Every season, the Drama After Dark team gathers ‘round the (still virtual) conference room table to watch the latest and greatest in all things drama. With fall finally fast approaching, I’m excited to cover MASTERPIECE’s newest offering: Guilt. Do I know very much about the plot yet? No. But it has Mark Bonnar and his annoyingly hot face, so let’s just say I’m looking forward to it. Check in each week for a recap following the show on Sunday evenings!
Now where were we? Last time, we found out that L’Americain might just not be who she said she is after all (and is, at minimum, in cahoots with Rear Window), that Cheekbones is in deep with a loan shark, that there really are limits to how much of her husband’s crap Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones is willing to put up with, and that Softie both lives up to his name AND might be more savvy than any of us thought.
For this episode, we’re starting off with someone new: a mysterious older chap who exits a fancy car and is immediately handed what appears to be a pretty damn nice bottle of dark liquor; the kind you bring when you’re eager to start a conversation with the moneyed sort of boozehound on the right foot. This particular moneyed boozehound is also possibly quite powerful, if the incredibly fancy conference room where they’re meeting is any indication. If my accent recognition game is up to snuff, he’s some flavor of Eastern European, but regardless: he’s in the “import” business.
Moneyed Boozehound: My guys want to double the amount of money laundering we’re doing with you.
Mister Maytag: No prob, bob.
Moneyed Boozehound: Seriously? Cool. Anyway, how do you manage all the money laundering?
Mister Maytag: LOL, no way in hell I’m answering THAT.
Curiouser and curiouser, reader! I don’t know how, but I have a bad feeling Cheekbones is involved somehow. But we won’t find out just yet, because first, we’re visiting with Rear Window who, now that she’s got her money and settled the score, is lovingly posting a picture of her and Walter on her wall. It’s pretty sweet, and makes me realize, even before it’s confirmed in the subsequent flashback, that Rear Window and Walter were an item. But back to that flashback:
Walter’s Solicitor: So, Walter left you everything.
Rear Window: I don’t care about the stuff!
Walter’s Solicitor: Of course not. Oh, actually: everything but the records! Those are going to his niece.
Rear Window: Wait, that wasn’t in the will?
Walter’s Solicitor: It was in an extra bit he added on the last time we talked. Can’t settle the estate until we speak with her.
Rear Window: Nooo, we have to settle the estate asap!
Walter’s Solicitor: Well, it’s the law, sorry bud. She lived abroad right? Australia, maybe?
Rear Window, thinking on her feet: America. I met her… and I can tell her you wanted to speak to her.
OHO. So perhaps Rear Window is even LESS innocent in all of this than we thought! And speaking of less innocent than we thought, back at Walter’s house, Softie confronts L’Americain about that matchbook he found from her pub last time.
Softie: Explain!
L’Americain: Look, I came over a few months ago: I wanted to see Walter, but also, I had to get out of the US. Anyway, Walter seemed fine, and was in a nice relationship with the gal across the road anyway, so I left to do some travelling, went broke, took a job in a bar (which is illegal with my visa), and then when he died and I had to talk to the lawyer, it seemed easier to just tell everyone I just got here.
Softie, a bit rich given how he knows her in the first place: You should have told me!
L’Americain: I know, and I’m sorry: I don’t want to lie anymore.
Softie: Well, it’s ok! Sometimes good people lie! But as long as everyone talks it out it’s fine right? And this doesn’t change me wanting you to stay!
L’Americain: Softie… I can’t really stay for that long? We’re selling this house, for starters.
Softie: Well come live with me!
L’Americain: Sure, and will I just work illegally?
Softie: Nah, my shop does pretty well. At least I think it does? Cheekbones’ accountant does all the bookkeeping.
L’Americain: Uh… wtf? That’s not great, dude. Let’s talk later, I have to pack up Walter’s stuff.
Softie: Ok? See you later I guess?
L’Americain: Yeah. Sorry to have lied.
Softie: No worries, this kind of stuff balances out in the end.
LOL, Softie, not sure we can say that “oops, I killed a guy with my brother’s car and only started dating you as part of the coverup” and “I overstayed my visa” are on equal footing, but whatever gets you through the day. Meanwhile, Remington Steele Reserve is back at it again at Neighbor’s house, checking through the security camera footage. On a mission, he ignores Neighbor’s attempt to make them sandwiches, and notices something interesting on the footage: Walter, slowly walking past the camera in the dark. Peering out the window, lost in thought, he spots Softie walking home, and pulls over to offer him a lift.
Remington Steele Reserve: You don’t drive?
Softie: No! I’m a planeteer! I kinda like the dignity of trams, myself.
Remington Steele Reserve, no time for THAT conversation: So, Cheekbones drives when you two go out together?
Softie: I mean, we don’t really go out together? Recently we have, but only because… We’re brothers.
Remington Steele Reserve, inside: Gotcha, fool.
Remington Steele Reserve, out loud: Great, well, see ya around!
See ya around indeed. Back at the record shop, the accountant is back again with more papers to sign, and Softie, maybe for the first time, has some questions. Has he been doing more of these lately? And why does he only get a few pages?
Softie: Look, I want to see the rest of the stuff. I want to see where we are, financially, and be able to plan stuff.
Accountant: Uh… why don’t you just sign these now though?
Softie: Well, because it’s my shop. I need to see the rest.
And with THAT I suddenly have a sneaking suspicion about that money laundering convo from the top of the episode! Let’s find out, shall we: at his office, Cheekbones gets a phone call. A phone call from a mystery caller of whom he’s clearly pretty scared. Before we can find out why, we go to Remington Steele Reserve, who’s scribbling away at a map in his car with the kind of dogged determination that one only gets when it’s one’s last chance at redemption. Good old shoe leather detective work just might pay off, as frustrating as it clearly is, because Remington Steele Reserve is painstakingly visiting garages until he, finally, tracks down the one that did the body work on Cheekbones’ car.
Whilst that’s happening, Cheekbones gives his brother a ring.
Cheekbones: Hey, why is my accountant calling and saying you won’t sign stuff?
Softie: Well, I’ve decided to be responsible for my business!
Cheekbones: I mean, of course you could, but why do you want to?
Softie: I want to be ambitious now! I want to think about the future, and what the shop could accomplish!
Cheekbones: Ohhhkay. Let me do some digging.
While Cheekbones tries to figure out how to keep Softie in the dark, Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones comes clean. Well, sort of — she invites L’Americain out for lunch so she can dish.
L’Americain: Oh damn. So…. are you having fun?
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: I mean, who cares about that?
L’Americain: Well, you probably should?
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: Ugh, look: I just need someone to tell me I’m being crazy. Sorry to ask you to be that person, but… here we are.
L’Americain: What are you going to do?
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: Well, not sure. I know I have a nice life, but it just sort of… happened? I’m not sure it’s what I want. You seem to be, ya know, an autonomous adult who hasn’t just played it safe.
L’Americain: You could say that. I’ve done some truly reckless and messed up things, and sometimes I really regret that.
The grass is always greener, I guess. Anyway, back at ye olde seedy loan shark’s office, Cheekbones explains that Softie isn’t going to be a good patsy for them any longer.
Cheekbones: We’ve made a lot of cash, it’s been fun, but we need to get my brother out of the picture. I can still do what we need, but not with him.
Sleazy Loan Shark: Bad news, pal: I’m just here to make all of this look legit. You do not want to see my dark side, bud. So we really should work together to fix this.
Cheekbones: Not sure if I can.
Sleazy Loan Shark: Well, I sure hope you do. Toodles!
Duly threatened, Cheekbones takes himself straight to the record shop to try and sort Softie out. Unfortunately for him, Softie has taken L’Americain’s unintentional advice to heart, and is in the middle of reorganizing his store to hopefully pull in more customers. He’s even thinking about moving the shop to somewhere with better foot traffic.
Cheekbones: NO. Look, the accountant is going to make you a big summary. It’ll take a couple of weeks; just keep on keeping on in the meantime.
Softie: No thanks. I want the whole thing!
Cheekbones, changing tact: Look: there are a couple of funky tax things hidden in there that help both of us out; it’s better if you don’t know all the details, but just trust me, ok?
Softie: LOL, shan’t. No, I want to know what you’ve gotten me into!
Cheekbones: I’ve kept you in business! Just do as I say!
Softie: Get me my stuff, and then leave me alone.
Cheekbones: Great. Fine. I’ll let you fail.
Softie: Great, whatever. Now get out of my shop.
And speaking of trouble (but the fun kind), across town, Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones is once again visiting Spin Class Friend (and not just for a cup of tea). Unfortunately, despite clearly having a really great time carrying on her affair, back at home, Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones has second thoughts. She calls, leaves a breakup VOICEMAIL, and then deletes Spin Class Friend’s number. At least Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones admits to being a coward on the message, but still, poorly done (even for an affair).
While she allows herself to wallow in guilt (hey, that’s the name of the show!) Cheekbones, who doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word, stops in at the bar to meet with Remington Steele Reserve.
Cheekbones: Ok, so, why am I here? You’re not fun when you’re mysterious.
Remington Steele Reserve: Well, I’m sure it was an accident… when you killed Walter.
Me:
Cheekbones, laughing it off: LOL, that really is hilarious. Can you imagine?
Remington Steele Reserve: You and Softie! Walter was in the road, you hit him, and then you brought him home.
Cheekbones: Look, your brain is clearly pickled with booze, but Walter died of cancer, man.
Remington Steele Reserve: Dude, I found the garage that took the dents out of your car. You even used your credit card! Holy paper trail, batman! And don’t even deny it again, because this is the most believable thing I could ever find out about you.
Cheekbones, getting scary: So, what do you want?
Remington Steele Reserve: I want my family, and to do that, I need my career. So either I take you down, or you make me a full partner.
Cheekbones, no self-preservation skills: WHAT? That’s preposterous.
Remington Steele Reserve: Look, I can be a buffer between you and the seedy element. I know exactly who you’re involved with, and frankly I’m not 100% sure you actually know who those guys are. Anyway, think about it. Be safe!
And with that, he saunters off with an amount of swagger that might honestly be illegal in some parts of the world. Anyway, I’m now a bit worried that something might happen to Remington Steele Reserve, who I’ve quite grown to like, so I hope he takes his own advice and stays safe. Before I can find out, though, we head back to Walter’s house, where Softie is helping L’Americain pack, and telling her about his newest bright idea of getting a website for the shop.
Softie: Yeah, I mean I always thought it was cooler to stay under the radar, but obviously that wasn’t a classically great business strategy. So if I move to a better location, and have a site, I think I might be able to even take on more workers!
L’Americain: Ok, well, we’ll see.
Before she can rebuff him completely, however, the plot thickens even further. At this rate, we’ll be able to stand up a spoon in the damn thing soon. Anyway, Softie’s found a note in the clutter. It’s from someone named Jessie, and while L’Americain reads it, her face tells us that this isn’t just some ordinary letter.
Cheekbones’ day, as foretold by Remington Steele Reserve, is only getting worse. On his drive home, a creepy big car blocks the road ahead, and a scary baddie jumps out, hops in with Cheekbones, and tell him to follow the other car: Sleazy Loan Shark’s orders. Cheekbones obviously doesn’t want to do that, but what choice does he have, really? Lucky for him, Remington Steele Reserve is still on the case, and seeing this go down, follows at a safe distance.
Back at Walter’s, L’Americain takes another look at some paperwork. Specifically, Walter’s prescriptions, so she can compare them to the pill bottles. I’m not sure exactly what she finds, but whatever it is prompts her to make a call, and insist that the person on the other end of the line get over there ASAP.
Meanwhile, Cheekbones and the baddie boys all converge on a horrifying abandoned marina, which I must say is a great location to threaten someone. Scary Baddie goes back to the other vehicle, and who should slip into Cheekbones’ back seat but Mister Maytag, who is, apparently, a very big deal.
Mister Maytag: You work for me, btw.
Cheekbones: Oh. I didn’t know.
Mister Maytag: That’s why I’m so successful. People like you don’t know about my involvement. Here’s the deal: your brother’s shop is the address for 43 different companies. He doesn’t know, and I need that situation to continue, so that we can keep pushing money through there, because, fun fact, that money is about to double. This isn’t a cute time for a change.
Cheekbones: Uh… so I guess let’s figure out what we can do?
Mister Maytag: Look. The reason you recognize me is that for a long time, I, and the people I employ, have done a lot of violent crime. Obviously now I’m just a businessman, but, ya know, that doesn’t change the past. You have until the end of the day to get your brother in line.
Cheekbones: Leave him alone. Please.
Mister Maytag: Well that’s in your court, isn’t it?
While this frankly terrifying conversation is happening, something awful is also going on behind them: Scary Baddie has spotted Remington Steele Reserve lurking, and despite the detective’s insistence that he’s just there to look for a dog, Scary Baddie proceeds to beat him up so aggressively that I’m not entirely sure Remington Steele Reserve will survive the encounter. Before we can find out, it’s back to L’Americain, who’s having a good cry and remembering back to the evening she met Rear Window in the Highland bar, and a conversation between the two women and the publican after closing.
Rear Window: I’ve been taking care of Walter for a while. We had a plan: he just had his house, but he loved it. I paid for all of his treatments, and when he died, he left the house to me; once they sell it, I get repaid from the proceeds, and then we donate the rest to charity. But here’s the catch: he left his record collection to a niece in America. She’s his only family, and she was never around, but the damn solicitor lost her contact info. I’m in debt, and I can’t get paid until they find her, which might take months. So look, we had an idea; we just need an American to play the sad niece.
L’Americain: Uh. No.
Rear Window: I know you don’t have money. We’ll pay you. 10 large.
L’Americain: Oh, I see how it is. This wasn’t Walter’s idea, was it? And the charity won’t actually get anything, will it?
Rear Window: Duh. But 10k is a lot of money.
L’Americain: I’ll do it for 20.
WELL. That rather explains Rear Window’s very specific figure from blackmailing Cheekbones, now doesn’t it? But it doesn’t explain why L’Americain is so upset. My personal theory is that she’s just realized that maybe Rear Window was a little more complicit in Walter’s death than we all originally thought, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see. In the meantime, Cheekbones meets Softie in a graveyard, where the brothers are visiting a specific stone, and Softie’s accountant sneaks back into his office at (wait for it) a police station. A crooked cop? On a mystery show? It’s more likely than you think!
Back at the graveyard, Softie berates his brother (lightly).
Softie: Look, I asked you for one thing: to not go on vacation on one specific day. You went off to live your life, and I asked for one thing in return.
Cheekbones: They said she had months!
Softie: Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I asked for that ONE DAY. Look, after, the one thing that helped was my shop; I thought that meant you actually cared. But clearly you didn’t do it for me; you did it for you.
Cheekbones: I opened my practice during the recession. It was a bad idea. I got in trouble, and I got desperate.
Softie: I don’t want to hear it.
Cheekbones: I really need to tell you though.
Softie: NO. I just want to stand here like I do EVERY YEAR on this date and think about how my life would have been different if I’d gotten out like you did. This was my way out, and you took it from me. Yes, my band probably wouldn’t have gotten signed, but I needed the chance. And now I might have it.
Cheekbones: I get why you think that. You’re better than the life you have. I should have helped you earlier, and I can help you now. If you want more, stick with me, and I can do it. Please don’t just follow her.
Softie: Maybe she’s the wrong option. But I don’t have anything to lose.
Cheekbones, desperate: Softie, you’re in danger. Serious danger.
Softie: Cool, so call the cops.
Cheekbones: Ugh, this isn’t a police thing.
Softie: It never is, is it. What did you do?
Cheekbones: I will tell you as much as you want to know. But if you leave now, we are both screwed.
Softie: Great. At least I’ll have company.
YIKES. Gotta say, I can’t fault Softie for this attitude, but he might feel differently once he realizes the actual magnitude of “serious danger.” Also in some danger? Rear Window, who’s been summoned to Walter’s house to pay the piper/L’Americain.
L’Americain: Let’s start with the checkbook I found.
Rear Window: What, 50 bucks here and there? No biggie. I paid for stuff and then he paid me back — he was housebound!
L’Americain: That’s not what you told me.
Rear Window: What, you wanted me to tell you the ins and outs of caring for a dying person? It’s not a fun conversation to have, kiddo!
L’Americain: I think you took his money and were sick of waiting around to get the house, so you overdosed him.
Rear Window: WHAT?
L’Americain: Yeah, and Walter thought so too: he left a note in the records for his niece.
Rear Window: He wasn’t thinking clearly, and that’s what any lawyer would tell you.
L’Americain: What did you pull me into?
Rear Window: You need to get out of town. I don’t care where you go, just leave. I’ll pay you when the house is sold.
L’Americain: I don’t trust you enough to leave without it. You’re a liar, after all.
Rear Window, not even remotely hurt: That’s hurtful. And anyway, there are only liars here.
Across town, Spin Class Friend shows up Chez Cheekbones, to, rightfully, tell Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones that that was a crappy way to break up with someone. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they’re in full agreement.
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: Regardless, we can’t hook up here. And I know the morality horse, as it were, is well and truly out of the barn, but…
Spin Class Friend: Nice place. But then again I guess you do have a shady lawyer husband, so.
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: He’s not shady, he’s hard working!
Spin Class Friend:
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: I mean sure, we never talk about his work. We never talk about a lot of things though. Why do you even care?
Spin Class Friend: I shouldn’t have come here.
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: I’m sorry. You’re the first time I’ve been happy in a long time, and so of course I ran away. Maybe… we don’t have to make any decisions yet?
Spin Class Friend, hurt: Uh… look. It was a one time thing, that’s fine, don’t be hard on yourself. I guess I’ll just see you at class.
Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones: NO. Wait!
And then she breaks her previous rule of no funny business in the house and kisses Spin Class Friend. I won’t lie to you, reader: I’m rooting for these crazy kids. Anyway, that was enough pleasantness for a bit: next, we’re following Softie’s accountant, the cop, to the hospital where he’s meant to be interviewing an uncooperative witness. Is it a domestic abuse victim? Someone who’s been in a car crash? Of course not; things are rarely that simple. No, it’s Remington Steele Reserve, who’s been found passed out at the docks where Scary Baddie left him.
I’m sure the interview will go great (lol), but first we head over to Rear Window’s house, where her buddy, the publican who hired L’Americain and subsequently introduced the two women, is eating dinner. Maybe Rear Window’s not a great cook, or maybe he’s starting to worry that his friend’s a murderer, staring as he is at the picture of Rear Window and Walter she’s hung in pride of place at the beginning of the episode, but either way, he’s NOT enjoying his food.
Publican: It’s too bad what happened.
Rear Window: Yup.
Publican: It’s also too bad what happened to Ralph.
Me: WHO is RALPH?
Rear Window, cold: Eat your soup. You better get on the road before it gets too dark.
Raise your hand if you’re starting to think that Rear Window might just be a casual serial killer!
Back at the hospital, Accountant/Cop’s partner starts trying to interview Remington Steele Reserve, who is, predictably, not interested in having that conversation.
Partner: So. What happened?
Remington Steele Reserve: Someone hit me from behind. I didn’t see what happened. It’s my legal right not to say anything else.
Partner: Accountant/Cop, care to chime in?
Accountant/Cop, hiding behind the divider between beds: No thanks!
Partner: Seriously, this is a violent crime, we want to get this person off the street.
Remington Steele Reserve: I’m not going to talk. Bye!
Sensing a lost cause, Partner leaves him her business card, and heads out, berating Accountant/Cop on the way for his perpetual skiving off and general laziness.
Partner: Dude, just retire or take a leave of absence for depression, or whatever.
Accountant/Cop: What? Depression?
Partner: Well if you’re not depressed, your whole thing is still a major bummer.
Accountant/Cop: I guess that’s fair. Oh no! I left my phone back there — go on without me, I’ve already wasted your time too much today. I’m definitely not planning to intimidate that witness or rough him up or anything, cross my heart!
Partner: Weird ending note, but ok! Bye!
With that, she leaves, and Accountant/Cop gets back to the room just in time to see Cheekbones arrive for a visit through the window. It seems like he decides he’s had enough of that crew for the day, so he leaves to go be miserable by himself. If only he knew everyone else in the show was similarly unhappy! L’Americain and Softie send each other mournful texts about how they have to spill secrets (which should at least be an amusing farce for those of us at home to enjoy). Cheekbones calls Sleazy Loan Shark with the bad news that Softie is unwilling to play ball and an attempt to get Sleazy Loan Shark’s goons to just rough Softie up a bit, and not kill him outright. And Spin Class Friend comes home, pours herself a drink, and tells a mysterious unseen person that Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones doesn’t know anything.
Look, because this show is so bonkers, I’m assuming no one is that surprised when out of the shadows lurks the one and only Mister Maytag, who’s apparently asked Spin Class Friend to get close to Long-Suffering Lady Cheekbones to spy on her.
Mister Maytag: I feel like I asked you to be her friend.
Spin Class Friend: Hard to get friendlier than having an affair with someone, bud. And seriously: she really doesn’t know anything.
Mister Maytag: Ok, if you say so!
I’ll tell you what, pals: I don’t like that guy! He’s way too menacing by half. And, true to his word, while he’s scaring the everloving crap out of Spin Class Friend, some of his guys (probably including Scary Baddie) ambush Softie on his walk to Walter’s house, and start roughing him up. I have to assume they won’t take it too far, but we’ll have to wait for the last episode to find out, and to hopefully finally untangle this complicated-ass plot: is anyone actually who they say they are? Who can we trust? And will anyone come out of this unscathed? Episode 4 has our answers.
Episode 1 Recap: Your Turn To Drive
Episode 2 Recap: Cold Little Heart
