All language subtitles for Inspector.Morse.S03E04.PAL.DVDRip.x264

Don't go tonight.

I beg you rosemary, please Don't go
You're drinking

again

Don't

go rosemary.

I'll come home Please

you selfish, scheming, thankless bitch.

If you think you can just back out of
things when you like, you better realize

you've got another thing coming.

Because it could be that I've got some
idea about what I like, too.

You seem to think it's drop everything
now between us except your knickers.

And it won't just be my word against
yours.

I have the photographs.

Your husband would be very interested in
one of them.

Certainly one of them.

I mean it Rosemary.

Be there.

How do you manage to look like that when
you've been up to your elbows in dead

guts all day?

I mean our lady pathologist more.

Mind you, she scares the pants off me.

Especially when I remember what she
earns.

Here's your chance, as the band takes
you into a quick -step medley and a good

old -fashioned ladies' request and
excuse me.

Hang on.

Maybe I'm brave enough for it.

I didn't know they had ladies' requests
anymore.

Good evening, Chief Inspector.

Good evening, Dr. Russell.

We were just saying you look very, um,
off -duty tonight.

I hope off -duty is a compliment.

You brought a friend.

A colleague from the hospital.

To pity on me.

You shall get the ball, he said.

Let's dance, Spectre.

Where did you learn?

Here, Oxford, College Hot.

Of course.

You're such an educated chap.

Listen, I ought to explain. Technically,
I'm on duty tonight, or I might be

more... More what?

More organised with invitations.

What's wrong?

Sometimes I think my sergeant hates to
see me enjoying myself.

Are you?

Enjoying yourself?

It's... I'm murdered.

Report came in 20 minutes ago, sir. Some
bloke phoned to say it would interest

the police to go to Bay 5B of the
Westgate car park.

Take a look in the BMW there. That's
all.

Well, I hope it's been verified.

I wouldn't want my night out ruined by a
hoax.

Yeah, it's been confirmed already, sir.

Shane, you seem to be having a good
time.

I've been rescued from civil duo.

No. Good.

This dress cost a fortune.

I'd have had to step out of it.

Why would a car thief ring the police?

He'd get the hell out, wouldn't he?

Looking for a handbag, he finds a
corpse.

Well, you see, you have to know the
criminal mind. Now, the mind of a car

has its peculiarities. This is with the
water.

Car park superintendant. I'd be grateful
if you'd give Sergeant Lewis an account

of parking procedures here, Mr. Waugh.
Always delighted to help the

This is, uh, from in a computer.

The car's registered in the name of
Michael Gifford, 12 Riverside Reach.

That's the name on the credit cards, and
there's a signed ID picture in there.

What is he, 32, 33?

I am born 11th of December, 1955.

What else have we got?

A portfolio of architect drawings, a
copy of the RIBA journal, yellow

dust, wash leather, all in the back.

Glove compartment?

Locked. Okay, if we move the body,
Inspector.

Just give me a second.

ticket. Miss you tonight.

Twelve minutes past seven.

That figures.

He's been dead four or five hours.

Say, between then and eight o 'clock.

Oh, and a strangling's official.

With a piece of new white cord.

He's not used for hanging pictures.
Nothing remarkable.

And nothing much in the pockets either.

House keys on a ring.

A loose change.

And the wallet.

Car keys.

None. And none in the ignition.

Yes, I noticed that.

Peculiar.

Why would the killer take the keys and
leave the car?

You didn't bring your friend.

Why would I?

He's a paediatrician. Not interested in
corpses.

Sorry. Just something to say.

I'd like to think that we could finish
that dance sometime.

So would I.

Not a bad horse.

Bit more to go.

The computer says he was divorced, lived
alone.

So there could be somebody waiting up.

I think there should be a lizard.

You will meet it.

Hello?

How are you feeling now, Lewis?

A bit groggy, but not bad.

I really appreciate you coming down to
the hospital.

It sets time, doesn't it? You get the
okay, we can press on with the job.

Anyway, you're a bit of a record
-breaker now.

Two cracked heads in how many weeks?

Yeah, all right.

You must have a skull like an anvil.

I wasn't on the same spot.

The first knock was here.

Last night was there.

And you saw some sort of a van driving
off?

Yeah. Some sort of van.

Could have been.

Could have been.

Well, I was puffing out at the time,
sir.

I don't think you'd get anything.

No.

There were plenty of family walls
around.

Not touched.

Maybe you disturbed him before he got
going.

Unless he was looking for something
specific.

That's it. OK.

Doc says I've got high -quality bowling.

I told you.

Like an anvil.

Gifford was an architect, successful.

Expanding practice in Abingdon.

There wasn't a lot of design around that
house.

Yes. A bit self -conscious, I thought,
like his car.

What about the car?

The stuff in it?

Two videos in the glove compartment.

Pornographic. Yeah?

I hope we're not in for a lot of that.

And a diary.

I'm going for this first.

And the parking ticket.

Come on, George.

You're just up.

Yeah.

I've been after a shift at the fairing.

Fitting, eh?

Didn't log much.

I was trying to track that new vixen
down at the cots.

What do you think?

Oh, it's all there, sir, isn't it?

I mean, yesterday's date, 7 .15pm,
Westgate car park.

It said 7 .12 on the parking ticket.

He was meeting someone.

And today's date?

Nothing.

Well... Just a circle around the number.

Something's supposed to be happening,
perhaps.

Did you go back a bit last June, July?

Yeah, there's more.

6 .20, 7 .00 p .m., 7 .15, all with the
car park.

No entries in August.

Right.

When did you switch to that stuff,
Lewis, mineral water?

Are you developing yuppie aspirations?

You can't have a yuppie policeman, can
you?

No, the doctor gave us painkillers.

I hope they don't dull your wits.

Go to the front.

The notes bit.

Look at the phone numbers.

Nothing special.

Doctor, dentist, garage, AA.

One here with no identification.

One that just says... Camilla?

Is that what it says?

That's what I read. Camilla in brackets
and a circle around today's date.

It's not bad, this.

It's not up to their barley most
special, but... We'll find out about

number, sir.

It belongs to the Cotswold Insurance
Company, North Oxford branch.

Figures.

Have your insurer's number in your
diary?

It would figure if he'd had a policy
with them.

Didn't he?

They told me on the phone they'd never
heard of him. Well, he could have been

thinking about, I don't know, changing
to the Cotswold.

In which case, he'd have put the name,
wouldn't he?

Still, first things first, Gifford's
work's set up.

You take the office, I'll try and talk
to his partner.

You will be all right on your own, won't
you, Lewis?

I'm not a partner. Actually, I'm an
associate.

I was negotiating for a partnership.

Were the negotiations going well, sir?

It's common knowledge that Michael liked
to run his own ship.

Did you and Mr. Gibbett see each other
socially?

No, we kept our dealings strictly
professional.

So you don't know what went on in his
private life?

Well, he hinted occasionally.

Liked to... women.

Good times. Sounded rather hollow to me.

Hollow?

Well, after the divorce.

His wife left him?

She ran away to the States with a
photographer a couple of years ago.

Not a very good photographer.

What are you saying, sir? He was
devastated?

Stupefied would be more accurate. He'd
have been happier if it had been David

Bailey.

You didn't like him?

I didn't have to. I admired him.

His vision.

Energy, he... He sold the company as a
group of discriminating

specialists. Nothing too large in terms
of work, but always stimulating.

I'm a restoration man myself.

It's not my field, the modern stuff.

Very much Michael's thing.

So he'll be hard to replace?

The underlings can't replace the boss
exactly, can they?

And I have no authority.

not being a partner, as I said.

Two main projects at the moment are the
office block in Worcester Street and the

leisure complex at Interlaken.

What was Mr Gifford like to work for?

Come on.

The man's dead.

Let's observe the decencies.

We're all very sad and shocked. That's
the truth.

Ring Janice, will you?

She's had time enough to compose
herself.

Janice? Oh, our receptionist.

She's terribly young.

A lot more upset than the rest of us.

Any particular reason why she should be?

Sure I don't know, Sergeant.

What I'd say about Mr Gifford is he set
a standard he expected everyone else to

keep to.

Well, even yesterday.

Yesterday?

Leaving early.

Four o 'clock.

He said he'd earned it for working
through his lunch.

Four o 'clock?

Any idea where he was going to?

Driving into Oxford, he said.

But Janice saw him last.

Hello, Janice.

There's nothing to be frightened of. I
just want a word or two.

Let's get out and have fresh air, shall
we?

Ice skating, sir?

Yes, I go every Wednesday.

That's what my wife and I call statutory
recreation.

She stays and looks after the children,
and then on Fridays I stay and she goes

to a philosophy lecture.

A popular venue, the ice rink, right
opposite the Westgate car park.

Yes, it's appalling to think I was so
close.

Well, we'll get all that sorted out,
sir.

Times and so forth.

I always go to the seven o 'clock
session and use the ice rink car park.

Interlaken. You said. Could this be for
Mr. Gifford?

A small ingratiation.

I'm sorry, sir?

Postcard for the site foreman. Michael
likes to be one of the boys.

It'd be a work trip, though, wouldn't
it? Not a holiday.

A bit of both.

A little late skiing while he supervised
the construction and deepened his thumb

turn.

I'd like to have this, sir.

Certainly, sir.

Oh, one last thing, sir.

Does the name Camilla mean anything to
you?

OK, now, so you'd better miss tea around
3 .30.

And what happened then?

He... Well, he sometimes said things.

Like, I don't know, if he could make a
fool out of you in front of other

Like what he did yesterday?

My tights were all wrong with my shoes.

He said the clients got their first
impression of the practice from me on

desk.

And it was loud.

Anything else?

He said, why bother working my notice?

He could soon get someone who wasn't a
liability.

No wonder you were leaving.

Now, listen.

I've got to ask you this.

Did Mr Gifford ever anything more to you
than just the boss?

It was only... It didn't last long.

It was all finished months and months
ago.

We may not even need to bother you
again.

Nothing's worth getting this upset
about, is it?

I'll leave it there, then, for now. I'll
get someone to take her home straight

away. No, no, no.

No -one's taking me home.

I'll go home, I'll get a taxi.

No -one's taking me.

All right, Janice.

It's all right, dear.

I've just remembered, Sergeant Lewis.

There was a phone call yesterday around
three o 'clock.

It could just have been that that
decided Mr Gifford to leave early.

Any idea who it was?

No.

It was a woman's voice.

I did it, sir.

The name Camilla get any reaction?

No, total blank.

And where's the radio tones?

Excuse me, sir. You got any butter?

Gazing out on the Jungfrau.

The Frau not as Jung as all that, but
experiences everything.

Booze and high jinks well up to
standard. See you 30th. Cheers, MG.

Now, what sort of man detaches the Frau
from Jungfrau like that? The sort that

gets strangled for his jokes?

The sort that shows off about women but
doesn't really like them.

Cutchy, arrogant, high -flyer, discarded
girlfriend in the background.

Yeah.

Technic Bartley has a little jealous.

Seems like he'd trample on her.

And a jealous colleague.

You managed to find yourself something,
then?

Oh, yes, sir.

Sardine. One sardine and a radish.

Good.

This is it.

Collector's item.

Camilla, sir.

In brackets.

What? Oh, oh, yeah.

Yes, I'm seeing her tonight.

Oh, on your own, sir? Yes.

Well, I think we can leave that now,
Lewis.

Anything wrong, sir?

I had a couple of tickets for the opera.
They seemed to have disappeared.

Two tickets?

Yes.

I must have... Well, I can look for them
later.

Oh, didn't my staff... I mean, I left
the instructions.

No problem, is there?

We did a full database search this
morning.

Murder guy has no connection with
Cotswold Insurance.

Your number was in his diary.

Well, he could have been going to give
us a whirl.

Just as well he didn't. We'll be
shelling out now. Big maybe.

Maybe. Look, I am sorry that I didn't
stick around to see you at the office.

I would have saved us some time.

We need to go to the top. You're the
manager.

Yeah, well, I just had to get out and
unwind.

There was a bit of an atmosphere.

Anyone tell you?

You tell me, Mr Manley.

Oh, it wasn't anything, you know, just
one of the girls.

Women.

Bit of promotion's gone to her head,
stands on her rights.

We had this rush on, you know, looking
for your stuff, amongst everything else,

and she was whinging about our bloody
flexi time and this...

It's birthday lunch. Can you imagine
that she arranged that the dew drop?

Oh, and a couple of the others.

Now, give me blokes any time, I'm
afraid.

You can, you know, you can ball a bloke
out, can't you? You know, get it sorted,

buy him a pint, then it's all over.

Right.

Well, yeah, not with a woman.

Well, not Rosemary Henderson, anyway.

You know, she got me wound up yesterday.
Same thing.

So you unwind at the squash court.

Yeah, yeah, that's it.

Bit of marathon running?

Rowing?

Good for the broker's bulge.

Thank you for talking to us.

You will look out for any possible
connection.

Inform the people who are at the lunch.

Sure, sure.

Hey, I thought you were Jack, is it?

What a beaut.

You know, I had my eye on a 2 .4 Mark
II.

That's a settle for an F -type.

Excuse me, Mr Manley, we've a very busy
day ahead.

Oh, sorry again.

Cheers.

Hello. We're just knocking off.

We've got the purse coat on the
woodwork, so mind the handrail.

Bloody hell.

The ticket we're looking for, lads, is
something like that.

But anything else you see, give us a
nod.

Friar has Wednesdays off. I have
Fridays.

Part of the grand plan for keeping his
soul alive in the domestic swamp.

Your husband explained.

Mr Pierce believes ice skating is good
for his soul, does he?

Mine's the soul it is, Steve.

He's pretty well fulfilled by his work.
The ice skating is to give his brain a

rest.

If he left here at 6 .30, he'd have
parked around 6 .45.

You know, they'll never find a ticket.

Honestly, I'm always hearing garbage out
of the car. Both cars.

Still, it's a formality, isn't it?

Well, it is a formality.

It's also an inconvenience.

Michael, he might seem harsh to say
this.

He did nothing but inconvenience, Brian.

Now he's doing it from the grave.

Why didn't Mr. Pierce leave the
practice?

Jobs with, I suppose, the Gifford cachet
aren't easy to come by. But he was

looking round.

Not a thing, sir.

No ticket, no receipt.

Will you excuse me, Mrs. Pierce?

You didn't ever sort of pass the time of
day with any of the other skaters, did

you? Well, I may have done.

Might be in question.

Romney Marsh, sir.

Oh, yes.

A little Inchbold.

Do you like it?

Sir, it's unusual for him. It's early.

See, Inchbold generally went in first.
Yes, I'm aware of what Inchbold

went in for, sir.

If you know where to look, the prices
are not prohibitive.

They are if you're a policeman.

Even if you know where to look.

I want the ice rink staff questioned
about Pierce.

I want a check run on his income,
anything earned by his wife.

Also a discreet watch on all multi
-story car parks tonight.

Right, sir.

He doesn't look much like an ice skater,
does he?

See him in a sequined catsuit.

It's a white cord, Lewis.

DIY's door fell miles in it.

I've got to hang it in my shed.

No, it's a question of find the frow.

There's a woman in there somewhere.

Not Mrs Pierce?

Mrs Pierce is a house frow.

Bend your mind to the diary again, too,
would you?

Also, think about why someone would have
eight...

exquisite, genuine, pre -Raphaelite
paintings on his wall and one dud.

What is it, a dud? A Romney marsh?

Well, if it's an inch bold, even an
early inch bold, I'm the next chief

constable.

Gifford. I know Michael.

Poor Michael.

But today's date means nothing.

You weren't expecting him.

No.

Can I get you a drink?

Uh, thanks.

Could I, uh... Is there a bottle of
Glenduic there?

Probably.

Most of this goes for export now.

Cheers. Cheers.

How did you meet Gifford?

The usual way.

Sorry, the usual way?

For a prostitute to meet a man.

It was in a bar, somewhere suave. I'm
very careful.

No one ever suspects I'm anything but a
straight businesswoman with a line in

fashion.

When was that? February.

He was in town on an architect's
conference.

That was before my appointment book was
as busy as it is now. Before I could

pick and choose.

I'm not really familiar with... We don't
see this...

Not precisely this level of activity in
Oxford.

Disturbs you?

No.

No. Yes, Inspector, yes. You can't keep
a disapproval out of your voice.

A nice girl like me.

Where are you going, Brian?

It's your turn to read the story.

We have absolutely nothing to hide.

Then why haven't we told them? There's
no point. It's not necessary.

No, listen, Bright, listen.

Did you see Gifford on a regular basis?

Not exactly.

He was more trouble than he was work.

Sometimes, though.

He liked to monopolise me when he was in
town.

Whole nights, weekends.

I went to Brighton with him.

April, that'll be.

Good hotel.

Money, no object. But, I don't know, his
ego got in the way.

Then he wanted me to go to Switzerland.

In Tlalocan, in June?

Yes. All expenses paid. He said I was
tax -deductible.

Did you go?

No. He was starting to get, oh, I don't
know, possessive. Some men do about

whores. I didn't need that for him.

I'm in this business because I like it
and I'm good at it.

He was only competent, whatever he liked
to think about his performance.

You rejected him.

How did he react?

Some men I meet halfway.

The powerful thought.

The thought that, well, there aren't
many of them who appreciate what I've

to offer.

Take the trouble to please me, too.

You didn't answer the question.

So he went quietly.

In the end.

Did he ever mention anything about his
background, his wife, the divorce?

Well, that has nothing to do... No, I'm
not.

Why?

Too choosy, too hesitant, too lazy, too
busy.

Hesitant?

Yes.

Sometimes. Isn't everyone?

I'm not.

Look, you know, I find it very hard to
believe in your perfectly controlled,

perfectly self -contained life.

You're hesitant because you've never
found out what you're really capable of.

If you did, you'd have the confidence
for anything forever after, with any

woman.

Why did you really stop seeing Gifford?

I told you, he was a nuisance. He was
boring.

Oh, come on.

Boringness is endemic, isn't it?

And you just said, you said that all the
interesting ones are few and far

between. You cut out all the bores,
you'd have no business.

Well, all right. He did get rather
unpleasant when I said I wouldn't go to

interlock. How unpleasant?

Threats? Not actually. He sent some
letters.

Well, what kind of letters? Have you got
them? No.

Why? Were they too horrible to keep?

I wouldn't say.

Well, no, not actually.

All right, all right. They were pretty
terrible.

He couldn't take rejection.

You whoring, ungrateful cow, that kind
of thing.

Anything else?

There was a tape, a cassette tape. It
came through the post.

Revolting.

I got rid of that, too. Sorry.

I'd better go.

What about this woman?

Which woman?

The one you hesitate with.

We could explore.

Explore.

Only it wouldn't... There'd be no
obligation.

He's dead.

He was dead, all right. He was dead when
I found him, I swear.

Tell me.

What I say, isn't it?

All right, I go through the back window.

I step my hand in.

I do the lock.

I mean, I'm done for the radio, aren't
I?

So I get the door open and I find the
body. There you go.

So what did you do?

I phoned you, didn't I?

You could have done it.

He was a sleep under that rug.

You disturbed him, panicked and
throttled him.

Did you get my mum? No, he didn't. He
didn't get her.

Go on.

What?

Why did you break the back window?

Well, I just told you, didn't I?

There must be easier ways of getting in.

No, no, not with a BMW, right?

I mean, look, even if you drop a wire,
there's all these safety catches and

stuff on the locks.

Get rid of him. Eh?

Out, Miles.

We've had enough.

Do a statement.

Now, wait.

Where's the key?

Be useful to a fella like you, BMW key.

Well, I won't now.

Anything new?

He got better looking when the swelling
went down.

His daily identified him without too
much precaution.

I don't think she liked him, though. No
one did.

He was sun -panned, but not in the usual
places.

He'd been late skiing in Interlaken, not
lazing on a beach without his clothes.

Do you ever do that?

What? Time of death between 6 .30 and 7
.30. Laze on a beach without your

clothes. No.

Was he fit?

Extremely.

Beautiful muscle tone.

The attacker was right -handed? And
tremendously strong.

Had to be. I mean, if Gifford had put up
a fight, he'd been quite an opponent.

Not a woman?

I don't think so.

Possible, but how many women can be this
aggressive?

It's very rare.

That's right.

Thanks.

I sometimes wonder why I'm doing this
job.

Why I'm not out there among the living,
stayed like this.

Maybe... I could do with some lathing on
a beach. That's better.

It's a tantalising thought.

Is it? I sometimes wonder about police
work too, but in the end,

we both pay the price for job
satisfaction.

At least you're at the top.

So are you.

I suppose I've settled for something.

Actually, I...

I was wondering... Big load from the
infirmary, Doctor.

Nasty spleen they want you to look at.
Fast, if possible.

Yes, OK. I'll be along in a moment.

I'll, uh... I'll call you.

Let's walk, Lewis.

OK.

Seen enough to say how Gifford liked his
porn?

Oh, straighter. More or less.

Like these women a bit on the submissive
side, huh?

Hey, the acting in those things is
terrible.

Couldn't take rejection.

So that's it. Come in, then.

No -one recalled Grant Pierce at the ice
rink.

The instructor swore he'd seen him at
the Green Cafe regularly, evenings.

You checked?

No corroboration.

Could turn over a stop there.

And what about his money?

Well, Gibbett paid him 20 ,000 a year,
so he can make a few thousand extra from

jobs on the side.

Well, his wife has 1 ,500 a year for a
family trust.

Try buying three Repolite landscapes and
portraits with that.

Well, get the fraud squad, boys, to go
over Gifford's account.

Oh, Janice.

I've tried the address and number on her
office record.

She wasn't there.

Haven't lived there for weeks.

How did Phoenix fit in with the circle
in the diary?

The circle in the diary could relate to
anything, couldn't it?

I had a spot to bother getting to sleep
last night.

I kept going over and over that.

So we have this, like, calendar, and
Valerie does it, puts circles around

important dates.

Kids' dental appointments and sports
days and such.

She'd write them in, though, wouldn't
she?

So she'd know why she'd mark them.

Yeah, well, I suppose.

But not the really obvious thing.

Such as?

Birthdays in the family.

The birthdays of someone close don't
need an explanation. It's just to

the... Well, to post the card in time.

I suppose so.

Oh, you mean Gifford, maybe? Yes.

Because he knew someone with a birthday
yesterday. Someone close.

Who?

I don't know about close, but he knew
someone with a birthday.

Well, think, Lewis.

Manly. In Manly's office.

Correct. The woman he had a row with?

At the Cotswold Insurance Company.

Yeah, and Gifford had the Cotswold
number, but no name next to it.

He didn't need to put a name. It was
familiar.

Lewis!

How's the head?

I thought you'd never ask.

I seem to have inconvenienced you again,
Sergeant.

But I mean if you've always kept quiet
about something.

If it comes to that, anyone could have
seen us. It's a public place.

Not from this office.

Do you think we could take it from the
beginning again?

Yes, sure.

We're opera buffs, Amy and me.

Look, perhaps here I should say that I'm
a... My wife's dead.

Amy's divorced.

Real gossip fodder.

This bunch salt of the earth, but they
never in a million years believed that

could just be friends.

Manager and secretary.

So you were at the opera on Wednesday
night? We saw De Ros and Cavalier.

Could I make the point that Edward, Mr
Manley, turns these occasions into

for me and my daughter?

She's disabled. We don't get many
treats.

I think you might find this statement of
interest.

So, you parked your car in St Giles, eh?

A little before 6 .55 on Wednesday. You
went to meet Mrs Morris and her daughter

at the Apollo.

Then we all had a drink in the bar.

You were in your seats when?

Quarter past, twenty past seven.

Wonderful seats.

Front stalls.

I did a copy of the holiday list.

Thanks, Gloria.

You wanted to see the staff holiday
dates.

Two people away the end of June.

Marion Robbins and Rosemary Henderson.

Is that of any interest?

Which one's the birthday girl, Mr
Manley?

I'm not reading you.

Someone had a birthday yesterday.

That was Rosemary, exercising her
rights.

Any idea where she went for holidays?

I'm not sure.

South of France, wasn't it?

Switzerland. Interlaken.

Remember? The hotel suite with the
superb crystal chandeliers. I'd like to

to her now.

Trust Rosemary to be missing when she's
wanted.

She's clinching an account today,
somewhere in Swindon.

Eight, right round, and one, two, three,
four, five, six,

seven, change direction, eight.

How long does she come here?

In the book.

Fully paired up.

250 quid a year.

She can come whenever she wants for
that.

Mostly Wednesdays after wrestling with
Gifford at the Westgate.

Well, this place closed for structural
operation in August.

No appointments in the diary for August.

How often do you have a stiff drink
before your exercise classes?

Not often.

Never.

A Wednesday was different, I told her.

Tell me again.

I'd had this terrible day.

A row at the office.

Although that was nothing new.

And no one to tell about it when I got
home.

My husband's very...

Well, he seems obsessed with the work
these days.

You parked at Gloucester Green.

They issue stickers there.

Did you get one?

I must have done.

I don't know where it is.

If you were at Gloucester Green at 6
.45, still here at 20 past, and doing

backbends at 7 .45, there's no way you
had time to dodge up to the fifth level

of the Westgate.

How about before?

Before? Look, I don't need to tell you,
Mrs. Henderson, it would have been

better for everyone, including you, if
you'd come forward sooner.

How could I come forward?

I'm married.

Michael and me, it was... Well, I
suppose you could call it a holiday

Isn't that ridiculous at my age?

No.

You were telling me you met Gifford for
the first time at Interlaken.

That was what was so... I mean, there we
were in the Alps.

This hotel and everything.

He said his firm was in Abington.

And I said that... Well, the coincidence
was...

You were alone?

Yes, my husband hates flying and I
need... Well, I just had to get away.

So, back here, you continued seeing him?

Off and on.

Regularly, surely.

Gifford had appointments every
Wednesday.

It wouldn't surprise me to learn that he
was seeing someone else.

No.

No, I'd broken it off. I'd been so
stupid.

And I didn't enjoy deceiving my husband.

He's not been well.

Where else did you meet Gifford?

Apart from the Westgate.

Nowhere.

No, there was nowhere.

Yes, all he was offering.

With a few minutes in a parked car in a
multi -story car park.

And I... I took it, just that.

Until I came to my senses.

When was the last time?

Two weeks ago.

The barman said Mrs. Henderson listened
to the archers with him on Wednesday

night. She drank a single malt whiskey.

Last thing, did Gifford ever threaten
you?

No.

No abusive letters or calls?

No, nothing like that, I told you.
Didn't last long.

Oh, uh... Would you mind, Mrs.
Henderson? I'd like a specimen signature

wreckage. Of course.

That, dear? Thank you.

Good night.

Specimen signature, right?

She's left -handed. The killer isn't.

Well, it's in the clear now.

The gibbet was still aligned against the
car park, taking it 12 minutes past

dinner. Yes.

Neat, isn't it?

So what do we do, sir?

Go for the husband or respect their
privacy?

No, leave him out for the moment. I'll
look into the background.

You locked the study door.

I came back from the school run and
you'd gone off with the key. It's been

locked all day.

I've got the endlessly house model in
there. It's fragile. I don't want the

children messing it about. For heaven's
sake, Brian, you might trust me.

The handover. Don't find some of that
gold ink for tomorrow. She's got her

medieval project.

Not now.

What do you mean?

Brian, will you please tell me what's
going on?

Oh, there's a parcel for you as well.

It was behind the door when we came in.
It was too early for the paper.

I'm sorry we woke you up, Mrs Henderson.

Oh, no, please.

I'm glad you're early. George didn't
back yet.

Your neighbours will probably be having
a lie -in too Saturday morning.

Better look. Nobody will notice.

There you go, Sergeant.

Yeah, that's it.

There's no time at all. You're out of
time, Mrs. Henderson.

What?

Lost a green car park. Wednesday, 28th
of September, 6 .49 p .m.

Oh, my God. I don't get things.

I usually just, well, I don't know,
screw them up and lose them.

Okay. Off you go, then, lads. Thanks.

I must keep them hanging around.

Damaging your reputation.

Relieved? I'll bet she is.

It's more than Brian Pierce is going to
be.

Yes, I've got Inspector Grosmith from
Fraud with me now.

Yes, he's been following the invoice
trail, apparently. Very revealing.

No.

No. We haven't got the address of poor
little Janice yet, Liz.

Okay. I'll get someone to check with
directory inquiries.

Bye.

So, Pierce was ripping him off.

How much?

Fifteen, twenty thousand a year for the
last five or six years.

Very tidy rip -off.

He was diverting material Gifford had
paid for and the jobs he had going on

side and then collecting from the clads.

I think Gifford would have twigged and
fucked him.

Maybe he did twig.

Maybe he liked having something over
Pierce, something to bargain with.

Anyway, Bill Grosmith's still working on
it.

He thinks Gifford was on a dodge
himself. His tax position's

Pierce has still got to be our number
one, hasn't he?

Yes, well, it would be a pity not to
check out the Henderson leads that you

brought in.

You say, Doctor.

It's always a pleasure to see Dr.
Russell.

Lifting a fellow consultant's notes
isn't 100 % ethical, Inspector.

The proper channels will take more time
than I think we've got.

So, Henderson reveal.

Extensive liver damage.

Irreversible. Caused by what, Buzz?

Warnings about alcoholism going back to
1984.

Met it earlier this year with a liver
failure.

You won't have long, then?

Six, nine months, maybe.

You'd be too weak to strangle a man like
Gifford, then?

No, not necessarily.

Anything else? Side effects?

Well, he could be impotent.

Good evening.

Ah.

Now his wife would deal with that.

Well, that's all. Thanks. And for coming
in on Saturday.

You're welcome.

I shop near here anyway on Saturdays.

And I lunch at the White Horse.

So, um... I don't know why we should
have agreed to. I mean, why does

Henderson deserve special consideration?

She didn't come clean with us.

You think we should see Henderson?

Yes.

But surely... I mean, shouldn't we see
Pierce first?

Pierce will keep.

We'll go to Whiteham Woods.

I thought, um... Hasn't that job been
automated by now, sir?

Of course, but there's no gadget that
does it this clean.

Is it a duty?

You're employed as a warden, I
understand.

It's not a duty.

It keeps my strength up.

There's been a murder, Mr Henderson, in
the Westgate car park Wednesday night.

You may have read about it.

Mr. Michael Gifford.

He was known to your wife.

Were you aware of that?

No.

We've had reason to ask her to account
for her movements.

Her exercise class Wednesdays.

How did she know him?

Where were you on Wednesday, Mr.
Anderson?

What have my movements got to do with
it? I didn't know.

I need information.

I was here.

You've been living here?

More or less.

Two weeks?

There's a new pair of badgers.

I think. They seem to be, anyway,
establishing themselves in the cocks.

And you, Vixen, too.

I didn't want to leave them.

Aren't they relief wardens?

You don't have to do it all, surely?

I like it here.

You can see my notes.

My log.

Yes, well, I'm sorry, sir, but unless
somebody actually saw you... I mean, you

could have written a log at any time.

It doesn't count as proof.

Proof?

What do you mean?

Suicide.

You didn't keep after all.

I can't imagine what possessed him.

Everything was fine.

Really fine.

I could believe... I even think it could
have been some kind of accident.

I wouldn't go on thinking that if I were
you, Mrs. Pierce.

There'll be an inquest, of course.

You should prepare yourself for some
painful revelations.

Painful? We completed our audit of Mr
Gifford's accounts today.

Oh.

So you'll know.

No.

About Brian.

About... Well, there'll be
discrepancies, I imagine.

There are.

Brian took nothing that wasn't his by
rights.

He did the work of a partner, so he drew
the pay of a partner one way or

another.

And Michael...

Well, you didn't know him. He played
complicated games.

If Mr Gifford had found out... He was in
no position himself to throw stones.

Mutual blackmail, I... It crossed my
mind.

I reject blackmail, actually.

We had contingency plans.

The collection's worth a good deal. The
paintings, if we'd sold, we could have

repaid everything Brian took from the
practice and still have been in profit.

It was a crime, Mrs. Pierce.

Even if it looked like efficient
investment.

Brian is... He was... Efficient.

We were an efficient unit.

Together. A family.

Perfect.

He had the right to an eye for quality.

You do know, of course, there are three
paintings missing.

You know, I can't for the life of me see
why we have to complicate it.

Gifford was on to him, so he killed
Gifford.

We were on to him, so he killed himself.

I mean, if it had gone to court, it
would still have been an awfully bit of

public disgrace for Pierce.

He wouldn't have been able to handle it.
His wife wouldn't either.

If he'd have done it, the efficient Mr
Pierce would have had an alibi.

A proper one.

Just because nobody remembers him at the
ice rink doesn't mean to say he wasn't

there. Doesn't it?

An unlikely -looking ice skater like
Pierce?

No, no.

I want to think, and I want to talk to
Henderson again.

I'll see you later, Lewis.

Do you want me to call Mrs Henderson?
Yes, certainly.

George Henderson here.

Look, this is, um... I've got to talk to
somebody, and, well, um...

You... It's about my wife.

Yeah.

The police have been.

You've got something to do with this
Westgate murder.

I don't know, but I'm really...

I'm scared.

I couldn't tell them, but I know for a
fact that she was in the Westgate car

park Wednesday night.

I saw her drive in there about half past
six.

Look, could you... Could we meet?

Yes, it perhaps set my mind at rest.

No, I can't go home. I'll be here.

Yes, in the office.

Yeah, that suits me.

Bye.

Hello. I thought I might find you here.

I thought you might think you might find
me here.

In fact, I thought you might think I'd
been so blatant that you wouldn't come.

I got held up. The, uh, Pierce suicide.

Oh, God, yes.

Poor Mr. Pierce.

He was being delivered to the mortuary
just as I was leaving.

Is there somewhere a bit quieter?

Yes.

Thank you, Sergeant Lewis.

My husband?

Well, I've...

Naturally, I understand why you told
him, but you do see my situation.

I know, but nothing's going to come of
this.

It could be that a lot of trouble's been
taken for, well, really for nothing.

Yes.

Well, thank Inspector Moore for me, will
you?

Bye.

This is pure food.

As a doctor, I ought to challenge that.

But I suppose better ones are tried.

I don't know about better.

I enjoy talking to you.

Then why don't you do more of it?

I don't know.

Job gets in the way, maybe.

I get in the way.

Maybe I'm the job.

I'm sorry.

Really, I'm sorry. Please excuse me.
I'll call you.

Janet!

Wait!

It was just after I was speaking to you,
Sergeant. It was really strange.

I wish you'd told us more about this,
Mrs. Hammond, at the end of the

So do I, now.

He's got it sorted out, then, eh?

I thought I'd do a blitz on his dry
cleaning.

While he's been on the survey, it's...
Well, it's just been his old clothes.

He comes in and out here when I'm at
work.

Why would he do that?

Why wouldn't he want to see you?

Well, it's awkward hours, and I...

No, it's... It's because of... I didn't
want to say this.

It's because he's drinking.

He's on a... Well, he has these bouts.

He's been all right since he was in
hospital, but I think if he found the

things, which he obviously did, well, it
started him off again.

Wait a minute.

There was a tape, you say, and letters
from Gifford.

Yes.

Horrible.

I was going to give them to the police,
but I couldn't.

I couldn't. It was what Michael said
about me.

I would have done them in the end.

I meant to. That's why I kept them.

They were in this?

Yes, I hid them in the airing cupboard
behind the tiles.

George never goes in there.

Well, he obviously did this time. He
took everything out.

Was this with the boss?

Yes.

How long could he have known about it?

I've no idea.

Well, when did you last check that the
stuff was all in the airing cupboard?

Two weeks, about.

Well, not again since the murder.

No.

No, I didn't want to check.

I didn't want to know.

I was frightened.

I still am frightened.

£25 ,000 in a paper bag?

Well, she'd thrown a bit of it around
the place.

You reckon that's what Pierce would get
for his painting?

Two of them.

Romney Marsh wouldn't fetch anything.

Check out the art dealers, then?

Mrs Pierce will be clawing the money
back in no time.

I think he's been too clever for that.

Huh?

Janice just happened to get an anonymous
gift of £25 ,000 on the day he died.

Even if it's proved to have come from
Pierce.

It means that he wanted her and no one
else to have it.

What about the dead one?

Romney Marsh?

Yes, well, think.

Pierce's tidy little way, even when it
comes to fraud.

He goes out one day to snap up a
charming early -inch -bold landscape

whatever it costs in his pocket.

Okay. He comes home with a landscape.

Right sort of date. Not an inch bold.

But who's to know?

He's the one with the eye.

What's he doing with the money?

He set Janice up with her own little
business so she wouldn't have to be

Gifford's excess baggage anymore.

Flat above the shop where they could go
after the green cafe every Wednesday at

least. They'd like fell for each other
then.

He fell for her.

She kept saying this afternoon he was
very kind.

A knife.

I thought as much.

Poor little Jonathan.

A grief over Gifford's death would have
meant the end for Pierce, on top of

everything else.

Ah, we have a problem.

It should be Charles' play to you, Lois.

gave janet a mouthful on the day he was
killed yes and he had the power to put

pierce in court any time and motives all
over the place but what are we doing

here and why am i shifting this barrier
illegally because it's there lewis

I want to get rid of the dud painting.

Come, come, Lewis. Who'd want to be
caught with a fake in his collection?

His wife would never live it down.

The man had some decency.

This is it.

What?

This is the van, you know, that drove
away from Giffords the night I got

on the head.

I noticed this logo on the side when I
went down.

Hmm.

He'd have got Giffords' address from the
letters.

For both of you?

Or are you just getting careless with
the drink?

One of the rifles is coming in.

He has a terminal illness.

Question, will he disinherit his wife
because of her fling with Gifford?

Who else has he got?

Nobody.

Suppose he put Gifford out of the way.
Wouldn't get much of a sentence.

Might not even live to go through the
trial.

When I look at this... Later.

Good evening, Mrs. Hatton.

Oh, my God, Inspector.

What's happened?

I don't know.

What might have happened?

Well, I've been ringing George ever
since Sergeant Lewis was with me.

The more I thought about it, I feel sure
he's in a bad way.

I've been getting the answering machine
all afternoon.

Could he be out with his fox?

Take a look at his lock.

The entries have tailed off.

Look, I've got a feeling that... Yes,
sir, tell me about your feeling in a

moment, will you? Sergeant Lewis is just
leaving.

We expect to be winding up the Gifford
case very soon.

Thanks, Lewis.

All right, sir. I'll see you later.

You had no trouble with the barrier,
Mrs. Anderson?

What? Oh, no, George showed me ages ago.
There's a button you can press.

Oh, I wish I knew where it got to.

It was very unstable.

Because of the drinking or this illness
you mentioned?

Oh, he's ill because he drinks.

It's all self -inflicted.

He's had warnings, plenty.

Well, drink, it's, um... It... fills
some kind of need.

I have needs, too.

Needs which George can't meet.

Well, if there's nothing else,
Inspector, I'd like to get home before

dark. It's bad enough being in the house
alone.

I needn't detain you any longer.

Can I give you a lift somewhere?

Thank you. I'll just hang on here for a
while.

And you'll let me know if there's
anything about George?

Of course.

I can't officially organise the search
till the morning.

Oh, look, his wallet.

It's typical. The door's open. Anybody
could come in.

I'd better... Oh, and his car keys. I
don't want him driving.

Good night.

Good night.

Search point terminated at 9 .45 a .m.,
sir.

Nothing further discovered.

Body thought to be that of George
Henderson.

Age around 48.

Forestry.

Preliminary path report says cause of
death, query, suicide.

Query?

Dr. Russell doesn't wish to commit
herself at this stage, sir.

And who can blame her?

Sir?

Let me know any other developments. I'm
at the West Gate.

I blew it again, didn't I?

Oh, I shouldn't think you did anything
of the kind.

Have you got the ticket?

I waited an hour for it to come back out
of her house last night before it

struck me that she wasn't going to.

Whatever she... Well, I reckon there
must have been the phone call or

at the library.

The ticket looks... Oh, yeah.

What time does it say?

9 .30.

Mine says 9 .55.

Now, get back in the car.

Put the ticket on the dashboard.

Now, suppose I wanted to strangle you,
Lewis.

I remove the car park ticket and the
keys, lock the

doors and disappear.

Now, I could give the ticket and the
keys to someone else.

Someone else?

Who could come here to the Westgate, get
a ticket with a later time stamp, like

mine, put it in your car and then leave,
paying the fee on the earlier parking

ticket.

And poor old P .C. Plod would think
you'd be murdered after 9 .55.

So Gifford was dead by maybe quarter to
seven, not still alive at 12

minutes past, like we thought.

That's right.

Just think of all those careful alibis,
the woman that rang Gifford in the

afternoon to tell him to come early.

Come on.

Sergeant Lewis.

This will be your daughter, is it? Oh,
yes. This is Lisa.

This is Chief Inspector Morse.

Turning out for the farm, eh?

You know, it's a little excursion for
us, supporting the Cotswold team.

Edward works ever so hard with them.

Is there... There's no trouble?

Edward, yes.

Marley.

Remember the jogger in Whitam Woods last
night?

Marley. We'd do a few sandwiches, Lisa
and me.

Still them out on race days.

Are you on duty?

Many supporters from the office here.

A few?

Not Mrs. Henderson, of course.

Hardly. His dad was drawn with Edward.

Yes, he said.

Oh,

what's this, Inspector?

A few more inquiries, sir.

Oh, if you don't like the sound of sir,
please don't get polite. You know

there's trouble.

The fact is, Mr. Manley, we're having to
revise our estimate of when Michael

Gifford was murdered.

Oh. Everything goes back half an hour.

To the vague part of your timetable, the
part before the opera with Mrs. Morris

and her daughter.

6 .25 -ish.

I was leaving my house then to drive to
the theatre.

Anyone see you?

Don't know. I nipped out for a loaf of
bread at some point.

Yes.

4 .45, it says in your statement.

But that gives us two hours in which
anything could have happened.

She's a beautiful woman, isn't she?

Rosemary?

I've seen her in too many unbeautiful
situations, I'm afraid.

Gifford thought so.

Wanted to possess her.

Her husband couldn't bear to let her go.

Copy, Inspector.

Shortly.

Henderson's is the alibi that's really,
uh, well...

Nowhere, which is why we have to be
absolutely certain about everyone

Yes, I'm sure. I understand.

So I'd like to know what the hell you
were doing in Whiteham Woods last night.

Sorry? You were identified by two
independent witnesses.

Navy track suit with a hood, green
stripe, running, weren't you, sir?

Oh, sorry. I was at the rugby club last
night, coughing till all hours with the

lad. From what time?

So the game in the afternoon stayed on.

Nice car, Mr Manley.

Yes.

Not as nice as yours, though.

Got the keys?

Of course. I drove here this morning.

Show me.

Amy. Amy, keys, please.

Affairs. You got a spare set?

Not in everyone.

Let's go to your house and get them.

No need. I have them here, as a matter
of fact.

Melting moments, anyone?

Homemade?

Try my car, son.

What? Over here.

Last call for coffee.

Anyone else? There's a little left.

Yes, please. Okay. There you are.

Right in the heat of the moment, you
left your keys in George Pendleton's

office.

You found out when you jogged back to
your car, but you'd seen us arriving, so

you jogged straight on home. Or rather,
you stopped and rang your accomplice on

the way.

Accomplice? Who came and retrieved them.

You reek in himself.

They won't make me identify him, will
they?

I'm a sucker for a hard luck story.

They'll tell you.

Henderson phoned me. He said he thought
Rosemary... He knew Rosemary was

involved in Gifford's murder and what
I'd talked to him about.

It sounded crazy.

Well, I was going on a practice run, so
I could just as easily take the white

horse road as any other.

So I said I'd meet him at his office.

Well, nothing.

He was raving.

I left immediately.

Look, you want a merger, you've no need
to look further than George.

Who's dead, by the way.

Suicide, apparently.

Well, it may not have been suicide.

Might have been that someone had a fight
with him in the office.

Drew a bit of blood, dragged him into
the woods, and flew half his face away.

No, no, no, no.

I didn't. I didn't.

Anyone will tell you I'm not like that.

It was an accident.

He had a set -to in his office, sure. I
brought him down. It wasn't difficult,

his condition.

He must have got back at the window or
something because I'd left and he came

roaring after me and we had another and
it was grappling and a

bloody gun went off.

Mrs Henderson took my spare keys instead
of yours.

I switched them while she was checking
her husband's log.

You pick them up later at the Summertown
Public Library.

Thank you, Mr. Manley.

Mrs. Henderson and Manley, eh?

Overacting. The animosity between them.

The perfect alibi.

All the time they're... I don't know.

Passion. Makes a right old mess, doesn't
it?

food today.

It's all over, isn't it, love?

We got it wrong.

You got it wrong in interlock with
Gifford.

But I want you to know it was still the
best thing that ever happened to me.

The best thing.

You do realize, Inspector, don't you,
that this man has made my life a misery.

He had his knife into me.

The staff at the office will bear me
out. There's no secret.

I'll be talking to you, Mrs. Henderson,
when I'm ready.

I've got no time for this sort of music,
have you?

I've got more time for Wagner.

Didn't run many quick steps, as I
recall.

You owe me a dance.

I can dance to anything.

Really?

You should try dancing to the back end
of Lohengrin sometime.

No.

No.

Let's have something from Parsifal,
since we're going to a performance.

Look, um... No, we're, uh... We're not.

I'm sorry, uh... Oh.

Where did you get those?

I wish I could say from a grateful
patient like any decent healer.

How? By phoning the box office night and
day to ask about returns.

By diverting my technician from a highly
complex analysis of stomach content to

going to collect them.

By then I... You are amazing.

You shall have your wish.

I don't believe this.

Why, what have you found?

My locket.