Episode Eleven – "A Matter of Murder"
 

Dennis Brent : Gasp.

Ian Devine : Wobble.

Steve : Who is it, Sir Graham?

Temple : I think I know who it is.

Sir Graham : You do?

Temple : Unless I’m very must mistaken it’s Mr Wicks.

Dennis Brent : Wicks? As in my Wicks? Broad fellow, no moustache?

Sir Graham : By George, Temple, how did you know?

Steve : You mean how did he know that the man who may or may not have been murdered by the blackmailer, Alan, who has already kidnapped Dennis Brent and murdered his brother Donald Brent, was Mr Wicks who is a friend of Dennis Brent and who lives with Mr Grantham, both of whom were mentioned in Dennis Brent’s will and who therefore had a financial motive to kill him?

Sir Graham : Yes.

Steve : I expect it was masculine intuition!

Temple : Oh Steve!

Grantham : I can’t believe it.

Temple : I’m afraid it’s true.

Grantham : But he was the most alive person I ever shared lodgings with.

Dennis Brent : Well he isn’t any more.

Grantham : That would’ve been richly comic under less tragic circumstances, Dennis Brent.

Dennis Brent : You make a sensible point. I shall forward a note of apology by the next post.

Grantham : Thank you.

Dennis Brent : Second class, naturally.

Grantham : Naturally.

Temple : I understand the body was found in your bungalow, Mr Grantham.

Sir Graham : That’s correct, Temple. Their Brazilian houseboy-cum-cleaner found him.

Grantham : Paulo always was observant. But very discrete. And cheap. Very cheap.

Sir Graham : Mr Wicks was identified by Mr Grantham and had been shot through the chest by a gun.

Temple : I see. Where were you this afternoon, Mr Grantham?

Grantham : I had an appointment with my accountant in Shagford.

Sir Graham : Do you have his telephone number?

Grantham : It’s here in my wallet. He’s my next of kin.

Sir Graham : A relative?

Grantham : No – just the first person who should be informed of my death. He has certain instructions which would be of no interest to you I’m sure.

Sir Graham : Had you and Mr Wicks quarrelled?

Grantham : Never. Never a cross word passed his lips. He was the finest chap I ever knew.

Dennis Brent : (cough)

Grantham : Even finer than you, Dennis Brent.

Ian Devine : Gasp.

Dennis Brent : Good lord.

Grantham : I simply can’t believe that someone would brutally shoot him through the chest.

Temple : Did the two of you have many friends?

Grantham : There was Dennis Brent and of course Ian Devine.

Temple : Any others?

Dennis Brent : No.

Ian Devine : Definitely not.

Grantham : We were members of a local specialist group. They hold specialist evenings every month and Wicks was the life and soul of the party.

Dennis Brent : I knew nothing of this.

Ian Devine : I always found Wicks rather tedious – how on earth was he the life and soul of the party? I’m much more interesting than he is.

Grantham : He had a repertoire of impersonations. His Terrance Dicks was especially fine. He used to put Terrance in all manner of incongruous locations. I swear he could slip his Dicks anywhere he set his mind to and bring pleasure to everyone in the room.

Temple : Did you know he was being blackmailed?

Grantham : Of course – the blackmail man…

Temple : No, not by the blackmail man. By Alan.

Grantham : The man who kidnapped Dennis Brent and murdered Donald Brent? I wouldn’t be surprised. Everyone in Bendaton seems to be involved in "The Alan Affair".

Dennis Brent : It’s "The Dennis Affair" actually.

Grantham : My apologies. Bereavement is no excuse for slackness.

Sir Graham : Can you think of anyone who held a grudge against Mr Wicks?

Grantham : Certainly not. He was a most jovial and generous person, within sensible budgetary limits of course. He was not a man to splash his generosity around w-i-l-l-y nilly.

Temple : By Timothy, what was that?

Sir Graham : It sounded like it came from upstairs.

Steve : Oh Paul! You don’t think the killer is still here do you?

Temple : Stay here, Steve. Come on, Sir Graham.

Grantham : There really is no need… oh bother, they’ve gone.

Dennis Brent : Is there someone upstairs?

Grantham : Well, technically, yes.

Dennis Brent : I am surprised.

Grantham : Why? Because you feel you should be notified in writing of the acquaintances that I invite into my home to help me through this most difficult of times?

Dennis Brent : Partly, yes, but mainly because you live in a bungalow.

Grantham : Good lord, you’re right. It must be a pigeon landing on the roof.

Ian Devine : Mmmm – pigeon pie. A rare treat since they move so unfairly swiftly.

Dennis Brent : Could the killer be hiding in your attic?

Grantham : Erm, well I doubt it’s the killer, I erm… well…

Temple : Look who we found in the attic.

Dennis Brent : Good heavens!

Ian Devine : Oh my word!

Steve : Golly.

Sir Graham : Upon my soul.

Grantham : I can explain.

Temple : Can you, Mr Grantham? Can you explain why Mr Liam McLean was hiding in your attic?

Grantham : I imagine he became stuck up there…

Liam McLean : … having gone up there in the first place…

Grantham : …because he saw smoke and like a good neighbour who lives strictly speaking in another village…

Liam McLean : …I popped up there to make sure nothing was ablaze…

Grantham : …and naturally enough he browsed a few of the packing cases up there…

Liam McLean : …and happened upon a bag of still surprisingly fresh pastries which Mr Grantham, who I have rarely ever met before, was storing for a possible future shortage…

Grantham : …and hence he couldn’t get back down again but because Mr McLean, who I have seldom ever met before, is a gentleman he preferred to stay silently in the attic…

Liam McLean : …rather than cause a disturbance…

Grantham : …and wait for nature to take her natural course and allow him to fit through the attic…

Liam McLean : …hole.

Temple : Do you know what I think?