[instrumental music]
[indistinct shouting]
[indistinct shouting continues]
[Victor]Get on with it.
Come on! You're so slow!
Put your back into it.
Stop panting, you bovine oaf.
I want fresh air, not your stench.
[Dennis] It's hard work.
[Victor] What would you know about hard work?
[grunts]
[breathes deeply]
Do you want me to stay with you?
What? For your scintillating conversation?
Shout when you're done.
If I start shouting, I might never stop.
I might shout out the truth about Toynton Grange!
Then what would happen?
Where would you and Wilfred
and his stupid pilgrimages be then?
[melancholic music]
[waves crashing]
[wheelchair squealing]
[thuds]
[seagulls squawking]
[theme music]
[engine revving]
[music continues]
[knocks on door]
[Dalgliesh] Father Michael?
It's Adam.
[watch ticking]
[exhales]
[instrumental music]
[chuckles]
[Maggie] For God's sake!
A human being.
And a male at that.
Flash car must be yours then.
You looking for Father Michael?
I'm a friend, I...
I'd arranged to come and visit him this weekend, but...
-It seems I'm-- -Two weeks too late.
-Yes, how did he-- -Heart attack.
Yeah, he'd been in hospital with chest pains.
He only just got out. Died the same night.
-Here? -In the armchair.
He was still in his cassock and stole.
It's like he just nodded off.
-Maggie Hewson. -Adam Dalgliesh.
My husband Eric is Medical Officer
at Toynton Grange. Father Michael was chaplain.
Do you work there, too?
Not if I can help it.
Wilfred tries, but I'm impervious to his charms.
Wilfred Anstey. He owns the place.
I mean, he thinks he's Francis of Assisi.
I guess that makes me the heretic.
Did Michael mention if anything was troubling him recently?
-Hmm, not to me. -Who saw him last?
Grace, I think. One of the residents.
Yeah, for a confession.
I mean, she probably bored him to death.
Sorry, that was...bad taste.
Michael didn't tell me much about the Grange.
Just that it was a small care home.
It's ridiculously small now.
We're down to four residents, local authorities haven't placed
anyone here since Victor Holroyd died.
He was a resident.
He could be wicked, but he made me laugh.
You know, until he wheeled himself off Toynton Head cliffs.
-Two months ago. -I'm sorry.
Everyone's busy pretending it was an accident.
Either way, it doesn't look good if you have a duty of care.
No.
Well, we're just up the drive.
Big ugly house.
You can't miss it, if you need anything.
-Thank you. -And sorry.
About Michael.
[instrumental music]
[Fr. Michael]My dear Adam
I was so saddened to hear of your loss.
It would, of course, be wonderful to see you again.
But only if you felt able.
[Fr. Michael] I'm hoping you might be able to help me
with a disturbing situation
here at the Grange.
You are, as ever, in my prayers.
[birds chirping]
[doorbell rings]
[thudding]
-Wilfred Anstey. -Adam Dalgliesh.
How can I help you, Adam?
I'm a friend of Fr. Michael's, I'd arranged to stay with him
this weekend at Hope Cottage.
I'm afraid I have some sad news.
I heard. Maggie Hewson came to the cottage.
I hope she offered our condolences.
Michael was a valued member of our community here.
It must be a shock.
It was to us.
I-I didn't know he'd been in hospital.
I tried to get him to stay in the house
while he recuperated.
But he insisted on returning to the cottage.
Dr. Hewson checked on him down there that afternoon.
Did anyone else see him after that?
Grace Willison.
One of our residents visited him in the evening.
Helen, our nurse, was due to pop in later
but unfortunately, it seems there was some kind of mix-up.
So he died alone?
As, at the last, do we all.
Like Victor Holroyd.
[chuckles]
So, Maggie was as discreet as ever.
Michael wrote to me.
He said there was something worrying him.
Do you have any idea what that might've been?
Michael was a very private person.
He kept his own counsel.
He never mentioned you, for instance.
Not once.
In all the time he was here.
It's a shame you travelled all this way.
I hope you have a safe journey.
I don't think I'm ready to head home just yet.
I'd planned to spend the weekend in the cottage.
I'd like to do that.
Get a sense of Fr. Michael's time here.
Would that be alright?
Of course.
We'd be glad.
And I hope you can find some solace here.
[fire crackling]
[instrumental music]
[knock on the door]
[Helen] Mr. Dalgliesh, I'm Helen.
Wilfred asked me to bring these.
That's thoughtful. Thank you.
What was the mix-up...
the night Father Michael died?
Were you supposed to check on him after Grace left?
Well, Eric asked me to.
I suggested he ask Maggie or Dennis.
I was busy with the residents. It's a lot of work.
-What happened? -Well, Maggie refused.
And Eric couldn't find Dennis.
He assumed that I'd go as asked.
I assumed he'd got one of the others to do it.
Fr. Michael's insistence on being in the cottage.
Did you get a sense he was expecting a visitor
other than Grace?
I don't remember him ever having a visitor
apart from us.
Until you.
Goodnight then.
[eerie music]
[chickens clucking]
Wilfred thinks it's important we feel useful.
Gives a sense of purpose.
[Grace] I sometimes wonder
if the chickens understand their purpose.
First, we take their eggs and when they're past laying
we wring their necks and consign them to the pot.
I hope you don't have to do the wringing.
-Hmm! -Have you been here long?
Four years. It's not so bad really.
It's nice to be near the sea.
Although it seems always just out of sight.
Victor managed to get close enough to see it.
Mr. Holroyd had a need to get away by himself.
He was quite forceful.
He used to bully poor Dennis into wheeling him up there.
I thought you wanted to talk about Fr. Michael?
If you don't mind. You were the last to see him.
-For confession. -Did he seem out of sorts?
-Troubled? -A little frail maybe.
I think he must've died just after you left.
Why would you say that?
Mrs. Hewson says he was still wearing his stole
when she found him.
Wouldn't he normally have taken it off
soon after hearing confession?
He did take it off.
When we finished, he took it off
folded it and put it on the table.
like he always did.
[Dalgliesh] Is it possible someone else visited Michael
after you left?
Not for confession.
Not from the Grange.
I'm on breakfast duty tomorrow.
I can use these.
-It's so nice-- -I'm sorry!
But you-you just can't go on thinking that--
Mr. Dalgliesh, you found Grace.
Um, I'd better take these through to the kitchen.
-They'll be starting on lunch. -You should join us.
Julius, why don't you show Adam around?
-Do you work here? -Oh, no, no.
Wilfred's an old friend from school.
I have a cottage here, and I help
with the accounts sometimes.
[Julius] Watch your step. It's like a warren down here.
[Dalgliesh] You live on the estate?
I come down when I can, but I have a place in London.
What do you do in London?
I have a few investments. I get by managing those.
Workshop and craft room.
Henry is one of the residents. This is Adam Dalgliesh.
-A friend of Fr. Michael's. -Oh, um...
I'm sorry for your loss.
This is the Grange family cottage industry.
Mail order hand cream and bath salts.
It's just lanolin, almond oil and glycerine.
But put in a little jar with a fancy label.
Wilfred. It's a good likeness.
-Henry did that. -A long time ago.
And this is Dennis.
Pleased to meet you.
[Julius] Dennis looks after the residents
the building and all of the equipment.
That's a lot of responsibility.
Oh, it's better to be busy.
Devil finds work for idle hands?
No, I-I mean, it's just...
[Julius chuckles]
[Julius] Dennis is not great with strangers.
Wasn't he with Victor Holroyd when he died?
Oh, you heard about that?
Not with him exactly.
Victor asked to be left alone apparently.
So Dennis came back down the path.
Terrible business.
I was in London, but Wilfred tells me
that Dennis was absolutely distraught.
[instrumental music]
And this is the centre of the whole operation.
Adam Dalgliesh. This is Helen Rainer.
-Our nurse. -Hello again.
-Hello. -And you already know Grace.
Grace does a newsletter. For Friends of the Grange.
It goes out every month. Mainly around England.
But we have two subscribers in America
and one in the south of France.
It's just bits of news and a nudge
to buy our mail order products.
-Are there many "Friends?" -Sixty-eight.
I've typed the labels so often I know them all by heart.
-Seriously? -I can do it from memory.
I imagine what the people are like
just from their names, and the names they give their houses.
[Dalgliesh]Lourdes?
Yes, our pilgrimage.
We leave on Wednesday.
It's therapeutic. We go twice a year.
-Biennial. -Biannual.
[Grace]We used to hire a van, but last year
there was an accident on the way home.
Two of the wheelchairs were broken.
So, Julius decided it would be safer
if he bought us our own adapted bus.
Well, I couldn't let you all climb
into another rented death-trap after that, could I?
[Grace]Hmm.
Lourdes? Is that Wilfred's idea?
A few years ago, he became ill.
Uh, he could barely walk.
Ended up in hospital. St. Saviour's.
They couldn't help him, so he went to Lourdes,
bathe at the Grotto.
And he came back fit and healthy.
That's why he created this place.
Why he goes back there.
-That's a remarkable story. -He was sick. Now he's well.
That's all that matters to me.
[gong chimes]
The luncheon gong.
That's my cue to leave you.
[instrumental music]
-Eric Hewson. -Maggie's husband.
Doctor Hewson. Medical Officer.
Adam Dalgliesh.
Ursula Hollis.
So, have you met everyone?
Uh, everyone except...
Jennie. Uh, Mr. Dalgliesh.
A friend of Fr. Michael's from London.
Pleasure.
[Eric] So, how did you know Michael?
My father was a Rector at a small parish
in Norfolk. Michael was his Curate when I was a boy.
[Eric] Did you follow into the family business?
No, I'm a Detective Chief Inspector
with the Metropolitan Police.
-That sounds exciting! -It's just a job, Maggie.
[Jennie] Fun job is it, catching murderers.
And getting them hanged.
They don't hang them these days.
What about the ones you caught when you were younger?
-Any of them hang? -Jennie, please. Must we?
[Jennie]I was just curious!
Five of them.
[Jennie]Whoa. Five deaths.
Down to you.
-Doesn't that keep you-- -Jennie.
[eerie music]
[Wilfred] Shall we remember the rule?
[whispering] No talking at meal times.
[Wilfred] My body is my prison
and I would be so obedient to the Law
as not to break prison.
[all] Benedictus Deus.
[Wilfred] I will not hasten my death
by starving or macerating this body.
[all] Benedictus Deus.
[seagull squawking]
[waves crashing]
[gates squeaking]
[instrumental music]
[music continues]
[Wilfred] I'm sorry. I didn't realise.
[Dalgliesh] I came out for a walk and saw this place.
It's an unusual building.
The Black Tower.
It was originally built in the 1600s
restored by my great grandfather.
He invented his own religion based on the Book of Revelation.
Apocalypse and judgement?
He read it more as a road map to the final victory.
-Over what? -Death.
In 1887, he walled himself up in here
to await the Second Coming.
It was three months before they found him.
He'd torn his fingers to the bone
trying to claw his way out.
It's what we all do, I think.
Wrestle with mortality.
Is that why you set up the Grange?
I faced something and been saved.
I wanted that to have some meaning.
And not just for me, I wanted--
-Witnesses? -Yes.
If you like.
And you still use the Tower.
For meditation.
Private prayer.
Fr. Michael used it, too.
Must've been an interesting contrast. The two of you.
We crossed swords sometimes.
I found our differences stimulating.
Two deaths in as many months.
[breathes deeply]
It must be a difficult time for you.
I've had my share of challenges.
I'm still here.
But I keep the door here unlocked
so I won't ever have to claw my way out.
Enjoy the rest of your walk.
[sighs]
[seagull squawking]
What a nice surprise!
[Dalgliesh] I wanted to ask you about something.
It's a little delicate.
I found something in Fr. Michael's writing bureau.
Something curious.
A poison pen letter.
Did he mention it to you?
Do you know if anyone else in the Grange
received anything similar?
A week or so before Victor died...
It was obscene.
I tore it into pieces and flushed it down the lavatory.
Do you know if anyone else had one?
No. I thought it was just me.
Did you tell the police?
I'm sorry. I couldn't have shown that thing to anyone.
I understand.
The worst thing was, I could tell
it had been typed on this typewriter.
[eerie music]
[Ursula] Detective Chief Inspector.
Have you come to arrest me?
I'm off duty.
I haven't been busted since my West End days.
We're a long way from the West End.
[Ursula] I don't know. You've seen Wilfred.
What a performance that is.
You don't look like you're ever off duty.
You married?
-Yes. -Me, too.
Still am, I think.
Where's your husband?
At home. On the fourth floor.
[Dalgliesh] I see. What made you choose here?
People think when you're going soft in the legs
you've gone soft in the head, too.
Start making decisions for you.
And you feel comfortable, safe here?
I've been in worse. And it's only temporary.
Until he comes gets me.
I'm sorry about Michael.
Did he seem happy here?
Yeah. I think it kind of suited him.
What about Victor?
-Who've you been talking to? -Maggie told me about him.
Don't believe her. Nobody else liked him.
He enjoyed being cruel. He was good at it.
-With the staff too? -Hated them.
Hated the idea they had any power over him.
He bullied Dennis something rotten.
-Do you think he killed himself? -Yeah, I do.
And I think he did it to cause as much hurt
and upset as possible.
He was probably laughing all the way down.
-I was just going into town. -Perfect.
You've nothing to worry about.
I promise you. Nothing at all.
[instrumental music]
♪ Oh, sing along ♪
♪ Sing along ♪
♪ Sing a song ♪
♪ Sing along ♪
♪ Oh, sing along ♪
♪ Sing along ♪
♪ Sing along ♪♪
Why did you ask me if anything was troubling Fr. Michael?
Something he said when he wrote to me. Why?
Have you remembered something?
A week or two after Victor died
I was on the cliff.
I saw him down on the beach with Dennis, arguing.
Could you hear what it was about?
Too far away.
But I saw Michael grab Dennis' arm.
Dennis pushed him away and Michael fell back on the rocks.
-Then what? -Dennis walked off.
I remember thinking it was funny.
The two most unlikely people in the world, arguing.
You're a star. I'll get a bus back.
See you tomorrow at Julius'?
He's doing one of his dinners. He'll want you to be there.
I'll tell him, 8 o'clock, don't be late!
Not often we get a DCI from the Met down here.
It's quite an honour.
It was meant to be a social visit.
They didn't tell you Baddeley had died?
Only Fr. Michael knew I was coming.
Said he wanted my help with something
that was disturbing him.
I wondered if it might be connected
to Victor Holroyd's death.
I don't see why. It's pretty straightforward.
Topped himself, if you ask me. We passed it on to the coroner.
Is there any evidence that Holroyd was suicidal?
-A note? -No note.
Not much else I can tell you.
But Miskin spoke to his doctor.
He had a hospital appointment in London
the week before he died.
And they confirmed that there was
nothing more they could do for him.
Were you able to examine the wheelchair?
No sign of fault or tampering.
What about Dennis Lerner?
Did you look at him as a suspect?
[Daniel] We, uh...
We may not be the Sweeney, sir, but we know how to do our job.
Witnesses confirmed that it was Holroyd
who insisted that Lerner take him up the cliff that day.
Lerner says that he asked to be left alone
so he went back down the path.
When he looked back to check, Holroyd was gone.
Any possible motive?
Apart from Holroyd being mean to him?
Well, if that were a motive seems they'd all be suspects.
There was a full investigation.
Thank you for your time.
No problem.
Show the Chief Inspector out, will you, Miskin?
[dog barking]
Alright, Sergeant, what was he not telling me?
Sorry, sir?
You were biting your tongue in there.
What did you want to say?
Holroyd's hospital visit was routine.
What they told him was that there was no change
in his prognosis.
It wasn't great, but it wasn't news either.
-He already knew he was dying. -Anything else?
The other residents said he was in good spirits
when he came back. Excited.
Now, it's possible that was about his own suicide.
-But... -Did you raise all this?
I did. But there was no evidence of criminality.
So I was told to close the case.
Do you think there's more here?
I just don't think he killed himself.
He was full of anger and rage but it was all directed outwards
at other people.
How would you feel about doing some more background digging
on the Grange family?
Quietly. No need to involve your DI.
I could do that.
Anything interesting?
Ammonite.
Tw hundred million years old.
Gives a bit of perspective, doesn't it?
Our lives. The blink of an eye.
Is that where Victor fell?
-Did you see him go over? -I was walking away.
When I looked back he was gone.
I don't like to think about it. I still feel guilty.
-Why? -I was responsible for him.
Either you pushed him over the cliff or you didn't.
If you didn't, guilt is just an indulgence.
And if you did, it's dangerous, it's how murderers
give themselves away.
Did you talk to anyone about it?
Fr. Michael?
[plops]
Is that what you were arguing about When you pushed him?
That was about something else.
-What? -I don't remember.
If you can lose your temper with a priest
I can understand how Holroyd could make you snap.
-It wasn't like that. -Was Victor tormenting you?
-Did he know something about-- -Why would you think--
The temptation must've been strong.
The cliff edge right there, one sharp push and--
Stop!
[ominous music]
Look! It must be the Tower!
[gate creaks]
[panting]
[grunting]
[Dennis] Wilfred might be in there!
[Dalgliesh coughing]
[grunting]
[Wilfred coughing]
[intense music]
[coughing]
You could've died.
-You should call the police. -No!
[breathing heavily]
[Miskin] Let's see. Julius Marsh.
Public school. Cambridge.
Civil Service. Minor diplomat.
Left when he inherited some family money.
I'll give you the number of a contact
in the Foreign Office. Might give you more detail.
There's no phone at Hope Cottage so...
Thanks, sir.
I-I checked out his alibi. It's watertight.
He was at his club in London when Victor died.
Residents?
There's nothing. They all have alibis.
Even before you consider the practicalities.
So if we rule out Marsh and the residents
that leaves us with staff.
They're a proper mixed bag.
Helen Rainer worked for the Ridgewell Trust.
Private care business.
They're hoping to take over Toynton Grange.
Her uncle's on the board, and Dr. Hewson
had his licence suspended for a while,
after an affair with a young patient.
He ended up marrying her.
-Maggie. -Mmhmm.
And what's Dennis Lerner's story?
Well, no police record. Good worker. Mild mannered.
But his mum lives in a fancy private nursing home.
Meadowlands. It's expensive.
-And Dennis pays for it. -Does Anstey pay him that well?
No, sir. Also, Meadowlands offered him a job.
More money, near his mum. But Dennis turned it down.
So what's keeping him at Toynton Grange?
Loyalty to Anstey?
Or is he skimming money on the side somehow?
If he is, maybe Victor found out.
Which would give him a motive.
Snapdragon?
Yes.
Fr. Michael gave it to me.
It's my reminder of him.
I found this in the cottage.
Bookplate says it's yours.
[Grace] I lent it to him. I'd forgotten.
Thank you so much.
Hardy's a favourite of mine, from school.
"An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small
in blast-beruffled plume."
The Darkling Thrush.
How is your own writing going?
Fr. Michael told me about his friend the famous poet.
He was so proud.
I haven't been able to write anything lately.
Of course.
He told me about your wife and baby too.
I'm so sorry.
I wish you'd been able to see him again.
Would've meant so much.
[piano music]
Actually it wasn't for the chyteau I moved to this place.
Of course, i-it's the region.
It's quite the collection, isn't it?
I'm just a magpie, really.
Anything that catches my eye.
That is why I hate you, Julius.
-Why's that, darling? -You've travelled.
You have beautiful things. Taste. And money.
-Maggie. -It's fine.
I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.
[Henry] I suppose those are all the benefits
of the Diplomatic Service.
You were a diplomat?
Uh, Junior attache. Very briefly.
I had dreams of an exotic posting.
I was excited. I thought it'd be the Embassy in Paris!
Turned out to be the Consulate in Marseille.
It doesn't sound that bad.
Well, Paris has writers, artists, musicians.
Marseille has sailors, gangsters and drug smugglers!
I realised it wasn't for me.
I wasn't, um, selfless enough to make a career of it.
Now. Shall we eat?
Nice to eat without John Donne in the background.
-You know Wilfred means well. -Does he?
I mean, there's a difference between believing in God
and believing you are God.
[Eric]We should be grateful for the chance he's given us.
The chance to be marooned in the middle of nowhere.
-With a bunch of-- -That's enough.
It's even worse now that Victor's gone.
Not for some of us. Horrible man.
[Maggie] How can you say that!
What about that letter I got?
-What letter? -Poison pen drivel.
Cruel, anonymous, disgusting.
[Maggie]It was his sense of humour. He liked to play games.
Like trying to frame Dennis for murder?
[Maggie]Ach, come on, everyone knows
Dennis doesn't have the guts
to kill a chicken, let alone a human being.
Human being?
-Victor? -Henry!
[Maggie]You don't mean that.
This party needs some music.
[upbeat music]
I don't understand how the Grange survives.
-It can't be profitable. -It isn't.
It's deep in debt, I've been speaking to The Ridgewell Trust
about a deal that would give them control
but preserve Wilfred's ideas.
The trouble is...
I don't know if he's ready to let go.
So, who's going to dance with me?
[Dalgliesh] Maggie.
Maggie, I'm not sure that's...
[Eric] Oh, for God's sake! [Dalgliesh] My fault.
No harm done.
[Eric] It's late anyway.
We should go. No scenes.
If I decide to make a scene the whole world
is gonna know about it.
Not tonight. Please.
Come on.
[Julius] I'll show you out.
[music continues]
[Henry] Bravo to base. In hot pursuit of a few hours' sleep.
-Over and out! -Nice radio technique.
I've watched a lot of Z-Cars.
I'm gonna need a little help.
[instrumental music]
-Not too uncomfortable? -No.
Three, two, one.
Over there in the dresser
there's a box.
"You are a sick and depraved monster."
"You should be castrated."
"You will burn in hell."
There's a photograph too.
That's Peter. He arrived last year.
He was smart, and...
funny...
and kind.
We became close.
Very close.
We tried to be discreet but...
Victor spotted it.
He took great delight in informing Wilfred.
They sent him to a different home
hundreds of miles away.
I finally found out that he died of pneumonia.
I'm sorry.
That's awful.
Yes, but...
normal, for people like us, because...
we just don't matter.
You know, you should think about making an effort
with the Chief Inspector.
He's very sweet.
You don't want to end up a spinster.
-Hey. -Night.
[instrumental music]
[music continues]
[door creaks]
Did you forget something?
[screams]
[grunting]
[clattering]
[struggling]
[instrumental music]