Having exhausted Fake Marple, I ordered up this fantastic 1999 series, starring Diana Rigg as an ageing flapper who solves crimes with her chauffeur. A typical episode goes something like this:
CHAUFFEUR: Is it really wise going to this country house, my lady?
MRS B: Of course it is. Solid, cold and wintry - It reminds me of an ex-husband. Whereas I go like a tiger. And happily make inappropriately vulgar sexual remarks all the way through.
CHAUFFEUR: Nearly there now.
MRS B: I wish I had a cock.
THEY ARRIVE. MRS B HAS A GIN AND CHANGES OUTFITS BEFORE GETTING OUT OF THE CAR.
NICE YOUNG GIRL: I’m so glad you could come down.
MRS B: Yes, you’re terribly lucky.
NICE YOUNG GIRL IS PROMPTLY DROWNED
MRS B: Well, that puts a damper on things.
CHAUFFEUR: You used that pun last week.
MRS B: Oh. What a wet weekend – have we used that recently?
SOMEONE ELSE DIES. MRS B CHANGES OUTFITS.
MRS B: Of course, the unique thing about this show is that every now and then I turn to the camera and address you, the lucky viewer. It gives me an air of ironic aloofness. And you really should do something about that sofa.
CHAUFFEUR: There’s been another murder. Someone’s been strangled.
MRS B: Really? How breathtaking. I’ll be in the drawing room wearing my especially arched eyebrows.
PETER DAVISON: Hello! I’m playing Inspector Christmas.
MRS B: Fuck me. Only on Sunday night TV would you get this. You’re not going to die are you?
PETER: Good lord no, I’m in every episode.
MRS B: In that case get me a scotch. Is your first name Mary, Inspector Christmas?
PETER: No, that would be going too far. It’s Harry.
MRS B: Make it a double. Oh, and you at home? Your dog is widdling on the Radio Times. Stop it at once.
CHAUFFEUR: I’ve made your bedroom ready, my lady.
MRS B: Lovely. Of course, we’re like, totally shagging.
CHAUFFEUR: Yes, my lady.
MRS B CHANGES OUTFITS AGAIN. SOMEONE ELSE DIES.
MRS B: Oh, this is complete wank isn’t it?