'This is the BBC Home Service. Here is the news.
'A major manhunt has been launched in Kembleford, Gloucestershire.
'Police are on the hunt for an escaped prisoner,
'absconded from custody
'whilst being transported from court to Her Majesty's Prison Gloucester.
'Described as a male in his 30s,
'six feet tall, slim build, black hair and clean shaven.
'He is wanted for murder and believed to be dangerous.
'Members of the public are urged to keep their doors and windows locked
'and anyone seeing him is advised not to approach but to call the police.'
Father, I need your help.
I was called out to Gallows Cross in Wenlock woods.
It's the site of the old gibbet
and known suicide spot.
Chaffing to the wrists. Suggests restraint.
These look like hypodermic needle marks.
Foul play, sir?
Let's not jump to conclusions until after the postmortem, DC Albert.
Rather exotic plumage for Wenlock woods.
Budgerigar. A sky-blue Opaline is my guess.
Don't tell me I can now add ornithologist
to your list of expertise.
My grandmother kept parakeets, sir.
Are you familiar with Dr Locard's principle of exchange?
Violent action constituting a crime cannot occur...
Without leaving a trace.
I'm well acquainted with the latest forensic theories,
thank you, Constable.
Bag it up and we'll...
- Inspector Sullivan. - Inspector Trueman.
There's been an error in communication.
This case was assigned to me.
We were in the area so the call was diverted.
Like you say, communications error.
I'm here now and can take over.
No need, we've just finished. Haven't we, DC Albert?
Yes, sir.
'Inspector Clive Trueman.'
Six months secondment from the British South Africa Police
on the personal recommendation of the Chief Constable.
No love lost between you two, then.
The dead man was Norman Finlay.
A reporter for the Gloucester News.
According to colleagues,
he'd been boasting about a big expose he was working on.
He planned on selling it to a national newspaper.
Fame and fortune beckoned.
Unlikely candidate for a suicide. What do you think, Albert?
I think I'm up to the challenge of my first murder investigation.
Norman Finlay's diary has one entry the day he died.
An appointment at 8pm. With whom?
We need to check all houses in the vicinity.
I've already taken the liberty, sir.
There are seven properties in a two mile radius. Two abandoned.
One vacant and for sale, which leaves four.
Good work. I'll need a list of...
Thank you, Constable.
Anything else I can do, sir?
I'm here to observe and to learn
but if there's any doing to be done then say the word.
Some tea wouldn't go amiss.
White, no sugar, one rich tea biscuit, sir.
- How's the new boy shaping up? - Yes...
Still, you can't fault him for enthusiasm.
Did you want something, Sergeant?
Norman Finlay's postmortem report.
I'm not used to having my findings questioned.
Just clearing up a few anomalies.
These here look like hypodermic needle marks,
but there are no sign of any drugs.
Perhaps he went to his doctor for some blood tests.
And you didn't notice the chafing to the wrists?
I noticed contact dermatitis,
most likely caused by over starched shirt cuffs, cheap carbolic.
I hope you're not implying I'm past it, laddie?
Jock Hamilton's a decent man.
He's a drunk, past his prime, should've been retired years ago.
I began house-to-house enquiries, starting with Wenlock Dip,
home of Sir Jeffrey Greensleeves.
Our Justice of the Peace.
- You know him? - Yes.
Not as well as Sid does.
Inspector Sullivan, Kembleford Police.
Is Sir Jeffrey at home?
He's changing for lunch.
Can I help you? I'm Harriet Greensleeves.
Afternoon.
We're trying to retrace the steps of Mr Norman Finlay,
whose body was found on Monday at Gallows Cross.
How horrible.
That's the third suicide there in four years.
- We're treating it as a murder investigation. - What DC Albert means
is that we're following up more than one line of inquiry.
You didn't happen to see Mr Finlay on the day in question?
Gallows Cross is a mile from here.
Grisly place.
It's where they used to hang the highwaymen.
Even the dogs won't go near it.
Opaline blue.
- Mmm. - My grandmother had one.
He's called Houdini,
after his skill for escaping the cage
- and taunting us from the top of curtain poles. - Hmm.
- Was your husband here on Monday? - Yes.
Yes, we dined at eight and then we played bezique,
so I can say for certain he didn't see your Mr...
Finlay.
Thank you for your time, Lady Greensleeves.
Do you mind me asking how you got that black eye?
Not at all.
Wretched juniper.
- I was pruning when a branch snapped back and hit me in the face. - Nasty.
And so thorny, you're lucky it didn't scratch you to ribbons.
May I ask what the blazes you think you're doing?
- Sir, I was merely enquiring how... - I know what you were enquiring.
And I will thank you not to interrogate my wife
like some common criminal. Do you know who I am?
Sir Jeffrey, I do apologise for DC Albert.
- He's new to the job. - Apologise?
Be informed,
I'm acquainted with the Chief Constable
and will be letting him know my feelings in person.
Good day.
I've heard you're a man to watch.
I think you'll find I can be trusted, sir.
Inspector Sullivan.
Someone's been a naughty boy.
Sir Jeffrey Greensleeves has lodged a complaint.
- It was a misunderstanding, sir. - Mmm. You bet your boots.
What goes on between a man and his wife is no business of the police.
Especially when the man is a very big cheese in this county.
DC Albert was a touch over zealous, sir.
This is highly embarrassing.
I think it better all round
if you're temporarily suspended from duty.
- Suspended? Sir, I... - It's a few days. Slap on the wrist to save face.
I'm sure Trueman here can step up in your absence.
Sir, I...
..sir. Pardon the interruption, sir.
At ease, Constable.
- I'm finished here. - TELEPHONE RINGS IN BACKGROUND
I hope we can expect you tonight.
There's some people I'd like you to meet.
The feathers are a match,
which means we can place Norman Finlay at Greensleeves House the day he died.
I'm off the case...
DC Albert.
Tell it to Inspector Trueman.
Er, we're working on Locard's principle.
The violent action of a crime will leave traces of evidence...
That isn't evidence.
It's a feather. And there was no crime.
The postmortem found suicide.
- But, sir... - The case is closed, Constable.
So if you'd like to redirect your zeal to the statement filing.
CLASSICAL MUSIC
TELEPHONE RINGS
Kembleford, 731.
'Sir, it's about the Finlay case.'
Inspector Trueman was hasty in closing it.
I think Greensleeves had you removed because we were on to something.
'I re-examined Finlay's clothes for further trace evidence'
and found something far more interesting.
'Then I suggest you put it back where you found it,'
before Inspector Trueman catches you flouting his orders.
'It's important.'
- Remember Finlay's missing expose... - FOOTSTEPS AND KNOCKING
'Good night, sir.
'Enjoy your party.'
Can you meet me in the evidence room?
Please, sir. I think you'll want to see this.
Albert was right.
Greensleeves had Busby remove me from the case
because I was on to something.
Trueman wilfully ignored evidence under his nose.
Jock Hamilton's postmortem was at best incompetent
- and at worst, fabrication. - Conspiracy.
That was the night of the police benevolent fundraiser.
The Greensleeves are here.
Please excuse us, I need Father Brown for moral support.
Harriet.
- Oh. Oh, goodness, what happened to your eye? - Silly...
Oh... And Jeffrey. Just the man, um,
could I have a word
about my chauffeur's court appearance next week?
Time has barely flown by since the last one.
If I can borrow our chairlady to meet our new inspector.
Clive Trueman, on secondment from Rhodesia.
Er...
Inspector Sullivan was being quite over zealous
in pressing for a custodial sentence.
I have Sid's word
he was only looking after the items for a friend.
Isn't that right, Father?
Mr Carter has assured Lady Felicia that that was the case.
There you are, you see?
The word of a priest.
And you know how difficult it is to get the staff.
I may even be forced to drive myself.
STRAINED LAUGHTER
DISTANT CLASSICAL MUSIC
ALBERT BREATHES HEAVILY
Help! I need help in here!
ALBERT CROAKS
Hel-met...
Two.
B34709.
Don't! You'll bleed to death.
B-3-4-7-0-9.
I hid.
I hid...
Trust no-one.
FOOTSTEPS
SULLIVAN BREATHES HEAVILY
KNOCK ON DOOR
Mrs McCarthy?
The police just telephoned.
A fugitive was seen skulking around the back of the church not a while back and...
and the place is full of nuns.
Thank you, Mrs M.
He's in there with you, isn't he, Father?
I'll explain later. For the moment,
could you to hold them off for as long as you can?
And...
may I borrow your scarf?
Father Brown is hearing confessions.
You can't go stampeding into the church
in the middle of a holy sacrament.
I trust my men and I can behave ourselves with suitable decorum.
Please stand aside, madam,
or I'll be forced to conclude you're hiding something.
Search it, boys, with a tooth comb.
Inspector Trueman, I presume?
I'd like to see in here.
In here
is a penitent under the seal of the confession.
I beg your pardon, madam.
Nothing here, sir.
Well, as you haven't found what you wanted,
perhaps I can get on with MY work.
Your reputation precedes you, Father.
All good, I presume.
None of it. According to Inspector Sullivan,
you're a loose canon with delusions of grandeur.
Meddlesome,
recklessly foolhardy, morally dubious,
yet possessed of a certain tiresome intelligence,
which I won't insult.
So if you were contemplating interference, be warned.
I will be watching you.
Thank you.
Looks like he hasn't had a square meal in days.
We came as soon as we could.
Well, here's a moment I thought I'd never see.
I'm innocent.
That's what they all say.
Thank you, Sid.
Thank you.
The inspector
- was about to finish his story. - Oh...
SULLIVAN SIGHS
You blamed Detective Constable Albert for your suspension.
Did you come back to have it out with him?
No.
What about the medallion?
Medallion?
In Albert's hand.
He must have torn it from the neck of the killer.
We found no medallion.
You allege DC Albert was alive when you found him.
Did he give any clues as to his killer before he died?
No.
- FATHER BROWN: - 'What did the medallion look like?'
A bird of some sort.
And letters PM...
- something V. - Per Me Caeci Vident.
"Through me the blind become sighted."
The Owl of Minerva.
- That's not good news. - No.
It's the seal of The Illuminati.
Illumi-what?
The Enlightened, it's a sort of offshoot of the Freemasons.
A web of secret societies, they comprise a social elite.
- Here In Kembleford? - Well, they say they're everywhere,
lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings and levers of power.
Rumour has it Monty's Great Uncle Roly was something of the sort.
Not that he ever admitted it.
They guard their identities closely.
Which is why they're so dangerous.
Norman Finlay's expose.
If he planned to unmask such a group...
Then I believe they would be prepared to kill
to protect their secrets.
And are powerful enough to cover their tracks.
BACKGROUND COUGHING
..strangely agitated by the results of a routine postmortem.
In my professional opinion, he was showing signs of mental stress.
Inspector Sullivan blamed DC Albert for his suspension....
Sullivan was kneeling over him,
reeking of whisky,
with his hands around the knife.
It's true there was no love lost between...
Inspector Sullivan and DC Albert.
Because of the particularly odious nature of this crime,
the prisoner is remanded in custody for committal to the Court of Assize
to stand trial...
..for murder.
- Name? - Rhys Jones. - Rhys Jones.
Name?
Sullivan.
- MAN: - Officer Tindle.
ENGINE STARTS UP
'Was it wise to return to Kembleford?
'How else will I prove my innocence?'
How will you?
Albert's last words.
Helmet two, B34709.
The murderer was German.
Helmut. Hel-mut.
The numbers meant something. An evidence bag.
I think Albert hid something in one of them before he was killed.
So your master plan was to break out of jail only to break back in again.
Father, should you tell him or shall I?
I suggest a good night's sleep.
We will think of something in the morning.
"We" will do nothing of the sort.
I'll be on my way in the morning, as soon as it's safe to leave.
You won't last five minutes.
While I appreciate your sanctuary, Father, I do not intend to
throw in my lot with you and your
dubious associates.
Him and his dubious associates is all you've got from where I'm standing.
Which is why I'll take my chances alone.
Come in, come in. Her Ladyship has news.
The Governor of Southern Rhodesia is an old chum, so I rang him
for a lowdown on Inspector Trueman.
Never heard of him.
Nor is there any record of him in the South Africa Police.
A cuckoo in the nest.
Now...
Yes, I think that will do at a pinch.
I'll just move the buttons.
Our police escort has just left.
They have spotted a fugitive in Hambleston
and they have chased down there to collar him.
Bravo, Sid.
You?!
Yeah, that's right.
I took your hat and coat and put it on a riverbank.
I mean, it won't fool Trueman but he will be forced to dredge it.
Which will give us breathing space to find out what
Detective Constable Albert hid in your evidence room.
And I've done a recce. One outside window.
Deadbolt lock but no bars.
You might want to do a review of your security.
It's designed to stop criminals breaking out, not in.
Ten-minute job.
Unless, of course, you still think you're "better off alone"?
- I'm going with him. - I think that's it's too risky.
You think I'd let a known felon with a court case pending
loose in my own evidence room.
Besides the fact you don't know what you're looking for.
Do you mind?
Trade secrets.
Jock.
Padre!
Join me?
A wee bit early.
Even for you.
So, to what do I owe the honour?
Inspector Sullivan. You testified that he was of unsound mind.
- What's it to you? - I should have noticed.
Then perhaps I could have prevented this terrible tragedy.
Don't beat yourself up.
Wouldn't be the first Copper that tipped over on the job.
PHONE RINGS
Aye?
Aye, right, I'll be there.
I have to sign a body in.
Five minutes.
Help yourself if you change your mind.
A, B...
808...
029...
709.
Frankie the Fence. I made the arrest.
Well, well. What do we make of these?
Frankie the Fence has size ten feet?
Frankie the Fence is a woman.
Come on. We have not got time for this.
Put that back.
This evidence will get me six months in the poke. The way I see it, you owe me.
The debt doesn't extend to the theft of your evidence.
Says the man holding stolen evidence in his hands.
The distinction being, I'm innocent and you were caught fair and square.
- Put it back! - Or what, you'll raise the alarm?
'Open the door, please, Sergeant. I thought I heard voices.'
No-one signed the key out. I'll take a look around, sir.
All clear, sir.
'Frank Albert's memorial cards.'
His mother sent them for the Requiem Mass.
Francois Albert.
Francois "Al-bere."
He was French?
His father is.
They moved to England at the start of the war
because they thought it would be safer for the child.
DOOR OPENS
Any success?
That depends on your viewpoint.
These are what Albert hid before he was killed.
A pair of shoes?
Norman Finlay's shoes. With something wedged inside.
A left luggage ticket for a briefcase.
A journalist always keeps copies.
The missing expose?
We'll soon find out.
We will do nothing of the sort.
The contents of that briefcase have already caused two deaths.
Whatever's in that case may prove my innocence.
I just need time to think.
Have you forgotten which one of us is the police officer?
I'll find Albert's killer, with or without your help.
Sit down, Sid!
Hello? Yes.
Inspector Trueman, please.
7WHISTLE BLOWS
CAR ENGINE STARTS
Can I have a word, officer?
Of course, sir, come with me to the station, please. How can I help?
Good of you to come alone.
It's all a bit cloak and dagger. What's wrong with the pub?
You have dangerous friends
and I hoped for old times' sake we could be honest with each other.
Go on.
Norman Finlay left it in the left luggage office.
And I want to trade.
TWIGS CRACK
Did you come alone?
I was about to ask you the same question.
Please don't scream. I won't harm you.
Inspector Sullivan.
I'm not... I'm innocent.
You can't stay here.
Follow me, I'll take you somewhere safe.
It's probably a deer, the speed it ran off at.
Good. Neither of us would want this conversation to be overheard.
What do you know about sodium pentothal?
It's an anaesthetic.
A curious area of interest for a pathologist.
You read my files.
Yes.
It was on your desk.
The Russian Secret Police used to call it
"the remedy that loosens tongues."
Truth serum.
Norman Finlay had something you wanted.
But he wouldn't give it to you.
I calculated the doses exactly.
Enough to make him talk,
not enough to kill.
That's what happens when you let a drunk loose on the living.
I didn't hurt the boy.
I know.
His last words were in his mother tongue.
He was French.
Elle m'a tue.
"Elle m'a tue."
She killed me.
Frank Albert's killer was a woman.
Where are we going?
An old poachers' cottage. You'll be safe there.
Safe from whom?
You know who killed Albert and Norman Finlay?
It's better you don't ask.
I've been framed for a murder I didn't commit.
You got embroiled with the wrong people.
For your own sake, the less you know, the better.
Wait a minute, we're heading back to Gallows Cross.
These woods are like warrens. They're deceptive.
We're heading directly northwest, we've circled back on ourselves.
You were warned off.
You were quite exasperating in your persistence.
Where is this?
The end of the road, Inspector.
Albert had the makings of a good detective.
It's important, remember Finlay's missing expose.
Night, Constable. Don't burn the candle at both ends.
Good night, sir. Enjoy your party.
We have a problem.
'Can you meet me in the evidence room?
'Please, sir, I think you'll want to see this.'
FOOTSTEPS APPROACH
Sir?
DOOR CREAKS
You're cleverer than you look, Father.
Look what I found.
I take it he wasn't part of the plan?
You gave me your word.
He doesn't answer to you.
If it's any consolation, I admired the boy.
He had tenacity and he went down fighting.
Just like Norman Finlay.
You lured him to your house.
He had something that didn't belong to him.
And now I have it.
Sit.
How did you get here?
You double crossing...
I was protecting you.
Take it and let us go.
Then you'll have no more lives on your conscience.
Your lives are insignificant. There are matters of more import at stake.
Oh, yes.
Your new world order.
- Father. - It's more omnipotent than your church will ever be.
I'm going to get rope.
I'm not going to do anything.
You are going to shoot the priest and then, tortured with remorse,
you will take your own life.
If they move, kill them.
On my count...
..let's make a run for the bikes.
Are you insane? He'll shoot us.
I'm staking my life on the fact that he won't.
You're staking both our lives.
Have you got a better idea?
Three...
Two...
One.
Stop! Stop, I'll shoot!
I'm counting the ways this can go wrong, Father!
I said I'll shoot!
Shoot them!
Idiot... I said shoot them!
GUNSHOT
You never fail to disappoint, Jock. They're headed for the road.
We'll get the car and cut them off.
What are you waiting for?
Gone too far.
Enough.
Very well.
If you say so.
GUNSHOT
- How did you know he wouldn't shoot? - Because Jock Hamilton's not a killer.
You just said he killed Norman Finlay.
Correction, he's not a murderer.
Harriet Greensleeves, on the other hand...
You worked all this out and kept it to yourself?
It wasn't just your safety I had to consider.
We need to get off the road, Father.
- Not much further now. - Further? To what?
Just keep calm and let me do the talking.
Did the Chief Constable send you?
Yes Ma'am.
There were some complications.
Don't be a fool.
He hasn't got the..
The next word you say will be your last.
If you're such an expert in human behaviour, Father,
then you know I will do this.
No, you won't.
One, just one reason why not?
Because you're innocent.
If you pull that trigger, you will be as guilty as she is.
The Chief Constable says you're trustworthy.
I am, Ma'am.
So, you know what needs to be done.
Ma'am.
Cover me if she tries anything.
Harriet Greensleeves, I'm arresting you for the murder of DC Frank Albert.
You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do
so but what you say may be given in evidence.
You have no evidence.
Yes, we have.
Um...
Is someone going to tell me what's going on?
TAPE SPOOLS
'I'm not going to do anything. You are going to shoot the priest...'
We've had our eye on Chief Constable Busby
and his cronies for some time but we didn't have a shred of proof.
"We" being?
A division of Special Branch,
specialising in the activities of groups such as these.
You let them frame me for murder.
My orders were to infiltrate.
Norman Finlay's murder threatened to throw the whole mission
and I couldn't risk blowing my cover.
On the subject of which...
..you still haven't told me how you managed it?
I beg your pardon, ma'am.
Nothing here, sir.
So, I was intrigued as to why you found your quarry
and then let him go.
And your alias. "True man."
Why label yourself so...
..if it wasn't the truth?
I see I'll have to choose more carefully in future.
And you didn't see fit to share this with me?
I thought you might do something reckless.
You did do something reckless.
And I couldn't risk you seeing the contents of the briefcase.
Which was?
Diaries, passed to Norman Finlay by a defector from the group who
became disenchanted with their methods.
Naming names. Records of conspiracy, bribery and corruption.
You switched the briefcases.
My only hope was to get a confession.
Father Brown thought Hamilton might oblige.
Poor Jock.
Requiescat in pace.
The plan was to intercept him
with the evidence on his way back to Kembleford.
And the real case?
Is in the proper hands.
You saw nothing so need fear no repercussion.
The same can't be said for you.
Don't worry about me.
I don't even exist.
KNOCK ON DOOR
We're in a meeting, Sergeant.
But, Sergeant...
If you could see your way to three teas.
Yes, sir. It's good to have you back, sir.
It's good to be back, Sergeant.
DC Frank Albert was intelligent...
..tenacious,
dogged in the pursuit of truth and justice.
That he was cut down before his prime will forever be
a loss to the forces of law and order.
He was an officer...
..man...
..and son to be proud of.
I thought you'd like to know.
Sir Jeffrey Greensleeves has been charged with accessory to murder
and Chief Constable Busby with perverting the cause of justice.
And Inspector Trueman?
- Gone. - And that's an end to this horrible business, I hope.
There is something I would like to say, Father.
Grateful as I am for your assistance,
nothing that's happened will change my opinion of you
as a somewhat dangerous and subversive influence.
By rights, I could have you all arrested.
Go on, then.
If you imagine that this will in any way colour our future
dealings, or that your meddling in police matters is any more
welcome, you're sorely mistaken.
I see.
Well, that's gratitude for you.
Thanks for nothing, Inspector. Guess I'll see you in court.
I've been informed that due to an...
administrative error, the evidence in question has been mislaid.
Isn't that right, Sergeant?
Sergeant...
Oh, right. Yes, sir.
Which means we will be forced to drop all charges on this occasion.
But rest assured, Mr Carter, we will not be nearly so careless in future.
I want a full investigation as to how this was allowed to happen, Sergeant.
Heads will roll, mark my words.
Yes, sir.