Midsomer Murders

I'm really not happy with the length of my sword, Phyllis.

How old are you, Marcus? 5?

This is a concert, not a full production.

We all have to compromise.

This toy is a compromise too far.

See if there's another sword in the prop store, Derek.

More befitting our Pirate King.

In the meantime, can we run the song with the smaller version?

If you don't feel too emasculated.

From the intro, please, Duncan.

Stand by, everyone.

Luke.

Marcus. Marcus.

Where's he going now?

Has he got the runs?

Marcus. Luke.

Shaila.

Can you please find out what's going on?

It's like herding cats.

This would never have happened in Daddy's day.

His rehearsals ran like clockwork.

You do realize there's only three days till curtain up.

It had crossed my mind.

Well?

The conservator offered me a place.

Oh! Splendid!

Oh, Luke, that's wonderful.

It's the biggest we've got.

Marcus Dunlow, get back on stage now

or I'll sing it myself.

I'll celebrate later. I am so proud of you.

Oh, well done.

How's it going?

Oh, slowly.

Any chance you'll be back for dinner?

Breakfast at this rate.

-John, good to see you. -And you, Jeremy.

So grateful Sarah could step in at such short notice.

I've been trying to get her involved ever since

I heard her sing at that school concert.

-Voice of an angel. -Well, thank you kind, sir.

It must be difficult for you, though,

juggling your work with all the extra childcare.

-We do appreciate it. -It's all in a good cause.

I have to say I'm rather enjoying it.

As is Betty. She's gonna turn into a pizza at this rate.

Phyllis wants all the singers back inside

to avoid wasting any more time.

Better go. Sorry, darling.

Mind if I sneak in the back?

I've got half an hour before I need to pick Betty up.

I wouldn't recommend it, John.

Lady Empson's not very keen on outsiders.

Or anyone else, for that matter.

See you.

Applause, applause, applause, and lights down.

And cue Graham for his Gilbert and Sullivan monologue.

Graham.

I can't find him.

This is in absolute shambles.

-Derek? -Yes.

Can you see where he's got to? I'm losing the will to live.

I came as quickly as I could.

Oh, Simon, thank God.

What do you want?

Ms. Fernsby needs you on stage.

You're the only one who truly understands.

Take two of these now and two before bed.

And promise me you'll call me in the morning.

I promise.

Give me strength.

Ah, Graham, thank you for joining us.

Let's take it from bar two, three, four,

"When I sally forth,"

segue straight into Graham's monologue,

and then into the "Major General" solo.

I'll talk you through it, Marcus.

And head over to the treasure chest.

A bit more pirate swagger.

Tip it open with your sword. Oh, never mind.

Run your hands over the treasure.

Then you see the crown.

What now?

Shaila?

Oh, my God.

Uniform have taken brief statements

from the cast and crew.

No one seems to recognize him.

They can't find an ID?

Nothing so far.

Ahoy there, me hearties.

Got a rum one here.

How did he die?

There's evidence of blunt-force trauma to the head here.

But burst capillaries in the eyes,

face, and neck area suggest possible asphyxia.

Time of death?

I'd say he's been dead for three to five days,

but placed in the chest in the last 24 hours.

Now can you tell?

Skin color.

And volume of purge fluid.

Mind your step, Winter.

Don't want to ruin those lovely shoes.

I'll be able to give you a better idea

when I get him back to the lab.

Keep us posted.

Aye, aye, captain.

Who's in charge of props?

Shaila Handsworth, stage manager.

She's waiting for us outside.

We collected everything from the hire company yesterday.

-And "we" are? -Me and Derek.

Derek Sharrow, general stagehand.

And the pirate chest is one of the props.

Yes. They needed everything set for today's rehearsal.

Didn't leave till around midnight.

Who else has access to this building?

Anyone, really.

The only room that's ever locked is the prop store.

Security cameras?

Lady Empson disapproves.

She wants everything just as it was in her father's day.

Yeah. What's that building?

The estate office.

My husband, Graham's, estate manager.

Well, tell him we'll need to speak to him.

And where might we find Lady Empson?

Phyllis took her back to the hall.

If you follow the drive, it'll take you there.

I'm so glad you didn't see it, my darling.

It was absolutely awful.

I can't talk now, Dad. I'm working.

Yes, Graham?

Same again, and a whiskey chaser.

Make it a double.

-Any news? -The police are up at the hall.

Lady Empson's had one of her turns,

so I'm not sure they'll get much sense out of her.

With any luck, it'll finish her off.

Graham.

Do the police know who he is yet?

They seem just as mystified as we are.

Whoever our killer is kept hold of the body

for at least three days before placing it in the chest,

knowing it would be discovered in a genuine coup de théâtre.

Someone that had a vendetta against the company?

Or the Empson family?

Let's see if they can enlighten us.

Didn't think doctors did home visits anymore.

Not sure this is your regular GP service.

That's on me.

Congratulations.

Thanks.

You okay?

Your dad seems more excited about it than you do.

He got a place at the Royal College,

but his dad made him stay in the family business.

He's regretted it ever since.

So this is his dream.

We can't all be free spirits, Phoebe,

floating around the world in search of enlightenment.

You're welcome to join me.

First stop, Goa,

then who knows.

We're out of tonic, Phoebe.

My aunt suffers from arrhythmia.

The shock must have triggered it.

Fortunate her doctor was close by.

Dr. Charteris is very attentive.

Lady Empson is stable but needs complete rest.

No interviews without consulting me first, Inspector.

I'll bear that in mind.

You'll just have to make do with me, then.

This way.

Just gonna make a quick cast announcement.

Be right there.

You're a wonderful girl.

You know that?

It's been great having you working for us.

I wish you could stay.

Everyone's waiting.

My grandfather, Sir Huntley Empson,

became obsessed with Gilbert and Sullivan in his youth,

founded the Midsomer Mummers, and converted the mill

to stage his own amateur productions.

And your family have continued the tradition ever since.

It's who we are, Inspector.

We're even named from the canon.

Katisha from "The Mikado,"

Phyllis from "Iolanthe."

I just have to be grateful I'm not called Yum Yum!

So this is your 100th year.

Mm. And it might be our last.

Why is that?

The mill is in need of significant investment.

Half the roof tiles are missing, foundation's crumbling.

What will you do?

Oh, the mill and surrounding land

are on a different lease to the estate.