Three days and I still keep forgetting. Will they ever get this sorted out?
The mysteries of a blocked drain! I'm sure they're on top of their game.
What game is that? Gin rummy?
Do you think this is too much? On the road with the rozzers?
I don't want to look too frivolous!
Nor do you want to disappoint 80% of your male fan base who find you pretty under pressure.
It's just a question of striking a balance.
Good God, would you credit it? Remember that colonoscopy I had last month?
- What about it? - It's been nominated for an award.
- Don't be ridiculous! - As good as.
It says here, "A panel of top consultants deemed the advanced fibre optic technology
"to have produced a near textbook study of intestinal polyps. "
It's being put forward as a possible reference source at a major London teaching hospital.
I suppose I'm gonna have to go out there again and make an exhibition of myself?
It's one thing to have a contraption like that on a film unit, but stuck outside your house?!
I wonder what I'm up against. The competition will be fierce.
Sorry, love?
There's that Carla what's-her-name off the telly! Hello, darling!
Are you off to spend a penny, girl?
Hey, Carla Borrego! Have one for me!
Marty!
Good morning, Mr Creek. Just having a quick "zzz". How's it all going?
- Don't ask. Have you got the...? - Oh, yeah, sorry.
All right down there? Your brain's not getting starved of oxygen or anything?
- Who is this? - It's me, Adam.
Right. I knew that, of course.
And tell me, Adam. How long have I been down here?
Just coming up for four days and I think the disorientation is starting to kick in.
No, no, I'm good, good. I trained myself to the feak of pisical fikness, remember?
The only real problem I've been encountering is I think I'm getting some vibrations down here
from the Circle and District Line.
It's like every five minutes when a train goes through.
It gets kind of juddery.
Actually, Adam, I'm afraid we've had orders to bring you up
from the powers that be.
Two young women filed an official complaint against you yesterday for sexual harassment.
Sexual hara...? I'm six feet undergroundl
They claim you were looking up their skirts.
I know. I know.
They say you were in a state of arousal and appeared to be physically stimulating yourself.
Oh, manl You've got to be jo...
12.25 to Upminster?
10.35 a. m. And news of a particularly gruesome motorcycle accident
in which both victims were tragically decapitated
has brought us to Barston General Hospital.
Detective Inspector Adrian Fell, cool, calm and detached as ever
as he goes about his grisly business.
- The heads are on the wrong bodies. - How can you tell?
You've got a black guy and a white guy. Call it intuition. This is just sloppiness.
11.15 and in response to an urgent message from a colleague,
we're now heading across town to check out a mysterious sudden death.
- Have we got a name for this guy? - Maurice Rumpole, single, retired bookmaker.
Lived alone. People next door said they heard... Sorry. This is?
"Eyes & Ears", part of a new prime-time reality strand.
It has all been cleared. If I could ask you to give us a bit more level, that would be super.
Carla Borrego, Herbie Bryant. Yes, the neighbours heard...?
Some kind of loud and very violent struggle going on last night about 11.
Very helpfully kept it to themselves.
The alarm was raised by the cleaning lady this morning
when she couldn't get into his bedroom on account of... these.
A couple of sawed-off draw bolts,
both of which had clearly been shot by someone inside the room.
As you can see, it took some fancy footwork to get past THEM.
And when we did...
The windows were all secure on this side.
But... I don't know...
I've got one of my bellyaches telling me something's not right in here.
So here we are at the very coalface of the investigation process,
the air heavy with a cloying sense of death you could almost cut with a kni...
More chaos on the tube as another power cut hits London during the rush hour...
Hmm... Bag, Sergeant.
What's this? Has he got hungry in the night?
Nothing so mundane apparently, by a long way.
Got your penknife?
There we go, then. What does your bellyache tell you about this?
One, two,
three... four pairs of pyjamas,
all with a walnut sewn inside the jacket.
Hey!
You've had two public warnings, but it hasn't penetrated, has it?
- That's a criminal act! - And the tragedy is I'll get away with it!
We are so overstretched just now. Now the other side of that tape. I won't tell you again!
What appears to have killed our friend in there is sleep apnoea -
a cessation of breathing while in a deep sleep for reasons often unknown
that can be aggravated by obesity and occasionally lead to congestive heart failure.
A lot of patients only get it when they lie on their back,
the solution to which is to sew a hard object like a walnut into your nightshirt
to force you on to your side.
Of course, if it happens to accidentally slip out...
You're kidding?
I'm impressed.
It was all in that medical book on the bedside table. Obviously something he suffered from.
The fact that his TV was tuned to Channel 5 during a Michael Winner season
could account for the nasty noises coming through the walls.
Is it my imagination or has he lost weight?
Hey, you've got a job to do, I've got a job to do.
Aaagh!
Next time we'll have you toe-tagged!
Just because I'm not some fluffy bit of skirt off the box!
- One of these days, you bastard! - Yeah? You'll do what?
One of these days.
No, it was nothing in the end. Some old goat choked in his sleep or something.
So, what's new? Any post for me or messages?
Nah, whatever, open it.
Say again?
Hang on. I've got to write this down.
"Go to... " Yeah.
I think I know that.
Tomorrow night?
12.30?
Is that all it says?
No, no, I heard you.
Just wondering what the hell it means.
Yes, it's been totally fascinating,
observing first hand how a real detective works - the amazing Inspector Fell!
- Good? - Such a sharp mind. Seen nothing like it!
He solved a sealed room mystery yesterday in, what, five minutes?
What appeared to be this bizarre impossible murder had the simplest explanation.
So tune in this evening, 9 p. m. You may find it illuminating.
Is this coming with us or staying behind?
Gonna need that next week at the theatre. Just stick it on the truck. Cheers.
- OK, I'll look out for it. - And I'll see you around.
Adam! How are you feeling?
Yeah, I bet, now you're back in the land of the living.
Well, these big public endurance numbers are all a load of tosh really.
You won't be trying another mad idea like that in a hurry!
Sorry?
For one insane moment there, I thought I heard you say... Please tell me I was imagining it!
Absolutely not. What, I'm gonna make a thing like this up?
No way was he there on business. The guy's wiping off fingerprints!
Are you still there?
Hello!
No, it's cool. I mean, I'm in a box.
God knows what we're sitting on here, Ray,
but someone knew this was gonna happen and wanted to drop him in it, and whoever it was...
Holy shit!
Come back, you bastard!
Oh, what is this when it's at home?
Hmm? Oh, yeah, I was very lucky to get hold of that. They don't usually send copies out.
Not a fully graded print, but I thought I might cast my eye over it tonight.
I'll get some popcorn in
I'll do it again, all right?
So it's fist, then crotch, in you go, knee right up hard in the balls.
That's it. Try it again.
Ah! Thanks for dropping by.
Just wondered what your thoughts were on this one.
Woman appears to have topped herself, but we've got the feeling there might be more to it.
Oh, what did you make of our little curiosity on Tuesday? The affair of the five walnuts?
Unravelled rather deftly, I thought, by the local plod.
Hmm. As solutions go, it came virtually gift-wrapped, wouldn't you say?
Medical book next to the bed marked at a page that conveniently explained his condition?
Didn't it strike you it was very odd the way those patches were sewn into his pyjamas?
- It was almost as if... - OK, studio! Let's take a break.
Run it past me later.
Hello. We start tonight with the disturbing case of a female lawyer
whose body was found two nights ago hanging from a light fitting in her North London office.
A suicide? You decide.
Marion Crespo was a solicitor in her mid-40s
whose work for the Crown over the past ten years had led to many successful prosecutions.
Sadly, we can only speculate as to the horrors that took place in this office
in the last few minutes of her life.
As she sat at her desk working late into the night,
was she disturbed perhaps by a violent intruder?
Did she lash out in a desperate bid to escape before being overpowered by her assailant,
who then strung her up from the ceiling to create the impression she'd hanged herself?
Remember, the images you've just seen are based on conjecture, not fact,
but bear these points in mind.
One, Marion Crespo was happily married with no history of depression
and no motive, as far as anyone could see, to take her own life.
Two, how could she possibly have hanged herself in the dark,
given that when she was found, the lights in the room had been switched off?
And three, who had been chewing the lump of gum that was found in this plant pot?
Gum that, according to cleaning staff, was not there when they left the premises at... Ugh!
This is disgusting! Has this been in someone's mouth?
Come on, guys, let's get this sorted. That'll be ten minutes while we reset the nail polish!
Baxter.
Hi, where are you? I just got back. You'll be thrilled to know we're back on mains drainage,
subject to a camera test they have to do in the pipes to see if any roots are coming through,
but the dreaded honey wagon has been safely dispatched and out of our lives.
Not entirely, Brendan! Where the bloody hell do you think I'm ringing from?
I've been banging and shouting myself hoarse in here!
Well, this is a bit of a pickle. I don't know what to say. He said he was off to Nottingham.
Nottingham?!
Oh!
Yes?
Oh, hi. How are you?
Oh, God, this is service! Thank you.
Unfortunately, I've got no money on me, nothing.
That's all right. We've been instructed to ask if you have any plans for dinner.
- Thanks. - Good luck. See you soon.
You're slumming it. Must be a slow week. What happened to your wheels?
Temporarily off the road.
What's he up to, gormless tit? I thought after that coffin stunt, he'd have learnt his lesson.
- Guy got crucified. - And then some.
No, you misunderstand.
Funny, isn't it?
When people ask me what first attracted me to this business,
the words "I might one day get to scrape bird crap off a guy on a cross"
rarely spring to my lips.
Of all the barmy publicity stunts!
If people think I'm a quitter, they can think again.
This is about the power of the human will, Jonathan.
To confront a challenge as old as mankind itself.
Let the world bear witness this is no trick.
The triumph of belief and determination over adversity.
And this time, I'm not gonna give them any reason to stop me.
Are you seriously planning to stay up here for seven days? You'll go slowly out of your mind.
Can you move those two girls away, please? I'm in danger of seeing down their blouses.
See? It's started.
You do that show with what's-her-name? Blondie on the beat?
- I try not to make a habit of it. - You might want to give her some advice.
To be very careful about the company she keeps.
That lady lawyer they found in a noose...
I know who did it.
And I've got it on film.
Slight problem at the moment. It's in the boot of my car and my car's been nicked.
Without evidence, no one's gonna believe me.
- Either way, shouldn't you go to the police? - That's where I have a problem.
Mmm!
One of my late wife's many fine bequests.
I can give you the recipe. Anyway, thanks.
For giving me a reason not to eat off my lap tonight.
Well, it beats an evening in staring at my husband's colon.
Let's not go there.
And it's been great to fill in a bit of background.
God, it's got to be a nightmare, your job. Headless bodies first thing in the morning?
I suppose I'm fascinated to know what sort of person can cope with all that.
Someone who can take death in their stride, I suppose.
Oh, sorry. Can I...?
Hello. Carla Borrego.
Actually, not that convenient, Jonathan. As it happens, I...
What?
When was this?
So what exactly are you telling me?
Right. I think I've got that.
And... I'll probably call you later, then.
OK. Bye.
Well, I suppose I'd better be getting along now really.
When you've had your coffee?
Oh, thanks.
It'll be hot.
Yes...
Death is a big subject.
- It is. - Too big for most people.
It frightens them.
So they close their eyes.
Box it away.
And try to forget that it's going to happen.
Only one day we all have to be prepared.
You know, to open that box.
And maybe...
...we shouldn't be scared of what's inside.
Maybe we...
Sorry. You're... busy.
- I'll just... - No, I was just going, so...
You got my message, then? A phone call would have been nice.
I've had things to do. And I'm here, right?
Right.
You know, my daughter and I have things to discuss, so let's see if we can get you a cab.
Lovely. You're so kind. You'll get this back first thing tomorrow. Goodnight.
Goodnight.
Actually, um, just here will be great.
Thanks.
Why didn't you tell me about this, Jessica?
Because it's not true is why! I don't know what more you want!
It's like everything you asked of me, you know, I did it.
This is... I don't know what this is! And I don't know why we have to even discuss it!
Because we have a contract, Jessica. Both of us! With Mr G.
And I think we might just care what HE'S gonna make of it all.
Yeah, I'm sorry, OK?
But you know...
I have to do this.
Hello! Is anyone about?
- Shut the door and get over there! - Are you Dick Turpin
Just watch where you're treading!
Like a Tracey Emin retrospective! God spare us!
After what you told me on the phone, it all started to snowball suddenly in my mind.
That gum they found in the plant pot - HE chews gum.
And if there's any here in his rubbish, we could get it checked for DNA and see if they match.
And while I'm doing that, there's a whole file of stuff on her over there,
our lynched lady lawyer, which might yield a clue.
So you want to make yourself useful?
I wasn't half relieved when that daughter of his showed up tonight!
Just as he was giving me this weird number about preparing for death.
Then later on when I snuck back, he was waving these papers at her
and going on about a contract with someone called Mr G.
But what was creepy, I don't know...
He'd got like this small wooden casket...
he was just about to open which I can't explain...
It felt like it had some kind of strange power.
Like the one in "Hellraiser"
whose demonic porthole spewed forth the progeny of the damned?
If we could raise our game above the level of a school playground, I'm trying to be sensible!
Coming from someone looking for spearmint up a chicken's bottom, that's sound advice
I think we need to concentrate on essentials here, don't we?
If he did go there deliberately to kill her, who would have known about it in advance
and wanted to tip off the press, so it would all be caught on camera?
What?
March '87, she put together a very strong case against a couple of East End professionals,
Jason Lee and Patrick MacDonald, leading to their conviction.
A case in which she was assisted by an up-and-coming detective sergeant.
Adrian Fell.
- That is interesting. - But not as interesting as this.
It says it all hinged on the word of a former associate of the defendants, Derek Crozier.
He turned Queen's evidence in return for immunity from prosecution
and subsequent witness protection involving a complete change of identity.
A few pounds lighter in those days, but what do you think?
God! It is him, isn't it?
The guy with the walnuts.
Why do I feel guilty when you do this?
Because it's completely illegal?
So what's our thinking now? He didn't die a natural death at all?
It's a hell of a coincidence.
Two people who helped put those gangsters behind bars both come to a sticky end
in the space of 24 hours.
Which is why I think...
I need to carry out a little experiment with these pyjamas.
Now, how tall are we saying this guy was?
He was more your height than mine.
I guess.
In which case... think you could do the honours?
- So, are you nearly done? - Done.
I'm not sure it's gonna work so well with the trousers all bunched up around the back.
We'll just...
- And how is it? - Well, I can feel it, but...
It won't exactly keep you awake because it's in the small of your back, whereas...
But here...
Aagh!
That would definitely drive me over on to my side.
Which is meant to be the point.
So he wouldn't risk choking.
Which suggests...?
Whoever set this up to disguise the fact they probably suffocated him with a pillow...
...didn't totally think it through.
But the bolts on the door...?
Almost certainly drawn shut from the other side.
A couple of bits of twine soaked in paraffin that could be burnt off afterwards.
- Page one stuff really. - To a sealed room specialist.
- Time we were in bed. - Yeah.
It might pay to just sit on this for a bit until things are clearer.
Till we can get that gum or come up with a name of someone here that begins with "G".
Anyway... I'm taking you where now?
Back to the hotel presumably...
Darling, we're a bit late. I'm sorry.
What time did you crawl in last night? You were dead to the world when I left.
I know, but we think we may have...
You said something on the phone about a new angle on that body in the bedroom,
which we can run past the Inspector, who had a 12 o'clock window this morning.
So if you want to just park your bottoms...
Of course, I don't think you've met our gentle genius yet.
Jonathan Creek, the man who can re-route reality.
No, but may I say
that your work on the Forrest Sweetland murder impressed a great many of us.
So what have you got for me?
Well, to my way of thinking,
those things in his pyjamas had been sewn in much too far down to really work,
and I don't know about the sleep apnoea thing.
But I cross-checked with a specialist. It does happen. Except...
there's more, isn't there, that you've found out here
you don't want to share with me.
Mr Baxter!
I'm really sorry, sir, but I...
What is it?
OK, you're going to take her word for this against mine?
It's not a question of my word. It's on camera.
Why do you think I waited three days till some arse finished joyriding round with the evidence?
I mean, how does it go here exactly?
The killer comes in, strings her up, wearing an Inspector Fell mask from the local joke shop?
- Jesus Christ Almighty! - Yes, OK, Herbie! Enough!
All right.
Here's the whole deal.
Jessica, my daughter, has had some problems.
Chemical dependency, buying and selling. Well, how often does it happen?
She picked the wrong friends, they fell on her like vultures.
In the space of a year, she was a ghost.
Well, between us, it took a lot of pain, a lot of work,
but she got through it.
The bench was lenient, but she knew what to expect if she ever went back, so...
Spool forward 18 months to last Monday.
This woman Marion Crespo sends me a letter...
advising me that certain sworn statements have come into her possession about my daughter.
Basically, a major drugs bust she was handling
and Jess had been named as one of the suppliers.
And it might be in my interest to drop by for a discreet inspection of the documents.
So I get there and find the place empty.
Naturally, I'm not gonna sit around twiddling my thumbs.
You found that bit of gum I dumped in the plant pot in the corner.
Big deal.
So, yeah, I had a sniff around to locate the material in question,
which, as she said, isn't gonna look good on my daughter's CV.
No point now waiting for this person to show up
and I don't particularly want to advertise the fact that I'd been there.
All I could think about now was, "How did this happen
"when she had given me every reason to trust her?"
I don't know why we have to even discuss this!
What do you want me to say?
How much fun did you have putting these together?
Can't you see this whole thing's a fit-up?
Someone who wants to see us both suffer.
Don't believe me, do you?
Not one of you.
So, I suppose... What do you think? He shut her up because she was trying to blackmail him?
Something he said in there... Did you notice?
That gum he'd been chewing was found in the potted palm to the right of the door.
But what did he say? That he dumped it in the plant pot in the corner.
The one near her desk? Why would anyone move a lump of gum from one pot to another?
That's a very good question.
That's the kind of piddling detail that could turn this whole business inside out.
Jonathan Creek.
Oh, don't!
If it weren't for the unfortunate iconic imagery here,
this could be straight out of a Merrie Melodies cartoon of the 1940s!
Jonathan, help me!
Got your prime comic ingredients all nicely in place,
the precariously poised fall guy with steaming pile of manure.
What would Tex Avery have done here, I wonder?
Stop!
There's always a chance he's right, I suppose - she did fake those pictures.
- Hmm... - I can't help feeling
he's hiding something from us, even now.
- Heave! Heave! - Come on!
He doesn't care, does he, your man, I'll give him that, who he offends?
These days, that's virtually nobody.
In fact, this whole exercise has been... What would you say?
Monumentally pointless?
On the other hand, has it made some things blindingly clear?
Well done, guys. I think I'm just about, yeah, pretty damn perpendicular.
Whoaaaaa!
Careful with him. He could have broken his spine.
Just go now, all of you. Leave it with us.
So... dare I ask what it was that suddenly came to you back then?
Hmm?
Oh, yeah, well, it could be nothing.
Or it could be I'm just starting to see what Mr Fell is all about.
In which case, I'm thinking all roads lead back to Marion Crespo's office,
where the key to this whole affair...
Jonathan? Oh, God!
Adam?
- What the hell? - Who was on that stretcher, then?
Oh, no. They couldn't possibly have...
OK, Sergeant.
Thanks.
What did they tell you?
Everything.
And... what do you believe?
What do you want me to believe?
Yes, this is a message for Sergeant Bryant from Jonathan Creek.
We're on our way to Marion Crespo's office.
It'll take us about an hour. If you've got a second to meet us there...
Ah.
Now, now, now. I think that answers our first question.
So if you're saying he put the gum in this pot here...
how did it end up over there?
- It doesn't make any sense. - On the contrary,
if you look at what actually happened here, what he said makes perfect sense.
Because it defines the whole, thoroughly nasty, premeditated operation.
I wouldn't mind a clue now about what it is I'm supposed to be feeling excited about.
You'll be telling me next what was in that box of his.
No, but from the way you told it, I can make a pretty smart guess.
Come on. Haven't you worked out who Mr G is yet?
Why Inspector Fell might have wanted to prepare you for death the other night?
Like he said, nowadays it's the last...
Aaagh! Ohhh!
Sorry to spoil your fun, Mr MacDonald, but you are nicked.
Tempting as it is to put this down to the press going about their normal business,
peddlers of lies and distortion,
Hattie Baron, as it turns out, was just part of a much bigger set-up here,
a set-up we're now aware stemmed from the nastiest piece of work in this whole affair.
If I'd recognised Crozier in that bed, I might have got there sooner.
Just to say we're on our way to Marion Crespo's office.
Once it clicked and I picked up your call on the office voicemail,
oh, yes, lovely Patrick James MacDonald.
Closest we'll ever get probably to a real-life Napoleon of crime,
finally nailed, along with his chum Jason Lee, in March 1987,
on a fairly breathtaking raft of charges that appeared to have put them both away for life.
But I think you've got an update for us, Sergeant.
3rd of June, '92, Lee appears to have lost the plot
and strung himself up with some knotted tea towels.
Macdonald, helped by a smart legal team, managed to swing an early parole.
Ended up back in circulation just over a month ago.
Vowing, we can assume, to get even
with three people who, by now, he didn't like very much -
the key witness at his trial, the lawyer who put the case together
and the young detective who brought him in.
Mr Rumpole didn't hang around very long - victim of a rare sleeping disorder,
we were meant to believe,
while Ms Crespo goes the way of his late colleague at the end of a rope.
And to round it all off, what could be sweeter than to see the police officer
put away for a murder he didn't commit?
So a couple of letters go out, one to get you into this office
to check out those rigged statements about your daughter,
the other to a hungry press photographer who'll make the most of whatever she sees
from that stairwell in the building opposite.
What did she see?
Answer - exactly what she was meant to.
The whole point being the position of the observer here was critical.
In the face of fairly damning evidence,
a chance remark about some chewing gum threw up a possible lifeline.
How do we square the fact it was thrown in the pot in the corner, but found in this one here?
Who's gonna move a bit of gum or a potted plant around after you'd left the room, and why?
Unless, of course, they didn't.
And the gum was found exactly where you threw it.
In a plant pot in the corner, only not the corner we were thinking of...
the whole objective here being to place you at the scene of a murder
without you realising it.
Let's say the deed's been done an hour or so beforehand.
Then, crucially, a thin partition goes up to screen off the body.
Decorators have already been planted there tarting up the premises,
so a few bits of plasterboard knocking about aren't going to attract much attention.
Vital, of course, for you to be discovered at just the right moment,
which would be down to that security officer she had to wait around for on the stairs.
All you see when you walk in is an empty room,
but to Hattie and her camera, the scene appears quite different.
For a bit of dressing, they re-hang a few pictures.
A not very flattering cartoon about the police
I imagine caused that sneer just before you left the room.
They made it all good again afterwards.
Apart from a few tell-tale holes where they had braced the panels.
Of course, the irony here is if we'd had a clearer take on the fundamentals in your life...
we'd have seen how really unlikely these charges were.
A tiny trigger point this morning which, looking back, was probably quite significant.
So the killer comes in, strings her up,
wearing an Inspector Fell mask from the local joke shop. Jesus Christ Almighty!
Yes, OK, Herbie! Enough!
It wasn't the hectoring tone, was it, cut through you at that point like a knife?
But the words.
Because you've never made anything of your faith.
In a country where these days a mock crucifixion would barely raise an eyebrow
and in a job where a committed Christian runs the risk of ridicule.
Like the rest of us,
he's had some bad press up there over the years, but...
Mr G?
If you get past all the rant and the ritual...
past all the religion basically...
to what's good, worth building your life around.
I mean, yeah... you know...
we could all do a lot worse.
I swear on the Holy Bible that I'm telling the truth.
Can you put hope in a box... and lock it away?
Well, someone certainly looked after you today, eh?
They have.
And thanks.
Good God above, Brendan. This is possibly the most revolting thing I've ever seen.
This is what you spent the last three nights glued to after supper?
It's not "Fantastic Voyage". What did you expect? Donald Pleasance?
I think they lowered in a cable, didn't they?
There you go, then.
Basic mechanics of the Marion Crespo thing, and I've scribbled a couple of diagrams there.
Thanks. That'll be just the ticket. You mock me, people, but listen to this.
"We thought you would like to know that the endoscopy of your transverse colon
"was judged to be the perfect archetype of its kind
"and was first choice for inclusion in our reference library. " Yes!
"In addition, the panel were impressed by an earlier study of your Fallopian tubes,
"which was also of exceptional... "
- Fallopian tubes? - Yeah. This envelope...
Think they got you mixed up with someone else?
So this wasn't even your video in the first place?
How did that happen? Where did you get that tape from?
- It was on top of the TV where you left it. - I left it on the table here.
THAT is the video survey they did on our drain.
They feed a camera down the pipe and... That's what you think my insides look like?
With tree roots poking through and all that sludge and...
- I'm not an expert! - Not an expert?
Never mind. Come on. We're going to this do.
To which you're more than welcome, Jonathan. The ITV winter press launch.
Brendan's got four new prime-time shows about to be previewed.
Unless you'd rather stay and stare at the contents of a sewer!
No contest, Brendan.