Son of Lynley: A (proposed) Masterpiece MYSTERY! Original Series
Pilot Episode: "Sins of the Father"
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Thomas Lynley or Barbara Havers, much as I might wish to, and I mean no disrespect to Elizabeth George, nor infringement of copyright, in creating and posting this project. I am neither a professional screenwriter nor a resident of the United Kingdom just yet (though I did enjoy the privilege of living there for several months) nor formally acquainted with police procedure in the United Kingdom or otherwise, so kindly overlook any shortcomings in those departments.
INT. GABLES GUEST HOUSE. ADELE'S ROOM – EVENING.
PRESENT DAY.
ADELE, having long ago abandoned her hairstyle, is staring down at a picture in her hand: a slightly worn-about-the-edges Polaroid photo of YOUNG LYNLEY with an arm around YOUNG ADELE, somewhere in The Zodiac, both genuinely smiling. The color in ADELE's cheeks is high and there is a brightness of unshed tears in her eyes; her breathing is shallow and irregular – a clear indicator of her resistance against breaking down in tears.
Her mobile, resting just beside her hand, rings suddenly. She looks at it for a long moment while she attempts to slow her breathing, then she gingerly picks it up and answers.
ADELE
Hello?
LYNLEY, O.S.
Adele? This is Thomas Lynley.
ADELE closes her eyes against a sudden influx of emotion.
ADELE
(with supreme calmness)
Hello, Thomas.
CUT to INT. LYNLEY'S CAR – EVENING.
LYNLEY is driving down a lamp-lit street. The vehicle's interior is dark, but even in the reflected headlights of other vehicles it is clear that he's spruced up for the occasion; his hair is artfully tousled and, in moments of shadow, he looks a great deal like YOUNG LYNLEY.
LYNLEY
(cheerfully)
As promised – I'm calling for the address where you're staying tonight.
CUT to INT. GABLES GUEST HOUSE – ADELE'S ROOM – EVENING.
ADELE
(infinitely more collected than a moment ago)
Right, of course. I'm at Gables Guest House – a bit out of the way, I'm afraid, owing to budget restrictions –
LYNLEY, O.S.
(pleasantly)
Not at all. Gables, you say?
ADELE
Address is 6 Cumnor Hill –
She picks up a sheet of handwritten directions and endeavors to translate.
ADELE
You take…erm…Botley Road – that's the A420 – west, crossing the A34. Botley turns into West Way, then into Cumnor Hill, so…it should be a fairly straight shot.
(self-deprecating chuckle)
Katie drove me over just a bit ago, so I apologize if I've twisted things about somewhat.
CUT to INT. LYNLEY'S CAR – EVENING.
LYNLEY
(smiling)
It sounds rather straightforward to me.
CUT to INT. GABLES GUEST HOUSE. ADELE'S BEDROOM – EVENING.
LYNLEY, O.S.
I'll see you shortly.
ADELE
All right.
She closes her phone and sets it back on the dresser, pausing with her face bowed slightly and her eyes closed – clearly, she was not as collected as she pretended. After a moment or two she goes to the en suite bath and splashes her face at the small sink, then dabs at her cheeks with a towel.
There is a soft knock at the door. ADELE looks up in surprise.
THOMAS, O.S.
(slightly muffled by the wood)
Just me, Mum.
ADELE
(in a slight panic)
I'll be there in a tic.
She crosses back to the dresser and quickly slips the photo of YOUNG LYNLEY and YOUNG ADELE into her handbag, itself resting on the dresser, just beneath the mirror, then she crosses to unlock the door. THOMAS CRAWFORD comes in, carton of chips in hand, and gives the room a swift glance-over.
THOMAS
(playfully)
Well, Miss Crawford; nice place you've got h…
He trails off in puzzlement at the sight of his mother in her very elegant (and clearly costly) apparel.
THOMAS
Erm…you're looking rather lovely.
ADELE breathes a marked sigh of relief, oblivious in that moment to his confusion.
ADELE
You think so?
She rummages through her handbag for a scissors to cut the tags off her dress.
ADELE, CONT.
Cost a week's rent – I wasn't sure –
THOMAS
(realizing)
That's the dress you bought from Katie this afternoon?
She tosses the tags in the bin and looks up at him with a tremulous smile, toying nervously with the fabric of the skirt.
ADELE
Yeah – do you think it'll do?
THOMAS
(utterly lost)
Um…what's the occasion?
ADELE
(her smile broadens – more happy than anxious now)
Inspector Lynley asked me to dinner tonight.
THOMAS
(with no small surprise)
Inspector Lynley?
(frowns)
You do know he's married, Mum?
There is a sudden flash of pain in her eyes, quickly veiled by a cheeky smile.
ADELE
For heaven's sake, Tommy; it's not a date, just dinner. We knew each other ages ago; he used to come into your granddad's pub.
THOMAS
So I heard.
ADELE
(with real concern)
What, he told you?
THOMAS
Sergeant Havers was talking with him about it. I…um…asked if he knew my dad.
ADELE turns white, though THOMAS doesn't notice, looking pointedly elsewhere as he is for his own transgression in seeking answers about his past from others.
ADELE
(with forced calmness)
And…did he?
THOMAS
(with the air of one who knows his search is futile)
'Course not. But he said I'd be a credit to whoever it was.
He settles on the bed and begins eating chips, holding the carton out now and again for ADELE to take a few.
THOMAS
(noncommittal)
Anyway – nice of him to invite you out.
ADELE
He's a good man, Tommy.
THOMAS
(still unconvinced)
Yeah, I know…
ADELE
(perfectly aware of the thread of unease in his voice, she responds accordingly)
I'll be perfectly fine, sweetheart. Shall I ring you when I get in tonight?
THOMAS
Nah, have your fun. I'm just – a little worried, after what happened to Davey.
ADELE
(reassuring smile)
Well, I couldn't be in better hands. How'd it go today, by the way?
(hopefully)
Any breakthroughs?
THOMAS sighs and sets aside the chip carton.
THOMAS
(directly, albeit a bit sadly)
You really want to know?
ADELE
(similarly)
Yeah…
(lightly)
Better now than over dinner with the Inspector, right?
THOMAS drags a hand over his face in what could be pain, frustration, or both.
THOMAS
We're holding Steven Lundy on suspicion overnight.
ADELE
(echoes in stunned disbelief)
Steven Lundy? He would never –
THOMAS
(wearily)
I like him too, Mum, but the evidence is pretty damning.
ADELE
(going gray)
What sort of evidence?
His lips twist bitterly at the admission.
THOMAS
Davey's blood on his coveralls, dumped in a bin down the road from the Galleria.
ADELE
Oh my God…
She brings a hand to her mouth, her breathing rapid and panicked; THOMAS promptly intervenes and stands to pull her into his arms.
THOMAS
Come 'ere.
He holds her for several long moments.
THOMAS, CONT.
(fervently)
I've never in my life been so glad for that deadbolt on your door.
She nods against him with a muffled affirmation, her breath still coming quickly and shallow, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.
THOMAS, CONT.
I'm heading back to the station to see if I can dig up some other leads, but…most likely, they're gonna charge him tomorrow.
She draws back to look up at him.
ADELE
(still shaken, though the sadness at LUNDY's betrayal is creeping into her voice)
Steven Lundy…Tommy, he was in the gallery yesterday afternoon, helping Davey and Alaina with the decorations…
THOMAS
I know, Mum.
He leans in to kiss her forehead.
THOMAS
And I hope to God there's some other explanation behind the bl –
(quickly euphemizes what he was going to say)
the evidence – but in the meantime, I'm beyond glad that we've got him in custody.
ADELE
(nods shakily)
Me too, love.
She blinks, and a lone tear flickers onto her cheek.
THOMAS
(gently)
Here now, what's this?
He daubs away the tear with a fingertip.
THOMAS, CONT.
(lightly)
Can't go spoiling your make-up; you've got dinner with an earl tonight.
ADELE
(quickly)
Tommy, about that – about Inspector Lynley…
For a split-second it seems she's about to tell him everything – then he unwittingly breaks in with a reassurance:
THOMAS
You don't have to explain anything, Mum.
(teasing)
Since when has your behavior ever not been above reproach? Anyway, I like DI Lynley.
ADELE
(smiling, in spite of herself)
Really?
THOMAS
(grins back)
Really. And I'd hate to disappoint him by making you late for dinner, so: I think this is my cue to eat the rest of the chips while you finish getting ready.
ADELE
(with a long-suffering air)
I am so getting the short end of this bargain.
THOMAS
(with mock-affrontery)
Oh, please: dinner in some posh brasserie with a peer? I'm just trying not to spoil your appetite.
She snatches a pillow off the bed and heartily thwacks him with it, both of them laughing.
INT. GABLES GUEST HOUSE. FOYER – EVENING.
LYNLEY walks in and takes off his coat, looking searingly attractive and about ten years younger than he did at the station. His hair is tousled and boyish and he's wearing a patterned black oxford, open at the neck, with corresponding black trousers. In this more youthful apparel he looks not unlike YOUNG LYNLEY from the Zodiac flashback – confident and cripplingly gorgeous. He rings at the desk and the RECEPTIONIST emerges from a doorway behind the counter.
RECEPTIONIST
What can I do for you, sir?
LYNLEY
I'm here to pick up Adele Crawford. She'll be expecting me – ah, Thomas is the name.
He catches himself just short of giving his full name, belatedly recalling the conventions.
RECEPTIONIST
(amused)
Another Thomas? She just had one twenty minutes ago, chips in hand.
LYNLEY
(smiles)
Yes, that would be her son.
RECEPTIONIST
(smiling in return)
I'll tell her you've arrived, sir.
LYNLEY
I'd be much obliged.
The RECEPTIONIST disappears up the stairs. LYNLEY begins turning away from the desk when he spies and picks up a brochure with the image of a painting and the text:
Adele Elizabeth Crawford
Modern Pre-Raphaelite: An Art Exhibition
30 November – 6 January
Gilchrist's Galleria
With a small smile and frank curiosity, he settles in a chair and opens the brochure and –
CUT to INT. THE TANGLED HARE. TAPROOM – EVENING.
CHRISTMAS 1984 (FLASHBACK)
YOUNG LYNLEY, looking handsome as ever and quite worldly-wise after only months out of university, walks in, untying his scarf, and addresses EMILY, the waitress.
YOUNG LYNLEY
Excuse me; I'm looking for Adele Crawford. Can you tell me – ?
She promptly drags him into a corner by his coat.
EMILY
(in a low voice)
You don't want to come 'round askin' about her, sir – erm, my lord. She and her dad had a blazing row a couple nights back; ended with her dragging out her suitcase and leaving, not ten minutes after she'd come home.
YOUNG LYNLEY
(puzzled)
Adele fought with her dad? Over what?
EMILY
A lad – so far as I've heard. I wasn't here but…
(hesitates)
Listen, we were sort of friends, and I know some of her mates from uni. I could probably find out her address if you want.
YOUNG LYNLEY
(considers)
I…no. No need. Thank you.
He turns and leaves the pub.
(END FLASHBACK)
CUT to INT. GABLES GUEST HOUSE. FOYER – EVENING.
PRESENT DAY.
LYNLEY is still sitting in the armchair, lost in that memory, as ADELE and THOMAS approach. ADELE's hair is loosely pinned up in an intricate cluster of curls, though a few strategic curls have been left to fall free at her temples and the nape of her neck. This hairstyle, coupled with the exquisite dress, renders her an absolute goddess.
THOMAS
(lightly)
Still mulling over the case, sir?
LYNLEY looks up at them in surprise.
THOMAS, CONT.
As I recall, you've the night off for dinner with a certain lady.
ADELE gives LYNLEY a shy, irrepressible smile.
ADELE
Hello, Thomas.
LYNLEY takes in her appearance in a slow, lingering gaze and draws a shallow breath.
LYNLEY
(unevenly)
And I thought you were lovely in a tracksuit.
THOMAS shoots his mother a glance at this but ADELE is too caught up in LYNLEY's admiration to notice.
LYNLEY, CONT.
Forgive me – shall we go?
ADELE
Yes, thank you. Tom –
She kisses her son quickly on the cheek.
ADELE, CONT.
Go home, get some sleep.
(mouths the words)
I'll be fine!
INT. POLICE STATION – EVENING.
THOMAS CRAWFORD walks in to see HAVERS sitting at MCALLISTER's desk, purposefully making notations in the omnipresent notebook. Her hair is mussed (from running frustrated hands through it) and her chin rests on her free hand.
THOMAS
Sergeant? What're you still doing here?
HAVERS
Hey, just because my boss takes the night off doesn't mean I get to. What's your excuse?
THOMAS
Same as yours, I imagine.
HAVERS
(abrupt realization)
Oh right.
THOMAS
Look, the last time my mum went out for the evening with someone other than me was probably ten years ago.
HAVERS
What about her dinner with Davey?
THOMAS
(smugly)
She met me afterwards – doesn't count.
HAVERS
(grins)
All right, then.
THOMAS
Can I persuade you to join me for dinner, Sergeant?
HAVERS
Only if it's takeaway!
At his crestfallen look, she gestures pointedly at the omnipresent notebook and the papers surrounding.
HAVERS, CONT.
Lynley's gonna expect me to have this whole case cut and dried by morning.
THOMAS
(good-naturedly persisting)
Ah, come on. You need a bit of a break.
(impishly)
You can even bring your notebook if you like. I promise not to be a third wheel.
HAVERS stands up and pointedly smacks him upside the head with the object in question.
HAVERS
I'll have you know, cartin' one of these is an integral part of being a Detective Sergeant. They even have a special ceremony for handing 'em out.
THOMAS
(without skipping a beat)
So is that a yes to dinner?
HAVERS groans theatrically.
THOMAS, CONT.
C'mon, Sergeant. You know you stand a much better chance of cracking the case by morning if I'm along to help.
He grins.
HAVERS
(sighs, bending before the logic of this argument)
Right. I'll get my coat.
(warningly)
No chips this time?
THOMAS
(defensively)
Chips are a staple food group, Sergeant – and anyway, I had chips for tea.
He gives another - were it possible, cheekier - grin.
INT. THE WILLIAM MORRIS PUB. TAPROOM – EVENING.
HAVERS and THOMAS are sitting companionably in the local Wetherspoon's finishing some combination of entrees for £7.19 (bangers & mash and cottage pie, mayhap – chips are indeed conspicuously absent). In and amongst bites, HAVERS steals glances down at the omnipresent notebook.
THOMAS
So…how'd it go with Lundy?
HAVERS
(shoots him a look)
You don't believe he's capable any more than I do.
THOMAS
I don't know; considering the chain of evidence…
(at her sustained look he capitulates)
Okay, no, I don't – so we need other options. Tell me about this key theory.
HAVERS
(taking a sip from her pint)
Well, it would've made for an easy route for the killer – no breaking and entering involved – and seeing as we've found no signs of a forced entry…
She glances briefly down at the omnipresent notebook and flips through a few pages.
HAVERS
Finnegan was issued keys to the gallery's front and back doors that he turned in when he took his exhibit over to Modern Art. Supposedly, those – plus the one to the flat – are the keys Gilchrist gave your mum. Not to mention, Finnegan's got an alibi for the time of the murder.
She winces and looks intently down at the page.
THOMAS
(conceding the point)
You can say it, Sergeant. I know Mum's alibi's not the greatest.
HAVERS
(looking up at him; defensively)
Well, whose is, at two o'clock in the morning? I mean, even Finnegan could've snuck out of the flat for an hour while Katie was asleep, and no one the wiser. Anyway, I don't buy it. Your mum's a respectable artist, and she had too much riding on the show to blow it away on Gilchrist's murder, for publicity or otherwise.
THOMAS
(genuinely; clearly, suspicion of his mother is a fear he's harbored from the beginning)
Thank you, Sergeant.
HAVERS
(still in her tirade)
Don't thank me; I'm doing my job. I don't care if the palette knife in Davey Gilchrist's heart has her prints all over it; Adele is not a viable suspect in this case.
THOMAS
(looking ready to cry with relief)
Can I…just…kiss you right now?
HAVERS
(bantering back)
You help me find who really killed Davey Gilchrist and I'll snog you myself.
THOMAS
(cracking a grin)
Fair enough. Back to the keys: our suspect in custody –
HAVERS
Steven Lundy, the janitor and our prime suspect, has a key to both entrances to the gallery. He's also got Gilchrist's blood all over the front of his coveralls, but he denies any involvement.
THOMAS
His alibi?
HAVERS
Thin at best. According to a couple of uni kids in the house next door, Lundy came home about half-eleven, gave 'em a shout to keep the music down, and went into his house. No one remembers seeing him after, but judging from McAllister's account, the alcohol was flowing rather freely last night. That leaves Gilchrist with a key, but he didn't stab himself six times with a palette knife –
THOMAS
(frowning)
What if someone made a copy of the key?
HAVERS
Or borrowed it? Lundy suggested that as well. Who would have been in close contact with Finnegan, Lundy, Gilchrist or Adele who could have – ?
THOMAS
(with an expression of mild embarrassment at having to mention this)
Sergeant, you do realize…?
HAVERS
(obviously)
Yeah, I know you have a key – DI Lynley mentioned it this afternoon. It's recorded in Gilchrist's ledger –
(thoughtfully)
- though, from what I understand, he was a bit stingy about handin' 'em out. You want to elaborate?
THOMAS
(shrugs)
When Mum first heard told me about the flat, I had – misgivings. The Galleria has standard locks on the front and rear doors, but no alarm system, no CCTV. Not that it's a high crime area or anything, but –
HAVERS
(agreeing)
Yeah, that kind of disregard for security is enough to discomfit anyone.
THOMAS
We negotiated Davey into installing a deadbolt on the flat before Mum moved in, but he was reluctant to take further measures straightaway – you probably saw from his books that his finances were a little thin at the moment – so I requested my own keys to the flat. Davey wasn't thrilled – I don't think he liked the idea of Mum in any other man's company – but I think he saw the logic. I was practically a second tenant, being over there so much, and considering the lack of security on the building, I think he liked having a copper around.
HAVERS
So you have keys to the flat and the gallery?
THOMAS
Yeah – well, the flat and the rear door to the gallery, the one closest to the flat. Here.
He pauses to retrieve the keys from his trouser pocket, only to exclaim a moment later:
THOMAS, CONT.
(with genuine concern)
Bloody hell.
HAVERS
What is it?
THOMAS
(in a tone of barely controlled panic)
My keys are gone.
(frantically, before HAVERS can say anything, skeptical or otherwise)
Yeah, I can already hear you thinking: "That's convenient." I had them last night when I saw Mum back in; I locked her flat when I left…
He falls silent for a tense moment, during which HAVERS endeavors to calm him.
HAVERS
Take a breath, Constable. They're probably in the car –
THOMAS
(interrupting her, suddenly professional and sounding not unlike LYNLEY)
Take me back to the station, would you, Sergeant? I want to be sure I didn't leave 'em there, and if I didn't…Well, then I think you'll be needing to document our subsequent conversation.
HAVERS
Constable, you have an alibi for the time of the murder.
THOMAS
(concern begins to crack through his façade of calm)
I know. I didn't kill Davey, Sergeant.
HAVERS
I know.
There is no irony in her expression or her voice; she is as convicted of his innocence as she is of ADELE's.
THOMAS
(unevenly)
But if my – carelessness – somehow enabled someone else to do it, well, that makes me an accessory at the very least, right?
HAVERS sets a hand on his on the table.
HAVERS
The little I know of you, Constable, there's no way in hell you'd ever do anything, consciously or otherwise, that might endanger your mum.
THOMAS
(with a thin smile)
I hope you're right.
He gets up and pulls on his coat, and she follows suit.