All language subtitles for Endeavour.S07E03.Zenana.1080p.BluRay.x264-OFT

("The Four Seasons"
by Vivaldi playing)

("The Four Seasons" continues)

("The Four Seasons" continues)

MAGDALENA:
Admit men
into our women's college?

You would invite the wolf
inside the citadel?

We cannot underestimate this.

The barbarian is at the gate.

Within this college,
we are safe, we are free.

Beyond the pale,
we are neither of these things.

We are prey.

("The Four Seasons" continues)

MAX:
Broken neck.

There are wounds
adjacent to the jugular.

Bruising at the trauma site
suggests the attacker sucked

or attempted to suck her blood.

Still think we got him?

MORSE:
It doesn't mean that...

THURSDAY:
It means maybe
you're not so smart

as you like to give out.

We have a passerby
heard someone whistling

along the towpath
last night.

"Antonio," would that be?

Oh, oh, Antonio,
he's gone away.

STRANGE:
That's right. Why?

(metal clatters)

STRANGE: In here!
THURSDAY: Carl Sturgis,

I'm arresting you for the murder

of Bridget Mulcahy.

CORONER:
Examination of the ladder

upon which he stood

shows that it was old
and in poor repair.

There are no suspicious
circumstances pertaining.

And accordingly,
I record a verdict

of death by misadventure.

Ave

Maria

Gratia

Plena

Maria

Gratia plena...

MAGDALENA:
It's not helpful to
reopen the debate.

NANCY:
They're just requesting we
speak to the student body.

I just don't understand why
they're asking us again.

Of the nearly 40 colleges
in Oxford,

only five are open to women.

Five.

And yet, the faculty
are once again

entertaining the idea
that Lady Matilda's

should open its doors to men.

I say, no. No, no.

Maggie.
No. I'm sorry,

Warden.

This is a place of women,

and its precincts
should remain inviolate.

It's just a straw poll, Mags,
of the student body.

Advisory at best.

Advisory?

Well, this is my advice:
drop the idea.

Because I promise you

I will fight any attempt to make
this college coeducational.

I will fight it
to my last breath.

Ave Maria

There were grounds to believe
that the person responsible

for the murder at Corax House

also killed the barmaid
Molly Andrews

on the towpath at New Year,

as both women were known
to that individual.

It was the flasher
threw us off the scent.

Tony Jakobssen
had his throat cut.

Completely different M.O.

Of course, it's now clear
that Jakobssen was got rid of

because he'd strayed onto
the killer's hunting ground.

It's all very well,
the Yard picking over our work

with the benefit of hindsight.

Important thing
is Carl Sturgis is on remand

at Farnleigh Prison
awaiting trial.

He can do no further harm.

That's what matters.

We got him in the end.

We'd have got him a deal sooner
if we'd been listened to.

Morse meant well, of course, and
his record speaks for itself.

I'm not suggesting
any repercussions for him.

Not for a moment, no, but...

we invested too much faith
in his abilities.

Backed his instincts
too wholeheartedly.

We gave him his head.
Overindulged him.

He was wrong.

SANDRA:
And it was a week before he was
due to walk me down the aisle.

The past year,
it's all he talked about.

(sighs)

It was no one's fault--
that's what the inquest said--

But I can't help
but blame myself.

How's that?
Money.

We've never been well off,
but he did want to make it nice.

The wedding.
He was working all the hours.

Sold his big car
for something smaller.

He even cashed in a couple
of life policies he had.

He was alone when the accident
happened, is that right?

Yeah.

The pulley went
on the block and tackle.

Dad had been saying
it needed replacing,

but... just never
got around to it.

These, uh, freak
accidents of yours,

I've taken a look.

There's nothing there
as far as I can see.

No grounds for opening
an investigation, leastways.

Really?

None of the deceased
were known to each other

and there's nothing
that links them.

Well, I'd like to keep at it.

Not really our place
to go looking for work, is it?

Not when there's real cases
going begging.

Well, I think
these are real cases.

Then we'll have to disagree.

We all make mistakes sometimes,
get things wrong. Even you.

Is that right?

No shame in it.

Just makes us be double sure
of a thing next time.

How did you know
about the song, "Antonio"?

How did you know that's what
the passerby would have heard?

Because that's what I heard
when I followed Sturgis.

That's what he was whistling?
That's what
I heard.

That's not the same thing.

I lost sight of him
and I heard the whistling.

So, it could have
been someone else.

No, it couldn't.

We have four people
can stand him alibi

the night his girlfriend
was killed.

Four people can put him
at that New Year's Eve party

until the early hours
of the morning.
They said they did.

Not to mention the taxi driver
that dropped him off

and picked him out of a lineup.

It's past debate now.

Is it?

Then how could he be
in two places at once?

It was him.
Why? Because you say so?

That's right.
Well, what about evidence?

What about Molly Andrews's
crucifix, for example?

We've turned his place
upside down

and we couldn't find a thing.
Not a thing.

It's Sturgis. He's been charged
and there's an end of it.

Well, I hope you're right.
Really, I do.

But I think a jury
are gonna want

more than your gut
when it comes to court.

And I'm not wrong.
These freak accidents?

They are connected.

Make believe
you loved me, darling

Make believe you cared

Make believe you need me...
(door opens)

Ah. About time.

You're there

Make believe
my heart's not broken

Make believe it's true

Make believe
you love me one day...

(laughs softly)

I don't think I'll ever quite
get used to this place.

It's not as if I can come
to your house.

He might drop by.

Five months--
she should be back soon,

shouldn't she?
Your friend?

New Year sometime.

What does she do again?

She's a dancer.

Where?

Some discotheque in Beirut. Why?

Does it matter?

(laughs):
No, I don't suppose so.

"Come in, number 23.
Your time is up."

Mm. What's that?

Oh, nothing.

It's something they say
on the boating lake

when you've had your hour.

You know how it works.
(sighs)

Ludo and I might be away.

Did I say?
For Christmas.

Cortina d'Ampezzo.

Skiing.

Nice.

It won't always be this way.

Well, we will have to tell him,
sooner or later.

The longer
it goes on...

It would kill him.

We're all adults.

These things happen.

It's nobody's fault.

It's funny.

I think it's you
he'd mind losing.

Far more than me.

(laughs)

(birds squawking in distance)

(phone ringing)
WIN: I'm sure you'll have made
plans of your own,

but you're very welcome to have
Christmas lunch here with us.

Oh, you're here, are you?

I didn't hear you come in.

Joan should be home.

Thursday.
And we're hoping that, uh,
Sam might get leave.

When?
You know,
it's nothing extravagant,

Where?
but it's just enough food
for everybody.

And the children
get out a game or two,

for after the queen and...

Fred has a doze in
front of the big film.
Right.

We've got to go.

I haven't done your sandwiches.

They'll have to keep.

Mrs. Thursday.

There's been another one
along the towpath.

(door opens)

Sir. Morse.

Cyclist found her
about an hour and half ago.

Undergrad from Lady Matilda's,
looks to be.

Name of Petra Cornwell. 19.

Her digs are a quarter mile
up the towpath.

Anything from
witnesses, passersby?

Nobody's come forward as yet.

Nobody heard the,
the whistling or...?

As I say,
it's too early.

Doctor?

Time of death between

eight to 12 hours.

At first glance,
cause of death

would appear to be
asphyxia by means of

manual strangulation.

Not like the
last one, then?

Well...
No blood.

No blood-drinking.

That's something,
isn't it?

I mean, that,
that's something?

Let's not.

How's that?
Let's not what?

Oh, it doesn't matter.

No, no. Let's
not what?

Well, let's not clutch
at straws to save our blushes.

Three women, one man.
It's the same killer for all.

Whoever killed Molly Andrews
killed this young woman.

Oh, yeah?

You'd like that to be true,
wouldn't you?

Show me up, "The old man's
losing his touch"-- that it?

What... I didn't,
I didn't say that.

You don't need to.

But before you get
all high and mighty,

let's not forget
you had all this down

for Naomi Kane's killer.

Yes, I know.

But if we're being honest
about it,

it comes to something
like this,

you've never really had that
much touch to lose, have you?

Morse...
Well, it's true.

This is what I get, is it?

I've stuck my neck out for
you more than you know.

Yes, of course you have.
Who wouldn't?

With bank robberies,

car thieves,
yeah, there's no one better.

But something that demands
a little bit of intellect,

or a little bit
of finesse, then...

Arrogant, conceited...

Gentlemen!

You will conduct yourselves
with decorum and the solemnity

appropriate
to this situation,

or you will find
some other place to stand!

You want to
carry on like that,

you find yourself
another pathologist.

Am I understood?

Max, I'm sorry I...

Am I understood?

Then we shall say 2:00.

STRANGE:
That's the face we want to show
the world now, is it?

Washing out our dirty smalls

in front of respected friends
and colleagues?

God almighty, what's the matter
with you?

Well...

I hope you're both pleased
with yourselves.

I'll put in for a transfer
soon as this is over.

Banbury or Kidlington.

I think we've taken it
as far as we can, you and I.

Yeah, I think that's
about right, for the best.

You said McNutt
is at Kidlington.

Maybe you could put in
a good word for me?

Oh, my word's good enough
for that, then?

You want to be on your way,
don't stay on my account.

I'm not,
I'm staying for her.

And for the rest
of them.

But don't worry, soon as
this is over, I'll be gone.

Fair enough.

I'll get a patrol car
back to the nick,

report to Mr. Bright.

You can talk
to her college, right?

(exhales)

Dr. Byrne.
Yes?

I'm Detective Sergeant Morse,
Thames Valley.

I have it from
the admissions officer

that you are tutor
to a Petra Cornwell.

I am.

What? What is it?

I am sorry.
Are you?

Then why can't
you stop it?

Well, we try.
Well, try harder.

These are your
friends doing this.

Your brothers,
fathers.

She was just lovely.

Beautiful and...

clever.

And kind, just...

Just lovely. I...

I don't know
what to say.

Maggie? Love, what's wrong?

Hey.

What's going on?

It's the police.
There's...

I'm sorry, I can't say it.
It's all right.

I'm afraid an undergrad
has been found on the towpath,

beneath
Port Meadow Bridge.

It's Petra.

Petra Cornwell?

Wait a minute, I thought
you'd caught the Towpath Killer?

He's in prison,
isn't he?

Four victims across
the last 11 months.

The first,
Molly Andrews,

was found here
on New Year's Eve.

The second, whom we now
believe to have been killed

because he was queering the
Towpath Killer's pitch,

was Tony Jakobssen, a cook
from the Working Men's Club.

Third

was Bridge Mulcahy
at the end of June.

She was killed

here, on the way home
from her boyfriend's.

So far, she's the only one

with this
blood-drinking business.

Now we've got this undergraduate
from Lady Matilda's,

Petra Cornwell.

No blood business there?
THURSDAY: No, sir.

Untouched,
in that regard.

WOMAN: No way.
(indistinct chatter)

MORSE:
She lived in digs.

Yes. With two other girls,
I think.

What's this?

The faculty has decided
to hold a referendum.

Whether Lady Matilda's
should admit men to college.

Will it pass?
Over my dead body.

I'm sorry, that was a dreadful
choice of words.

I will need to speak
to her flatmates.

Of course.

Did she have
any enemies?

Any that you know of?

She was a pretty,

19-year-old woman

with a happy disposition,

and not a malicious thought
in her head.

Does that
invite enemies?

MAGDALENA:
It certainly
invites attention,

of a kind that isn't
necessarily welcome.

Sorry, how's that?

Petra made a formal complaint
last month, about a fellow

at Corax House.

It's a scientific department,
it's attached

to Cardinal College...
Yes, I know it.

What was the nature
of the complaint?

And about whom?

I was just helping her down
from a ladder.

She said you grabbed her breast
and made a lewd comment.

It's just
a misunderstanding.

She had big knockers,
you know, proper Hindenburgs.

Anyway, she span around
on this ladder,

and one of those things
collided with my hand,

and all I said was,
so as not to embarrass her,

I just made light of it;
I said, "Well, you don't get

many of those for the pound,
do you, love?"

And that didn't improve
the situation?

Oh, did it buggery?

Uh, it was
a joke, man.

Only she didn't see
the funny side, did she?

And made a mountain
out of a molehill.

But what do you expect?
These bloody Matildabeests.

Stuff they fill their heads
with these days.

Card carrying members

of the comfy shoe brigade,
that's what they are.

And where were you
last night, for the record?

Well, I wasn't on the towpath
giving Petra Cornwell what for,

I can tell you that.

It's awful
what happened to her.

Truly. I wouldn't wish it
on my worst enemy,

but... nothing to do
with me.

Sir?

Sturgis's lawyers have called
for the case to be dismissed,

and for
his immediate release.

Neither Division nor the Crown
will oppose the request.

(chuckles sardonically)
Today...

of all days.

Sir?

(inhales)

My wife returns
from the United States.

Any news on how
the treatment went, sir?

Well, it was experimental,
but, uh...

we're hopeful.

It is him, sir.

That's not
how Division sees it.

We have to face
the facts, Thursday.

We got it wrong.

Desperately,
hideously so.

We got it wrong,
and the Towpath Killer

remains at large.

I've lost my job,
my livelihood.

My name's been dragged
through the mud.

The police knew
I hadn't done it,

but they went through
with this whole charade.

Do you mean to take action
against them?

I've spoken to my solicitor,
Mr. Vholes,

and he's advised me that
I'm reserving my position.

And what makes me sick

is that while they had me
locked up in prison,

the real Towpath Killer
has been free to strike again,

and that's unforgivable.

I just hope they catch him
this time. Thank you.

REPORTERS:
Mr. Sturgis...

(reporters shouting questions
indistinctly)

He's not wrong.
But you were.

The boyfriend
of the first victim?

He always seemed
too obvious to me.

Mm, and he had
an alibi.

So I've been told.
Your freak accidents,

it's a no go,
I'm afraid.

People have accidents,
people die.

What do you
want me to say?

I don't know,
that I'm not going mad.

That there's something
to my story.

That you
haven't given up.

Have you? Given up?

I don't think
you're going mad.

Well, that's a relief.

Because I think I've found more.

So I started to wonder
if it was something

just happening here in Oxford,

or if there was something
further afield.

And?

And I turned up nearly
a dozen fatal accidents

in Dover and Uttoxeter
in the past year.

Off your patch, I thought it
might be worth a look.

This is Oxford, though.
I was at the inquest.

A Mr. and Mrs. Jones.

They'd only had the balcony
painted a week or two before.

MORSE:
Did anybody see him fall?
The wife.

She was crossing to
the car, just below,

he came out
onto the balcony

to wave her off.
It gave way.

Insurance found the bolts
had rusted through.

They had no reason to think
it wasn't an accident?

Well, I can't imagine
they'd have paid out otherwise.

Oh, why?
Did she get much?

He left her
looked after,

but it'd be a different story
if it had been her who fell.

How's that?

Their son had
got into debt,

so she sold her life policy
without telling her husband.

Right. And if
she'd gone off the balcony,

then Mr. Jones
wouldn't have earned a thing.

Not a sous.

Right.

Miss Tate?

I wondered if, uh, I might
talk to you for a moment?

(latch opening)

I went to
the Working Men's Club,

they said you were
no longer there.

I couldn't.
Not after everything.

You were very brave.

No. I'm bad luck.

No, I'm sure
that's not the case.

I wondered if I might
have a word with you.

Yeah.

I just wanted
to ask you

about what happened
with Molly Andrews

on the towpath at New Year.

You didn't see anything...
No.

...with Tony?

No. I said.

I just want to put
all that behind me.

What about the second girl?

Bridget Mulcahy.
Did you see anything?

Anything at all?
I just...

just want to be left alone.
Please.

Another girl was killed
on the towpath last night.

Did you see something?

There's nothing I can tell you.

All right.

Okay. I'm sorry to have
troubled you.

What's in there?

Nothing.

Nothing.
Please don't.

Don't go in there,
please.

Please don't.
It's all right. It's all right.

(breathing heavily)

What is it?
Is that what you see?

I thought if I could
get it out...

out of my head,
it would stop.

But it hasn't.

And what's the tin foil for?

To keep it trapped.

"It"?

Him.

(shuddering)

Who is he?

He comes when I'm not looking.

I can smell him first.

Like a... burning smell.

Then I'll catch him out of
the corner of my eye.

But if you turn too quick,
he disappears.

I know he's not there.

He can't be.

But he must be, mustn't he,
if I can see him?

What, can you see him now?

(whimpers)

Miss Tate,
there's nobody there.

(loud roar)
(cries out)

It's all right.
It's okay.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.
There's nobody there.

(whimpers)
There's nobody there.

(exhales sharply)
There's no one there.

(shudders)

I'm really concerned
about your well-being.

I don't think you should
be here alone.

Is there anybody
I could call?

A family member or...

No, no, no.

No, there's nobody.

Please don't tell
anyone about this.

I don't want doctors.

They've put me away before,

and I know what those places
are like.

Please.

(whistling bird call)

(bird chirps)

There, now. There.

(cat mewls)

Get out if it before you get
my toe up your arse. Getcha!

(alarmed cry)

(bird chirping)

All right, all right.
It's all right.

We grew up in a big pub.

Huge. On the corner
of the street; four floors.

On Sundays, in the afternoons
after closing,

Cousin Kevin would have us all
play hide and seek.

Only "I Like Necks"
he called it.

'Cause if he got you,

he'd hold you down and pin a big
fat, wet raspberry on your neck.

Making out it was all
a big joke and a game.

I don't think it was,
altogether, a game.

Not to him.

He'd count to a hundred,
and we'd all run off

and find somewhere to hide.

I hid in my aunt's
wardrobe once,

and it was all fur coats
and that.

Stoles you call them?

Ones made out to look
like foxes

or some other animal.

Their paws hanging down.
Glass eyes and wire.

There was this handbag smell,
stale.

Perfume and lipstick
and old sweets

mixed up with mints
and cigarettes.

Hello? Let me out.

Somebody must have
shut the door

and turned the key because...

I couldn't...

And I screamed and screamed
and screamed till I was gasping.

I must have inhaled
a feather or some fur.

I sucked it in gasping
and I... (gasps)

...couldn't breathe.

Next thing I...

...wake up in my bed,
and it's gone tea time.

I can hear them in the bar
downstairs opening up.

Must have fainted.

Or had one of my turns
that I have.

Where is he now?

Kevin?

Dead.

They all died.

There was a fire.

I was the only one
to get out.

A fireman found me, but...

everyone else died.

There. There now.

Oh...

Oh, I'm happy to be home.

I have missed you,
Puli, so much.

And I you, my dear.
And I you.

Was it very bloody?

Desperately.

But Dr. Schneider says
the indications are good.

The X-rays show shrinkage
in both lungs.

He's hopeful the treatment
may have triggered

some kind of remission.

That's wonderful news, my dear.

Just... just wonderful.

(both laugh)

(cheerful melody playing
on TV)

(music stops)

(indistinct voices on TV)

(TV chatter continues)

Fred...

I warned her.

That's the thing of it,
I warned her.

Warned who?

Bridget.

A day or two
before it happened,

I was down the towpath

she was gonna meet
her boyfriend on.

I got talking to her.

Told her she shouldn't
be walking

on her own down there.

Should have stuck to my guns
from the off.

Well, why didn't you?

People thought different.

What people?

(opera music playing)

LUDO:
Sorry, I should have called.

Not at all, not at all.
Is everything all right?

Yes.

Do you have something to drink?
Of course.

Wine or...
Whiskey, if you've got it.

Yes.

What's all this?

Oh, um, that's work.

Looks very gruesome.

Catalogue of bizarre accidents?

MORSE:
Well, maybe.
Maybe not.

If they're not accidents,
then we have something

very sinister on our hands.

So, what is it?
What's wrong?

Oh...
(sighs)

You're my friend,
aren't you?

I mean, I like to think so.

I need your help.
Advice.

About what?

My wife.
It's mad, I know,

but she's...

these past few months...

I think she's seeing
someone; someone else.

What gives you reason
to think that?

She's been... I don't know.

Since we got back from Monte,
something's changed.

But you were in Antibes
over the summer.

How was that?

Twin beds.

She says I snore.
I don't snore.

Well, have you spoken
to her about it?

(sighs):
I'm afraid.

What does one say?

Well, I'm afraid I'm...

I'm the last person
you should ask about this.

I'm sure it'll be all right.

Give her some time
to think about things.

You know,
give her some space.

Yes. Yes, perhaps you're right.

Thank you.

You're a good friend, Morse.

(engine starts)

TEACHER:
Carry on, girls.

A few more laps.

STRANGE:
Aye-aye. Looks like
I might've

gotten you out on
a wild goose chase, mate.

Accident. Right, Doc?

Looks that way.

She's come up the

library ladder for something,
to the top of the bookcase,

She's reached for whatever
she's reached for.

The ladder slipped...
(woman cries out)

...and she's fallen and
struck her head

on the bust.

Just a freak accident?

I noticed the brake
on the casters

appeared somewhat unreliable.

What time of death?

About midnight.

And everything was just
as you found it, was it?

Exactly as you found it?
Yeah.

Why?

MORSE:
Does she have any family
that we can inform?

JULIET:
Both her parents are gone,

and, uh, she was an only child,
unmarried.

So I believe
she made provision

for her estate to come
to the college.

MAGDALENA:
There won't be much.

Her house is heavily
mortgaged,

and whatever insurance
and savings she had

went on the deposit.

How's that?

She redeemed a couple
of policies--

life and annuity--

To make what she had
to put down on the house.

Is there any news on Petra?

Oh, I'm afraid not.

Well, whoever he is, he's
taken his last Matildabeest.

If you can't keep us safe,
the village will defend itself.

Uh, I wouldn't advise taking
matters into your own hands.

We'll do whatever we have to,

but I swear,
no more of us will die.

Morse!

What's all this?

There's, um,
there's been an accident.

A-A fatal accident.

What you doing here?

We have an appointment
with the bursar

to discuss a charity concert
for Ludo's foundation.

Ah.

But perhaps this
isn't the best time.

Sir. Um, Detective Chief
Inspector Thursday,

this is Mr. and Mrs. Talenti.

Ludo, please.

Ludo?
That's right.

Like the game.

It's short for Ludovico,
but yes, exactly that.

And what are they
to do with here?

Uh, nothing, sir.

Mr. and Mrs. Talenti
are just friends of mine.

They're here to see the bursar.

Well, if you'll
excuse us.

Detective Chief Inspector,
Morse.

It was lovely to meet you.
Madam.

Well?

An accident, apparently.

She fell from a ladder
whilst reaching for a book.

So, where does
"apparently" come in?

The lights were off.

Hard to look find a book
in the dark, I'd have thought.

You think someone turned
them off after she'd fallen?

No, I think it's one of Dorothea
Frazil's freak accidents.

We've been through that.
There's nothing there.

Just as likely, whoever found
the body or whichever uniform

was first on scene, not that
you'd get them to admit it,

but it happens.
Well, it shouldn't.

Well, it does.

You can't build a case that
someone's going round Oxford

killing random strangers out of
one light switch not being on.

Anything from the towpath?

No.

Matter of fact,
I think we've probably

got enough bodies on that.

I spoke to McNutt.

He's got a spot on his firm
comes free after Christmas.

Wait.

You're taking me
off the towpath case?

Yeah.

(laughs softly)

Well, there we are.
Ah, well, you can't.

If you want to catch him,
then you need me.

I need someone I can stand on.

I am a bagman, not a yes-man.

I'm here to keep you
on the straight and narrow,

and tell you when I think you're
barking up the wrong tree.

That is my job.

Not anymore.
I'm appointing Siddle bagman.

You're off, I need to get
someone else house-broken.

No time like the present.

Right.

"Misanthrope."
30 across, 11 letters.

"Like Scrooge,
he rouses phantom's ire."

I was saving that.

No, you weren't.

You were stuck.

Anything more
from the bundle I gave you?

(speaking indistinctly)

Well, I've been going
through Dover

and Uttoxeter,

but I've just come
from Lady Matilda's.

I think we've got another one.

Dr. Nancy Deveen.
Fallen from a ladder.

(Dai laughs)

That pub fire I called you
about, did you get anything?

Uh, nothing that mentioned
a Jenny Tate.

I did find a report from 1949.

The Wolf's Head at Watlington.

Three children--
two girls and a boy,

orphans-- living with an aunt,
an uncle, and a cousin.

What happened?

All killed,
bar one of the little girls:

Phyllis Linden.

Suspicion was that
she had set the fire.

Charges were never brought,
but she was found to be

severely disturbed and...

put away.

Yeah.

Well, she could've changed
her name, I suppose.

Wouldn't you?

Anyway, it's all in there,
everything I could find.

Now if you'll excuse me...

Mm.

I'd better get over to Lady M's.

Keep me posted.
Right. I will.

Thank you for this.

(birds chirping)

(whistling "Molly Malone")

Come on!

Come on, ladies!
Murderer!

Bastard!

Don't let him get away!

(shouting)

(horn honking)

(tires screeching, loud thud)

(exhales)

BRIGHT:
Who is he?

Man called Clemens, sir.
David Clemens.

Works at the Morris plant.
Keep-fit fanatic.

Clemens. Why does that name
seem familiar?

He found the first body.
Or so he claims.

Molly Andrews, the barmaid.

His flat is a virtual museum
to the crime.

Newspaper cuttings
all over the place.

How is he?

In a coma.

(exhales)

Are you all right?

Yes.

No.

I don't know.

It's all just, uh...

I was fine, and then...

that whistle.

It must have been
the last thing Petra heard.

Now a ghost wheels
her barrow...

(humming)

(exhales)
It's horrible.

(crying)

Well, we did it, matey.

I think "we" is stretching it.

Whoever did it, it's done.

"In Dublin's fair city."

That's what Clemens
was whistling,

according to Dr. Byrne.

"Molly Malone," not "Antonio."

Why do you think
that is?

Oh, no, no, no.
Oh, no, you bloody don't.

If he was whistling
something else,

it's because he
changed his tune.

Just go home and get
some sleep, all right?

(phone ringing)

Morse.

LUDO (over phone):
It's Ludo. I need your help.

Why? What is it? What's wrong?

I've booked a table at
Augusto's for 1:00 tomorrow.

I'll see you there.

Right.

Right.

See you tomorrow.

I see you were on
the George Fontayne case.

Boy went missing
from Pierton in 1949.

Oh, yeah.

We did a review of it for County
ten years on in '59.

Kidnapping, it was assumed,

though no note ever came
and the kid was never found.

Anyone suspect?

The usual.
Child molesters and the like.

We pulled them in again
during the review,

but it didn't
go anywhere.

What do you think happened?

Somebody took him, most likely.

Or he drowned.

Lots of waterways round there.
And he liked to play out.

Canals and rivers
were dragged at the time,

but without success.

What's your interest?

Just something I'm looking at.

Thought you'd be down the pub

with the rest.
Lukewarm draft

and a handful of backside
from the typing pool? No thanks.

Let them enjoy themselves.
We got our man.

We didn't get him.

I don't think there's anything
to celebrate.

But I'm sure they'll be rutting
in the streets by daybreak.

They don't need
any encouragement from me.

Maybe the way they let off steam
is a bit loud, a bit vulgar,

but at least you can tell
they're alive.

You stand there

and you look down
your nose at everyone.

You're no better
than any of them.

I didn't say that I was.
You don't have to.

It's the way you
carry yourself.

Nobody's good enough.

No, there was one person.

But he lost his way.

You've leave outstanding.

Upstairs would like you
to take it before you go.

You don't have to come back in.

You should've
appointed Strange bagman.

Think I didn't ask?

(dog barking)

(rustling)

(humming)

(electricity crackling)

(roars)
(screams)

What a very smart man I married.

You look terribly dashing.

My dear, you were
never lovelier.

Oh, I think I was.

Not to me.

And I should know.

Shall you be long?

Just trot up to division,
statement to the press.

Back in time for the 6:00 news
and a lime juice and gin.

(chuckles)

I'm very proud of you, Puli.

I thought I might buy a tree

and get our Christmas
decorations up.

I don't want you going up
into the attic.

There's no need.
I had Robin do it for me.

Robin?

That nice young man
with the faith healers.

He even tested the lights,
and they're working.

Oh, well, if Robin thinks so.

Then I shall nip out
to Richardson's

and fetch you something special
for your supper.

Now, you're not to go
to any fuss on my account.

You've taken care of me
so well this past year--

These past years.

You've always looked after me.

And I always shall.

Good afternoon.

Thank you.

What is it,
what's wrong?

Morse?

Darling?

LUDO:
I ordered champagne.

I hope that's
all right.

A toast,
I think.

What shall we drink to,
friendship?

Love? Fidelity?

VIOLETTA:
Ludo.

LUDO:
Quite right.

How remiss of me.

Of course, we should
drink to you.

A rose between
two thorns.

My darling wife.

You're not drinking?

What's, um...?

What's going on?

There's no getting anything
past you, is there?

I was visiting a friend
at the Swedish embassy.

He had to take a meeting
with the Minister

of Meatballs
or whatever it might be,

so I thought,
as I had time to kill,

I would call you.

I wanted to thank you
for your recent advice.

But I'm afraid I
told a white lie.

Oh, yes?

I told the officer
at Castle Gate

that I was a Swedish policeman,

who needed to speak to you
as a matter of some urgency.

They gave me a number
where I could reach you.

Only... I was puzzled.

Because it was
a number I recognized.

(phone ringing)

Pronto, hello?

Who is this?

LUDO:
What

was my wife doing at the end
of a telephone number

where I believed
I could find you?

And at an address
known to me.

What was it
you said?

"I'm sure it'll
be all right.

Just give
her space."

So thoughtful.

Such concern.

What a friend.

What a pal.

We didn't mean to hurt you.

Oh, well, that's all right then.

I mean, if you'd meant it,
that'd be different, but...

These things, they happen.

Not to me.

The heart decides.

Does it?

I am sorry.

No.

You're not.

He knows now.

It's over.

You can come with me.

It's finished.

(inhales sharply)

She's used to the finest, Morse.

A policeman...

Please.

I don't love you.

I don't feel anything for you.

I never did.

It was a mistake.

And there we are.

It's for the best...

my love.

Detective Chief Inspector
Thursday, please.

Dorothea Frazil
of the Oxford Mail.

Fred?

It's Dorothea.

Look, um, if this has come
through to you already,

you know what
I'm calling about.

If not...

I thought you'd want
to hear it from me first.

(Dorothea speaking indistinctly)

(indistinct chatter, laughter)

Right.

Wonderful, marvelous spectacle!

The-the elephant
covered in paint,

my wife holding

its tether, absolutely
drenched from head to toe

with water from its
trunk, do you see.

THURSDAY:
If I might speak
to you a moment, sir.

Yes, of course.

In your office, perhaps?

Really?

Well, yes.

Yes.

Yes, of course,
if you, uh,

if you think
that's best.

Excuse me.

Drink, hmm?

Why not?

You know, I always took
a dim view of, uh,

officers who took a drink
during the working day,

but the older I get,
I can see it's a practice

not without its--
It's your wife, sir.

Hmm?

Dorothea Frazil just
telephoned my office.

There's been an accident.

What?
Your wife, sir.

Yes, I know my wife,
Mrs. Bright.

What, what?
What are you saying?

I'm very sorry, sir.

She seems to have been hanging
Christmas decorations.

She, uh...

...looks to have
taken a shock, sir.

An electric shock.

It's fatal, sir.

(stammers)

But...

No, you see, I-I was only

with her at home,

not an hour since--
there must be some sort...

I'm very sorry, sir.

No, she'll be at, at home.

You see, she'll...

I can soon

straighten
this out.

(phone dial cranking)

(line ringing)

It just takes her a while
to get to the phone, you see.

Sir...
It's quite a
way, from, uh,

from one part of the
house to the hall.

That's where we keep the, um...
(line ringing)

...the instrument.

Of course she may
have gone upstairs.

Yes, I'll, I'll call back.

Uh, that's it, I'll...

I'll call back.

I-I wouldn't want her to, uh...

Try again in a few moments.

She'll be there then.

She's not near
the phone, you see.

That's...

That's what it is.

(indistinct chatter)

He's in a terrible state.

I'm not surprised.

What happened?

You've heard.

Some fault with the wiring,
so far as we can make out.

Just a...
What, a freak accident?

Don't start in with
that nonsense again.

Have some respect.

It's not nonsense.
I've looked at it.

It's nothing--
there was nothing there.

There was only nothing there,

because we didn't
know the why of it.

I didn't know the why of it.

But now I do,
at least I think I do.

You're not dragging
Mrs. Bright into it.

I'm telling you.

You want to run
with this rubbish,

do it on McNutt's meter.

You're done here, go home.

(exhales)

(door slams)

So?

What's the caper?

Right.

Let's say you have
an insurance policy worth,

I don't know, 10,000 pounds,

which they'll pay
to your nearest and dearest

upon your decease.
Yeah, yeah, I've got one.

Well, you have to
in this game, don't you?

Never know what's gonna happen.

Cover your funeral,
what have you.

So you pay off your policy
over so many weeks,

over so many years,
and then when you...

Bingo, break out the best
bitter and the ham sandwiches.

But let's say you wanted
a smaller sum in a rush.

3,000 pounds, say.

What you've paid into the policy
so far isn't gonna come near.

So my company comes along,
gives you the 3,000 pounds,

which is more
than you'd get

if you were to simply
redeem the policy.

I give you the money,
you give me the policy.

I continue
paying the premiums.

And then when you die...

You get the 10,000 pounds.

Yep.
Sounds harmless.

Well, it is
if I'm willing to let you

live out your
three score and ten.

But what if I want
a quicker return?

Let's say I buy for 3,000,

and then a year later,
I cash in for ten?

But you can't cash in.

Unless the original
holder of the policy

can be persuaded to die.

Or helped on their way.

Right, so what do we usually
ask in these situations?

Who benefits?
Who gets the money?

Exactly, husband kills the wife,

claims the insurance,
or wife kills the husband.

But what if they're
complete strangers?

They've had
the barest of contact.

So someone's going around
buying life insurance policies.

Mm-hmm.
And collecting on
them by making sure

the sellers die in what,
to all intents and purposes,

look like freak accidents.

Mm-hmm.

So who's behind it?

Well, I don't know, not yet.

How do you want to play it?

Well, I have to take a run out
to Watlington on another matter,

but I've a bundle of these
case files in my car.

And it's been happening
elsewhere-- there was a cluster

in, um, in Leicester
over the summer.

Want to split?

Yeah, what we're
trying to establish

is if the deceased has sold
a life insurance policy.

Then we can work
our way backwards.

(elevator bell chimes)

I'll meet you
at the end of the day,

at a place called
Aspen Park Drive.

It's the closest location
of these freak accidents.

Oh, and Strange?

Thank you.

(dog barking)

MAN:
Oh, I remember Joe and Bess.

They had the tenancy of the
Wolf just before me, uh...

died in that
terrible fire.

I did the odd stint behind the
bar for 'em when I was young.

And what about the children
that were here, orphans?

Ah, Bess's sister's
kids, the Lindens?

Sweet they were.

The little girls,
Phyllis and Doris.

I was never too keen
on the boy, mind.

Johnny, would that be?
That's right.

Yeah, I didn't shed
any tears over him.
Really? How come?

Well, I don't know.
Some kids, don't know...

(chuckles)
You can't put your finger on it,

but he had a nasty streak.

Did he? In what way?

Cruel to animals.

Pets. He blinded
Joe's dog with lye.

Nobody could prove anything,
but that was the talk.

I always thought it was
the Sturgis side coming through.

Sturgis?

Their maternal grandfather.

Old Noah Sturgis.
Bargee.

About as nasty a piece of work
as you could wish to meet

and Johnny was every inch
his grandson.

Hello?

Anybody home?

Yes. What do you think you're
doing coming into my house?

Uh, the door was open.
So, what?

Doesn't give you the right to go
prowling round. Who are you?

Mr. Sturgis, isn't it?

Detective Sergeant Strange,
Thames Valley.

What do you want? I'm clear
of the towpath killings.

Hadn't you heard?
This is harassment.

I'm not here about that.
This is, uh,

another matter.

I-I'd no thought
to find you here.

You've, uh, moved, then?

This your place, is it?

I'm looking after it.

For who?

A family friend.

Kettle's on.

Can I offer you a drink?
Tea or...?

If you're having one.

I never drink tea.

Coffee man, are you?

After my own heart.

Milk and two,
if there's one going.

Sure. Won't be a minute.

So, what's this about?

There was a fella lived here.

Fell off the roof.

Freak accident.

We're, uh,

looking into it.

Trying to trace
any members of his family.

I don't know about that.

Funny that it should be you
living here.

(distant thud)

STRANGE:
Just, uh,

just you, is it?
(kettle whistling)

On the premises?

Yeah. Just me.

(whistling "Oh! Oh! Antonio!")

(door handle shakes)

Here you go.

(door handle shakes)

(distant thudding)

(woman crying)

(shouts)
It's all right. It's all right.
You're safe now.

(screams)

MORSE:
Jim?

Jim! Jim.

You all right?
Get after him.

Where is he? Which way?
(muffled shout)

STRANGE:
It's all right, miss.

He'll get him.

(woman crying in distance)

(muffled shout)

(loud grunt,
both struggling)

(growling)

(Sturgis shouts)

(car doors open, close)

THURSDAY:
How is he?

MEDIC:
He'll come through, sir.

THURSDAY:
Doctor.

Don't do anything by halves,
your boys, do they?

If a thing's worth doing.

I'd sooner
he was alive.

Morse?

With the girl.

How is she?

Physically?
She's lost a little blood.

There are bite marks
to her inner forearm,

but, thankfully, he'd not much
there to get his teeth into.

Mentally?

I don't think
she had far to fall.

He said he was hungry.

I know.
But that's finished now.

The ambulance men
will look after you.

A-A hospital? I don't
want to go to a hospital.

No. No, no. Come on.

It's not, it's not,
it's not that kind of hospital.

He's gone.
It's done.

You're gonna be all right.

You found her.

Oh, Strange found her.

But you put him onto the place.

No. It was blind luck.

What was Sturgis doing here?

The undertakers
that he works for?

Duxbury's.
Mm.

The man who owns the place,
man called Aspen,

Duxbury's looked after
the funeral arrangements.

I can only imagine he died
intestate and the solicitors

are trying to trace
any living relatives.

So Sturgis found himself
a cozy little bolt-hole.

Well, not so cozy.

(squawking)

(chittering)

Remember those
cats going missing

from the start of the year?

Turning up disemboweled?

So that was him?

Then he moved on to people.

Molly Andrews, Tony Jakobssen,

Bridget Mulcahy.

Yes?

Yeah. It was him.

THURSDAY:
That could be Molly's crucifix.

Yeah, it could be.

It's like she was
the practice piece.

He got bolder with Tony,

and more depraved
with Bridget.

But he didn't kill them all.

Not the last one, not Petra.

So that fella in a coma
in the hospital,

the one that attacked Dr. Byrne?

Clemens.
A copycat?

Maybe finding
Molly Andrews's body

sparked something latent in him.

I don't know.

(bird squawking)

(clicks tongue)

So, who was he, Carl Sturgis?

I think he was Jenny's brother,
Johnny Linden.

Uh, there was a fire in the pub
when they were children

in which Johnny
supposedly perished.

Jenny, or Phyllis,
as she was then, got the blame.

But I think
the real culprit was Johnny.

Why?

Well, they seem
to have been tormented

by their older cousin Kevin.

But to be honest, I think Johnny
was already pretty damaged.

He seemed to have a taste
for cruelty to animals,

which I think
graduated to other prey.

George Fontayne.

I think he killed him,

then set the fire to the pub
to cover his tracks.

THURSDAY:
And these, uh, visions

Jenny had of what happened
on the towpath?

How do they fit in?

MORSE:
I don't know.

Maybe she had a mental
connection with her brother.

Hello, Phyl.

You don't remember me.

I'd know you anywhere.

I looked for
you so long.

(whispers):
Who are you?

Have I changed so much?

It's me, sis.
It's Johnny.

MORSE:
Maybe it was a way
of manifesting bad memories.

She may have seen more than
she realized as a little girl.

Yeah. She may.

But it's all theory, isn't it?

Plus gut feeling and a hunch.

What was it brought you here?

You don't want to know.

Strange'll tell you.

When do you start
at Kidlington?

New year.
Fourth of Jan.

Like you said,
it's for the best.

Siddle.

(thunder rumbles)

REPORTER:
The inquest into the death
of Pippa Tetbury, age 23,

of 15 Stamboul Lane, Witney,

today recorded a verdict
of misadventure.

The coroner reached the
conclusion that somehow

Miss Tetbury, a dancer lately
returned from Beirut,

had pulled down
a wall-mounted...

She should be back soon,
shouldn't she, your friend?

New Year sometime.

MORSE:
What does she do again?

VIOLETTA:
She's a dancer.

MORSE:
Where?

VIOLETTA:
Some discotheque
in Beirut. Why?

What does it matter?

MORSE:
"The sum of 2,500 pounds

"was transferred today
into your bank account,

"being the full settlement
hitherto agreed

for the acquisition
of your life policy."

I need to talk to you, sir.

About what?

Mrs. Bright.
What about her?

It's about these freak accidents
of Dorothea Frazil's.

Not that again.
I think I've got
to the bottom of it.

I think it's to do
with life insurance.
What?!

Oh, Morse. Good heavens.
Sir.

We're losing you to Kidlington,
I understand.

Yes, sir.

Uh, yes, sir.

Yes.

My... my deepest
condolences, sir.

Yes. Well, thank you.

Thank you very much.

That's tremendously...

kind of you; I was only saying
to DCI Thursday

how awfully kind
everyone's been.

I, uh...

really didn't expect...

Yeah.

I don't think it was
an accident, sir.

What-what's this?

What-what-what wasn't
an accident?

Nothing, sir.

Did your wife get rid
of any of her financial...

assets lately?

Specifically
her life insurance.

Because if she did...

I fear whoever
bought it from her

may have had a hand
in her death.

(stammers softly)

What do you mean?
What-what?

What does he mean?

Thursday, do you know
what he's talking about?

Not exactly, sir. Morse.

I think she
may have been killed.

I think she
may have been murdered, sir.

(exhales)

How dare you?

(scoffs softly)

What is this?

How dare you?
You come...

in here...
He's wrong, sir.
Of course he is.

Are you gone mad?

Why would you say such a
cruel and wicked thing?

Because I believe it
to be true, sir.

Get out.

Get out of my station.

You have no
business here.

Go on, get out.

I don't want you here.

Murdered.

It was an accident.

Right.
An accident.

I never heard anything
so grotesque-- Thursday,

get him out!
Sir.

(sighs)

You have to be
in the right, don't you?

Have to have the last word.
What's the matter with you?

You want to take a look
at yourself.

I want to take a look at myself?

If you had your mind on the job
and not on this flighty piece,

you might not be
in such a mess.
Sorry, what flighty piece?

I saw you together
in the summer,

parked down by the canal.

I ran the registration.

Car's in her husband's name:
Talenti.

Well...

you had no right to do that.

Maybe not.
But nor had you.

(thunder rumbling)

MORSE:
They come easy, don't they?

The lies, once they start.

VIOLETTA:
I'm afraid.

I can't save you.

Then no one can.

(bells chiming)

Results are in.

The barbarian is denied
the citadel.

(laughs)

You kept them out,
Maggie.

We kept them out.

But for how long?

One day at a time.

See you in the New Year.

(sighs)

Why don't you call him?

Well...

he'll be with his people,
I expect.

(knocking)

Oh, good heavens.

This is a surprise.
Well,

just thought I'd see
how you were, sir.

Christmas and all.
Oh...

I've...

never gone in for it much...

myself.

Carrie did...

Mrs. Bright, but, um,

You should have come to us, sir.

You'd have been
more than welcome.

Yes, you did offer, and, uh...

and it was very kind of you,
but I-I couldn't...

face people, I suppose.

Drink?

Please.
Yeah.

I, uh, went by Morse's.

Oh? Doing your rounds?
How is he?

No reply.
Place in darkness.

Well, if you do see him...

Well, you'll know
what to say.

I wasn't at my best
when I last saw him.

Understandable, sir.

Even so.

He's been very good with me,
past five years,

one way or another.

We didn't get off
to the best of starts,

but I like to think I've...

I've unbent somewhat.

He was right,
you know.

We did redeem
our life insurance policies,

both of us, so we could afford
the trip to America.

I won't have any
of the rest of it, but, um...

...yeah, he was...
he was right about that.

What's this?

It's for our Joan.
Forwarded.

I've opened them
in case they're important.

It's from Morse.

There's a letter.

Go on, then.

"Dear Miss Thursday,

"contained herein are materials

"that I ask you bring
to the attention

"of your father.

"All he needs
to understand

"is here enclosed.

"To my lasting regret,

"we parted on poor terms.

"The fault was mine entirely.

He has ever been..."

I can't.

"He has ever been

"the best and
wisest of men,

"and a better
friend to me

"than I could have
wished for or deserved.

"I let him down.

"I'm sorry to presume

THURSDAY and MORSE:
"upon you, but I've burnt

MORSE:
"all my bridges,

"and you are the last
and only person I can think of

"who might extend to me
the benefit of the doubt.

"Please forgive my brevity.

"I have to make
the boat train to Venice.

"There's never the time to say
all that one would wish.

As you will no doubt hear,

I have made an appalling mess
of things.

Much of it I can't put right,

but I should have failed
even further

were I not to try to retrieve

what I can from a situation
wholly of my own making.

Should I fall short,

and things end badly...

please believe me
to have been...

yours, always...

Morse.

My father took me there
when I was a girl.

And I go back every
New Year's Eve to remember him.

It is my pilgrimage.

Do you believe in sin?

MORSE:
No.

VIOLETTA:
Damnation?

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

(opera music playing)

(man singing in Italian)

MORSE (whispering):
Violetta?

What do you want?
What I want?

I want an explanation,
Senora Talenti.

If, if that's even
your real name.

I mean, I know that your
presence wasn't required

to stand up all
of these freak accidents

in every particular.

What do you want me to say?

I want you to say
that you're sorry.

That's what I want you to say.

Of course I'm sorry.

I tried to tell you
so many times.

I told you I was afraid.

You remember? In the car,
when you met me that first time

alone in Oxford.
No, you didn't
say that.

You didn't.
You said that you were scared

of losing something good.

I was frightened
to tell you the truth.

How could I?

The terrible things
he made me do.
Oh, come on.

You don't understand.
Spare me.

I had to.
He would have killed me

if I hadn't
gone along with it.

Morse...

No. Don't, don't do that.

It's done.

That's finished,
that's, that's over.

If it was ever even true
to begin with.

Anyway, I'm here
to take you both in.

It's Ludo you want.

I can give him to you.

And I will.

But if I do that,
you have to give me 24 hours

before you come after me.

If we ever meant anything
to one another.

(woman singing opera in Italian)

(opera continues)

(opera continues)

(opera continues)

(opera continues)

Well, well,
what a pleasant surprise.

How was it
to be, Morse?

Was she to betray me
with a kiss?

"24 hours." Wasn't that
your squalid little bargain?

Her price
for selling me out.

What have you
done with her?

Oh, please.
Such drama.

Fear not.
She'll be along.

Wouldn't want her
to miss the end.

This is the end.

I'm here to
take you in.

Aren't you
forgetting something?

We are beyond
your jurisdiction.

Well, you can tell that
to the Italian police

while I'm organizing
your extradition.

(chuckles)
Tell them what, exactly?

About the people
that you've killed.

I've killed no one.
My hands are innocent of blood.

Spotless.
Just like my conscience.

Buying
the life insurance policies

was
my little wheeze, certainly.

But it was fate
spun the wheel...

with a little help from
my glamorous assistant.

We all have our entrances
and our exits, Morse.

Our parts to play.

Even you.

Why? What was my part?

You were
my useful idiot.

My pet policeman.

Enough. Enough.

Do you want to see her
alive again, or don't you?

I gave them a chance,
all of them.

If the glazier had maintained
his pulley?

If Aspen had taken better care
of his ladder?

And Mrs. Bright?

As a matter of fact,
I quite liked her.

MORSE:
You knew her?

LUDO:
Of course.

Had to be on the inside

to gain access
to their decorations.

Oh...

thank you.
Rest.

It's 50-50, Morse.

Always.
(bell ringing)

Oh-- they're closing
the cemetery.

And there we are,
right on cue.

Violetta?

LUDO:
You really don't
have a clue, do you?

She's a fraud, Morse.

Every word she's ever
told you was a lie.

When I found her, she was 15,
living barefoot

on the backstreets
of Naples.

I've given her
the world.

You don't even know
her real name.

Ah!

Put the gun down, Morse.

On the floor.
Put it down.

You won't do it.

Once, perhaps,
you would have been right.

You were meant to be
my creature, not hers.

And then you went and spoiled it
all, didn't you, my darling?
Ah!

Put the gun down!

Please.

All right.

All right.

(opera singer continues)

Just let her go.

Ah!

Come on. If we're going to get
the last boat.

LUDO:
I should have done for you
in England,

but she convinced me
that a dead policeman

wasn't in our best interests.

You said we were going
to let him go.

It was just a warning,
that was the promise.

That was the plan.

Plans change.

No!
(gasps)

(gunshot)

Violetta...

(opera singer continues)

I'm sorry...

I'm so sorry...

Shh...

Drop it.

(opera singer continues)

(opera singer continues)

I've done terrible things...

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

It was true...

Us...

Always.

Ti amo...