I'm proud of you, getting this job.
- Are you a waiter? - Butler!
Can someone get me down? Me legs are numb!
David! Go home.
Sorry, Mum.
I did a bad murder.
Did anyone else apart from him see you do that murder?
That's three more witnesses we've got to get rid of.
Are you happy with that? Being drowned?
Go fill a bath, David.
Now, David!
Synch: mpm & nitrogenc
You're listening to Movie Magic with me, Henry Kelly.
Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the shower,
that was, of course, the unmistakable sound
of Bernard Herrmann with the score for Alfred...
Well, shall I put the kettle on? I'm absolutely gasping.
So was he.
Oh, yeah! Funny that.
Like when you say you're dying for the toilet.
It doesn't mean you're gonna die.
Unless your stools are black. What colour are your stools, David?
- Banoffee pie. - That's all right, then.
We're getting good at this.
That was easier than the last one.
Mind you, it wasn't as satisfying. Bit like a Chinese.
Is that why these serial killers can't stop, David?
The god-like power over human life enables serial killers to compensate
for childhood humiliations or adult inadequacies,
leading to feelings of potency
and superiority which cannot be attained in their day-to-day lives.
Yeah, like I say : it's moreish.
Look, David.
It's them pyramid tea bags!
I've always wanted to try one of these.
Apparently, you get a bigger flavour.
And he's got a Lord Of The Rings mug, David.
Do you want it? I'm happy with a plain one.
- I'm not bothered! - What's the matter?
I can't get this tie undone.
Stupid knot!
Because you bite your nails.
Give it here.
This was your dad's tie, you know.
He'd have been really proud to see you wearing it.
I don't want to talk about him.
Well, he would have been proud. Seeing how you've turned out.
He always said you'd end up doing something with your hands.
Like mending cars, not doing strangles!
"Our David may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer",
he used to say, "but he'll end up with his name in the papers one day.
"You mark my words."
That reminds me, we can tick him off now, can't we?
What was his name again?
- Dad's name? - No! The chappie in the box.
Martin. Martin Pike.
There we are. That's another one done.
Right, who shall we do next? What about him?
Snooty bugger.
Can we not stop now?
You're being blackmailed, remember? It's either them or you.
How do we know he's dead?
Course he's dead.
Look at that face.
What would you say that is, like a royal blue? Or a duck-egg blue?
Cornflower.
Yeah, well, he's brown bread now, isn't he? Dead.
What shall we do? Leave him here or dump him in the canal?
- Leave him. - We could chop him up in the bath,
if that'd make you feel better. Like Donald Neilson.
Dennis Nilsen! Donald Neilson was the Black Panther!
- Totally different murderer! - I'm always getting them two mixed up.
Why couldn't I see Dad's body?
When?
When he died.
We were at the police station. You had to tell them what you'd done.
Don't go dredging up the past.
I'm going to have a quick dust round.
I know what you're like with your dandruff, Shake'n'Vac.
- You go and check the toilet. - What for?
Them!
CSI'd have a field day with your pubics.
Go have a wee and hose them all down.
- I don't want one! - Just try, David.
You've had four smoothies today already. I'm not getting halfway home
and having you with your trousers steaming.
Put that stuff back on the trunk.
Test me on the poisoners.
- Not now, David. - I want it!
Which poisoner killed the most victims?
I know why you're doing this and I'm not going down that road again.
Answer: Marcel Petiot, 27.
Which doctor administered lethal doses of hydrobromide?
I dunno. Dr. Legg off EastEnders.
Answer: Dr. Hawley Harvey Crippen.
I don't like this china dog. Alsatians frighten me.
Who murdered her seven-year-old stepson with rat poison?
- Answer: Mary Ann Cotton. - I'm not listening.
Which cross-eyed serial killer murdered Matilda Clover
and was hanged on November 19th, 1892?
Answer: Dr Thomas Neill Cream.
And who put 39 sleeping pills in his dad's Smash?
- Answer: David Sowerbutts. - I was trying to help him!
He looked so tired.
I wanted to help him sleep.
You certainly did that.
I know you hate me for what I done.
I don't hate you.
We've been through this.
In fact...
in many ways...
it was a blessing.
What's brought all this on? Killing that man?
Come here, you daft sod.
You're my hero, aren't you?
My little Superman.
And you never forget that!
Shall we put the cheering-up tape on?
Are you sure? I've brought it!
- OK! - Come on, let's have a laugh!
We'll soon have you sorted out.
You know, your uncle Paul said he could put this on a DVD for you.
That'd be good, wouldn't it? Would you like?
I'm not bothered.
One, two
One, two, three, go!
Clap your hands!
Sleep!
Wave your hands!
Hitch a ride!
Sneeze!
Go for a walk!
Let's see you swim!
Now ski!
Spray!
Macho man!
Sound your horn!
Ring the bell!
Kiss!
Comb your hair!
Wave your hands!
Come on, wave your hands!
Superman!
Clap your hands...
- Now you're looking really good! - What was that?
Now you've go the hang of it
We're gonna try it one more time...
Mr Pike?
Martin Pike, are you all right?
I can see you. Could you let me in, please?
You're turning towards me now.
Standing on one leg.
Scratching your left ear.
Right ear.
Swimming, is it?
Flying!
Yes, I'm pretty sure I can see you.
Sorry about that.
Not at all.
Can't be too careful.
Jason Griffin.
We spoke on the telephone.
That's right.
I'm glad you're in.
I was beginning to think I'd got the wrong address.
This is my correct home.
You've a lovely flat. Have you been here long?
- About ten minutes. - Sorry?
Years.
Ten years.
My mum died and left it to me in her last will and ornaments.
Testaments.
I think she did.
- We spoke on the phone? - That's right.
You said I could pay a visit some time this afternoon.
- You want to use the toilet? - No, no. Not just yet, thank you.
Did I hear a whistling kettle?
Never mind. Shall we get straight down to business?
Let's do some business.
Good-oh.
As I said on the telephone, I'm in the area
investigating a series of murders.
I wondered if you had any information.
There's nothing in that!
Just decorative, then?
Lovely piece, actually. Is it Queen Anne?
It's a wooden box.
We'll soon find out.
The inscription is usually just inside the lid...
Who's for a nice cup of tea, then?
I'm ever so sorry. I'm Mrs Pike, I'm Martin's mum.
But Mr Pike was just telling me that you were...
Well, dead.
The other one.
The other mum. The poor one!
It's like Blood Brothers.
I was just admiring your chest.
Really? You should have seen 'em before he got his gums on 'em.
Pinky and Perky, my husband used to call 'em.
I meant the Queen Anne chest.
Quite a nice piece.
Yeah, that. We don't really use it for anything much any more,
do we? Just...
broken glass,
nettles,
dead...
wasps, that sort of thing.
You're better off not even looking at it, to be honest.
- We don't, do we? - No, it's shit.
Don't!
- Would you like a tea, Mr... - Oh, yes, please.
Chief Inspector Griffin.
As in...
police inspector, not...
parking meters?
If only it was so frivolous!
No, I was just saying, Mrs Pike,
I'm in the area investigating a recent series of murders.
- Shitting heaven! - It seems your son here
may have a link to one or more of the victims.
- Have you? - No!
Well, there you are. Thanks for coming!
I still have to file a report, I'm afraid.
Cross the I's, dot the T's.
Stop fiddling with your tie, Martin!
38 and he still can't do a proper knot.
Allow me.
Most of the plods have clip-ons, of course, for safety reasons,
but once you reach the rank of inspector,
a good old fashioned Windsor knot is the order of the day.
Must be exciting, having a murder to crack.
Well, it can be, but this case is rather baffling.
We have nothing to go on. No DNA, no forensics.
But we'll get there.
We'll bait our traps and wait patiently
for the perpetrator to slip up, which they always do.
Make no mistake.
Whoever committed these murders
- will swing for it. - You can't hang murderers!
Not since Allen and Evans in 1964.
Of course,
I was speaking metaphorically.
Alas,
I'm just here to tick boxes, really.
You make it sound like working in a bank.
What do you mean by that?
Nothing. It's you make it sound boring.
Don't you have a wall with photos of dead bodies on and arrows and that?
- He does! - Really?
He wanted to be a policeman,
but his head wouldn't fit in the helmets.
So you fancied yourself as a copper, did you?
It's a noble profession.
But these days, it's all just filing and paperwork.
My real passion is for sleuthing.
Sifting the evidence for clues... proper Sherlock Holmes stuff.
It's all about waiting for the murderer to make his first silly mistake.
That's when it gets
really exciting.
Yeah. You're always saying that, aren't you, David?
David?
I mean...
Martin.
David was...
Can't remember now.
A whatsit.
A Freudian clit.
Indeed.
Well, this is what I'm talking about, Mrs Pike.
A good detective would not only find the clues,
but know how to interpret them. You mentioned Dr Freud.
He believed that deep down, every man
wishes to sleep with his mother and kill his father.
Well, one out of two's not bad.
- I was trying to help him! - Go
and get the inspector a biscuit, Martin.
There's some chocolate Hobnobs in the cupboard.
Whereabouts?
In the cupboard.
Next to the knife drawer.
What drawer?
The knife drawer.
What drawer?
Knife drawer.
Oh, the knife drawer.
He won't be long. Shall we sit soft?
So...
did you know any of Martin's colleagues, Mrs Pike?
Did any of them ever visit the house?
I don't interfere with his work.
I don't even know what he does.
Really? You surprise me.
You seem like the sort of woman who would take more of an interest.
Gloves!
Forgot my gloves.
He's... allergic to chocolates...
the Hobnobs.
A Mars Bar would kill him.
Martin doesn't like me looking over his shoulder.
He's very independent. I don't like fussing him.
No, of course.
Well, from what I can gather, he's very popular at work.
Can you think of anyone who would want to harm Martin, Mrs Pike?
Or the rest of his colleagues, for that matter?
I don't know.
Just let me...
think about that for you.
No, no. I mean,
he put the neighbour's window through with a rugby ball,
but that were years ago.
It would probably be a more recent acquaintance.
Hobnob?
Thank you.
I brought a knife in case you only wanted half.
I'll be naughty and have a whole one.
I was just saying to your mother, Martin,
the police are looking for someone with a vendetta.
So he likes ice cream?
He means a grudge, Martin, someone you've P'd off.
Speaking of which, do you mind if I quickly use your bathroom?
No, that's fine.
Thank you. Whereabouts...
Yes, it's...
through there and up the stairs
and, you know, the usual.
OK. So, left or right?
Where is it?
Follow the smell.
What were you thinking?
- Just stick it in him! - I couldn't! The clock rang.
We must get rid of him. Tell him you've to go.
- Where? - Make something up.
- Shall I say bowling? - Not bowling. Something urgent.
Tell him you've gotta go and get a prescription.
- What for? - I don't know.
A tampack?
- What would you do with a tampack? - I'd say it was for you.
I can't get a pipe cleaner up there these days, never mind a tampack.
I think he knows. He can tell. He nearly found the body.
Because you told him, tell-tale!
- We've got to move it. - We haven't got time!
- We have if he's doing a plop. - What if it's a wee?
We'll be all right if he washes his hands.
Oh, the dirty pig!
- Just a sec. - Hello?
Yeah, it's me,
I've got myself stuck in front of the door for some reason.
- Shall I try again now? - I can't let go of the handle...
It might be cramp. No, I'm all right now. Come in.
Come,
come with me.
I've remembered something about the murders. But only look at me.
That's excellent.
- I've left my pad in the bathroom. - No!
I'll get that for you. Just sit yourself down.
You were saying?
- Can I have your coat? - Sorry?
Give me your coat, you must be boiling.
- That's all right. - You will feel better.
- No, really. - No bother!
- I'd rather not. - Take it off!
I'll just take that for you.
You'll have somebody's eye out.
I remember seeing somebody
hanging around outside the flat.
When was this?
Tuesday.
He was wearing a hat, a big hat with mirrors on,
and he had long hair.
- And he was wearing a coat. - Could you describe it?
I think so, yes.
Right, just a sec!
How do you think I'm doing?
- What? - Am I doing OK?
I think it's going quite well, don't you?
- What do you mean? - The audition.
I could have turned up as the murderer,
but there'd be more scope if I played the inspector.
I didn't realise your mother would be in on the auditions.
Will she have a say in the casting? I'm nervous, I keep trumping. It stinks.
- Bottom burps. - I know. It's cos I had a breakfast.
So you're not a real policeman?
Of course not! I work for the Abbey National.
But I'd love to do more acting. So when I saw your advert I thought,
"Yeah, why not?" I love murder mysteries.
So, do you get to have a meal with the guests as you give them clues?
Yeah. You do, yeah.
So you don't think I done the murders?
I loved that when you come in with the knife!
I was quite scared, actually! I thought you were going to kill me!
- I think you should go now. - Oh, don't say that!
Is it because I didn't stay in character? That is not a problem.
I once spent a whole weekend as a fisherman. We were at some festival.
It wasn't paid, but they gave us a meal at Rick Stein's.
You should go. Mum won't like what you've done.
Has she said that?
It's all right. I'll up the ante.
- I'll pretend to arrest you. - Don't do that!
It'll show my range. I haven't done angry, yet.
I came off a number three tour last year.
It was Poppins in the West End.
I was walk-on cover Bert but they had me covering Mr Banks, as well.
I never went on, but I knew every one of them plots.
We did the Torch, the Wyvern, the Glebe,
and then back to the Pomegranate for Christmas...
No, no, don't call her back yet. I'm not ready.
Here I am.
I got his pad.
What are you shouting your mouth off about?
What's the matter?
Nothing. It's all right now.
Martin, can I have a word?
- He's not a real... - Shut up, it's important. Listen to me.
Go bring the car round the back of the flats. We'll get rid of him.
They can't touch us if they've got no evidence. I saw it all on a Quincy.
- But, Mum! - Just do as you're told.
- Here's your pad. - Thank you.
So, have you caught many famous criminals then, Inspector Griffin?
Not yet. But I'm working on it.
In fact, I might have just made an important breakthrough
in the case I'm investigating at the moment.
Really?
Oh, yes.
It didn't take me long, Mrs Pike.
To do what?
To work out that the murderer was...
your son.
Don't talk wet. He wouldn't hurt a fly.
All the clues were there.
The Queen Anne chest, the plate of Hobnobs,
the lipstick on the wine glass.
- We haven't had wine. - Your son has made a full confession.
I am arresting him for the murder of three people.
If you'd care to accompany us down to the station?
Oh, God!
I suppose it all had to come out eventually.
I blame meself for what happened.
You don't have to say anything without a lawyer being present.
It's too late for that.
David's dad died when he was ten years old.
He was poisoned.
David put sleeping pills in his food.
But that wasn't what killed him.
It was me.
You?
I'd been poisoning him for weeks.
He used to beat me, you see, Inspector.
It's what people did before they had tellys.
One day, I just snapped.
I filled the salt cellar with caustic soda.
Watched him sprinkle his way to a slow and painful death.
David could see him getting weaker and weaker.
He thought he was helping him out, giving him a rest.
But those sleeping pills were the final straw.
He never woke up.
And I let David take the blame.
All those years, in and out of mental hospitals,
struggling with the guilt. I just sat at home and played me Bontempi.
He's my monster,
Inspector.
I created him.
Sorry,
is this still part of the improv? I'm not trying to block you,
- but I'm really confused now. - What?
Mum, the car's here. I think we should go now.
It's all right. I've told the inspector everything.
He's not an inspector. He works at Abbey Nationals.
Only days. I can still do evenings and weekends,
which I imagine we'd mainly be doing. Have I got it?
- What you on about? - He's not a real police, he's an actor.
An actor? I wondered why that pad was full of scribbles.
- David, lock the door. - Are we doing another one?
- I need time to think. - Do you mean another improv?
I'll have to think of a different character. I can do a good Scotch,
"Och hallo, there's been a murrrder, you say?"
Mum, I don't want to do this one! He's got nothing to do with it.
No, you're right.
It's all been play-acting, hasn't it?
Everything you said about the murders.
Everything I said, just then. It was all made up.
So, yeah, you can go.
Well, thanks again for the opportunity,
- and like I say, I really am keen. - We're keen too, aren't we, David?
- You did good. - Have you ever done Shakespeare?
Because you would be a shit-hot Caliban.
- Thank you. - No, no, thank you.
I'd say I loved all that stuff you were doing about killing your husband.
- What? - Nothing.
It was really good! All this stuff about
putting poison in the salt cellar and killing him slowly over weeks.
We'll let you know. We've got all your details, haven't we?
If you do call, just let it keep ringing.
- I can't answer if I'm bathing Dad. - We will.
If someone else answers, tell him to keep knocking, I am in.
I haven't enough time.
- I almost lost Poppins cos of that. - Right, bye.
Oh, what a mess!
An actor?
What was he doing here?
I'll make us a nice fresh pot of tea.
What did he mean?
What? What about?
About you killing Dad?
I was just making stuff up. I don't know what I was saying. I was playing along.
When I was in the hospital, people kept making jokes
about putting poison in the salt.
I never knew what they meant.
It was just something to say, David.
They were probably trying to make you laugh. You had had a nervous breakdown!
I don't want to do any more murders.
Well, you don't have to.
There are other ways of sorting things out.
Leave that to me. You've got your own mind
and no-one can make you do anything you don't want to do.
- Thanks, Mum. - That's all right.
Come here, Superman.
Knock, knock.
Sorry, I'm not earwigging.
I got all the way downstairs, realised I'd forgot me coat.
I'm hoping that's a prop.
What are you doing?
You shouldn't have come here.
Have I got it?
I'm sorry.
Superman!
Clap your hands!
Now you're looking really good!
Now you've got the hang of it!
We're gonna try it one more time We're gonna do it again, OK?
Sleep!
Wave your hands!
Let's see you swim!
And ski!
Spray!