Midsomer Murders

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Last line spoken by Tom Barnaby] What now? I'm going to have my cake and eat it.

[Dave and George are dicussing a group of "twitchers" who have descended on the area, attracted by sightings of a rare bird]

Dave Foxely:
They think bird-watching's better than sex.

George Napier:
[ironically] It probably is, the way *they* do it!

[John Barnaby is reading from a book about rare birds, in connection with the murder case]

DCI John Barnaby:
"The female blue-crested hoopoe has multiple partners and attacks the male viciously in the nether regions after mating".

Sarah Barnaby:
Well, that should stop them feeling frisky.

DCI John Barnaby:
Ouch!

[Sarah seductively strokes John's hand]

Sarah Barnaby:
Are you, uh, feeling frisky?

DCI John Barnaby:
Will you attack me viciously in the nether regions afterwards?

Sarah Barnaby:
Quite possibly.

DCI John Barnaby:
[eagerly] You're on!

[first lines]

Patrick Morgan:
There we go. You're a beauty, aren't you?

George Napier:
He'd better turn the volume down. It's the duck that quacks loudest gets shot.

DS Ben Jones:
You don't think Nina Morgan would go for someone as rough as Dave Foxely, sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
Ever read 'Lady Chatterley's Lover', Jones?

DS Ben Jones:
Only... bits.

Olivia Carter:
You know it was Ralph Ford who did it.

DCI John Barnaby:
Do I?

Olivia Carter:
The man's crazy as a coot. He'd kill to get his hands on that cup. Rip your throat out to win the prize.

DCI John Barnaby:
And there was me thinking that birdwatching was such an innocent pastime.

Olivia Carter:
It's not a pastime, Inspector; it's a religion. Birders are a bunch of jealous, self-centred maniacs. They'd cancel their own wedding for the glimpse of a rare bird.

Michael Hipsman:
You're welcome to browse. I have a very good crime fiction section.

DS Ben Jones:
I've enough of the real thing. Thank you.

DCI John Barnaby:
I was thinking of something rather more, um, spiritual; something of the unattainable object of desire.

DS Ben Jones:
Out of my depth there, sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
Jones, you'd be out of your depth in a puddle.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
Cheers, Jones. Well done.

DS Ben Jones:
To a very rare bird.

DCI John Barnaby:
Th the beautiful Nina, who for a moment there was almost a dying swan.

DS Ben Jones:
I didn't mean Nina. I meant our feathered friend.

DCI John Barnaby:
Aaah, of course, to her. To the blue-crested hoopoe, s very rare bird indeed.

Ralph Ford:
I'm a vegetarian.

DCI John Barnaby:
I don't quite see the relevance of that.

Ralph Ford:
I'm just saying as a vegetarian I could never put a living corpse into my mouth, chew its hacked flesh, swallow the juices of its death wounds.

DCI John Barnaby:
We're not accusing you of eating him, Mr. Ford.

DCI John Barnaby:
How many nuns does it take to form a community?

DS Ben Jones:
Is this one of those jokes? "How many folk singers does it take to change a lightbulb"?

DCI John Barnaby:
I don't *do* jokes, Jones.

DS Ben Jones:
No, sir. I noticed.

[first lines]

Duncan Hendred:
See anything?

Tamsin Bickford:
Nothing.

DCI John Barnaby:
Nuns don't just up and kill other nuns.

Kate Wilding:
Oh, I wouldn't put anything past that lot. Holy Crows we used to call them. Top class convent education, John. Made me what I am today.

DCI John Barnaby:
Which is?

Kate Wilding:
A rationalist and an atheist.

[last lines]

Sister Catherine:
Mother Thomas's death was a tragedy, but the convent will survive.

DCI John Barnaby:
Do you really think so? How are you going to attract fresh blood in today's world? Sorry, bad choice of words.

Sister Catherine:
As we always have: the work, and praying, and have faith. Who knows? Maybe Sergeant Jones will find he has a vocation.

Murdoch:
Is it true a local man is helping with your enquiries?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, if he is it'll be a first.

[first lines]

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome. Welcome to the opening ceremony of the Ellis Bell Satanic Experience. Now, 120 years ago to this very day, a young man named Ellis Bell walked out of that house, along that footpath and into that summerhouse. There he wrote a book that would put our much-loved village of Upper Warden on the map. The book was called "The House of Satan", now, as we all know, a major movie.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
This your bookmark?

Joyce Barnaby:
Probably.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, no, it's not. Danny's meatball recipe.

Joyce Barnaby:
[sighs] He seemed a nice boy.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh yeah, everybody liked him.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[they have just turned uphill at a T-junction] Stop, Troy, stop. We go down the hill, Troy.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
I thought we were going to Upper Warden.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, we are. [points to signpost] Upper Warden is down the hill; Lower Warden is up the hill

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
That doesn't make any sense.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Troy, this is Midsomer.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Sorry. I forgot.

Frank Webster:
[seeing Barnaby approach] Here comes the Bogeyman!

Frank Webster:
[referring to his family traditions] ... the youngest goes off to the Crusades, but I decided to join the Godless infidels and became a movie producer.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You produced "The House of Satan."

Frank Webster:
The highest grossing U.K.-financed movie of the last decade.

Simon Smythe-Webster:
Gross is an appropriate word.

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
It's God's will, Simon.

Simon Smythe-Webster:
No, it isn't. It's your will.

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
In Upper Warden it's all the same thing.

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
I wonder if you realize the full tragic irony of today's whole sorry business.

Danny Pinchel:
Well, gettin' blown up's got to be a bit tragic.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I've been bullied by the media into holding a press conference. Would you mind taking part please?

Frank Webster:
My pleasure. All publicity is good publicity.

Jack Wilson:
We're talking about Upper Warden and Lower Warden... We've been murdering each other here since the time of Cromwell. We're not going to change now!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I have to ask the obvious question. Did your brother Frank have any enemies?

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
Apparently. Otherwise he'd still be alive.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[contemptuously to Murdoch] You finished here?

Murdoch:
You have a statement for the press?

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Yeah! Push off!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[as they are walking] I'm told that you and Sarah Proudie from Upper Warden were once, if you'll pardon the expression, an item.

Rupert Smythe-Webster:
[he stops in his tracks] My God! You have been dredging, haven't you?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, there seems an awful lot to dredge in these parts.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I thought the point of women's emancipation is you didn't have to do the men's dirty washing.

Sarah Proudie:
I didn't reject the Bible without reading it first. What sort of woman do you think I am?

Jack Wilson:
Back to normal then.

Darren:
Normal's a bit weird around here, isn't it Mr. Wilson?

Jack Wilson:
No, Darren, weird's another place.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Surely he tested the door if his life depended on it.

Sgt Gavin Troy:
Maybe it didn't occur to him.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well he'd have been very stupid not to have double-checked that, wouldn't he?

Sgt Gavin Troy:
Well, there's nothing to say murderers have to be members of Mensa, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Do you see a lesson in all of this?

Sgt Gavin Troy:
Always follow your first instinct.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I couldn't help noticing the Vegetarian Society magazine. Are you a member?

Angela Goff:
Yes. Why?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Just curious. I know your husband was a keen fisherman and did a bit of shooting.

Angela Goff:
We had a 'live and let live' household.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You didn't eat the trout he caught then?

Angela Goff:
Fish may not be the cleverest of God's creatures, but to class them as vegetables is a little unkind.

Sgt Gavin Troy:
[motions to trout found beside murder victims] Looks like his cause of death was pretty similar.

Joyce Barnaby:
Oh look! So sweet! The children look lovely in those huge bonnets. [laughing] They're so serious.

Cully Barnaby:
With good reason. They're in the work house. Most of them will probably never reach adulthood.

Joyce Barnaby:
Well! This one looks cheery. What are they celebrating?

Cully Barnaby:
The end of the first world war...

[Nadia Simons, a wine connoisseur, is giving her verdict at a tasting of Carnarvon Estate's new wine]

Nadia Simons:
Ladies and gentlemen. I have tasted some great English wines in my time... Unfortunately this is not one of them. It's cloyingly sweet with no discernible complexity of flavour. I suppose I'd drink it at a wedding but I certainly wouldn't insult the bride by toasting her with it.

William Carnarvon:
Good heavens, how can you say that?

Nadia Simons:
Sorry, William. Better luck next time.

Ryan Carnarvon:
[Matilda Stowe suddenly collapses] Grandma, grandma!

Diana Carnarvon:
Mum, mum.

William Carnarvon:
Matilda, you all right? , [many of the guests collapse]

Nadia Simons:
[drily, to herself] Everyone's a critic!

[first lines]

Kevin Paynton:
Mr Carnarvon.

William Carnarvon:
Kevin, I can see a lot of empty glasses; please make sure that everyone's topped up. Good lad.

Kevin Paynton:
Absolutely. Thank you.

William Carnarvon:
Thank you.

Elspeth Rice:
What if it doesn't rain?

Kevin Paynton:
It's England; it always rains.

[last lines]

Kate Wilding:
[clicking glasses with Sarah Barnaby] Cheers.

[leaving courthouse]

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Where do they get these judges from? The man burgled his way through every village in the county.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Look, we catch the criminals; we offer up the evidence. Not everyone likes what happens in court. Maybe the judge was right; give the boy one more chance. Oh, look. A squadron of pigs over Causton.

[Barnaby and Sergeant Scott are looking at a brutally slain murder victim]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
By the way, welcome to Midsomer!

Mary Pearce:
Maybe we should wish a few more people dead - seems to do the trick.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Where I come from, Open Garden Day is when someone breaks into your shed.

[first lines]

Gary Thompson:
I checked your bank statement, didn't I. That's how I know.

Fiona Thompson:
You couldn't have. We don't get a bank statement till the end of the month.

Gary Thompson:
Do you realize we're on the verge of bankruptcy?

Fiona Thompson:
I have to be allowed to spend at least a little bit of money on myself occasionally, just even to come here tonight. How was I going to go like this? How was I going to do anything? Nothing. I couldn't have done anything.

Gary Thompson:
All right, will you keep your voice down. We're in a public place. Anyway, you might like to know that I went to see the bank manager this morning and I got photocopies of all your statements. That's how I know.

Fiona Thompson:
You bastard.

Gary Thompson:
Well, that's it. I put a freeze on everything; no more money.

Fiona Thompson:
Well, screw you.

[last lines]

Cully Barnaby:
I've invited you all here because I didn't want to cancel, and I didn't want to come here alone. So...

Joyce Barnaby:
That's understandable.

Cully Barnaby:
Will you join me in a toast? To absent friends.

[they clink glasses]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
To absent friends,

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Is ah... is this it sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[looks around at his surroundings] I... I'm afraid it is.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
What do they call this beer?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Real.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[sarcastically] Well there can't be that many door-to-door knife grinders around these days, can there?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Nearest I ever got to a garden was a window box, and then someone nicked that.

Angela Hartley:
I shall have to sell Bantling Hall to settle my husband's debts. It's been in the family 500 years. Devastating loss!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
More devastating than the loss of your son?

Angela Hartley:
Frankly, Inspector, yes.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
When did you last see Bruce Hartley?

Dr Osgood:
At Causton Races... French-kissing a bottle of champagne, a bit chateaued I'm afraid.

Peter Craxton:
[to Barnaby about computer game violence] If all the killing in the world was only a game, nobody would ever be hurt, would they?

Trevor Machin:
Death's a cost of living for all of us, isn't it?

Angela Hartley:
Don't raise your voice in my kitchen! I will not change my mind!

Sam Tate:
Oh, yes, you will, Angela. Only fools and the departed never change their minds.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Trevor Machin. Lives in a wheelchair - has got breath like a badger.

[first lines]

Peter Craxton:
Unhand the maid, or perish.

Geoffrey:
Never! I'll unhorse you here.

Cully Barnaby:
I have an audition.

Joyce Barnaby:
Ah, that's great, Cully. What is it?

Cully Barnaby:
Oh, to play Hero.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Shouldn't that be 'heroine'?

Cully Barnaby:
No, Dad. Hero's a woman. Shakespeare. "Much Ado about Nothing."

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Let's hope this time it isn't.

[last lines]

[the radio announces Bantling Boy's win]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes!

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Have you had a bet on, Sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I have, Scott. I've made myself a nice little killing.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
[to a dog] You are sitting in my chair. And you're probably wearing my socks, aren't you, eh?

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
Rule number... where are we up to now?

Nico:
Uh, seven, sir.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
Rule number seven. Never use the indicator. Keeps the other drivers on their toes. Is that right, Troy?

[first lines]

Alan Bradford:
By 3:30 that afternoon, August the 1st, 1644, the fighting was over.

[last lines]

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
Ghost! What's the world coming to, Joyce? Half a paragraph on the crime, and a whole page on something that doesn't exist.

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
Nice lad, but get a load of this - he's gonna get paid more for playing me than I am for being me.

Anne Quarritch:
What can I get you?

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
I'll have a long straight answer.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Joyce, what have you done?

Joyce Barnaby:
Since you were never going to look seriously at the brochures, I took the dates, and Cully did it. We're booked. We're going to Botswana in April.

[passes him the brochure]

Joyce Barnaby:
Here's to our holiday.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Joyce, looks as if these people are sitting on top of an elephant.

Joyce Barnaby:
That's right. It's an elephant-back safari. Won't it be wonderful! Cheers.

[first lines]

George Hamilton:
As long as George is kept out of the way and no-one sees him in a week, we'll all be done.

Mallory Edmonton:
That phone never stops ringing.

George Hamilton:
Oh, refer them to me; I'll handle it.

Mallory Edmonton:
You handling Julian Shepherd?

George Hamilton:
Let's just ignore him.

Mallory Edmonton:
No, he's making trouble, George; I don't want anything to go wrong.

George Hamilton:
All right. I'll see to it.

[Jones is interviewing guests at the wedding]

DS Ben Jones:
If I could start with you, Mr Colk-key-hown.

[stunned silence]

DS Ben Jones:
Mr Colk-key-hown?

Randall Colquhoun:
[patronisingly] It's pronounced "Co-hoon".

DS Ben Jones:
You're the best man, I gather.

Randall Colquhoun:
I *was*.

DS Ben Jones:
A friend of the family, then?

Randall Colquhoun:
No, sworn enemy! What do *you* think?

Harry Fitzroy:
Look, we have family matters to discuss. Do we really have to do this now?

DS Ben Jones:
Yes. And I'll also need to talk to the vicar who was just here.

Harry Fitzroy:
Who? Uncle Marcus?

DS Ben Jones:
But I'm happy to start with you - and Mr Colk-key-hown.

DS Ben Jones:
Not very talkative, are they, the Fitzroys?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Old families, Jones. In a house this size there are many cupboards.

DS Ben Jones:
And many skeletons.

Sally Fielding:
You've got a very suspicious mind.

DS Ben Jones:
I'm a police officer. 'Suspicious mind' is on my CV.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You OK?

Cully Barnaby:
Can't see a bloody thing.

[first lines]

Young Peggy Benson:
Bear down. Push. Push down.

DS Ben Jones:
Been getting a lot of this 'Upstairs, Downstairs' stuff, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[as Dr Bullard shows him a photo] Old families, old secrets.

DS Ben Jones:
[to Barnaby] It's typical of the upper classes. If it's not fox hunting or polo, it's sex.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Jones] Spread a little panic. You're good at that.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
[seeing Troy] What news from the front?

[last lines]

Cully Barnaby:
He's doing coq au vin with bread and butter pudding.

[first lines]

Mary Morgan:
[screams loudly then runs outside] Help! Help me! He's murdered Danny! Help! Help!

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
You took a hell of a risk. He could have shot you as soon as you stepped into the yard.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, no no, Jones, that's not the way it works. He called me out, so he had to wait for me to draw first. Code of the West.

Fergal Jenner:
The local archive is a cross between a rat's nest and a teenager's bedroom.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Lipstick, Jones, lipstick. Sometimes more lethal than a bullet! Take a couple of potshots at him.

DS Ben Jones:
They're blanks.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, we know that, but he doesn't

Jack Fincher:
Private matter.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Murder has just been committed. Nothing is private.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
The local archive is a cross between a rat's nest and a teenager's bedroom.

Fergal Jenner:
[to Fincher] Who are you... Butch Cassidy or the Sundance Kid?

Faye Lennox:
[Talking to Fincher as she kisses him] Is that a gun in your holster, or are you justr pleased to see me?

Susan Fincher:
[to Burbage] You're a fool, but I don't think you're a murderous fool.

Adam Burbage:
My father would never kill a man. It's not in his nature.

Adam Burbage:
You can't imagine how many times I've heard that said. Thank you.

DC Gail Stephens:
Sarge, there's trouble at the Last Chance Saloon.

DS Ben Jones:
There would be! Yes.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Tell me Mr. Burbage; what is it all about? What is this fascination with the Old West, then?

Adam Burbage:
Life's dull, don't you think? One thing after another. Then you die. A bit of romance. A bit of adventure. A bit of fantasy, if you like. Why not?

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Who wants to live to be 89?

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
Somone who's 88.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Funnily enough, Rose Southerly once asked *me* if I'd like to help out at the cookery school.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Doing what, exactly?

Joyce Barnaby:
I'm not sure. I wouldn't want to act out that perfect wife stuff; God knows I get enough of that at home. And I couldn't do Celia Patchett's damsel in distress act. Ugh, so demeaning. But Ginny Lamington's routine, dishing out a bit of discipline, *that* I could handle.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Really?

Rev. Suze:
It's so important to talk things through without being judged, I think.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I do so agree. I was hoping that, uh, we could talk through the fact that you didn't tell us you went for a jog on Monday afternoon.

Rev. Suze:
Oh God, I knew this would happen.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I'm sure God knows all about it, but I don't.

Rose Southerly:
You must have a very low opinion of me, Inspector.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, I'm a policeman, Mrs. Southerly. I leave the judging to someone else.

Rev. Suze:
I'm pretty oblivious when I'm jogging.

[Pointing skyward]

Rev. Suze:
Quality time with the boss, you see.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Sorry?

Rev. Suze:
[Condescendingly] Prayer, Inspector. We still do it, you know.

[to Jones and Barnaby as she starts off]

Rev. Suze:
Catch you later, guys.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Deadpan] Yes. Catch you later.

Cully Barnaby:
Where's Dad's investigation taking place at the moment?

Joyce Barnaby:
Some village or other.

Cully Barnaby:
You've been conned, Mum.

Joyce Barnaby:
What?

[Cully indicates Ben, then goes over to him]

DS Ben Jones:
Hi, Cully.

Cully Barnaby:
Don't tell me what you're doing here; I've already sussed it.

DS Ben Jones:
I'm undercover.

Cully Barnaby:
Yes, but your feet give you away.

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
I always wondered do postmen deliver their own letters?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Why does everyone in this village seem to be "at it?"

Owen August:
[resentful of questions] Look, whatever you think, this is my personal business you're prying into.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Your wife had affairs with two men. These two men are now dead, so what do you expect us to think?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[asking about his hill walking] Sure you don't come home after setting out, hide yourself away somewhere, and pretend you've been out on a walk?

Owen August:
Why would I do that?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Do you ever come home early?

Owen August:
[taking offense] Now, look...

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Not even on the odd occasion?

Owen August:
No, any wa...

Owen August:
[his eyes drop with embarrassment, he bites his lip, and laughs to himself ironically] I only return early when my wife is 'entertaining.'... I... like... to listen. She knows I like to listen... Is that a crime?

Janet Reason:
There's still some things of yours in the outhouse!

Simon Reason:
Yes, well, I haven't had time to clean them out, you know, Jan.

Janet Reason:
Then get off your ass and do it!

[first lines]

Robin Bingham:
Dad, please!

William Bingham:
Get out! [yells] Get! Out!

DCI John Barnaby:
I'm looking for case files from thirty-five years ago.

DS Ben Jones:
Anything over ten years old gets sent to the central files warehouse.

DCI John Barnaby:
Which is where?

DS Ben Jones:
Which is burnt down ten years ago.

DCI John Barnaby:
I love this place.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
How're things with your deputy?

Sarah Barnaby:
She's retiring.

DCI John Barnaby:
Really? Any particular reason?

Sarah Barnaby:
Not that she told me.

DCI John Barnaby:
Ah well. Probably for the best.

Sarah Barnaby:
She said she bumped into you the other day.

DCI John Barnaby:
Oh... yes.

Sarah Barnaby:
Do you have anything to tell me?

DCI John Barnaby:
[pause] No.

Gerry Dawkins:
[as he is being forced into his car by Stanton] Excuse me. We do have a zero tolerance policy towards verbal and physical abuse!

Eddie Stanton:
Come back here, you're gonna need it. Start paddling.

Selina Stanton:
[Sarcastically after Haskins pulls away in his car] Oh, very smart!

Selina Stanton:
[Referring to her parents] Do you really want them smeared all over the local papers?

Eddie Stanton:
Selina, shut up. There's a doll.

Selina Stanton:
I am not a doll.

Eddie Stanton:
That was irony.

Selina Stanton:
You couldn't even spell it.

Eddie Stanton:
[Inside their car as they drive away] Look, we have to stop slaggin' each other in front of people.

Selina Stanton:
Why?

Eddie Stanton:
Because we're a team. That's what I told the selection committee.

Selina Stanton:
No wonder they laughed.

DCI John Barnaby:
Is there any young woman round here you haven't dated?

DS Ben Jones:
Just looking for the right one. How did you know Mrs Barnaby was right for you?

DCI John Barnaby:
She told me. [He walks away]

DS Ben Jones:
[Aloud to himself] Ah, yeah.

DCI John Barnaby:
Childhood, Jones. Hang onto the poetry.

DCI John Barnaby:
Open mind, Jones. Murder is not the consequence of rational behavior.

DCI John Barnaby:
Jones...

DS Ben Jones:
Yes, sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
This circus... this death in the afternoon... what is it not about? It's not about me. Ergo, therefore in parallel... hmmm?

DS Ben Jones:
[Starting to understand his point] It's not about me either.

DCI John Barnaby:
It's about mechanics, logistics, evidence, and what sort of salad we make of those wonderful ingredients.

DCI John Barnaby:
[Barnaby walks away as the lesson sinks in] Fine, fine... make me feel better then.

CS John Cotton:
You've had a similar incident of arson recently.

DS Ben Jones:
Yeah, that'll be...

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Polter, the pyromaniac. I'm fairly sure it wasn't him.

CS John Cotton:
Fuzzy logic, Tom. Gut instinct can let you down; systems won't.

DS Ben Jones:
We banged Polter up last Wednesday, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Jones.

DS Ben Jones:
Yes, sir!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I'm not going to get you tarred and feathered and sent to traffic, all right?

DS Ben Jones:
You're not?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No.

DS Ben Jones:
I thought I'd dropped you in it with the Boy Wonder, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, yes, you did. But your candour merely hastens the inevitable.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Layla. We'd like a word about James Parkes.

Layla Barkham:
Hm. One word: bastard.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
More would be better.

Layla Barkham:
Lying, devious bastard.

Matt Parkes:
Don't you realize, Son, everything comes with a cost. Sooner or later someone...

James Parkes:
You still don't get it, do you, dad? All your truth, honour, loyalty and morals crap... It's the bastards who get what they want in this world, not the good guys.

Caroline Halsey:
You can't think I'm the only soul round here that wishes you a terrifying comeuppance.

James Parkes:
Screw you, Grandma!

Tim Galsworthy:
[to Barnaby] Revenge is a very poor remedy for loss.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
The cleverest lies, Jones, are those we're already inclined to believe.

Caroline Halsey:
[to Barnaby] The difference between a parent's love and a grandparent's is that a grandparent's is not unconditional.

DS Ben Jones:
[Wearing a blindfold] Can't see a thing!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Sarcastically] Something to do with wearing a blindfold.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You are a man of conspicuous loyalty, Sgt. Barkham, but you are a lousy liar.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Blame, in my experience, can be an emotional, rather than a rational, reaction.

DS Ben Jones:
Don't look now, sir, but we're being watched.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Where?

DS Ben Jones:
One o'clock. Big man in red.

[Barnaby looks in the direction and sees a plastic Santa on the roof of a house]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[sarcastically] Oh, you're full of fun today, Jones.

[first lines]

James Parkes:
Now stay there one moment.

DS Ben Jones:
You're being bailed, not released, Mr Parkes. Better stay out of trouble.

James Parkes:
Is that an official warning or a personal threat?

DS Ben Jones:
Both.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
We *have*, as a result of good teamwork, put the murderer behind bars.

CS John Cotton:
So I'd heard. Well done.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You may not be as pleased when you see the overtime figures, Sir, in the new year; we've been filling in your time-sheets.

[Barnaby joins the carollers in singing 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen']

DS Ben Jones:
Well, that's my Christmas Eve stuffed the wrong way up the chimney, sir. How about yours?

Ursula Gooding:
[cruelly to April] He has a pick of all the women in the village. Why would he bother with you?

DC Ben Jones:
She died of natural causes, sir, or do you think we've got some seriously dodgy doctor on our hands?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, he's not like any doctor I've ever known, and he knows much more than he's told us.

Ron Chalk:
Hey, do you have to flaunt yourself in front of every horny bastard who comes into this pub?

Ruth Chalk:
I do not flaunt myself. I'm just being me, that's all.

Grace Starkey:
Why have you never married?

Dr. Wellow:
[takes a drag on his marijuana joint] Not my idea of a healthy lifestyle.

April Gooding:
[in her girl scout-type uniform] Afternoon, doctor.

Dr. Wellow:
Oh, hello, April. Now, I *do* like a girl in uniform.

John Starkey:
[to Ruth] I don't mind sharing you with your husband, but I won't share you with anyone else.

Grace Starkey:
[to John] You're not as funny as you think you are. You don't really make people laugh. Oh, they like to laugh AT you. They like doin' that. You see, you're not really the joker... you're the joke.

[first lines]

Voice:
You know you've got to do it. She'd want that, wouldn't she? You know she would. So, now's the time, isn't it? You must do it now, for her sake. You know she's waiting for you. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for you to join her. So don't keep her waiting too long. Waiting. Waiting for you to join her. Do it now. Do it now.

Ruth Chalk:
So what are you doing for the carnival procession this year, Doctor?

Dr. Wellow:
Nothing. But if you want to go as Lady Godiva, I'll be Peeping Tom. I'd like that.

Ruth Chalk:
My hair's too short.

Dr. Wellow:
It's not your hair I'll be looking at.

[last lines]

DC Ben Jones:
Sounds like life goes on in Midsomer Barton.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Every time I go into any Midsomer village it's always the same thing: blackmail, sexual deviances, suicide, and murder. How could you possibly expect me to go and live in one of them?

[Barnaby and Troy have just spotted Joyce Barnaby house hunting]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, please Lord. Not Fletcher's Cross.

Philip Trent:
Murder? Are you sure?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, I don't think he hit himself on the head, Mr Trent.

Clare Bonavita:
[discussing the victim, Guy Sweetman] You know, Guy really did live up to his surname. He was the sweetest man.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, whoever killed him disagreed with you.

Philip Trent:
Been any help, Inspector?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, most things people tell us are of help, Mr Trent - even if they don't mean them to be.

[first lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh no. The world and his wife's here.

Cully Barnaby:
Kind of the idea, Dad. Couple of drinks, though, and you won't notice them.

Joyce Barnaby:
[referring to passing yacht] Now that's the sort of thing, Tom. Only maybe more old-fashioned and stylish.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, that'll be it. Your mother thinks I need to relax more; weekends on the river, our own boat perhaps.

Cully Barnaby:
It's a good idea. D'you know, there's loads for sale in the local paper.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Is this a conspiracy? In my job you get ten years for that.

Cully Barnaby:
Typical family day out, really. We arrive somewhere and ten minutes later a serious crime is committed. Exit the old man.

Joyce Barnaby:
I think he plans it that way.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to a rat] Thank you.

Cully Barnaby:
Right, the home team. Furthest from us: Midsomer Rowing Club Veterans.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[puts opera glasses to his eyes] They're not veterans! They're half our age! Joyce!

[Joyce Barnaby and Cully Barnaby are looking over the boats as they walk along the riverside]

Joyce Barnaby:
That one would be too modern for your father. He'll want brass and mahogany everywhere. [spies a decrepit old yacht] Like that one for example.

Cully Barnaby:
It's a bit tatty, mom.

Joyce Barnaby:
Oh... Nothing a coat of varnish won't cure!

[DCI Tom Barnaby and Sergeant Dan Scott are stopped by a riverbank]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
How do we get across, Sergeant?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Well, one of us is going to have to row, sir. [under his breath] And the smart money's on me.

[DCI Tom Barnaby and Sergeant Dan Scott set up a surveillance post in the Stevens' house]

Mr Stevens:
So, what's the form?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Uh, well there'll be someone here, round the clock, starting this evening.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I expect Sergeant Scott'll want to take the first watch.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[dejectedly] Oh yes. Of course...

[Barnaby and Scott are in Barnaby's Rover 75]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Where are we going sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
To see Mr. Cooke with an "e".

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Oh, good! [cracks his knuckles]

[Barnaby takes notice of what Scott has done, and pulls the car off the main road]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
What's wrong?

[Barnaby stops the car, and sets the parking brake with authority]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[speaks in a low, serious tone] Scott, there will be no violence on my watch.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
No, I was just, um...

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[cutting Scott off] None whatsoever.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Yes sir.

[Barnaby joins Scott in the surveillance post]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Why are you here sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
It's a generational thing, Scott. I've brought you some cake... and some coffee.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Oh.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I thought you might have grown a tad peckish.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Thank you sir. I'm going to try and eat it before the relief turns up. [begins to eat]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Did Mrs. Barnaby make this?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[in a grave tone] Oh, I wouldn't do that to you, Scott.

[Scott chuckles, and takes a big bite of cake]

[DCI Tom Barnaby is at home, watching a confiscated pornographic videotape, when Joyce Barnaby enters]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I think you're a bit young to be watching this.

Joyce Barnaby:
Where's this come from?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
This?... Um... Some oik is using this to blackmail one of our suspects. Suspect playing the lead.

[Tom and Joyce Barnaby crane their necks in unison, following the on-screen action]

Joyce Barnaby:
Is that him?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
That's him. [They continue watching with rapt attention]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Early night? [Joyce giggles]

[first lines]

Delyth Mostyn:
So, my fellow foot-sloggers, this is the plan. We make an early start from Causton and have lunch here at Beddgelert. Then we drive to Gorffwysfa and descending by the Miner's Track we go past Llyn Teryn and Llyn Llydaw, and then we tackle the giant himself: Yr Wyddfa.

Clifford Rawnsley:
I thought we were going to Snowdon.

[several people laugh]

Dorothy Hutton:
You know the route well, then, Delyth?

Delyth Mostyn:
As a girl, according to my father, I was up and down it like a yo-yo.

Clifford Rawnsley:
So, this trip's a bit of a pilgrimage for you, is it?

Delyth Mostyn:
I suppose so. Fond memories. Most of them.

[talking about Tom Barnaby]

Simon Dixon:
I'd just like to put a smile on his face. Does he ever smile?

Cully Barnaby:
Not for *many* boyfriends, no. Father of only daughter in one corner. Serious contender in the other. Could get nasty.

DS Ben Jones:
I don't go there for three years, then twice in one week. I might get fond of the place. Apply for a transfer.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, don't say that, Jones. Got enough on me plate without losing you.

DS Ben Jones:
That could almost have been a compliment.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Almost.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Supper in ten minutes.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, make that half an hour; Simon and I are going to the Crown for a pint. Come on, young sir.

Cully Barnaby:
[to Joyce] Now, that is what I call a result.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
This patio may prove more expensive than I thought. Thank you.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Mrs. Hutton, how's the rat population in your neck of the woods then?

Dorothy Hutton:
Dwindling.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Right, Jones. Hands out of your pockets, comb your hair, straighten your tie! We have been summoned!

[first lines]

Gentleman in carriage:
Oh, Miss! [opens carriage door] Can I be of some assistance? It's late, and you seem unsure of your way.

Young Stella:
Thank you. I'm quite all right.

Gentleman in carriage:
Come; it's a filthy night. [Stella gets in] You do right to be cautious my child, but you can trust me. I am the Marquis of Graydon. Such a pretty young thing, and though your beauty may never fade... [bares his fangs]

Young Stella:
Open the door. I want to get out. Please.

Gentleman in carriage:
Hush, child. Hush.

Kate Wilding:
We're late.

DCI John Barnaby:
Yes, but what are we late for?

Kate Wilding:
[Kate indicates the Film Festival banner]

DCI John Barnaby:
Oh, you are truly perfect!

Kate Wilding:
Can I have that in writing?

Kate Wilding:
I would say that she's been stabbed once with a two-pronged instrument, probably steel.

DS Ben Jones:
Not a vampire bite,then. [to Barnaby] You must be disappointed.

DCI John Barnaby:
But somebody wanted to make it look like one. It's as if they want us to make a connection with the film.

DS Ben Jones:
So, who did it in the film?

Kate Wilding:
A 300-year-old nobleman, who can only drink the blood of virgins.

DS Ben Jones:
Ah, well, I'll keep a lookout.

Rosie Harris:
It's amazing.

Stella Harris:
Indeed. Less than twenty-four hours and you've made the place look like a bordello.

Rosie Harris:
Gran!

Diana Davenport:
Well, you should know.

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
You were right all along about the movies being the key, sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
Ah, I take no pleasure from that, Jones; I'm never going to be able to watch them again.

DS Ben Jones:
What about 'The Matrix', sir? Now, there's a good movie. Wow, talk ab...

DCI John Barnaby:
No.

DS Ben Jones:
You know your trouble, sir?

DS Ben Jones:
What?

DS Ben Jones:
You're a film snob.

DCI John Barnaby:
Oh, Jones!

[first lines]

Connor Simpson:
[answering his mobile] Hello.

Connor Simpson:
Where are you? I've been waiting.

Connor Simpson:
Wh-why not sa-say...

Connor Simpson:
OK. OK, all right. Call me later when you get the chance.

DC Ben Jones:
Do you think there was some tension between Mr and Mrs Barker?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, just a bit. She'd been crying.

DC Ben Jones:
How could you tell?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I've been married a long time, Jones.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[about the dinner party] What are you giving them?

Joyce Barnaby:
Haven't decided yet. Osso buco and sweetbreads perhaps.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What, bones and offal? Doesn't George get enough of that at work?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[after discovering a woman's negligee in the dead man's closet] Looks as if our Mr Simpson had a more complicated life than anyone imagined!

DC Ben Jones:
Crime of passion?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, people in love do do desperate things.

DC Ben Jones:
It's as if he didn't exist before he moved to Midsomer Worthy.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And now someone burgles the dead man's cottage.

DC Ben Jones:
Looking for what?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Every man keeps something of his past, Jones.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[as Jones stands by their car sopping wet after being pushed into a pond] What are you waiting for?

DC Ben Jones:
A drying wind.

[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:
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:
Anything to worry about?

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

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Who's this character you're playing?

Cully Barnaby:
Varya.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And what is she?

Cully Barnaby:
She is Madam Ranevsky's eldest daughter; wants to join a convent to become a nun, and has got a thing about needing to be helpful, but in fact just ends up driving everybody mad.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And the director thought that was you?

Cully Barnaby:
Yup.

[they both laugh]

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Is that a tear?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, I was just wondering how I might feel if I went in tomorrow morning and asked for a few days leave.

Joyce Barnaby:
Leave!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, just you and me together go away somewhere for a while.

Joyce Barnaby:
You mean somewhere like... Bournemouth?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, I don't mean somewhere like Bournemouth. I thought, if they're going away to New Zealand for a honeymoon, why don't we beat them to it?

Dr Wyatt:
Seen anything of Jack Colby, Bob?

Bob Walker:
[disdainfully] You seen me lookin'?

Gina Colby:
Tom, I want you to find the evil bastard who did this, then lock him up and throw away the key.

Angie Walker:
[to Tom] well, this all started a month ago. Loneliness and Southern Comfort at three o'clock in the morning, Chief Inspector. It's a heady mix.

DS Ben Jones:
[Referring to Poulter] I'm guessing he's not so much Royal Mail as blackmail.

DS Ben Jones:
You know what I realized?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What do you realize?

DS Ben Jones:
We caught the woman who put the psycho into psychotherapy.

Angie Walker:
And what's that supposed to mean?

Bob Walker:
It means I wasn't born yesterday.

Angie Walker:
[bitterly] Well, more's the pity, Bob. We could have started building your personality from scratch.

[last lines]

[SPOILER ALERT!]

[DCI Barnaby confronts the murderer who strings him up from the rafters of a barn and prepares to kill him. DS Jones gets there just in the nick of time and pushes the murderer to the floor]

DCI John Barnaby:
Ahem.

DS Ben Jones:
[Jones looks upwards and sees Barnaby. He suppresses a smirk] Oh.

DCI John Barnaby:
Have you killed him?

[Jones checks for a pulse]

DS Ben Jones:
No.

DCI John Barnaby:
Good.

DS Ben Jones:
Should I, uh...

[Jones mimes taking photographs]

DCI John Barnaby:
Get me down?

DS Ben Jones:
You know, I should get some photos of the crime scene.

DCI John Barnaby:
Not if you ever want to have children.

[later, Barnaby and Jones are walking to the car]

DCI John Barnaby:
Tom said you were the right stuff.

DS Ben Jones:
Thank you, Sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
Of course, if word of my, um, "suspension" ever gets out...

DS Ben Jones:
Oh I don't suppose it will, Sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
Good.

DS Ben Jones:
Not while my career maintains its steady upward trajectory.

[they both chuckle]

[Jones catches Barnaby talking to his dog about the murder case]

DCI John Barnaby:
Ah, Jones. Can I help?

DS Ben Jones:
[diffidently] Sorry, I thought you were talking to someone.

DCI John Barnaby:
I was talking to this dog. He's a Sprechhund - that's German for a dog you talk to.

Dave Doggy Day:
[a girls lacrosse team runs past. Dave recognises one of them] Yo Jazz! Yo Jazz, is that you?

[One girl stops and cringes]

Dave Doggy Day:
Oh my days, it is you. What are you doing all dressed up like a St Trinian girl? Or is a party here?

[She looks at him and smiles]

Dave Doggy Day:
Oh my days, you're still in school, innit? You're a bad girl. It's alright, it's alright, your secret's safe with me. I won't say a word to no-one about nothing.

[She runs off and he breathes a sigh of relief]

Dave Doggy Day:
[to himself] She said she was 25, your Honour.

DS Ben Jones:
The DCI was on holiday so I was running things.

DCI John Barnaby:
Tom took a holiday?

DS Ben Jones:
Joyce threatened him.

DS Ben Jones:
Poor kid. Still, family money, good lawyer, should see her right.

DCI John Barnaby:
Are you serious? She's lying through her perfect little teeth.

DS Ben Jones:
Really?

DCI John Barnaby:
Yes!

DS Ben Jones:
Well, she seemed genuine to me.

DCI John Barnaby:
That is because she is a pretty girl, and you are a young man and your brains are still in your trousers.

DS Ben Jones:
Thank you, sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
I, on the other hand, being a dessicated old goat, don't fall for that crapola for one second.

DS Ben Jones:
Oh, good.

DCI John Barnaby:
I hate coincidences.

DS Ben Jones:
So did your predecessor.

DCI John Barnaby:
Right. He taught me: John, if it smells...

DS Ben Jones:
it's probably off.

Jamie Cameron:
[about his ex-wife] She was always saying I was nothing compared to daddy. That's how she judges everyone, by their tangible successes, never by their character or their common decency.

Jamie Cameron:
And do you know a lot about common decency?

Jamie Cameron:
I'm learning. [smiles] Taking lessons, actually.

DCI John Barnaby:
It isn't always the poor preying on the rich. Sometimes the water runs uphill.

DS Ben Jones:
Sorry?

DCI John Barnaby:
Lao-tzu. He founded Taoism.

DS Ben Jones:
Not around here, he didn't.

Harriet Wingate:
[after being confronted with a past sexual indiscretion] It was the Sixties.

DCI John Barnaby:
How many times have I heard that as an excuse for interesting behavior.

DCI John Barnaby:
[Sarcastically, after Charlotte has acted cattily] Charming girl!

Kate Cameron:
[Proudly] She's got balls... unlike her father.

DS Ben Jones:
[to Barnaby about the school] The place isn't too bad. Only a handful of idiots.

DS Ben Jones:
Are you interested in classic cars, sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
Only if it's got a flashing light and gets me home quickly,

DS Ben Jones:
[after Jessica has shown them both a dvd of her having sex] I feel terrible. I virtually told her she was a slag.

DCI John Barnaby:
Well, we all can't be sensitive, caring, and diplomatic. Sometimes we're just woodentops.

Harriet Wingate:
[Knowingly to Jones] I know a girls' school is an irresistible magnet to young men. Eh, Jones? [She laughs] Ha-ha!

DCI John Barnaby:
Ahh, that's why. Here, look at that. [Shows picture to his dog] He was only thirty, but half his hair was gone and the rest was ginger. Maybe it was suicide, after all.

[first lines]

D.C.I. Barnaby:
You'll give yourself indigestion.

Kitty Carmichael:
Want to know how he described your sex life? He said it was like humping a tranquilized cart horse.

Sergeant Troy:
It's good, this. I've never been to the theater before.

Cully Barnaby:
This isn't the theater, Gavin.

Avery Phillips:
This isn't like you, Tim.

Tim Young:
How do you know what's like me? I don't even know myself sometimes.

Kitty Carmichael:
I can't believe it. Who would do such a dreadful thing? Everyone liked Esslyn.

Avery Phillips:
Well, obviously not quite everyone, darling.

Sergeant Troy:
I suppose there's no way he could be in the frame, old Mr Tibbs?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Oh, for God's sake, Troy.

Sergeant Troy:
He *was* backstage.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
If that's all it takes, so was I.

Sergeant Troy:
Yeah, but you're not one sandwich short of a picnic.

Avery Phillips:
He hasn't always been gay. Me, I was making sequin jockstraps with Paddington when I was three.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Can you believe that anyone would commit murder for the sake of the theater?

[last lines]

D.C.I. Barnaby, Joyce Barnaby, Cully Barnaby, Nicholas Bentley:
The theater!

Sergeant Troy:
Blimey! fancy having that as your only living relative. No wonder she preferred to save the whales.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
What an utterly useless waste of a day!

Sergeant Troy:
Oh, I don't know, sir... We've cleared quite a few people out of the way.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
We've cleared so many people out of the way, we've got no suspects left!

[Troy has followed Reverend Wentworth to the church tower roof, to find the Reverend about to jump]

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Sir, don't do it!

Stephen Wentworth:
Of course I'm going to do it. I should have done it years ago.

[first lines]

Blindfolded Boy:
Simon! Simon! Simon, please! Simon, Simon. Agh!

[last lines]

Cully Barnaby:
Mum, Dad.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
Murder on the Orient Express? Been done.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
...and the kitchen staff can confirm that you were here?

Tristan Goodfellow:
...until 10:30, and then Julia Gooders can confirm I was in the meeting with her, so just when I was getting changed that I was alone - about 10 minutes.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
You didn't have any help from Mrs. Chambers then, sir?

Tristan Goodfellow:
Not on that particular occasions, but you're right, I do like Susan to undress me whenever possible. She's rather an expert.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[mildly shocked to see Salter answering the door clad only in a woman's apron] I'm not sure that's legal, sir.

Colin Salter:
A man can dress as he wishes in his own home.

D.C.I. Tom Barnaby:
[clearly uncomfortable] Would you mind putting something on, Mr. Salter, I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[rhetorically, after seeing Salter put an anti-theft boot on his steering wheel] Why is it that people who use that thing always drive cars that no thief would touch with a barge pole.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Mr. Florian, you arrived just in time, sir. We won't have to break your door down now.

Richard Florian:
Inspector, I'm, uh, I'm trying very hard to see a funny side to this, but it's eluding me.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
That's because there isn't one.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Are you saying that if slap came to tickle, you could vouch for each other?

Detective Constable Ben Jones:
Sounds good, sir; a trip to the seaside. Should we toss for it?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I already did. I won.

Ruby Wilmott:
[to Barnaby] About Martin? You ready? Martin Barrett was a mean, vicious, ugly sot, and I'm glad he cocked it!

Jack Fothergill:
Come on, Ruby, a spot of Christian charity surely.

Ruby Wilmott:
Why? Is it Sunday?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Viewing the murder scene] Nothing out of place - not even a mark on his blotter.

Detective Constable Ben Jones:
Yeah, well, who writes letters these days, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Who knows how to?

Detective Constable Ben Jones:
Why does this place make me feel uncomfortable, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Sarcastically] Oh, sensitive lad like you. Must be the body in the kitchen.

[first lines]

Martin Barrett:
Mrs Redfern?

Hayley Redfern:
Yes.

Martin Barrett:
How nice to meet you.

Hayley Redfern:
You mean you're Martin Barrett?

Martin Barrett:
Yes. I think we both expected someone a little different.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, well, well.

[to the murderer]

DCI John Barnaby:
Did you think you were doing God's work? Did you think you *were* God?

Liz Tomlin:
Would you like to adopt a donkey, Chief Inspector?

DCI John Barnaby:
Ah, no, thanks. [glances toward Jones] I've already got one.

Matt Rowntree:
[Bringing Sam a drink] So... where were you when your friend died, eh?

Sam Tomlin:
Me?

Matt Rowntree:
You see, that's your trouble, Sam. You're always so busy saving the whales and the rain forest, you're never around when you're needed.

DS Ben Jones:
[Leaving the pub, shaken after being put down by the Rowntrees] They're bad news!

DCI John Barnaby:
[Sarcastically] They speak well of you.

DCI John Barnaby:
Yeah, well, if I had a degree in psychology, I'd learn how to have things wash over me, but I can't.

DCI John Barnaby:
[Sarcastically] Oh, dear, I'm sorry to hear that.

DS Ben Jones:
[In a mocking tone after talking to a witness] Maidens chained to rocks? Now there's one for the psychologists!

DS Ben Jones:
[sighs disapprovingly] You know something, Jones?

DS Ben Jones:
Yes, sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
I spent a lot of my time and all of my savings to get my degree. It was important to me... and if it doesn't help me to understand you, it helps me to understand others. [He walks away]

Dr. Bullard:
[Visibly shaken after seeing the murdered elderly couple] There's no breathing space with this maniac!

DCI John Barnaby:
Maniac's the word. We're probably wasting our time lookin' for a rational explanation.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
You really don't have a soft pedal when it comes to the English language, do you, Troy?

[DCI Barnaby and Sgt. Troy are discussing the case while Troy is driving]

D.C.I. Barnaby:
I'll tell you what does frighten me though.

Sergeant Troy:
What's that?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Your driving has improved. I saw you look in the mirror.

Miranda Bedford:
Luke Archibald has found some loophole in the deeds whereby I can't use the drive of my own house.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, so that's the reason for the bad feeling between you two.

Carter Smith:
Tip o' the iceberg, my friend.

Clarky:
What'll it be?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, what do you recommend?

Clarky:
You have the look, sir, of an escapee from the Manor Spa.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, well, that's exactly what I am.

Clarky:
Then I advise a pint of Old Curmudgeon; five point one ABV, and it'll bring down a soya bean at two hundred yards.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, that sounds perfect.

Clarky:
And if you're peckish, we do a *Re*-tox menu.

Dr. Bullard:
[to Barnaby] Cheer up, Tom. Looks like you might have a murder after all.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
This is weird.

Cully Barnaby:
It is. So, Dad, what now?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What now? I'm going to have my cake and eat it.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Reading sign to Joyce] 'Your tranquility is ours.' What does that mean?

Julian Woodley:
[to Barnaby] I'm not a technology person. I'm a people person, and that's what this place needs - people skills.

Cloud:
You've got a birthday coming up.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Doesn't everybody?

Cloud:
If you want to see something clearly, you should look in the opposite direction. It's a zen thing.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Condescendingly] Of course, it is.

[first lines]

Roland Marwood:
I need a drink, Pa. Doc.

DC Ben Jones:
I thought you were keen to get off.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Not particularly. Mrs Barnaby's mother's staying for a couple of days.

DC Ben Jones:
Ah.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Cully's turning up, too. It'll be two days of lurid medical discussions, and the footie, if permitted at all, 'll be on the portable in the bedroom.

Muriel:
The society's still going strong, I believe, and the centrepiece is the Skimmington Ride.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
As I understand it, that ride is a barbaric medieval ritual, revived by the Skimmington ladies to humiliate their menfolk.

Muriel:
Yes. I'd really rather like to see it.

Cully Barnaby:
Unmissable.

Muriel:
There. That's settled.

[DC Jones has been collecting DNA samples]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Successful afternoon?

DC Ben Jones:
Like blood out of a stone, sir. And that was the easy bit.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Time to go.

Lorna Hastings:
Thank you.

Bystander:
He's been shot!

[Everyone turns to look at DCI Tom Barnaby, who is holding a starter's pistol]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well don't look at me!

[at a meeting in the village hall]

Naomi Inkpen:
If you were a *gentleman* you'd move to allow my daughter and I to sit together.

Augustus Deverell:
If you were a *lady* I shouldn't hesitate.

Susan Millard:
There *are* still some seats further back, Mrs Inkpen.

Naomi Inkpen:
Further back? I have not sat "further back" in my entire life.

Hilary Inkpen:
[showing her daughter and romantic rival a flower] Daniel just gave me this. Apparently you were making some kind of point about aging mothers. Well, you know what they say, dear, the old variety smells sweetest.

Naomi Inkpen:
[in a brittle manner] I can't bear being called Gram!

Naomi Inkpen:
[to her daughter and granddaughter] You have about as much 'noblesse oblige' as a fishwife in a brothel!

Daniel Bolt:
Any progress?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
We are pursuing several lines of inquiry, Mr. Bolt!

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[talking to Barnaby about the dead body in the garden]... I'd say a heavy blow with a blunt instrument. She's been dead overnight, stiff as a board and covered with snails.

Naomi Inkpen:
I find your manner and your insinuations extremely offensive.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[after a pause in which he measures his reaction] And I have to say, I'm not entirely overwhelmed by the courtesy of your reply.

Elspeth Inkpen-Thomas:
Maybe you're just keeping your options open?

Daniel Bolt:
What options?

Elspeth Inkpen-Thomas:
Well, there must be someone in the village you haven't slept with yet!

Naomi Inkpen:
What's the matter with you, seen a ghost?

Hilary Inkpen:
No...

Naomi Inkpen:
[superciliously] The dead don't walk, Hilary. They stay dead!

Daniel Bolt:
[Troy questioning the contents of a bottle in the greehouse] Insecticide!

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[after smelling it] Insecticide? How does it kill? Alcohol poisoning?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[going to his car] Do not feel just because it's Christmas, you can't give us a call, OK? Anything serious happens, I want to know about it, understood?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Yeah, got the message, sir. What are you looking for, an escape from the in-laws?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[turning around and giving him a knowing wink] Now, don't you overdo this evening, all right? Things have a habit of happening around Christmas time, and you may have to be razor sharp in the morning.

[first lines]

Jennifer Carter:
All right, let's see if this'll stay up this time, unlike last year. Will you check the mince pies? I want to get the brandy butter done in plenty of time.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Any chance of a mince pie, Joyce?

Joyce Barnaby:
In the oven. There's brandy butter and cream on the side.

Joyce Barnaby:
What do you think of the tree? They're really very realistic these days.

Mike Spicer:
You go right to hell!

Murderer:
I think you'll be getting there somewhat ahead of me.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You might be hurting a little bit too, Scott, once Zara is finished with you. I don't think that girl is as meek as you think she is.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Oh no, she's a, she's a shy one, sir. Bet you can tell. Anyway, I think being locked in the cellar all night by a triple murderer is a better excuse than saying the car broke down, there was no signal on the mobile. Oh, Zara...

Zara:
Before you say anything, I'm really sorry about last night, but the car broke down; I was stuck for hours.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
What?

Zara:
I did try my mobile, but I couldn't get a signal; it's just...

Sergeant Dan Scott:
That's okay. No worries. It's fine.

Zara:
I've got a friend that might like to go out with you.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Really? Thanks anyway.

[Zara walks over to another guy and kisses him]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, she'll take a long time to recover, Scott, no question. [finishes his beer] Well, I must be off.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Don't forget the yoghurt, sir.

[first lines]

Steve Hope:
[Sarah fondles his right buttock] Mmm, yes! Oh, it's you.

Sarah:
Cheeky sod! Who else is it going to be?

Steve Hope:
I have my admirers.

Sarah:
In your dreams you do. Anyway, get a move on. I want you to do that shopping on the way back.

Steve Hope:
How's it going inside?

Sarah:
Mr Turner hasn't got up yet, and Mrs Turner is downstairs taking coffee with Mrs Wilmot. They're just rushed off their feet.

Bernie:
[speaking about the murder of her husband] I suppose, uh, I did feel a twinge of pity in his last shuddering squirms of agony but...

[she takes a deep breath]

Bernie:
...not a great deal.

DS Ben Jones:
I find Shakespeare a bit hard going, to be honest with you, sir. Bit of a snore.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, well, four hours on a stone seat in the open air, that'll be hard going all right.

DS Ben Jones:
Four hours!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes, well, unfortunately, Jones, brevity was never the soul of Shakespeare's wit.

DS Ben Jones:
Yeah. Sentences longer than Judge Lloyd's.

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
I appreciated your trust over the Mason's thing.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, trust, Jones, is something hard to win, easy to lose, and never to be taken lightly.

DS Ben Jones:
William Shakespeare, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No. Thomas Barnaby.

Cully Barnaby:
When people are deluded, they can often think that they're actually telling the truth, so the normal signs just don't apply.

[last lines]

Pru Plunkett:
Love's a funny thing.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I want you to do it.

DS Ben Jones:
What?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Be best man.

DS Ben Jones:
[ironically] "But before I toast the bridesmaids, I'd like to arrest the bride and groom."

DCI Tom Barnaby:
If that's what it takes.

[first lines]

Lynne Fox:
Oh, hello. Hello. Now, as you probably know, Alyssa Bradley's house is about to be...

Young Mum:
I've already told you I'm not interested.

Lynne Fox:
If we are to stop this bypass, we must...

Young Mum:
My Fred's working for Jack Purdy.

Lynne Fox:
Oh. Is he? Why?

Young Mum:
To earn money! Where else is there work round here?

Alyssa Bradley:
You're an evil man, Jack Purdy!

Jack Purdy:
Tell me something I don't already know.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
She's waited nineteen years for this. No harm in giving her a few minutes more.

Lynne Fox:
Thank you.

Lynne Fox:
I suppose you must think of me as one of your chief suspects.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Now why would I do that?

Lynne Fox:
Three bodies in two days and I discovered them all.

[first lines]

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
Frank!

Frank Dewar:
Oh. Wall came away, vicar.

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
is it serious?

Frank Dewar:
Hole's not the problem.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Just I thought, with you being a scientist, the place would be... ordered, precise, at least vaguely clean.

Kate Wilding:
Only boring people have clean houses.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Eh, you're confusing boring with normal.

Kate Wilding:
All right, as your landlady I give you my permission to tidy the place up.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Do I get a rent reduction?

Kate Wilding:
Depends how good a job you do.

Sarah Barnaby:
Baby's coming, and we need the space.

DCI John Barnaby:
But babies are tiny. How much space does something that small really need?

Sarah Barnaby:
Oh, look at you. You're so sweet, so naive. You have no idea what's coming, do you?

DS Charlie Nelson:
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate her taking me in, but you should see the house; it- it's like a pigsty. I, I tried to square the place up but, I don't know. I didn't know where to start,

DCI John Barnaby:
Nelson.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
You do know I don't care.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Yes, sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
Just checking.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Being in churches gives me the creeps.

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
The feeling of being watched, every move catalogued, every thought recorded. Nothing escapes Him. I've often thought God's a bit like the Stasi only more effective, and with nicer agents, obviously.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Sorry, how did you know about Nancy?

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
His first time out of the city?

DCI John Barnaby:
Transferred from London a month ago.

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
Still a tourist, then.

Reverend Arthur Gould:
Do you have children?

DCI John Barnaby:
My wife and I are expecting our first.

Reverend Arthur Gould:
Your first! A new dad, eh. This must be an interesting time for you.

DCI John Barnaby:
It's very exciting.

Reverend Arthur Gould:
Ha! You're scared stiff. And if not, you've no business being a father.

Reverend Martha Hillcott:
[about the fresco] Isn't it beautiful! All that misery and suffering. Almost makes me tingle.

[last lines]

DS Charlie Nelson:
By the way, guess what I found under Kate's sofa yesterday?

DCI John Barnaby:
Nelson.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Sir?

DCI John Barnaby:
I still don't care.

[first lines]

Selwyn Proctor:
I'm afraid I've got to drive off to town.

Tamsin Proctor:
What? Now, Selwyn?

Selwyn Proctor:
Bit of a panic on. Dow Jones closed two hundred points down. You go to bed. Till tomorrow evening. Honestly, this place is lit up like a damn Christmas tree; it all costs money, you know.

Selwyn Proctor:
[outside, on mobile phone] It's me. We're off. Usual place.

[last lines]

[DCI Barnaby has just discovered his pension fund is in trouble]

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Funny thing happened the other day, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Go on, Troy, cheer me up.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Lord Chetwood put me on to this chap. He's a collector, he collects comics.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Really.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Anyway, he phoned up and asked me about 'The Hawk'; I've got 'em all, you see, from the first issue, and they're in *really* good condition. Anyway, this collector wants to buy them. And you'll never guess how much he's offered. It's amazing! Go on, sir, have a guess.

Harry Painter:
[to Barnaby] Hey! Hole in one! You should be a detective.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Sergeant Troy does sometimes make a stab at humor. This is not one of those occasions.

[a young man is playing the piano at an audition which Miriam and Constance are supervising]

Miriam Fielding:
[whispers] I'm losing the will to live.

Constance Fielding:
[whispers] Please, Miriam. He's almost finished.

[the pianist ends with a big flourish; Miriam and Constance applaud half-heartedly]

Constance Fielding:
[to the pianist] Thank you very much. We'll be in touch.

Miriam Fielding:
[to the pianist] Very memorable. [whispers] Like witnessing genocide.

[first lines]

Dawn Stock:
I'm sorry to bother you, but how many students make it through to the next round?

Joyce Barnaby:
It's usually a dozen for the winter school, and then three are chosen for the master class.

Dawn Stock:
Thank you. [to daughter] Good luck, darling.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What's that you're reading?

Joyce Barnaby:
It's a biography of Sir Francis Galton.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ohhhhh, the fingerprint man.

Joyce Barnaby:
Among other things. he had some very dubious ideas about genetics.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Hm?

Joyce Barnaby:
He believed that imperfections could be bred out of a population. Apart from you, his biggest fans seem to have been the Nazis.

[last lines]

Middle Aged Woman:
That's really lovely. Wonderful. Do you know anything by Lionel Richie?

Benedict Marsh:
Three Times a Lady?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Barnaby enters with Joyce and sees him] Fancy take-away?

Sir Michael Fielding:
What her soul needs now is music.

Sir Michael Fielding:
British people are degenerating into a nation of half-wits. Someone had to act.

[last lines]

Dr. Bullard:
And he confessed all to Joyce?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes.

Dr. Bullard:
Handy having a wife to do all your hard work for you.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Unh.

Dr. Bullard:
It's the talk of the station, Tom. And, talking of burning things to a crisp, I think your Cumberlands need turning.

Joyce Barnaby:
[to Barnaby] You are, without doubt, the most difficult person in the world to buy a present for.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Walking to the back door after getting no answer from the front] Good afternoon.

[She doesn't respond]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You didn't answer.

Christina Finleyson:
I was hoping you'd go away, if I'm particularly honest.

[first lines]

Charlie Finleyson:
Hell!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[about Noah Farrow] If he's still got that amount of hate in him, imagine what he must have been like thirty-odd years ago when he was, when he was capable!

John Farrow:
[bitterly, to his father about his daughter] You don't get to cripple this generation too!

Alan Thorpe:
[to Barnaby] You have a lot in common with popular music, Inspector... crude and repetitive!

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Find him a cell, Scott, and when he can make a sensible statement, charge him.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Yes, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
He was respected and admired, Scott, because he encouraged and inspired so many people, including the great Joan Alder.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Joan Alder? 'Midsomer Rhapsody'?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah. [surprised] Do you know that piece?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
My mum was a fan. She played it when she wanted us out of the house.

[first lines]

Charlie Speight:
Good night, Arthur.

[Andrew Maplin, the curate, is known to have very hard-line, intolerant views about Christianity and was vigorously opposed to Gideon's magic show in the church. Andrew, the vicar and the choir are standing outside the church singing a hymn]

DCI John Barnaby:
That must be Andrew Maplin standing next to the vicar.

DS Charlie Nelson:
He's been busy posting comments on Gideon's website - real fire and brimstone stuff.

DCI John Barnaby:
[sarcastically] We'll talk to him when he's finished singing about love and mercy.

[first lines]

Magnus Soane:
Very good.

Andrew Maplin:
This is an ungodly outrage.

Magnus Soane:
Oh, dear.

Andrew Maplin:
A judgement from God. On you. For polluting his house.

Magnus Soane:
God works in mysterious ways, Andrew. But are you *really* suggesting this tragedy is His doing?

Andrew Maplin:
This village has a dark present. And an even darker past.If the battle to bring it into the light requires violence and suffering, then so be it.

Magnus Soane:
Well, I'm sorry. I can't carry on working with someone who worships such a petty, vindictive, unimaginative God such as yours. I'm sure there are parishes crying out for your... rigorous brand of Christianity, but it has no place in Midsomer Oaks.

[Barnaby has been minding their baby while Sarah was out]

Sarah Barnaby:
So, how did you get on?

DCI John Barnaby:
Betty finished her bottle, and Sykes enjoyed his bone. Or was it the other way round?

DCI John Barnaby:
On the whole, Nelson, I'm glad your parents didn't encourage you to pursue a career in magic.

DS Charlie Nelson:
It's never too late for a change of direction, sir.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
[Sykes pulls down an empty tray] Oh, Sykesie, what are you doing? Come h- Sykes. Sykes.

Sarah Barnaby:
. [Sykes grabs sausage links] It's the art of misdirection canine style.

DCI John Barnaby:
[chasing Sykes] Sykesie, come back with those sausages! Sykesie!

[many years ago Grady Felton murdered a boy; having now been released from prison he has returned to the village to arrange to sell his house where the murder took place]

Grady Felton:
I had an estate agent round yesterday. And he agreed to take the sale on. Phone call this morning, and he'd changed his mind. I go into Causton, slog round all the rest of them, and nobody will touch it.

DCI John Barnaby:
That's not a police matter.

Grady Felton:
[snarls] I want that money! Now they have got no right to take it from me.

DCI John Barnaby:
[sarcastically] You murdered a young man here, Mr Felton. Did you expect buyers to be tripping over each other?

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
Are you OK?

DS Ben Jones:
Oh, I'm feeling sick. Ah! It must be a concussion. Did I pass?

DCI John Barnaby:
Just.

DS Ben Jones:
I feel terrible.

Police Instructor:
Well done, gentlemen.

DS Ben Jones:
I think I've knackered my ankle.

DCI John Barnaby:
My knee's seizing up.

Police Instructor:
Well, whatever doesn't kill you...

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Smothered by a meat pudding, flattened by the roller and bashed about the head. Not necessarily in that order.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Think it could be accidental, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No time for jokes, Troy.

Anthony Talbot:
Boy comes in here to help, and what do you do? - Make a string of vile insinuations!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Making inquiries, Mr. Talbot, not insinuations.

Anthony Talbot:
I hope you're not one of those chip on the soldier types who always takes the criminal's side, Barnaby.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, I'm one of those 'let's do the job properly' types.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, the cause of death seems obvious.

Dr. Bullard:
If causes of death were *ever* obvious you wouldn't need me, would you?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, Dr. Bullard - I await the full results of your postmortem examination with anticipated delight, but - might you expedite our investigation by honoring us with a speculative hypothesis?

Dr. Bullard:
Occlusion of the carotid artery leading to severe brain damage due to hypoxia... just a guess.

Major David Walsh:
I'm excercising my rights to silence.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, don't excercise it too hard. It's not what it used to be.

Norman Swanscombe:
The Pelfe Charge Development will bring change to a village that's in danger of dying in its sleep.

Margaret Winstanley:
[reading from a ledger] "Sold to H.P. - for one hundred and fifty thousand pounds!"

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Who's H.P.?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
At that price it's probably Harry Potter.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
How's Brother Robert getting on with his diary translation?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Let me put it this way, sir; up at the abbey they still tell the time with a sun dial.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[after Scott has broken into a safe using an axe] Where did you learn to do that?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
School of hard locks.

[first lines]

Jimmy Fong:
There they are. I made those marks last year.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Now, I'm going to surprise you all here. Lunch is on me. [Cully gasps] Chinese, anyone?

[first lines]

Steve Bright:
Cheese!

Lionel Bell:
Get out of the way; I'm trying to photograph this tree.

Steve Bright:
So am I, so you'll just have to wait.

[snaps a shot]

Steve Bright:
Oh yes, got a real cracker here, Lionel. One for the annual exhibition, I reckon. Your heap of junk hasn't got a prayer up against this baby.

Lionel Bell:
Get out of my way!

Steve Bright:
God, I'd love to give you a good thumping.

Lionel Bell:
Help yourself. Why don't you finish me off while you're about it! After all, you're the one who ruined my life, aren't you?

Steve Bright:
Don't be pathetic.

Lionel Bell:
Well, you can forget about the annual exhibition. The committee has decided not to accept digital images this year.

Steve Bright:
What? What!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And they say the camera never lies.

Lionel Bell:
Cameras don't lie. People do.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Tom! Do look a bit more cheerful.

Marion Bell:
Oh, he always was a grumpy old so-and-so; weren't you, Tom? That's why it didn't really work out between us.

Joyce Barnaby:
[chuckles] Hold it!

DS Ben Jones:
They found a diary on Bell's body. There's an entry for last night.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, the mystery visitor.

DS Ben Jones:
Apparently so.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Who was it?

DS Ben Jones:
You, sir.

Steve Bright:
You wouldn't know a good photo if it jumped up and bit you on the bum!

Sonia Madrigal:
Men... useless articles!

Dr Bullard:
I never realized photography was such a dangerous pastime.

Headley Madrigal:
[about a photograph] Look at that, hmm. Look how the light glows. A moment; a light-filled moment passing for a fraction of a second through the finest glass to be captured forever on a wisp of silver nitrate. No batteries, gentlemen. No microchips. And no damn pixels.

Philomena Bell:
It drove dad mad. She'd leave us, then come back, then leave again. She couldn't live with him, she couldn't live without him. Seb says it's the modern disease.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What is?

Philomena Bell:
Chronic dissatisfaction.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[chuckles] Well, he's right!

[first lines]

Reggie Barton:
What are you doing?

Peter Fogden:
Unlocking the church door.

Reggie Barton:
Why?

Emma Tysoe:
We're going to practice.

Reggie Barton:
On a Tuesday? Who gave permission?

Peter Fogden:
I have a hot-line to God!

Reggie Barton:
Blasphemous little whelk!

Peter Fogden:
I'm sure he thinks well of you too, Reggie!

[Sue picks up Greg's trousers]

Greg Tutt:
Not me trousers!

Sue Tutt:
Why not? You hardly ever wear them!

Sue Tutt:
Sorry, Reggie. We're closed. Greg and I are just terminating our marriage!

Reggie Barton:
That's the spirit! You're worth ten of him!

Angie Blunstone:
Is he back?

Sue Tutt:
Certainly not. Back is not an option.

Angie Blunstone:
I daresay he'll fall on his feet.

Sue Tutt:
Either his feet or the missionary position. Do you care?

Angie Blunstone:
Me? Course not.

Sue Tutt:
Mean more work. Less canoodling behind the freezer.

Angie Blunstone:
Canoodling? Me and Greg?

Sue Tutt:
It's a euphemism, Angie. The real word's much shorter.

Maisie Gooch:
I think I've done enough... [to Tom Barnaby:] Do thank your lovely wife for all those cups of coffee. It was so nice to be welcomed into your home.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Mr. Tutt had apparently just won 5,000 pounds. You wouldn't know what happened to the money?

Rosalind Parr:
Heavens, no. I've no interest in the stuff. It's very vulgar. Especially such small quantities.

Angie Blunstone:
Big fish in a small pond, leads to jealousies in small minds. And they don't come much smaller than the ding-dong brigade; believe me.

Sue Tutt:
All I've wanted, Mr Barnaby, for as long as I can remember, is a Greg-free existence, and I achieved that two days ago. I didn't need to blow his chest open; I just threw his clothes out the window. Much less hassle, and no mandatory life sentence.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[notices that Barnaby is looking at him while he is talking to a pretty suspect at a bar and says defensively] It's not what you're thinking, sir!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You don't know what I'm thinking!

Dr. Stannard:
Have you met Anselm?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Indeed I have!

Dr. Stannard:
Well, I wouldn't let that one near my loose change!

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
I bought you a new jar of *this*. [shows him a jar of Plummer's Relish]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, thank you. But you shouldn't have bothered.

Joyce Barnaby:
I thought it was your favourite.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, it was, but it isn't any more. I think they changed the recipe. [he bins it] Sorry.

[first lines]

Fred:
Morning, Mrs Plummer.

Amelia Plummer:
Morning, Fred.

Kaye:
Morning, Mrs Plummer.

Amelia Plummer:
Morning, Kaye.

Amelia Plummer:
This is charming, Mr Judd. Blue Worcester.

Mr. Judd:
Ah yes, it is indeed, Mrs Plummer.

Amelia Plummer:
May I have a look at the willow-pattern plate in the cupboard?

Mr. Judd:
Of course.

Amelia Plummer:
The one on the top shelf.

[she looks at it]

Amelia Plummer:
No. No, I don't think so. Thank you, Mr Judd.

Mr. Judd:
Great pleasure, Mrs Plummer.

Amelia Plummer:
It's assumed, as one gets older one needs less. All that matters is to be warm, fed and facing the television. It's all nonsense. One needs cash as well. One can never be too old for cash.

[first lines]

Beatrix Ordish:
Can you take notes?

Sylvia Mountford:
[claps several times] Ladies. Shall we commence?

Kate Wilding:
Put simply, the victim was killed by a blow to the head from a large wheel of cheese.

DS Ben Jones:
Hard cheese.

Kate Wilding:
What's the occasion?

DCI John Barnaby:
Well, uh, fifteen years of married bliss.

Kate Wilding:
Ah.

DCI John Barnaby:
So, just bring yourselves and a bottle.

DS Ben Jones:
Fifteen years. Wow. It's pretty, um...

Kate Wilding:
Terrifying.

DS Ben Jones:
I was going to say inspiring.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
In a way, you know, this was all your fault.

DS Ben Jones:
How?

DCI John Barnaby:
I picked up my ring during my lunch hour.

DS Ben Jones:
Yeah?

DCI John Barnaby:
So, I was admiring the ring in one hand, and I had my sandwich in the other hand, and Sykes at my feet.

DS Ben Jones:
How was that my fault?

DCI John Barnaby:
Because that was the moment that *you* phoned my up. And somehow in the confusion I fed the rest of my sandwich and the ring to the dog. [Jones starts to laugh] We're not that off duty, Jones.

DS Ben Jones:
Look, nature took it's course; there's no harm done.

DCI John Barnaby:
And no-one need ever be any the wiser.

DS Ben Jones:
Okay.

DCI John Barnaby:
I found the ladies of Midsomer Pastures Prep School Parents' Council to be restrained...

Sarah Barnaby:
Um-hmm.

DCI John Barnaby:
and intriguing.

Sarah Barnaby:
Sylvia Mountford's Yummy Mummy Squad; I've heard all about them.

DCI John Barnaby:
No, these were more Stepford wives than yummy mummies. A roomful of perfect women and not another man for miles, except for Jones and he doesn't count.

Sarah Barnaby:
Oh, well, John, you should have said. I'd be more than happy to spend my days making the perfect sponge and choosing perfect wallpaper patterns and, and really just being perfect.

DCI John Barnaby:
[laughs] No, you wouldn't. And anyway, what do I want with perfection when I already have you. No, hang on, that didn't come out right. Wh...

Sarah Barnaby:
You're right there.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And what are you doing living in a caravan with Romany Rose?

Lucky Lol Tanner:
It's not illegal, is it? We've been shacked up since she arrived, to tell the truth. I have this - er - weakness for Northern gypsies. You've got to admit it, she's a very good-looking woman.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
She's also got two dead husbands.

Lucky Lol Tanner:
Bet they died happy 'n all.

[Glen Jarvis has just refused, very ungraciously, Barnaby's offer of advice on the security of Allenby House]

Sir Malcolm Frazer:
Is it illegal to strangle nasty little weasels?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
I think it's actively encouraged, isn't it, sir?

[first lines]

Young Jimmy Wells:
Schnell! Machst du schnell!

[last lines]

Brenda Packard:
Your chappie's in trouble.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Yeah. What a shame.

[to Jones, having been chosen to be the umpire in an upcoming cricket game]

D.C.I. Barnaby:
There are 42 basic areas in cricket rules. And they are split into numbered sub-headings, which produce thousands, thousands of sub-sub-clauses. I will never forgive you for this.

[Jones' team is losing in a game Barnaby is umpiring]

DS Ben Jones:
Whose side are you on, sir?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Same as always, Jones; the side of decency, justice and the American way.

Brenda Packard:
You should have stuck with us, Tom. Your life would have been equally fruitless.

DS Ben Jones:
They're all stalling.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Yeah. So let us insert some ginger into the appropriate orifices and see if we can make the horses dance.

DS Ben Jones:
[Not comprehending the metaphor] What?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
[to Jones] We're going to have to squeeze the fruit further up the food chain.

Joyce Barnaby:
[to herself about Tom's returning to the case] Thank God for small murders!

D.C.I. Barnaby:
[to Joyce on his role as cricket umpire] I enjoy the job playing God in a limited universe.

Brenda Packard:
[to Barmaby about her role in MI6]... I am the left hand that doesn't know what the right hand is doing.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
[Frustrated about restrictions put on him by the chief constable] I can't even speak to the sodding suspcts. I am banned from the crime scene.

Joyce Barnaby:
So think laterally.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
What does that mean?

Joyce Barnaby:
I don't know. You're the one who's always telling me to do it.

Brenda Packard:
[Referring to MI6] We always win, Tom. You lot think you have the power, but we're the real bullies in the playground. Sorry.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
[DCI Tom Barnaby notices his wife Joyce Barnaby reading a spy novel about MI6] I was a spook once.

Joyce Barnaby:
You were not!

D.C.I. Barnaby:
I was. When I graduated from Brown's Hill, they asked me to join MI6.

Joyce Barnaby:
Why?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
'Cause I spoke Russian.

Joyce Barnaby:
But you don't speak Russian.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
No, they got the wrong person; they really wanted Brenda Packard.

Joyce Barnaby:
Brenda? In RWI? Grows big vegetables?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
That's the chap! She's been with MI6 for years.

Joyce Barnaby:
Goodness...

D.C.I. Barnaby:
I tried it for a few months. Security Officer Grade Seven! Drank gallons of weak tea and, uh, played cricket in the corridors.

Joyce Barnaby:
You never told me any of this!

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Well no, Joyce. Secret, isn't it? [DCI Tom Barnaby returns to reading his book as Joyce Barnaby looks on in astonishment]

DS Ben Jones:
They're all stalling.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Yeah. So let's insert some Ninja into the appropriate orifices... and see if we can make the horses dance.

DS Ben Jones:
What?

[first lines]

Duggie Hammond:
What are you doing here?

Kate Hammond:
Well, if you really must know, around that time I was having a bit of a serious snog.

DS Ben Jones:
Can I have the gentleman's name?

Kate Hammond:
The gentleman's name was Caroline.

DS Ben Jones:
Caroline! [she just looks at him] Oh.

Johnny Hammond:
Let's face it. What do you get for burglary these days? A holiday in Wales with a social worker?

Dr Bullard:
Tenerife if it's serious.

DS Ben Jones:
You don't have to look quite so smug, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Of course I *do*. It's one of the perks of experience.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
How did you get His Honour to do this for free?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
His Honour is doing this out of the kindness of his heart.

Joyce Barnaby:
That is nice.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, I thought so.

Biddy Dixon:
How's it goin', Lionel?

Lionel Hicks:
Fine, Biddy. Put the kettle on.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Feuding's an Olympic sport around here.

Colonel Henry Hammond:
Sophie, hang it. Is she a, is she a communist?

Arabella Hammond:
No, Henry, she's a social worker.

Johnny Hammond:
[about his father] I was his worst nightmare and he mine.

Dr Bullard:
[Sarcastically] Very difficult to operate a wheelchair when someone's shot half your head off.

Arabella Hammond:
Love, hate, what's the difference, Mr. Barnaby? What's the difference?

Arabella Hammond:
Thank God for small Thorazines!

Arabella Hammond:
Most first marriages are a mistake.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
It seems that lack of respect for the mayor is endemic in our wayward community.

Arabella Hammond:
May as well be hung for two lambs as a sheep.

Arabella Hammond:
David, I picked you for my occasional indulgence because it appealed to a certain perversity within me. When having sex with you, I like to imagine how deeply horrified the Hammond clan would be. But, believe me, otherwise it was pure farmyard, nothing else at all.

WPC Gail Stephens:
[about Barnaby] Is he on to something?

DS Ben Jones:
I'm never quite sure.

DS Ben Jones:
So what's in there? [reaches for box lid]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Hey-ey-ey. [stops Jones opening it] Do you know what a MacGuffin is?

DS Ben Jones:
No.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, it's one of them.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No flirting on duty, Casanova.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Not really my style, Sir. [Scott turns to Barnaby] Casanova?

[Barnaby and Scott have returned to a murder victim's bedroom]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[looking around] You noticed what else is missing, Detective?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Sympathy, Sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No. [Barnaby points to a low shelf attached to the wall] Look. No piggy bank.

[visiting a bookshop, Scott is told the book he is looking at is on sale for ?12.99]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
That's five pints and change over the way.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Literature is priceless, Scott. Let that thought console you!

Scott:
Do leopards change their spots? Not in my jungle!

Scott:
[after he is nearly run over by Jezebel] Thanks... for not killing me.

Jezebel Tripp:
I only kill when I'm bored.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[remarking on the sexy Jezebel] Very tasty!

Cully Barnaby:
It's not just Muesli she eats for breakfast, you know.

Barnaby:
Do you smoke cigars, Miss Tripp?

Jezebel Tripp:
I have the odd one when nobody's looking. Smoking's so 20th Century.

Camilla Crofton:
Love's always a dependable motive for murder, don't you think?

[first lines]

Jezebel Tripp:
No nationals! No telly!

Neville Williams:
I said low key.

Jezebel Tripp:
Low key doesn't mean dead on arrival, Neville.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I was right about the publishing world; it stinks. But I'm sure a jury'll go for Camilla's plea of self-defense. Do my best to back her up, anyway.

Joyce Barnaby:
I'm sure you will.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Eh. To Camilla Crofton! May she live forever. Nostrovia.

[Sergeant Dan Scott approaches DCI Tom Barnaby, who is standing over the body of Jezebel Tripp]

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Well bang goes our table for two at Sergio's tomorrow night.

Mrs Hunnicutt:
Good morning.

Grace Maplin:
I didn't sleep.

Mrs Hunnicutt:
Only the righteous sleep, Mrs. Maplin. Not many of those about.

[first lines]

Bob Moss:
[setting model figure upright] Hey! On your feet, Thomas, there's a good lad.

DS Ben Jones:
[by a body tied down in a model village] And before anyone asks, sir, his name's not Gulliver.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Referring to the corpse's stab wound] How much force was used?

Dr Bullard:
None was needed. As I've said so many times before, our Creator was guilty of a few design faults when he made human beings. Vital organs too close to the surface of the skin.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, but, George, he gave us a brain to compensate.

Dr Bullard:
That was the biggest design fault of all.

Hilary Compton:
[to Harriet] Even to this day, I fail to understand your relationship with the Good Lord: if it lives, criticize it; if it dies, pray for it. Seems to be your only pleasure in life.

Kate Dove:
[while in bed with Mike] You know, you're the only man I know who smells like a poof and shags like a rhino.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Referring to the village of Little worthy] You see, Jones, you look at this. You'd think you were in some kind of rural paradise, but how wrong you'd be!

Dr Bullard:
As I've said so many times before; our creator was guilty of a few design faults when he made human beings. Vital organs too close too the surface of the skin.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, but George, he gave us a brain to compensate.

Dr Bullard:
That was the biggest design fault of all.

[first lines]

Milkman:
Morning, Mr. Pike.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Oh, it's good to be home.

Hugo Balcombe:
I've spent a lifetime trying to fathom the complexities of jungle ecosystems, but they are nothing compared to the machinations of this village... Just extraordinary!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
When we were with you last, you gave the impression that your daughter may have had a few enemies.

Archie Townsend:
There are a lot of people who would say that she left the world a worse place than when she came into it, but she was my daughter.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
[about Cherrie] There's no way she could be protecting Joan?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What, like some sort of Women's Institute Mafia?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Medlar jelly. Medlar...

Joyce Barnaby:
What is it?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Someone described their friend as 'the meddler'. I wonder if she meant; one who meddles or the fruit?

Joyce Barnaby:
There are quite a few trees over Malham way; in the bigger gardens. Quite popular locally.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[reading aloud] 'Medlars spread on straw ripen by their own corruption.'

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Medlar jelly.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Mm?

Joyce Barnaby:
Try some. Go on.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Hm. That's very nice. Perhaps you should, uh, save it for special occasions.

Joyce Barnaby:
Well, that's really not necessary. We've got two dozen jars. Just tuck in.

[Barnaby arrives at home for dinner]

Joyce Barnaby:
Just in time. I got you a chicken jalfrezi. Didn't have time to cook.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Thank you, Lord.

[first lines]

Talk Show Host:
[on radio] Hello, who's this?

Julie - caller on radio:
It's Julie.

Talk Show Host:
Hello, Julie, how are you?

Julie - caller on radio:
I'm fine, thanks. How are you?

Talk Show Host:
I'm very well, thank you, and thanks for calling us.

Sam Nelms:
Hello!

Talk Show Host:
And I suppose you want a dedication or a request.

Julie - caller on radio:
I would love one, yes.

Sam Nelms:
Hello! [enters house] Stan? Nesta!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I think, Jones, whatever is in those woods, it's time we met it face to face. C'mon.

DS Ben Jones:
Do ghosts have faces?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, I think they do, yes. Except the headless ones.

[last lines]

Dr Bullard:
It's the manner of his death. I've heard of it and never seen it. Parasympathetic rebound. It happens when someone is so terrified that the whole metabolic system reacts and tries to calm itself down. The problem is, it can make too good a job of it and the heart simply stops beating. I don't know what it was he encountered in Monks Barton Woods. Frankly, I hope I never find out.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Parasympathetic rebound. You're telling me that Cyrus LeVanu died of fright.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Joyce referring to LeVanue] I don't have a closed mind. I'm a copper, and I can spot a phony a mile away, and Simon LeVanue fits the bill exactly.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Jones as he views corpse] Whoever it was couldn't look her in the face when he pulled the trigger.

Talk Show Host:
I heard you call for help.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Defensively] I did not call for help... I was attacked... by an owl.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Maybe all this psychic drivel is a cover for something more sinister.

[first lines]

Taxi Dispatcher:
[over radio] When you've dropped her off, can you pick up Mr Lavender at 15 Harley Street?

Taxi Driver:
No problem.

[both get out of the taxi]

Faith Alexander:
Wow!

Taxi Driver:
So. He's worth a few bob then, your uncle?

Faith Alexander:
Looks like he is. Stunning. Just beautiful.

Taxi Driver:
Well, best of luck anyway.

Faith Alexander:
Thank you. [holds out a bill]

Taxi Driver:
Oh, uh...

Faith Alexander:
Oh, that's all right.

Taxi Driver:
Oh. It's been a pleasure. [gives her his card] If ever you want a taxi in a hurry, [chuckles] emergency dash to the airport - escape the rellies - just let us know.

Faith Alexander:
All right. But I think it's going to be fine... [looks at card] John.

Taxi Driver:
See you then.

Faith Alexander:
Bye.

Taxi Driver:
Bye.

DS Ben Jones:
Odds on it's loin-instigated; got to be. If it involved Rex. I don't know if it's got anything to do with anything.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Loin-instigated.

DS Ben Jones:
Black and white. I suppose that makes it erotica rather than porn. Very tasteful. A bit of extra-curricular photography. Never realized they had such adventurous sex in those days.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ooh, that's when it was invented, Jones, in the sixties. Do you know nothing?

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
I think Miss Bailey and Mrs Alexander are going to have a pretty good time.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What, in a loin-instigated sort of way?

DS Ben Jones:
I hope so.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
It's certainly on the cards.

Amie Pearce:
I loved Rex, dearly, but he could be a complete and utter toe-rag.

Rex Masters:
Beautiful, isn't it?

Young Faith:
Yes it is. But frightening too.

Rex Masters:
Well, they often go together. For some of us, that is. Mustn't let the fear win, though. Never let the fear win.

Janet Bailey:
Rex never believed that the truth should get in the way of a good story. He wanted life to be entertaining and dramatic. And if it wasn't, he'd make it that way.

[Gary and Finola have just made love]

Gary Cooper:
So, OK, was it?

Finola Harcourt:
Gary, an English gentleman never asks if it was OK. He assumes his mere presence in the bed is enough to satisfy any wife, servant or Labrador.

Cully Barnaby:
[to her father] Dad. Please. Try and maintain the gap between the generations.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
How old do you think I am?

DS Ben Jones:
I don't know. I've done speed-dating, not carbon dating.

[first lines]

James Hobson:
Should have used the Red Tag.

Gary Cooper:
No, no, trust me, the Killer Bug is right for the flow.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Jones, this is Detective Inspector Jenkins. I was to him what you are to me.

D.I. Owen Jenkins:
Bloody useless.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Gary] Could I speak to you alone, please?

James Hobson:
Mr Cooper prefers me to be present.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Let me rephrase that. Could I speak to you alone, please? Either here or at the station; I'm not fussed.

D.I. Owen Jenkins:
Nowadays all I think about is cricket, and death. As one prepares you for the other.

[last lines]

Jack 'Axeman' McKinley:
They don't even care. Like you don't care. Morality, redemption, nah. Not on your beat, huh? Not on your beat.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Shall we go?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Another thing Owen told me: never expose yourself until you've confirmed the relative positions of your arse and your elbow.

DS Charlie Nelson:
[about the victim] Music promoter. Ran a folk festival in the village.

DCI John Barnaby:
The Lower Crosby festival?

DS Charlie Nelson:
That's the one.

DCI John Barnaby:
Doesn't the festival start today?

DS Charlie Nelson:
Not for him it idoesn't!

[first lines]

Toby Winning:
Who's there? Is somebody there?

Liz Grey:
It's a shame they were getting a divorce. They were well suited. Both as stupide as each other.

Melody Carver:
Remember I'm leaving early.

Tom Asher:
You are kidding, aren't you?

Melody Carver:
I've got my thing. I asked you yesterday and you said it was OK.

Tom Asher:
You weren't here yesterday.

Melody Carver:
No, but if I was I'd have asked you, and you'd have said it was OK?

Sarah Barnaby:
[stopping the music] This is awful.

DCI John Barnaby:
What do you mean awful? That's our song in case you've forgotten.

Sarah Barnaby:
That is *not* our song.

DCI John Barnaby:
You said it was your favourite.

Sarah Barnaby:
When?

DCI John Barnaby:
At the Fresh's Ball. [Sykes whines] Which I didn't go to with you.

Sarah Barnaby:
[coldly] Well, whoever you did go with, she certainly left an impression.

Kate Wilding:
Are you telling me you've pulled a forensic team from a live crime scene to the site of a twenty-five-year-old suicide in the hope that they might find a minute trace of gunshot residue in a room that is positively teeming with forensic material?

DS Charlie Nelson:
And if they find it more than two metres away from that chair.

Kate Wilding:
You have no chance.

Forensic Officer:
Uh, Doctor Wilding!

Kate Wilding:
[to Nelson] I hate you.

DCI John Barnaby:
And you thought I'd forgotten our song.

Sarah Barnaby:
Well, you *had* forgotten our song.

DCI John Barnaby:
But then I remembered.And not only did I remember, I got the original vinyl. Signed as well.

Sarah Barnaby:
You went to so much trouble. Thank you. [she kisses him]

DS Charlie Nelson:
You're going to be late.

DCI John Barnaby:
Car keys! [he exits]

DS Charlie Nelson:
He's quite the romantic, isn't he.

Sarah Barnaby:
He certainly is.

DS Charlie Nelson:
It couldn't have been easy tracking down an original copy like that.

Sarah Barnaby:
Well, he can be very resourceful.

DS Charlie Nelson:
That wasn't your song, was it?

Sarah Barnaby:
[whispers] It's not even close.

[first lines]

Anthony Prideaux:
Can I help you, madam?

Felicity Law:
Oh, yes; hello. I'm so sorry to bother you, but I was just clearing out my loft when I found this. [unwrapping a painting] I don't know how it got there, but it's rather nice.

Anthony Prideaux:
I don't generally look at paintings found in people's lofts, madam. There are several house clearance firms locally if you'd like to try there.

Felicity Law:
Yes, I know. I'm so sorry, but it is rather nice. I've got no space on my walls, but I thought someone might like it.

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Oh, Tom, what a lovely present! A course on Hogson; how thoughtful of you.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I knew you'd like it.

Joyce Barnaby:
I shall look forward to it. That Matilda Simms is so interesting.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes, she is.

Graham Spate:
[Speaking about Mathilda] What does she know? She's just a spoiled little daddy's girl.

DS Ben Jones:
Oh, I think she's quite interesting.

Graham Spate:
Got her hooks into you, has she?

DS Ben Jones:
Aha! Is that why you stopped painting?

Graham Spate:
No.

DS Ben Jones:
So why'd you stop?

Graham Spate:
Crime's more... creative.

DS Ben Jones:
Well, I'm sorry you think that, Graham. I taught you'd turned a bit of a corner with art. It sort of shines a light into the corner of the dark areas, doesn't it? You never know what you're going to find, do you?

Graham Spate:
I suggest you stick toplodding, mate because you'd make a useless shrink.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Arlington] That book has killed two people. Better go home, sir, before it kills you.

Felicity Law:
[after he's raised his offering price many times] Mr. Prideaux, is there something about this painting you're not telling me?

[John Barnaby picks up the letters that the postman has just delivered, and looks at them]

Sarah Barnaby:
You expecting something?

DCI John Barnaby:
No. You?

[Sarah grins and turns round, revealing that she is pregnant]

DCI John Barnaby:
Morning, Bump!

Sarah Barnaby:
Sykes is doing very well this year; he's got more presents than me. I can't think why.

DCI John Barnaby:
Well, it's our last Christmas as a trio. [petting Sykes] Soon there's not going to be as much lying around, scratching bellies, nibbling treats and falling asleep on the sofa, is there?

Sarah Barnaby:
Things might have to change for Sykes, too.

Sarah Barnaby:
[about the new DS] So is that Nelson as in Horatio Nelson or Nelson as in Nelson Mandela?

DS Charlie Nelson:
She seems harmless enough.

DCI John Barnaby:
Seems, Nelson, seems? Don't forget your ABCs: Assume nothing; Believe no-one; Check everything. And never take your eye off the bigger picture.

Mel Bridgeman:
The paranormal isn't meant to be investigated. It's too dangerous. Some things are better left as mysteries.

DCI John Barnaby:
As detectives, you'll forgive us if we disagree.

Sarah Barnaby:
[sees the security DVD] Oh, film night. My favourite.

DCI John Barnaby:
If you like eight hours viewing in which the camera doesn't move.

Sarah Barnaby:
Didn't we watch a Russina film like that once?

[last lines]

Sarah Barnaby:
Oh look, it's snowing.

DCI John Barnaby:
Merry Christmas, everybody.

Sarah Barnaby:
Sykes, come on.

[first lines]

CC Richard Lovell:
[to the cat] Go on. [opens door] Out you go.

Mrs Painter:
But our patients are so respectable! They're all private!

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
What about The Creeper?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
The Creeper, Joyce, well, the case is still open, but I have a feeling The Creeper won't be bothering us again.

Joyce Barnaby:
How do you know?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Instinct, Joyce. Instinct.

Hugo Greening:
[Referring to the Rembrandt print] I did explain to Jack that the provenance is a mite dubious.

DS Ben Jones:
Doesn't that mean it's dodgy?

Isobel Chettham:
You never give up, do you?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, it's irritating, isn't it, my lady.

[first lines]

Suzie Colebrooke:
Miles, you back?

[she see the mess and checks a desk drawer then dials 999]

999 Operator:
What service do you require?

Suzie Colebrooke:
I'd like to report a break-in.

DCI John Barnaby:
Suzie Colebrooke clearly illustrated Jed Dagger novels.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Who?

DCI John Barnaby:
Jed Dagger, gambling detective. The sleuthing hero of a series of novels set in the sixties written by George Summersbee.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Maybe we could pick up a few tips.

DCI John Barnaby:
Hmph. Dagger was good, but not *that* good.

DCI John Barnaby:
If you need a hand with the yoga, I'm good at the deep breathing.

Sarah Barnaby:
Snoring, I think you'll find it's called.

[last lines]

Sarah Barnaby:
So you're free, then?

DCI John Barnaby:
Absolutely. So, um, why don't we go to the park, and then I can take us all out for a meal. A bit of, uh, quality family time.

Sarah Barnaby:
Great, love to.

DCI John Barnaby:
Me, too. [the baby sneezes] Ah, little...

Sarah Barnaby:
Or... can I be honest?

DCI John Barnaby:
Please.

Sarah Barnaby:
We could just stay in.

DCI John Barnaby:
Can we?

Sarah Barnaby:
Why didn't you just say?

DCI John Barnaby:
Why didn't you?

Sarah Barnaby:
It's exhausting having a baby, isn't it?

DCI John Barnaby:
Totally. And absolutely wonderful.

[Sykes whimpers and growls, holding his leash in his mouth]

DCI John Barnaby:
Come on, then.

[Sykes barks joyfully]

[talking about Barnaby, who has just discovered that a supposed murder victim has probably died of natural causes due to a congenital heart abnormality]

DS Ben Jones:
He hates accidents. Makes him feel superfluous.

[first lines]

Bentham DeQuetteville:
Ge... Geoff... Geoffrey.

DCI John Barnaby:
[arriving at Quitewell Hall] Modest little place.

DS Ben Jones:
An Englishman's castle is his home.

DCI John Barnaby:
Been saving that one, have you?

DS Ben Jones:
For years, sir.

DCI John Barnaby:
I wish you'd saved it a bit longer.

DS Ben Jones:
The DeQs have been having an ongoing row with their neighbours the Fleetwoods, who they fought in some battle during the Civil War, whenever that was.

DCI John Barnaby:
Sixteen forty-two to sixteen fifty-one.

DS Ben Jones:
Wow. That's some row.

Diana DeQuetteville:
Half the village children look remarkably like my late husband.

DS Ben Jones:
You didn't have any children together?

Diana DeQuetteville:
[pauses to reflect] I think I might have noticed that.

DCI John Barnaby:
I will go home and sleep on it, and in the morning wake to find that my finely-tuned brain has solved it all and written up all the reports.

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
There's a report just came in.

DCI John Barnaby:
Oh, yes?

DS Ben Jones:
Three people claim they saw the headless horseman in the last half hour. What's that about?

DCI John Barnaby:
That is a sense of community, Jones. One goes mad, they all go mad. It's a wonderful little world out here.

[Dr Bullard is examining the body of Alistair Kingslake]

Dr Bullard:
Beaten to death with a one iron. What a way to go. This hole's famous, you know. I played it once - got a quadruple bogey. It's known as Crisp's Folly.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Crisp's what?

Dr Bullard:
Folly. Chap called Crisp lost his house on a bet, playing this hole. It's got a ninety-degree dogleg, you see. You take a driver from the tee and you're liable to end in the jungle, but with an iron you might not get a shot at the green.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[sarcastically] Well, that's absolutely fascinating, George, but I don't speak golf.

[talking about Alistair Kingslake]

Archie Kemp:
He was the rudest man I ever met. You stick Ali Kingslake in a room on his own, he'd start a fight with himself.

[first lines]

Becky Tunstall:
Like this?

Darren Fountain:
No. You muppet! Like this.

Joyce Barnaby:
It was good fun when we used to play tennis.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, it was not. Rose-tinted spectacles there, Joyce.

Joyce Barnaby:
I loved that club. Don't know why we ever left.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, uh, apart from the snobbery and the extortionate fees, there was also the small matter of me arresting the treasurer for murdering his mistress.

Joyce Barnaby:
Details, details.

Miles Tully:
If you really want to know a man, Inspector, play golf with him.

Eileen Fountain:
What was it you wanted again?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I wanted a word with Colin, if I may.

Eileen Fountain:
Colin? What about?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, it's nothing very much.

Eileen Fountain:
Well, he just popped out as you saw.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ah, yes, well, he can't have gone very far, can he, so I'll take a look.

Eileen Fountain:
He might be feein' the pig. I'll take you.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
No, don't you trouble yourself. Don't worry. I'll follow my nose.

Dr Bullard:
[Looking at the corpse] Beaten to deth with an iron! What a way to go!

Lloyd Kirby:
How you goin' to arrest an extraterrestrial then?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
If they're guilty, everyone has to come back down to Earth.

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
[sarcastically] And in your case, Mr. Kirby, it'd be a very large bump.

Sally Boulter:
You know, the first one was electrocuted!

Sir Harry Chatwyn:
Electrocuted?

Sally Boulter:
Cooked inside like a steak and kidney pie!

Dave Hedges:
[standing over dead body on autopsy table] You're right. He was electrocuted.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Whatever happened to good old-fashioned shooting?

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
[sarcastically] Maybe this is the new green way to zap your victims - no blood, no guts, just fried brains.

Lloyd Kirby:
This has nothing whatever to do with extraterrestrial forms of life.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I agree with you, Lloyd. This is murder.

Sgt. Gavin Troy:
The wheat in the circles was burnt by butane gas. It comes in cylinders for gas blow torches. You can get it at any DIY store.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[ironically] Oh, not some derivative of kryptonite from the planet Zog?

Beatrice Chatwyn:
[contemptuously] I hope you'll rot in Hell!

Sir Harry Chatwyn:
I probably will, but I didn't kill Lloyd.

Steve Ramsey:
[nastily] Insanity doesn't run in your family; it gallops!

Lucy Ramsey:
[angrily] I hate you. I wish I never married you!

Steve Ramsey:
But you did! Because you like what Steven does to you, don't you, my sweet little chicken?

Lucy Ramsey:
Bastard! [she slaps him and walks away]

[Barnaby tells Scott that Roger Heldman has fathered yet another illegitimate child]

Scott:
Roger by name, Roger by nature.

[last lines]

Scott:
I never realized archaeology was such a dangerous business. Is the body count always this high around here, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
It has been remarked upon.

Scott:
Three murders just to relabel an object in a glass case.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, there's more to it, Scott, than merely relabelling. It was a lie; now it's the truth.

[first lines]

Miriam Heartley-Reade:
Excuse me. Hello, Vanessa.

Vanessa Stone:
Miriam. OK?

Miriam Heartley-Reade:
Yeah.

Vanessa Stone:
Sure?

Miriam Heartley-Reade:
Yes. D'you want to come and have a drink?

[first lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
[on phone] And how is the next member of the House of Barnaby? Still trying to kick his way out? Or hers? Uh-huh, good. I hope you and your mum aren't overdoing the whole baby-buying thing. Will grow, you know; they're not bonsai. OK, love to your lot. Bye. [hangs up]

DCI John Barnaby:
[to Sykes] You know what this is, don't you? This is going to be the end of life as we know it. No more peace and quiet for us, when the baby arrives. How many of these things do you have? [Sykes barks three times] You do not, you lying hound.

DCI John Barnaby:
[about the corpse] Bunged out of a plane?

Kate Wilding:
Well, he wasn't up a ladder.

DCI John Barnaby:
How high was the plane?

Kate Wilding:
About four hundred feet.

DCI John Barnaby:
How'd you know that?

Kate Wilding:
Went out with a flier once. I couldn't resist checking the impact stats.

DS Charlie Nelson:
Some date.

[last lines]

Molly Darnley:
Thank you, Inspector.

DCI John Barnaby:
What for?

Molly Darnley:
You know very well.

[first lines]

Edward Canning:
If you're all going to ride like maniacs, at least do it quietly.

Daniel Snape:
[Referring to Joyce's bicycle] Fine machine though. They don't make 'em like this anymore.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I never know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, hmmm.

Helen Markham:
But you know everything comes with a price.

Clinton Finn:
And that is... ?

Helen Markham:
Well, maybe you should decide who you're screwing - me or Melanie Jeffers 'cause both of us really isn't on the menu anymore.

George Jeffers:
Where's your optimism, Dan?

Daniel Snape:
The less optimistic I am, the less disappointed I get.

Clinton Finn:
[to Barnaby] Do you deal in the facts or just the fancy footwork?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[to Bullard] I don't believe the driver ever got out of the car. I think that he... or she reversed like you said and then drove over Emily deliberately. No accident... we're looking at first degree murder.

[first lines]

Connie Bishop:
Oh my God. Please. Please help me. [yelling] Somebody help me! No! [opens window] Help me, please. Someone. Please. Help me. There's someone in the house! Please help me.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
The first time that sleepwalking was used as a defence at a murder trial was Massachusetts, USA, 1846 when a certain Albert Tirrell was charged with murdering a - "a lady of the night" having set fire to her brothel. Hnh. He got off scot-free.

DS Ben Jones:
Be different if he set fire to a nunnery.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Oh, so young and so cynical.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
We can hope we get a decent night's sleep tonight.

Joyce Barnaby:
I wouldn't count on it.

Zukie Richardson:
[as the party tent is being erected] I think it's going to be fabulous. Let's hope there isn't another murder.

Jane Menzies:
Oh, they say bad things come in threes.

Zukie Richardson:
[after a take] You know, Jane sometimes you can be very negative.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
The show must go on must it?

Jane Menzies:
Frobisher night has never been cancelled. The good causes do rely on us. And, well, there's just too much invested.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Very expensive is it?

Jane Menzies:
Howard Richardson's guaranteeing the fee.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ah, the millionaire benefactor.

Jane Menzies:
Yes. Though I'm not quite sure how many of his millions he has. [exchanging a knowing glance with Barnaby] Well, some trophy wives are just more high-maintenance than others.

[last lines]

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Thank you, sir. I mean, thank you for everything, over the years. I don't think I'd be where I am if... Well, you know what I mean.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ah, rubbish. Admittedly it took me a long time to get you trained, but when I'd finally done it... Now I know how much I've, uh, I've relied on you, Troy.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Midsomer will miss you.

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
And I'll miss Midsomer.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Good luck.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Birkett... I know that name!

Sergeant Gavin Troy:
Oh, he'd a been around in your time.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
It is still my time, Troy!

[first lines]

Daniel Webster:
Trouble.

Cully Barnaby:
What?

Daniel Webster:
Incoming. My dynamic dad.

Constable Crabbe:
There's a surprising quantity of dead people in there.

Boy #1:
What are we going to shoot?

Boy #2:
Bunnies!

Harriet Davis:
Let me deal with them. We have to take our time with this.

Gerry Moore:
[lasciviously] How much time have you got?

Harriet Davis:
Enough for you no doubt, but nowhere near enough for me - as usual.

Gerry Moore:
Tell you what... I'll owe you one.

Barbara Flux:
[Repeated later by Barnaby] The hearth is the heart of the house. Curse the hearth and you curse the house.

Barbara Flux:
We like to live in the spirit of the past.

Lesley Flux:
To live the past is to understand the past.

Giles Cato:
The day may be near when we must kill to conserve.

Giles Cato:
Many great men began their careers as amateurs. Mr and Mrs Flux are, however, what one might call *rank* amateurs; rank in the sense of being off.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[as the kettle starts to whistle] Now, that's the music I like to hear, and I could murder...

Joyce Barnaby:
Tom!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What?

Jack Magwood:
Anyone for tea?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
[to Troy] You are as politically correct as a Nuremberg rally.

[Barnaby has just finished a phone conversation with Troy]

Joyce Barnaby:
Was that Sergeant Troy just now?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Yes.

Joyce Barnaby:
I'd like to meet him one day.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
No, you wouldn't.

Sergeant Troy:
[to the effeminate undertaker] Well, you can't have the body yet. All right? "Sir"?

Dennis Rainbird:
[to Barnaby] Oh! I see you've got a right constable there.

Judith Lessiter:
It's a surprise for our anniversary.

Dr Trevor Lessiter:
We've never celebrated our anniversary. By the time we got to the first one, we knew we knew there was nothing to celebrate.

D.C.I. Barnaby:
You wouldn't think, would you, one small village could have so much trouble bubbling away unto the surface.

[first lines]

Dr Trevor Lessiter:
Hello, Miss Simpson. Have a very good afternoon.

Dennis Rainbird:
Iced sombrero, constable?

Sergeant Troy:
How the other half live, eh?

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Rather less than half, I'd say, Troy.

[last lines]

D.C.I. Barnaby:
Annabella!

[first lines]

Receptionist:
Here's your package, Mr. Calder.

Eric Calder:
Oh. Thank you.

Receptionist:
You're welcome.

DCI John Barnaby:
Right. Mobile Charged?

Sarah Barnaby:
Check.

DCI John Barnaby:
Backup mobile?

Sarah Barnaby:
Check.

DCI John Barnaby:
You're sure?

Sarah Barnaby:
Mobile charged, backup charged, landline working and bat-signal primed.

DCI John Barnaby:
Right, Nelson, best behaviour. The Calder family is like royalty 'round here.

DS Charlie Nelson:
I've been, uh, brushing up on my Danish.

DCI John Barnaby:
When you say brushing up...?

DS Charlie Nelson:
I started learning last night.

DCI John Barnaby:
Right.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
So, I promised I'd be there, and I was.

Sarah Barnaby:
That is very true.

DCI John Barnaby:
Daddy always keeps his promises.

Sarah Barnaby:
Yes, he does. But maybe next time Daddy won't cut it quite so fine.

DCI John Barnaby:
Yes... Next time?

[first lines]

Gerald Woodley:
Bleeding me dry. You're bleeding me dry! You hear me?

DS Ben Jones:
Well, something's not right. The vicar says she was going to confess; they say she wasn't.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, that's religion for you, Jones. Brings out the irrational in people.

DS Ben Jones:
This village is weird.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Jones, they're *all* weird.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I have plenty of suits, thank you.

Beatrice Daniels:
Are they all like this?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Hm? Why? Wha- wha- what's wrong with this?

Beatrice Daniels:
Oh, nothing; it's just... well, maybe, peaked lapels would suit you better, and um, you need a little more structure across the shoulders; sleeves are too long, you want to flash a bit of shirtcuff, don't you; and you need a higher waist. And a little more taper in the trousers perhaps. But I mean apart from that it's, um... great.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Hello, Joyce!

Joyce Barnaby:
Uh! Tom! How *could* you? That's *my* tweed.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, I'm very sorry, Mrs Barnaby, but it is now *my* tweed. Anyway, the only question is: should I go for a ticket pocket? What do you reckon, yes or no?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Fathers and sons... it's complicated stuff.

Luke Woodley:
Yeah, complicated... that's the word.

Matthew Woodley:
There's no accounting for the human heart, is there?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Don't tell Mrs. Barnaby about this. It might give her some expensive ideas for Halloween.

[Cully holds up her father's Halloween costume]

Cully Barnaby:
Will you please try this on?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
What's that?

Joyce Barnaby:
You didn't think you were going to a Halloween party in jeans and slippers, did you, Tom?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[terrified] Oh, no.

Cully Barnaby, Joyce Barnaby:
[together] Oh, yes!

[Barnaby is dressed in a Dracula cloak for Halloween. Cully hands him a set of fangs]

Cully Barnaby:
Now, Dad, I never thought I'd have to say this to you, but... put your teeth in.

Tristan Balliol:
What's in my family - it's not just eccentric... it goes much deeper

[first lines]

Michael Bannerman:
Come in.

Audrey Monday:
Sorry, Michael. The extractor fan in the dining room has packed up again.

Michael Bannerman:
Well, you should speak to Stephen.

Audrey Monday:
I did. Yesterday.

Michael Bannerman:
All right, Audrey, I'll have a word. [pours himself a whiskey]

Audrey Monday:
It's not good for you, you know.

Michael Bannerman:
Oh, it's only a small one. Don't tell Stephen.

Audrey Monday:
I meant sitting in this room, looking at those photographs. It's three years, Michael. It's time you got on with your life.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Word of advice about your interviewing technique, Scott.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Uh, Sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Drooling, Sergeant. When taking statements from attractive female witnesses, it is not in the manual.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Drooling, Sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Drooling, Sir.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
What drooling?

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
So Bella's *not* going to throw herself into Lake Splendour then.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Huh.

Benbow:
What?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Like, uh, what's-her-name. [nods at pub sign] Jumping in the lake after her fianc?.

Benbow:
[laughs] Who told you that?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Michael Bannerman.

Benbow:
He was having you on. Girly never chucked herself into the lake. The old knight come back from the crusades. He goes straight to the manor, and there he sees *her* pleasuring his brother. So, he drags her from the bed, kills his brother stone dead, and then chucks girly into the lake.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Now that's what I call a happy ending

DCI Tom Barnaby:
How's the Modsomer film festival coming along, then?

Cully Barnaby:
Oh, great! The erotica season sold out straight away. [slyly] Don't worry, I saved you a couple of tickets.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[dourly] Oh you must be joking.

Joyce Barnaby:
[cheerfully] Oh, lovely! Thank you, darling!

Sergeant Dan Scott:
This is the sort of place you'd bring Totty, when you got nowhere else to go.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[sardonically] As beautifully put, as ever.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[beaming] Thank you sir!

DCI Tom Barnaby:
You also handed the pub over.

Michael Bannerman:
Yes, yes, yes... shown the red card.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
The... ah... the Maid in Splendor, what's that about?

Michael Bannerman:
Oh, that's a local legend! A young knight goes off to the Crusades before he can marry his beloved. And she vows to wait for him, but by the time he gets back, he's old, broken by war. She's still as beautiful as ever. Hasn't aged a day. So, to free her from her obligation, he dives into Lake Splendour and drowns.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Lake splendour?

Michael Bannerman:
Eh, that's a stagnant pond out by Hunter's Wood. The name's ironic, at least is these days.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
So the knight chucks himself in the pond, end of story?

Michael Bannerman:
No, no... no, the maid was broken-hearted. She still loved him, you see? Despite his age and infirmity. So she threw herself in the lake after him. Hence the Maid in Splendor.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
That's what I like: happy ending!

Benbow:
No work clothes.

[DCI Tom Barnaby and Sergeant Dan Scott exit The Maid in Splendour]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
So, what do you make of that?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
Typical country boozers, sir. It's only yokels and nutters.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[in a sardonic tone] Thank you Scott, that's very useful.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
And as for the maid... bloke comes back from the war, his fiance's still a bit of a looker, so he jumps into the pond. And then she jumps in afterwards. I mean, you've gotta be kidding me!

[Stephen Bannerman is relishing the closure of the Maid in Splendour's bar in the snug]

Stephen Bannerman:
You ever wonder why you lot are the only ones who use this bar? Because people come in, they see Worzel Gummidge here... an old dosser who smells like a badger's armpit...

Benbow:
Ooooohhh!

[Sergeant Dan Scott has just made a date with Cully Barnaby, to attend an Ingmar Bergman film festival]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Bergman, that's a bit heavy.

Sergeant Dan Scott:
I don't know... what, Casablanca - I could watch that again.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[nonplussed] Casablanca?

Sergeant Dan Scott:
[unabashed] Yeah. Ingrid Bergman's in Casablanca, isn't she?

[DCI Tom Barnaby's look of confusion turns into a smile]

[Reverend Grigor has gatecrashed a Cider Festival at the local brewery and is preaching fervently about the evils of alcohol. He even accuses the vicar of being a fornicator]

Samuel Quested:
Tell me, Norman. If "the other" is so wrong, how come you've got six children of your own?

[crowd laughs]

Samuel Quested:
Six we know of, that is.

[more laughter]

Rev Norman Grigor:
I can assure you, Samuel Quested, that I made those children to glorify the Lord. The act itself gave me no pleasure.

Chloe Baker:
I'm sure your wife would say the same.

[uproarious laughter]

[first lines]

Samuel Quested:
Okay. Who's next? Reuben, what do you want? Same again, mate?

Dr. Kate Wilding:
You all right?

DCI John Barnaby:
Oh, an upset stomach; I drank some of the cider and threw up.

Dr. Kate Wilding:
Well, try to vomit again if you can; better an empty house than a bad tenant.

DS Ben Jones:
Is that what passes for medical advice?

Samuel Quested:
Who will rid me of this troublesome priest?

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
Take him away.

[Grace apologises for getting carried away in the heat of the moment when she was watching the boxing match a few days before]

Grace Bishop:
Sorry for squeezing your hand like that.

[Iris looks uncomprehending]

Grace Bishop:
During the fight the other night. You must think I'm awful.

Iris Holman:
[coldly] How perceptive.

Grace Bishop:
Is that a smile? Or just your lips sliding off your teeth?

[talking about Iris Holman, Giles Braithwaite's assistant]

Grace Bishop:
I feel for that Giles, having her round him all the time. It must be like working with a stalker.

Gerald Farquaharson:
Don't let her get to you.

Grace Bishop:
Nosy cow! Fur coat and no knickers. I bet she doesn't even *have* the fur coat.

[Gerald chuckles]

Camilla Farquaharson:
[watching boxing on TV] I didn't realize they'd be fighting at four in the morning.

Sebastian Farquaharson:
They're not; they're five hours behind us.

Camilla Farquaharson:
And I thought they'd be outside.

Sebastian Farquaharson:
Why?

Camilla Farquaharson:
Well, aren't they in some sort of garden?

Sebastian Farquaharson:
[sighs] Madison Square Garden!

Camilla Farquaharson:
So I'm right.

Sebastian Farquaharson:
It's a world famous sporting arena, not bloody Kew! My wife's not known for her intellect.

Gerald Farquaharson:
Whereas my son is renowned for his charm.

Joyce Barnaby:
Iris Holman is in love with Giles Braithwaite.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
How do you know that?

Joyce Barnaby:
Oh, you'd have to be blind not to see it. Or a man.

[Jones is hammering the knocker on a door]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I think you should apply more force.

DS Ben Jones:
I'm knocking as hard as I can, sir.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Kick the door down.

DS Ben Jones:
Oh!

[last lines]

DS Ben Jones:
He got his son's wife pregnant, and gambled away his family fortune, and people like him.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I certainly did.

DS Ben Jones:
Yeah. You did screw up, didn't you, sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yes. Killed two people; carried out those murders meticulously, clinically, right under my nose. What kind of a man does that?

DS Ben Jones:
J.P. A pillar of the community.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And certainly not one of us at all.

DS Ben Jones:
My family thinks that gambling is like giving money to the Devil.

Sebastian Farquaharson:
[Seeing Camilla putting a sash around Kinsella's waist] Well, this makes a change... you helpin' himm into his clothers instead of out of them!

[Barnaby is in the local pub asking about the Oblong Foundation]

Claire Powell:
Well they're pretty harmless, as cults go.

Josie Palmer:
Harmless? Jerry and Carolyn Lambert would be spinning in their graves if they knew what was happening up the Hall - the mind control, psychological manipulation. And then there's the nudity and the orgies and the ritualised flagellations.

[the Commodore has been eavesdropping]

Commodore:
Not *all* bad, then!

Commodore:
[about Lucy] Putting her parents through *hell* like that. Two months, was it?

Millie Bullard:
I think it's got something to do with not being able to come to terms with her sexuality. Punishing them.

Commodore:
Or because they were right about the Obbies. A parent can do almost nothing worse than be right in circumstances like that.

DCI John Barnaby:
I am interested in what happened on the night of the explosion.

Crusty:
No-one was that interested in what I had to say at the time.

DCI John Barnaby:
Yes, I, uh, found a comment in the case notes. Said you seemed to be high during pretty much all of your waking hours.

Crusty:
Yeah, doesn't mean you don't hear things.

DCI John Barnaby:
I think that was his point.

DCI John Barnaby:
The killer was never apprehended.

DS Ben Jones:
No.

DCI John Barnaby:
I think it's time they were.

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
I don't think I thanked you for, uh, putting in a word.

Dr. Bullard:
Oh, call it a parting gift. I've decided I'm going to do some more fishing. Like Tom. He suggested a holiday in Ireland.

DCI John Barnaby:
Guinness and trout. Sounds good.

Dr. Bullard:
Tom is a hard act to follow. You're getting there.

Millie Bullard:
Come on, George!

DCI John Barnaby:
I hope Sykes didn't disgrace himself.

Millie Bullard:
Oh, he did make some amorous advances towards two of my b*tches which wasn't the best of starts, but I think from Sykes's point of view it was top banana.

[first lines]

Max Fuller:
[answering enterphone] Yes?

Max Fuller:
Yes, of course. This is a surprise.

Max Fuller:
How awful.

Max Fuller:
Not at all, come on up. It's the, uh, third floor.

DCI John Barnaby:
Miss Bullard says the only way she can get a handle on Sykes's personality is if she meets us both. It went well.

Sarah Barnaby:
There was no inappropriate behaviour? No leg mounting?

DCI John Barnaby:
None.

Sarah Barnaby:
And Sykes behaved himself?

DCI John Barnaby:
[Surprised to see a vacationing Jones with whisker stubble and sunglasses] Oh, very "Miami Vice!"

DS Ben Jones:
Just part of the role playing.

Susan Crane:
[as Barnaby shows up to her door to question her] Mr. Barnaby, to what do I owe the pleasure?

DCI John Barnaby:
It's an informal visit.

Susan Crane:
Oh, dear! That normally means you'll be asking me for information. I shouldn't really be going out.

DCI John Barnaby:
You've seen through me straight away.

Susan Crane:
[laughs] Well, I suppose the worst I can do is say no.

DCI John Barnaby:
I'll try my luck then.

Sarah Barnaby:
So Paddy was a lazy, good-for-nothing husband!

DCI John Barnaby:
Everybody has a place in the world.

DS Ben Jones:
It's sad we met the way we did.

Ruth Lambert:
For a while there I thought I might have been the real thing... Ah... I suppose once I've given you this, you'll have got all you need from me, and we'll be able to go our separate ways.

DS Ben Jones:
Ruth, Ruth, I'm sorry we met the way we did as well.

Ruth Lambert:
Broken... can't be mended. Shame but there we are.

DS Ben Jones:
The Robsons moved here in the 90s when Alan Robson hit it big.

DCI John Barnaby:
What's his line?

DS Ben Jones:
Computers. He developed a chess game called Knight To King. Made millions.

DCI John Barnaby:
Clever man, then.

DS Ben Jones:
More like a geek.

DCI John Barnaby:
The geek shall inherit the earth!

[last lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
"Grieving may be universal, but we must express it in our own unique way".

DS Ben Jones:
Sigmund Freud.

[revealing that it was a quotation from his own university thesis "The Birth of Grief, Memory and Loss in Human Evolution"]

DCI John Barnaby:
John Barnaby, 1988, Durham University.

[first lines]

DCI John Barnaby:
[holding sombreros] Remember these?

Sarah Barnaby:
[laughs] I try hard not to.

DCI John Barnaby:
1996, we bought these in Puerto Vallarta; you wore a red dress.

Sarah Barnaby:
Los Cabos, and the dress was blue.

DCI John Barnaby:
[to Sykes] Least I got the year right.

DCI John Barnaby:
[follows Sarah outside] We went dancing in these.

Sarah Barnaby:
Yeah, that's Tequina for you. Right. Boxes are for charity, bags are for recycling; so, take your pick.

DCI John Barnaby:
You can't give these to charity.

Sarah Barnaby:
No, you're right; no-one's that desperate. Recycling it is then.

DCI John Barnaby:
Well, have you no heart, woman? These are part of our history, our memories.

Sarah Barnaby:
These are ten dollar sombreros.

DCI John Barnaby:
Exactly; they weren't cheap. Now come on, put this on. Do your Clint.

Sarah Barnaby:
I'm not doing my Clint.

DCI John Barnaby:
Come on, do your Clint; you know you want to.

Sarah Barnaby:
[mimicking Eastwood] "In this world there's two kinds of people, my friend; those with loaded guns and those who dig. You dig."

Sarah Barnaby:
My dad disapproved of John when he first met him.

DCI John Barnaby:
Until I won him over with my charm.

Sarah Barnaby:
He took him to the pub and got the poor man drunk.

DCI John Barnaby:
Very low alcohol tolerance, bless him.

DCI John Barnaby:
To be young and in love, eh.

DS Ben Jones:
Couple of months they'll be nagging each other like the rest of us.

DCI John Barnaby:
So cynical!

[John Carver coughs yet again]

Jeff Bowmaker:
Johnny, you must do something about that cough... like die!

[last lines]

Joyce Barnaby:
Tom? What is it?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Ah, nothing. Let's go home.

Jeff Bowmaker:
[n the graveyard] Be careful where you walk. We don't want to disturb the residents.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
This must have been a bust community... full of hope, full of despair.

[a disembowelled body has just been discovered and pathologist Kate Wilding is examining it]

DCI John Barnaby:
Should I assume his assailant was a man?

Dr. Kate Wilding:
Well it's a hard job opening a body up like this. On the other hand, I'm a woman and it's all in a day's work for me.

DCI John Barnaby:
I'll need an analysis of this.

Dr. Kate Wilding:
Type of cloth no problem. Origin may take a little longer.

DCI John Barnaby:
Want to take a guess?

Dr. Kate Wilding:
No. Amateurs guess. And then they apologize afterwards.

[first lines]

Evan Jago:
Whitney, come. Whitney! C'mon, Whitney.

[last lines]

Sarah Barnaby:
Look! Solid gold. It's part of a Saxon hoard that's lain here for a thousand years. It's a cloak brooch. Beautiful, isn't it?

DS Ben Jones:
Worth how much?

Sarah Barnaby:
Oh, half a million?

Eric:
Easily.

Sarah Barnaby:
Maybe more.

[Jones whistles]

DCI John Barnaby:
That much? Really. Whoof.

[to Jones]

DCI John Barnaby:
Come on.

[slips it in his pocket]

Sarah Barnaby:
John. John!

Dr. Kate Wilding:
[about the corpse] It's pretty gruesome.

DCI John Barnaby:
I've got a strong stomach.

Dr. Kate Wilding:
Unlike the victim, who lacks a stomach entirely. He's been disemboweled.

DCI John Barnaby:
You're having an affair, aren't you?

Aidan Hardy:
Well, it's not illegal.

DCI John Barnaby:
No. But it can can lead to things that are.

Caradoc Singer:
It was Alfred Watkins who developed the theory of ley lines. He put it down to early man finding the quickest route between two points. Nothing more to it. To suggest they have mystical power is waffle.

DCI John Barnaby:
Druids believe it.

Caradoc Singer:
My point exactly.

[talking about alternative medicine and its remedies]

Scott:
People pay for stuff like that?

Barnaby:
Things you buy from a proper chemist - they're just a purified version.

Scott:
Oh sure. "Doctor, it's my throat." "Never mind, madam. Suck a frog three times a day after meals."

[Barnaby and Sgt. Scott have just arrived at the scene of the burnt straw woman]

Scott:
Nice night for a barbeque.

[first lines]

Margaret Hopkins:
Evening, Vicar. Encouraging turnout.

Rev Jim Hale:
Indeed.

[last lines]

Kate Malpas:
Do you know why that pub's called 'The Oak'?

Barnaby:
No.

Kate Malpas:
Used to be an old tree in that spot. The first Katherine Malpas was hanged there, with all the other so-called witches.

Barnaby:
Hanged?

Kate Malpas:
There were no witches burned in this village; only straw women. Still, everyone loves a good bonfire, eh.

[about his cancer]

Alan Clifford:
I didn't fancy chemo. I thought about it, but then I thought no, I'd rather go out with my hair on and my trousers down.

Hugh Dalgleish:
Hello, Marcia. Lady Bracknell at home, is she?

Marcia Macintyre:
[stiffly] I believe Matilda's expecting you.

Hugh Dalgleish:
Jolly good. You be careful. Don't crack a smile or anything.

DC Gail Stephens:
What you got there?

DS Ben Jones:
Couple of years ago the Governor suspected Mayor Hicks of a dodgy property deal, so he's kept this file on him. Complaints mainly. Wants me to search for anything interesting.

DC Gail Stephens:
He's obsessed.

DS Ben Jones:
No. Just sick of petty corruption downtown. And obsessed.

DCI John Barnaby:
[about Lady Matilda] Talk about a dinosaur,

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Yeah, got one in every village, John. They deter social change.

DCI John Barnaby:
That one would deter evolution.

[last lines]

Lady Matilda William:
Well, things to be done. Duties. Always duties. You will excuse us.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Lady Matilda.

Lady Matilda William:
Come along, Richard. People to visit; gardens to tend.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[When Jenny asks a favor of Barnaby and puts her hand on his kneee, he removes it] That's not really my area.

Lady Matilda William:
[Reacting to a proposal from Dagleish] It's wrong. My God would say it's wrong.

Hugh Dalgleish:
Just as well. You own his church then even if you can't afford his roof.

DCI John Barnaby:
[Referring to the decapitated Dagliesh] So, uh, starting with the obvious, did this Dagliesh have any enemies?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
God, John, he had ONLY enemies.

DCI John Barnaby:
So he won't be missed?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Heh, no. They'll be dancing in the streets.

DCI John Barnaby:
[Sarcastically] Log it in as a shaving accident then.

Jenny Russell:
[Yelling at her ex-husband Bill, whom she has thrown off the bus] And if I ever see you in Causton again, I'll chop your bits off.

DS Ben Jones:
[to the uncooperative bank manager] The Law is like The Bible. You can always find one quote to contradict another.

Rev Giles Shawcross:
[Turning to Barnaby, who is sitting next to him on the bus] Have you ever been really terrified?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
[Tongue-in-cheek] Not until now, Giles.

Rev Giles Shawcross:
That ruined pier... it says a thousand things.

Lady Matilda William:
Like what?

Rev Giles Shawcross:
Well, the futility of man's efforts at self-aggrandisement, moral decline...

Lady Matilda William:
It says the pier burnt down. Good God, no wonder the church is empty! Now, go and find Marcia and tell her I want a cup of tea.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Your informant has got to be right, hasn't he, about Ince setting up a job. What other interest could he have in a stately home?

DS Ben Jones:
Maybe he's come for a dose of culture and the guided tour. Although George does prefer to guide himself around places like this.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
And usually by torchlight when there's no-one else about.

[last lines]

DCI Tom Barnaby:
I think he'd be very pleased, very proud, if he could hear you saying that.

DS Ben Jones:
Sir?

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Well, obviously he saved his best performance for last.

DCI Tom Barnaby:
Tight budet... this film?

Jack Braxton:
Like a tourniquet.

Nick Cheyney:
[to Raymond] What makes you think I want a disruptive old queen like you anywhere near my set?

Nick Cheyney:
Am I being threatened?

Leonie Charteris:
Yes, you are.

Danny Twyman:
The only kind of relationship they had was the sort than happens after a fifty p a pint night in the student bar.

Raymond Clandillon:
[to Barnaby] You'd be surprised how little someone will settle for when they're in love.

Barnaby:
I'm not 100% certain about your interview technique, Scott. But it certainly gets results.

Scott:
Thank you, sir.

Barnaby:
That's something you picked up at the Met, is it?

Scott:
Could be.

Barnaby:
Do you want to go back there?

Scott:
No. I quite like it here.

Barnaby:
Good.

Scott:
Yeah. I think I might change my job, though.

Barnaby:
Hmmm?

Scott:
Well, there's a shortage of funeral directors in the area. I could make a fortune.