Secret Army – Guilt (26th October 1977)

Carrying on the story from Lost Sheep, Guilt is an episode of two halves. The first is rather low-key (but not without interest) but it’s the second half where the plot really kicks into gear.

Curtis is smarting that the RAF’s latest technological wonder has been splashed all over the papers (thanks to the loose-lipped Peter Romsey) and becomes desperate to find out who betrayed Romsey and Victor. So he heads out into the French countryside, with the untrusting Lifeline close on his heels ….

Albert is the most suspicious about Curtis’ motives. Director Paul Annett heightens the pressure during these early scenes by ensuring that the camera tightly frames each member of Lifeline as they debate what to do. The decision is made to send Monique after Curtis – to observe what he does and liquidate him if he turns out to be a spy.

This gives Angela Richards a little more to do than usual. Up until this point in the series her main plot function has been to complain at regular intervals about the way Albert pays more attention to his wife than he does to her. Don’t worry though, she still manages to do that today.

For a while it looks like Monique has Curtis closely under tabs, even if she appears to be hideously conspicuous (her dark glasses don’t help). Thankfully, Curtis turns out to be a sharp operator and has been aware of her presence all along. In the episode’s first key scene he confronts her in a two-hander that crackles with energy. “I worry about being shot, getting caught, being tortured. So what’s new apart from that?”

Peter Barkworth and Joanna Van Gyseghem don’t really feature until the last twenty minutes or so. That makes sense since the characters of Hugh Neville and his wife Dorothy were well established in the previous episode . In this one there’s merely the question of establishing their guilt or innocence.

After curfew, Curtis calls on them – begging a bed for the night. For some reason, Curtis is affecting a Leeds accent (or so he says) which is a tad distracting, but once the scene really kicks into gear it proves to be less of a problem. This is the point where the episode really picks up momentum as Barkworth and Neame face off (with Van Gyseghem stuck in the middle as a rather baffled outsider).

It doesn’t take much prompting by Curtis for Neville to reveal his hatred of war. “I should have been playing cricket for my school but I was fighting on the Somme instead. Mud, filth, corpses, so many corpses it was hideous. Your country needs you. I saw screaming men trying to hold in their own intestines”.

There then follows a philosophical debate where the honours are about even. But early next morning, Neville’s admission that he told the police about Romsey seals his fate. Curtis, flick knife in hand, advances menacingly although it’s interesting that we don’t see the blow struck (nor, when Dorothy later returns, his body). Instead, Van Gyseghem is required to sell this key moment purely by her reaction.

The episode’s coda (a battered and weary Curtis travels back on the train to Belgium with Monique) is almost (no pun intended) derailed by some very obvious CSO. But the quality of their conversation – Curtis admitting that Neville was the first man he’d killed face to face (dropping bombs doesn’t count) – saves the day.

This is a slow burner of an episode, but once it gets going it carries a real punch. Curtis reveals that he liked Neville, but he had to be executed anyway. That it’s possible to see why Neville acted the way he did (and even to sympathise with him) is what makes Traitor so powerful. Secret Army rarely produced simplistic stories of good & evil/black & white and that’s one reason why the series stands up so well today.

Secret Army – Lost Sheep (26th October 1977)

En route to Paris via the escape route, Flight Lieutenant Peter Romsey (Christopher Guard), is separated from his colleagues. Disembarking from his train in a rural French village, he desperately searches for help – eventually stumbling across an English writer, Hugh Neville (Peter Barkworth), who appears to offer sanctuary ….

Lost Sheep opens in a fairly striking way. During this first scene where Curtis interrogates Romsey, the airman remains seated and passive whilst Curtis strides up and down – almost bumping into the camera. So while Curtis is foregrounded and creating an oppressive figure, Romsey and Lisa (silently smoking) are placed in the background.

Out of the regulars, Curtis probably gets the most to do. Later – when Romsey’s identity has been verified – the pair have a convivial chat, but even this early on it’s clear that Romsey is something of a liability (the navigator of an advanced Mosquito, he carries in his head information that the Germans would dearly love – and he seems distressingly happy to chat about such things at the drop of a hat).

N.J. Crisp’s script (the first of nine Secret Army efforts) is really centered around the guest performers. Guard is perfectly cast as the seemingly naïve and far too trusting Romsey. Although given that he’s a veteran of many hazardous flight missions it may be that, as opined by Curtis, he’s simply burnt out and is no longer thinking clearly.

After all, instead of trying to make his way to Paris, he stumbles around asking perfect strangers for help – seemingly trusting that they won’t turn him in. His first approach (a fisherman) does fetch the local police, but luckily Romsey had made a dash for it by then.

So he ends up at a palatal house owned by Hugh Neville and his wife Dorothy (Joanna Van Gyseghem). Dorothy is instantly welcoming, but Neville himself, whilst convivial, keeps his own counsel. Peter Barkworth was no stranger to WW2, having spent the best part of six months starring in Manhunt (a sometimes engrossing, sometimes infuriating LWT drama) and his casting is a major plus point. Barkworth never gave a bad performance and there’s plenty to enjoy and mull over in this one.

Neville is an English writer firmly ensconced in France. He doesn’t share Romsey’s patriotic leanings (“I was on the Somme in the Great War. Saw a generation slaughtered for nothing”). And later, Neville snorts at the idea that France will one day be liberated – for him, life has gone on under German occupation pretty much as it always has. Thanks to the area’s rich farmland, there’s no such thing as rationing and he claims never to have seen a German soldier in the area.

This statement is undercut by the very next scene, in which Dorothy – out cycling – spies numerous German troops beginning an intensive search for Romsey. At first it’s possible to believe that Neville is a fantasist who up to this point has simply ignored anything unpleasant, but later it does seem that the Germans have only just moved into the area, so his comments – self-centered though they may be – do seem to be accurate.

Dorothy isn’t as well-drawn a character, but there’s still enough there for Van Gyseghem to work with. Given that she and her husband exist in an atmosphere of chilly politeness, it’s possibly not too difficult to work out why Dorothy greets the arrival of a handsome young stranger so warmly (although this is never spelled out explicitly).

Plot-wise, Lost Sheep then stumbles a little. Given that Neville is the only Englishman in the area, his house would be the obvious place to find Romsey – and yet the Germans never search there. Instead, Neville’s friend – Inspector Pierre Dubois (Bruce Montague) – does so but makes sure to give him fair warning. Barkworth and Montague share several nice scenes, ones in which Dubois and Neville carry out two very different conversations at the same time (one implicit, one explicit).

Credibility is also stretched by the fact that not only do Lifeline have a man – Victor (Ivor Roberts) – in the area, but he also manages to locate Romsey with embarrassing ease. If he could do so, why couldn’t Brandt and his merry men?

After an episode of tension, there seems to be a happy ending – Victor leads Romsey away to safety. But there’s an ambush and Victor is shot dead whilst Rosmey is delivered into the welcoming hands of Brandt. And, as feared, it seems likely that the charming Brandt will be able to get the ingenious Romsey to talk ….

Had this been a single episode story, then this ending would have been nicely ambiguous.  It’s hinted that Neville may have betrayed Romsey to save his own skin, but it’s equally likely that Dubious – convinced that Neville was sheltering Romsey but possessing no proof – could have decided to stake the place out.

As it is, Crisp will develop and conclude the story in next week’s episode – Guilt.

Armchair Theatre – Office Party (17th August 1971)


Fay Weldon’s Office Party might not be the sharpest ever AT, but it’s still of interest – partly since it’s a good example of the studio-bound ITV play (something which would gradually disappear from the schedules) but also because Weldon’s script offers up plenty of food for thought regarding gender politics (even if the problems she creates are resolved rather neatly by the end).

The setting is a bank, after hours, where the staff have convened to wish their manager (played by George A. Cooper) a fond-ish farewell.  Cooper plays to type as a plain-speaking man who is well aware that he’s not particularly loved (or even well liked) but still condones the party. Perhaps he likes receiving presents.

Also slotting into a familiar role is Peter Barkworth as his number two, Dickie. Barkworth seemed to spend most of his career playing buttoned-down types who had a distinct code of old fashioned honour.  At first, Dickie seems to regard his secretary, Julia (Angharad Rees), with nothing but contempt, but by the end of the play he’s mellowed considerably.

Rees exudes an undeniable sexiness – especially when she arrives at the party wearing a somewhat revealing dress. This inflames the passions of some of her colleagues (Giles Block and Peter Denyer both give good turns in this respect).  Roy (Block) seems somewhat put out when he tells Julia that he’s placed her top of his list of most desirable office females (she fails to respond in the manner he expects).

If Rees is vulnerable at times then Ray Brooks is rather boorish as Dave (Julia’s boyfriend). He exhibits little loyalty towards her, even after learning that she’s pregnant, and seems much more interested in squiring another young lady round the party and telling Roy all about his liaisons with Julia in the stationery cupboard. Dave is an alpha male – friendship with his male buddies comes first, a relationship with his girlfriend is a distant second.

The clash between Julia and Dave midway through is clearly one of the play’s key points. At this stage it looks as if any sort of relationship between them will be impossible (marriage is certainly out of the question). There’s a happy ending though as the pair reconcile in the last minutes which means that everything seems to be settled. Although given that both have rather volatile natures, possibly we’re invited to not expect them to live happily ever after ….

Elsewhere, I did enjoy the confrontation between Barkworth and Cooper late on. Julia is, once again, the topic of conversation, with the outgoing manager insistent that she be sacked whilst Dickie shows a more compassionate side to his nature by standing by her.

That Dickie, when learning of Julia’s pregnancy, offers her a chair feels exactly like the sort of thing you’d expect a character played by Barkworth to do. Julia remains passive as the men debate her fate (at one point turning her bare back on them) but she does eventually speak up.

Office Party has some good comic moments, along with a first rate cast to play them, and overall it still stands up well. As I’ve said, it maybe doesn’t entirely satisfy, but there are far worse ways to spend fifty minutes.


The Price – Simply Media DVD Review

price dvd.jpg

Geoffrey Carr (Peter Barkworth) might be a successful businessman (he’s a key player in the burgeoning computer industry) but his private life is far less straightforward. Recently married to Frances (Harriet Walter), their relationship is best described as testy. Possibly due to the fact that she’s much younger than he is, they struggle to find any common ground whilst Claire (Frances’ headstrong teenage daughter from a previous marriage) is a further complication.

Geoffrey dutifully continues trying to please Frances though – even going to the expense of buying a crumbling Georgian house in the place where she grew up – County Wicklow, Ireland.

But the mid eighties is a period when the Troubles were at their height and as a wealthy Briton he proves to be an irresistible target. Frank Crossan (Derek Thompson), an IRA killer on the run, teams up with an idealistic teacher called Kate (Aingeal Grehan). Their plan is simple – kidnap Frances and Clare and demand a hefty ransom from Geoffrey. The resolution is far more complex though ….

Broadcast in six episodes during early 1985. The Price boasts strong performances from all the major players. It should go without saying that Peter Barkworth (1926 – 2006) is exemplary as Geoffrey, a man caught between the twin pincers of police interference and the machinations of high finance. Barkworth rarely, if ever, gave a bad performance and Geoffrey is a typically layered creation.

Peter Barkworth

It would be easy enough for Geoffrey – a self-centered but essentially decent man – to be portrayed in a fairly one-note manner, but Barkworth’s nuanced performance essays something much more subtle and ultimately much more satisfying.

Harriet Walter (b. 1950) continues to enjoy a very successful career (The Crown and Star Wars: The Force Awakens are amongst her recent credits). Frances is introduced as something of a contradictory person – she admits that she married Geoffrey for his money, but gets upset whenever he attempts to do any work. But once she’s kidnapped her character goes through a radical transformation.

An interesting piece of casting, in retrospect, saw the fourteen year old Susanna Reid playing Clare. This was her only television acting role (during the last fifteen years or so she’s become a very recognisable British television face – first as a newsreader and then as a breakfast television host).

Susannah Reid

Derek Thompson may have seemingly been playing the level-headed Charlie Fairhead in Casualty since the dawn of recorded time, but prior to checking into Holby City back in 1986 he essayed a variety of roles on both sides of the law. He was a regular on The Gentle Touch between 1980 and 1982 (as DS Jimmy Fenton) but during the late seventies and the early to mid eighties he could often be found playing baddies (The Long Good Friday, The Wild Geese 2 and – of course – The Price). Since Thompson was born in Belfast, the role of Frank Crossan gave him a rare opportunity to drop back into the Irish idiom.

Familiar faces such as Simon Jones, Hugh Fraser and Adrian Dunbar are welcome additions to the cast.

The opening scenes of the first episode intercuts between Frances (trying on expensive jewellery in a swanky shop) and Frank (holed up in a house on a graffiti-ridden estate, picking off British soldiers with a high powered rifle). That they live in two totally different worlds is immediately obvious but the intercutting hammers the point home.

Early on we get a sense of the tensions that exist between Geoffrey and Frances. “I can’t stand you” she screams. Barkworth’s ability to express a world of hurt with a single expression is put to good use here.

The closing scene of the first episode explodes in a burst of violence as Frances and Clare are snatched from their car by a posse of masked raiders. Kate may have been initially presented as someone keen to pursue the struggle for Irish independence peacefully, but here she’s keen for Frank to shoot a fleeing child who witnessed the kidnapping. As Frank, a hardened IRA man, couldn’t bring himself to fire, it’s a character moment that should be filed away for later.

Derek Thompson & Aingeal Grehan

Old computer hands will probably appreciate the opening few moments of episode two. Not only are there some chunky PCs on display but there’s also the slow, but steady, report of a dot matrix printer. It’s printing out news of Frances and Clare’s kidnap (this is a neat way of recapping the events of episode one without having to spell it out verbally).

As the pressure begins to mount, Barkworth excels as Geoffrey – a fundamentally decent man – is pushed and pulled in numerous directions. The police advise him not to pay the ransom – at least not at first – but how can he refuse when lives are at stake? Lansbury (Simon Jones) and Simon (David Lyon) are both on hand to help and advise (Lansbury works for Geoffrey’s company, Simon is an insurance man and a kidnap specialist).

But even if he wants to pay the ransom, how can he afford it? He’s simply not as wealthy as the kidnappers believe him to be and if he attempts to unfreeze his assets or sell any shares then he faces the possibility of losing control of his company. Does he love his wife and step-daughter that much? As the title states, is he prepared to pay the price?

The grim surroundings that Frances and Claire find themselves in (plus Claire’s asthma attacks) makes their incarceration even more of a nightmare. They at least have each other for company, but things are far from easy. Walter and Reid shine during these scenes, especially since the relationship between mother and daughter is very fluid – one minute loving, the next combative.

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Harriet Walter and Susannah Reid

As the serial wears on and Frances becomes grimier and more desperate, so the tension begins to ramp up even more. Her transformation – from spoilt society queen to a hardened fighter – is a highlight of the latter part of the story, thanks to Harriet Walter’s performance (in the last few episodes things get especially dark for Frances).

The twisted relationship which can often exist between captor and captive is well drawn out too. Frank despises Frances and all she stands for … and yet. On her side, she’s content to play along with his mood swings – she’ll do anything if it means she can guarantee freedom for herself and Clare. Meanwhile, Geoffrey and his team are making their way to the rendezvous point with the money whilst the police attempt to follow ….

Needless to say, things don’t go to plan and the concluding episode develops into a tense stand-off between the kidnappers and the police. The violence, when it comes, is short and ugly. This occurs about fifteen minutes from the end, which then leaves ample time for those left alive to reflect on events.

An all-film production, picture-wise The Price is in a pretty good condition.  The unrestored prints obviously show dirt and damage but it’s comparable to other releases of a similar vintage.

Despite being six episodes long, The Price never feels drawn out. Peter Barkworth, Harriet Walter and Derek Thompson all excel whilst the supporting cast provides solid support. A taut character-based drama, The Price grips throughout and comes highly recommended.

The Price is released on the 15th of April 2018, RRP £24.99 by Simply Media.  It can be ordered directly from Simply here.

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Derek Thompson & Aingeal Grehan

The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes – The Case of Laker, Absconded


Peter Barkworth as Martin Hewett in The Case of Laker, Absconded by Arthur Morrison
Adapted by Philip Mackie.  Directed by Jonathan Alwyn

Martin Hewitt (Peter Barkworth) and Jonathan Pryde (Ronald Hines) have a new contract.  They’ve been retained by the City Guarantee Society, an insurance company who guarantee the integrity of bank employees.  So in the case of fraud or theft, the City Guarantee Society are naturally keen for the culprit to be apprehended as quickly as possible.  And so are Hewitt and Pryde (they earn no fee, but collect a percentage of the monies recovered).

The case of a junior bank clerk called Laker seems to be open and shut.  Laker is a walk-clerk, responsible for collecting money from various banks during his round and then returning it to his own bank – Messrs Liddle, Neal & Liddle.  But after collecting fifteen thousand pounds, he disappears.

His fiance, Emily Shaw (Jane Lapotaire), remains convinced of his innocence and she begs Hewitt to help her.  When the evidence of his guilt starts to pile up, even she starts to doubt him.  But Hewitt wonders if some of the trail is just a little obvious – it’s almost as if he wanted to be tracked.  Emily tells Hewitt that Laker is a clever man, so why has he acted in such a careless way, throwing clues about?

The Case of Laker, Absconded was the third and final Martin Hewitt story by Arthur Morrison to be adapted for the first series of The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes.  The original story appeared in The Chronicles of Martin Hewitt, published in 1895, and it can be read here.

Jonathan Pryde, the Hewitt substitute from The Case of the Dixon Torpedo appears briefly, but this is very much Hewitt’s case.  He spends the majority of the episode in the company of Emily Shaw and together they attempt to prove or disprove Laker’s guilt.  Barkworth is his usual solid self and Jane Lapotaire impresses as a woman who remains unswervingly devoted to her finance – even though all the evidence suggests that’s he’s jilted her and run away to the continent with a horde of stolen money.

There’s two possible solutions to the story and it quickly becomes clear which is the more likely.  So this isn’t a complex or surprising tale – instead the enjoyment comes from the lead performances of Barkworth and Lapotaire, as well as some of the supporting cast.

Chief amongst these are Leslie Dwyer and Toke Townley as two lost property men at the local railway station.  Laker’s lost umbrella (which Hewitt recovers) is a minor plot point, but the main pleasure in these scenes is the comic timing of Dwyer and Townley.

Toke Townley isn’t the only connection to Emmerdale (he played Sam Pearson from 1972 to 1984) as Mr Wilks himself, Arthur Pentelow, appears as Inspector Plummer.  Like many of the other policemen in the series, he’s always a couple of steps behind the private detective but Plummer doesn’t seem to mind – especially since with Hewitt’s help he manages to round up a dangerous gang of crooks.

The Case of Laker, Absconded brought the first series of The Rivals to a close.  Overall, it was a very consistent run of episodes with some strong central performances from the various detectives.  The series would return for a second, and final, series – which promised new detectives and more baffling cases for them to solve.

The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes – The Affair of the Tortoise


Peter Barkworth as Martin Hewitt in The Affair of the Tortoise by Arthur Morrison
Adapted by Bill Craig. Directed by Bill Bain

Martin Hewitt (Peter Barkworth) visits Miss Chapman (Cyd Hayman) to inform her that she stands to inherit a considerable fortune, following the death of a distant relative.  As Miss Chapman lives in genteel poverty, this is very welcome news.

When Hewitt is talking to her, he hears a dreadful din coming from elsewhere in the house.  Miss Chapman explains that the noise is made by one of the other residents – Rameau (Stephan Kalipha).  He’s a very strange fellow, he favours sliding down the bannisters, is frequently drunk and makes the life of Goujon (Timothy Bateson) a misery by playing practical jokes on him.

When Rameau’s latest practical joke results in the death of Goujon’s beloved tortoise, Goujon declares that he’ll kill him.  And shortly afterwards, the maid Millie (Cheryl Hall) discovers Rameau on the floor of his rooms, covered in blood, with an axe beside him.

It’s a clear case of murder – but when the police enter the room, Rameau’s body is gone.  Goujon has also left and he’s obviously the prime suspect – but Miss Chapman isn’t convinced and she commissions Hewitt to investigate.  Another resident, Captain Cutler (Esmond Knight), tells Hewitt that he’s seen a man hanging around for a while, watching for Rameau.  The discovery of a voodoo doll in Rameau’s rooms and the knowledge that the man lived in fear of strangers are enough to convince Hewitt that there’s more to this case than meets the eye.

Like The Case of the Dixon Torpedo, this was written by Arthur Morrison and appeared in the collection of stories entitled Martin Hewitt, Investigator which was published in 1894.  The book can be read here.

But unlike the Dixon Torpedo, Martin Hewitt appears in this adaptation and he’s expertly played by Peter Barkworth.  One of the pleasures of watching archive television on a regular basis is that you tend to see the same faces appear again and again.  Recently I’ve seen Barkworth in an episode of Out of the UnknownTo Lay a Ghost as well as an early edition of Public EyeNobody Kills Santa Claus.  Any performance by Peter Barkworth is worth treasuring since he was such a meticulous, tidy actor and he fits the role of Martin Hewitt (modest, undemonstrative but forthright) perfectly.

Not only was he a first class actor, but he taught at RADA during the late 1950’s and early 1960’s and the likes of Anthony Hopkins, Simon Ward and Diana Rigg were amongst his pupils. He later remarked that “of all the jobs I have ever had, teaching at RADA is the one I should least like to have missed”.

With Barkworth providing a solid foundation as Hewitt, he was supported by a very decent cast of fellow actors.  The gorgeous Cyd Hayman had appeared alongside him the year previously in the WW2 drama Manhunt, whilst Timothy Bateson makes a decent attempt at a French accent and Stefan Kalipha is suitably unhinged as Rameau.  As neither Bateson or Kalipha have a great deal of screen-time, they have to make a strong impression early on, which they both do.

Cyd Hayman
Cyd Hayman

Inspector Nettings (Dan Meaden) naturally favours Goujan as the murderer, but when it’s proved that he’s innocent, the policeman is in a bit of a quandary.  It’s a staple of detective fiction to have the police baffled whilst the private detective runs rings around them, but even allowing for this, Nettings is exceptionally dim.  As Hewitt says “I have heard the opinion expressed that Inspector Nettings couldn’t find an omnibus in Oxford Street. But I don’t share that opinion. On the other hand I’m not convinced he could find the one he was looking for”.

Much as I love Barkworth, I’m never quite sure if the scene where he questions a cabman (and adopts a rough approximation of a lower-class accent) is deliberately meant to be unconvincing (to indicate that Hewitt didn’t really go in for that sort of thing) or whether Peter Barkworth just wasn’t very good at accents.

Whilst the solution to the mystery seems clear fairly early on, nothing’s quite as it seems and there’s a number of twists and turns in the story – which could quite easily sit alongside many of Conan-Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes tales.  With Holmes having apparently faced his Final Problem in 1893, Martin Hewitt proved to be a very acceptable substitute and his stories (prior to being collected in book form) were published in various magazines, including The Strand (which had been the home of Sherlock Holmes).  Sidney Paget’s illustrations (like they did for Holmes) also added a touch of class.


It does seem remarkable no series were spun out of The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes as many of the stories we’ve seen so far have demonstrated that there was definite mileage in taking the characters further.  So a series with Barkworth as Hewitt wasn’t to be, unfortunately, but he’ll return in one more tale – The Case of Laker, Absconded.

Next Episode – The Assyrian Rejuvenator

Public Eye – Nobody Kills Santa Claus

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Written by Roger Marshall
Directed by Kim Mills

Public Eye was a hugely popular series, starring Alfred Burke, which ran for seven series between 1965 and 1975.  Burke played Frank Marker, a down-at-heel enquiry agent who possessed a strong moral core as he moved his way through the sometimes seedy underbelly of whatever town or city he was currently working in.  Suffice it to say that if you have the slightest interest in British archive television, then Public Eye (like Callan) is a must watch.

And like Callan, it was originally made by ABC Television, and after ABC lost their franchise it was picked up by Thames.  But whilst all the Thames episodes (series four to seven) exist, sadly only five episodes survive from the first three series (out of a total of forty one transmitted).

The first existing episode is Nobody Kills Santa Claus, the second episode of the first series.  Paul Garston (Keith Baxter) is a successful young businessman.  His success has partly been achieved by riding roughshod over other people – so he’s certainly the sort of person that makes enemies.  When he confides to his managing director Eric Hart (Peter Barkworth) that he’s been receiving threatening phone calls, Hart recommends calling in Frank Marker.

The first ten minutes or so of Nobody Kills Santa Claus focus on Garston which allows us to see the type of person he is.  He’s brash, arrogant and quite happy to engage in underhand dealings if it’s to his advantage.  And although Eric Hart is the managing director, he plays a very subservient role to Garston –  for example, when Garston clicks his fingers, Hart hurries over to light his cigarette.

It’s therefore not surprising that it’s Hart, not Garston, who visits Marker’s office to engage his services.  But Marker doesn’t seem too keen to take on the job.

HART: He’d like to see you.
MARKER: He knows where I am.
HART: Ah yes, but he’d prefer you to go to him, if that’s not asking too much.
MARKER: I’ll try and fit him in.
HART: Oh thanks very much. You know, you make one big mistake, Marker.
HART: You like people to grovel. Why? Does it make you feel big?
MARKER: Depends who they are.

Garston wants Marker to act as his bodyguard for the next few weeks.  Marker agrees and he begins to consider the possible suspects.  Garston’s estranged wife Eva (Caroline Blakiston) must be one – although after Marker’s seen her it seems less likely.  She’s well provided for (at least in terms of money) and she declares that “nobody close to him will ever kill him.  Nobody kills Santa Claus”.

Ray Johnson (Robert Tunstall) looks to be a much more likely prospect.  His wife Anne (June Barry) is having an affair with Garston and he pays to him have beaten up.  Fortunately for Garston (and unfortunately for Marker) it’s Marker that receives the beating.  This provides a good closer to the second act.  Garston sees Marker being attacked in the street below, but he doesn’t raise the alarm or attempt to help – instead he goes back to Anne (whilst the sounds of the beating are reverberating in his head).  Marker’s made of stern stuff though.  Although there were two thugs and he took a bad beating, he was still able to scare one off and we see him pull the other one away for some, no doubt, intensive questioning.

Marker does eventually get to the bottom of the mystery of the threatening phone calls (it wasn’t Johnson after all) and Garston is grateful.  He offers Marker a permanent job, which he refuses.  It’ll become a familiar trait throughout the series, but Marker values his independence above everything else (which means there’s conflict in later series when he goes into partnership).  Marker tells Garston that he’s “getting old. Too stiff to lick boots”.  Garston responds by telling him that “you’re not Shane, you know, riding off into the sunset. You’re just another man in a dirty old mac”.

Even this early on, all of the basics of the series are firmly in place.  Marker doesn’t necessarily have to like his clients to work for them – it’s purely a business transaction and he won’t follow their orders blindly, which means he often comes into conflict with them.

Keith Baxter was perfectly cast as the arrogant businessman Paul Garston, whilst it’s always a pleasure to see Peter Barkworth – such a solid and dependable actor.  June Barry was also very good as Garston’s mistress, who candidly told Marker that she’d only be around for a short while and wasn’t intending to leave empty-handed.

Next Episode – The Morning Wasn’t So Hot

Out of the Unknown – To Lay A Ghost


Written by Michael J. Bird
Directed by Ken Hannam

After Eric and Diana Carver move into their dream house in the country, Diana (Lesley-Anne Down) feels very happy, claiming a special connection to the place.  This pleases Eric (Iain Gregory) who is well aware of his young wife’s traumatic past.  Several years earlier, when Diana was still a schoolgirl, she was raped – and the effect of this experience is still felt very strongly by her (for example, she resists any sexual advances from Eric).

But their idyllic peace is shattered when they realise that they’re not alone.  The house is also inhabited by a ghost, which seems to have a special interest in Diana.  On several occasions Eric comes close to death at the hands of Diana (under the control of the ghost).  Paranormal specialist Dr Walter Phillimore (Peter Barkworth) is intrigued by the case, but warns Eric that both he and his wife are in danger if they remain in the house …..

The first surviving episode from the fourth and final series, To Lay A Ghost was written by Michael J. Bird, later to pen acclaimed series such as The Lotus Eaters, Who Pays The Ferryman? and The Aphrodite InheritanceTo Lay A Ghost has attracted a certain amount of notoriety over the years, and it’s not difficult to see why.

The story opens with scenes of the schoolgirl Diana being raped (although nothing graphic is seen, it’s obvious what’s happening).  Later in the story, Phillimore tells Eric that he’s been too considerate with his wife (implying that he should force himself on her).  Another implication is that the ghost (a 19th Century murderer and rapist called Thomas Hobbs) has been summoned due to Diana’s repressed desires.

This seems to be confirmed when Diana says to Eric that if he wants her to do something then he shouldn’t ask her – he should make her.  From this, Eric concludes that Diana enjoyed the rape and has subconsciously wanted it to happen again ever since.  Eric is unable to treat her roughly, so he leaves.  Diana is left alone, waiting on the bed for the ghost to appear.  Her last words are identical to those she spoke just before she was raped – which is a clear indication of what will happen to her after the credits have rolled (and explains the double-meaning of the title).

Apart from the controversial nature of the story, it’s a fairly static and underwhelming production.  The seventeen year old Lesley-Anne Down looks lovely (but is rather wooden) whilst Iain Gregory also gives a somewhat indifferent performance.  Things do pick up when Peter Barkworth appears, as he adds a touch of class to proceedings.

Whilst the ending is memorable (if somewhat questionable) the rest of the story is less engaging.  To Lay A Ghost isn’t totally without merit, but it’s certainly something that it’s difficult to imagine being broadcast on mainstream television today.

Next Up – This Body Is Mine