Original subtitles

Here and there. It's nothing regular.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I really do have patients to see.

There's nothing else I can tell you right now.

So if I may?

All right.

For now.

We know where to find you.

Where did you two meet?

My father runs a floating poker game.

High stakes for local business types.

Who's your father?

Look, my father's got nothing to do with this.

- I'd as soon as not say. - We can easily find out.

That's my dad there.

Did Oberon Prince ever play at your father's poker game?

I think he was a regular, yeah.

Not much of a card player, though, Dad said.

Which made him the perfect addition.

What you do.

The people you meet, they've done bad things.

Mm, some.

You forgive them?

I'm not very good at forgiveness.

Would you forgive me if I did something bad?

That depends what it was.

And if there was contrition.

Genuine contrition.

How would you know if it was genuine?

Do you want to get something off your chest?

Because if you wanna confess,

I'm sure there's 100 churches in this city.

139, I counted them.

I don't want to confess.

I just want to know that you'd forgive me.

'Morse? It's me.

'Morse?'

- Whoa! - Mind out!

'A police murder investigation is continuing

'into the death of a Pakistani delivery driver

'who was found dead in the home of television chef

'and renowned food critic Oberon Prince.

'The chef has not been seen since the night of the murder.

'In other news, the victim

'of what is believed to be a racist attack

'is still critically ill in hospital

'The teenager was with a group of friends in the city

'when they were...'

You came.

- Where does he think you are? - Seeing a girlfriend.

The lies come easy once they start, don't they?

They do when it matters.

What was it that couldn't wait? You said it was important.

- I needed to see you. Alone. - Why?

To see if I still felt the same.

Look...

...if you're unhappy...

...you should just make a clean break of it.

I'm not unhappy.

I'm afraid.

Of what?

Letting something slip through my fingers.

Something good.

Venice was Venice.

You...

You stepped out of your life for a minute

and found yourself in mine. And it was wonderful.

But it wasn't real.

It was for me.

Tell me you don't want me.

I don't want you.

Tell me again.

I can't save you.

Then no-one can.

* Nothing at all *

- * Without love... * - You started smoking?

It's a dirty habit.

I married who you wanted me to marry, look how that worked out.

I'm not gonna live like a nun.

You're not gonna live like a slut neither!

I hear things, Ilsa.

- I don't care what you hear. - I can see that.

Look, I've got a reputation to maintain.

What with the election and everything.

Don't you think about that?

How'd you think it's gonna look if you're carrying on

with all and sundry?

If you've just come round to bawl at me, I'm going to bed.

You can let yourself out.

* Nothing at all. *

No, here!

It was a private game between friends.

- Was Oberon Prince amongst them? - From time to time.

Oberon's a heavy roller, he'll bet on anything,

anywhere, any time.

He'll bet on two flies crawling up the wall.

Chaps like him, it's a disease.

You play with the Sardar family, I believe.

Pakistanis.

So, your prejudice ends at the poker table.

I'll take cash off anybody who's got it.

Black, brown, yellow.

There's an old saying... "money has no smell".

What, everyone's equal before the cards?

Well, that's the nature of chance.

Still, not something I imagine you'd want widely known, is it?

Well, it's not your place to blab, is it?

When did you see him last? Prince.

Well, we were supposed to play last Saturday,

but what with... this... the game got bumped.

The previous week, he'd hosted the game at his place,

but I was busy with the election campaign,

so I missed it.

Although I heard from a friend of friend that he won big.

Cleaned out one of our tinted types.

- Who? - I don't know.

Like I said, I wasn't there.

I want a list of your regular players.

I'm sure you do!

Look... these are wealthy individuals.

- They buy and sell people like you. - Really?

I can't imagine it would do your election campaign much good

if it got out that in your private life,

you enjoy play cards with Pakistanis.

You're bluffing. You're a copper.

- It's beyond your remit. - Boss?

Indiscretion is second nature to me, Mr Gorman.

Especially when speaking to members of the Fourth Estate, I assure you.

- I don't believe you. - You should, Mr Gorman.

We're the police, we don't bluff.

He'd better come up with that list of names and addresses.

While we're waiting, we might get something

from the poker chips and playing cards in Prince's flat.

Well, there's more than one way to skin a donkey.

Gorman's daughter? You must be mad.

- Or in love. - Oh, please! Love?

You think love'll save you from her father's thugs?

Wake up, Farook!

This place is finished for the likes of us.

- Yeah, not for me. - No. No. Of course not for you

You're the Great British doctor.

- Come on. - Don't kid yourself.

They tolerate you. Because you're useful.

That's what... that's what they mean by "tolerance", right?

Putting up with something they'd sooner not.

I don't want to be tolerated. I want to belong.

- Salim... - I'm getting out.

Going home.

Home?

To Bengal?

And you call ME mad?!

- I've been talking to Cousin Arik. - Oh, Cousin Arik the Nationalist?

We could be part of something. All of us.

Something good. Something new.

What does Nuha think about this?

She'll follow her husband, in all things.

- You mean you haven't told her. - No. He hasn't.

Is that's what these late-night calls have been about?

We're not talking about this now.

I won't go back.

This is my home now and I won't be driven out.

- Should tell him, not me. - He's YOUR brother!

And he's your husband.

Is this all?

Enough, isn't it?

An elegant sufficiency, thank you.

Insofar as we appear to have one torso,

together with both legs and arms,

but we are deficient to the tune of one head.

And the mountain range one might expect to find,

as the old geographers' joke has it,

at the end of a cockney's wristies.

His 'andies, Sergeant.

I'll know better once I've got him laid out.

But in the inside compartment in the suitcase,

there's a BEA airline ticket and a passport.

In the name of Oberon Prince.

If there's nothing else, Doctor,

I think we'll leave you to your jigsaw and move upwind.

By all means. Shall we say two o'clock?

How can someone do that to another human being?

He's already done the worst thing.

That might turn our stomachs, but the victim's long past caring.

So what do we imagine has taken place?

Delivery man stumbles up on something,

then whoever killed Oberon Prince had to silence him?

Possibly, sir.

I don't think he stumbled on anything, sir.

- I think Mr Aziz was sent there. - How's that?

Well, I suspect someone sent him on a wild goose chase

on his third delivery.

- Mendip Gardens West? - Yeah.

- Why? - Well, if I was killing two people,

it would be easier to deal with them separately. Don't you think?

So, whoever it is kills Prince, waits for Aziz to arrive,

then does for him?

Assuming whoever it was wanted both of them dead.

Two birds?

In the flat, I asked you if he'd ever mentioned a Mr Aziz.

Now, in light of these recent developments,

I'd like to know if he knew anyone of that name.

No.

If he did, he never mentioned anything to me.

Did your husband have any enemies that you are aware of, Mrs Prince?

I mean, he might've given the odd bad review

that some restauranteur took exception to.

He could be quite difficult, if the mood took him.

But nothing to warrant something like this.

You're definitely sure it's Oberon you've found?

You couldn't be mistaken?

Well, we've strong reason to believe it is.

Did he have any distinguishing features, Mrs Prince?

He had a... a port-wine birthmark on his left thigh.

Is it that bad?

I'm very sorry.

No. Thank you.

Somehow I always knew he'd come back to me in the end.

One way or another.

Not so much dismembered as butchered and jointed.

With a rudimentary proficiency and no small amount of luck.

- Where? - At the flat, presumably.

Place would've looked like a slaughterhouse, wouldn't it?

- The bathroom? - Well, of course,

that's the traditional locus,

for obvious reasons.

I'd be very surprised if Scene Of Crime

didn't get a result from the U-bend of the bath.

- How long would it take? - Oh, not that long.

Provided you've a decent knife and a passable bone-saw.

Yes?

Duxbury's. The undertakers. Here about a car crash.

Female. Whittaker.

Ah, yes, drawer six.

I'll show you. Excuse me.

Hey, can I have a word?

The court's been in touch. About Molly. The trial.

Early in the new year they're saying?

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Will they want me to testify?

Only as to what you know.

Look, I don't know what's going on,

but your guvnor's following me around.

- No, you're imagining things. - I was at the picture house, Monday.

He was there. I've seen him watching my work too.

I've spoken to a solicitor. It's harassment.

I don't want to make any trouble...

...but unless he lays off, I'll have to talk to his superiors.

Make a complaint.

Oi, love! Why don't you go home?!

'Police investigating the stabbing of an Oxford teenager

'have now launched a murder investigation

'following the death of the boy in hospital.

'He had been admitted after a racist attack...'

I don't believe it! He's done it again!

Another win.

Gary! What are you doing here? Come 'ere.

Make yourself useful. I'm out of smokes.

Nip along and get me a packet of Guardsmen

and some Slim Panatellas.

I'll give you the money when you get back.

He's a good lad.

Drinks!

Oh, no, no, no!

No, thanks.

So, you were made by Carl Sturgis at the picture house on Monday.

I fancied an evening at the flicks.

X-rated smut?

Since when did you become part of the plastic mac brigade?

What's going on?

I just wanna be sure.

Sure of what?

That we were right about Molly Andrews.

Well... Sturgis is threatening to make a complaint.

- He won't. - What if he does?

Let him.

I know you wanted it to be him...

...but you're obsessing about the wrong man.

- You've gotta let it drop. - Who do you think you're talking to?

No, wait!

Mrs Radowicz?

What is it now? More lies about my Gary?

He's... he's cold...

Why is he so cold?

You... you need to warm him up.

Fetch him a blanket!

Why... why don't you give him a blanket?

He'll wake up.

Wake up! Wake up, wake up!

- Mrs Radowicz... - No!

You did this.

You did this! You killed him!

Who did this?

Who hurt my boy?

I hate them!

I hate them all. I hope they die screaming!

WPC Jarvis will see you home. My sincere condolences.

Jim?

Thought you'd want to know soon as...

There's a match come through on the thumbprint

at Oberon Prince's flat.

So you were at the Town Hall,

you did your wrestling,

then you went out for something to eat.

- Remember? - Yeah, I remember.

- An Indian restaurant. - Yeah. I said I remember.

'There was a bit of an argument with one of the other diners.

- 'You remember that? - 'Vaguely.'

'Man called Oberon Prince?'

- If you say so. - Where d'you go after the restaurant?

- Back to my digs. - Anyone vouch for you?

Yeah. I were bunking in with Johnny Simba.

Right, that's interesting, because according to this,

Mr Simba was sharing with the Singh brothers,

and you had a single occupancy.

Right, well, it changes.

We stay in so many places, it's hard to keep track.

But you just went straight back to your digs.

Yeah, that's right.

Well, I wonder if you can tell us, then, how your bloody thumb print

left an impression on a door frame

in a block of flats called Tiffin Court.

A flat where we found a man dead, murdered.

- I don't know anything about it. - Well, we know that you were there.

So why don't you just tell us?

All right.

'Well...

'..Oberon were drunk,

'and he'd been hassling the lads, but...'

'..I could see it were a front.'

You got somewhere?

- Just like that? - Why not?

I knew him from off the telly. My mum likes his programmes.

He gave me his address and I said I'd drop by later.

Your mates, the other wrestlers, they know about your... preference?

Some.

Nobody cares.

I don't know about the last time you looked,

but we get paid to roll about with blokes wearing only our underpants.

Wrestling's just another part of show business,

that's all I'm saying. So long as you bring the crowds in,

nobody cares what you get up to in your private life.

So what happened?

Right, well, me and a couple of the lads went to the drinker

for an hour or so.

I got to his flat about one-ish.

Only, I couldn't get a reply out his flat.

So, I buzzed a few more until somebody answered the door.

He said there'd be a key under the mat if I were late,

and that I should let myself in.

'There was somebody there. I could hear 'em.

'Sounded like... I don't know... ..somebody sawing wood.'

But you didn't see anyone?

'Apart from the dead guy on the floor, no.

'I wasn't gonna hang around and make introductions.'

- So what happened to the knife? - I got rid of it.

- Where? - I stuck it down a drain.

It's where Sloan said it was.

It's the killer's, then.

That was the telephone exchange.

They've run down numbers that called the restaurant.

And two came from the same telephone.

Order two takeaways from The Jolly Rajah...

only 20 yards from the phone box?

Why two calls?

Well, the first is to the bogus address at Mendip Gardens West.

The second to Oberon Prince's flat at Tiffin Court.

Which means whoever made the calls needed to buy themselves time.

Yeah, they needed to keep Mr Aziz distracted

while they got to Tiffin Court first.

We'll get forensics out.

Needle in a haystack after four days,

but we might get lucky.

Having a take-away delivered to Tiffin Court, but...

it's not much of a plan given that Prince

- had already dined at the restaurant. - You're right,

but our killer didn't know he HAD dined at the restaurant.

- How come? - Because the chief stoker

never leaves the engine room.

Rafiq.

Evening, Mr Sardar. Could you come with us, please?

I can't leave the restaurant in the middle of service.

I'm afraid you're gonna have to, sir.

You were the only person on the staff who didn't realise

that Mr Prince had already been in the restaurant that evening.

You ordered Mr Aziz to deliver a take-away to a man

who'd already eaten with you.

We've also recovered the knife you killed Prince with.

How much were you into him for?

?13,000.

I tried to keep away...

...but the cards get into your skin.

- I broke the golden rule... - Don't chase your losses.

Next time, the hand will be better.

You always think your luck will turn.

And there's nobody in your family that could've loaned that to you?

Loaned?

That was mine by right.

My half of the business. What should have been my half.

The profits.

If my brother had remembered our agreement.

All I wanted was my fair share, 50-50, that is what we agreed.

But your brother went back on his word.

He said, "Don't worry yourself with overheads and loans

"and credit and debit and...

"Just concentrate on the cooking, leave the worrying to me."

You felt cheated?

I WAS cheated.

He said he couldn't remember our arrangement.

He said, "Don't worry, you will be sorted out,

"you will be looked after."

My nephews?

Taking care of their uncle?

Like I am some beggar man?

So you began stealing from the restaurant

in order to pay your debt to Oberon Prince.

It wasn't that your brother was losing his faculties

and getting the sums wrong, you were stealing from him.

What was it, Mr Aziz discovered you?

He saw me.

Did he blackmail you?

No.

He gave me a chance to come clean and tell Uqbah, or he would.

So you came up with a plan to solve all your problems.

Two birds with one stone.

'You kill Oberon Prince, which eradicates your debt,

'and you frame him for killing Aziz.

'So your brother never discovers that you were stealing from him.'

You think it's going to be easy to do this... to someone.

It is easy in your head.

'But with another human being...

'..it is not easy.'

'No.'

One minute, they are a living, breathing creature...

and... and then they're just meat and bones.

It's a bad thing I have done.

A wicked thing.

And I feel ashamed for it.

It is one thing to know yourself to be weak...

I am a gambler. I am a thief.

...but it is another thing when the people you love...

know what you are.

I gave in to temptation.

How could I ever look them in the eye again?

I had no choice.

What could I do?

Look...

- What you said earlier... - I was speaking out of turn.

No, no.

Maybe you're right.

All this with Carl Sturgis.

You just get obsessed sometimes.

I'll let it go.

All well, is it?

With you?

Always.

See you tomorrow.

'For a better Oxford and a better Britain...

'vote Archibald-Lake. Vote Conservative.

'A vote for the Conservative Party is a vote for a better tomorrow.'

Whatever the result tonight,

you can see what happens when you mix their culture and ours.

Not 24 hours since, we lost a foot soldier.

A good patriate.

- Young Gary Rogers. - Radowicz!

Gerwazy Radowicz.

Mrs Radowicz...

He was my boy.

You killed him. Just as much as they did.

Filling his head with all this.

We all did.

My only brother stealing from me.

And killing... poor Mr Aziz.

- If only I had... - It'll be all right, Baba.

It'll be all right.

I'll make sure he's looked after. He can come and live with us.

Us?

Me and Ilsa. We're getting married.

- So, when you leave... - We're staying.

All this anger, all the violence, and all this hatred?

In the end, it defeats only itself.

And burns itself out like a stubble fire.

We'll see Baba's looked after between the both of us,

and Salim will take over the restaurant.

With my help.

A good husband always listens to his wife.

As you'll find out.

'Ten o'clock.

'The polling stations have just closed,

'and if the exit polls are to be believed,

'we are in for a very tight night, and a remarkably close contest...'