Original subtitles

Only, I'm not allowed my own chequebook.

In case my head explodes and falls off (!)

Quite right.

Do you let your wife have her own chequebook?

I know it's all the fashion, but money, seems to me, a man's job.

There we are, darling.

If there's anything you want, just shout.

At the Department, you say?

Poor girl.

But how? I don't understand.

Was there some sort of accident, or...?

A fall, sir, but hopefully, with your help,

we'll be able to get to the bottom of it.

When did you last see Dr Benford?

Saturday, it would have been.

Half-past five or thereabouts.

She'd been over at Ruskin in the morning for this women's conference,

and then came in for a few hours after lunch.

Was there anyone with her when you left?

Not that I saw.

But I wouldn't expect anyone to be in the lab much after that.

She said she had some work to finish.

Did she ever mention a young woman killed on the towpath at New Year?

Molly Andrews.

She was a barmaid at The Grapes.

I read about it, of course.

Awful thing. But I...

I don't remember Naomi ever mentioning it.

Really?

Only, she intimated that there were some professional protocol

that she were obliged to follow, before being able to discuss it.

I'm afraid I'm at a loss to explain what she might have meant by that.

We have it that you quarrelled with her on Saturday afternoon.

Well, I wouldn't call it a quarrel. We had a frank exchange of views.

You upset her, supposedly.

Really? Well, I'm afraid it doesn't take much.

They don't respond well to criticism.

What was the nature of this criticism?

I felt she had become less than rigorous in her work.

Her mind was on this television business.

You disapproved?

One can either be a serious academic or a frivolous person.

On the whole, I think women are too emotional for the life scientific.

That will come as grave news to Madam Curie, I'm sure.

Hm, well...

I'm not sure I'd offer up someone

who managed to give themselves radiation poisoning

as a shining example.

They just get under your feet in the lab.

If they're not crying about who they do love,

they're crying about who doesn't love them.

It's a distraction.

There's a don like that in every other common room in Oxford.

His experience of the other half of humankind

starts with matron and doesn't get much further.

Women are only good for ironing their shirts

and making sure the cruet's filled at the high table.

Anything in it, do you think? This, er, sixth sense business.

I've always had it down for a load of old baloney.

I mean, if you had the gift of second sight, or whatever it is,

you'd be down the bookies, wouldn't you,

not trying to see what Mr Brezhnev's got in his briefcase.

Yes, but we all get feelings don't we?

Like what you had about Carl Sturgis,

- only we call them hunches. - That's experience, though, isn't it?

It's not something from the great beyond.

- Mrs Blish. - Hm.

It's always the ones you like.

I read your piece. What do you make of her?

Clever, beautiful, funny.

Excited about the television.

- Whoever hired her knew what they were doing. - How so?

Well, they could have hired some dusty old don,

no-one would have turned a hair,

but put an intelligent young woman on screen...

Was she attached?

She said not.

Was it an accident?

Well, that's what I'm here to find out.

She did ask me, off the record,

if I'd heard anything about the towpath at New Year.

The barmaid at The Grapes.

Such as?

Oh, anything the police might've been keeping from the public.

- Seemed a strange thing to ask. - Hm.

Did she say what her interest would be?

Behalf of a friend, she said.

You think that's connected?

Oh, really, I couldn't say.

And any avoidance of speculation in print ahead of a formal statement

would be greatly appreciated.

It'll cost you.

Oh, it always does. But, thank you.

Just make sure you get the bastard.

She was all right.

Where's all this come from?

The handbag. Pen was under her body.

A few bits and pieces had fallen out,

lipstick, a compact, address book.

- Anything else? - Afraid not.

Hmm...

According to the diary at her flat,

Dr Benford was supposed to meet a Jennifer Tate

on Saturday at eight o'clock.

A friend?

Well, if she was, she wasn't a close one.

There's no address for her in the book.

Doctor Benford had also asked Dorothea Frazil,

if there was anything she'd heard of

that we'd kept back from the public about the towpath killing.

She had clippings related to the case upon her desk.

And in her appointment book, next to Jennifer Tate,

she'd written, "Regarding MA."

Molly Andrews?

Well, that would be my guess.

I was in the neighbourhood.

If it's a bad time?

No. No, no. Um, come in, come in.

It's the second on the left.

I don't get many visitors.

I like what you've done with the place.

You might want to let that breathe.

Well, I'm afraid I've a very limited cellar.

But, erm, I've a reasonable bottle of everyday wants finishing

while we wait.

Perfect.

Oh, my God!

You have the Calloway '54 Traviata from La Scala.

I've never heard it.

Very few have.

It's a test pressing.

They were trying out some new recording system.

Can I hear it?

Well, you can have it.

You are joking, I can have it?

Do you know how rare it is?

No, I haven't listened to it for years.

I'd sooner it went to a good home. Cheers!

So, to what do I owe the, er...?

I'm having a few people around to my place at the weekend.

A few drinks. I haven't seen you.

Oh, yes, I've just been busy. With work.

What devilish conundrum currently occupies the mind

of the great detective?

Murder in pursuit of robbery.

What makes you say that?

Her necklace.

That's what he took.

That's what made those marks on her neck.

The chain, as he tore it away.

We were occupied... during the war.

There was a girl.

Young girl, daughter of one of our staff.

14? 15?

She wore a St Christopher.

One of the soldiers, erm...

Playing in the woods, I found her body.

The marks on her neck were like this.

I'm sorry, I have never told anyone that story before.

I, erm...

I had forgotten it until I saw that.

Can't... I can't imagine.

No. You know, I think that's why I'm drawn...

to the beautiful things in life.

Well... Excuse me.

Oh, sorry, matey, I didn't realise you had company.

Erm, this is my colleague,

Detective Sergeant Strange.

- This is my friend Ludo. - Ludo. Strange.

Jim.

Ooh, see you've got the record out, then?

Can't go wrong.

So, how'd you know our Morse, then?

Oh, we were up at Oxford at the same time.

Oh, were you? I've been up in Oxford with him the last five years.

Well, up and down.

Cowley for the most part.

Castle Gate now.

Do you mind if I borrowed him for a minute? It's er... It's work.

Excuse us.

Well, I've got a work address for this Tate girl

that Doctor Benford was due to see, Friday night.

Thought you'd wanna know.

- In case it was important. - Mm.

Well, that was all.

I won't stop if you've got company.

Don't worry about seeing me out. I know the way.

It's nice to meet you.

Anything from the TV people?

Nothing that won't keep.

Look, I didn't like to say anything in front of your mate,

but we've talked about this.

You can't be bringing work home.

Not evidence, you can't.

Orderly running of the office is my responsibility now.

Anything goes missing, it's my neck.

Just think on.

Have a good night.

It's about Dr Benford, Miss Tate.

I thought it must be.

How's that?

Well, Naomi said it'd be passed to the police months ago.

Right after it happened.

What would?

What I told her.

About the girl on the towpath at New Year.

What did you tell her?

What I saw.

The man who did it.

You saw who killed Molly Andrews?

You were on the Towpath that night?

No. Not exactly.

What do you mean? You said you saw who did it?

Yes, I did, like...

...in my head.

It was a vision.

Well, we're very grateful for your assistance, miss.

You don't believe me.

We're the police, we need evidence.

Physical evidence.

He took her necklace, didn't he?

- We're not at liberty... - Yes.

Why? What else did you see?

Did you see his face?

No.

But I felt him.

This... anger.

This hatred.

Something evil.

And the taste, I could...

...taste it in my mouth, on my tongue.

Taste what?

Blood.

Blood?

That's what she said, sir.

There was no blood.

Not at the scene.

Certainly, none from Molly Andrews.

Is it possible, do you think?

This girl could literally have seen

what passed on the towpath that night?

Well, I'm not one for the macabre, sir.

The way she described it all...

Maybe you'd have had to have been there, but she did seem sincere,

if you're at all susceptible to that way of thinking.

Susceptible or not, she knew about the necklace.

It's that which caused the marks to Molly Andrews's neck.

The killer tore it from her.

A keepsake, perhaps?

And what of this television programme

that Doctor Benford was involved with, anything there?

I spoke to the producer, sir.

A chap called Ray Douglas.

Quite flamboyant, as is often the way with these people,

but in his words Doctor Benford was a natural.

She had a...

Yeah, here we are.

"She had a very easy rapport with the camera

"and the camera loved her.

"I think we knew as soon as we saw her

"that we'd found our presenter for the Higher Maths module."

Did they interview many people for the post?

Audition.

Hundreds, apparently.

Anyone with a half decent science degree in Oxford put in for it,

including one or two from her own department.

I just went along to see what it was all about.

Didn't expect to get very far with it at all.

I wasn't disappointed.

I think I knew at once that I wasn't the sort of thing

they were looking for. That none of us were.

How's that?

Sex, isn't it? That's what it's all about nowadays.

That's what sells. Sex appeal.

I mean, why bother hiring a fella who knows what he's talking about

when you can put a pair of knockers on screen?

For an academic programme?

For anything, my boy.

From soap suds to Japanese cars.

You see it at the motor show, at the boat show, in the papers now.

I mean, it's not us blokes they've got sprawled all over everything,

showing the world what we've got, is it?

I think that's a bit unnecessary.

I won't have you talking smut about her.

- We were friends. - Ha, friends!

Jeremy had a soft spot for her, didn't you, eh?

Well soft-ish (!)

Asked her out the week she started, didn't you?

But she turned him down flat. Shame (!)

You never mentioned.

I asked her out once, for a drink.

She said no.

She was under no obligation anyway.

I wasn't her type, clearly. That's all there was to it.

Not her type? You didn't have anything to offer her.

That's why you weren't her type.

No leg up, no leg over.

You wanna wake up, man.

It's not a battle of the sexes, it's war, mate.

And they've got the bazookas.

How's your poor little pea-shooter gonna compete with that?

I'll tell you, it's not.

Sam.

What is it?

We're proceeding upon the assumption that, what?

The towpath killing and the murder of Dr Benford

are the work of the same hand?

Potentially, sir. But in truth, there's very little to go on.

Her colleagues at work?

Only one of them has a solid alibi, sir.

Professor Blish.

At home with his wife.

He denied Dr Benford had mentioned the towpath killing to him.

If he'd lie about that...

Well we've only really got Jenny Tate's word to go on, sir.

You said Kreitsek had interviewed for this television post

and had been turned down?

Something in that? Professional jealousy.

Hmm. Ferman seemed rather bitter about it.

Put her getting the job down to her natural advantages.

And Professor Blish?

What was his position with regard

to Dr Benford's part in these educational programmes?

Far as we could make out, sir,

he's none too keen on having women in his department at all.

Only had her there on sufferance.

Word just through from Birmingham, sir.

Petrovski, the bargee who passed through Braunston Junction

in the early hours of January 1st.

Collapsed on his boat yesterday afternoon near Gas Street Basin.

Apparently, he died of alcohol poisoning.

Sister says he'd never hurt a fly, but just couldn't resist a drink.

Yeah, the place is full of empties.

Look, I got a bone to pick with you.

Oh, yeah?

I didn't think much to you hanging the old man out to dry.

I've read the case files.

The first 48 hours of the Molly Andrews' investigation

were slipshod at best.

Slipshod?

Yeah, all right, shabby, then, if you'd sooner.

Poor record keeping. Statements misfiled.

In short, it was a catalogue of errors from start to finish.

We were short-handed, with the New Year.

You know Ainsley's rubbish on exhibits.

If you hadn't been on leave...

Yeah, well, if people had done their job in the first place,

then perhaps Naomi Benford might still be alive.

Anyway, Molly's boyfriend,

Carl Sturgis?

I don't think so.

Is it hers?

So, you took her to the folk club in November?

She kept the tickets.

I really liked her.

All right, she was my kind of girl.

What kind's that, then? Easy?

See, you're just like the tools I work with.

She wasn't easy or a pushover or any of the other names you'd call her.

Then, why didn't you tell us about your relationship with her?

You've heard them rib me at work over taking Naomi out.

If they'd found out I was seeing a barmaid

that would've been the end of me.

How would they have known?

She was a test subject, wasn't she? At the lab.

No latent potential for ESP, whatsoever.

Well, a complete brick.

Don kept her on as a control group.

They thought it was funny, Don and Ferman.

They thought they'd have some sport with a thick barmaid.

Mind you, she was making 30-bob every visit,

so who had the last laugh there (?)

You were ashamed of her?

No.

I was willing to take her on.

Only you didn't.

Yeah, she was still with Carl.

Then why didn't she just drop him?

She was frightened to.

She was afraid of him.

And with good reason.

I mean, he got her in the end, didn't he?

That what you think?

Don't you?

I didn't tell you, did I?

The television people have been in touch.

Which television people?

About these lecture programmes.

With what happened to Dr Benford,

they want me to talk to them about stepping in to her role.

Is that something you want?

To be a... Oh, what do you call them,

a television personality?

No. Not really.

I can't think of anything worse.

But they've asked and you never know.

Might be good for the department.

This Dr Benford that the police were here about.

Is there any news?

No.

No.

She must have been pretty.

How's that?

You never mention the pretty ones.

What nonsense you do talk.

I'm plain.

It must be very dull for you.

Now, you're just fishing for compliments.

If I've not mentioned her, it's because I barely notice her.

You know, they are a general nuisance in the laboratory,

but beyond that, they are invisible to me.

Dessert?

Prunes.

Oh, splendid.

And cold custard.

Tip-top.

That Miss Tate telephoned.

She's had another one of her turns, and wanted to talk to somebody.

I'll give her a call.

I don't know if it's connected,

but this was handed over from nights.

Woman reported a fella exposing himself to on the towpath.

Not 200 yards from where Molly Andrews' body was found.

She says she heard someone whistling just before he jumped out at her.

I've got identikit coming in,

see if we can't get a description off her.

His face, obviously, not the, er...

Last turkey in the shop?

Hanging about the bushes half the night in all weathers

on the off-chance of a passer-by to wave your doings at.

What do they get out of it?

That's what I can never fathom.

Great relief to us all, Sergeant, I'm sure (!)

You think that's what's happened at New Year? He goes out flashing,

and something's gone wrong between him and Molly Andrews.

I don't think it's about a man exposing himself on the towpath.

I think it's about a college type

writing his telephone number on flashcards for a barmaid.

Did Dr Benford ever mention her private life?

Not really.

What about a Dr Kreitsek, did she ever mention him?

It was here, wasn't it?

Where she died. The girl from New Year.

When did you start having these,

what would you call them, intuitions?

Erm, when I was a little girl.

It was just little things.

Family things to start with.

My aunt had a car accident,

and I knew about it before she'd told my mum.

Right.

Sorry, I don't wanna go down there.

The man from here,

could he have anything to do with what happened to Dr Benford?

I don't know.

Look, it's like...

being a radio that's left on,

that's tuning through the frequencies,

trying to find a station.

I can't always make sense of what I see until later.

Like with you.

Me?

Why, what about me?

There's a woman...

...in a green dress.

And there's just, er... a sadness.

Does that mean anything to you?

Jenny Tate confided to Dr Benford about this vision

or whatever it was, and she, in turn, notified you.

I'm curious as to why you didn't bring this information

to the police?

I really didn't think it was my place.

We only had Miss Tate's word to go on.

This vision did not take place

under laboratory controlled conditions.

We'd no way to know if it was genuine.

Or she was just doing it for attention.

She could have just picked up on something she read in the papers.

You know we're not in the vision business. Not like that.

Our experiments suggest that paranormal phenomena,

present in far less dramatic a fashion than she described.

You're not treating her claims with any degree of seriousness, are you?

There are certain details of the crime

known only to ourselves and the perpetrator.

Miss Tate's insight or vision, or whatever you wanna call it,

accords with those peculiarities to a degree

which warrants us taking them very seriously indeed.

Oh, and what happened to Naomi?

Did, erm... Miss Tate have a vision of what happened there?

Oh, that's a very good point, Dai.

They were quite close.

If this girl really had half the talent she pretends to,

one might imagine she'd have some idea

of who was responsible for Naomi's death.

If she had, Professor, I'd hardly be at liberty to discuss it.

Certainly not with any of her colleagues.

Hm.

Yeah. Yeah, no. I'll be right over. Thank you.

Could you cover for me?

Why? Where you going?

Looks like Dr Kreitsek wasn't lying about Molly Andrews.

She's here, all right,

with all the rest of the guinea-pigs.

Professor Blish signed off her expenses each visit.

Worth giving Carl another go, I think.

So, Professor Blish uses a fountain pen?

Hm? You can tell by the signature on the time sheet, look.

The nib has become splayed.

- That's what's giving it that double-vision look. - So?

I thought it was unusual for Dr Benford

to be using a pen like this.

This is Professor Blish's pen.

But we saw Blish sign a cheque for the butcher's.

It was a silver pen, quite modern.

But didn't his wife give him a pen with the chequebook?

Bloke can have more than one pen.

He can, but this pen belonged to Professor Blish.

Look, the lines on the page,

are the exact same as the signature on the timesheets.

And that's the pen that was found under Dr Benford's body?

Which means it must have landed before she fell.

Why kill Molly Andrews, though?

You think he was knocking her off?

Only one way to find out.

Just one or two formalities I wanted to go through with you.

I'm taking care of Dr Benford's subjects now.

You spoke to the police, I believe?

Er, yes. Yes, I did.

About Dr Benford?

Yes. And I told her about my...

Er, what I saw on the towpath.

And did you talk to them about anything else? Anyone here, say?

Like who?

Well...

...you remember that little conversation I had with Dr Benford?

You were both laughing.

Do you remember?

On the staircase.

Perhaps, I seemed a little funny?

What's... 'A little cross, maybe?'

- ...what's funny? - Oh, nothing.

Oh, really.

It seemed quite funny.

No. No, I assure you.

Do you?

Well, then, I am assured...

aren't I?

Did you mention that at all?

No.

No.

Well, that's good.

You're all right. You're all right.

You OK?

So, did Molly Andrews threaten to expose

what was going on between you to your wife?

Is that why you killed her?

Square.

She was blackmailing you, so you strangled her

the way you tried to strangle Jenny Tate.

What?

Molly, I, er...

I don't know what you're talking about.

What happened between me and Naomi

was nothing to do with anything else.

No more lies, Professor.

You'll never breathe free air again.

Why don't you come clean? Get it off your chest.

You must have hated her with a passion.

Hate Naomi?

I didn't hate her.

Quite the opposite.

I had feelings for her.

And she gave me reason to believe they were reciprocated.

You know, it's... it's little things.

Shy glances held a moment too long.

Young woman like that?

What would she want with an old stick like you?

No, you don't know. You've no conception.

An older man has experience, wisdom.

Donald, I'm-I'm flattered, but...

I thought...

You gave me reason to believe you felt something for me.

I... I gave you no reason.

You took my arm.

What?

In the common room.

Did I?

I suppose you'll put it round the college now.

You can all have a...

you can all have a jolly good laugh. Well...

I'm telling you now, I won't be laughed at! I won't.

I know. I wouldn't.

I respect you too much to ever laugh.

She had a lovely laugh.

That's one of the things that first drew me to her.

But, I mean, when you think about it. It was her fault.

That's what set the whole thing in motion. The end of it.

Donald?

I gave you a chance!

Here.

To make something of yourself.

I give you a chance and... you used me.

Used you how?

I am infinitely more qualified for that television thing than you.

It was me first mentioned your name to them.

I thought you might make a good assistant.

That's what this is about?

Your bruised ego.

A woman beat you to the job, and you can't stand it.

You're pathetic.

Where do you think you're going?!

I'm going home, Donald.

You'll stay here until I'm finished with you!

I just want a kiss. Kiss me.

What are you doing? Get off me!

I would have changed my life,

burnt all this to the ground.

Please. Please. Please.

She could have been something, you know?

Really been something.

She was more than "something", she was someone.

Is that how it went with Molly Andrews?

You became fixated with her

the same way you became fixated on Dr Benford?

Did she reject your unwanted advances in the same way?

Is that why you killed her?

I'm off.

Drink?

Erm... I won't this evening.

You were right, then.

And I was wrong.

It wasn't the boyfriend.

Well, don't feel too bad about it.

Sometimes you can't see what's staring you in the face.

We got there in the end.

That's the main thing.

See you tomorrow.

You made it!

How's the case. Did you get your man?

Yeah, it looks that way.

Congratulations.

Hmm. Thank you. I say, this is quite the place.

Let me get you a top up.

- Sure. - Well, make yourself at home.

Enjoy the garden. Relax.

I'll find you and you can tell me all about it.

My wife's been having these people round.

Faith healers, they call themselves.

They perform this laying on of hands, they call it.

Touching her body while prayers are said.

She says it won't work unless... one believes.

Do you believe?

Well, can't say I've ever had much use for it in civilian life

outside of court, of course.

We weren't Bible raised.

Can it work, do you think?

Beyond me, sir.

For some people, believing's enough.

What they say, "Faith can move mountains"?

If it gives her comfort.

Yes. Yes, that's...

...that's the important thing. Comfort. Hope.

But I worry, do you see?

What if there is a chance it can work and my want of faith...?

Morse!

Come and meet my wife.