Original subtitles

'At The Jolly Rajah,

'we use only the freshest spices, the choicest meat

'and the highest quality vegetables,

'to bring you the very best of Indian cuisine.

'From a romantic dinner to a full wedding reception,

'The Jolly Rajah,

'only two minutes' walk from this cinema.'

'For a better Oxford, and a better Britain,

'this Thursday, 18th June, vote Conservative

'because a vote for the Conservative Party

'is a vote for a better tomorrow.'

Adam, "Danger Man", Sloane!

And all the way from Africa...

it's Johnny Simba!

'How is she, Doctor?'

Perhaps better than one might expect.

There will be good days.

'It's no accident that I use the word "invasion" advisedly.'

Because it contains the word "Asian".

Since the war, we have been literally swamped

with a tidal wave of people

from our former territories and colonies.

But we left! We gave them their countries back!

'If the British Movement is about one thing,

'it's about British jobs for British workers.'

Yes!

'British homes for British families!

'And British hospitals for British patients!'

Yes!

'It's not the colour of your passport that makes you British.

- 'It's the colour of your skin!' - 'Yes!'

Don't let the food get cold, eh?

Salim!

'Et Voila!

'Tournedos Rossini, finished in a madeira demi-glace sauce.

'Together with a glass of rose...

'Very sexy.

'This is Oberon Prince wishing you, "Bon appetit".'

Where you going? Hey?

Where are you going?

Eh? Come on!

Of all the opera houses in all of Venice, hey?

- Do you believe in sin? - No.

Damnation?

It's a bit late for that, isn't it?

'Morse, come and meet my wife.'

'Some things are unforgivable, though, don't you think?'

'If I wasn't such a trusting soul, 'I'd think she'd taken a lover.

'But you wouldn't do that to me. Would you, darling?'

Morse.

Right, well, we'll be in touch.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

* Spanish eyes *

* Teardrops are falling... *

Sod it.

Jolly Rajah. Silver service.

A chicken vindaloo, pilau rice...

So, er... one lamb bhuna.

Oh! I'm sorry, chicken, er, jalfrezi, yeah. No?

Oh, oh, er...

That'll do, lads. Old style wrestling.

Dad? Dad? Let me.

- I... I've got it. - No, no, it's all right.

You just, er... just take a minute.

- Yeah? Yes, sir. - Yes, yes.

'You'll be at it for most of the afternoon.'

- 'You won't be the only one!' - 'Oh, you saucy beggar!'

- How is he? - Confused, Uncle.

He keeps laying and relaying table four.

I left a message for Farook.

You don't think it could be a stroke or something, do you?

Your brother, Farook, will know. Aziz, that's the last of the night.

Five drops, and then home.

Excuse me... Boys.

- Boys! - Yeah.

- It's my wine, you buffoon. - Oh, ho-ho! Ho-ho!

Hey...

How is he?

You all right, Dad?

It's Farook.

Yes, I know who you are.

What do you want?

Mendip Gardens West.

- Oh! - Oh, 'ey!

He's more pissed than you, Simba!

Cheers!

Delivery!

Hello?

Hello?

Joan, erm... said to send her best.

- Her secondment's going well? - Very well.

There is talk of her staying there permanently.

They all fly the nest.

- We had a letter from Sam. - Hm.

Belfast, he's off to.

Seeing the world.

- Morse. - Ah, morning, sir.

Anything in?

Mrs Radowicz? Detective Chief Inspector Thursday.

My Sergeant, DS Morse.

We've met before, I believe. Couple of years ago.

- You ran a hairdressers. - Salon.

I still do.

- What's all this about? - It's about your son, Gary.

- Is he home? - No. No, he's not. He's at school.

What do you want him for?

Can you account for his movements last night?

He was here. Home with me.

- You're sure about that? - Quite sure, thank you.

We have an eyewitness

placing him at the scene of an assault last night.

Like to look at his room, if you don't mind?

I do mind. You wanna poke about in my house,

you'll want a warrant, won't you?

And until you've got one, you know what you can do.

- This is our country. Yours and mine. - Yes!

- Let's take it back. - Yes!

- Mr Gorman. - And you are?

Police.

It's all right, Nige.

I'm always happy to help Her Majesty's Constabulary.

I'm sure Her Majesty's very grateful, sir.

We've got a question about one of your supporters.

Young man called Gary Radowicz. Also calls himself Rogers.

Doesn't ring a bell.

He was at the talk that you gave on Monday night.

- Was he? - Mm.

I really couldn't say.

I don't know each and every one of those

sympathetic to the cause, you understand.

There was a lot of people there.

A lot of people are very concerned about the state of our country.

Well, we're very concerned about young Pakistani lads

getting knifed on the street.

Terrible.

But... I can't say that I'm surprised.

You cram all of these incompatible cultures together

on one small island,

of course it's gonna lead to blood, and worse.

Sounds like a threat, Mr Gorman.

It's just an observation.

If the police can't keep the streets safe

and defend the indigenous population against outsiders, well...

...no wonder people take it into their own hands.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a seat to win.

Ah, Thursday.

- Morning, sir. - Morse.

Sir.

Division have been asking about this Jakobsson case,

the cook at the working men's club.

We've got two women who've positively identified him

as the man who's been exposing himself along the river.

But beyond that...

Random attacks, as far as we can make out.

Robbery doesn't appear to have been a motive.

- What about last night's stabbing? - We've got a name.

Juvenile. 15 years old. Gerwazy Radowicz.

What's that? Polish, is it?

On his father's side. AKA, Gary Rogers.

- He runs with this racialist crowd. - You're bringing him in, presumably.

If we can find him. At school, according to his mother.

Though, if he was involved last night,

I'd be surprised if he turned up for assembly,

but we'll take a look.

I see, well, keep me apprised of any developments.

The last thing we need is a public order issue in Election Week.

Sorry to interrupt, sir.

Couldn't do us a favour, could you, matey?

- I've got court in an hour. - What's this? More about last night?

No, sir. Something else.

Missing person, according to Uniform.

I see. Very well. Carry on.

- I'll take the school, if you want to... - Sir.

- Good afternoon, Mrs...? - Her name is Aziz.

She doesn't speak English. That's why I'm here.

Mrs Sardar. Nuha Sardar.

Detective Sergeant Morse.

A missing persons case, my colleague said.

Mrs Aziz's husband. He delivers food for my father-in-law's restaurant.

The Jolly Rajah?

He left the restaurant just after 11 last night

with his final delivery run, and never came home.

And how had he been lately? Anything worrying him?

- She said he'd not been himself. - In what way?

He had something on his mind, but couldn't tell her what it was?

So this is his final list of deliveries?

- Yes. - Just four addresses?

That's right.

Nobody called to say their take-away hadn't been delivered?

- No. - Right.

- Has Mr Aziz been with you long? - A couple of years.

- Was he a reliable driver? - Usually.

His wife said he seemed to have something on his mind.

I wondered, is there anything that had been troubling him at work?

No.

I mean, he did say that he might wish to speak with me,

but I'm afraid I just put him off.

Any idea what that might've been about?

Money.

See, his mother-in-law's coming to live with him later this month.

And I suppose he thought he might get a raise out of me.

Hm.

Can I ask who's responsible for taking these orders?

Would you like to see a menu?

Perhaps a drink while you're waiting?

Oh, all right. All right.

I'm sorry, my brother is, er...

is not quite as in command of his faculties as we're used to.

He's overworked.

Ah, I see, I was just...

...trying to find out how the orders were dispatched.

- How the route is arrived at? - Oh, right, I see. Um, well...

The orders are all bundled together and sent out hourly, more or less.

Right... But I mean, the nearest first, presumably?

I believe so.

This is all organised by my brother and Mr Aziz.

I just take care of the kitchen.

'Good afternoon, sir.

'Did you order an Indian takeaway yesterday evening?'

Good afternoon. Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

You ordered a takeaway from The Jolly Rajah last night?

Hello?

Hello? The police...

Hello?

Doctor. What have we got?

The cause of death would appear to be a cleaver blow

to the back of the skull.

No defensive wounds.

Blood splatter on the wall,

and what looks to be a print on the door frame.

That be the weapon?

I can't say exactly

until I see what comes back from the lab.

That's the bloke who delivered my curry last night.

- About what time? - Um... around 11?

Whose place is this?

It's a man called, erm, Oberon Prince.

He's a cook, according to the porter.

Yeah. He's off the telly.

He's got a recipes and reviews column

in the Oxford Mail every Saturday.

So where is he?

Just a few questions.

Do you know Mr Prince in number ten?

We've said "hello" once or twice. He's friendly enough.

- Have you lived here long? - 18 months.

It's my dad's place. One of 'em.

I'm going through a divorce.

He doesn't use it much, so I...

So you didn't see or hear anything unusual last night?

No.

Well, thank you very much, Miss Trent.

Oberon Prince.

I've only met him a couple of times.

He files his copy by post,

always well in advance of his deadline.

Turns up at the Christmas party once in a while.

Family?

Has a wife, I think. Or had been.

Rosemary, possibly. One of the herbs.

And this is the only address you have for him?

Far as I know.

There might be a holiday home in Greece.

I can look into it for you. Can I get a quote?

All right, we're keeping an open mind.

We welcome the chance to speak to him

and urge him to contact us at the earliest opportunity.

Well, I've an inquest to attend once I'm done here,

but I'll see it makes the late edition.

- Anyone we know? - Farmer out towards Wytham.

Drowned in the pigswill.

You know, this is the sixth freak accident

I've attended in as many months.

All relatively healthy. All in their 30s or 40s. All single.

- Hm? - Half a dozen in half a year?

Hardly what you'd call an epidemic.

Well, you know best, I'm sure.

See you later.

Sir. The food for the third delivery on his list is still in his car.

- How's that? - It's, er, 14 Mendip Gardens West.

Nah, there's a Mendip Gardens North and a Mendip Gardens South,

but no West. Nor East, for that matter.

Could the restaurant have taken it down wrong?

Well, it's possible.

The proprietor's an, erm, Uqbah Sardar.

According to his brother, he's been a little off his game recently.

You'd have thought if someone's supper didn't turn up,

they might've rung to complain.

Yeah, that's what I thought, but apparently not.

I'd better report back to Mr Bright.

Can you and Jim finish up here?

Get out a ports and airports,

and see that Prince's photograph is circulated.

Oh, erm, sir, Miss Frazil's freak accidents,

you don't think there's anything in that?

Besides a few thousand on the circulation?

You know what the press is like.

Porter'd clocked Aziz's car this morning.

He keeps a list of those cars he sees

that don't have a right to park here,

as some of the residents can get quite beady.

And what did he say about him, Prince?

Lived here about six years. No trouble.

Last saw him yesterday morning when he took him up his post.

Very popular with the ladies.

So, Prince orders a take-away and then kills the delivery driver?

Or maybe he was on a promise last night and never came home?

Mr Aziz was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Perhaps he stumbled upon a burglary or something?

Anything's possible, matey.

'..death of an employee

'of a popular Oxford restaurant, The Jolly Rajah.

'The victim, who is yet to be identified,

'is believed to be a driver at the restaurant.'

A stabbing last night, and now this.

- Connected, do you think? - Nothing to say so, sir.

Both victims are Pakistani, aren't they?

- Yes, sir. - But that's as far as it goes.

Well, that's far enough.

Division will be monitoring this situation very carefully.

Was the victim known to this Prince character?

Not as we've been able to establish yet, sir.

Morse and me are gonna brace 'em down the restaurant,

see if there's anything there.

He orders an Indian meal,

and then butchers the man who delivers it?

What is he? A lunatic of some sort?

Food critic, sir.

Even so.

Taking an axe to someone's head goes beyond expressing

dissatisfaction with the service, wouldn't you say?

He's had some sort of emotional breakdown, maybe?

If it was him.

Well, if it wasn't, you'd imagine he'd come forward

as soon as he hears his flat's been turned into a slaughterhouse.

Gary?

'Reports of violence in the city over the last 24 hours,

'as police are appealing for witnesses to the stabbing,

'following a clash between rival gangs.

'A young Asian teenager was rushed to hospital,

'having been pursued with friends by a white gang of youths.

'In other news, well-known television chef

'and restaurant critic, Oberon Prince,

'has been reported missing...'

Good afternoon, Mrs Sardar. Might we come in?

Yes, of course.

It's the police. About Mr Aziz.

Detective Chief Inspector Thursday, Thames Valley.

I believe you met my colleague.

Yes. Yes, of course. My nephews, Dr Farook Sardar

and his young brother, Salim.

- You found him? - We did, sir.

And I'm sorry to say it's not good news, he's deceased.

And it wasn't a natural death.

What? Another attack?

Well, we can't speculate at this stage, sir.

His car was found outside a block of flats

called Tiffin Court. Do you know it?

- No. - I've never heard of it.

Did Mr Aziz have any enemies, as far as you know?

No, he was... mildest of men.

No trouble with any of the customers, nothing like that?

No, he saw nothing of the customers,

only walking through the restaurant from the kitchen

to do his deliveries.

And we need to speak to your brother, sir.

Uqbah, is it?

Er, about a couple of orders he took.

The addresses appear to have been taken down wrongly.

I'm afraid my father's not well, Chief Inspector.

Recently, he's been... having trouble with his memory,

- his reading and writing skills. - Well, how's that?

- Well... - For a few months,

there's been, ah... discrepancies when cashing up.

He's been charging people twice over for dishes on their bill,

or... not ringing it up at all.

How long as he been like this?

It has got worse over the last year.

We've been trying to talk to him about doing less,

retiring, even, but... he won't hear of it.

It would be helpful if we could see a list of the customers

- that did come in last night. - Certainly.

All the information's at The Rajah.

Ah, er, when you're ready, we might go to the restaurant.

Did you have many bookings?

I suppose three-quarters of the cover's early in the evening.

Was there any trouble between Mr Aziz

and any of the other customers?

No. There was quite a rowdy table, but...

they had nothing to do with Mr Aziz. Wrestlers, I think.

- Had they booked? - No, but they've been in before.

Always late.

What time did you close up last night?

I closed the kitchen at 11.

My brother had a bit of a turn.

So we called Farook and he took him home.

And then Salim followed on in his car,

and I... shut up the restaurant at, er, just after 12.

So you were alone? Would that be usual?

Oh! First in, last out. Chef's lot.

Ah, the counterfoils, for the credit card and the cheques.

Which were the addresses you were having trouble with?

Tiffin Court, it was 10, not 1C. And, er, Mendip Gardens West.

Maybe my brother wrote it down wrongly.

Well... thank you for your assistance.

We'll return these as soon as possible.

Thank you.

'I won't be long.'

'Sir.'

- I'm sorry, who are you? - I'm his wife.

Well, his first wife.

Rosemary Prince.

I believe you're looking for my husband.

So I'm sorry, what is it you're doing here?

Well, I was concerned.

I hoped he might have turned up, come back,

then all this could be explained.

And when did you see him last, Mr Prince?

I haven't seen him for a while.

But we speak... on the telephone, every week.

Do you mind if I...

I know it's a little early, but to steady my nerves.

Have you any idea where he might be? There's talk of a place in Greece.

And a suitcase of his appears to be missing.

Well, he does have a little place there.

Well, who was he?

He was a delivery man...

from a restaurant called The Jolly Rajah.

Did he ever mentioned a man called Aziz? Iqbal Aziz?

No. Never.

Does that seem in keeping to you?

That he would order food to be delivered.

Indian, certainly.

We never touched it on the programme.

- Sorry, the programme? - "Et Voila".

We started together. On the television.

It was my Johnny to his Fanny.

Oh, it was 15 years ago, nigh on.

The Dark Ages.

Most people had barely heard of vinaigrette, huh!

Look...

whatever you think he's done, you're quite wrong.

Only he has his faults, but this is far beyond his scope.

It's way too grotesque.

If you don't mind me asking, what happened between you?

Oh, it was my fault.

I never cared for the sticky side of married life.

We looked at other couples, they might've had the physical side,

but most of them could barely stand the sight of each other

half the time.

We had something they could only dream of...

companionship.

And he was the most tremendous fun.

Right up until the sixth whisky sour.

Then things could turn a little... ugly.

So what, he drank?

He drank. He gambled. But I never stopped loving him.

Was he ever violent?

On occasion.

But I don't believe he's capable of anything that happened here.

I can't. It's not the best time.

I can't talk now.

I agree, there's a lot to discuss.

I can't help you.

Sorry.

Who was that?

Wrong number.

You don't think we could've got it wrong, do you?

I know, but...

two murders...

...Molly Andrews, Tony Jakobsson... on the same stretch of Tow path?

For fear of sounding like a broken record,

I think a man getting his throat cut,

is a world apart from a woman having her neck broken.

We've got who killed Molly Andrews and Naomi Bedford,

he's on remand in Farley.

Unless you wanted to drop all charges

and have him back out on the street.

How'd you make out at Prince's flat?

Met his wife. Well, his first wife.

Still seems to carry something of a torch for him.

- What was she doing there? - Same as us,

wants to know where Prince is.

- Shed any light? - No.

But I did turn this up.

- Gambler. - Mm.

Something of a drinker, too, and violent with it.

Nothing from Ports and Airports

on flight manifests or passenger lists.

If he's already gone, he's done it under a different name.

But he's from the television, isn't he?

Be difficult for someone like that

to slip out of the country unnoticed, I'd have thought.

Unless he's changed his appearance?

Anything from Forensics on the bloody thumb print

found at Tiffin Court?

No match for Oberon Prince.

What about the Greek Inn, that place he's got out there?

Vrakonisi?

Locals have been up to the villa, but no sign of life.

- You, ah, seen the latest? - Oh, yeah.

Still think it wasn't him?

Morse, it's been too long!

I've been wandering the Mediterranean

with my, how do you say it, "My cap in my hand"?

My beggar's bowl.

- Begging bowl. - All in a good cause, I assure you.

Seeking donations for my family's charitable foundation.

The only relief I got was that Steve was there,

- making a picture. - Steve who?

McQueen. Yes, it's funny.

The only real person, out of any of them, should be an actor.

But I have been unforgivably neglectful,

and that's why I'm here.

To rectify matters and deserve your forgiveness.

- There's nothing needs forgiving. - You're very kind.

But one should keep the friendships that matter

in good repair, don't you think?

I've never...

I've never really thought about it that way.

I left messages at your work before we went away.

Come for supper tomorrow.

Violetta has forsaken me once again.

I'm in need of good company.

- Well, I can't promise that. - Well, you sell yourself too short.

Now, a drink, I think.

I took the liberty.

What is this we're listening to?

La Cura Per L'Amore. Tregola.

Ah! Well, in that case, "Due bicchieri".

The police have gone.

There's nobody here... only me.

I miss you.

Why don't you come round and keep me company?

Miss! Bridget, isn't it?

Come, come out of the rain.

You wanna be careful walking along at night like this.

- It's not safe. - I don't have far to go.

Takes me back to my days on the beat. Well, on Nights.

I used to like Nights. Especially after a bit of rain.

Oh, Win told me all about the wrestling.

Yeah! We had a great time.

Oh, I'm all right from here, Mr Thursday.

Oh, all right, then. You mind how you go.

Oh... you were in India, Mrs Bright said.

Yes, yes. Before the war. Hm, yes.

- Whereabouts? - Oh, here and there.

Calcutta, Pankot, Chandrapore.

- And yourself? - Oxford, born and bred.

Yes, well...

...I was very sad to go.

We both were.

- Goodnight, sir. - Ah, goodnight.

Oh... He's very handsome, don't you think?

Oh, yes. Very handsome, I'm sure.

Are you jealous, Puli?

Desperately.

- He says I'm doing much better. - Good.

See, I told you.

You have to have... faith.

What's he doing?

Looking for Ammi.

Sleepwalking.

I don't know.

I thought Farook could give him something.

You were late tonight, from the restaurant.

Stock take.

- And when did you see him last? - When he went to bed.

- What time was that? - About ten o'clock.

We heard him walking about afterwards.

And how did he seem?

He had been very anxious. About what happened to Mr Aziz.

What happened? You were meant to be looking after him.

- I've told him. - You don't tell me anything.

We will get a description circulated to all patrol cars

and beat officers.

Try not to worry.

What about the Oberon Prince case, Morse?

- Anything on the ports and airports? - Nothing, sir.

Sir...

- He was at the restaurant that night. - Which restaurant?

- Jolly Rajah. - Who was? Prince?

Well, that can't be right.

Moniker here on his credit card slip says different, matey.

But if he'd already eaten at the restaurant,

why would he order a takeaway?

Oh, yes. Yes, he was here.

In fact, he had words with that rowdy table I was telling you about.

- Party of eight. - Mr Nayle, was that?

Yeah, that sounds about right.

- 'Still no sign of Gary. - 'And Prince?'

'Maybe Stanley Nayles' boys can shed some light.'

- How's Mrs Aziz? - Terrible.

I gave her something to help her sleep.

Her kids are with her.

This country, it's not a place for us.

- They don't want us here. - You shouldn't talk like that.

This is our home now.

You heard there was a stabbing.

One of our young men on the street. That's our home.

- That's how welcome we are. - Did you help the police?

I think so. They were asking about a man called, er, Oberon Prince.

I know him. He's off the television, he's a chef.

What about him?

That's who Mr Aziz was delivering to at Tiffin Court.

And they think he did it, this Prince?

He's gone missing, apparently.

If he tries to turn that into a Half-Nelson,

you know what to do, drop it right down...

Stanley Nayle?

Yes, gents.

DCI Thursday, DS Morse, Thames Valley.

You ate in The Jolly Rajah in Oxford on Monday night.

Yeah, after we'd finished at the venue.

We heard you had words with another patron.

A man called Oberon Prince.

He was taking the mickey.

I told him to knock it off, but he was drunk, you know.

- He got a bit lippy with us. - So what did you say?

Don't know. I suppose I just said,

"Knock it off, mate," or summat like that.

You know, nothing heavy.

- So you didn't threaten him? - No.

That's not Bobby's part, in the ring or out.

And when you left the restaurant, where d'you go?

Well, it was getting late by then.

Most of us just went back to our digs.

- Where would that be? - We're all over.

Ones and twos. Couple of us here, couple there.

Not everyone's keen on having...

...wrestlers under their roof.

You said "most" of you? Some of you didn't, presumably?

Well, I think a couple of the lads went on to a drinker

we sometimes go to. Adam and the Noble Brothers.

Adam?

Adam, "Dangerman", Sloane.

- And where's he? - He tops the bill,

so he's not with us tonight.

Stan, our gaffer, wanted him to rest up.

Well, we'll need addresses for their lodgings.

Well, I'll have to check my paperwork.

All right if I phone it through?

Look, there's some B&Bs we use on a semi-regular,

whenever we're in town,

but I'll have to check and see who was where.

Some of the lads double up, but...

I will have a look, let you know, yeah?

- You ever go to the wrestling? - What do you think?

"Faces and heels."

That's what the Yanks call 'em.

Like the white hats and the black in the cowboy pictures.

Good guys and villains.

Just like the opera.

It's the "face" in a bout the punters can root for.

The "heel" gives 'em someone to boo.

Sir. Morse.

Your warrant came through for Mrs Radowicz's.

He's entitled to his opinion, the same as anybody else.

They're just not like us.

In what way are they not like us, Mrs Radowicz?

All ways.

They don't talk the way we do

and they make a noise till all hours,

coming and going, and their food smells funny.

- Their food smells funny? - Well, it does!

But you wouldn't know about that because people like you

don't have to live on the same street as them.

Look, do you want to see your Gary get into even more trouble

and end up in Borstal?

- Shh, stay there! - 'Mum?'

- Smoke? - No.

Before we start,

we've got witnesses can put you at the scene

at the time in question,

so, before you answer, you might like to think about that.

I wasn't there. I don't care what anybody says.

Who else was there, Gary?

I wouldn't know, would I? Seeing as I wasn't there.

Look, it's easy to follow the pack.

Older boys, men, you wanna fit in, be one of the lads.

Tell us about Martin Gorman.

What about him?

- Well, you like him. - I'm not a queer.

I mean... you admire him, then.

- He talks sense. - About what?

About the foreigners. Immigration.

The blacks. Pakis.

Coming over here, taking all the jobs

- and the houses and that. - What, you don't care for them?

I don't care for people ruining my country, no.

Is that why you stuck a knife in one of the Asian lads?

I didn't stab anyone.

Gary Rogers.

What's that about?

You wanna go round my school with a Polish name.

- See what it gets you. - You were bullied?

Gerwazy Radowicz.

You had that hanging round your neck,

you'd call yourself Gary Rogers an' all.

I'm British... not Polish.

How'd your parents feel about that?

What I call myself is none of her business.

And your father?

Died. When I was five.

- Oh, sorry. - There's no need.

- He's nothing to me. - He should be.

- Why? - He's your father.

You never knew him. She only took up with him

for the money she could screw out of him.

Look... I didn't stab anyone. I wasn't there,

and you can't put a knife in my hand.

No, we can't.

But we do have a group of Asian lads,

who can pick you out of a line-up, and they will pick you out, Gary.

Sir?

But I thought this boy had been recognised.

Well, no, the eyewitness who named him

now isn't sure it was Gary after all.

They've withdrawn their earlier statement.

Someone put the frighteners on, you think?

Maybe.

But whatever the cause, we've had to let him go.

Sarge, the Sardar family are asking for an update.

I'd better get that.

Never the buggers that load the gun, is it?

- How's that? - Always the ones that pull the trigger.

That tripe-hound, Gorman's every bit as responsible

for the stabbing as the boy was, filling his head full of rubbish.

But nothing ever sticks to those bastards.

British Movement. He's a movement, all right.

May have been Gorman who put the knife into his hand,

but it was Gary that stuck it into another human being.

- A boy not so different from himself. - Different enough.

Boy doesn't know what he is yet.

Whether he's coming or going.

English, Polish, growing up for the most part without a father.

- Everybody has a choice. - Do they?

I just hope the lad sees sense about Gorman and his kind.

Got time for a pint?

Um... No, I can't, not tonight.

- Oh, no? Date, is it? - Hm.

I'll see you tomorrow, then.

Morse, good to see you!

- Hello. - Welcome.

Ludo?

Oh, I spoke prematurely. La bella signora has returned to me.

Perhaps you should think of flying a flag.

Hello again.

Hello.

To indicate that she is in residence, yes?

- Like Her Majesty. - Exactly that.

You've been in Monaco, Ludo says.

Monaco. Antibes.

Right.

Well, look, I've no wish to intrude upon a happy reunion, so I'll...

Nonsense, we're delighted to see you, aren't we?

Of course.

What would you like to drink?

Whatever's going.

You shoot?

- Birds? - No. People.

It's a little early for game, isn't it?

Come. Come.

Pull!

Did you see, darling?

- Did you see that wonderful shot? - I saw.

How is the world of criminality?

I read in the press about Oberon Prince. Can that be right?

- Yeah. Do you know him? - Slightly.

All right, I suppose. He's no Robert Danvers.

- What's this? - Someone was murdered.

This Prince fellow is suspect.

Will you catch him?

I expect so. Sooner or later.

What a blood-soaked life you lead.

Pull!

Yeah it's that, all right.

No matter how many cases you solve or bad people you put away,

there's always another one standing right behind them.

There speaks a devil sick of sin.

I just wonder if I've stayed too long at the fair.

Why do it, if you hate it so much?

I suppose because I'm no good at anything else.

And because the dead deserve justice.

There's a delivery man's lost his life

and a... a woman left a widow.

Life, death, rich, poor.

It's all a roll of the dice, Morse. There's no reason to any of it.

They're not responsible.

Some people are just unlucky.

Pull!

'Britain already is part

'of the European Trade Association.

- 'We have applied for membership...' - All right?

Fred?

Yeah, I'm gonna take a turn round the block.

What's up?

Just, er...

Just work.

I'm here, you know, if you want to talk about anything.

Whatever it is, you'll put it right.

It's what you do.

I owe you an explanation.

"No questions", wasn't it?

A mere "goodbye" might have been polite,

but nobody died.

You don't owe me anything.

Can I see you?

I don't think so.

He's a friend.

Affairs with married women?

I'm sorry, it's just not my... not my scene.

I thought we'd crack open the Margeaux.

I'll leave you to it.

It'll have to be another time, I'm afraid. Work.

You approve? Violetta.

Oh, yeah, you're a lucky man.

Yes, I am. God knows what I did to deserve her.

If I lost her, I don't know what I'd do.

Then don't.

No. I don't intend to.

We'll go out.

Tannheuser at Covent Garden.

Look, you can't be running around London getting drunk with me.

Your wife's back now. Take her.

Violetta hates the opera.

Next week!

Let's do it, come on! Best seats in the house!

Sir?

Mr Sardar?

- We've been looking for you. - Oh, hello.

I... I must go... home.

Course, you do.

Come on. You're drenched through.

There you are.

You're lucky we got a report about your wanderings.

Anyway...

I forget things.

Well, I'm... I'm sure we all do that.

I'll go into a room and I can't remember

what I've come in for.

Or I'll put my pipe down,

and... damn me if I can remember where I left it.

It's more than that, I can't remember...

...words.

I...

You know, conversations I had five minutes ago.

Well, your eldest son's a doctor, isn't he?

- Overwork, he says. - Well, there you are, then.

I feel like I'm...

...fading.

Like there's a darkness on the edge of sight...

...slowly creeping in.

And the more... you look

out of the corner of your eye...

...the more it slips out of view.

But I know it's there.

Come on, let's get you inside.

He had been taking money, I think.

Who had?

Mr Aziz.

Skimming, you call it now.

Everyone thought it was me forgetting,

but it was him.

Not enough to stand out, but...

...over a long period of time.

You should've said.

I should've paid him more.

So, all that about Uqbah coming up short

when they cashed up of an evening in the restaurant

was likely down to Mr Aziz having his fingers in the till.

I've run a registration check on cars parked illegally

- outside Tiffin Court. - Where's this come from?

The porter, Mr Comer.

We got a few frequent customers.

The most regular, a cream Mercedes.

Saturday and Wednesdays, roughly the same time.

Any idea who it belongs to?

I really don't know what I can do for you.

Dr Sardar. You on a house call?

If you forgive me, my private life is none of your concern.

It is if it has anything to do with what happened to Mr Aziz

in flat ten the other night.

Why don't you sit down? And you, Miss Trent.

We really don't know anything about that. Really, we don't!

So, were you here on Monday night, Doctor?

We can easily find out if your car was.

He was gone by 11.

Did you see anyone loitering about the place?

No. Look, I have not broken the law.

You denied ever having heard about Tiffin Court.

Why do that, unless you had something to hide?

What should I have said?

Me and Ilsa know nothing about what happened to poor Mr Aziz.

OK? Just a coincidence.

So what is it that you didn't want us to know?

I know Prince.

I've seen him once or twice,

- we play cards together. - Where?