HAVING watched a trillion detective shows I would like to think that we, thee and me, could crack a case on our own by now. The circumstances would have to be extreme, a mass outbreak of dicky tummy, say, that drove most of the country’s cops to their beds. But when the call came we would answer.

Look at how easy it was to solve the mystery that was Suspect (Channel 4, Sunday-Wednesday). Adapted from the Danish crime drama Forhoret (“The Interrogation”), this tale of a suspicious death had a cast of A-listers as long as the law’s arm. James Nesbitt, Joely Richardson, Anne-Marie Duff, Sam Heughan, Richard E Grant – any one of them would draw a viewer in. Together they were a Ferrero Rocher pyramid of talent. Ooh, Channel 4, you are really spoiling us!

An open and shut case of a hit, right? Not on our watch. The hackles were up from the opening scene of Danny the detective (Nesbitt) confronting Jackie the pathologist (Richardson) in a mortuary. On the slab was a woman (there usually is) who turned out to be Danny’s daughter, Christina, which he did not know until the moment he pulled the sheet back. What are the chances of that happening?

Also off was the stagey confrontation and creaky dialogue as the characters went head to head. The two-hander turned out to be the preferred format as the eight half hour episodes played out over four nights. Like some modern version of An Inspector Calls, Danny, convinced his daughter had been murdered, confronted major figures in Christina’s life, picking out how they, and he, had failed her.

The evidence against Suspect mounted. Characters said and did things real people never would: “Your daughter was in flames when I met her, Danny!” said an acquaintance. Then there was Danny himself, pointing a scalpel towards Christina’s body and screaming: “Open her up or I’ll do it myself!”

Danny was popping pills throughout, so it could have been that this carry on was happening in his imagination. A more likely explanation was that the material was tired – maverick detective, Scandi noir, yawn – and what originality there was did not translate well, despite the stellar cast.

Far more fun was to be found in McDonald and Dodds (STV, Sunday). Once again it was familiar fare: chalk and cheese detectives (Tala Gouveia as DCI Lauren McDonald, Jason Watkins, DS Dodds) fighting crime in an architecturally handsome city (Bath). The story was daft: another dead woman, this one found in a crowded park, sitting in a deckchair with a smile on her face. Questions sallied forth. Who was she? Why was she looking so happy? How much would a mini-break in Bath cost?

Written by Robert Murphy (Inspector George Gently) and back for a third series, M&D makes ideal Sunday evening viewing. Light, amusing, smashing cast (including Alan Davies as a Sherlock Holmes of linguistics and Sian Phillips as his diva of a mum), and at two hours long delivered at a relaxed pace. Another case solved.

Lenny Henry's Caribbean Britain (BBC2, Wednesday) had a question at its core. What had Caribbean culture given Britain, from music and drama to art and fashion, and what did it get in return? He set out to answer through a mix of clips and interviews starting with the calypso era and moving on to ska. Part two is next week. It was an eye-opener, with some material familiar (the eternally awful Love Thy Neighbour) but much of it not. A lot of effort had gone into assembling the argument but the best bits were personal to Henry, including his days as a young comedian, telling jokes against himself to fit in with the times. Other black comedians did the same (Charlie Williams to audiences: “Laugh or I’ll move in next door to you.”) It was clear this was a bruise Henry still couldn’t press without it hurting, but he did.

The Whistleblowers: Inside the UN (BBC2, Tuesday) laid bare a shocking catalogue of allegations against the organisation meant to alleviate human suffering in the world. Corruption, cover-up, the sexual abuse of children, co-operation with dictatorial regimes – it was the grimmest of charge sheets. Those who had blown the whistle told their stories and spoke of the price they had paid for doing so.

The UN’s response took the form of written statements. There were also general clips of senior personnel expressing zero tolerance of bad behaviour.

That, however, was it. For 90 minutes, an organisation that employs 35,000 staff, and has a budget of £50 billion, failed to put forward anyone who would sit in front of a camera and answer questions. Somehow that said it all.