The Coroner

Me again. Party's still going strong. Call me back, yeah?

Or better still, get down here.

Hey, hey! Where're you going?! Uh?

The night is young!

All right. All right, well, maybe not,

but I say... I say we push on through!

Lightweights!

'It's the undisputable sound of summer '94.

It's the lead single from their new album Parklife.

'Here's Blur with Girls And Boys.'

Oh. Just you and me left, sweetheart.

How about another drink?

I've got to go.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Don't I even get one last goodnight kiss?

I don't feel well.

Give that back!

You're stealing from me?

So? It's not like you need it!

Give it back! I don't think so.

Maybe I should call the police?

No, no - just...

Arrrgh!

I'm sorry, sweetheart. Mm?

Look, look, I didn't mean to...

Oh! Well, that was a waste of time!

Rebecca Henson, the woman, she left that message?

Yeah, sorry. My head's in this Army case.

So? Refused to speak to me.

Thinks her information is "for the coroner's ears only."

Did she say what it was about, at least? Nope.

Well, if she's that desperate to see me, she can come here.

I told her that, but she says she can't leave her house.

Maybe she's agoraphobic.

As if I don't have enough to do!

It's not my fault.

I told her I was the coroner's officer but it's like she's got no faith in my professionalism.

I can't imagine why.

Mrs Henson? It's Jane Kennedy, the coroner.

Mrs Henson?

Er, no, thanks.

So, Mrs Henson, you said you have some information?

I'm afraid I don't have long.

Do you remember the Foxby affair?

Yes.

Professionally speaking it was before my time,

but I know what happened.

Do you now? Go on, then.

The Earl of Solberry, known as Jerry Foxby to his friends -

rich, handsome, party animal -

makes a 999 call from his yacht

claiming he thinks he's killed a prostitute.

Escort.

He hangs up and disappears off the face of the Earth.

What do you think happened to him?

Consensus is he killed himself.

I asked what you think.

I don't know. His body was never found.

Neither was the... escort's.

This was over 20 years ago. Why now?

Oliver Foxby. That's...?

Jerry's younger brother.

He's applying for court recognition of his brother's death.

He wants Jerry's title.

So?

Let's say it jogged my memory.

See, I know what really happened on the yacht that night.

How? The police spent years investigating.

They never got anywhere.

The years haven't exactly been kind, I know.

You're...?

I don't want money or nothing.

I just... want people to know the truth.

Why don't I read up on the history of the case?

I can come back tomorrow morning and we can go through your version of events?

S'pose I've waited this long.

Would you mind if I took that photo?

Thanks.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Excuse me. Is Oliver Foxby at home?

Journalist?

Local coroner. Jane Kennedy.

Auntie Peggy! This one's here to see Mr Foxby.

You'd better come through.

Excuse the mess.

Is Mr Foxby having a clear-out?

This all belonged to the Countess, his mother.

She passed a couple of months back.

May I ask your business with His Lordship?

I'd like to discuss with him the application for his brother's death certificate.

Oh. About time it was all sorted.

Sorry, you called him "His Lordship"?

Mr Foxby hasn't inherited his brother's title yet.

It's only a matter of time.

Behind closed doors, he's considered himself the lord for years.

Were you here when Jerry disappeared?

I've been here since Jerry was in nappies.

I was nanny to the boys before I became housekeeper.

And before you ask, no, I don't know what happened to him.

Some people believe he went abroad.

Jerry was like a son to me, but he had the devil in him, too.

Wherever he is, I only hope he's finally at peace.

Well, you can wait in the morning room.

I'll see if he's free.

Thank you.

I was under the impression that the death certificate was now

a matter for the High Court.

Well, the case involves an unexplained death on my patch.

I may be asked to supply relevant material.

So, how can we help?

I was just wondering why you haven't applied for the certificate before now?

Mother wouldn't allow it.

I understand she passed away recently. I'm sorry for your loss.

My mother refused to accept Jerry's death unless she could see his body for herself.

I am more prepared to act on faith.

And, presumably, a death certificate would clear the way for you

to claim the family title and your place in the House of Lords?

It doesn't work quite like that.

Hereditary peers don't get to just stroll into Westminster nowadays.

Oliver already has a distinguished career.

Yes, the Home Office, I believe?

It's where we met.

Thank you.

The thing is, someone's come forward

claiming they have new information about Jerry.

You must forgive us.

We've heard every ridiculous conspiracy theory going.

Believe me, Jerry killed the girl,

threw her body overboard and jumped in after her.

And you're certain of that?

Well, I suppose he might have fallen in.

He was always so drunk it's possible he didn't intend to kill himself.

Either way, the only way I'd believe Jerry is still alive

is if he walked in here and poured himself a drink.

What if she walked in?

Work meeting, is it?

Yes, as it happens. I need to pick his brains about a case.

No, no, no, it's all right, I'll pick something up on the way home.

It's fine.

All right, then. Got to go. Bye. Bye.

Sorry. That was Annette wanting to know what time I'll be back.

So, come on, then, what's this new lead you've got on this mysterious case?

The Foxby affair.

Why does everyone keep doing that?

We've got a filing cabinet at the station, right,

a whole cabinet, full of possible sightings of Jerry Foxby.

Mick! Yeah? Have you seen Jerry Foxby recently?

Yeah, course I have. He was in last week.

Yeah, playing a round of darts with Elvis Presley.

Jane reckons she's got a new lead.

All right, there's no need to take the...

Mick knows all about it, don't you, Mick? Oh, yeah.

Well, he didn't throw himself in the water, I'll tell you that much.

His body would've washed up somewhere.

I was on the lifeboat, remember?

Like you'll ever let us forget. So?

Well, he was murdered.

And you know this because?

Well, rumour has it he'd just had a big win at a high-stakes poker game,

hence the party.

Walked out of there with 200 large,

but the money was never found, not on the yacht or at the house.

I reckon his gambling buddies bumped him off to get their money back.

And what about the girl?

Well, collateral damage, isn't it?

I say he went abroad. Living like a king in Rio.

An army of policemen and every reporter in the country

investigated it for years.

You clever girl. What do you have that they didn't?

An eye-witness.

Come on!

Come on!

How did you talk me into this?

Beer. Lots of beer.

Yeah, that was it. So, why do you want me there?

Because I think she's going to confess to killing him.

She's either lying or deluded.

Still, we should hear her out.

Besides, what've you got to lose?

If it really is Helen Boyd,

you can go down in history

as the copper who finally cracked the Foxby mystery.

Yeah, well, beats doing paperwork, I suppose.

Look, she's a bit strange, so just hold back until I know she's all right with you being here.

Mrs Henson? It's Jane Kennedy - we met yesterday.

Where are you going?

She's not in.

Davey, she's just... Davey.

All right - let's have a look.

Let's have a look.

Mrs Henson!

So much for your eye-witness.

We don't even know if that was Helen Boyd.

According to that woman's passport, her name is Rebecca Henson.

Why would she lie about being a woman everyone thought was dead?

Because she was obsessed with Jerry Foxby. You saw the scrapbook.

What if she really was Helen Boyd

and somebody didn't want her spilling the beans?

I say she killed herself. A hoax.

Her way of sticking up two fingers before she killed herself.