All language subtitles for S08E04.The.Wench.Is.Dead

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Often the drop didn't work,

and the hangman had to yank
on the feet of the condemned.

When was the last one,
Dr Van Buren?

The last public execution in Oxford
was in 1863.

The condemned man was...

Noah Austin.
Killed his girlfriend's father.

Right. But the most famous
public execution was in 1860 -

the Oxford Canal Murderers.

Special trains ran from London.

10,000 people
were outside Oxford Gaol.

More than they get
for Oxford United.

The Oxford Canal Murder.

The victim was a respectable
married woman named Joanna Franks.

She was travelling from Coventry
to London to join her husband

via the Oxford Canal on this
Pickford fly boat, the Barbara Bray.

'Early one morning in June 1859,

it passed Prince's Lock, near here.'

'Minutes later,
her body was found in the water.'

'The police investigated.'

'The detective force
had been founded.'

Their skills were legendary.

Dickens loved to hunt crime
with the detectives.

It was proved that Joanna Franks
had been killed by the boat's crew,

who were tried at Oxford Assize.

And in 1860,
two of them - Oldfield and Musson -

swung on the public gallows.

No, thank you. I won't.

Are you quite all right, Morse?

Ah! Our distinguished speaker.

Very erudite, Dr Van Buren.

Well, thank you.

Hardly put my forebears to the test.

I agree. If the case were tried now,
they'd reach the same conclusion.

It was an open-and-shut case.
There's no such thing.

They had no forensic science then.

Victorian detectives
may not have had modern science

but they knew about human nature.

Meaning we don't?

Now, Morse...
You're Morse? I want to talk to you.

Would you... excuse me,...

Dr Van Buren?

Was it something I said?

I doubt it. Pardon me, Dr Van Buren.

Morse?

Oh my God.

All right, Mr Morse.

Come on, man! Quick!

Lift on three. One, two, three.

Get a surgical registrar!

Come on now, Mr Morse. You're
very ill - I hope you realise that.

And I need you fast asleep.

Just what is wrong with me?

We can't tell you yet. A consultant
will examine you in the morning.

Now, off you go, Mr Morse.

Liver's enlarged.

Do you drink a lot, Mr Horse?

Morse.

Not much. I like a glass of beer.

And how many of those a week?
-A week?

I'll make it easier. How many a day?

Two or three.

Spirits?

I sometimes get a bottle of Scotch.

And how long does it last?

Depends how big the bottle is.

Statistically we discount
the sex exploits of diabetics

and booze intake
of the middle classes.

But we can't discount
the state of your abdomen.

You said liver.

That too, if you stay on the booze.

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

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

At best,
a peptic ulcer that's bleeding.

At worst... a cancerous ulcer
that needs some serious surgery.

We had a quick look last night,

but I need to do an endoscopy
and take a biopsy. Nurse!

Tea or coffee, Mr Greenaway?

Gin and tonic, please.

Ice and lemon?

No ice. It spoils the gin.

Endoscopy? I had that.

Now they're cutting me up on Friday.

Are you a relative?
He said he didn't have any.

Actually, I'm a doctor.

Oh. Right you are, then.

Hi, there!

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

Feeling better?

Dr Van Buren. No, I'm not.

I thought I'd come and visit you.

I said I was a doctor.

You are.

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

I brought you a book. If you're
going to be in here a while,

you might need
a little reading matter.

Criminal Detection
In The Victorian Period,

by Millicent Van Buren.

You. How kind.

The Oxford Canal Murder.

Ah. The open-and-shut case.

Read that, and learn that it was.

And are you flying home now?

Not yet. I'm writing my next book.

Your Institute of Criminology
has great archives.

Oxford has too many scholars
and not enough policemen.

Right. Which is why
I was curious to meet you.

Excuse me.
Who is that with Mr Morse?

She says she's his doctor.

No, she isn't.

Are you a friend of Morse's?

Millie Van Buren. Boston University.

He promised
he'd check out my research.

Isn't he sweet?

Isn't he just?

Oh, Morse...

Why on earth didn't you let me know?

You know I'd have come right away.

You were still in Carlisle.

How is your mother?
Much better, thanks.

I go away for a month
and you do this.

So, how are you?

It's a case of mistaken identity.

Sure (!) Looks like it.

What are they doing to you?

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

And then they decide
whether to carve me up.

I'm sorry, Morse.

You must be worried sick.

I am.

But they are
looking after you properly?

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

I saw her.
A doctor's dream, isn't she?

A monster Scots Sister
called Nessie.

I met her.
Does she come from around Loch Ness?

Bottom of it, I should think.

You know what this means, don't you?

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

Don't be ridiculous.

I've seen it coming.

But you're their best detective.
I was. Look at me now.

Come on, Morse.

Oh. Is this what that woman -

Do you mind? I need his buttocks.
I'm sorry?

Injection. Would you be so kind?

Right.

And I've got two off now!

Lewis is on his inspector's course,
and now Morse is in hospital.

We've a drugs bust in Cowley.

Sorry, sir.

Constable, don't go away.

I'm short-handed to start with.

Morse's illness has left me
completely... you know.

Wrong-footed?
Wrong-foot...

Oh, I've got
quite enough probationers.

I need some experienced detectives
on secondment.

Oh, I see. Well, if you'd -

Hello?

Oh, really!

Kershaw! Do not interrupt me when
I'm talking to the Chief Constable.

Just trying to be useful, sir.
Then be useful. I want some grapes.

And a paperback novel.

Of course, sir. Grapes.

Would that be green or purple?

Oh, green.

No, no. Purple.

Half a pound? A pound?

Oh, use your initiative!

You're the fast-track graduate.

DR VAN BUREN: 'Early on the morning
of June 22, 1859,

a woman's body was found
in Prince's Cut,

a basin
on the Coventry to Oxford canal.'

'As the boatman Philip Tomes
would say in evidence later,

he had moored his narrowboat
up canal from Oxford

when he noticed something
in the water.'

'A woman's blue gown.'

Hey, mister! Look down here!

Right, Mr Morse.

Down you get.

Now, sir. You're an intelligent man.

I'm sure you can assist me.

See this long tube?
I need you to swallow it.

Why?
So I can look in your stomach.

If you co-operate
I won't need to sedate you.

And if I can't? You'll miss the fun
and remember nothing.

How long is this going to last?

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes?!

I think we'll sedate him, Nurse.

Her drawers are all torn, Doctor.
This weren't an accident.

And severe discoloration
to the face.

Did you men see what happened?

She was floating in the water.

She came out with her face black?
Yes, sir.

And none of you knows her?
No, sir.

Did you see anyone there?
Pickford fly boat. The Barbara Bray.

A big gentleman was on the bank.

Constable, you should telegraph
the police to detain that boat.

Moor up, lad! Moor up!

What's this, fellas?

Who's captain here?

Me - Rory Oldfield.

How many crew?
Three and a boy. Two shifts.

Get the others out of there!

What the devil is this?!

Have you lost a passenger?

Off her head, she was. She fell off.

Where is she now?

Jumped off at Filbert Lock.

In the water?

No, onto the towpath.

Constable, a lady's trunk here.
And shoes!

Better moor up properly,
Mr Oldfield.

Cos I'm having the four of you
taken to Oxford Gaol!

What for?

The woman's dead, as you well know!

This is a murder matter now.

Wasn't so bad, was it?
Just swallowing that tubing.

That's not
what you need to worry about.

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

Fit enough for a visitor, Mr Morse?

I... think so.

Hello, Morse. Bearing up, are we?

Trying to.

Have you got a temperature?

Everyone's got a temperature.

Not like that, they haven't.

Look, I just wanted to say
that we're all most... you know.

I-I brought you a few things.

I see up there it says
'Nil By Mouth'.

Purely precautionary.

Is it? I bought you a few grapes -

I'll take those.

This hospital has rules. We want
Mr Morse to get better, don't we?

Yes, Sister.
He can't if you don't follow them.

Er, no, Sister.

And don't stay long.

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

What else did you bring?

A single malt.

I don't suppose this...

In here. I won't touch it until...

Oh, right.

Oh, and a little light reading.

PC Kershaw chose it.

He's a university man, like you.

'His eager hands moved
down over her scanty knickers.'

Thank you, sir.

Morse,
it's time we had a serious talk.

I've seen this coming for a while.
Seen what coming?

What is it?
The drinking. I tried to warn you.

You mean you want me out.

You're ill, man.

You'll have to have a medical
after this, so...

Why not take an early retirement?

Who says I won't get better?

Why stay? It's all changing.

Let the new generation take over.

You mean Lewis?

Let's have no sour grapes over him.

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

Go with dignity.

You're the best detective
in all Thames Valley.

Quit while you're ahead.
It's my life! I've given it all -

You'd be taken care of.
Pension, benefits.

I am not taking early retirement.

I want that to be quite clear, sir.

You may have to, Morse.

Rory Oldfield, Alfred Musson,
also known as Brotherton,...

Walter Towns,
also known as Thorold,...

you are severally charged that
on or about the 22nd of June, 1859

you did wilfully murder
Mrs Joanna Franks.

How do you plead?

Not guilty, my lord.
Not guilty.

Not guilty, sir.

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

In the arraignment
four men were charged.

One a boy, my lord.

Excluded by reason of age.

And the charges of theft and rape?

Withdrawn to expedite justice.

Very well, Mr Williams.
Proceed with your opening.

Time enough, Mr Morse.

I was told not to bring you food.

Yes. I'm still Nilled By Mouth.

Thank you!

So,

how do you feel?

Fine.

The consultant should have
the results of the biopsy today.

Yeah.

I'm solving a murder.

It looks like someone's
beaten you to it - in 1859.

Can you find out what the rail fare
from Coventry to London was in 1859?

Morse! How would I -
Start at the Bodleian.

No. The National Railway Museum
might be a better bet.

You really are serious?

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

I know, I know. But why?

I mean, it was 140 years ago.

Indeed. And two men were
publicly executed as a consequence.

Morse, you are ill. Maybe seriously.

I'm preparing my students
for a recital.

I'm trying to look after you

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

And now you demand my help
to rewrite history.

I am beginning to suspect
that a gross miscarriage of justice

occurred in this city in 1860.

And I am determined to discover
if this was the case.

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

whom the Christian religion
has hardly touched,

are charged with murdering
a young woman, Joanna Franks.

'A good and respectable woman,
twice married and unfortunate.'

Rory!

Captain Oldfield!

Yes, mister?
A passenger, if you've room for one.

How far?

All the way. London.

Is that her?

We'll take her, hmm? Be a pleasure!

You could have waited, couldn't you?

What a time to choose!

I had to strike
while the iron was hot.

When nature
had brought it home to him.

He told you, then?

He rang me as soon as you left.

He was very distressed -
as you might expect.

So... you two are... erm...?

Ah.

Morse always did fancy clever women.

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

But we're very good friends,

and I greatly care
what he's feeling.

He's worried sick.
Can't you see that?

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

I didn't know you were so poetic.

I'm not. My mother used to say that.

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

And it's a new world out there.
New police practice.

It's all
crime prevention initiatives,

computer detection,
restorative justice.

What does that mean? Offenders and
victims talking to each other.

Some Californian thought of it,
I expect.

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

I can't stand it, frankly.
And nor will Morse.

I can get him the best
golden handshake, pension...

You can't expect him
to see it like that.

He's given his life to his work.

Can't you make him face it?

Not if he doesn't want to.

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

We both want him to go graciously.

Yes, of course. But does he have to?

Look. I'll try.

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

What?
The Oxford Canal Murder.

The Oxford Canal Murder?!

But that was 150 years ago!

I know. But he's determined
to investigate it.

And he needs professional help.

Look, it's out of the question.

I'm two men down as it is.

I see.

Well, I'll tell him what you said.

About going graciously.

You like reading, do you?

Sorry?
I said, you like reading, do you?

I'm listening to music.
Not this music.

When's that consultant coming
with those results?

When the tests are ready.

And how are we today?

Not good.

But this is. Very good.

Very good but...?

But you simply accepted the verdict
of the Victorian court.

Because she was poor and respectable

and they were the lowest of the low.

Well, they were drunk when arrested.

Well, doesn't that worry you?

If you'd just drowned a woman,
would you just go on drinking?

I wouldn't. They might.

The evidence was on the boat -
her opened trunk, her shoes.

She'd never have left them.

But if you'd done it,
wouldn't you get rid of the shoes?

But her clothes were torn.

There were theft and rape charges.

Why were those charges dropped?

Because
if you can hang them for murder,

why bother
to jail them for rape and theft?

Unless the charges wouldn't stick.

How far to Oxford?

From Coventry, 36 hour.
One night on board.

Can I steer?

If you're willing to run the deck.

Oooh!

'Her first husband
was a music-hall entertainer.'

'The Great Donavan,
Emperor of all illusionists.'

She assisted him on the boards
until, alas, he died, in Ireland.

Her husband left her destitute.

She then married Charles Franks,
a good but poor man.

He left Coventry
to work in London as an ostler,

that his new wife might not starve.

When he had saved one sovereign,

he sent it to his wife
that she might join him.

She sought
the cheapest means of transport.

Not the railway train,
not the stage.

No, alas.

She chose that boat...

on what would be her final journey.

Good day. I thought you might like
the results of your biopsy.

Thank you.

Well?

There's not a lot we can do.

What?

There's no need for the knife.

I shan't be
carving up your insides.

Thank heavens for that.

You are seriously ill.

Severe peptic ulcer, non-cancerous
but undoubtedly worsened by drink.

Prognosis: not bad. But only
if you change your modus vivendi.

Change what, exactly?

Guzzle less of the beer and spirits.

Not just now but for years ahead.

At least I have years ahead.

Thought you didn't?
Good. Might make you listen.

You'll need drugs, plenty of rest,

and a dietician
will advise you on a managed diet.

Turnip juice.

Have you had a drop yet?

Of turnip juice?

Tissue paper is always the giveaway.

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

And certainly around Sister Maclean.

She'd confiscate it?
No. She'd drink it with you.

I think we can dispense with this
for now.

When can I go back to work?

Don't even think about it yet. First
we have to get you out of here.

Someone to take care of you.

I gather it's good news.

Strange.

Ah, Miss Cecil.

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

Tell him how pleased I am.

How is he feeling now?

Much better. But he'll have to
take it easy for several months.

Yes.
A very delicate thing, the stomach.

You know that conversation we had?

Have you discussed it with him?

No. Have you thought again
about what I said to you?

No, he hasn't forgotten at all.

He'll be off sick for a while,

and this Oxford Canal case
is very important to him.

Tell him I can't possibly.
We have no-one to spare.

Yes, yes, I know but...

Room service, sir.

Hang on a minute.

Kershaw?

Don't go away.

Yes?
Ah. Looking for a Mr Morse.

Except... I don't know him.

Try the one with his nose in a book.

Kershaw?
That's right, sir.

You're a graduate entry?

Yes, sir.

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

You're not enjoying police work?

I'm supposed to be fast-track.

Instead,
I'm the Chief Super's tea boy.

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

Heard of the Oxford Canal Murder?

No, sir. Recent, is it?

It was 140 years ago.

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

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

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

Seems likely. Wasn't it
Bow Street runners then?

It might help if you knew
the history of your profession.

The Met started in 1829.

By 1846, Scotland Yard
had its own detective bureau.

There was a detective force
in Oxford.

Not much good, as far as I can tell.

What would you like me to do, sir?

For a start, find out the train fare
from Coventry to London in 1859.

Right.

Is that first, second or third?

Single, return,
regular or excursion?

All of them.

Thy will be done, sir.

And the fare by stagecoach,
and the fare by canal.

How long
are you going to be in hospital?

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

They had to work seven days a week.

They couldn't go to Sunday service
so they were considered heathens.

And they were boatmen,
not bargemen.

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

Mr Stevens, you're a canal clerk,
employed at Tooley's Yard, Banbury.

Tell the jury
what happened on June 21st.

S-Sir?

The Barbara Bray docked.

'With a woman passenger.'

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

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

Don't you mean Banbury to London?

That's what she said.

Did she not ask about other ways
to London? Why was that?

She... talked about rude ways
and drunkenness within the crew.

Is it common
among that class of men?

It's known for boatmen to sometimes
broach the cargo and get inflamed.

It's called corkage, sir.

Yet you did nothing?

I offered.

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

And the boatmen?
You didn't even rebuke them?

I thought she'd fend for herself.

'I saw her go back to the fly boat
looking content.'

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

You said Mrs Franks returned to
the boat after making the complaint.

'But you thought quite willingly.'
LAUGHTER

'I felt so.
That's why I didn't report.'

'When the boat departed,

she was... laughing
and drinking with the crew.'

'I-I'm very sorry, sir.'

Feeling better now you're eating,
Mr Morse?

Much.

Now,
you tell me why a respectable woman,

who has just complained
of being harassed by men,

would then drink with them.

You'd be surprised.
It's called human nature.

Don't keep reading all night.
It disturbs everyone.

Hannah McNeil,
potwoman at The Barge Inn.

Yes, my lord.

I am not your lord. He is your lord.

You undressed the body, I believe.
Tell us what you saw.

Well, sir, she was much disarrayed.

Bailiff, show the dress in evidence.

Is that the selfsame dress
the lady was wearing?

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

The second exhibit, bailiff.

Yes. Those were her drawers,
ripped right open.

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

You mean... raped?

Mr Sgt Williams,
that is not a charge here, is it?

No, my lord.

Then do not answer, Mrs McNeil.

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

Continue.

What can you tell the court
of her shoes?

She weren't wearing any.

No.

They were found later,
were they not?

In the passenger cabin
of the Barbara Bray.

Too far again, sir. Too far.

Good God, woman!
Haven't I taken enough?

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

I'm sorry, Dr Van Buren.

Jackson's Oxford Journal 1859 is out
already. That young gentleman.

Thank you.

'You were travelling up canal
through Prince's Cut...

and saw the Barbara Bray?

Yes. But not clear.

'Sounds as if the crew
were quarrelling, like.'

Walter! Get up here!

Thomas! Thomas!!

What happened there?
I dunno, Cap'n.

Was you having her?!

No. I was just looking for -

Don't touch anything!

Soon after,
you saw something in the water.

A dead lady, in a blue dress.

How did she appear to you?

Her face was black and discoloured.

SICKENED MURMURS

Quiet here!

Mr Williams, we have no evidence yet
of the identification of the victim.

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

'Did you see anyone
besides the boatmen that morning?'

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

Anyone else?

A man on the bank, walking.

Can you identify him?

'No, sir. A sturdy man.
But it was a thick mist.'

Do we know
who this man was, Mr Lyons?

No, my lord. He hasn't been traced.

Hello, there!

Um... Hi. Excuse me.

I know it's very un-British
to do this,

but I couldn't help noticing
we're working on the same thing.

Are we?
The book you were using -

I'm Millicent Van Buren.

Ah, yes! It's very good.

You're a research student?
A policeman.

A tea boy, really.

The man on the river bank - Favant -
why was he never found?

There was an appeal
in the newspapers but...

It was pretty impossible to trace a
passing stranger in Victorian times.

Originally, four men were held.

Why do you think
they only charged three?

In those days a prisoner
couldn't testify in his own defence.

Nor could he be cross-examined.

So the boy's testimony was crucial.

Don't tell me
you think they didn't do it.

If they didn't, who could have?

No-one else was ever suspected.

Morse is working on instinct.

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

Thomas Wootton of Rugby,
15 years of age.

You know you must be honest?

Yes, sir, or I'll be in trouble.

Tell the court what you recall

of the behaviour of the boatmen
on that journey on the Barbara Bray.

'There was lewdness, was there not?'

'Yes. She did go in the cabin with
Mr Oldfield. I could hear them.'

'What could you hear?'

'You know, sir.
The noise of a man and woman.'

Did she protest at all?

I dunno, sir.

Very well.

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

Where were Musson and Towns?

Asleep in the crew cabin,
I think, sir.

You think, sir,
but you don't know, sir?

I heard Towns snoring.

Musson was interested in that trunk.

In the lady's trunk?

The lady's trunk.
He thought there were money in it.

Some 50 sovereign, he said.
Did you ever see this money?

She was poor.
I never thought she had any.

Where was Mr Oldfield?

Astern, sir.

'He did go to the passenger cabin.'

'With Mrs Franks?'

'Yes, sir.'

Thomas, is this Filbert Lock?
Aye, ma'am.

I have to get off. Call of nature.

Don't worry. I'll catch up.

She got off. Was she wearing shoes?

Yes, sir.

Did she get on again?

Must have, sir, but I didn't see.

The Captain
ordered me below to sleep.

Did you ever see Mrs Franks again?

No, sir. Never again.

How did her shoes
return to the boat?

Must have come back, sir.

Did the Captain return to her cabin?

I don't know. I went fast to sleep.

He's lying!

What happened next was known only
to the three prisoners in the dock.

Yes, sir.
You can't say

what became of Mrs Franks.

No, sir.

Did anyone say what became of her?

Captain Oldfield said she got off.

Musson reckoned she jumped in.

In the canal, you mean.
What do you think happened?

The court is not concerned with what
the witness thinks, Sgt Williams.

She drowned, sir.

Didn't she?
She did indeed.

Thank you, Thomas.

Thomas,...

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

I shall try not, sir.

What kind of a woman was Mrs Franks?

A pretty woman, wouldn't you say?

Yes, sir. Sometimes she was happy,
sometimes she was sad.

Sometimes she was kind,

sometimes she seemed... crazy.

Not in a normal state of mind,
you mean?

Dunno.

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

But in earlier testimony,

you said she went ashore and you saw
the others go looking for her.

Now you say you know nothing
because you were asleep.

I was, sir.
Must have been wrong afore.

You must have been wrong afore.

How do we know you're right now?

I am right now.

You're lying, aren't you?

No, sir. What about?

Did you go into the passenger cabin?

No, sir, I didn't!
Did you look for money?

No! I never thought there were any!

You wouldn't lie to save your skin?

No, I wouldn't, sir!

Wouldn't you?

Thank you.

Kershaw? What are you doing here?
Sorry about the late hour, sir.

No. No, I'm glad to see you.

I went to the Bodleian and found -

The evidence of the boy.
There's something about it.

Sister! Sister!

He told the court what he was
instructed to. But by whom?

Nurse! Call the crash team!

Right.

Crash team?
Third floor. Nelson Ward.

Emergency cardiac arrest.

I... think I'd better...

Charging. 200.

I'll see you tomorrow, sir.

And... clear!

And again. 200. And... clear.

Up to 360.

It makes one...

Yes. Yes, it does.

After all this...

I know.

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

You have, but never mind.

Remember your tablets.

I will. Thank you.

Come along, Morse.

Bye. Good luck.

Thank you too, Sister Maclean.

Take your medication regularly
or you'll be back here in days.

Same goes for the diet sheet.

Rest essential.
Don't try returning to work.

Back in a week to see Mr Benfield.

Yes, Sister.

Oh, and you nearly forgot... this.

Ah.

Keep it, Sister, to remember me.

Ooh, no. Far too tempting.

And... er... this.

Now we know what you like to read.

Look after him, Mrs Morse.

Wasn't there
a small confusion there, Morse?

The wife, you mean?
Mm-hm.

Not of my making.

You didn't tell them
I could look after you?

No. I can manage. I don't expect -

I have to get back to my mother
in Carlisle -

No, I know, I know. I understand.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.
Ah. You must be Miss Cecil.

Can I help?
And you must be Mr Kershaw.

Could you push him for me?

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

Must I?

'I think it frets
the saints in heaven to see

'How many desolate creatures
on the earth

'Have learned the simple dues
of fellowship

'And social comfort, in a hospital.'

Who said that?

No idea, Morse. But have you learned
the simple dues of fellowship?

I hope so. Do you know, Kershaw?

Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

Take it as a warning, Morse.
No-one is immortal.

The graveyard's full
of 'indispensable' men.

Nice of you to be so concerned, sir.

What's this?

Details of your pension.
It's pretty good.

And you have good life insurance.

I don't intend to retire yet.

Well, the police surgeon
may decide otherwise.

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

You will at least admit I'm good?

Yes, but you can't go on forever.
None of us can.

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

Like what?

Er... Crosswords?

Reading. All this.

All this what?

All this music. What is it?

It varies, but this is
Mozart's Clarinet Concerto.

There you are, you see.

What do you make of him?

Kershaw?
Mm-hm. Too clever by half?

He's been very good
getting me settled.

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

All right. Just a few more days.

But you'll ruin the lad, involving
him in all this ancient nonsense.

You are Mr Charles Franks,
ostler of Edgware Road, London?

I am, sir.

The court appreciates
your unhappy state, Mr Franks.

But in the interests of justice,

recount as best you can
the fate of the woman you married.

Yes, sir.

My wife... Joanna...

remained behind in Coventry
when I went for work in London.

But after a few months,

I saved a sovereign
and sent it to her to join me.

She wrote me to say
she was coming by canal.

Ten days passed
and she hadn't arrived.

I set out to look for her.

When I reached Oxford...

I read in the newspaper
of a local inquest...

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

I went to the mortuary...

only to have my very worst fears
confirmed.

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

You are sure, Mr Franks? The court
must be clear on this point.

You did say 'disfigured'.

Oh, I was sure. It was Joanna.

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

A mark only a husband would know,
my lord.

Then you were shown shoes.

Shoes found in the forecabin
of the Barbara Bray.

Yes, sir. I knew them at once.

They were hers.

Her favourite shoes.

What's in it?
Egg, sir.

I think it's called an omelette.

Omelette just means a thin plate.

It's the same word as amulet.

Yes, sir.

In your courses, has anyone told you
the first principle of detection?

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

The basis of detection, Kershaw,

is to keep asking why.

Why did she go by boat?

I don't know.

In 1859, ten trains a day
ran from Oxford to London

from competing railway companies.

They were driving the canals
out of business.

A free market, then,
so fares were cheap.

16 shillings, a single
from Oxford to London.

For a poor woman that was a fortune.

If you rode first class
with the gentry.

Yes, Kershaw.

What about third?

Six shillings.

From Coventry,
it was two shillings more.

And how much was the fly boat?

Four shillings.

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

and been in London in a day.

Doesn't make much sense, does it?

I suppose not.

And why did she drink
with the bargemen? Boatmen.

And why get off at Filbert Lock?

Probably to go to the loo.

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

And why were the trunk ropes cut?

And why were her shoes
left in the cabin?

This is very good, Kershaw.

Thank you, sir.

You could have put more cayenne in.

And why was her face
black and disfigured?

I wondered about that.

The indictment said
she'd been choked and drowned.

They didn't have
forensic pathologists then.

What was the medical evidence?

There was the report from the doctor
who examined her - a Dr Willis.

And later the mortuary doctor.

Where are they?
Check the medical archives.

Accredited research student?

Accredited policeman.

So, what do you want?

I'm told you keep evidence here

from Victorian trials in Oxford.

It was moved here from St Aldates'?

Yes. Now it's a research archive.

What about medical records?

Those are
in the Medical Records Library.

And evidence and trials in 1860?

Over there,
where it says Assize 1860.

I have to go back upstairs.
If you need me, just call.

'Constable Harrison,

you said you went to Iffley Lock
to seize the Barbara Bray.'

'What did you find there?'

'A lady's trunk, in the passenger
forecabin. Its ropes were cut.'

'That suggests theft,
yet the charge was murder.'

'The shoes. A lady wouldn't
leave the boat without shoes on.'

If she had to leave it suddenly?

Or decided to drown herself?

Mr Lyons, the medical evidence shows
that her death could not be suicide.

But it is not proof that these men
committed her murder, my lord.

'Sirs, the men in the dock are
illiterate men, irreligious men.'

'Lewd men who drank to excess

and drank cargoes
they were meant to guard.

But they have not
confessed to murder.

Nor is it proven.

No witness was found,

no firm evidence given
to fix their part in this crime.

You heard the testimony
of the boy Wootton.

He said he did not see
the woman's final moments.

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

But if these men were guilty,

would they not dispose of them?

No, Mrs Franks died that morning.

But we know no more than
that she went ashore,

where others
may well have committed the crime.

What are those?

Victorian panties.

Mind if I borrow them?

(GIGGLES) They're not your size.

They're for Chief Inspector Morse.

Have you heard of him?

I sure have. But I didn't know
he liked knickers.

Well, he does now.

And all the rest of this.

You'll have to sign for it all.

Well, it looks like
the trunk in the case.

Except the initials are wrong.

Hers were JF.

Maybe she was married before.

That's it.

Joanna Donavan was Joanna Franks.

Married to FT Donavan,
the great magician.

That's why it says FTD.

You're a marvel, Miss Ho.

Do you think so?

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

Indeed.

But consider these points.

It is true that the accused
have not confessed.

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

Although the evidence
of the boy Wootton

is proof enough that there was
much drunken lewdness.

You may ask yourselves
why these men, if guilty,

did not dispose of
the murdered woman's shoes.

Those she left in the forecabin.

You may conclude that
they were so befuddled with drink

as to ignore such a natural instinct
of self-preservation.

You may also consider...

that if these men are not guilty
of this heinous crime,

well, who else
on or near the fly boat Barbara Bray

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

Gentlemen, you may rise.

Ugh.

Guilty.

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

Have you anything to say?

We are all innocent of that crime.

Mr Towns, last night
you asked for the chaplain.

I confessed unchristian things
happened on that boat.

Improper things.
Resulting in murder.

Not that, sir. Not to my knowledge.

Prisoners at the bar,
you have heard the verdict.

My duty is to pass sentence.

Oh, hi. It's you.

No. No, it's fine.

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

I gather you're putting a team
on the case. I met your Mr Kershaw.

Interesting lad, isn't he?

I was wondering
if I could offer you a meal.

No. No, not in a restaurant.

I have to stick
to a very strict diet.

But...
if you'd care to come to my place...

Of course. I'll bring a bottle.

Oh, sorry. I forgot.

No. No, it's quite OK.

I'll suffer beside you.

About 7:30. Right.

Yes, I finished your book.

At any rate,
the section on the canal murder.

Oh, good. I hope I convinced you.

I think the trial was a travesty.

Three men were sentenced to hang

for a crime
they almost certainly didn't commit.

Do you mind if we...?

Go ahead. Tear my thesis to pieces.

A woman is murdered.

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

No witnesses. They need the boy's
evidence to convict the others.

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

A prosecution case
riddled with contradictions.

A defence counsel
who went through the motions.

An Oxford jury
prejudiced against boatmen.

No proof
of how the crime was committed.

And I think
something else was wrong.

Why drop the charges
of theft and rape?

Because they were minor charges
compared to the murder charge.

It would invite the defence to look
at Joanna Franks's sexual behaviour.

You know what I think?

I think you're just working
on your instinct.

Maybe your sexual instinct.

What?
Sorry, Morse.

If you're going to convince me,

you have to really convince me.

Very well.

Four men are arrested.
Three are sentenced.

Only two are hanged.

Why was Walter Towns reprieved?

It was very dramatic.
He got religious in prison.

He read the Bible, got baptised.
Then...'

The State Secretary,
on my own advice,

as seen fit to grant you a reprieve!

Reprieve, sir?

Your sentence is commuted to
transportation for life!

Nice wheels, sir.

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

I just meant I like the car.

It's a terrific piece of retro.

Terrific piece of retro?
What does that mean?

Postmodern nostalgia.

I suppose you think my interest in
this case is postmodern nostalgia.

No, sir. I'm enjoying it.

Really (?)

What are they made of?

Calico, wouldn't you say?

Home-made, probably,
by a competent seamstress.

Does that help?

So, the tear?
What tear?

No sign of an irregular distension
of the fibre tissue.

You mean... this?

Not a tear. A cut.

A clean, straightforward,
vertical cut.

You mean... with a knife?

Yes. Like this.

What for, do you think?

Well, you're more experienced
in wicked ways than I am,

but I'd say to secure access.

Gain entrance. Get inside.

Rape.

Not sure.

With rape, you'd expect a tear.

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

And the dress?

Cotton, domestically made.

Hem's been lengthened.

Bust... remodelled and extended.

All re-stitched
with needle and thread.

Sounds unusual.
Not in Victorian times.

Dresses were usually handed on.
Weren't they?

Especially in poor families.

It's water-stained, of course.

Morse, are we making proper use
of police time?

Yes. In my view, it's important.

The shoes?

Just shoes. No shoe size, of course.

They didn't have them then.

Local cobbler, I'd say.

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

You're being very economical, Morse.
You usually send me a body or three.

Not this time.

She drowned in the Oxford Canal
in 1859.

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

Isn't that more like suffocation?

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

Do you want me
to do some tests on these?

Please, Dr Hobson.

And if you find anything,
I'm still on sick leave.

So if you could call me at home...

If you want a second opinion,
why not get up on the table now?

No, thank you.

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

Never did like canals.

Always seemed made for bodies.

In Victorian times, they were
the lifeblood of the nation.

The motorways of the age.

Except they were too slow.

They weren't slow.
They were measured.

Things moved
at a more natural speed.

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

Cargo boats,
coal boats, salt boats.

Fast fly boats
with passengers and cargo.

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

And then another boatman
found a body in the water.

Where, do you reckon?
Somewhere here?

What happened?

She was suffocated
and dropped into the water?

Wouldn't somebody have seen?

The fisherman Ward heard a splash
in the mist. He couldn't see.

There was another witness
on the bank.

Who was he?
Donald Favant.

What?

The police thought
he was called Donald Favant.

He booked into The Bear
at Woodstock.

I read it
in Jackson's Oxford Journal.

You could have said, Kershaw!

Maybe she was killed on the bank.

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

Someone on the bank killed her.

But who?

On the bank it could've been anyone.

Shoes, Kershaw.
They were found in her cabin.

The court said
that proved she got back on board.

Yes, sir.

Think about the cut
in those knickers.

Why, sir?
It's the key to this case.

Who was Joanna Franks?

What kind of woman was she?

What were her relations
with those men?

The court didn't go into that.

Exactly.

Where's The Barge Inn?

Where?

The place they carried the body.

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

How about it, Kershaw?

This case is all based on
surmise and prejudice.

Boatmen were drunks,
thieves and rapists.

Ergo, they must have done it.

Sounds like the spirit
of Victorian Oxford, sir.

Oxford was seriously evangelical.

What?
There was a war of town and gown.

Religious students versus the
heathen boatmen. They always fought.

But after this trial, the university
evangelised the boatmen.

The law was changed
to give them Sundays off.

They even built them a chapel.

And it's still there?

It's a double-glazing establishment.

It's opposite the gaol
where they hanged the men,

by the Oxford Canal basin.

They filled that in a few years ago.

Is that a double-glazing
establishment too?

More or less.

It's called Nuffield College.

And how do you know all this?

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

First in History. Keble College.

Would you like another, sir?

Yes.

Yes, I think I will, Kershaw.

And that makes a difference,
does it? He has an Oxford first?

You always were a snob, Morse.

At least he no longer thinks
I'm wasting my time.

You are going to have to face it.

What?

You have to retire in two years.

Why are you putting up
such a fight now?

This trunk belonged to
Joanna Franks, the murdered woman.

And her initials are FTD?

She'd been married before.
A music-hall magician, FT Donavan.

Pass me that paper knife.

Isn't that
valuable historical evidence?

No. I think it's magic.

'The Great Donavan,
Emperor of all the Illusionists,

and his lovely assistant Joanna.'

'See a headless chicken mysteriously
restored to life.' (CHUCKLES)

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

It could have been stolen.
Theft was suspected.

Or maybe the police removed it.

She must have had
other things women carry.

Handkerchiefs, perfume bottles.

Unless she had a handbag
of some kind.

The carpetbag.

What?

It was never mentioned again.
Where did it go?

Rory!

Yes, mister?

A passenger, if you've room for one.

How far?

All the way. London.

You brought my pants back?

I'm keeping them.
Vital evidence in a murder case.

They said you had something for me.

I went to
the Medical Records Library.

Is this what you want?

'Medical report
on Mrs Joanna Franks.'

'Re: Victoria Regina v
J Oldfield and Others.'

'Woman is around 35 years, lean but
well nourished, 5ft 3¼in in height.'

'Preliminary findings suggest
death by drowning.'

'But face congested,
discoloured and black.'

'No other serious injury,
except disfiguring bruise on mouth.'

'Body in full clothes,
but no bonnet or shoes.'

'Drawers torn,
but no evidence of sexual dealing.'

Morse, can you tell me more
about the woman who wore these?

You said she was travelling
by canal boat from Coventry?

Long journey, wasn't it?

A night and a day to Oxford.

Wouldn't she have to get off
for calls of nature?

She did. The boatboy said she walked
along the bank quite a way.

Not in these. They're indoor shoes.
Not to wear on a canal journey.

There's no sign at all
of outdoor wear.

How tall was she?

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

5ft 3¼in.

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

Smaller than now.

A lack of protein in the diet.

A bit smaller? A lot smaller?

Don't know.

I can find you the height of Jack
the Ripper's victims in the 1880s.

They were all measured.

And what were they?

4ft 9... 4ft 11...

That sort of height.

Except one - the one they called
Long Liz because she was so tall.

And she was 5ft 3.

Well?

This dress. It was made bigger, to
fit a woman of at least that height.

And look at the size of the shoes.

Yes, they're very small.
Nobody mentioned it.

'Face congested,
discoloured and black.'

That's suffocation, Morse.

So how was she identified?

Her husband, ten days later.

After further severe deterioration.

Yes.

He identified her by a birthmark
behind her ear.

Interesting woman,
your Joanna Franks.

She was tall, but had small feet.

She drowned, but she was suffocated.

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

She was robbed,
but nothing was taken.

You're looking much better.

I feel it, Dr Van Buren.

So, where are we going?

Summertown.

Hm, sounds lovely.

Why?

So you found out something new?

I believe I have.

It's here somewhere.

Ah, yes. Here it is.

'To the memory of Joanna Franks,
wife of Charles Franks...'

'Who, having been assaulted,

was tragically drowned
in Oxford Canal June 22, 1859.'

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

Er... Not exactly, miss.

I'm sorry?

The memorial was moved.

This isn't the original graveyard.

Do you know where
the original grave was?

Doesn't the church have a record?

I doubt it. Is it important?

Suppose an exhumation was required!

You'd have to pull all them down.

The church sold the main graveyard
for building years ago

and moved the headstones over here.

Oh, dear (!)

I suppose it will all
have to remain a surmise.

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

Just a minute.

Kershaw!

Doesn't the undertaker's record say
something about a provident society?

Coventry Mutual
Provident Society and Burial Club.

Of course.

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

Will you try and find out, Kershaw?

Sounds pretty difficult, sir.

Trace the records!
You're an historian, aren't you?

Morse, just what
has to remain a surmise?

Oh, that a tall woman
who wasn't Joanna Franks...

was buried in her grave.

Hmm.

Is that the Hong Kong Macao Bank?

This is Thames Valley Police.

We're making criminal enquiries,

and I want to trace
a life insurance policy.

It's with the Coventry Mutual
Provident Society.

Yeah. Long before your takeover
three years ago.

Thank you.

You're not still trying
to get me to tear up my book?

I'm just asking you
to consider another possibility.

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

But was she really 'poor Joanna'?

She was murdered,
for goodness' sake.

Are you sure of that?

What is the linchpin
of a criminal trial and conviction?

Correct identification
of the victim.

So?

Everyone in court assumed
the victim was Joanna Franks.

By her husband, the ostler.

And no-one else.

No parents, brother, friend.

She didn't have any
that were available.

And none of the boatmen.

Right. But there was Charles Franks.

Who came up from London
over a week later.

Looked at a corpse
in an Oxford morgue.

The face was black, disfigured.
The body had deteriorated.

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

There was, wasn't there?

'Joanna Franks. Died 22 June, 1859.'

'Paid in £8.10s.'

'Beneficiary: Charles Franks.'

'Policy paid in full - £300.'

'February, 1861.'

What now, Kershaw?

Checking your PEPs and TESSAs?

Er... No, sir.

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

Mr Kershaw!

Hello, Susan.

And it's Adrian.

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

Yes, I can be.

All right.

What really did happen
in the Oxford Canal Murder?

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

After ten pages, I can see that
things just don't hang together.

Thanks (!)
With the investigation.

Oh.

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

That's noble of you.

Because nothing in court
makes sense.

Come on, Morse. What's your point?

Her clothes suggest that she's tall.

But her shoes are small.

Her... garments...
are tampered with.

But where, and by whom?

The boatmen.

Sure?

Let's start at the real beginning.

'When she got on the fly boat
at Coventry with her sovereign.'

'Yet for eight shillings
she could have gone by train

and been with her husband in a day.'

'Why take the fly boat?'

'She was poor. It was cheaper.'

'Not much. The railways were trying
to drive fly boats out of business.'

'Then,
according to evidence in court,

she went aboard
with a trunk and a carpetbag.'

'We've seen the trunk, but we never
heard of the carpetbag again.'

'It was never mentioned again
in court.'

'Why?'

'We're told she objected to
the drunken behaviour of the crew.'

'But she was drinking with them
herself.'

'And Towns says she was
leading them all on, even the boy.'

'In Banbury,
she complained to the clerk.'

'But what really happened?'

The crew of that fly boat,
they're drunken and lewd!

I... I'll speak to them, ma'am.

How long do coaches take
from London?

There's no more coaches
till tomorrow.

I could find you cheap lodgings
tonight here in Banbury.

I'll wait till Oxford.

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

'Why not?'

'Because there was never a problem.'

'She was the one
leading the boatmen on.'

It was an illusion.
The stage was being set,

and Joanna the mastermind.

For what?

Tell Dr Van Buren
about the insurance.

For £8 Joanna had taken out
a life insurance policy

with the Coventry Mutual
Provident Society

worth £300.

For her, ten years' wages.

She'd got the boatmen besotted
with her.

Especially Thomas. She needed him
for what happened next.

No. What you think happened next.

Night fell.
They were getting near Oxford.

Hello, my pet.

'What did happen in Filbert Lock?'

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

Thomas, is this Filbert Lock?

Aye, ma'am.

Remember what we said.

You'll tell no-one where I've gone?

No, I won't, ma'am.

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

Is that you, my dear?
Shh! Hurry, dear. She's in the cart.

You brought the dress and drawers?

You said she was tall so I let down
the hem and slit the drawers.

Who was she?
Better you never know.

It's a dreadful thing.

It's done now. We can't go back now.

But I don't want to see.
No need. Ride up front with me.

She's just some unhappy nobody.

We're here. Hay Lock.

You'll get back on all right?
Yeah. The boy'll do anything for me.

Here's Prince's Cut.
You know what to do.

Stay under until it's safe.
Let no-one see you climb out.

The cart will be at the bridge.
Lie down in it.

I'll be along as soon as I finish.

Now get down. Time I drove on.

Here. Take these two sovereigns.
You hide 'em.

Ma'am...

And come to me soon.

'She must have given him money
to keep his mouth shut.'

I think the police found it
and thought he'd stolen it from her.

Why didn't they charge him?
They needed his testimony in court.

Rory!
What?

What the devil were that?!

Thought someone jumped in the water!

Walter! Get up here!

Thomas! Thomas!!

What happened there?
I dunno, Cap'n.

Was you having her?!

No, I was looking for -

Don't touch anything!
Where is she?

Dunno! Damn and blast that whorish
woman! She's crazy off her head!

Look for her!

Get out of my way!

'And all Franks had to do was
turn up in Oxford ten days later

and identify the unknown corpse.'

You are sure, Mr Franks? The court
must be clear on this point.

You did say 'disfigured'?

Oh, I was sure. It was Joanna.

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

A mark only a husband would know,
my lord.

'And the case against the boatmen
was complete.'

So who was buried
in the grave in Summertown?

We'll never know now.

And who is Charles Franks?

The man who collected the insurance
a year later

and was never seen again.

Neither was Joanna Franks.

I suppose they went away together.
Maybe America. Who knows?

You should write novels, Morse.

Can't prove a single word, can you?

Most of it.

The prosecution case never held up.

The woman in the grave
isn't Joanna Franks. And the rest...

is just the most logical view
of all the evidence.

The best way through the maze.

Exactly.

I'll have another, Kershaw.

Make it a full pint this time.

I'm sorry I couldn't convince you.

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

What about a revised edition?

Well, I still think I was right.

And I think I was right.

Oh, Morse...!

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

A creative fiction. Admit it.

You know how Charles Dickens
defined a good detective?

As a conjurer.

I brought you a present.

Criminal Detection In The Edwardian
Period, by Millicent Van Buren.

Signed.

Thank you.

A little light reading matter.

Goodbye, Morse.

Well, well.

She's... returning to the States.

Good.

Er... Morse?

Hey, let me take that.

No, no.

Know anything about cricket?

What's the clue?

'Bradman. Famous duck.' Six letters.

Forget cricket. Think Disney.

Is it Walt?
Who's the setter?

Quixote.

Even neater.
What was his first name?

Don. Oh!

Donald, the famous duck. Of course.

Oh my Lord...

What?

Don.

Don Favant.

It's an anagram!

I'm sorry?

Don Favant...

FT Donavan.

Emperor of all the Illusionists,
the greatest man in all the world.

The Bertnaghboy Bay Wonder.

Where is Bertnaghboy Bay?

West of Ireland.

'I understand perfectly.'

You've come to Ireland
for a spot of holiday grave-digging.

Some holiday, Morse (!)

I'm not sure of the right channels.
I need permission for an exhumation.

Nobody's bothered about a body
from 150 years ago.

But it is proper to provide whiskey
at the grave side.

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

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

Mr Morse!

Will you open it, then?

I'd... rather you.

Ah, come on, Liam. Give us a hand.

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

Will you take a look?

I'd... rather not.

Why? Whatever's the matter?

He wasn't dead at all.

Not here at Bertnaghboy Bay.

Why did they fake a burial, then?

So that they could collect
on the insurance.

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

You mean...
she married the same man twice?

Yes.

FT Donavan.

Otherwise Donald Favant.

Otherwise Charles Franks.

He was a conjurer.

He was an impersonator.

He was a swindler.

He was a callous murderer,

a tearful witness.

He was Joanna Franks's first husband

and her second.

He was... a ghost from the grave.

He was...

the greatest man in all the world.

Welcome, please, a great citizen
of the world and Ireland!

A man who, for unrivalled expertise

in the cunning arts
of magic and legerdemain,

has had conferred on him

by the supreme conclave
of the Guild of Master Magicians...

the title:
Emperor of all Illusionists!

Your applause for the irreplaceable
FT Donavan!

The greatest man in all the world!

Attended by his lovely assistant -
Joanna!

Now, you all saw her, my friends.

But where is she now?

ALL: In the wardrobe!

But she's not!

Or is she?

You can get dressed now, Mr Morse.

Well?

Your holiday has done you good.

I can't see any reason to keep you
off work a moment longer.

Sorry.

I'm... thinking of early retirement.

Is that wise?

Retirement doesn't always suit busy
men. They never know how to stop.

I wish you'd told me that
a few weeks ago.

I don't think it would have made
any difference.

So, it's the end, is it?

I think so.

To make an end
is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.

Exactly.

Goodbye, Mr Morse.

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