All language subtitles for Inspector.Morse.S11.1998.Special.The.Wench.Is.Dead.DVDRip.AC3.x264

Thank you.

Often the drop didn't work right, and
the hangman had to yank on the feet of

condemned in order to get a result.

When was the last one, Dr. Lambeau? The
last public execution in Oxford was in

1863. The condemned man was... Noah
Austin.

Killed his girlfriend's father.

Right.

But the most famous public execution was
in 1860 when they hanged the Oxford

Canal murderers. There were special
trains from London and 10 ,000 people

outside Oxford Jail.

It's more than they get for Oxford
United.

The Oxford Canal murder.

The victim was a respectable married
woman named Joanna Frank, who was

travelling from Coventry to London to
join her husband via the Oxford Canal

aboard this Pickford flyboat, the
Barbara Bray.

Early on one morning in June 1859, it
passed Prince's Lock, near here.

Minutes later, her body was found in the
water. A police investigation followed.

Remember, by now, the detective force
had been founded and their skills were

legendary. Charles Dickens loved to go
crime hunting with the detective force

Scotland Yard.

The prosecution proved that Joanna
Franks had been assaulted and killed by

boat's crew, who were tried at Oxford
Assize. And in 1860, two of them,

Oldfield and Musson, Dwan, on the public
gallery.

No, thank you, Robert.

Are you quite all right?

Ah, how distinguished, Speaker.

Very erudite, Dr. Van Boren.

Well, thank you.

I hardly put my forebears to the test.

Yes, I agree.

But if somebody were trying the case
today, they'd come to the same

It wasn't open in that case.

There's no such thing, Dr. Van Boren.
They didn't have our forensic science in

those days, did they? Victorian
detectives may not have had computers in

science, but they knew a great deal
about human nature.

Meaning we don't? No, Morse. Oh, you're
Morse. I wanted to talk to you.

Did you, uh... Excuse me, Dr. Van Boren.

Was there something I said?

I doubt it.

Pardon me, Doctor.

Oh,

Lord.

Lord.

Oh, my God.

Right.

Right, Mr. North.

Right.

Come along, Mr.

Marshall.

You're very ill. I hope you realize
that. And I need you fast, I believe.

What is wrong with her?

I can't tell you yet. The consultant
will do a full examination in the

Now, off you go, Mr Morse.

Libby's in love.

You drink a lot, Mr. Horse?

More.

Not much.

I like a glass of beer.

And how many of those a week?

A week?

Make it easier, then. How many a day?

Two or three. Spirits?

Sometimes treat myself to a bottle of
scotch. And how long does it last?

Depends how big the bottle is.

In this job, there are two statistics we
always discount. The sexual prowess of

people with diabetes and the booze
intake of the middle classes. However,

can't discount what's going on in your
abdomen.

You said liver.

That too, if you don't reduce the booze.

You've really overdone it, haven't you?

Have I? What's the matter with me,
Doctor?

At best, you've got a peptic ulcer
that's decided to burst out bleeding. At

worst, you've got a cancerous ulcer that
needs some serious surgery.

We had a quick look last night, but now
I need to do a more thorough endoscopy

and take a biopsy. Nurse.

See

your

coffee, Mr Greenaway?

Gin and vomit, please.

Ice and lemon? No ice.

It foils the gin.

Doctor, I had that.

Now they're cutting me up on Friday.

You know the relative? He told us he
didn't have any.

Actually, I'm a doctor.

Oh.

Right, you know then.

Hi there.

Well, you certainly went to a lot of
trouble to avoid our conference.

Feeling better?

Dr. Van Boren. No, I'm not.

I thought I'd come and visit you. I said
I was a doctor.

You are.

Why did you think you'd come and see me?

I brought you a book.

I thought if you were going to be in
here a while, you might need a little

reading matter.

Criminal Detection in the Victorian
Period by Millicent Van Boren.

You are kind.

The Oxford Canal murder.

Ah, the open and shut case.

Read that and learn that it was.

And are you flying home now?

Oh, no, not yet. I'm on a Fulbright. I'm
writing my next book.

The Institute of Criminology has some
really great archives here.

That's because Oxford has too many
scholars and not enough policemen.

Right.

Which is why I was curious to meet you.

Excuse me.

Who is that with Mr. Moore?

She says she's his doctor.

No, she isn't.

Are you a friend of his?

Hi. Millie Van Buren.

Boston University.

He promised he'd check out my research.

Isn't he sweet?

Isn't he just?

Why on earth didn't you let me know?

I'd have come right away, you know that.

You were still in Carlisle. How's your
mother?

Much better, thanks.

I go away for a month and you do this.

So, how are you?

It's a case of mistaken identity.

Sure, looks like it.

What are they doing to you?

I'm down for an internal examination, an
endoscopy.

And then they decide whether to carve me
up.

I'm sorry, Morse.

You must be worried sick.

I am.

But they are looking after you properly,
are they?

Yes. There's a beautiful black nurse
called Fiona.

I saw her. The doctor's a dream.

Monster's got a sister called Nessie. I
met her.

If you come from a round -lock mess,
isn't it?

Bottom of it, I should think.

You know what this means, don't you?

I've no doubt they're already planning
to replace me.

Don't be ridiculous.

I've seen it coming.

But you're their best detective.

I was.

Look at me now.

Come on, Ward.

Oh, if it's what they're made.

I need his buttocks.

I'm sorry.

Injection, if you'd be so kind.

Right.

And I've got two of them now.

Lewis, he's on his inspector's course.

And now Morse is in hospital.

And we've a big drugs bust in Cowley.
Sorry, sir.

Constable, don't go away.

I'm shorthanded to start with.

Now, Morse's illness has left me
completely...

The wrong person?

The wrong... No, I... I've got quite
enough probateness.

What I need is some experience,
Detective Constable Conlon.

Oh, I see.

Well, if you could... Hello?

Oh, really.

Tershaw, you do not interrupt me when
I'm talking to the Chief Constable.

Just trying to be useful, sir. Then be
useful. I want a bunch of grapes.

And a paperback novel.

Of course, sir.

Grapes. Would that be green or purple?

Oh, green.

No, no, purple.

Half a pound? A pound?

Oh, use your initiative, man.

You're the fast -track graduate.

Early on the morning of June 22nd, 1859,
the body of a young woman was found in

Prince's Cut, a basin on the Coventry to
Oxford Canal.

As the boatman Philip Tomes

would say in evidence later, he had
moored his narrowboat up Canal from

when he noticed something in the water,
a woman's blue gown.

Hey, mister!

Get down here!

Right, what?

Are you dead?

Now, sir, you're an intelligent man. I'm
sure you can assist me.

I've got this long tube here.

I need you to swallow.

Why? So I can look in your stomach and
take the biopsy.

If you can cooperate, I won't need to
use sedation. And if I can't? You'll

all the fun and won't remember a thing.

How long is this going to last?

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes?

I think what's the date, you know?

The drawers were all torn, Doctor. This
weren't an accident.

And severe discolouration to the face.

Did you men see what happened?

She was floating in the water in the
Prince's cut.

She came out like that, her face all
black?

Yes, sir.

And none of you knows who she is?

No, sir.

Did you see anyone in the cut?

A Pickford flyboat went by, the Barbara
Bray, and there was a gentleman, a big

gentleman, walking on the bank.

Constable, if I were you, I should
telegraph the Oxford police and have

detain that boat.

What's this, Thomas?

Who's captain here?

Me, Rory Oldfield.

How many crew?

Three and a boy. Two ships. We run night
and day. Well, get the rest of them out

of there.

What a devilish thing.

Come on, you two. Off the boat.

Rory. Have you lost a passenger?

Off her head she was. She's gone and
fallen off. It's up to her. Where is she

now? Jumped up the filbert rock, didn't
she? In the water?

No, it's the chopper.

Constable, a lady's trunk in here. Ropes
cut.

And her shoes.

You'd better moor up properly, Mr.
Oldfield.

Because I'm going to put the four of you
in the derbies and take you down to

Oxford Jail. What for?

The woman's dead, as you well know.

This is a murder matter now.

Wasn't so bad, was it?

Just swallowing that tubing?

That's not what you need to worry about.

It's what they'll find with the biopsy.

Fit enough for a visitor, Mr Morse?

I think so.

Now, Morse.

We have

regulations

in this hospital.

We want Mr Morse to get better, don't
we?

Yes, sister.

We can't do that if you bring in the
wrong things, can we? No.

And don't stay long.

Good God, she's a bit sharp, isn't she?

What else did you bring?

Well, a single malt.

I don't suppose there's anything in
here? I won't touch it until... Oh,

and a little light reading.

B .C. Kershaw chose it.

He's a university man like you.

His eager hands move down over her
scanty knickers.

Thank you, sir.

Look, Mort, it's time you and I had a
serious talk.

I've seen this coming for some time.
Seeing what coming?

The truth is... What is it? It's the
drinking.

I've tried to warn you. You mean you
want me out?

You're ill, man.

Look, you're going to have to have a
medical after this.

So, why not take an early retirement?

Who says I'm not going to get better?

Well, I don't know why you want to stay.
It's all changing.

There's a new generation waiting to take
over. Why not let them get on with it?

You mean Lewis?

Let's have no sour grapes over Lewis.

You wouldn't want to stand in his way,
would you?

Go with dignity.

You're the best detective in all Thames
Valley. Why not quit while you're ahead?

It's my life. I have given it
everything. You know I'd get them to

you. Pension, benefits.

I am not taking early retirement.

I want that to be quite clear, sir.

You may have to, Morse.

Oldfield, Alfred Musson, sometimes known
as Brotherton, Walter Towne, sometimes

known as Thorold. You are severally
charged that on or about the 22nd of

1859, you did willfully murder Mrs.
Joanna Franks. How do you plead?

Not guilty, my lord. Not guilty. Not
guilty, sir.

Mr. Sergeant Williams, you appear for
the Queen. Approach me, please.

One boy, my lord, excluded by reason of
age.

And there were further charges of theft
and rape?

Withdrawn, to speed the course of
justice, my lord. Very well, Mr

proceed with your opening.

Time enough, Mr Morton.

Yes,

I'm still milled by mouth.

Thank you.

So, how do you feel?

The consultant should have the results
of the biopsy today.

Yeah.

I'm solving a murder.

Well, it looks like someone's beaten you
to it.

In 1859.

Adele, could you find out what the rail
fare from Coventry to London was in

1859? Oh, I would... Bath at the
Bodleian. No.

No, probably the National Railway Museum
would be a better bet.

You really are serious about this,
aren't you?

Because I'm having to lie here doesn't
mean I've lost my capacity to think. I

know, I know.

But why?

I mean, it was, what, 140 years ago?

Indeed, and two men were publicly
executed as a consequence.

Morse, you are ill, possibly seriously.

I'm preparing my senior students for a
recital.

I'm trying to look after you.

and care for a sick, aging mother who
lives over 200 miles away, and now

demanding that I join you in rewriting
history.

I am beginning to suspect that a gross
miscarriage of justice occurred in this

city in 1860, and I am determined to
discover if this was the case.

The men in the dock, common boatmen,
whose names are not their own.

whom the Christian religion has hardly
touched, are charged with murdering a

young woman, Joanna Franks, a good and
respectable woman, twice married

and unfortunate.

All right!

Cardinal Field?

Yes, mister?

Passenger, have you room to take one?
How far?

All the way.

London.

What?

Oh,

looks like it. Huh? You're question?

I mean, you could have waited, couldn't
you?

What a fine tune.

Well, I had to strike while the iron was
hot, when nature had brought it home to

him.

He told you, then?

He rang me as soon as you left.

He was very distressed, as you might
expect.

So you two are... Ah.

Morse always did fancy clever women.

If you're asking if we're living
together, no, we're not.

But we're very good friends, and I
greatly care what he's feeling.

He's worried sick.

Can't you see that?

Angel of death fluttered its wings over
his head, you mean?

I didn't know you were so poetic, Chief
Superintendent.

I'm not. That's what my mother used to
say.

Look, he's ill now, and there's only two
more years before he has to go.

And it's a new world out there, you
know.

New police practice.

It's all crime prevention initiatives,
computer detection, restorative justice.

What does that mean?

Offenders and victims talking to each
other.

Some Californians thought of it, I
expect.

Anyway, I shan't be there much longer
myself.

I can't stand it, frankly.

And Norwell Morse.

And I can get him the best. Golden
handshake, medical pensions. You just

expect him to see it like that.

He's given his life to his work.

Can't you make him face it?

Not if he doesn't want to.

His body's only telling him what his
brain knows already.

Look, we both want him to go graciously.
Yes, of course, but does he have to?

Look, I'll try.

Would you help him solve what looks like
his last case?

What? The Oxford Canal murder.

The Oxford Canal murder?

That was 150 years ago.

Yes, I know.

But he's determined to investigate it,
and he needs help.

Professional help.

Look, it's out of the question.

And two men down as it is.

I see.

Well, I'll tell him what you said about
going graciously.

You like reading, do you?

Sorry? I said you like reading, do you?

And listening to music.

Not this music.

When's that consultant coming with those
results?

When the tests are ready.

And how are we today?

Not good.

But this is.

Very good.

Very good, but?

But you simply accepted the verdict of
the Victorian court because she was a

poor, respectable woman and they were
the lowest of the low. They were.

They were drunk when they were arrested.

Doesn't that worry you?

If you just drowned a woman, would you
just go on knocking back the grog? I

wouldn't. They might.

The evidence was all on the boat. Her
trunk had been opened. Her shoes were

there. She would never have left the
boat without them.

But if you'd done it, wouldn't you want
to hide the traces, get rid of the

shoes? But her clothes were torn.

They were charged with theft and rape.

Why were those charges dropped before
the trial?

Because if you can hang them for murder,
you don't have to bother to jail them

for rape and theft.

Unless the charges wouldn't stick.

From Coventry, 36 -hour mum. One night
on board.

Can I see her?

If you're willing to run the deck.

Her first husband was a vaudevillian,

a music hall entertainer.

The great Donovan.

emperor of all illusionists. She
assisted him on the boards until, alas,

in Ireland.

Her husband left her destitute.

She then married Charles Franks, a good
but poor man who left Coventry to work

in London as an ostler that his new wife
might not starve.

When he had saved one sovereign, he sent
it to his wife that she might join him.

She looked for the cheapest means of
transport.

Not the railway train, not the stage.

No, alas.

She chose that boat on what would be her
final

journey.

Good day.

I thought you might like to hear the
results of your biopsy.

Thank you.

Well?

I'm afraid there's not a lot we can do.

What? There's no need for the knife at
all. I shan't have the pleasure of

carving away half your insides.

Well, thank heavens for that.

You are seriously ill.

Severe peptic ulcer.

Non -cancerous, but undoubtedly worsened
by drink.

Prognosis? Not bad.

But only if you change your modus
vivendi.

Change what exactly?

All this beer and spirits you guzzle.
Letter that. Not just for now. I mean

years ahead.

Well, at least I have years ahead.

You thought you didn't?

Good. Might make you listen.

Now, you're going to need plenty of
drugs, plenty of rest, and I'm sending

dietician to advise you on a managed
diet.

Turnip juice.

Have you had a drop yet?

Of turnip juice?

Tissue paper's always the giveaway.

I know it's God's gift, but leave it
alone for now.

Certainly while Sister McLean's on duty.

You confiscate it? No, I'll drink it
with you.

I think we can dispense with this for
now.

When can I go back to work?

Don't even think about it for the
moment.

The first thing we have to do is to get
you out of here.

Someone to take care of, yeah?

I gather good news.

Ah, Miss Thistle.

Is he?

Oh, that's excellent, isn't it?

Tell him how pleased I am.

How's he feeling now?

Much better, but he's not out of the
woods yet.

He'll have to take it easy for several
months.

Yes, that's right.

A very delicate thing, the stomach.

You know that conversation we had?

I wondered if you discussed it with him.

Oh, I was wondering whether you'd
thought again about what I said to you.

No, he hasn't forgotten at all.

He's going to be off sick for a while,
and this Oxford Canal case, it's become

very important to him.

Tell him I can't possibly. We don't have
anyone to spare.

Yes, yes, I know.

The room's over, sir.

Hang on a minute.

Kershaw?

Yes? Ah, looking for a Mr Morse. Are
you?

Except I don't know him.

Try the one with his nose in the book.

Kershaw? Yes, sir.

And your graduate entry?

Yes, sir.

That's why I make such a good cup of
tea.

You're not enjoying the police work.

Well, I'm supposed to be fast -track.
Instead, I seem to be the chief

superintendent's tea boy.

Anyway, you said you had a case you're
working on.

I heard of the Oxford Canal murder.

No, sir.

Recent, is it?

It was 140 years ago.

So, not much we can do about it now, is
there, sir?

Isn't there?

You do believe in truth and justice,
don't you?

I suppose two men had been hanged for a
murder they didn't commit.

Sounds quite likely.

Wasn't it still Bow Street Runners,
then?

It might help, Kershaw, if you knew more
of the history of your own profession.

The Met started in 1829.

By 1846, Scotland Yard had its own
detective bureau.

There was a detective force in Oxford.

Not much good, as far as I can tell.

What would you like me to do about it,
sir?

For a start, you can find out what a
train ticket from Coventry to London

in 1859.

Right.

Is that first, second or third?

Single return, regular or excursion? All
of them.

I will be done, sir.

And the fare by stagecoach and the fare
by canal.

Yes, sir.

How long are you going to be in
hospital?

And then you can find out why the Oxford
bargemen had such bad reputations.

That's because they had to work seven
days a week, meaning they couldn't

Sunday service, meaning they were
considered as heathens beyond the pale.

And they weren't called bargemen. They
were boatmen.

I'll go to the Bodleian, see what I can
find out.

Mr Stephens, you're a canal clerk
employed at Tooley's Yard at Bambury.

Tell the jury what happened on June the
21st.

Sir?

The Barbara Bray docked with a woman
passenger.

Did she not come to your shed to make a
complaint?

She asked about the times of the coaches
from London to Banbury.

Don't you mean Banbury to London?

That's what she said.

Yet did she not ask about other ways to
London?

Why was that?

She talked about rude ways and
drunkenness within the crew.

Is it common among that class of men?

I know the boatman to sometimes broach
the cargo and become a deal inflamed.

It's called corkage, sir.

And yet you did nothing?

I offered.

I said I'd help her with lodgings for
the night.

She refused.

And the boatman?

You didn't even rebuke them?

She looked like a lady who could fend
for herself.

I saw her going back to the flyboat
looking quite content.

If you had done your job, she might have
saved herself.

That is all.

You told the jury Mrs. Franks returned
to the boat after making the complaint,

but you thought quite willingly.

I felt that.

That's why I didn't report.

When the boat departed, she was laughing
and drinking with the crew.

I'm very sorry, sir.

Feeling better now you're eating, Mr
Morse?

Much.

Now, you tell me why a respectable woman
who has just complained of being

harassed by men would go off drinking
with them.

You'd be surprised.

It's called human nature.

Now, don't keep on reading all night,
will you? It disturbs everyone.

Hannah MacNeill, hot woman at the Barge
Inn.

Yes, my lord.

I'm not your lord.

He is your lord.

You undressed the body, I believe.

Tell us what you saw.

Well, sir, she was much disarrayed.

Bailiff. Show the dress in evidence.

Is that the self -same dress the lady
was wearing?

It is, sir. And the tear on the sleeve,
just like that.

The second exhibit, Bailiff?

Yes. Those word drawers.

Ripped right open.

I knew then that she'd been attacked in
an improper way.

You mean raped?

Mr. Sergeant Williams.

That is not a charge here, is it? No, my
lord.

Then do not answer, Mrs. McNeil.

Gentlemen, please understand that this
is a trial of murder only.

Continue. What can you tell the court of
her shoes?

That she won't wear any.

No.

Because they were found later, were they
not?

In the passenger cabin of the Barbara
Bray.

Too far again, sir. Too far.

Woman, haven't I taken enough?

Now, Mr. Morse, we're not going to be
difficult, are we?

I'm sorry, Dr. Van Buren.

The Jackson's Oxford Journal, 1859, is
out already. The young gentleman over

there. Thank you.

You were travelling up Canal through
Prince's Cut and saw the Barbara Bray?

Yeah, but not clear.

Sounds as if the crew were quarrelling
like.

Walter! Walter, get up there!

Thomas!

Thomas!

What happened there?

There's an outcome.

Was you with her? Was you having her?

No, I was just looking for my... Don't
you touch anything in there!

A few moments later, you saw something
in the water.

A dead lady in a blue dress.

How did she appear to you?

Her face was black and discoloured.

Quiet here.

Mr. Sergeant Williams, we have proceeded
so far without evidence of the

identification of the victim.

I shall be attending to it most
carefully, my lord.

Did you see anyone besides the boatman
that morning?

Mr Ward, who helped me take her from the
water.

Anyone else?

A man on the bank, walking.

Can you identify him at all?

No, sir.

A dirty man, but it was a thick mist.

Do we know who this man was, Mr Lyons?
No, my lord, he hasn't been traced.

Excuse me.

Um, I know it's a highly un -British
thing to do, but I couldn't help

that we're working on the same thing.
Are we?

Yeah, the book you were using? I'm
Millicent Van Buren.

Ah, yes. That's very good.

Um, you're a research student?

A policeman.

It's evil, really.

The man on the riverbank, Valentin.

Why was he never found?

There was an appeal in the newspapers,
but I suppose it was pretty impossible

trace a passing stranger in Victorian
England.

At the remand proceedings, four men were
held. Why do you think they only

charged three?

The boat boy was only 15, and I suppose
they needed his evidence to convict the

other three.

Remember, in those days, a prisoner
couldn't testify in his own defense, nor

could he be cross -examined.

So the...

Boys' testimony was crucial.

Don't tell me you're beginning to think
they didn't do it. If they didn't, then

who could have?

No one else was ever suspected.

Morse is working on instinct.

He is wasting your time. You do know
that, don't you?

Thomas Wooden of Rugby, 15 years of age.

Yes, sir.

You know you must be honest.

Yes, sir. I'll be in trouble.

Now, tell the court what you remember of
the behaviour of the boatman on that

journey on the Barbara Bray. That there
was lewdness, was there not?

I'll see.

She did go in the cabin with Mr
Oldfield.

I could hear them.

What could you hear?

I heard a man and woman.

Did she protest at all?

I don't know, sir.

Very well.

Tell us what happened on June the 22nd
in the early hours at Filbert Lock.

Where were Musson and Towne?

I sleep in the crew cabin, I think, sir.
You think, sir, but you don't know,

sir?

I heard Towne snoring.

Musson was infected in that trunk.

In the lady's trunk?

The lady's trunk.

He thought there were money in it. At
least 50 sovereign, he said.

Did you ever see any of this money?

She was a poor lady.

Never thought there were any.

Where was Mr.

Oldfield?

Stern, sir.

He did go to the passenger cabin.

With Mrs.

Franks? Yes, sir.

Tom, this is Gilbert Locke.

Hi, Mum. I'll have to get off. Call a
nature. Don't worry, I'll catch up.

She got off.

Was she wearing her shoes?

Yes, sir. Did she get on again?

Must have, sir.

I didn't see. Captain ordered me to go
below and sleep.

And did you ever see Mrs. Franks again?

No, sir.

Never again.

Do you know how her shoes returned to
the boat?

Must have come back, sir.

Well, did Captain Oldfield return to her
cabin?

Don't know any of that, sir. Went fast
asleep.

Whatever happened next, whatever was
done next, was known only to those three

prisoners in the dock.

Yes, sir.

And you can't tell us what happened to
Mrs Frank.

No, sir.

Did anyone say what had happened to her?

Captain Oldfield says she got off.

I mustn't reckon she jumped in.

In the canal, you mean.

What do you think happened?

The court is not concerned with what the
witnesses think, Sergeant Williams.

She drowned, sir.

Didn't she?

She did indeed.

Thank you, Thomas.

Thomas, you wouldn't lie to go free,
would you?

I should try not to.

What kind of a woman was Mrs Frank?

A pretty woman, wouldn't you say, sir?

Yes, sir.

Sometimes she was happy, sometimes she
was fat.

Sometimes she was kind.

Sometimes she seemed crazy.

Not in a normal state of mind, you mean?

Don't know.

You said you went to sleep and never saw
her again.

But in earlier testimony, you said she
went ashore and you saw the others go

looking for her.

Now you say you know nothing of what
happened because you were asleep.

Well, I must have been wrong before.

You must have been wrong afore.

Well, how do we know you're right now?

I am right now. You're lying, aren't
you?

No, sir. What about?

Did you go into the passenger cabin?

No, sir, I didn't. Did you look for
money in that trunk?

No, sir, I never thought there were any.

You wouldn't tell lies to save your
skin?

No, I wouldn't, sir.

Wouldn't you?

Kershaw, what are you doing here? Yes,
sorry about the lateness of the answer.

No, no, I'm glad to see you. It's just
that I've been to the Bodleian and I

found out... The evidence of the boy,
Thomas, I'm sure there's something

Sister! Sister!

He told the court what he was instructed
to tell them, I'm sure of it.

But by whom?

Nurse, call the crash team now.

Right.

Hello? Crash team.

Third floor.

with Nelson Ward.

Emergency cardiac arrest.

I think I've got to go. Charging. 200.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Charging.

And clear.

And again. 200.

And clear.

Up to 360.

It makes one... Yes.

Yes, it does.

I'll draw this.

Well, thanks,

Fiona. I hope I haven't been a trouble.

You have, but never mind.

Remember to take your tablets.

I will. Come along, boy.

Ah.

Aye. Good luck.

Thank you, too, Sister McLaren.

You have your medication, so you take it
regularly, or you'll be back here in

days. Same goes for the diet sheet.

Rest essential.

Don't try returning to work.

And back in a week, see Mr Benfield.

Yes. Oh, and you nearly forgot this.

Ah.

Keep it, sister, to remember me. Oh, no.
Far too tempting.

And this.

Now we know what you like to read.

Look after him, Mrs. Morse.

Isn't that just more confusion around
you?

The wife, you mean? Mm -hmm.

Not of my making.

You didn't tell them that I'd be able to
look after you, did you? No, I can

manage. I don't expect you to.

No, I... It's only I have to get back to
my mother in Carlisle for a few more

days. No, no, no.

I understand.

Good morning, sir.

Morning. Ah, you must be Miss Cecil. Can
I help?

And you must be Mr. Kirshner.

Could you push him for me? Of course.

You must be glad to be getting out of
here, sir.

Must I?

I think it frets the saints in heaven to
see how many desolate creatures on the

earth have learned the simple dues of
fellowship and social comfort in a

hospital.

Who said that?

No idea, Morse.

But have you learned the simple dues of
fellowship?

I hope so.

Do you know, Kershaw?

Elizabeth Barrett Brown.

You take it as a warning, Morse. None of
us are immortals.

Remember, the graveyard's full of
indefensible men.

Nice of you to be so concerned, sir.

What's this?

It's details of the pension you'd be
entitled to. You'd be pretty well off.

And you have a good life insurance,
don't you? I don't intend to retire yet.

Well, the police surgeon may decide
otherwise.

Physical fitness never had much to do
with being a good detective. You will at

least admit I'm a good detective.

Yes, you are, but you can't go on
forever.

None of us can.

Think of all the things you never had
time to do.

Like what?

Crosswords.

Reading. All this.

All this what?

This music you're always playing. What
is it?

Well, it varies, but this is Mozart's
clarinet concerto. Well, there you are,

you see.

What do you make of him?

Kershaw?

Too clever by half.

He's been very good getting me settled.

I'd like to keep him for a few days
while I can't do legwork.

All right, just a few more days.

But you're going to ruin the lad
involving him in all this ancient

You are Mr Charles Franks, Osler of
Edgware Road, London.

I am, sir.

The court appreciates your unhappy
state, Mr Franks.

But in the interest of justice, recount
as best you can the fate of the woman

you married.

Yes, sir.

My wife, Joanna, remained behind in
Coventry.

when I went for work in London.

After a few months, I saved a sovereign
and sent her to join me.

She wrote me to say she was coming by
canal.

Ten days passed and she hadn't arrived.

I set out to look for her.

When I reached Oxford, I read in the
newspaper of a local inquest.

We will await you, Mr Franks. Take your
time.

I went to the mortuary, only to have my
very worst fears confirmed.

The woman who lay there, cold and
disfigured, was my wife, Joanna.

You are sure, Mr. Brax. The court must
be clear on this point. You did say

disfigured. Oh, I was sure.

It was Joanna.

There was a birthmark on her, just
behind her right ear.

A mark?

Only a husband would know, my lord.

Then you were shown shoes.

The shoes found in the floor cabin of
the Barbara Bray.

Yes, sir.

I knew them at once.

They were hers.

Her favourite shoes.

What's in it?

Eggs, sir.

I think that's why it's called an
omelette.

Omelette just means a thin plate,
Kershaw.

It's the same word as amulet. Yes, sir.

All these courses you take, has anyone
ever told you the first principle of

detection? No, sir. Only how to do the
divisional planning report.

The basis of detection, Kershaw, is to
keep asking why.

Why did she go by boat?

I don't know.

In 1859...

Ten trains a day ran from Oxford to
London from competing railway companies.

Of so many, they'd nearly driven the
canals out of business.

A free market, then, so pairs were
cheap.

Sixteen shillings single from Oxford to
London.

For a poor woman, that was a fortune.

If you rode first class of the gentry.

Yes, Kershaw.

What about third?

Six shillings.

From Coventry, it would have been about
two shillings more.

And how much was the flyboat?

Four shillings.

So for four shillings, she could have
saved her life.

And been in London in a day.

Doesn't make much sense, does it? I
suppose not.

And why did she drink with the bargeman?

Boatman.

And why get off at Filbert Lock?

Probably to get her loose, sir.

But the trial didn't establish when she
got back on again, did it?

And then why were the trunk robes cut?

And why were her shoes left in the
cabin?

This is very good, Colonel. Thank you,
sir.

You could have put more cayenne in
there.

And why was her face black and
disfigured?

I wondered about that.

The indictment said she'd been choked
and drowned.

Well, they didn't have forensic
pathologists then, did they?

So what was the medical evidence?

There was the report from the local
doctor who examined Dr Willis, and later

mortuary doctor.

Where are they?

Check the medical archives.

Accredited research student?

Accredited policeman.

So what do you want?

I'm told you keep evidence here from
Victorian trials in Oxford.

Wasn't it moved here from St Aldate?

Yes. Now it's a research archive.

What about medical records?

Those are in the medical records
library.

And evidence and trials in 1860?

Over there, where it says a size 1860.

I have to go back upstairs.

If you need me, just call.

Constable Harrington, you told my legal
friend you went to Iftley Lock to seize

the Barbara Bray.

What exactly did you find there?

Lady's trunk, sir.

In the passenger four cabins, its ropes
were cut. Well, that might suggest

theft. Yet you charged the men with
murder.

They were the lady's shoes, sir. A lady
would hardly leave the boat without

putting her shoes on. If she decided to
leave the boat suddenly, or decided to

drown herself.

Mr Lyons, surely the medical evidence
has clearly shown that her death could

be suicide.

But I submit it does not amount to a
proof that these men committed her

my lord.

The men in the dock are illiterate men,
irreligious men, lewd men who drank to

excess and drank cargoes they were meant
to guard.

But they have not confessed to murder,
nor is it proven.

No witness was found, no firm evidence
given to fix their part in this crime.

You heard the testimony of the young
man, Woodman.

You heard he saw nothing of the poor
woman's final moments.

Now, counsel says you must consider the
shoes in the forecabin.

But if these men were guilty, would they
not dispose of them?

No, Mrs. Franks died that morning.

But we know no more than that she went
ashore, where others may well have

committed the crime.

What's her name?

Victorian Panties.

Mind if I borrow it?

It's not your sign.

For Chief Inspector Morse.

You heard of him?

I sure have.

But I didn't know he liked me.

Oh, he does now.

And all the rest of this.

You'll have to sign for it all.

Oh, it looks like the trunk in the case.

Except the initials are wrong.

Hers with J .F.

Maybe she was married before.

That's it.

Joanna Donovan was Joanna Frank's.

Married to F .T. Donovan, the great
magician.

That's why it says F .T .D.

You're a marvel, Miss O.

Do you think so?

Your Lordship, we ask permission to
retire and consider our verdict.

Indeed, but I must instruct you on some
last points to consider. It is true that

the accused have not made a confession.

It is also true that we have no witness
to this evil murder.

Although the evidence of the boy Wooten
is proof enough that there was much

drunken lewdness.

You may ask yourselves why these men, if
guilty, did not dispose of the murdered

woman's shoes, those she left in the
forecabin.

However, you may conclude that they were
so befuddled with drink as to ignore

such a natural instinct of self
-preservation.

You may also consider that if these men
are not guilty of this heinous crime,

well, who else on or near the flyboat
Barbara Bray?

may have had both motive and means of
carrying it out.

Gentlemen, you may arise.

Guilty.

Very well.

Rory Oldfield, Alfred Musson, Walter
Townes, you have heard the verdict.

Have you anything to say?

My lord, I declare we are all innocent
of that crime.

Mr. Towns, I think that last night you
asked to speak to the prison chaplain.

I confess to him that all Christian
things happened on that boat that never

should have improper things.

Resulting in murder?

No, sir, not that. Not to my knowledge.

Yes, prisoners of the bar, you have
heard the verdict.

My duty is to pass sentence.

No, no, it's fine.

They let you out of Gulag. I'm
delighted.

I gather you're putting a team on the
case.

I met your Mr. Kershaw.

Interesting lad, isn't he?

I was wondering if I could offer you a
meal.

No, no, not in a restaurant.

No, I have to stick to a very strict
diet. But if you'd care to come to my

place... Of course, I'll bring a bottle.

Oh, sorry, I forgot. No.

No, it's quite okay.

I'll suffer beside you.

About 7 .30.

Right.

Yes, I've finished your book. At any
rate, the section on the canal murder.

Well, good. I hope I convinced you.

I think the choir was a travesty.

And three men were sentenced to death by
public hanging for a crime they almost

certainly didn't commit.

Do you mind if we... Go ahead. Tear my
thesis to pieces.

A woman is murdered.

Four boatmen are arrested. Only three
are charged. Why?

In the absence of witnesses, they need
the boys' evidence to convict the

Yes. Here's a trial that was just a
foregone conclusion.

A prosecution case riddled with
contradictions.

A defense counsel who only went through
the motions.

An offered jury prejudice against
boatmen.

No proof at all of how the crime was
committed.

And I think something else was wrong.

Why drop the charges of theft and rape?

Because they were minor charges compared
to the murder charge.

Because it would have given the defense
a chance to look into Joanna Frank's

sexual behavior.

You know what I think?

I think you're just working on your
instinct.

Maybe your sexual instinct.

What? Sorry, Morse. If you're going to
convince me... You're going to have to

really convince me.

Very well.

Four men are arrested.

Three are sentenced.

Only two are hanged.

Why was Walter Towns reprieved?

That was very dramatic. He'd gotten very
religious in prison. He learned how to

read the Bible, got baptized.

Then, when they were being let out for
execution... Yea, though I walk through

the valley of the shadow of death...

confession, they all protest their
innocence.

Mr. Towns commended his dole to the law.

Bring Mr. Towns to me.

What to Towns?

In consideration of your recent
religious behavior and reformation of a

way of life, the State Secretary, on my
own advice, has seen fit to grant you a

reprieve. What do you mean, sir? Your
sentence is commuted to transportation

life. What about the others, sir?

I must suffer the fate that is their
due.

We're all innocent, sir. You know we
were wrong, Walter. It's been a long

ain't got your back.

You ain't got your back.

Nice wheel,

sir.

It isn't wheels, Kershaw. It's a car.

Come on.

I just meant I like the car.

It's a terrific piece of retro.

Terrific piece of retro? What does that
mean?

Well, postmodern nostalgia.

I suppose you think my interest in this
case is another piece of postmodern

nostalgia. No, sir.

I'm enjoying it. Really?

What are they made of?

Calico, wouldn't you say?

Homemade, probably, by a competent
seamstress.

Does that help?

So, the tear?

What tear?

Not the faintest sign of an irregular
dissension of the fibre tissue.

You mean this.

Not a tear, a cut.

A clean, straightforward vertical cut.

You mean with a knife?

Yes. Like this.

What for, do you think?

Well, you're more experienced in the
wicked ways of the world than I am, but

say to secure access, gain entrance, get
inside.

Rape.

Not sure. With rape, you'd expect a
tear.

Maybe somebody wanted it to look like
rape. Don't know.

And the dress?

Cotton, domestically made.

Hem's been lengthened.

Bust, remodelled and extended.

All restitched with needle and thread.

Sounds unusual.

Not in Victorian times.

Dresses were usually handed on, weren't
they?

Especially in poor families.

It's water -stained, of course.

Tell me, Morse, are we making proper use
of police time?

Yes, in my view, it's important.

The shoes?

Yes. Shoes? No shoe size, of course, but
they didn't hurt them then, did they?

Local cobbler, I should think.

They could do with a repair, but I don't
do those.

Being very economical, Morse, you
usually deliver me a body or three.

Not this time.

She drowned in the Oxford Canal in 1859.

Only the medical evidence said her face
was blackened and bruised.

Isn't that more like suffocation?

Yes. Sounds as though they lacked a good
forensic pathologist.

Do you want to leave these with me and
I'll do some tests?

Please, Dr. Hobson. And if you find
anything, I'm still on sick leave, so if

could call me at home.

You want a second opinion?

Why not get up on the table now?

No, thank you.

It always pays to return to the crime
scene, Kershaw.

Never did like an elf.

Or she made for bodies.

In early Victorian times, they were the
lifeblood of the nation. The motorways

of the age.

Except they were too slow.

They weren't slow.

They were measured.

Things moved at a more natural speed.

Half the traffic from the Midlands to
London came through here.

Cargo boats, coal boats, salt boats.

Fast -fly boats with passengers and
cargo.

And 140 years ago, the Barbara Bray came
through in the morning mist.

And then another boatman found a body in
the water.

Where, do you reckon?

Somewhere here.

What happened?

She was suffocated on the boat and
frothed into the water.

Well, wouldn't somebody have seen?

Fisherman Ward said he heard a splash
and a mist. He couldn't see anything.

There was another witness on the bank.

Who was he?

Donald Favant.

What? According to the newspaper
inquiries, the police thought he was

Donald Favant, a man who booked into the
bear at Woodstock.

I read it in Jaxadot's journal.

You could have said, Kershaw.

Maybe she was killed on the bank.

The boys said she got off and walked.
Maybe she never got back on again.

Someone on the bank killed her. But who?

If we put her on the bank, it could have
been anyone.

Shoes, Kershaw.

They were found in her cabin, and the
court said that proved she got back on

board. Yes, sir.

Think about the cut in those knickers.

Why, sir?

It's the key to this case, isn't it?

Who was Joanna Franks?

What? What kind of woman was she?

What were her relations with those men?

Court didn't go into that.

Exactly.

Where's the barge in?

Where?

The place they carried the body.

I presume it's still there, and I
presume it still serves beer.

How about it, Cashaw?

This case is all based on surmising
prejudice.

Boatmen were drunk, thieves and rapists.

Ergo, they must have done it.

Sounds like the spirit of Victoria and
Oxford, sir.

Oxford was seriously evangelical,
remember?

What? That was a regular war of town and
camp.

Religious students versus the heathen
boatmen of Upper Fisher Row. They fought

all the time.

After this trial, the university used
the verdict to evangelise the boatmen.

The law was changed to give them Sundays
off.

They even built a chapel for them on
Hythbridge Street.

It's still there?

I think it's a double -glazing
establishment.

It's right opposite the Oxford jail
where they hang the men. Just by the

Canal Basin, where the flyboat stopped.

They only filled that in a few years
ago.

Is that a double -glazing establishment,
too?

More or less.

It's called Nuffield College.

And how do you know all this?

I got my degree in Oxford before I
became a tea boy.

First in history, Keeble College.

Would you like another, sir?

Yes.

Yes, I think I will, Kershaw.

And that makes a difference, does it?

Isn't Oxford a first?

You always were a phenomenal man.

Leekie no longer thinks I'm wasting my
time.

You really are going to have to place it
here.

What? You have to retire in two years'
time.

Why are you putting up such a fight now?

This trunk belonged to Joanna Franks,
the woman who was murdered.

And her initials were FTD?

She'd been married before.

A musical magician, F .T. Donovan.

Pass me that paper, my dear.

valuable historical evidence.

No. I think it's magic.

The

great

Donovan. Emperor of all the
illusionists.

And his lovely assistant, Joanna.

See a headless...

Chicken mysteriously restored to life.

There's not much here, is there? No
money.

Well, it could have been stolen. There
was always a suspicion of theft.

Well, maybe the police removed it. Well,
she must have had other things, too.

The things women carry. You know,
handkerchiefs, perfume bottles.

Unless she had a handbag of some kind.

A carton bag.

What?

It was never mentioned again.

Where did it go?

All right?

Yes, Mr. Dunst.

Passenger, up your room. Take one.

How far?

All the way.

One, Dunst.

You brought my pants back.

I'm keeping them.

Vital evidence in a murder case.

They said you had something for me.

I went to the medical records library.

Is this what you want?

Medical report on Mrs Joanna Franks. Ray
Victoria Regina versus Jay Oldfield and

others. Woman is around 35 years.

Lean, but quite well nourished.

Five foot three and one quarter inches
in height.

Preliminary findings suggest death by
drowning, but face congested,

and black.

No other serious injury, except
disfiguring bruise on mouth, right side.

Body in full clothes, but without bonnet
or shoes.

Draws torn, but no obvious evidence of
sexual dealing.

It's these, Morse. Can you tell me any
more about the woman who was wearing

them?

Didn't you say she was travelling by
canal boat from Coventry? Long journey,

wasn't it?

A night and a day to Oxford.

In that case, she'd have to get off now
and then, wouldn't she? Caused of nature

and all that.

She did.

The boat boys said she walked along the
bank quite a way.

Not in these shoes.

They're light indoor shoes.

Not what you'd wear on a canal journey.

And there's no evidence at all of
outdoor wear.

How tall was she?

According to the doctor's report, she
was...

Five foot three and a quarter inches.

Any idea of the average height of a
woman in the mid -19th century?

Smaller than now.

A lack of protein in the diet.

Bit smaller?

Not smaller?

Don't know.

Find you the height of Jack the Ripper's
victim.

That was what, 1880s? They were all
measured.

What were they?

Four foot nine.

Four foot eleven.

That sort of height.

Except one, see?

The one they called Long Liz because she
was so tall.

And she was five foot three.

Well?

This dress.

It was made bigger.

To fit a woman of at least that height.

And look at the size of the shoes.

Yes, they're very small.

Nobody mentioned it.

Safe, congested, discoloured and black.

A suffocation, Morse.

So how was she identified?

My husband, ten days later.

After further severe deterioration?

Yes.

He had to identify her by a birthmark
behind her ear.

Interesting woman, your Joanna Franks.
She was tall, but she had small feet.

She drowned, but she was suffocated.

She was raped, but there was no sign of
sexual activity.

She was robbed.

that nothing was taken.

You're looking much better.

I feel it, Dr. Van Boren.

So, where are we going?

Summertime. Hmm, sounds lovely.

Why?

So you found out something new?

I believe I have.

It's here somewhere.

Ah, yes.

Here it is.

To the memory of Joanna Franks, wife of
Charles Franks. Who, having been

primitively assaulted, was most
tragically drowned in Oxford Canal, June

1859.

So, um, she's buried somewhere around
here.

Not exactly, miss.

I'm sorry.

Well, the memorial was moved, you see.
This isn't the original Victorian

graveyard.

Do you know where the original grave
was, then?

Doesn't the church have a record?

I doubt it. Is it important?

I suppose an exhumation was required.

Well, then you'd have a real job. You'd
have to pull all them down.

The church sold the main graveyard for
building several years ago and moved the

headstones over here.

Oh, dear.

I suppose it will all have to remain a
surmise.

You know, you really lost me this time,
Morris.

Just a minute.

Kershaw, that Undertaker's record,
doesn't it say something about our

Society? The Coventry Mutual Providence
Society and Burial Club.

Of course.

That's what this is about. She took out
life insurance.

Will you try and find out, Kershaw?

Sounds pretty difficult, sir.

Well, trace the record. You're an
historian, aren't you?

Morse, just what has to remain a
surmise?

Oh, that a tall woman who wasn't Joanna
Frank was buried in her grave.

Hello, is that the Hong Kong Macau Bank?

Yeah, this is Thames Valley Police.

We're making criminal inquiries, and I
want to trace a life insurance policy.

It's with the Coventry Mutual Providence
Society.

Yeah, long before your takeover three
years ago.

Thank you.

Morris, you're not still trying to get
me to tear up my book?

I'm just asking you to consider another
possibility.

And that was why you wanted to dig up
poor Joanna?

But was she really poor Joanna?

She was murdered, for goodness sake.

Are you sure of that?

What is the linchpin of a criminal trial
and conviction?

Correct identification of the victim.

So? Everyone in court assumed that the
victim was Joanna Franks, but how was

identified? By her husband, the ostler.
And no one else?

No father, mother, brother, friend?

Well, she didn't have any, not that
we're available anyway.

And none of the boatmen, not even
Thomas.

Right, but there was Charles Franks. Who
came up from London over a week later.

He looked at a corpse in an Oxford
morgue.

The face was black and disfigured.

The body had deteriorated.

There was a birthmark that only a lover
or a husband could know.

There was, wasn't there?

Joan of Franks. Died 22nd of June, 1859.

Paid in £8 .10.

Beneficiary, Charles Franks. Yes, he
paid in full £300.

February 1861.

Ah, what now, Kershaw?

Checking your peps and tethers?

Ah, no, sir.

This just can't go on much longer,
Kershaw.

Mr. Kershaw.

Hello, Susan.

And it's Adrian.

Why don't we... Why don't we have a
drink later, if you're still here?

Yes, I can be.

Right. What really did happen in the
Oxford Canal murder?

You bring me your book in hospital. I
read. I get interested.

Before I've read ten pages, I can see
that things just don't hang together.

Thanks. With the investigation.

I worry about the men arrested. I worry
about the victim.

A sample of you?

Because nothing they've said about her
in court makes sense.

Come on, Morrison.

What's your point?

Her clothes suggest that she's tall, but
her shoes are small.

Her garments are tampered with.

But where?

And by whom?

The boatman.

Sure?

Let's start at the real beginning.

When she got on the flyboat at Coventry
with her father -in -law.

Thank you, Alma.

Yet for eight shillings, she could have
gone by train and been with her husband

in a day.

Why take the flyboat?

She was poor and was cheaper.

Not much.

The railways were trying to drive the
flyboats out of business.

And then, according to the evidence in
court, she went aboard with a trunk and

carpet bag.

We've seen the trunk.

But we never heard another word about
the carpetbag. It was never mentioned

again in court.

Why?

We're told she objected to the lewd,
drunken behavior of the crew, but she

drinking with them herself.

And Tan says she was leading them all
on.

Even the boy.

In Banbury, she complained to the clerk.

But what really happened?

The crew of that flyboat, they're
drunken and lewd.

Well, I'll speak to them, Mum.

Tell me, how long do coats take from
London?

There's no more coaching till tomorrow.

I could find you some cheap lodgings for
the night here in Banbury.

I'll wait in Oxford.

She had every chance to get off, but she
didn't.

Why not?

Because there was never a problem.

She was the one leading the boatman on.

It was an illusion.

The stage was being set.

And Joanna the mastermind.

For what?

Tell Dr. Van Boren about the insurance.

For eight pounds, Joanna had taken out a
life insurance policy with the Coventry

Mutual Providence Society worth 300
pounds.

For her, ten years' wages.

She'd got the boatman besotted with her.

Especially Thomas, because she needed
him for what happened next.

No. What you think happened next.

Night fell.

They were getting near Oxford.

Remember Peg?

What did happen in Filbert Lock?

Not what Thomas said in court, I'm sure.

Is this Philbert Lock?

Aye, Mum.

Now, remember what we said. You won't
tell anyone where I've gone.

No, I won't, Mum.

I'll give you what you want. Just pick
me up again at A -Lock.

I'll do it for sure.

That you were down?

No, I mean, she's in the cart.

You brought the dress and drawers?

You said she was told to lengthen the M
and I flicked the drawers.

But was she?

Better you never know.

It's a dreadful thing.

We stand now, my dear.

We can't go back now.

But I don't want to see.

No need to see.

Right up front with me.

She's just some unhappy nobody.

We're here. Hey, look.

You'll get back on all right? Oh, yeah,
they'll do anything for me.

There's Prince's cut. You know what
happened there?

Yes. Stay under as long as you need.

Don't let a soul see you climb out. The
cart will be near the bridge.

Get in and lie down.

I'll be along as soon as I finish.

Now get down.

Time I drove on.

It is too suffering you item You

must

have given him money to keep his mouth
shut And I think the police found it and

thought he'd stolen it from us Why
didn't they charge him they needed his

testimony in court

I heard someone in the water.

Walter! Walter, get up here!

Thomas!

Thomas!

What happened there?

I don't know, Captain.

Was you with her? Was you having her?

No, I was just looking for her. I didn't
touch anything in there.

Where is she? I don't know.

Damn and blast that horrid woman.

She's crazy up her head.

Look for her.

Yeah.

And all Franks had to do was turn up in
Oxford ten days later and identify the

unknown corpse.

You are sure, Mr Franks, the court must
be clear on this point. You did say

disfigured. Oh, I was sure.

It was Joanna.

There was a birthmark on her, just
behind her right ear.

A mark only a husband would know, my
lord.

And the case against the boatman was
complete.

So who was buried in the grave in
Summertown?

We'll never know now.

And who was Charles Franks?

The man who collected the insurance a
year later and was never seen again.

Neither was Joanna Franks.

I suppose they went away together.

Maybe America.

Who knows?

You should write novels, Morse.

You can't prove a single word, can you?
Most of it.

The prosecution case never held up.

The woman in the grave isn't Joanna
Franks, and the rest is just the most

logical view of all the evidence.

The best way through the maze.

Exactly.

I'll have another, Kershaw.

Make it a full pint this time.

I'm sorry I couldn't convince you.

Well, nice try and all that, but I'm not
going to tear up my book.

Well, what about a revised edition?

Well, I still think I was right.

And I think I was right.

Oh, Morse.

It was just a puzzle that you found a
way to solve. A creative fiction.

Admit it.

You know how Charles Dickens defined a
good detective? As a conjurer.

I brought you a present.

Criminal detection in the Edwardian
period by Millicent Van Buren.

Fine.

Thank you.

A little light reading matter.

Goodbye, Morse.

returning to the States.

Good.

Know anything about cricket?

What's the clue?

Bradman. Famous duck. Six letters.

Forget cricket. Think Disney.

Who's the wolf?

Who's the fetter?

Quixote.

Evenater. What was his wife's name?

Don. Oh.

Donald, the famous duck.

I'm sorry.

Don Favent F .T.

Donovan.

Emperor of all the illusionists. The
greatest man in all the world. The

Boy Bay wonder.

Where is Bertner Boy Bay?

West of Ireland.

I understand perfectly.

You've come to Ireland for a spot of
holiday gravedigging.

Some holiday, Mark.

I'm not sure how to go through the right
channels. I need to get permission for

an exhumation. Ah, nobody's going to be
bothered about a body that was put away

150 years ago. But it is always proper
to provide a little whiskey at the

graveside.

It's thirsty business, the working of
the soil.

You'll find a pub over there and I'll
walk with you myself.

Mr. Moore, will you open it then?

I'd rather you.

Ah, come on, Leon, give us a hand.

I must say, for a long -ground man, he's
wonderfully preserved.

But wonderfully. Will you take a look?

I'd rather not.

Why, whatever's the matter?

He wasn't dead at all?

Not here at Bird and the Boy Bay.

Why did they fake a burial then?

So that they could collect on the
insurance.

And they didn't just play the trick
once, they did it twice.

You mean, he married the same man twice?

Yes.

F .T. Donovan.

Otherwise, Donald Favant.

Otherwise... Charles Franks.

He was a conjurer.

He was an impersonator.

He was a swindler.

He was a callous murderer.

A cheerful witness.

He was Joanna Franks' first husband and
her second.

He was a ghost from the grave.

He was...

The greatest man in all the world.

Welcome, please!

A great citizen of the world and
Ireland! A man!

I can't see any reason for keeping you
on work a moment longer.

Sorry.

I'm thinking about a retirement.

Is that wise?

Retirement doesn't always suit busy men.

They never know how to stop.

Wish you'd told me that a few weeks ago.

Don't think it would have made any
difference.

So, it's the end, is it?

I think so.

To make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.

Exactly.

Goodbye, Mr. Morse.