Garden of Death

The argument that sets this one off is pure Midsomer: an aristocratic family decides to turn a memorial garden into a commercial tea shop, and the villagers are furious. You can see both sides, which is the uncomfortable part. A garden planted in memory of the dead feels like sacred ground; a tea shop feels like someone putting a price on it. The Deverells make the decision with the arrogance the family name practically guarantees, and the whole village rises against them. The dispute is conducted in the most civilised tones imaginable, all letters and committee meetings, which makes the bloodshed that follows feel worse.

And then the murders start, and it turns out the past was already stacked up behind the hedges. Murders old and new come back into view, and Barnaby has to sort out which crimes are fresh and which ones people have been sitting on for years. The investigation has to work across two timelines, which means twice as many alibis to test and twice as many grudges to weigh. The polite facade of village life cracks, as it always does, and underneath are the old secrets everyone swore were settled. They were never settled at all.

Christopher Russell and Caroline Graham wrote the episode, and Peter Smith directed. The cast is a pleasure: Sarah Alexander as Fliss Inkpen-Thomas, Anthony Bate as Augustus Deverell, Simon Chandler as Richard Deverell, Anna Calder-Marshall as Susan Millard, Tom Chadbon as Charles King, Raymond Bowers as Desmond Cox, and Dean Batchelor as Michael, with John Nettles, Daniel Casey and Jane Wymark holding the middle as Barnaby, Troy and Joyce.

There is something very English about the whole setup. Graveyards and tea are both institutions here, and the show knows exactly which one wins when they collide. The Deverells found out the hard way.