Blood Will Out

The murder of a village blow-hard who had few supporters among his neighbours happens while a gathering of travellers is in the area, which gives the police plenty of suspects and the village plenty of excuses. The victim's opinions had little traction, as they say, and the case starts with no shortage of people who are sorry he is dead but not surprised. A man with no friends is a man with a queue of suspects.

The episode takes its time with the rhythms of village life before the violence. Fleur motors through on an old moped, the sound of it cutting through the valley, and waves to the mild-mannered shopkeeper Peter Fairfax as he arranges his window display. Tilly Dinsdale cycles past in her green wellies and waxed jacket, too much in a hurry to stop, much to Peter's relief. All of it is watched, in the way village life always is, and any of it could be evidence. It is the kind of scene the show lingers on because it knows how quickly it will sour. Then Barnaby and Troy arrive, and the quiet routines stop being charming.

Douglas Watkinson and Caroline Graham wrote it, Moira Armstrong directed. John Nettles and Daniel Casey are Barnaby and Troy, with Jane Wymark's Joyce and Laura Howard's Cully, and Barry Jackson's Dr Bullard on the medical side. The suspects include Kevin McNally's Orville Tudway, John Duttine's Will Saxby, Elizabeth Garvie's Muriel, Paul Jesson's Hector Bridges and Tricia George's Jenny Bridges.

The trick here is the one the show does better than anyone: putting genuine dread inside deeply comfortable settings, so that the most shocking acts arrive wrapped in the politest village manners. It works again. The travellers give the police plenty to look at, and when the truth comes out, it is closer to home than the travellers ever were. And that, in the end, is the point.