Ooh, sorry Mr. Frost.
I didn't mean to startle you.
We're running a wee bit late this morning.
We overslept and Donald's got a terrible migraine.
Nice sport this, isn't it?
I was thinking of taking it up myself.
Slow and gentle.
Must get a lot of thinking done, do you?
If it's thinking you want, try Open University.
Competition this is.
All right.
I saw a bloke catch a body in here once.
About a year ago, it was.
I don't know what it weighed,
but it wasn't half a big one.
Look, haven't you got anything useful to do?
You're frightening the flaming fish.
Sorry.
Oi!
Hi, Debs, just off?
What's that, the new (unintelligible)?
You'd smell it if it was.
Just a little something to brighten my living room.
How's the physio-therapy?
I don't do physio.
It's aroma therapy.
And you know that very well.
It's fine, thank you, Les.
See you sometime.
Hello, Shangri.
Anything else you care to say to us?
No sir, you've been most considerate.
What about you, Chief Constable?
Nothing, chairman.
I think the file tells us everything we need to know.
Well, then thank you, Superintendent Mullett.
I have to say
you've answered all our questions very lucidly.
If we should decide to recall you for the final round,
you'll be hearing from us within the next seven days.
Thank you.
Nicely done in there, Mullett.
You realize they were very pleased?
Glad to hear it, sir.
Competition's weak too.
One word in the ear though.
Denton's time sheets.
I'm informed they were late again last month.
It is very important
to keep a tight ship in the circumstances.
Remember, performance is the big buzzword now.
Yes, I do know that, sir.
How's Jack Frost, by the way?
Awful, that young Barnard's death.
Must have been a real blow for Jack.
A lesser man would have resigned from the force.
Colonel,
a word in your ear.
(Knock on door)
Come.
DS Wallace, sir.
Ah, DS Wallace.
Welcome back.
Thank you, sir.
How was the college?
The course went very well, sir.
Ambition.
It's a very fine thing.
I like your new office.
Yes, things have changed a good deal
since you were here last.
For the better, I think.
There's a modern professional attitude
right through the station.
And you heard about D.I. Frost?
Yes, sir.
Although I'm surprised he resigned.
Resigned?
Who told you that?
No, no.
The fact is I granted him extended compassionate leave.
The death of DS Barnard hit him particularly hard.
He always was an emotional officer.
Me too sir.
I was very close to him once.
What, Frost?
I meant DS Barnard.
Really?
The man at the top
is always last to know about these things.
Does that mean Inspector Frost is coming back, sir?
Well, better assume not.
When I...
The fact is, sergeant,
his leave has put me in an awkward position.
Well, you knew him,
you know what I'm talking about.
Frankly he left the place a perfect tip.
Always was his way.
Well, it's no longer our way, sergeant.
First job, I want you to take over his office,
working to me.
Sort it all out.
Just go through everything.
Unfinished cases,
untranscribed interviews, notebooks.
Staff recharges, time sheets.
The lot.
No witch-hunt mind,
but I need a very tight ship
over the next couple of weeks.
Inspection, sir?
As I said, ambition,
it's a very fine thing.
(Phone rings)
Hello.
Oh, it's you, how did I guess.
No, not this one.
Not this time.
Yes, I know that's what we've done in the past.
Up yours too.
See you tomorrow,
thank you.
Hi, anybody home?
Course not, why ask?
Hazel.
Hello, George.
It's good to see you again.
Well, Mullett's given you Jack's old office I see.
It could do with a perfume spray.
He's asked me to go through his paperwork.
Rather you than me.
Did you hear about Jack?
Yeh?
Mullett said he's on compassionate leave.
Crafty old devil.
No, Jack resigned.
But Mullett doesn't want to upset
the Chief Constable.
Jack always was his favorite copper.
Yeah, I remember.
What's he doing now?
Wandering round Denton
dreaming he's free at last.
Mr. Frost.
Nice day?
Is it?
I meant yours.
No, not really, Brian.
No, not really.
Donald's doing eggs Benedict tonight.
One of his specialties.
He should really be in a restaurant.
Yeah.
Yes all right, Brian.
All right, thanks.
Shangri?
Puss, puss.
Puss.
Shangri.
Hello.
Good girl.
Do you want some dinner?
Ah, good evening, Norman.
Good evening.
Quite a coup for Denton.
The Lydian Quartet.
Yes, yes, absolutely.
Well, well.
The Bill goes classical?
I'm sorry?
I take it we are off duty for once?
You failed to recognize me
without my mortuary gown.
Derek Simpkins,
your friendly neighborhood pathologist.
Yes, of course.
You know, Superintendent,
I never had you down
for a lover of serious music.
Ah, well I'm not really.
It's my wife Elsbeth.
She belongs to a small music club you know.
Ah, there you are Diana.
Remember Superintendent Mullett?
Yes, of course, good evening Superintendent.
Are you?
Waiting for my wife, yes.
You'll have a long wait, I'm afraid.
In that case let's get seated.
I can't bear to have music interrupted.
You're not still at it?
This will take ages.
I don't think Jack ever filed a single thing in his life.
No, he thought the filing cabinet
was the same as the fridge.
Have you checked his computer?
His computer!
Have you found anything on the Black Farm Murder?
Black Farm?
Yeah, take a look at that.
It happened about eight years ago.
A rich farmer, Jonathan Dale
was murdered just outside Denton.
A tealeaf called Branson went down for it,
died in prison last year.
Now this new bloke says he pulled the trigger.
One of Jack's?
Oh, yeah.
Who fancies a nice night out?
Who wouldn't?
Suspicious death, Riverside Apartments.
Jordan's already down there.
Yeah.
Well, off you go.
It's time for your first solo.
It's this room here.
Hello, Chris. what is it then?
One dead male,
probable suicide.
The girl from next door Leonie Viner,
found him when she looked in to feed the cat.
That's her, through there.
You did put someone with her?
Yeah, a WPC.
Yes, of course, right.
Better show me then.
Right.
Through here.
Leonie called a doctor, lives upstairs.
He said he'd been dead an hour maybe two.
Got an ident yet?
Yeah, she says he's the tenant,
Lester Bryce-Jones.
He lived alone,
except for a large bunch of keys,
some nice pictures,
and his cat.
Leonie feeds it sometimes.
She's very distressed,
her mother's not home yet.
You said suicide?
He'd been drinking,
taking pills.
Couldn't it have been sexual?
No idea, darling.
I'm a married man.
What's this?
A doctor?
(Beeper)
Duty calls.
Yours probably!
You could have a four letter word ending in UCK.
There you are.
Right, go on.
How many's that then?
You've got a triple letter there,
so that makes twenty.
Some people have all the uck.
Let's have another glass.
Ah, we're dry.
I'll go and ask Donald for another bottle.
He makes a nice selection, don't you think?
Uhu.
Or would you prefer a cup of Horlicks?
No no, I'll stick with this.
DS Wallace, thank you for coming.
You are aware I was at a chamber concert?
Sorry.
Not seen you before.
New, are you?
You have, but you won't remember.
I used to be in uniform.
Didn't they tell you?
I'm a pathologist, not a police doctor.
I don't attend crime scenes,
I conduct autopsies and forensic research.
I thought a pathologist ought to be on scene.
Did you really?
I'm not sure it's suicide.
There are drugs around,
possibly some hospital connection.
Oh well, get out your notebook, Diana.
I don't generally take it to concerts, Doctor.
Will this do?
Wouldn't have a stethoscope in there as well, would you?
In here I suppose?
Interesting.
Aah.
Over here, sir.
What's this then?
Our art collector?
And you left him hanging just for me.
Mr. Lester Bryce-Jones.
I presume a doctor looked at him already?
Yes, sir, said he was dead.
Brilliant, can't be faulted, can he?
What of, though?
He thought hanging, sir.
We'll decide that at the post-mortem.
But I see why you need a pathologist.
Anything else here that might be lethal?
He seems to have taken drugs.
There are more in the bathroom.
These aren't drugs, these are medicines.
Come here, Diana, will you?
What's all this on his eyelids?
That's mascara, doctor.
What's going on?
Darling are you all right?
You should have called me.
You don't like me to.
Mrs. Viner?
Let me tell you, your daughter's been brilliant.
She called the doctor.
And the police.
I know she's brilliant, thank you.
Why did you go in there?
To feed Shangri,
I thought he was out.
Anyway, what happened?
I saw him in the hall earlier.
He seemed fine.
Why did he do it?
Kill himself?
We don't know that he did, Mrs. Viner.
What else then?
I mean, surely nobody would want to murder Les.
You knew him quite well then?
We need a formal identification.
Oh no, no, no.
I didn't know him.
Not really.
He must have relatives somewhere.
Do you know where?
No, I don't know where.
I don't know anything about him.
He'd only lived there a year.
Now go away, please,
I want to look after my daughter.
Leonie, I'm sorry,
we're going to have to talk to you again tomorrow,
as a witness.
Will you be all right tonight?
Of course she will,
now please go.
Ssh, it's all right, it's all right.
There we go, Mr. Frost.
Donald says enjoy.
In that case I will Brian, thank you.
You should really try muesli sometimes.
It's a lot better for the bowels.
Oh, I nearly forgot.
Letter for you.
Oh, right.
Well, blow me.
Good news, is it?
Granny died and left you a massive fortune?
Well, very nearly.
About a year ago I burnt my house down
because I wasn't paying due care and attention, was I?
So half a lifetime, you know, went up in smoke.
Doesn't sound like very good news to me.
Ah, but I was insured.
God knows how because
I could never remember sensible things like that.
"...Iike to advise you the process of refurbishment
is complete and your property
will shortly be available for reoccupation... "
Oh, Mr. Frost.
I'd say that calls for a celebration.
So do I.
Let's have some fried bread?
I really wouldn't like to be your stomach, Mr. Frost.
Donald, Mr. Frost wants some fried bread!
Why?
Why was the Black Farm murder file
removed from the records?
No idea, sir.
It must have been for fresh inquiries.
Well, who took it?
Why wasn't it signed for?
I can't imagine, sir.
This is a disciplinary matter.
I've called a press conference on the Black Farm Murder
in an hour's time.
Somehow I assumed I'd have the file with me.
Find DS Wallace.
She's on a case, sir.
Dead male, Riverside Apartments, possible murder.
Isn't it all on the computer?
This was eight years ago, Toolan.
Before we had computers, if you remember.
Yes, I do remember, sir.
Sergeant, come here.
I need that file at once.
Now do I have to start an official investigation?
Very well, sir.
You'd better come and see.
And what's that?
Well, that must be one of Jack's little jokes, sir.
It's here.
Ah, at least it hasn't left the building.
Well, you'd better look inside, sir.
I see.
Is that another of Jack's little jokes?
Well, he must have taken the stuff home with him.
Well it's totally irregular.
Yes it is sir.
But I expect he meant to bring it back
when he returned from his compassionate leave, sir.
It's not the only one, is it?
Jack liked to keep things in his head.
Right that does it.
I want his head
and I want it on the block.
Find him, bring him to me.
And that file.
I'm not quite sure where he's living, sir.
Then start a search for him.
Arrest him if necessary.
Arrest him?
Yes.
He's broken procedural rules.
He's impeding an urgent inquiry.
He's bringing the force into disrepute.
You heard me.
Arrest him!
Mr. Frost.
Hello there.
Hi.
Here we are.
All ready for inspection.
Yes, It's nice.
Very very nice.
You'll be pleased to have it back.
After all, home is always home.
Full of memories.
Family.
You never forget, do you?
No, I know what you mean.
We've restored most fixtures and fittings
and we're willing to pay a reasonable sum
for furniture replacement.
That's very good.
Shall we look around?
I wonder, if you'd mind.
I like to look around on my own.
Yeah, sure.
It's all yours.
Oh, thank you.
My pleasure.
Bye now.
Goodbye.
Looks like one of ours.
Certainly has our laundry mark.
But you can't tell who it belongs to?
One of the doctors perhaps?
Doctor?
No.
More likely one of the porters.
A porter?
How much would he earn?
Working all hours?
Say a thousand a month.
Not a lot is it?
If you want a lot of anything,
you don't work for the NHS.
Anyway these days it's nothing to do with us.
It's a privatized service.
All to do with the internal market.
You'd best talk to the contractors.
They might be able to help you.
They're in the High Street.
Thank you.
It's very comfortable isn't it, sir.
Ideal for the study.
Yes, yes.
Very pricey though, I bet.
It is genuine cowhide though.
Ah, is it?
all right, well, I don't think so.
Well, I don't think my insurance company will stretch to it.
They're a bit worried about BSE.
Well, if there's a problem,
we can arrange a year before payment,
or no percent finance...
No joy, sorry.
We never employed a Lester Bryce-Jones.
Do you recognize him?
Don't think so.
Nice boy though.
He isn't now.
When you employ people,
do you check their drugs record?
If they'd been busted
we wouldn't have hired them.
How would you know?
If they put it on a form?
Can I see a form?
(Car horn)
Mr. Frost?
Yes?
Can you come with us, please?
Do what?
Mr. Mulletts orders sir.
You are joking?
Look, all right!
You're going to be in big trouble!
I'll tell ya, (unintelligible).
All right I can manage, thank you!
Right.
Good morning.
Thank you for coming.
Now I've called this conference
in view of the recent press story
about the Black Farm Murder.
It may seem that there's been a new development
and that we...
Jailed the wrong man.
There's no evidence of that Mr. Longford.
A man was tried and convicted
after a thorough investigation by a senior officer.
Jack Frost?
Yes.
So this confession in Spain by Mr. Ferdie Giggs,
you don't recognize it as genuine?
That is an uncorroborated interview
given by a foreign journalist
with someone we don't know.
You don't know him?
But he was interviewed as a suspect at the time, wasn't he?
By Detective Inspector Frost.
As far as we are aware,
he was never seriously considered as a suspect.
He claims he was at the scene of the crime.
Does he?
He'd have to be, if he did it.
What do police records show?
Mr. Giggs' statement will be looked into
and any necessary action taken.
Even reopening the whole enquiry?
Yes, if the evidence warrants it.
So, if you'll bear with me
until the full facts are available,
I'll call another conference then.
Thank you very much.
Still no Frost?
No, sir.
Well, who's looking for him?
Mr. Toolan.
Well,
several things to make the day an interesting one.
First, apart from being dead,
he was very healthy.
Suntanned.
Could have used a health club.
Two, he was gay.
There are certain well,
clear indications.
This could explain
why he used mascara and faint face make-up.
Might have been an actor of course.
Three, dental work wasn't done here.
Maybe America.
It's a long way to go to the dentist.
Four, he had a severe fracture of the tibia,
maybe ten years old.
So he took painkillers.
He wasn't a druggie, though.
I'll fill this in and Diana will give you a copy.
A. Disease or condition leading directly to death,
Massive constriction of the throat.
Otherwise asphyxiation by hanging.
That's definite now, sir?
Yes.
B. Other disease or condition leading to
A. Drugs overdose,
specifically painkillers
dextroproproxyphene,
which may have produced unconsciousness.
I see.
C. Have I reported the case to the coroner
for further action?
Yes, I have.
Which will presumably result
in a verdict of death by misadventure.
Could it have been murder?
If he was unconscious,
he could hardly have hanged himself.
Unless he was experimenting.
We'll leave those subtleties to the coroner, shall we?
Evidence of identification, your problem.
Diana will give you dental records and fingerprints
so you can check them with your usual due diligence.
Found out anything about him, sergeant?
Not much.
But if it's foul play
it passes to a senior officer.
Oh, Jack.
Well, how are you?
Well, it's very nice of you to ask,
since I gather you issued a warrant for my arrest.
Nonsense, Jack,
I just needed you back here in a hurry.
Why don't you sit down.
All right, thank you.
Now, things are in a real...
You do realize you're still on the strength don't you?
Didn't you get my letter of resignation?
Of course.
You handed it to me yourself.
I've kept it here
under lock and key.
Now I realize it was written
in emotional circumstances.
Yes, it was.
I just wanted to give you time to reconsider.
Well, both of us time to reconsider.
That's very nice.
And there's me imagining
that you were over the moon.
Jack, I won't deny that
Iife has been quieter over the last month.
Until lately, anyhow.
But you're missed, Jack.
Sorely missed.
You do realize....
I heard about your application for promotion.
Really?
Funny how news gets round, isn't it?
Mind you it must be a bad time
having a senior officer retire.
Especially the Chief Constable's darling.
That has got nothing to do with it.
Private ambition doesn't come into this at all.
The point is that since you left
we've had two major problems at this station,
both of them connected with you.
First it was the time sheets...
You haven't called me back here
to talk about time sheets, have you?
These days we need to keep a very tight ship.
Now it's the Black Farm Murder.
But you've seen the press reports.
It seems we can't settle it without you.
It seems to be a very poor reflection
on the other officers, doesn't it?
Because when we looked for the file it wasn't there.
And even if it had been
I don't suppose there'd have been anything in it, would there?
Now I want you to get back to that case,
and this time I want you to do things properly.
Everything in the notebook,
everything on the record sheet.
Expenses properly kept,
files stored on the computer.
Every problem I have in this station at the moment
is down to you and your slipshod ways.
Just remember, nobody's indispensable.
Well, all right then you probably are indispensable!
Jack.
I'm going to tear this letter up.
No, I think I'd better hold onto it, sir.
You never know.
One of us might want to reconsider.
Anyway, good luck sir.
What?
With your promotion.
You know,
onward and upward.
Good morning.
Nice to see you, guv.
Thank you.
Jack? Yes?
Oh come on tell me, how was it?
Oh, you know, as well as can be expected.
He said I could either be a DI again,
or go to prison.
Oh, difficult choice, eh?
Yeah, you could...
Well, what the hell is going on here?
You turn your back for five minutes
and look what happens.
You're lucky your stuff's here at all.
Mullett said put it in the corridor.
Yeah, but who did this?
Look they've completely ruined my filing system.
Sorry, guv, it was me.
Well, well.
WPC Hazel Wallace!
What are you doing here without your clothes on?
I've been made up.
Detective Sergeant.
Really, good, well done.
If I'd known that I'd have been back weeks ago.
Well, you were one reason I asked for some time here.
Oh, really.
George, the Riverside Apartments case.
Looks like it might not be suicide.
Well, shouldn't I be told about it then?
(Phone ringing)
Frost.
Yes, yes, yes it is.
Yes, all right.
Yes, she is.
All right, thank you Ernie.
That was Ernie Trigg.
He's got something for you downstairs,
and he says...
You're never going to believe this.
I've never seen anything...
All right, Ernie, just try us will you?
All right.
Now, this death at Riverside Apartments.
It's just been confirmed as a possible suspicious.
Oh, right.
Well, these are the fingerprints
taken at the crime scene by the SOCOS.
Most are the victim's.
A man we think is called Lester Bryce-Jones.
Yeah, all right, get the lights, will you?
But this one, FP1 7,
that's an unident.
Except, see,
we've got a match.
Prints from our own files.
Identical, right?
Yes, well, that's what it looks like Ernie.
Whose are these?
Well, that's what you're not going to believe.
Those prints are from an old case of yours, Jack.
The Appendix Man?
Remember?
The Appendix Man?
Oh, don't be daft.
The Appendix Man died a year ago.
He was fished out of the river.
He was drowned, I know 'cos I was there.
So was I Guv,
Yeah.
And then because we couldn't identify him
he was stuffed into the morgue for ten months.
They don't do that without good reason.
I know that, Jack.
Come on, this is ridiculous.
Are you trying to tell me
that a bloke who died a year ago
hops out of his coffin,
hitches a lift down to Riverside Apartments,
commits a murder,
then nips back to the graveyard
probably stopping off at the Red Lion for a pint?
Well, there it is Jack.
Scientific fact.
He's called Lester Bryce-Jones,
we think.
But we've still not established evidence of identity.
Check banks, social security,
especially hospitals.
Another thing, check gay clubs and gyms,
he was into exercise.
In more ways than one, apparently.
(Applause)
Yes, all right, thank you.
Yes, I'm back, but it's not all good news.
Hornrim Harry is still here.
All right, come on, let's pay attention.
It appears that we've got two unidents.
One old one and one new one.
Now, can anyone tell me do they remember him?
We all do, guv.
Yes, but you didn't though, did you?
That's The Appendix Man, right?
Yes, well done, Jordan.
The Appendix Man.
So called because one Saturday last summer,
when Denton Football club
was playing it's big match at home,
he walked out of Denton General in a hospital gown
even though his appendix was about to burst.
A few hours later
he was fished out of the river DED.
We thought he might be a head case.
Yeah, well, we checked out everything.
Hospital records, dentistry, fingerprints.
They all came back zero.
Now, is that his stuff down there?
Yes.
So, we had a man without a past,
without a present and without a future.
Everything that we know about him
is here on this table.
Right, so, come and take a look everybody.
Especially the newcomers.
Right.
What have we got.
Hospital gown.
Hospital bracelet with a number on it,
and his clothes.
All good quality but worn.
Might have been down on his luck.
Yeah, well, could be.
There was the driving licence, guv.
Oh yes, and the driving licence.
Now this driving licence was found in his jacket pocket
and it's in the name of Colin Drysdale.
But Colin Drysdale is a local headmaster
who somehow allowed it to be nicked by a tom.
All right.
So, there you have it.
The Appendix Man.
Sorry, sir.
Yes.
I'm new.
Was he the criminal or the victim?
Neither.
There wasn't a crime,
only a mystery.
He died from drowning.
And if he hadn't his appendix would have killed him.
He could have jumped,
or he could have been pushed.
There wasn't a crime then.
But there is now.
Because his prints were found
at the Riverside Apartments crime scene.
Sorry again, sir.
Yes.
But I understood you to say he died a year ago.
Yes, he did.
But the prints at the scene were fresh?
Yes they were.
Stand up, what's your name?
PC Martins, sir.
Martins, well done.
Because that's your problem for today, children.
We've got two unidents.
One died a year ago.
And the other one died a couple of nights ago.
So how did the phantom hand of dead male one
turn up near the corpse of dead male two?
Answers on a postcard please.
So, come on let's get back to work,
chop chop, off we go.
Hello, Darren.
What do you want, Mr. Frost?
I'm not doing nothing.
Well, I'm doing this.
Yeah, so I see.
I wanted you to remember the last time
you were doing nothing.
When was that then?
It was about a year ago.
When you were living in the amusement arcade.
You bought a stolen driving licence for a tenner
from a tom called Nikki Bulmer.
I think you were just doing
one of your good turns at the time.
You must think
I've got a memory like a hippopotamus.
Look, I'm an uptight citizen now.
Mr. Blair's looking after me.
I'm on the new employment scheme
for young people.
Raising my consciousness.
That's very good, Darren.
How high is it now?
Pretty high.
I told you everything at the time.
I definitely recall that.
You blagged like a villain.
Mr. Frost, that's a cliche.
You remember what I said.
There was a drugs bust,
I dropped the licence on the floor.
That's what I said last time, isn't it?
Tell me something Darren,
if there hadn't been a drugs bust,
how would you have got rid of that driver's licence?
I mean you must have known someone who'd take it,
someone who'd move it on.
Come on, you can tell me, can't you?
Come on, you want Mr. Blair to be proud of you.
All right, all right, look.
There's that arty club up on Felix Street.
The Cave Club.
The barman there sells stuff like that
right over the counter.
Glasgow today is such a fashionable subject,
is it not?
And in contemporary painting it helps to be Scottish,
don't you think?
That's two thousand five hundred,
and the big oil is four.
Excuse me a moment.
Can I help you at all?
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah.
You can tell me about these paintings.
Well,
the first thing I can tell you
is they're not paintings.
Prints.
Etchings in fact.
Are they valuable?
It depends on your standards.
Possibly the lower hundreds.
Is there any way of tracing their, um...
Provenance?
Yeah.
Not easy to say.
Paintings by leading artists are generally catalogued.
Lesser work like this
usually ends up with the smaller collector.
Then they could have been nicked?
In that case wouldn't they be known to the police?
If you do come across anything about them,
would you mind giving us a call?
That's my provenance.
Denton CID.
Goodbye.
Thanks.
Here.
Someone told me something about you.
Said if I needed to change my life,
you could help me out.
How can I help you out?
This person said you might be able to
fit me up with new papers,
driving licence.
That sort of thing.
I think you're fitting me up.
Who said that?
Well, I don't know who it was,
because I talk to a lot of people, you see.
Cause I'm a policeman, from Denton CID.
Got all the papers you want then, haven't you?
I've got some more here.
I'd like you to have a look at.
Have you ever seen this bloke before.
Has he ever been in here.
A while ago.
Never seen him in my life.
All right, hey, just a minute.
I haven't finished yet.
Come here.
So you wouldn't have sold him this driving licence?
About a year ago,
Iook at the name,
Colin Drysdale.
No, I didn't.
Now don't you tell me porkies,
because I know you bought this driving licence
off a young tearaway called Darren Matthews.
Don't tell me that you didn't try to sell it on.
Not to him I didn't.
Right
Mr. Frost!
So you're a free man then?
What?
I'd no idea you came here.
Donald's joining me later.
Care for a cocktail?
Oh, yeah.
I see what you're saying.
Not now, thanks very much.
I've got to dash.
Perhaps another time.
Excuse me?
We're making enquiries about a murder.
Wondered if you knew who he is?
He could have worked here once.
Yeah, course he did.
Casualty porter.
Well, who is he, then?
That's, Les.
Les for Lester?
Lester Bryce-Jones?
Les for Leslie.
Leslie Jackson.
Leslie, Leslie...
Leslie Jackson.
You could be in luck.
Listen, I've had a thought.
Maybe the Appendix Man was gay.
Leslie Jackson was.
Who?
Lester Bryce-Jones was also Leslie Jackson.
Let's see.
Leslie Peter Jackson,
born 1960 Perth.
Check him out with Scottish police.
Not a lot of use, George.
This is Perth, Western Australia.
Australian police then.
There's an address here,
Infirmary Road.
Before he moved to Riverside Apartments.
But I'm going to get PC Martins to check it out.
Good.
He went to the Captain Cook High School, Perth.
And then medical orderly
at the Les Patterson General Hospital.
Don't tell me.
He then went on
to the Edna Everage State University?
No he didn't.
What?
Come on,
Les Patterson's a character invented by an actor, Barry Humphreys...
Oh... sod.
He's made all this stuff up?
I'm afraid so, love, yes.
He's probably not even Leslie Jackson.
No, I wouldn't have thought so.
Hazel, come on,
don't worry about it.
Happens to us all.
I tell you what,
I'd like you to show me these Riverside Apartments.
Come on, let's go.
Thanks George.
All right.
Body was over here, guv.
Oh yes?
The Appendix Man's fingerprints
were on a whiskey glass on this table.
Ah, I tell you what.
You could make us both a cup of coffee.
Guv, I thought you'd come to see a crime scene.
Yes, but the golden rule at a crime scene
is always check the things
that other people haven't bothered with.
Everything was checked thoroughly.
Was it.
Good.
That means that someone's check
the Saint Martin's School of Art?
They should have done
because this book was borrowed four years ago
Mr. Mullet's going to have one hell of a fine
if someone doesn't return it soon.
And while you're at it,
see if you can find out the name of the borrower.
See if he did an art course there in '94,
also see if his name
could possibly have been Lionel Jacques.
All right.
Now then, tell me something?
These paintings, any good are they.
I'm a Stag at Bay man myself.
It seems it's collector's stuff.
It's worth a few thousand.
Really?
Well, not bad for a hospital porter then, is it?
I suppose you've checked with the Art Squad, have you?
Haven't come up with anything.
Oh, yeah.
Now is anything missing?
Because if it is murder it helps to have a motive.
Could be something missing.
How would we know?
Ah, yes well there's the rub.
I tell you what, if it is murder how did the killer get in,
because you said that the front door was locked?
Yes, but the veranda doors were open.
Oh, were they?
Oh, look it's a cat flap.
Come on puss, come in.
There you go.
Hey I thought you were making us two a cup of coffee?
Forget what you take, guv.
One lump or two.
Two.
(Talking)
What do you think about all these other keys then, pussy?
What do you think about all of them?
They've been checked too.
The Yales fit the apartment.
Yeah.
But these don't, do they?
No, guv.
No.
Do you know what I think?
I think if you can't find any of his paperwork,
or his passport,
anything like that,
that may mean
that he's got a place somewhere else, you know.
It's all right, dear, it's all right.
It's all been cleared up.
Okay.
Now then, you came in with the key.
So what did you see?
Just take me through it.
You were looking for the cat, yes?
Yes.
Actually I liked it when he's away.
Feeding the cat gave me something to do.
Just tell me,
what did you see
before you found poor Mr. Bryce-Jones?
I saw pills on the table.
Some on the floor.
Then the cat was yowling and then I saw...
Yes, yes, of course.
Just think back Leonie.
When you first came in.
Was anything missing?
The picture, you mean.
Yes, most probably.
So, go on.
When I came home from school the door was open.
There was a painting on the easel there.
Then when I came for Shangri it had gone.
(Phone ringing)
Do you know much about painting, Leonie?
Not a lot.
But I think it was a Hockney.
A Hockney?
Are you sure?
Well, it had to be, didn't it?
It had a swimming pool in it.
Right, thanks.
Just stay where you are, we'll be right over.
Guv.
That address in Infirmary Road.
Someone's been using it.
A man in a hospital coat.
Really?
Thank you.
Thank you very much, Leonie.
The neighbors say he comes quite often.
You know, picks up mail and stuff.
All right.
Aha.
Look at this, guv.
What?
Addressed to Mr. Leslie Jackson.
Right.
Call for backup.
I want this whole place searched.
Alpha bravo 16 to Control?
Hazel!
Oh, thank you.
Mr. Frost,
you might have said.
You're not one, are you?
Not one what?
Not a policeman.
The barman at the Cave Club told me...
Yes, only in the afternoons.
And you shouldn't listen to gossip, should you.
And you always seemed so nice.
Yeah, well.
Yeah, talking about that Cave Club.
Is it a good place to meet people, is it?
I should hope so,
that's what it's for.
Did you ever see him there?
No.
I've never seen him before in my life.
Is he a friend of yours?
No not really.
I never knew him when he was alive.
Now no-one seems to know him now that he's dead.
Oh dear, is he?
Found drowned in a river about a year ago.
What about this one?
Have you ever seen him there?
His name's Leslie Jackson.
Now him I'm not sure.
I think I just might have.
I'll go and ask Donald, all right?
Yes, please do, Brian.
Yes?
Sorry, Mr. Frost.
Donald says nice man but definitely no.
Oh, right.
Thank you for trying Brian.
Could I have another pot of tea?
Of course you can, Inspector.
Morning, Jack.
Morning Harry.
I've had ten quid's worth on pump number three.
There you go.
Do you want a receipt for that?
Yes please.
And I want one of these,
a Chicken Duchesse
with a light curry sauce on wholemeal.
That's expired, I see.
Here, you couldn't let me have twenty or so
of those blank receipts could you?
You'd be helping me out with a very important case.
Yeah, course I can Jack.
You're a good man.
And the sarnie's on the house.
Oh, cheers.
I've seen his Bank Manager.
Guess how much in his account?
Twenty five thousand.
Maybe I should be a hospital porter.
Maybe.
Anything from St. Martin's School of Art?
Yes.
He was known as Lionel Jacobs there.
Enrolled autumn 1993,
and then quit after Christmas.
He took a course in...
Basket-weaving?
Not at all.
Figure drawing.
Did quite well.
He said he came from Brisbane in Australia.
So that's Perth, now Brisbane.
I bet he came from Sydney.
Unless it was Melbourne.
What about Adelaide?
Anyone seen Jack Frost?
No.
Only Mr. Mullett's getting a bit rattled.
He wants things tidying up quick.
What's the news?
Well, he's got another interview on Wednesday.
So, fingers crossed.
Ok, thanks very much.
Art squad.
They need a detailed description
on those paintings.
But they do say there was a Hockney
among the pictures stolen from Black Farm.
Pity Jack's lost the file, isn't it?
Yeah, that's nice.
I feel better already.
That's because I'm giving you deep healing
along with the massage.
Got many clients, have you?
A lot of corporate ones, yes.
I've heard it changes people's lives.
We've helped a lot of people discover themselves.
Trouble with me is I'm always so busy.
There.
Well, if you can't find a window,
I can always give you a twenty minute massage
at your desk.
Assuming you've got a quiet desk.
Would you like me to take your business number?
Yes.
Yeah, I would.
That's a very good idea.
There it is.
Oh no.
Not here too.
Morning, Gaynor.
Just go through and undress,
I'll be with you in a minute.
I am busy, as you can see.
Yes, nice work if you can get it.
I assume this is about the man across the hall?
Lester Bryce-Jones.
Yes, if that was his real name.
He seems to be using quite a lot of names recently.
Did he?
I wouldn't know.
I knew very little about him.
That'll be fifteen pounds please.
Yes.
All right.
Your daughter, Leonie has been very helpful.
Yes I know.
She's also very upset.
Isn't it time you left her alone?
She's a very clever girl.
Does she know a lot about modern art?
About art?
Not much, she's only fifteen.
So you would say that she wouldn't know
the difference between a hockeystick and a Hockney?
A Hockney?
She reckons that she saw a Hockney painting
in Lester Bryce's flat that afternoon.
Did she?
Only it isn't there now.
Yes, well, I'd say that's about as likely
as seeing the Royal Yacht Britannia
in the Denton River, wouldn't you?
Leonie is smart,
but I wouldn't trust her with your investments.
Now, can you see your own way out?
Ah, Frost.
Ah, sir.
Very glad to hear you've got another interview.
I want you in my office immediately.
I'm just on my way...
Whatever it is, it can wait.
The Black Farm murder can't.
I've got the press all over me.
Now, have you found that file?
I'm still looking for it.
And I want your time sheets.
And your petrol expenses.
And your report on the Riverside Murder.
And what's all this about The Appendix Man?
Good morning, sir.
Good morning.
Just bringing your coffee.
Yes, sir.
Shall I take it upstairs?
Yes, please do yes, thank you Sergeant Brady.
Well?
I tell you Jack,
no way those prints are wrong.
Crossed checked in the old faithful.
Yes, but, hang on.
Not all of those prints are ours, are they?
The Appendix Man's came from the Pathology lab.
Because that's where they took him
when he came out of the river.
You know Jack, it would help a lot
if you didn't lose all your files.
Yeah.
I don't know though.
Here, have a sandwich.
Thanks for the tea.
Morning, doc.
Remember me?
All too well.
I thought you'd retired from the force.
Suddenly life seemed far more pleasant.
Oh, just for once this isn't one of yours.
Really?
Who are you doing it for, a friend?
Knife?
What is it, Inspector?
Ah, do you remember the Appendix Man?
How could I ever forget him?
Never identified him, did you?
Which is why he slept in the morgue for so long.
Well, he's not there now, is he?
No, he's not there now.
He went to an unmarked grave.
You signed the request to the coroner.
Yes, I know.
And now I've got to dig him up.
I beg your pardon?
We're reopening the case.
There never was a case.
The man had every right to leave hospital
if he wanted to,
however foolish he might have been.
As for his death,
he drowned himself, didn't he?
I would if I was in that kind of pain.
The truth is doc,
it's all rather embarrassing.
But they've gone
and lost your original pathology report.
So I thought I'd just pop in here
and see if you've got a copy in your files.
Diana.
Will you see what you can do for this impossible man?
Thank you.
DC Jordan?
Joanna Kenwothy at Ansty Galleries.
I thought you might be interested.
Someone's just offered us a painting
we feel very doubtful about.
No a woman.
We're awfully busy at the moment,
but if you wanted to stop by sometime.
There.
Everything you need?
All right.
Thank you.
There is just one thing.
Could you explain to me exactly what you do
when you perform a post mortem.
I'm sure Dr. Simpkins would be delighted to show you.
Do come through.
No no, sorry I didn't mean that.
I meant how do you actually make out the report?
It's perfectly simple.
The doctor does the examination.
I make a detailed record.
I do a dental report.
Take fingerprints.
Report on vital organs, cause of death.
Ah, you take fingerprints.
I wonder, would you mind taking mine?
What?
No, you see I'm trying to understand the process.
Trying to see if anything could go wrong.
Nothing could go wrong.
Well?
Very well.
Thank you.
You have very warm hands.
Do you live alone?
No.
Only child?
I have a brother.
Brother.
I always wanted a brother.
Except my dad took one look at me
and thought my mother had suffered enough.
Yes.
Nearly finished.
All right.
I see, thank you.
Now then, so what you do is you fill out this report,
put it in a file like that,
Thank you.
And you send it over to us.
Is that how it works?
Yes, one here, one to you.
I'm not sure I understand you.
You're saying you lost the file we sent you?
Isn't it kept in police records?
Well, if it arrived at my office
it could have ended up anywhere.
Well, then I don't think you should take ours.
Oh, all right.
Well, just make a copy of that will you
and send it over to my office.
Really, Mr. Frost.
Thank you.
What do I do with these?
Oh, I'd put them on file.
You never know, save you a job,
in case I end up on one of your slabs.
Jack!
Been looking for you everywhere.
I want a talk about the Black Farm Murder.
Come on Sandy,
you're talking about eight years ago.
I'm talking now.
I warn you, Jack,
you've got a real scandal on your hands.
Our feisty local MP's
off to see the Home Secretary.
Sandy.
Ferdie Giggs is a small time crook with a big time mouth
who can say anything because he's living in Spain.
Ferdie would admit to the Slaughter of the Innocents
if it meant he could get a big fat check
out of one of you lot.
He says Mrs. Dale hired him
to kill her husband for the insurance.
The Black Farm murder was an art theft that went wrong.
Ferdie Giggs wasn't even there the night
that Jonathan Dale was murdered.
He was there for the funeral though, wasn't he?
Newspaper files, Jack.
That's Ferdie Giggs, isn't it?
And that's Mrs Dale?
Yes, yes, yes, all right.
You kept this file on the case?
Course.
That's how newspapers function.
You couldn't let me have a copy of that file could you.
Over at my office, as soon as possible?
Paper co-operates with re-investigation?
Or have you just lost your records?
My office as soon as possible.
Thank you, Sandy.
Possibly in her early forties.
Quite intelligent and educated.
Sunglasses, wearing a big overcoat.
And what was the painting?
I recognized it at once.
It was a Hockney.
One of the California swimming pool series.
No doubt you asked about its provenance.
Yes.
That was when she said she didn't want to sell it
and walked out.
Hockney?
Wouldn't that be really valuable?
Yes, of course, a small fortune.
Mrs. Dale?
Detective Inspector Frost,
Denton CID.
We met about eight years ago.
Yes, I remember.
When Jonathan was murdered.
I have been expecting you.
Ever since I read that story about Ferdie Giggs.
Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about.
I'm sorry, but I do have to ask you this.
Ferdie Giggs maintains that you asked him
to do the killings so that you could collect
the insurance money on the paintings.
There wasn't any insurance on the paintings.
Jonathan never bothered.
Take a look.
It's not worth a killing for, is it?
No.
Ferdie was a dealer.
He sold Jonathan a few paintings.
And so Ferdie tipped off his friends
that there was something worth taking at the house.
but he wasn't there that night?
No.
We'd been away for the weekend.
The weather turned bad
an Jonathan was worried about his beasts.
We came home on the Saturday night
and there in the house...
Were two men, right?
One was Branson.
Who was the other?
Well, we never found out, did we?
No, because he was wearing a balaclava over his face.
But it couldn't have been Ferdie Giggs,
he was too tall.
Exactly.
So what about your husband's paintings?
One of them was quite valuable, was it?
You mean the David Hockney.
Yes.
Yes, his brother gave it to him.
He said he'd been given it by Hockney himself.
Jonathan never insured that either.
It went in the robbery, and that was that.
Did you know it was offered for sale yesterday.
At the Ansty Gallery.
You've found it then?
No.
It was offered for sale by a woman.
Oh, and you thought it was me.
It wasn't.
No, well I did wonder,
but I don't believe it was you.
Did you know a man called Leslie Jackson, an Australian?
No, I didn't.
Should I have done?
No, it was just a thought.
Well, thank you very much Mrs. Dale.
Does this mean I might get the paintings back?
I don't know.
I'm sorry.
I honestly don't know.
Something for me?
Yeah.
Miss Grey brought this over from the path lab,
said you've to be more careful with it this time.
Oh, thank you.
Oh, and this stuff just came over
from the Denton Evening Echo,
and Jack?
Yes?
Mullett wants to see you.
And he won't take no for an answer.
Good, cos I can't wait to see him.
I will.
Yes, I will dear.
Yes, dear.
Well?
I thought you wanted to see me, sir.
You know I do, yes.
Now I'm being interviewed
for the post of Assistant Chief Constable on Wednesday.
And very good luck to you, sir.
No doubt some people in this station
would be pleased to see the back of me.
Oh, no.
In which case I'd appreciate a good deal more co-operation.
Everything in this station's fine
except for three outstanding problems
every one to do with you.
You're not referring to my petrol expenses,
are you, sir?
Thank you very much,
but that's not what I meant, no.
What about the Black Farm Murder?
Yes, here's the file.
Sorry it took so long.
They're just newspaper cuttings.
Yes.
But we've nearly settled the case.
Ferdie Giggs was lying.
He was only after a Fleet Street handout.
He never was at the scene of the crime.
We've also managed to trace
a number of the Black Farm paintings.
Trouble is, they were in the hands of Lester Bryce-Jones.
The victim at the Riverside Apartments.
But, he does seem to be linked with the Appendix Man,
so, one investigation leads to another.
We should have this all cleared up in,
well you know, no time at all.
By Wednesday?
Wednesday?
Yes, probably Wednesday, yes.
Well, that's excellent.
Good.
Thank you, sir.
Oh, there is one small thing
that you could help me with.
I need an exhumation order.
Who for?
Well, I don't know his name.
He's the Appendix Man.
If you don't know his name,
how do you know you need an exhumation?
Well, I will know his name
when I've taken his fingerprints.
I thought he'd been dead a year.
Yes he has, but he's been in the freezer in the morgue
until a couple of weeks ago,
so that should present no problem.
You do realize
you're putting me under the most absurd pressure?
Yes, I know sir.
If you could do it before Wednesday.
It means that we could close all three cases at once.
You know, just before your interview.
You know, this job
would mean a great deal to Elsbeth, my wife.
It means a great deal to everyone, sir.
I just hope you get a result, that's all.
I really had to twist Coroner's arm.
Yes, I'm very grateful, sir.
Did you pass on those petrol receipts?
Yes, I did.
Why?
No reason.
I just wondered if County was pleased, that's all.
Will this take long?
No.
Not long, sir.
Yes, all right, Ernie, come on get on with it.
Oh, right.
Now listen carefully.
This is the fingerprint of the Appendix Man
taken from our records.
And this is the fingerprint
taken from the glass
from Riverside Apartments.
They are the same.
And this is the fingerprint
taken off the Appendix Man's dead body this morning.
Different.
So whose are these others then?
Well it's not so much as who,
as to why and how.
How did a stray set of prints get into our system?
Someone wanted to disappear?
Maybe someone wanted him to disappear.
Someone didn't want us
to find out who he was.
Maybe he's got form.
Could you check him out?
Yeah, yeah, sure give me an hour or so.
It still won't tell us who did the switch.
Could someone hack into our system?
Only someone on the inside.
It's not a very nice thought, is it?
No, it isn't.
By the way.
Could you get a set of prints off that file for me?
Yeah.
What is the matter with you?
Oh, I don't know.
My stomach's giving me gip this morning.
Must have been something I ate.
Really?
All right?
Did the dead man speak then?
Yes he did.
He said tell that idle sod Jordan
to get down to the art gallery
and find out who really did offer
that Hockney for sale.
Yes, guv.
Thank you.
Guv, we've a proper ident on Lester Bryce Jones,
alias Leslie Jackson.
What?
He was Leonard Jefford from Adelaide, Aus..
How many more names is he going to have?
South Australian police had him on file.
Oh, well, he'd got form then?
Minor stuff.
He was part of the gay scene.
He was known around as a bit of an actor and painter.
Worked as a waiter and a deckhand,
and then in 1993,
he decided to come to the Big Smoke
and seek his fame and fortune.
And the poor sod ended up
as a porter in Denton General.
Don't knock it, George.
He had twenty five grand in the bank
and a Hockney in the cupboard.
Problem is, how did he get it there from Black Farm?
Well, come on keep thinking.
Thank you.
All right, there you go.
Get those Black Farm files I sent you?
Yes thank you, Sandy.
Hornrimmed Harry was very grateful.
Cheers.
What about you?
Change your mind about Ferdie Giggs?
I will never change my mind about Ferdie Giggs.
He tells porkies.
He always did and he always will.
He said he did it
so that Mrs. Dale could claim the insurance money.
Only problem is, the pictures were never insured.
Mrs. Dale got nothing.
Are you sure?
Course I am.
So who did kill Jonathan Dale?
Branson.
The man I put away.
There were two men, Jack.
You never found the other.
The one that got the pictures.
Well it wasn't Ferdie.
We've got the pictures back, well most of them anyway.
Oh, great.
Who then, if it wasn't Ferdie?
If you're very good, Sandy,
you'll be the first to know.
Good afternoon.
Ah, Jack!
Yes, that's me.
The Appendix Man.
Oh, yeah, what about him?
No ident on file.
But I got another match for you though.
You'll never guess where from.
Black Farm murder.
How could you know that?
Because I asked myself a question, Ernie.
How could a painting that went missing eight years ago
end up in the apartment of a hospital porter.
The only answer I could come up with
was the Appendix Man.
Just a minute.
You know those other prints, the stray ones.
I got a match on them too.
Off the cover of that pathology file.
The one marked Dead Male One.
Aah.
Inspector Frost!
Sorry if I startled you, Miss Grey.
Just thought I'd drop by
and thank you for letting me have that file.
Well, don't lose it this time.
No I won't.
Unfortunately I seem to have made another mistake.
Really?
Yes.
You see one of our rules is
that anyone who is at the scene of a crime
must have their fingerprints on file.
It's for elimination purposes, you understand,
but unfortunately we don't seem to have yours.
Mine?
Yes.
So I was wondering if you wouldn't mind
just popping down to the station.
You know, you've seen mine,
I'd like to see yours.
Is that really necessary?
Well, yes, I'm afraid it is.
You see we've found a set of unidentified fingerprints
on a drinking glass
at Riverside Apartments.
And I was just wondering if they could be yours.
Oh, yes,
I did pick up a glass.
Ah, well, that would be it then, wouldn't it?
But unfortunately those prints are exactly the same
as the Appendix Man's.
I don't see how that's possible.
A mix-up in your lab?
If there was a mix up, I apologize, of course.
But isn't it more likely
the mix-up was in your office?
Oh, yes.
It's very possible.
But you did know him didn't you Miss Gray?
Who did I know?
The Appendix Man.
What was his name?
Ian Pri...
Ian Priest.
Thank you.
I know you felt sorry for him once.
You shouldn't have.
He wasn't a nice man.
He was a thief and a blackmailer.
I'm surprised that you knew him then, Miss Grey.
He knew my brother.
David's a solicitor.
And a homosexual.
As was Ian Priest.
He made a habit of stealing from his boyfriends.
Not just small things,
paintings, antiques.
If they complained,
he threatened them with blackmail.
In the end he'd taken everything from David.
And then Priest,
the Appendix Man ended up here?
I substituted my fingerprints for his.
I knew if you identified Ian Priest,
the whole story would come out
and David would be ruined.
I didn't know what to do.
I didn't think it would matter.
He was dead anyway.
I wasn't hurting anyone.
And then you left your fingerprints
at Riverside Apartments.
I must ask you this,
were you involved in any way
in Ian Priest's death?
Of course not.
His death was accidental drowning.
Yeah, well, I'm not so sure about that.
Well, I don't know.
But I had no part in it.
And Lester Bryce-Jones,
did you recognize him?
No, I didn't.
Thank you, Miss Grey.
What's going to happen now?
Are you going to charge me?
Oh yes.
Go on get your coat.
Well, well.
Bit of a mess, isn't it?
Yes it's all the stuff from his hideaway
in Infirmary Road.
There's his passport,
He arrived in 1993.
He wasn't even in the country
at the time of the Black Farm Murder.
You surprise me.
And a photograph.
Isn't that the Appendix Man?
Yes.
Yes it is.
And did you know his name was Ian Priest.
So, so he knew Leslie Jackson
before he went into hospital.
Of course.
It all fits.
What does?
Ian Priest knows that he's very ill
and he's got to go into hospital.
And he's worried in case
the authorities find out who he is
and links him with the Black Farm murder.
So, what does he do?
Empties his pockets and goes in
with a stolen drivers' licence.
So there he is,
Iying on the hospital bed,
with a burst appendix
when who comes rattling down the ward
with his bedpans but Leslie Jackson.
He killed him?
No, no, no.
No, no, I reckon he tries to help him.
Says he'll get him out of the hospital.
Find him a private doctor.
But of course,
once Priest leaves the hospital,
he's finished.
He's too far gone.
Leslie Jackson finds out about that,
and there's only one way to keep it quiet.
Come on, man!
Don't die on me now!
Jesus!
But you don't know that?
I know that I don't know that.
I can guess it though.
And then a year later someone kills Lester Bryce-Jones
and one thing leads to another?
Yes, I hope so.
Who then?
That's what we've got to find out.
Debbie?
I'll just be a moment.
I'm sorry, I can't...
Not you again?
Mmm, I was just having a look at my astral chart.
Trouble is I can't remember what my star sign is.
Look, I've got a client.
That's all right, go ahead, don't mind me.
I only came in looking for a painting.
Pamela, would you?
What painting?
A painting of a swimming pool by David Hockney.
And what makes you think it's here?
Because you tried to sell it two days ago,
at the Ansty Galleries.
The attendant identified you.
Do you want to know how?
By your tattoo.
Well Mrs. Viner.
Do you want me to get a search warrant?
Or will you just show me where it is?
That painting we found in your shop, Mrs. Viner,
it was stolen.
In a robbery about eight years ago.
That's nothing to do with me.
I didn't know.
That's a pity.
You should always ask about provenance.
Did you know that Leslie dealt in stolen paintings.
No.
Look, that day he came home with the Hockney.
He wanted someone to help him sell it.
Oh, really?
And what time was this?
It was in the morning.
I saw him in the hall.
He asked you to help him sell the painting?
What sort of help?
Oh, did I know any galleries?
Collectors who might come to my studio?
And he gave it to you, did he?
He just gave it you, just like that?
Yes, he did.
No, he didn't!
Because your daughter Leonie said
that she saw the painting in his apartment
at 4:30 when she came home from school.
You left and came back again, didn't you?
Why would I?
Because you realized Leslie had something worth a small fortune
and you wanted your share.
Only what you didn't know was
that he couldn't get rid of that painting
because it was hot stuff.
It came from a murder scene.
I didn't go back.
You had a key to the door.
You had the opportunity, the motive and the will.
Do you know what I think?
I think that you and Lester Bryce-Jones
were running a nice little racket.
Clients at your studio could buy paintings
with no questions asked.
And then you and Leslie or Lester
or whatever his ruddy name was
could split the proceeds.
Sorry, no way.
Oh yes.
But this time he wasn't playing ball, was he?
So I think that you went to have it out with him.
When you knocked at the door and go no answer,
you used your key to let yourself in.
And when you went in
you found Leslie up to some deviant trick,
probably high on painkillers
but certainly not in a position to argue.
I don't believe this.
And then you tightened the belt around his neck,
just to make sure.
Then you opened the doors to the patio
so it looked as though someone came in that way.
You returned the key to your apartment
then you took the painting to your studio.
Mrs. Viner, I believe that you are responsible
for the murder of Leslie Jackson,
alias Lester Bryce-Jones.
No, it wasn't like that.
He was unconscious.
(Knock on door)
Yes?
DC Jordan has entered the room
with a note for DI Frost.
So he was dying
and you offered him no assistance?
I took the painting.
I was strapped for money.
The studio earns nothing.
There are Leonie's school fees.
I'd helped him before.
Not that I liked him.
Fact is he made my skin crawl,
but the money was useful.
Except this time he was cutting me out.
And as soon as I saw that picture
I knew what it was.
But it wasn't.
What do you mean?
It was a forgery.
The painting wasn't genuine.
Morning Mullett.
Morning, sir.
A word in your ear.
I'm really sorry, sir.
Yes.
I think everyone will be really sorry.
Yes.
Especially Mrs. Mullett.
Did they give you a reason?
Yes, they gave me a reason.
There was another candidate
that some of the board preferred.
A woman Super from Northumberland,
very strong on management.
Oh, well, you can't blame yourself then.
No, I can't.
I can blame...
Who?
I don't know how you could do it to me, Jack.
You can't blame me, I did everything that you asked.
I cleared up my three cases.
I did my expenses.
Yes, that was what did it.
What?
It seems I foolishly failed
to check your paperwork.
You signed those petrol receipts yourself didn't you?
Forged the signatures.
As someone on the board was very quick to point out.
Yeah, well, I mean, I didn't think that...
No, you didn't, did you?
My resignation.
Just get out of my office, Jack.
Go on, get out!
Brian, are you there?
Mr. Frost.
Ah.
On your way?
Yes, yes, I am.
I'm moving into my new house.
Well, it's my old house actually.
Got to start learning
how to be a domestic animal once again.
You should get yourself a cat.
Well, me, no.
Can't stand them.
Anyway, we shall miss you, Mr. Frost.
Well, I'll miss you too, Brian.
You've been a great support.
And Donald.
Is he here?
I never did get to...
I'll tell you a little secret, Mr. Frost.
There is no Donald.
It's all just me.
Donald left three months ago.
Goodbye, Brian.
Jack.