Midsomer Murders (TV Series)

Death in Disguise (1998)

John Nettles: DCI Tom Barnaby

Quotes 

• [after Craigie has been killed by a knife in the chest] 

  May Cuttle : Inspector, I know you think the master was probably murdered, but you are going about this in quite the wrong way!

  D.C.I. Barnaby : And how would you describe his present situation?

  Heather Beavers : Well, it's obvious. He's been astrally harvested.

  [rolls her eyes] 

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Then how do you explain a carving knife stuck in his chest?

  Heather Beavers : A celestial lance.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : With "Made in Sheffield" stamped on it?

• [finding that Craigie's hair is a wig] 

  Sergeant Troy : I said he was dodgy, right from the start!

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Well, maybe, but wearing a wig is no reason to kill a man. With one or two notable exceptions.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : [Troy narrowly misses hitting a pickup truck]  You have taken the driving course, haven't you, Troy?

  Sergeant Troy : Yes sir. Four or five times.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : [to Sgt. Troy after another rough ride]  That driving course, did you ever finish it?

• Sergeant Troy : Suhami, she calls herself.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yes she is, isn't she?

  Sergeant Troy : What?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Beautiful. I'm a copper. I notice things like that.

• Ken Beavers : It had to be a complete stranger. The Master himself was not pleased. I could tell.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : What do you mean? What stranger?

  Heather Beavers : Why, Mr. Gamelin, of course. The Master seemed to reach out to him as he fell, like this... Why you? Why you, he seemed to be asking. Such pain, such bewilderment on his face.

  Ken Beavers : I'm surprised Trixie didn't mention it to him.

  Heather Beavers : Then again, they are old friends, astral allies.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Hold it right there. Why?

  Ken Beavers : Oh, don't think bad of Heather, Inspector. It's not nosiness. It's just her cosmic aerials are so finely tuned.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Oh, all of this clap trap. I'm not interested in her cosmic aerials. So can we please have no more chat about astral powers? This man has been murdered and whoever killed him will pay for it. Now, can you please tell me in plain English why Guy Gamelin would want to kill Ian Cragie?

  Heather Beavers : Oh, because his daughter planned to give her inheritance to the lodge.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Bad moment?

  May Cuttle : No, no. Memories, inspector. Grief and joy... mixing like pork and mustard. Not that I've had pork in years.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Mr. Beavers.

  Ken Beavers : Yes?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : I'd like another word with you, please.

  Heather Beavers : What about?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : About brothels, Mrs. Beavers. Or rather the one you and your husband ran in Hull. The place where the trawlers used to come from.

  Ken Beavers : Oh dear. It was a very good brothel.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Oh, I'm sure.

  Heather Beavers : It was a partnership like John Lewis's, in that the staff used to share the profits with us.

  Ken Beavers : No one was ever pressurized. No one got hurt.

  Heather Beavers : As two or three high ranking police officers could have testified to at our trial, but didn't.

  [pause] 

  Heather Beavers : Inspector? Does this have to become common knowledge?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : You mean will I tell anyone? I'm a policeman, Mrs. Beavers, not a gossip.

• Ava Rokeby : [Last lines]  Mr. Barnaby.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Oh, Ms. Rokeby.

  [pause] 

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Oh, do sit down. We were just talking about you. A certain recipe brought you to mind.

  Ava Rokeby : You said you'd give me something special after the arrest.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yes I did. I was lying.

  Ava Rokeby : That is outrageous.

  Cully Barnaby : Well, what do you expect? He's a policeman.

  Ava Rokeby : I kept to my side of the bargain, stayed clear till it was all over.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yes you did. Tell me this then. Your contact up at the manor house. What was his name?

  Ava Rokeby : Lips are sealed. Ethics.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : It was Ken Beavers, wasn't it? You even bought him a mobile telephone with which he could reach you. How much did you pay him?

  Ava Rokeby : Again, ethics.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Bye bye, Ms. Rokeby.

  Ava Rokeby : 1500 quid. Come on Barnaby, something to follow up with tomorrow? You promised me.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Hull Crown Court, September 1991. Ken and Heather Beavers. Brothel keeping.

  [Rokeby smiles] 

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Your readers will love it. I know I did.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Mr. Craigie. Can I have a word? I'd like to see Mr. Carter's room.

  [a young man bolts past, running up the stairs] 

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Wait, where are you going? What's your name?

  Ian Craigie : Uh, this is Tim Riley, Inspector.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Well, let him speak for himself. What's your name?

  Ian Craigie : As a matter of fact, he doesn't speak at all.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Is that because he can't or because he won't?

  Ian Craigie : You say that as if the first were forgivable, the second a sin. That will be the policeman in you, forever doubting.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Did you know Mr. Carter well?

  Ian Craigie : I thought so, but clearly we were strangers.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Because he liked to drink and you didn't know?

  Ian Craigie : A cry for help, wouldn't you say?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Maybe he just liked having secrets. That must be the downside of communal living. Don't have any privacy. What other secrets, I wonder?

  Ian Craigie : Such a wise companion. Such a kind and generous man. And yes, a great reader all his life. I met him shortly after he came out of prison.

  [pause] 

  Ian Craigie : I thought that would interest you, Inspector.

• Sergeant Troy : What did you make of him, sir?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Cragie? Hmm, it's what Cragie made of me ten years ago that rankles. 20 times 12 is 240 quid, plus VAT.

  Sergeant Troy : Honestly, sir. Your wife? Assertion training? Coals to Newcastle, surely.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : If only it had been cooking.

  Sergeant Troy : Craigie and that boy Tim. What do you reckon? Hanky-lanky?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : No, I don't think so. I think Cragie's that rare thing, a good man. Remember them, Troy?

  Sergeant Troy : You ask me he's as dodgy and daft as the rest of them. Peace, love and grow your own goats.

• Ian Craigie : Chief Inspector, welcome. We haven't met, but, uh, May tells me your wife attended one of our courses. Assertion training, I believe.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yes, I remember. 12 sessions at 20 quid a throw, plus VAT. You must be...

  Arno Gibbs : This is our beloved master, Chief Inspector.

  Ian Craigie : Not so much master. More map reader to my fellow pilgrims.

  [extends his hand] 

  Ian Craigie : Ian Craigie.

• Joyce Barnaby : What does Sergeant Troy think?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : What does Sergeant Troy think? Sergeant Troy thinks I'm a bastard. I made him stay overnight at the lodge in case one of the visitors does a moonlight flit.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Anything to worry about?

  Dr. Bullard : In life Tom, almost always, but in this bloke's death, nothing.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : On the other hand, perhaps we ought to take May seriously.

  Sergeant Troy : What? "Oh God,. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? If they do a postmortem," dot, dot, dot. It's not much to go on.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : You've convinced me. Hope we haven't missed something, something crucial.

  Sergeant Troy : Like what, sir?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : The dark forces at work, Troy.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : [deboning a fish]  Greater love hath no fish that then he should lay down his life for my lunch. How's the sauce coming?

  Joyce Barnaby : It's a wee bit lumpy. Tastes okay, though.

  Cully Barnaby : You remind me of someone. It's either Raymond Blanc or Jack the Ripper.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : You wait until you taste it.

  Joyce Barnaby : It still looks a bit funny.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : [Barnaby goes to throw the bones out when he sees May Cuttle]  it's that May Cuttle from the lodge of the...

  Cully Barnaby : Oh, the commune.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yeah, the commune up the manor. She's here again. Say what you like, but I'm not here!

  Joyce Barnaby : Leave her to me!

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Treats me like her local Bobby!

  Cully Barnaby : Well, because that's what you are, Dad.

  Joyce Barnaby : I am, I can, I will get rid of her!

  [pause] 

  Joyce Barnaby : Ms. Cuttle. Actually we just...

  May Cuttle : This is terribly urgent!

  Joyce Barnaby : Miss Cuttle, uh...

  May Cuttle : [searches through the house]  Um, Mr. Barnaby,

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Yes, Miss Cuttle. How are you?

  May Cuttle : I'm in the pink, Mr. Barnaby.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Oh, good.

  May Cuttle : Alas, Mr. Carter is a definite shade of gray!

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Did you know Mr. Carter well?

  Ian Craigie : I thought so. But clearly we were strangers.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Because he liked to drink and you didn't know?

  Ian Craigie : A cry for help, wouldn't you say?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Maybe he just liked having secrets. That must be the downside of communal living. Don't have any privacy. What other secrets, I wonder?

  Ian Craigie : Such a wise companion. Such a kind and generous man. And yes, a great reader all his life. I met him shortly after he came out of prison.

  [Barnaby takes notice] 

  Ian Craigie : Yes, I thought that would interest you, Inspector.

• Joyce Barnaby : Oh, darling.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : You shouldn't have waited up.

  Joyce Barnaby : That's all right. Do you want a cup of tea?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : No, no, no. Whiskey please. Large, large.

  Joyce Barnaby : That bad, eh?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Mm hmm.

  [pause] 

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Those people at the lodge, I misread them. I thought they were harmless. Plainly one of them is not.

  Cully Barnaby : Maybe they struck a chord with the aging hippie in you, Dad.

• D.C.I. Barnaby : Look, Mr. um...

  Raymond Jennings : Jennings. Raymond Jennings.

  D.C.I. Barnaby : Mr. Jennings, the first time I met Ms. Channing, she had a scar here and a bruise there.

  Trixie Channing : And you think that Raymond - that I was coming back for more?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : I'm sorry, Ms. Channing. Not particularly fond of men who beat up women.

  Raymond Jennings : Oh, really? And how do you feel about women who beat up men. ?

  D.C.I. Barnaby : I'm sorry?

  Trixie Channing : Raymond's wife, Mr. Barnaby. She was a husband beater. And when Raymond and I got friendly, she turned on me as well.

  Sergeant Troy : How big is she?

  Raymond Jennings : Arnold Schwarzenegger would tremble. But yesterday my divorce came through. I'm free of her.

  [wraps his arms around Trixie] 

  Raymond Jennings : We're free of her.