of force

having been applied to the throat, over the carotid artery.

Enough force, it would seem, to have rendered him unconscious.

Applied how?

The pattern of bruising suggests something...something broad.

-Perhaps a forearm, you see?

-Yeah, like a choke hold?

Yes. Maintained until he lost consciousness.

-How long would that last for?

-Oh, anything up to two minutes.

The point is this someone was with him, they knocked him out,

and they left him there to die.

-You owe me a bottle of scotch.

-Yes.

Davis? We're on a Code 31.

I'm not familiar with that one, sir.

Blake and I are going to the pictures. You can answer the phones.

Yes, I've already started cleaning up.

I'll need you to keep out of the projection booth for the time being.

-But I have to reopen.

-Not until we say you can.

Why was the door locked?

It stops patrons barging in during the screenings.

We used the sand buckets to put it out.

There wasn't much actual flame, just a lot of smoke.

Right. Tell me, was Mr Summers a smoker?

Of course, he was.

I warned him, though, don't do it near the prints.

But that's not so much of a problem these days, is it?

There might have been some nitrate prints stored with the others.

You kept nitrate prints in here?

I...I might have kept some, after the recall.

In this very room, with your smoking projectionist?

Thank you, Mr McLaren. We'll call you if we need you.

Unbelievable.

What do you make of it?

Well, tiny room, no windows, no other exit.

They close this door, the room's as good as sealed.

The fire would have burned up all the oxygen pretty damn quickly.

Well, there's no cash.

Receipts and notes.

Let's think about this.

High heat. Lots of smoke, especially with that door closed.

Let me see.

Hmm. Acetate. Smells like vinegar.

Yeah, I'll take your word for it.

Yes.

And yet that doesn't smell of vinegar. Odd.

Lawson, what's that rectangular tin or whatever that is there?

Acetone.

Ah, it smells the same.

-Acetone's highly flammable.

-Right.

Especially when combined with nitrate film stock.

This fire was deliberately lit.

-Summers was alive when the fire started.

-Yes.

-You go through the foyer to get into here.

-So?

Whoever did this bought a ticket, or didn't have to.

'Deliberately?'

Who'd do a thing like that?

I'll need a list of all your employees

that were working last night.

Uh, Bella the cigarette girl, me and Adam.

And a list of all the patrons that you can remember.

Oh, it was a pretty quiet session.

Slow sales, 20, 25 people, that's all.

Is there anything else I can help you with?

We'll let you know.

Why would he want to kill his projectionist?

And set a fire inside his very own cinema?

I'll talk to a few more people, then I'll bring him in.

Hey. How much of the film did you miss last night?

Oh, I didn't see much of it really.

No great loss. It wasn't the usual Jimmy Stewart film. It was...

Oh, your friend Amelia was there, with her brother, Patrick.

Such a lovely boy. And he's so good to his sister.

I suppose he'll be there tomorrow night at the party.

Yeah, I'm not listening.

Lucien, are you going to join us any time soon?

Not very airtight, is it?

Is that a good thing?

Well, not if you want to asphyxiate someone.

I'll keep that in mind.

Jean, how many people were in the cinema, would you say?

I have no idea, but it was jam-packed.

-Really?

-Mm.

That's not what the manager said.

Hm. How's the study going?

It's interesting.

Even if certain people are more intent on matchmaking.

-I'm allowed to make suggestions.

-What?

Patrick Yorke. Jean's hopeful for me.

Oh. Yes, isn't he that lovely chap who helped break the door down?

-See?

-I thank you, both of you, but I am fine.

PHONE RINGS I'll get that.

Oh, Mattie.

-Doctor Blake's residence.

-Not interested, eh?

-Oh.

-Don't you start.

Can you...? I just need to take this in another room.

I have essays that need attention.

He seems like a perfectly lovely chap.

Excuse me, I'm just going to take that in the study.

Hm, certainly.

Mattie, you listen to me. You don't have to work all the time.

Well, I'll remember that next time I see you at your desk at 2am.

Touche.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Well, that depends if he's here,

so I don't forget...

It all depends on what he wants to do.

So, really, I don't need to ask permission,

but I can probably say 6.30?

-Busy day, eh?

-Yeah.

I've been interviewing people all morning who were at the pictures.

Mr Yorke, Mr Foster. Amelia.

Just take any seat you can.

Amelia, pleased to not have seen you in here recently.

Yes, I've settled down since then, Superintendent.

-Glad to hear it.

-We've already given a statement.

We just want to go over some details.

-Name?

-Bella Stapleton.

22 Peel Street North.

My, policemen are getting more handsome every day.

Occupation?

I sell cigarettes and popcorn at the Rex Cinema.

Other odd jobs. Whatever Mr McLaren wants.

And roughly how many patrons were in the auditorium yesterday?

The place was full.

Did you see anyone leave their seats during the screening?

Oh, a few people. I went to the toilet.

Oh, I went out to look for Vincent.

I was running late. I missed the film entirely.

Got there when all the action was happening.

-Did you see anyone else in the foyer?

-Just the other patrons.

Miles, the manager.

-What was he doing?

-Gypping people, probably.

Patrick.

I did some carpentry work for him a month ago,

he still hasn't paid me.

And I've only just gotten my business out of the red.

Miles hated Adam. They were always fighting.

-What about?

-Oh, lots of things.

Miles was tight. Adam was sleazy.

Sleazy? How?

He just was.

What sort of work did you do for him?

Repairs, joinery.

I built the door we had to break down.

The door to the projection booth?

Nothing wrong with the old door, but Miles wanted a door that sealed.

Did you hear any of their arguments?

A lot of them.

But there was one a few weeks ago.

Um, Adam was showing movies to his friends. After hours.

Right.

We heard someone yell, "fire".

We could see it in the booth, so we ran out to the foyer.

-Right.

-What was Mr McLaren doing?

Not much. He was pretty useless, really.

We were lucky the other bloke came along.

He was the one who broke the door down.

-You said the door was locked.

-Yes.

But wouldn't Mr McLaren have a key?

I would have thought so.

Thank you. That'll be all.

-Anything else, Miss Stapleton?

-I don't think so.

Well, thank you. You can go.

You know, it wouldn't hurt you to smile once in a while.

Go back and speak to that manager.

There's been some discrepancies in what he's been telling us.

-Take the Doctor with you.

-Yes, sir.

She was an attractive young woman.

I'm surprised you didn't ask her out.

Like I said, it was a pretty quiet day yesterday.

You can see from the ticket sales.

Ah. Must make it hard to earn a living.

It sure does.

Any chance you might have recognised some of the, what,

20 people you sold tickets to?

We're keen to see everyone who was here.

No-one comes to mind.

Really? No regulars?

I'm pretty busy on a work day.

It must be tough losing a worker like Adam Summers.

Yeah. He was a great bloke.

Good worker?

Not bad at all.

Despite the fact that he brought his mates in for private showings?

-You find anything?

-No. No, I didn't.

How did you get on with the manager?

Well, he's helping us with our enquiries.

He sells tickets, doesn't tear up the stub,

then resells the ticket for the next customer.

He's robbing the distributor, then falsifying the records.

-What about Summers?

-Mm. A lot of arguments.

Summers was screening films for his mates, after hours.

McLaren objected, then got a new door fitted for the booth.

He's in the interview room now.

-I'll join you.

-Sir.

I didn't mind the first time that he invited all his mates...

Lawson, Charlie, a quick word?

Take a seat, we'll be with you in a moment.

What?

Summers lived at 9 Erlandson Avenue.

Why would he have a four-poster wrought iron bed

delivered to Ealing Estate, Wicklow Drive?

-Ealing Estate?

-Yes.

I found that receipt and this note in his wallet. Look here. Ed.

The Tyneman family own Ealing Estate.

And Patrick has a son named Edward.

Charlie, any sign of a four-poster wrought iron bed

when you searched Summer's flat?

No. It was a single bed.

He had an old camera and some movie posters. The place was tiny.

Right. We'll talk to Edward Tyneman tomorrow.

But this note details an event happening tonight.

Tomorrow. I'll ask him how he knows Summers.

-You leave Tyneman alone.

-Scout's honour.

Not much of a scout, then?

Truth is, I never joined.

Every other room's a mess.

But this one's been decorated and swept clean.

-Just this room?

-Mm.

No-one's lived here for decades.

You said the place belonged to Tyneman.

His great-grandfather built it,

then Patrick's father built closer into town.

What do you make of this?

Someone's been held here.

I'll get the boys to search the property,

then I'll talk to Patrick tomorrow.

Uh, sir, the mail's not addressed to Patrick Tyneman.

It's addressed to Edward Tyneman. Looks like he's the official owner.

And there is that thing at the Carringbush tonight,

organised by Ed, which Summers was invited to.

Well, unlike you, I don't have a direct line to the Tynemans.

We'll make sure no-one else is at risk here,

then I'll talk to Patrick tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

MUSIC PLAYS FROM INSIDE

-O'Brien.

-Davis.

-Where are you going?

-To a hen's night.

I'm not sure you're invited.

Whose hen's night?

Amelia Yorke and Vincent Foster.

You don't know them.

What, men and women together?

It is the '50s.

Ugh, different rooms!

Hey, O'Brien.

What does Edward Tyneman have to do with all this?

He's Vincent's best friend.

-Is there anything else?

-Have a great night.

I will.

Ooh, Mattie! Oh, my God! You made it.

-Only just. Only just.

-You OK?

Mattie! Finally. You need a drink. Darling, you are thirsty, I'm sure.

-Will! Will! Three, please. Thank you.

-OK, maybe just the one.

Oh, Amelia, it is a hen's night and you are the hen, darling.

To Amelia and Vincent.

Oh, no, no, no, no, you are finishing that,

and then we're getting you another.

-Mm-hmm.

-And another.

-OK.

Oh, sweetie, you've become such a bore since you've met Vincent.

-Must be love.

-Yeah, it is.

Well, then, good for you.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATION

..it's nice up there in the hills.

Oh, I can imagine it is.

I've never been to Adelaide, Richard,

but I have seen the odd postcard and it looks rather hot to me.

Mm, gotta watch out for the bushfires, of course.

Yes, I can imagine. Oh, Lucien.

Oh, I didn't think you were here for dinner.

-Uh, change of plans.

-Doctor.

-It's...?

-Richard.

-Of course.

Excuse me for making myself at home. Jean promised me you wouldn't mind.

-Not at all.

-Um...

So, uh, Richard. Tell me, how do you know Jean?

I dropped my wallet when we were at the pictures,

and Jean came to my rescue.

-Oh, hardly.

-And we talked a bit.

-After the fire.

-Ahh.

-Richard's from Adelaide.

-I had family here until recently.

I see. Who?

My brother, Henry. And his daughter.

Is that who you stay with?

Henry passed some months back,

and after that his daughter, my niece, Rebecca, moved away.

Oh, I'm so sorry about your brother.

Richard, do you mind terribly

if I ask you a couple of questions about that fire?

-Oh, Lucien, no!

-It's all right. Of course.

It appears it was deliberately lit, using acetone as an accelerant.

-Acetone's highly flammable.

-And fairly toxic, yes?

In a small room, especially if it's airtight.

-That's horrible.

-Yes, it is.

Yes, it is.

What did you want to know?

Well, how long would it take

for a small room like that to run out of oxygen?

Depends on the fire.

Small room like that, two minutes, maybe less.

-Really?

-Also depends on what there is to burn.

Right. Do...?

Well... I'll leave you to it. Thank you.

If there's anything else about the fire I can help you with...

Thank you. And please, it's Lucien.

Thank you, Lucien.

-Good night.

-Good night.

-Cheers.

-Cheers.

Oh, I'm sorry...

LAUGHTER

Now I know it's traditional to wish the groom luck

on throwing his life away.

And we do. We wish him luck. He's going to need it.

I mean, we tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen.

So, to Vincent, you idiot.

-ALL:

-To Vincent.

-Congratulations.

-Thanks, Edward.

Kind words. I think.

Just go easy on these. That's the last.

Apparently the bride is celebrating her hen's party next door.

-Yeah, that's right. Yeah.

-Are you sure that's a good idea?

If it was my party, I wouldn't want the missus anywhere near it.

Well, there's a back room in case anything gets too messy.

Really?

I had some entertainment planned, but it fell through.

You organised all this?

I just threw some of Dad's money at it.

My father would sympathise.

-And you are?

-A ring-in, obviously.

The name's Charles.

Edward. Tyneman.

Vincent seems happy.

Yeah, well, he's in love, apparently.

She's beneath him.

-Want another drink, Charles?

-That'd be great.

Mrs Vincent Foster.

I know.

Mrs Vincent Foster. He's only the richest young man in Ballarat.

Hey, Bella, be nice.

You know that's not why I'm marrying him.

Paddy must be so relieved. To have you off his hands.

No, he's happy for me.

And speaking of Paddy...

Don't. All right?

She is married to her work. She's happy.

I've been fending off Jean as well, you know.

Ever since that fire when Paddy made such a hero of himself,

trying to save the projectionist.

What?

Well, let's just say that's one person we won't be missing.

More shandies?

I'm telling you, once it's your turn, you'll find one,

and then I will be your best man.

I will be your best man!

Rather curious, aren't you, Charles?

Hey.

I've checked, and no-one here seems to know you.

Or your father. So why are you here?

That's a 16mm projector.

-Oh, you a fan?

-Are you?

How did you know Adam Summers?

I'll go now, shall I?

-How have you been, Charles?

-Right this way, please.

My father sends his regards, Superintendent.

Shall I just sit here?

Council documents show that you're the owner of Ealing Estate.

-Is this correct?

-Yes.

It would show your father gifted you the property three years ago.

When was the last time you were there?

A year ago.

Exactly one year ago?

Pretty much.

Who maintains the property, if you don't?

Have you seen it, Superintendent?

There have been some changes made recently. Some furniture delivered.

A wrought iron bed was installed upstairs.

Squatters. Clearly.

Adam Summers was a projectionist at the Rex Cinema.

He was murdered two days ago. Did you know Adam Summers?

No.

And yet he had furniture delivered to your property.

As I said...squatters.

We found a note on him. "Carringbush Hotel, 8pm, Ed."

You organised a joint buck's and hen's night

at the Carringbush Hotel last night.

-Your name's Ed.

-No, it's Edward.

There's a difference.

So maybe you should ask someone else.

I've been helpful today.

But if you want to speak to me again,

you'll be dealing with the family lawyer.

Well, I think Charlie might be on the right track here.

-You still holding the manager?

-Hm.

Good. I'd like to have another look at that projection booth.

-You mind if I take Charlie?

-What are you looking for?

The question we've been asking is, why would someone kill Summers?

And we have absolutely no idea.

Perhaps the better question would be, why would someone light a fire?

So, Doc, what are you thinking?

I don't know. I just...

I just don't know.

Charlie, you've just put a choke hold on Summers, yes?

Uh, how did I get in?

Oh, say you're the manager of the cinema. You've got a key.

Or...or just maybe I'm Edward Tyneman and Summers knows me.

You be careful. You're starting to sound like me.

Now, you argue, or you don't.

Bear with me for a second, would you?

Now, somehow...somehow you manage to get a choke hold on him, yes?

And you maintain that hold until he's unconscious.

All right. All right, so I'm strong.

But you have barely two minutes. Two minutes to start a fire.

-Well, why don't I just kill him?

-Maybe that's not your intention.

What, so I just want to burn the place down?

Ahh! But this door, this door closes,

sealing the room, and the fire smoulders down.

Maybe I don't get that.

Maybe you do.

Maybe you do. But why, why do you do it here?

Well, because nitrate burns like nothing else on earth, that's why.

What?

This film.

This is 16mm.

Normally, film used for general exhibition is 35mm.

There seems to be a lot of this 16mm stuff here.

Edward Tyneman. He had a 16mm film projector at that party last night.

-You sure Mrs Beazley won't mind?

-Oh, she's used to me making a mess.

Not quite what I meant.

Mattie! Have you ever edited film before?

Can't say that I have.

Well, this was amongst the film stock at the cinema.

It's 16mm, not meant to be there.

So, we're going to clean it, we're going to cut away the damage

and we're going to stick it together.

-With what?

-Sticky tape.

-Why?

-Well, because we're out of ideas.

All right.

DOOR OPENS

Ah!

-You keep up a fair pace.

-Yes, well, I have to around here.

-Oh, cup of tea, Richard?

-Lovely.

-Lucien?

-In here!

What's through those doors?

(It's his mother's room apparently. He keeps it locked.)

Don't even think about it, Charlie.

-Oh, what's going on?

-Uh, the film from the fire.

We've managed to splice it together. Evidence.

Is that...?

That's the room in Tyneman's house.

Yes. Bloody Tyneman's. Edward this time, not Patrick.

Oh, the son of a local businessman.

That's...a girl.

What's she doing?

-Oh, Lucien!

-Jean.

-Jean! Jean, I'm...

-What the devil?!

Richard. Richard, please!

MATTIE GASPS

Mattie, are you all right?

What is it?

The birthmark. I know who that is.

Please.

Thanks for coming in, Amelia.

Take a seat over here.

Um...I'm afraid...

I'm afraid what I have to tell you...

HE SIGHS

..is going to come as unwelcome news.

Um, with this investigation into Mr Summer's death,

some 16mm film was found in the projection booth.

Now, it was damaged somewhat...

..but we managed to piece it together and view it.

It was pornographic,

and you were in it.

-Does Mattie know?

-I'm afraid so.

Tell me, how...how did this happen?

After my parents died, I really went off the rails.

My brother was always there for me.

What does Paddy have to do with this?

He borrowed some money to start a business,

but then he couldn't pay it back.

I see.

Who did he borrow money from?

Edward Tyneman?

He said that I could pay back all of Paddy's debts...

..if I let him film me.

HE SIGHS

Of course.

When was this?

Um, about six months ago.

I hadn't met Vincent yet.

And does Paddy...?

Does he know about this?

He found out. Men started...

-Yes.

-He was so angry.

I wasn't the only one.

There were other films, other girls.

-I'm so sorry.

-Ah, Amelia.

I feel so dirty.

Well, you're not. Not at all.

Just promise me you won't tell Vincent.

How is she?

Well, she's feeling...ashamed.

You know, she is never going to talk to me again

because I saw her doing that.

Listen, you did the right thing.

Terrible, Jean.

Trying to pay off her brother's debts.

-Oh, that poor girl.

-Yes.

Thank you. Um, by the way...

I'm sorry Richard had to see that.

Are you fond of him?

Let's not talk about Richard like this.

Are you fond of him?

Because if you are, you have my blessing.

Oh, thank you. I'm so grateful.

Why don't you organise the reception while you're at it?

You know, I'm not a fool, Lucien.

I don't just fall head over heels for any man who pays me some attention.

-Jean, I was just saying...

-Richard is a very charming man.

But after he saw that film, he followed me into the garden,

he got angry and he shouted at me.

I'm sorry, I had no idea.

Yes. So, thank you for your blessings, but this time, I'll pass.

Edward Tyneman's lawyer denies everything. Threatened legal action.

Can he do that?

Well, he can make life difficult.

You think Miss Yorke would go on record against him?

-No, no, it'd destroy her.

-Constable.

What do you think?

About the brother? Certainly plenty of motive.

But why didn't he go straight after Edward Tyneman?

Well, perhaps he was next on the list, after he killed Adam.

And set about destroying the film. What about the manager?

No, small-time fraud, perhaps, but no, this is different.

Are we certain the fiance doesn't know?

Amelia begged me not to tell him.

She did say, however, there are other girls.

Probably worth tracking them down.

Not that they're likely to come forward.

KNOCKING AT DOOR

-Lucien.

-Richard!

-So, this is where you work?

-When I'm not at the surgery, yes.

-Something I can do for you?

-Jean said you'd be here.

I wanted to apologise, to both of you.

-I lost my temper.

-No need to apologise.

Well, that sort of thing, it's the worst kind of exploitation.

Young women...

It's the worst.

I certainly hope those responsible are caught and punished.

But, uh, that's still no excuse.

I shouldn't have lost my temper.

Well, no harm done, I'm sure.

Now, listen, how long are you in town for?

I'm not sure. There are some family matters to attend to.

Right. I understand.

Thanks, Lucien.

-Now listen, dinner sometime, yes?

-I'd love to.

-Good.

-See you.

RUSTLING

Richard.

Lucien!

Get out of here, Lucien. Please, just go. Let me...

And what do I tell Jean? That I just left you here?

Richard, come on.

You weren't planning to die tonight and I know I wasn't.

Please. Please, I'm asking you. Don't...don't do it.

They told her no-one else would see it.

Then they travelled up and down the country, showing everyone.

My brother went into his local and saw his daughter...

..doing that.

While all the other drinkers stood around...cheering.

You got family?

Yes.

Well, then, you understand.

I had to do something.

Henry's health was never good.

That as good as killed him.

Sweet Rebecca dropped her bundle after that.

Where is she now?

-Mayday Hills.

-Ahh!

Committed. Six months ago.

Said she couldn't bear the thought of her father...

HE SNIFFLES

..knowing.

And the bastard responsible inherits this.

-He doesn't bloody deserve it.

-No, he does not.

So...

..what are you going to do now?

I'm going to stay with you.

And wait until you're ready.

Then together we'll walk out of here and I'll drive you back into town.

You're going to let me go?

Then why should I go with you?

Because you're a decent man, Richard, you are.

A decent man, in spite of what you've done.

Adam Summers wouldn't have thought so.

And I...

..I think he might be right.

Jean would expect you to accompany me back to town.

Really?

Even now?

Oh, yes.

Well...

I'd better not disappoint her, then.

The bloke who did this?

They won't get away with it, I promise you that.

Is there anything you want to tell us, Mr Tyneman?

I've already warned you, Mr Lawson.

My lawyer will be here soon.

The courts recognise early guilty pleas.

Then I'll accept nothing less than a full apology.

Fair enough.

The constable found something interesting

while he was going through the footage.

Stop there. There.

In the mirror.

Extortion, false imprisonment,

the producing of pictures or of a film

of an indecent, obscene or disgusting nature.

Is this your doing?

Is this your doing?

-Dad.

-Patrick.

I understand my family lawyer has been contacted.

So I believe. - I'm calling him off.

You're on your own.

What?

This is not the way our family conducts itself.

You've forced a young woman to prostitute herself,

and you've filmed it for your own pleasure!

-It was for money.

-It's disgusting, and it's illegal.

Well, that's never stopped you before.

You're a disgrace.

I apologise for wasting police resources.

-Charge him.

-Dad!

Dad! Dad!

You OK?

Let's go.

Sorry. Can I ask, does my fiance have to know about this?

He won't hear it from us, Miss Yorke.

Thank you.

But you might still consider telling him.

I understand he loves you.

Might be worth trusting that.

Sir?

Haven't you got some paperwork to do?

Yes.

He'll get there.

Don't tell me you've just washed the sheet we used as a screen?

-It was already clean.

-Well, it's cleaner now.

He was a good man, Richard. Mostly.

There was just something...

Yes, something...

..very sad about him.

The same can be said of a lot of people.

Yes, but we don't all light fires and kill people, do we?

No. No, we don't.

Jean...

..I am so sorry I offended you.

I'll never give you my blessing again.

Oh, just as well.

Pass me another towel.

-Thank you.

-You're welcome.