Death and Dreams

Suicide is supposed to be straightforward, and the one in "Death and Dreams" starts out that way. Then Barnaby takes a longer look at the dead man and decides he may have had help pulling the trigger. What looked like an open-and-shut tragedy turns out to be an elaborate construction, and the real case is working out who built it, and why.

The Moore family fills the frame: Dr Jane Moore, her daughter Hannah, Guy and Ettie, with Sarah Wroath and Gordon Leesmith hovering at the edges of their world. Barnaby moves through their lives the way he always does, politely, methodically, letting people talk themselves into corners. Every apparent conclusion slips away just as he reaches for it, and the episode keeps its misdirection honest. Troy tags along and takes notes, and Joyce and Cully appear just often enough to remind you that Barnaby has a life beyond the mortuary.

It is the kind of episode where the supporting cast earns its keep. Isla Blair makes a credible Dr Jane Moore, and Perdita Weeks, barely out of her teens at the time, already has the screen presence that would carry her through the next two decades of television. Jan Ravens, best known for impersonating politicians on Dead Ringers, turns up as Sarah Wroath, which is a reminder that Midsomer happily borrows its character actors from everywhere. The script lets the mystery breathe, and the village setting does its usual quiet work of hiding things in plain sight.

Peter Hammond and Caroline Graham wrote it, Peter Smith directed. And the whole thing proceeds with the quiet confidence of a show that knows exactly what its viewers want.

The title promises dreams, and the episode delivers a decent one. Not the best of the series, but a satisfying hour of watching Barnaby pull a tangled story apart thread by thread. The village goes back to normal. Someone has to keep it that way.