*CREDITS*
Leonard Finch?
If you could follow me.
Just Mr Finch.
It's gonna be fine.
A serious allegation has been made that, on Friday 29 August
at approximately 10:15pm,
you were seen engaging in an act of gross indecency with another man
at the Merries Holiday Camp.
Did you attend Merries dance hall on the evening in question?
You know that I...
Yes.
Did you leave the hall around ten to ten,
- then go back to your own chalet? - I can't quite recall the time.
Did you, in fact, meet a man, then spend the night with him?
I can't... quite recall...
No.
Well, yes.
I-I mean to say, I did meet Mr Davenport. We shared a room.
Twin beds. He came back later.
This is you, correct?
So, who's this fella?
Oh, erm...
I'm not really... Really not sure.
You seem very familiar with him.
Are you a homosexual, Mr Finch?
I have nothing more to say.
You told me I'm not obliged to say anything.
What about Daniel Marlowe? Photographer from your village.
Allegation's it's him you were in bed with.
- So he's bent an' all? - All right.
I have nothing more to say.
We're gonna have to do this the hard way, then.
Thank you, Leonard. That's all for now.
- Leonard. - I'm a fool.
You're no fool.
One who thought for a minute he was in paradise,
when he was really paving the road to hell.
Daniel said, "Don't give them anything," and that's what you did.
I'm going for a cinnamon bun, a hot cocoa
and a stroll on Midsummer Common. In that order.
- We've got an appointment. - No, I don't think so.
Give my best to the Archdeacon,
but his feelings on the matter are very clear.
And I've had all the incandescent disappointment
I can take from Mrs C.
Good morning, Mr Lowell!
Dahlias are looking lovely this year.
- Oh, thank you. - Have you a minute to talk?
Might I give you one of these?
Hey!
Damn you! So much for a fair and democratic competition.
Morning, Reeny. Well, you'd think it was a race to the bottom,
- not to parish council. - It's hard.
Derek's death seems to have galvanised his critics.
Your husband would be proud to see you follow in his footsteps.
Well, it is getting lively, for a village by-election.
I find it rather encouraging to see people throw their energy
into local politics.
And when the competition do it,
you know you've got them on the run!
It's like I always say: capital begets capital and...
Reverend! Come and hear the word!
- And what word is that, Mr St Martin? - Maurice, please.
The word is morality. Your area of expertise, no?
The way I see it, each generation has its great struggle.
And if the last one's was a literal fight for their lives
against a foreign evil, then ours is with the evil in our own hearts,
the everyday morality.
- I couldn't agree more. - And do you think, Vicar,
that morality has its part to play in local government?
I think it has a part to play in every aspect of our lives.
Exactly. The council has a moral duty to help local businesses!
Shouldn't my cousin Phillip have the right to build on his own land,
without waiting months for permission?
Can't Mrs Bedwell be allowed to sell
Christmas trees from her shop?
As a businessman, I know that we thrive on entrepreneurship.
And that is why the next council must cut the red tape
and let loose that great British enterprising spirit!
- That's it for now. Thank you all! - Reverend.
I can understand if you have reservations about me,
our paths having rarely crossed.
But I hope you can see we're cut from the same cloth.
I really must remain impartial.
Of course! But there is the more, er,
delicate matter of our dear departed chairman, Derek McArthur.
You were there, I gather?
When they fished him out of the water.
To commit suicide does make you wonder if he wasn't...
capable of committing other things.
Could be the tip of the iceberg.
Hmm, or idle gossip.
Muck raking for publicity, if I were being harsh.
We need strong leadership, Vicar.
Every flock needs its shepherd.
Come along, Maurice. Busy schedule today, eh?
Good to see you both talking.
Hm.
- Where's Leonard? - Er, he's just in town.
They kept him in?
No, no, he had a prior engagement.
A prior engagement?!
I see Reeny called.
As if I have time to natter away with every Tom,
Dick and Harry that comes calling.
I thought you and Jack liked the McArthurs?
Drumming up support in her mourning clothes.
It's wanton luridness!
It's hardly the dance of the Seven Veils.
And anyone who can win a lovely legs competition
is in no position to judge.
Reeny's certainly a progressive thinker.
Taking a reformist stance.
Liberal views on tolerance.
And look where that gets you.
You're angry because of Leonard.
I'd put more stock in that St Martin chap.
Get us back to proper family values.
I'm pretty sure Maurice's moral compass
points whichever way the wind blows.
Oh, smarten yourself up before the Archdeacon arrives!
Not your first time in here, then, Mr Marlowe.
- No. - Questioned about a dead teenager.
Nudey photos and a poisoning.
And?
On the evening in question, did you join Mr Finch in his chalet?
No.
Did you engage in gross indecency with Mr Finch?
No. That's absurd.
Where were you that evening at quarter past ten?
I went out to the main hall from about seven,
danced with the Inspector's wife,
and I was back in my own chalet by ten.
I slept through to dawn.
- Have you ever seen Mr Finch with another man? - No.
- But I'm only an acquaintance. - Who went on holiday with him.
I went on holiday with my friend Reverend Davenport.
And the Chapmans, who I've known since I photographed their wedding.
Well, we'll be in touch if we have any more questions.
Mm-hm?
You forgot your lunch, love.
- You left in a bit of a hurry. - Thank you.
You had a right face on this morning.
In fact, you still have.
Leonard's gonna be OK, isn't he?
Well, Larry's got the bit between his teeth on this one.
Thinks I'm a soft touch.
Of all the things the police could be doing.
- It's barely a crime! - Except it is, Cathy.
And I have sent men down for it.
We all knew of Mr Finch's...
peculiarities.
But there's knowing what he is...
..and allowing him to act upon it.
I had hoped that you would have guided him away
from such temptations.
Don't we have a duty to save people from living a lie?
This situation has gone too far. And too public.
If these allegations are proved to be true,
then the church cannot defend him.
Whose business is it...?
What do you hope to achieve, William?
You really want to bang this drum, wearing that collar,
and publicly challenge the law of the land?
I understand if you cannot speak up.
- But I am... - You have a role to play here,
in Grantchester.
If you wish to remain part of this ministry,
you will cooperate with the police.
Tell them the truth.
The church is not above the law.
_
How did it go with the Archdeacon?
- Ahh... fine. - Really?
- He's, er... he's concerned. - Am I out?
- I'm out, aren't I? - No!
No, this is all gonna blow over and then everything will be fine.
Was he angry at my absence?
Leonard, it's gonna be OK.
Will, could I have a word, please?
This arrived for Derek today.
It's from a property firm in Hove.
Confirming acceptance on Derek's purchase of some holiday home.
- Well, I don't follow. - Why would he secretly organise this
if he knew he was going to... end his own life?
People in his situation often do contradictory things.
I understand that. But that's not Derek.
I never really believed him capable of what he did.
I had to accept it, but... now this.
This wasn't suicide, Will.
It was murder.
It's an open and shut case:
Derek McArthur drowned himself here a few weeks back.
He left that note on the bank, inside his jacket pocket.
Happily married, chairman of the council,
well respected in the village.
- It just doesn't add up. - Or maybe it does.
Sometimes, it's just a man who ran out of rope.
And another man trying to distract himself from his curate's crimes.
Maybe.
Why didn't you come to me about Leonard?
I thought I had it under control.
- Well, you didn't. - And what would you have done?
- Intimidated Bryan? - Blackmail is an offence, Will.
We could've had this Bryan fella in for that.
Instead, I'm having to grill bloody Leonard!
Whose explanation is wafer thin,
and one wrong word from another witness...
A charge will mean a trial. Where all this is laid bare.
Why does the law care what he does in private?
He was happy and in love. We have to fight for that.
You're not that bloody naive.
The only fight left is for you to come in and say you knew nothing.
Or better yet... give him an alibi.
Oh, right. Yeah, lie under oath
to hide Leonard from a stupid, outdated law.
I can't do that, Geordie. It goes against everything I believe in.
You tell the truth, and he's done for.
As I said to your officers before, it's Derek's handwriting,
- without a doubt. - Mm-hm.
Was he always so pithy?
Not judging by some of the annual parish meetings.
It was one of the oddities about his death.
He wrote tirelessly to constituents and on council matters
ever since his war days.
Is that where you met? In the war?
Have you heard of Operation Mincemeat?
We managed to fool the Germans into thinking
we were going to invade the Balkans using just a dead tramp,
an officer's uniform and some faked papers.
Did he have any enemies?
Derek had an ability to be liked.
Even when he wasn't always easy to live with.
Sorry, didn't realise you had company.
Oh, Robert, come in. Robert Waterhouse is an old friend.
Will's kindly asked Inspector Keating to look into Derek's death.
Ah, you knew Derek well?
In our youth... and these last few weeks after coming to visit.
Erm, I was basing a character on him.
I'm an author. It was for my next novel.
All feels very inappropriate now.
I've been able to lean on him for help with the election.
Well, hardly.
I hand out leaflets, she's the one being righteous
and brilliant and changing the world.
D'you think Derek was capable of taking his own life?
Inspector, I imagine you and I both spend a lot of time
trying to get into other people's heads. Lining up the plots.
But truthfully, I don't think anyone really knows
what goes on inside another man's mind.
You said he wrote tirelessly to his constituents.
Could we see any of the letters?
I mean who files carbon copies of their correspondence?
Who files their correspondence?
Well, haven't found any evidence of a falling out,
but if I read one more complaint
about traffic measures in the high street...
So, there's a chain of letters here
relating to a drainage issue in a property down by the Cam.
A Mr Eric Pritchard getting rather tetchy.
I'll raise you an Elsie Bedwell,
moaning about the bleating sheep.
In this last letter, Derek shuts down Pritchard's complaint
by saying: "I'm sorry. There's nothing more to be done."
It's the same words from the suicide note.
_
Handwriting's a match as well.
It's the exact same letter.
It's not a suicide note. It never was.
Derek sends this to Eric Pritchard...
Who cuts out this particular phrase,
slips it into Derek's pocket...
And pushes him in the water.
I thought this place was empty.
Mrs C said the owner moved on years ago.
Mr Pritchard?
No big pile of post.
Someone had to be coming here to collect Derek's letters.
The someone who started a correspondence with him,
to elicit a letter that sounded like a suicide note.
- All sounds a bit elaborate. - It's murder, Geordie.
By someone who knew Derek. Knew this place was empty.
It's someone in the village.
Do a few common factors underpin all good fiction?
A hero's quest, a decisive crisis...
a changed status quo?
Well, I like to think it's not the universal,
but more the personal stories that really chime the strongest.
Hello, Will... Inspector.
I'm guessing you're not here for the book club.
Er, we're just checking on some parish business.
Oh, of course.
Oh, bloody hell,
they'll have you in the village stocks for this.
All the minutes from the last 12 months.
If Derek caused any grievances at the council, it'll be here.
It's quite the cast of characters you have here, Reverend.
Well, I get the feeling
we're all gonna be in one of your books one day.
Well, I promise I'll be kind.
Er, did I sense some, er,
reluctance from Reeny when I called earlier?
I think she'd hoped you'd look into it discretely.
A policeman calls on a candidate two days before a vote.
Ah. I was, er... I was just trying to do the right thing.
Oh, and you did! Inaction would be far worse.
Here we go. Give us a minute, would you, Mr Waterhouse?
Planning applications this year.
Denied three times. All made by Phillip St Martin.
Maurice St Martin's cousin. Lot of money lost out on.
It's like you said: it's someone who knew Derek
and knows this village.
So, what do you say, Phillip?
Must have been frustrating
that Derek was blocking your planning applications.
Extremely.
It's no secret that Derek and I never saw eye-to-eye.
How so?
I believe in investing in local businesses
and letting us get on with it. Derek didn't.
But if you're suggesting
that his death was in some way suspicious...
I am.
Look, Derek could be a pain,
but councillors come and go every few years.
I'm a patient man.
Truth is, I found a much better revenge.
- And what's that? - Maurice.
Running for office.
Can you think of a more perfect grenade to roll into the council?
I was with my husband in the main hall.
We attended the dance and stayed for a drink.
Did you see Mr Finch leave the dance hall?
No, I did not.
Oh, so you didn't see if Mr Marlowe left with Mr Finch?
- No, I did not. - So, would it be fair to say that
as far as you're aware,
Mr Finch went back to his chalet alone?
"The integrity of the upright guides them,
"but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity."
Have you ever seen Mr Finch show affection for another man?
Mrs Chapman?
- No. - What did you see, Mrs Chapman?
You wouldn't want to pervert the course of justice now.
I don't think Mrs...
- No. - Or obstruct our investigation.
- No! - So, what did you see?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Leonard...
Hang on! Right... what do you think of this?
"The views and attitudes that shaped us
"may not shape the next generation.
"But perhaps nor will the prejudices we wrestle with today.
"We are a community, and a community only works
"when it carries everyone along with it."
It's very... political, for a sermon.
Well, I was thinking of speaking at the hustings.
Accentuate the positives of a progressive candidate.
You might find that church and state
are kept at a distance for a reason.
Never underestimate public opinion.
I've been thinking about going back to the police.
Present them with a reasonable story,
about Daniel and I being seen innocently together.
Lying is not the answer to this.
But what is? I have the sword of Damocles hanging over me.
Come to the hustings!
It'll take your mind off any sharp objects floating above you.
Hm?
What happened?
Look, I understand that you're angry.
I'm not angry.
You wish things were back the way they were. Before you knew.
Pandora's box is open.
Leonard is still Leonard. His life is not a sin.
And that's the view of the Archdeacon, too, is it?
When he said you're out as well if you defend him?
You listened in?
Course I bloody did!
He's part of your flock. And you let him stray.
- I let him be himself. - Oh, and look where that's got us!
You're the shepherd.
And you stood by and let us all wallow in his sins.
Oh, don't be such a bigot!
- I will not be spoken to like that. - Mrs C!
Stupid boy!
Oh, please tell me you've come to make an exonerating statement.
I can't do that, Geordie.
Well, Mrs C was hardly a star witness,
and now you're gonna tell the truth,
even if you damn Leonard and lose your job.
I don't know. I feel impotent.
Have you tried oysters?
What are you gonna do?
Maurice St Martin, let's bring him in.
Some new evidence come to light?
I've asked around. He's a hustler. Underhanded tactics... er, bribery,
sabotage, devaluing the land, forcing the owners to undersell.
So, basically, you want me to haul someone in you don't like,
based on some village gossip?
Oh, fine, Geordie, it's clearly not worth wasting your time pursuing.
Easy! That's not what I'm saying.
In fact, I've already asked Miss Scott...
The St Martin files and the McArthur files, from the archive.
Thank you, Miss Scott.
Forget God. You want an all-seeing presence,
she's in a wiggle dress on desk seven.
What is it?
Five years back, Reeny sustained some nasty injuries
after an incident at her home.
- What happened? - There's nothing.
There's no charges, but it reads more like a fight than a fall.
So, what... Derek beats her and they shushed it up?
Reeny mentioned he wasn't always easy to live with.
So, after years of suffering in silence,
the wife knocks off her abusive husband?
Believe me, that is the most likely motive so far.
I'll leave you to it.
Reeny, er, we... we need to ask you a few more questions about Derek.
Did he have a temper?
Ever struggle with his anger boiling over?
He could get worked up.
And was that ever aimed at you?
What started as a happy marriage didn't always stay that way.
Whose does?
But, erm, we did good work together.
A few years back, there was a domestic incident here.
Police were called.
It's not exactly "good work" from the sounds of it.
Yes. There were violent moments.
And, yes...
..I won't lie, the thought of killing him did cross my mind.
But he wasn't an evil man. He was... haunted, perhaps.
Tricking the Germans might seem clever,
but truthfully, war is one awful choice after another.
For Derek, it was picking the men who never came back.
You don't have to defend a violent man.
People should know the truth about him.
Really?
I'm being judged because he died.
Because of how he died.
Because of everything except who I am.
I don't need to give the world more of Derek.
I wanted him to retire. I didn't want to kill him.
Do you really think I would have come to you,
questioning his suicide, if I had?
Someone like Reeny as a chairwoman might take up Leonard's fight.
If it comes to that.
You do not want it to come to that.
At some point, bad laws need to be overturned.
People like Maurice are holding this world back.
People like Reeny...
I wouldn't pin all your hopes on her, Will.
- Well, I have to pin them somewhere. - No, you don't!
What you have to do is give Leonard an alibi.
Geordie!
Do you think I like asking?
Jesus Christ, Will, there's cracks in Leonard's story.
Larry's been on the phone to the
Merries staff for more statements.
- If one person saw something else... - I can fix this.
Just come to the station and tell us Bryan Stanford was mistaken...
..because Leonard was in that bloody twin bed across from you.
Hey!
Then all this goes away.
_
And that is how I know
that the growing number of passing motor vehicles is a concern.
And I know that the lack of a telephone line
in Spring Lane is a concern.
I know these things
because I live amongst you and have done all my life.
I know Grantchester,
and I want to serve it as best I can.
Thank you.
Thank you, Mrs McArthur.
- Mr St Martin, would you like to respond? - Oh, yes.
Derek McArthur served as chairman to the council for many years.
Mrs McArthur by his side. His suicide is tragic.
But it does beg a question.
What was he so sacred of?
Was there something rotten in Grantchester?
Perhaps Mrs McArthur can help us,
since she's been seen talking to the police.
Perhaps you would care to comment
on the accusation of gross indecency
levelled at our very own church curate?
- Hey! - Bloody hell.
Reeny!
This is utter...
I-I have no idea what allegations you're talking about.
Really? Only a policeman calls on you yesterday and today,
and the curate fella's been down the station, too.
I mean, it's plain deviancy here on our own doorstep!
To think that the unnatural can take up home amongst us.
I ask, do you want a council that's just a soft touch,
or do you want one that takes a stand against the corruption
that threatens our traditional, British way of life?!
- Bloody hell. - You dare to throw these accusations out here,
for public trial? This isn't a cheap game for scoring points.
You're toying with someone's else life!
You're-you're pouring poison in people's ears and for what?
For a few bloody votes!
And what exactly are you peddling, Reverend?
Milk and honey for poofs and communists!
Order, please!
Steady on! This man should be disqualified!
All right! All right!
Everyone just needs to calm down... and go home.
Leonard!
Leonard, I am... I am so, so sorry.
- What... what was said? - Well, you heard the crux of it.
And, er, Maurice only had the allegation.
The village?
Mixed.
And, er, I'm sorry I, er, spoke up.
That speech you were writing?
Er, a little more off-the-cuff, in the end.
That's...
OK?
Well, I, erm... hit a table.
It all got a little bit rowdy.
Ah. Sounds very Jesus in the temple.
People won't care.
How can I stand in front of our congregation again?
Walk into a... a post office. I ran!
I ran out and I didn't... defend myself.
I did! And Reeny will, I'm-I'm sure.
And the Archdeacon will be happy with that, will he?
I would hate more than anything for
my mistakes to cost you this...
..your vocation.
Please, Will.
I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror
if I didn't say something.
You are a... wonderful idiot sometimes.
Hello?
Oh, sorry. The door was open, and nobody answered.
No, I'm up, I am. Come in.
- I can come back? - No, it's fine, I was just, erm...
I can't pretend I'm not disappointed.
In me?
Uh... I was a little taken aback. The whole village was.
Allegations about Derek, accusations of Leonard.
Leonard is a good man. We are so lucky to have him.
Damn anyone who thinks differently.
And what a world it would be if everyone felt the same.
But you can't rock the boat if they push you out of it.
Another surprise delivery.
Well, will you look who it is?
The only man who can turn a parish election into a fist fight.
- Jesus would be proud. - Jesus never met Maurice St Martin.
How did he know about Leonard?
I don't know, but I'm gonna find out.
- Reeny received this today. - Hm?
And "this" is what?
Some sort of surveillance?
Someone's made timings of the comings and goings
from the St Martin warehouse.
There's about two weeks' worth there, starting two months ago.
Who's it from?
Well, there's a covering letter from a private detective
that Derek hired. But there's no address or number given.
This last entry says, "Observation is suspended...
"to avoid suspicion."
Derek was spying on Maurice?
_
No-one's in.
Well, that private detective must have been watching from somewhere.
Here's your surveillance post.
A clear view of them, but hard for them to see you.
No ash in the ashtray. Only cigarette butts.
- So? - Must be on the floor.
Can't see any.
This how you win over all your potential voters, is it, Maurice?
I see exactly what your game is. This is a vendetta.
- A vendetta? - He doesn't like it that I'm a hair's breadth
from the parish council, so, last day of the campaign,
he's fitting me up for whatever happened to Derek.
He's the one you should arrest, for sheltering a homosexual.
Who told you there were allegations about Leonard Finch?
I've got little birds everywhere.
At a guess, some cop got loose-lipped at the Lodge.
So, why'd you make a run for it at the shed?
Because when I find people nosing around my property
with a pair of binoculars and I've done nothing wrong,
I figure it's a stitch-up.
You know, you love to play the victim, don't you?
"Poor Maurice, picked on by the leftie vicar."
Must wind you up something rotten,
people preferring the vision I'm selling to yours.
You're pretty close to your cousin Phillip, aren't you?
It's gotta be a pain his plans keep getting squashed by the council.
Rumour has it, you've a habit of sabotaging land sales
and then swooping in to buy them up cheap.
Derek McArthur got wise to your intentions
and sent a private detective to keep watch.
And when you found out, you got angry...
..followed Derek...
and pushed him into the Cam.
That's... That's what you've got?
Oh, bloody hell.
You're right about one thing. I do know how to get a good deal.
Which is why I'd been helping Derek buy a house down in Hove.
Now, why would I kill a man I was
about to make a commission off?
Ah, there's something not right about this surveillance operation.
- The ashtray's bothering me. - Come again?
This private detective smoking away, watching the St Martin's place,
but...
..there's no ash.
Why?
Well, I dunno, maybe he knocked it over?
So why not bin the lot? Why just put the stubs back?
Erm, to make it look like someone had spent some time there?
And why would someone want you to believe that?
We've got a few crumbs of evidence, and...
I want to believe they point back to Maurice, but...
the ash tray? The anonymous private detective?
The notebook?
They're like the components of an elaborate story.
And who do we know who likes to tell stories?
_
- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.
Will. Inspector.
Everything all right?
We've just been on the phone to your publisher,
who was very keen to point out the military accuracy in your books
is because of your own experiences.
Of course. Robert and I were both in military intelligence.
With Derek.
What's this about?
You once told me that we both spend time lining up evidence,
to... to make sense of a crime.
How about we head down the station and have a go now?
You wrote to Derek under the guise of "Eric Pritchard"
to elicit a response that looked like a suicide note.
You then met him at the Cam and you pushed him in.
You should take up writing novels yourself, Inspector.
But then Reeny asked me to look into it.
Because Derek had made retirement plans you had no idea about.
But then she became a suspect herself,
and you had to move the focus elsewhere.
And who was I most set against?
Cue a hastily-faked observation post
at the St Martin's place,
to imply that Derek had hired a private investigator.
Now it looks like Maurice has found out Derek was spying on him,
which gives him a motive for revenge.
It's all very... Operation Mincemeat.
Well, it's fascinating. Really.
But you're starting from a false premise:
what possible motive would I have for wanting to kill an old friend?
"They sat in that cafe, as people came and went about their business.
"Just a tablecloth apart, but he saw now that a world lay between them.
"A continent of things unsaid. Regrets piled up like mountains."
"She would know nothing of this world and that terrible loss,
"he knew, was of his own making."
They say you write what you know...
..and you've been in love with Reeny McArthur for 20 years.
"Righteous and brilliant...
"and changing the world."
She burned with life.
I was so in awe... I could never find the words to tell her.
It's ironic, really.
She married Derek while I was posted away.
I didn't come back. Not for a long time.
But when I did...
..her fire had...
dimmed.
Oh, give over, Mr Waterhouse.
You're not the first man to miss the boat with a pretty girl.
That bastard beat her!
He got her and he broke her!
But you would have made her happy?
I worshipped her. No-one could've made her happier.
I couldn't stand by and do nothing.
Real knight in shining armour.
If I didn't intervene...
You murdered her husband in cold blood.
How very gallant of you.
I think he really did just want to help.
How dare he.
How dare he make it his job to "save me"!
I'm so sorry.
I've lost my husband and now my best friend.
In no time at all.
- Voting day, Iris. - Afternoon, Reeny.
Come along, now.
After you.
- Apologies, after you. - It's quite all right, I'm just, er,
popping out for a minute.
- Good day? - Fine.
Well, er, had better.
I'm sorry I called you a...
I'm sorry for what I said.
- Lie to them. - What?
Please. I can't lose my boy.
- Hello, Will. - I've come to give my statement to Geordie.
You, too? He's in with Mr Finch.
Leonard's here?
So... what is it you'd like to say?
"To thine own self be true."
Isn't that how it goes?
The allegation made by Bryan Stanford...
it's true.
He was not lying about seeing me...
..in bed with another man.
- Leonard... - Bloody hell.
Why are you telling us this now?
Because it's the truth, Inspector.
- Was this other man Daniel Marlowe? - No. A stranger.
I don't recall a name. Just a holiday romance.
Then I must charge you with the crime of gross indecency...
..committed at the Merries Holiday Camp
on 29 August this year.
DC Peters will now escort you through the charging process.
You're not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so.
But what you say will be taken down in writing
and may be given in evidence.
For your own safety, and in view of the late hour,
you'll stay here overnight
and be taken to the magistrates in the morning.
*CREDITS*