Original subtitles

CHERUBINI: Requiem In C Minor

If I might have everyone's attention.

As you know, since the merging of City and County,

to create Thames Valley,

the future of Cowley police station has been in the balance.

I have this day received news from Division.

The station is to be reduced to a skeleton staff

by the 23rd of the month.

And will be closed, permanently,

at midnight on the 30th.

Details of future placements

will be sent to each of you in due course.

I know I can rely on all of you to discharge your duty

with the same professionalism

I have come to so admire these past years.

That's all. Carry on.

(Requiem In C Minor continues)

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

It's a remarkable stroke of good fortune

that you should be able to join us at such short notice.

Well, I'm very grateful for the opportunity, Headmaster.

Coldwater has a long history,

but I like to think we live in the present and look to the future.

Of course, Mr Ivory coached the First XV.

Oh, and he was also responsible for the end-of-term school play.

Oh. What play?

Shakespeare, I believe.

(GUNSHOTS)

That's just the cadets.

Coldwater has a great martial tradition.

Now, in addition to your classroom duties,

you will also act as House Master to Foxhole.

Ah, Mr Bodnar. This is Mr Morse.

The new man with the Lower Sixth. Perhaps you could show him to his room?

Yeah. Of course, Headmaster.

I look forward to seeing you in chapel for assembly.

Right, sir.

Oh, welcome to St Bastard's. "Ye who enter here, all hope abandon."

Thanks. Alun Bodnar.

Fifth Form and chemistry. Have you been here long?

Long enough not to mind any more.

Found my point of neutral buoyancy.

I lack ambition and that killer instinct.

Don't run, boy!

Though I daresay that could be rekindled.

It's just this way.

He was married, wasn't he? Mr Ivory. Yeah, that's right.

Headmaster's letting her stay on at one of the gatekeepers' cottages,

just till the end of term.

Kate. Nice girl.

(SCHOOL BELL RINGS)

I hope you'll let me stand you a pint at your earliest.

Yes. Thank you.

You want me to pose as a teacher?

It's Division's idea.

Bring in an outside man. How's that, sir?

Someone uninvolved, fresh pair of eyes on the situation.

Seems a lot of trouble to go to for one missing person.

Who is he? John Ivory.

Classics master at a boys' school called Coldwater.

Last seen leaving the village pub

shortly after six, on October the 4th.

The local Detective Inspector and his bagman

lost their lives in a road traffic accident with an articulated lorry.

We've found no evidence that connects them but...

understandably, Division are keen to close the case one way or another.

It's all in there.

Just see if you can't get under the skin of the place.

If there was anything untoward, the staff might be more inclined to confide in one of their own.

Oh. There is one more thing worth mentioning.

You won't be alone.

Upstairs think that the women at the school

are more likely to confide in another woman, is that it?

I suppose. It don't seem much like proper coppering to me.

Tomorrow's world. Pity.

I'd hoped we might get one last decent collar...together.

This Cromwell Ames character, Eddie Nero. Both if we're lucky.

Maybe they'll cancel each other out.

It's who else they cancel out in the meantime. That's what bothers me.

I've got Fancy on surveillance. Something will give sooner or later.

We should be getting back.

No. Another five minutes will be all right.

God, I love this place.

You should've seen their faces - Win and the kids -

when I brought 'em here for the first time.

We'd been two-up, back-to-back in the Smoke.

Couldn't believe somewhere like this existed.

Not after bomb sites and soot.

It was like stepping out of black and white and into colour.

So, you still mean to go through with it?

Station closing? Decision's made for me.

Too set in my ways to start over somewhere new.

Besides, Win'd have my guts if I let her down now.

No. Each thing in its season.

You'll be all right.

This undercover caper up the school is only a week or two.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

I went into the village today. How was that?

The shopkeeper said one of the boys

used to come in on Ivory's behalf most days,

for 40 Fusiliers and a half-bottle of whisky.

Really?

And how was the pub?

The wives of respectable young schoolteachers

don't go into pubs by themselves. So what did the landlord say?

Ivory did stop by on the night in question.

He had a couple of drinks, and then left about 6.15

to meet someone called Agnes.

Agnes what? Er...Davis, maybe?

The landlord couldn't be sure. Ivory was always bragging about women.

Really? The garage was closed.

What are the boys like? I don't know. I haven't met them yet.

What are we doing? This is such a waste of time.

Just following orders.

Division clearly thinks this is important.

It's not every day a Detective Inspector and his bagman die in a car crash.

It's happenstance, surely. Nothing sinister. Hm.

Have you checked upstairs? This afternoon.

There's no sign of the previous occupants. It's all rather Spartan.

The plumbing's positively medieval. The sink's backing up.

We might have to get a man out.

It's just the one bed, I'm afraid.

Well, I can take the couch. Don't be ridiculous.

How's that going to look if someone comes knocking?

(WATER GURGLING)

"Dearest Mother..." Give it back!

"Thank you for the ten shillings you sent me for my birthday."

You know the rule, squit. Hand it over. Oi! Stop that at once!

If I have to repeat myself you'll all be on detention

till the end of term. Is that clear?

What's going on? Natural selection, sir.

Survival of the fittest, sir. Mensch und Ubermensch, sir.

Go on, all of you.

Go on!

What's all this? Praetorians' privilege, sir.

To beast the squits. Well, if it happens again, you come and see me.

All right?

Go on. On your way. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Hey. Wait a minute.

Aggravine. Adsum.

Babcock. Adsum.

Clunchfist. Adsum.

Dakin. Choir.

Gaudibund. Adsum.

Morris Minor. Adsum.

You mean Morry Thou, sir.

That's what Mr Ivory used to call him, sir.

After the car, sir. It's a joke, sir.

On account of his being a Jew, sir.

Well, we'll have none of that here. I don't mind, sir.

Well, you should. But he doesn't, sir. I heard him. Thank you.

Erm...Nero.

Here. Adsum, you bloody oik. (SNIGGERING)

Queach. Adsum.

Rowntree. Absum, sir.

Abest. He's not here, sir.

Where is he? He was expelled, sir.

Cast out, sir. Banished, sir.

Black-balled, sir. Consigned to outer darkness.

I see, thank you. Summerhead. Adsum. And Zec. Choir. Right.

Ovid's Metamorphoses. Lines 225 to 230.

Daedalus and Icarus.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

Right.

(YAPPING) Oh!

Oh. Let's get one. Come on.

THURSDAY: Brett Nero? Eddie's kept that quiet.

That could be why Division have taken such an interest.

If Nero's son's at the school?

Mr Bright would have mentioned it if that was the case.

Just happenstance, surely. His kid's got to go somewhere.

Well, if her condition worsens, then please give me a call.

Thank you. I'm sorry, I couldn't find a telephone.

The office telephone is for school business, not personal matters.

But I suppose if it's urgent.

You're the new man. That's right. Morse.

Miss... Mackenzie. Ravenna.

I think you're supposed to be on break duty?

Ah, yes.

There's a payphone, in the vestibule.

For next time.

Oh. Thank you.

(PUPPY YAPPING)

Get down!

THURSDAY: Sounds like you had a close shave.

I've had closer. Cromwell Ames?

I can't have you pair shooting up the town like it's the Wild West.

Somebody's gonna get hurt. I nearly got hurt.

Somebody that matters. He's already tried for you once.

He won't get a second go. If you know where he is...

It's past that now.

I told you at the start not to take the law.

There's a reckoning due, but it's ours to make.

Better get your skates on, then, hadn't you?

Word is...your nick's going out of business.

Don't get caught on the wrong side, Eddie.

You're no good to your boy banged up, or worse.

Coldwater must be a pricey touch.

You leave Brett out of this. For now.

Mind how you go.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Is there any news, sir? News? About Mr Ivory, sir.

The police came, sir. Talked to all of us, sir.

But they couldn't find him, sir. And now they're dead, sir.

Who are dead? The policemen, sir.

A car crash, sir. With a lorry, sir.

It was in the paper, sir. Yes, so I hear.

That was bad luck, wasn't it, sir? Burning to death in a car, sir.

What a way to go, sir. The papers said it was an accident, sir.

But was it an accident, sir?

Well, there's no reason to believe otherwise.

Do you think Mr Ivory had an accident too, sir?

I don't know. What do you think?

Well, you liked him, did you?

Liked him, sir? He was a master, sir.

We liked Mrs Ivory. He was married, sir.

Yes, I know. Are you married, sir?

Mrs Ivory? I'm Mrs Morse.

Shirley. My husband's taken over the Lower Sixth.

We're in your old house, Rose Cottage. A letter came for you.

Oh. Thank you.

I'm sure it's the last thing you need,

but I wondered if you might like to come to supper.

It's my husband's first school since we got married,

which makes it my first school altogether.

I'd be grateful for any advice. When were you thinking?

Here.

(VAN DOOR SLAMS)

Have you spoken to Mr Bright yet?

He's got a lot on his mind at the moment, with the station being wound up.

Well, no better time, I would have thought.

I know it's a big step... but it's for the best.

While we still have our health. I know.

You're not still fretting over Morse? No.

I've set him on his way.

Good. Got some room for rice pud? Skin on?

Smashing.

Ooh! Charlie called. I said you'd call him back.

(DOORBELL) I'll get it!

Jim.

Sorry to drop by late, sir,

but it looks like young George has got a lead on Ames.

Shirley? What an enchanting name. (LAUGHTER)

I'm a black belt. 7th dan. Ex-Territorial.

Feel that. Go on.

That's rock hard, that is.

It's like granite.

Well, the police came, of course.

Not that I was able to tell them anything.

I was at home with Ravenna, my daughter, having supper,

and then we listened to a concert on the radio.

That's right. Mahler. The Five.

Your wife tells me you were at Bamfylde? Yes. That's right.

Is Old Wilkie still stinking the place out with sulphur?

I don't remember him. What about Popperynge?

Pop, the boys used to call him.

To be honest, I wasn't there long enough to get to know any of the masters.

Matron, all well? Yes, thank you, Headmaster.

Mr Morse, I am sorry to trouble you.

Do you have a moment? Yes, of course.

Would you excuse me?

(CAR APPROACHING) (TYRES SCREECH)

Armed police! Hands in the air!

Cromwell Ames? Who wants to know?

DCI Thursday, Thames Valley Police.

Cromwell Ames, you're under arrest for suspicion of murder.

You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say

will be taken down and can be given in evidence.

It's one of the fifth years. A boy called Stanlow.

Perhaps you could talk to him while I get fresh linen on the mattress.

He wets the bed. Ah.

It's Mrs Seymour, isn't it?

We've not been properly introduced. I'm Morse.

How are you and your wife finding Coldwater?

I think she'd be happier if she had a little more to do.

I don't suppose you could use a spare pair of hands?

I might. Part time.

There wouldn't be much money, but...

if you really think it might be of interest, tell her to come and see me.

Liam Flynn. Sometime collector for Eddie Nero's extortion racket.

Stabbed to death in May.

Burt Hobbs, lorry driver. Family man.

Just about to celebrate his ruby wedding.

Had his head bashed in at Waddington Junction

when a mob hi-jacked his load of Killoran whisky.

Lloyd Collins, fence for the whisky.

Stabbed to death in a lock-up in the arse end of Cowley.

A black cockerel was left next to him. Its head cut off.

Sounds like voodoo to me, mister.

You don't wanna mess with that. We know what you're about.

You're looking to take over Nero's turf. Never heard of him.

I'm just a car dealer.

I'm sorry, sir. I had a nightmare.

I'm all right now. It's all right.

What's all this?

Mr Ivory said we should look to the lives of great men as an example, sir.

Did you like Mr Ivory? Yes, sir.

Very much, sir.

He wasn't like the other masters. Oh? How's that?

He was kind. He used to call me "Dak", sir.

I think it's short for "Daktari".

It's a programme on the television about a vet in Africa.

There's a lion in it called Clarence. That's my name too.

I'll get Matron to bring you some warm milk. Would you like that?

Go on. Hunker down.

Seems a nice boy. Stanlow.

He's troubled, though. His parents are getting a divorce.

Ah. It's difficult for any child.

To some degree they always blame themselves.

The other boys bully him. He's not sporty.

Something of a teacher's pet. Oh.

Mr Ivory protected him so far as he could, but...

Why would Mr Ivory protect Stanlow from the other boys?

I don't know, but he did.

(SCRAPE AND CLICK UPSTAIRS)

(FOOTSTEPS)

(DOOR CREAKS)

Has Ames said anything? As little as possible, sir.

His brief is with him now. A big cheese up from London.

Claiming alibi? A good dozen witnesses

will swear he was elsewhere at the time of each of the killings, sir.

All bought and paid for, presumably.

Including the attempt on Nero's life? In London, sir.

At the...Bunny Club. There's photographs to prove it.

We've let him go, but I've told Fancy

not to let him out of his sight.

There might be some progress with Morse at the school, sir.

The missing persons case.

He's had a shirt left in his desk.

Had a driver pick it up in the early hours.

Over 20 stab wounds... according to Dr deBryn.

Murdered, then? Certainly looks that way, sir.

If it's Ivory's shirt...

Oh, Caesar... Hence!

Wilt thou lift up Olympus?

Great Caesar... Doth not Brutus bootless kneel?

Speak, hands for me.

Aargh!

(GRUNTING AND GROANING)

Et tu, Brute!

Then fall, Caesar!

It's mostly coughs and colds.

Mumps. Measles. Chickenpox.

But anything serious, then we get the doctor out.

Otherwise, it's housekeeping.

Are you sure you won't be bored, Mrs Morse?

Not a bit. And do call me Shirley, please.

How long have you been at Coldwater? Ten years now.

Before that I was a district nurse for eight years.

I'd imagine a matron's the eyes and ears of a school.

Can't be much that goes on here you don't know about.

I don't know about that.

What do you think happened to Mr Ivory?

You don't suppose anyone here could have...done something?

There was no love lost between Ivory and Blackwell, apparently.

On the evening in question, they had words.

Ivory was meant to be looking after the film show,

but he ended up ducking out and Blackwell got roped in.

That's hardly motive for murder, is it?

Mrs Seymour thought there might be something more to it.

Who do you think left the shirt? I don't know.

It's either someone trying to help. Or it's a threat.

(SCHOOL BELL)

What do I remember about the night Ivory went missing?

(GUNSHOTS) Funny sort of thing to ask.

No, not really. Dead man's shoes.

Or dead man's class, in my case. I'm living in his house.

Well, there's not a lot I can tell you.

He was meant to run the film for the boys, but then he said

he had some sort of family emergency and left me to it.

What did you make of him? Erm...

He was all right. Now, what's this?

Oh. Stanlow won't fire a rifle.

Will you, Stanlow? Arms up, boy!

Up! (GUNSHOTS CONTINUE)

Yeah. He's got it into his head he's a little pacifist.

Little coward, more like.

So he's under heavy manners.

See if we can't...correct his thinking.

Make Britain Greater.

Bloody right. We were a force to be reckoned with once.

Not now. Going cap in hand with a begging bowl...

..taking rubbish from half the places we used to run.

Well, look. I'd best get on.

Give my regards to your wife.

She's a good-looking girl.

How'd you ever manage to snare a piece like that?

Charm.

How are you finding the boys? Oh, I think we're still...

getting the measure of each other.

They seem to have held your husband in some regard.

John was very fond of them.

I don't suppose there's any news from the police as to what might have happened?

Morse. No.

No, it's all right. I don't mind talking about it.

In a way, it reminds me that it's real. (KNOCK)

Sorry.

Presumably, the police spoke to everybody at Coldwater, at the time?

Oh, yes. The usual questions, I'd imagine.

"Any money troubles? Did he have any enemies?"

After a week or so, it just went very quiet.

Right. (LOW CHATTER)

Sorry I'm a bit early. Hello. Hello. Hello, Kate.

How are you? Morse and Shirley have been spoiling me.

Quite right too.

Early for what? I'm here to lead your husband astray.

A pint or two at the local. Well, don't let us stop you.

It was lovely to have met you. Hopefully we'll see you again.

I'm glad the lower sixth have got someone nice to look after them.

He seems nice. Alun? Yes. He's been very kind.

Hm. (DOOR CLOSES)

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Thursday, CID.

Oh, hello, Charlie. I was gonna ring you.

Everything all right?

Yeah, course. Tonight?

Well, I suppose I can.

Round nine, do you? All right.

Till then.

I mean, what do you think happened to Ivory?

Oh, Christ. Not him again. You're like a scratched record, man.

You said you didn't click. How come?

He spoke to the boys' baser instincts.

Their lesser angels. Oh.

And he was a bully.

He inspired the same in others. That's quite a charge.

I taught most of the boys in your form.

They were all right till Ivory got hold of them.

Have you ever been bullied?

THURSDAY: Aye-aye, Charlie.

Oh, thanks for coming, Fred.

What's all this?

Well...I don't know where to start.

Well, the beginning's usually favourite.

Just tell me. What's up?

I got took, Fred. What do you mean, you got took?

I had to borrow some money.

I thought they were on the level, to begin with.

I just got more and more behind.

They said I could work it off through the business.

What do you mean? Using the company's good standing.

Credit. Goods.

Loans from the bank.

You've been the front for a long firm fraud.

Oh, Jesus Christ. What about my money?

Oh, no. No, no, no.

A loan, you said. A short-term loan, Charlie.

I thought I could buy 'em off.

It's gone, Fred. I'm going away. We're going away.

Before you get lifted?

What did they do with my money, Charlie?

The cheque. Can it be traced back to me?

I...

You've done me, Charlie!

My whole life. Everything I've worked for.

You've dragged me into the sewer. I didn't know.

Don't lie to me!

Look. I'm sorry, Fred.

I had to do it for Paulette. For Carol.

What about me and Win? It was our retirement.

Our life savings.

Now I've got to live out what I got left looking over my shoulder,

waiting for the knock?

Fred?

Fred!

Well, the parting of the ways. Here, you better take this.

Don't you need it? No.

I'd find my way back blindfolded after all this time.

Go straight through the woods,

follow the path through a kissing gate, to the cottage.

Safe home.

Thanks. You too.

He got in their heads, Morse.

Ivory.

You see, cruelty's like cancer.

Starts with one cell.

And if it's left untreated...

..it spreads, till the whole body's riddled with it.

You've got to cut it out. You've got to burn it out.

Kill it at the source.

(DOOR CLOSES) Late, Fred.

Work?

No. I had to see Charlie.

In London?

Yeah.

All right, is he?

Fred?

How much?

Fred?

I'll just have to work a bit longer than we thought, is all.

You lent Charlie money.

Without telling me?

It was all meant to be paid back by Christmas.

But it won't be, will it?

(GASPS)

Please send in Mr Morse. Yes, Headmaster.

Sir.

498 00:32: