All language subtitles for Endeavour - 06x02 - Apollo.MTB.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Turn it down! Turn the music down!

'The moments until launch ticking away,

'we're joined live from Oxford
Observatory by Professor Adam Drake.

'Can you hear me, Professor?

'Yes, Peter, I can hear you.'

I understand your team
will be monitoring the launch,

and tracking Apollo
as it approaches the moon.

Well, Peter, the tracking
will be done by our colleagues

at Jodrell Bank, but we will,
of course, be analysing the data.

He's very good, isn't he?

Tell me.

What's the worst thing you've ever done?

She's always been selfish.

And we've given her everything.

Oh, it's all attention seeking.

I suppose it'll be to do with
some boy she's been mooning over.

'And how will Armstrong, Aldrin
and Collins be feeling right now?'

Well, I think it's safe to say

they'll be feeling a mixture
of trepidation and excitement.

'Ten.

'Nine.

'Ignition sequence has begun.

'Six.

'Five.

'Four.

'Three. Two.

'One.

'Lift off.

'That is lift off
at 32 minutes past the hour.

'Lift off for Apollo 11.

'The rocket is now
clear of the launch tower.'

One more for Professor Drake.

It looked perfect to me.

Yes, well, when you're
a professor of astrophysics,

we'll take your word for it.

'Whole Lotta Love' by Led Zeppelin

The woman from the village
who does for us

brought it back from Spain.

As a present!

Look.

Oh!

Oh! Adam, darling!

You made it!

How are you?

This is, er, Christine.

Oh!

Course, the other wives are just green.

The bursar's wife said to me
the other day, she said,

"Being married to Larry must be like
being married to an astronaut."

My little television piece
went over well, don't you think?

You might have made more of the part
played by British know-how.

No Tom Bacon, no fuel cells,
no fuel cells, no moon.

Bacon must be 65 if he's a day,
and Cambridge.

Let the fens claim him. Oxford has
a young Helios Apollo of its own.

I thought you were bloody brilliant.

Excuse me for a minute.

You know, I think
if you really applied yourself,

you could probably get the whole
of your tongue up his exhaust.

They're a bit square, aren't they?

Couldn't we make our excuses?

'Unit 3 to DCI Box.
All units in position, guv'nor.

'Standing by.'

Five minutes yet.

Young eel.

Five letters.

Elver.

E-L-V-E-R.

Morse.

'Wages van in view.

'It's on, boss.'

Right.

Now, best stay in the car, Fred.
These boys are handy.

I'm all right.

I know you are.

I'd just sooner you stayed
on the bench for this one.

Morning, sir.

Morse! Good heavens!

Well, what's this?
I thought you were out by Woodstock.

I had notice from Division
to transfer back to CID in town.

- Started this morning.
- Indeed.

Well, that is good news.

- Suspicious?
- Seemingly not.

Then what warrants the presence of CID

and an officer of senior rank
at a common or garden RTA?

The driver's a Professor Adam Drake.

- The moon man?
- Ah.

Any other vehicles involved?

Not according to Accident Investigation.

- Well, there's no skid marks.
- Asleep at the wheel, possibly?

Alcohol, perhaps.

And speed.

Right.

Police!

Hey, hey, hey!

Fred?!

Go. Go. Go.

Told you to stay in the car, didn't I?

I wouldn't get too close.

Exsanguination.

Distinct smell of alcohol from his mouth.

Some sort of vermouth, to my nose,
but you may have a better...

I'll take your word for it.

Straight-forward drink-drive, then?
Showing off for the girl?

These were in his pocket.

Drake's, presumably.

The car belongs to a Dr Laurence Humbolt.

- Address in North Oxford.
- Hm.

What about his passenger?

Oh, I haven't got to her yet.

Thrown clear, by the look of things.

Now...

Well, there's a thing.

Liver mortis.

This purpling you see here.

Once the heart stops pumping,
blood settles according to gravity.

It should be on the other side
of her face?

There's also a marked lack of bleeding

from the laceration to her forehead.

So she was dead
before the car hit the tree.

That could be why there's no skid marks.

He crashed the car intentionally?

A dead girl on board?
Perhaps he had cause.

Is DI Thursday about?

He's with the sawbones.

This morning's stake-out, it...

got a bit lively.

- He's all right, though?
- He's still standing.

Is this yours?

Oh, yes, I couldn't see a desk.

No.

Well, I'll let you get settled in.

Light duties?

Couple of weeks.

There's no shame in it.

I'm fine.

I'm sure.

But better safe.

Any word?

Bastards got away.

But don't worry.

I'll have 'em.

They're owed.

Oh!

Sir.

I hear there's been some excitement.

Yeah, just a... bit of rough and tumble.

Only upstairs has stuck me
on light duties.

You?

Car crash.

Supposedly.

But looks more like a murder-suicide.

If you've nothing on...?

Well...

...I could help you out, I suppose,

if you wanted.

I mean, I'd need to clear it.

Looks like the driver did
for the girl before doing himself.

We just need to put a name to her.

Fair enough.

Just don't overdo it.

Office all right?

We didn't have space up here, but to
be honest, I wasn't expecting you.

Friends in high places, eh?

Hardly.

Well, somebody pulled strings
at Division,

or you'd still be counting cabbages
out in the sticks.

Look, I didn't ask for a transfer.

I don't know why I'm here
any more than you do.

But no-one at Division's
going to be doing me any favours.

If you're ready, then, Morse?

Aye-aye, Joanie.

What's all this, then?

Hello, Jim.

Criminal damage.

Flora Humbolt.

Burned down a guides' hut.

Nice girl.

Hoping to avoid a custodial.

Get you with all the lingo.

We nick 'em, you see 'em
back out on the streets.

What is it - trouble at home?

Her mother says it's to do
with a boy, but I'm not so sure.

Some of 'em are just
born under a bad sign.

All the welfare in the world
won't save 'em.

Maybe, but 13's a bit young to
be written off, don't you think?

What about you? What are you on?

Oh, just a bit of this and that.

Good luck with your girl, anyway.
Mind how you go.

The car's a cut and shut.

Two write-offs welded together.

Looks the part,
but no structural integrity.

A collision and the thing just, er,
disintegrates.

Log book?

Worthy of Nevil Shute.

Which is no surprise, seeing as he
bought it from the Winsome Welshmen.

Dudley and Dunstan.

Weren't they a front for Eddie Nero?

One of many.

He did a moonlight when he went west.

You won't get any change there.

Be glad of a motor from the pool
if there's one going spare, Mac.

All spoken for, Fred.

What about number nine?

What's wrong with it?

Nothing. It's just had its day, is all.

We've got it down for scrap or spares.

I've got a nondy
coming in for an oil change,

if you give me half an hour.

'Hard to imagine the thoughts
that will be passing through

'the minds of Armstrong, Aldrin
and Collins

'as they say goodbye to the Earth,

'and venture out into the vast..'

I've drawn blood from both of them

and asked the lab to make it a priority.

But I would expect them to report
a fairly high level of intoxication,

if stomach contents
are anything to go by.

- Always a pleasure, Doctor.
- What, for both of them?

His, otherwise empty.

Hers, final meal of pineapple,
sausages and cheese,

ingested within two hours of her decease.

Which was when?

Between midnight and three o'clock.

Anything as to cause with her?

Single blunt trauma to the parietal,
leading to sub-dural haematoma,

increased pressure on the brain
stem, and arrivederci, Roma.

What about her personal effects?

No money, purse, keys? Nothing like that?

No. Just what's there.

The dress and the shoes.

That was his. From his left wrist.

Don't suppose
you've got a name for her yet?

What we're about.

Post-mortem photo
wouldn't go amiss in that regard.

Ah.

Thought that might be the case.

All my own work.

Mind how you go.

Inspector. Morse.

No next of kin, according to the bursar.

Drake was an only child.

Mother died when he was young,

Father about two years ago.
Anything here?

Nothing.

Cheese and pineapple.

We had that at our silver wedding.

On sticks.

A party, do you think?

Cocktail sausages, heavy drinking?

With this Humbolt character, maybe.
That's where Drake got the car.

Hm.

Anything on him yet?

They're colleagues, said the bursar.

Over at the observatory.

How To Live A Happier Life.

Maybe he never finished it.

'Each of us can have anything we want,

'anything in the world.

'But so often we deny ourselves,

'because we don't think we deserve it.'

How is it Professor Drake
was driving your car, Dr Humbolt?

His wouldn't start, apparently.

He found me in the garden
and asked if he could borrow mine.

Then, presumably the vehicle is
still at your house, Dr Wingqvist?

Yes, it's... Well, I expected
a mechanic to fix it this morning.

There was a young woman
found at the scene of the crash,

for whom we don't have a name.

I must warn you,
it's a post-mortem photograph,

but can you confirm that this is
who Professor Drake was with?

Yes, I believe that's her, but...
I've a terrible memory for names.

Adam's girls never really hung
around long enough

to make it worthwhile
learning their names.

Bit of a ladies' man, was he?

Making up for lost time, perhaps.

Most of us have a misspent youth.

Adam didn't really have a youth at all.

Mathematical child prodigy.

Entered Oxford at the age of 12,

and was appointed
Copernican chair at just 23.

How would you describe
Professor Drake's temperament?

Quite highly strung, despite the
appearance he gave on television.

He could fly off the handle.

Violently?

He had a temper.

How did they seem
with each other last night?

You weren't aware of any...
ill feeling between them?

They didn't have words?

No.

Er, no, Larry, were you...?

I can't say as I noticed anything.

'Everyone thinks I have the perfect life.

'I suppose looking at it
from the outside I do.

'Perfect marriage.

'Perfect husband.

'Perfect children. Perfect house.

'But every morning I wake up,
I just want to scream.'

I don't suppose
that's the first of those, is it?

Or the last.

I wish it had been you.

So do I.

These are the keys Drake had on him.

Hm.

Well, if they're not his, whose are they?

It's a pay slip.

Christine Chase.

Heaviside Studios.

Mrs Wingqvist is upstairs.

The police, ma'am.

Thank you, Mrs Trellis.

Oh, the, erm...

the bath plughole is blocked again.

Hair, is it?

Erm, I don't know what it is,
but if you could pick it out?

Thank you.

Natalie Wingqvist.

You, erm, you spoke to my husband,
I believe, about Adam.

That's right, madam.

There was a young woman also at the
scene that we're trying to identify,

presumably the girl that Drake
was here with last night.

Christine Chase, would that be right?

Yes, I think that was it.

How did they seem together?

They kept to themselves pretty much.

I think she found us all rather dry.

Your husband said they left around
one o'clock. Would that be right?

If that's what Elliot said.

I'm afraid I didn't see them go.
It was all very casual.

You know what parties are like.

People just slip away.

Hm.

I'm sorry to have kept you. Jeff Slayton.

My sister, Hildy.
The real brains of the business.

Reception said you were from the police?

DI Thursday, DS Morse. Thames Valley.

We're here about Christine Chase.
I believe she works here.

Chrissie? Lovely girl. Very bright.

She's my personal assistant.

But if you wanted to speak to her,
I'm afraid she's not in today.

When did you see her last?

Yesterday evening,
around six thirty. Why?

I'm sorry to have to tell you,
but... she's been killed.

What?

Oh, no!

How?!

Her body was found at the scene
of a car crash.

That's awful. Where?

Out towards Edenbury.

The car was being driven by
a Professor Drake.

Adam?

Yes. Do you know him?

He's the scientific advisor
on Moon Rangers, our latest show.

It's a sort of Bonanza in space.
Is he all right?

I'm afraid he's also deceased.

We'd like to speak to her colleagues
if that's possible?

Barbara's not only my daughter, Major,

but she's also a renowned
astrophysicist in her own right.

I warned her not to go, Colonel.

Now, she's out there
somewhere on the dark side,

with only 30 minutes of oxygen left.

Don't blame yourself, Rock.

She was determined to get
that space-flu vaccine

through to the miners at Station X-1-9.

Sorry, everyone. Got our wires crossed.

Cut.

If I might have your attention
a moment...

I'm afraid I've got some terrible news.

Christine from the office and, erm,
Professor Drake... A-Adam...

I, erm...

There was a car accident last night.

They were both killed.

And how would you describe Miss Chase?

I didn't really know her,

but Marilyn was quite close to Christine.

That'd be Marilyn who, Mr Gidby?

Oh, it's my wife.

She works with me on the gantry
as a puppeteer.

What about Professor Drake?
Did you know him at all?

Oh, yes. He came by to watch
some of the filming yesterday.

What was he like?

Oh...

Very full of himself, as always.

This wasn't right, and that wasn't right.

Mostly, he was banging on about
some course he'd been taking.

What sort of course?

I couldn't say.

You didn't care for him?

He was all right, I suppose.

But you always got the idea
he was looking down his nose at you.

Sorry. Just a shock.

They were asking after Adam.

What was that course he was taking?

Something in Parktown, wasn't it?

And how would you describe Miss Chase?

- She was nice.
- Hm-mm.

Sweet. Quite shy.

Had she and Professor Drake
been together long?

They'd been out
a couple of times for drinks.

She was afraid of him.

I thought he was a bit of a show-off,

being on the telly, I suppose.

He wouldn't miss a chance
to make you feel small.

So, they leave this party,
park up somewhere, presumably,

she ends up dead, and he does
for himself by crashing the car.

You be all right to let her parents know?

Let them know what, exactly?

We don't know what happened.

Only two people know what happened
in that car, and they're both dead.

No point milking it.

Well, we want to be sure, don't we?

For her sake, and for his.

It's somebody's reputation
that we're talking about.

It's about what you can prove.
You know that.

Drake thought we'd take the crash
at face value.

He didn't count on you.

First day back. Well done.
Now go and have a pint.

'Well, whatever Drake did,
he's past justice now.'

But whose are the car keys
he had in his pocket?

If they're not his, they're not
hers, then whose are they?

Car keys? That's what you're sticking on?

If it was my daughter lost
in suspicious circumstances,

I'd want more than an open verdict,
wouldn't you?

- It's the guv'nor's call.
- He's not my guv'nor.

He is now,
and you'd do well to remember it.

Right, I'm off.

Well, I'll pick you up in the morning.

No, don't worry about that.

Light duties, remember?

What did happen?

They had a pick handle.

I didn't.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Morse.

Home.

You going somewhere?

I'm out tonight.

Oh! Yeah?

Shouldn't be late.

You had tea?

Bit of shepherd's pie.

Oh, smashing.

At work.

Oh. Right.

I thought you could get yourself
something from the chip shop.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'll probably do that.

Right, then.

Don't wait up.

Mac?

So, what is it that couldn't wait?

The brakes had been bled.

There's not a drop of fluid in them
or the reservoir.

And that couldn't have
happened in the crash?

No, not a chance.

This was sabotage.

Right.

Somebody bled the brakes on the car
that Drake was driving,

which is why there were no skid
marks at the site of the crash.

Yeah, it also means that Drake
couldn't have pulled over

to kill Christine Chase,

so she must have already been dead
when he drove away from the party.

How'd she die again?

Head trauma. Single blow.

Drake was driving
Humbolt's car, wasn't he?

That's right, sir.

We're assuming whoever bled the
brakes had it in for Mr Humbolt.

He's rubbed somebody up
the wrong way, you reckon?

Right.

I'll take it from here.

So much for open and shut.

Well, that was your assessment, not mine.

I said that we should
get to the bottom of it.

Let's get one thing straight -

you go digging when I've told you not to,

you'll be on the first bus out.

I thought we were here to get
to the truth of what happened!

No. You're here to follow my orders.

If that's going to be difficult for you,

I suggest you put in for a transfer.

Meantime...

you're dismissed, Sergeant.

Cocky little bastard.

He's a good officer.

He's a condescending little prick!

I'll take it from here.

You don't mean somebody meant for it
to happen...

You're not serious?

But...

I don't drive.

Not at the moment, anyway.

The car's in my name,
but I was disqualified from driving

for a year last September.

So who drove your car to the Wingqvists?

Flora!

Your job to collect the balls.

How am I supposed to serve
if I don't have a ball?

And don't scowl!

It makes you look very ugly.

And see if Matthew wants a drink.

Why don't you see?

You're his mother!

How dare you?!

Do you see what I have to put up with?

Darling, do you have a moment?

These gentlemen are from the police.

Hi, sweetheart.

Would you excuse us, please,
Miss Wingqvist?

I might be able to help, mightn't I?
If it's about Adam.

A list of guests from your party
the other night would be helpful.

My guests? Whatever for?

Cos I'm asking.

We'd also like the make
and model of their vehicles,

together with registration numbers.

Erm... D'you think perhaps you could
take Matthew and Flora for a walk?

Yes.

Go on. Go with Mrs Wingqvist.

So, what is it?

We've reason to believe someone
may have tampered with your vehicle,

Mrs Humbolt.

They think the crash that killed Adam

and his girlfriend wasn't an accident.

What?

I don't believe it.

Your husband says there's no-one
he can think of wishes him harm,

so I'm afraid we must put
the same question to you.

Well, no.

The very thought of it, it's absurd.

Well, that raises another matter.

It means your vehicle
was most likely interfered with

outside the Wingqvists',
while you were at this party.

What of it?

We've held off making it public,
but Christine Chase,

Professor Drake's date, was already
dead when the car crashed.

We'd assumed till now that Drake
had parked somewhere and killed her

after leaving the party, but
if the brakes on the car were shot,

she was already dead before she left
the Wingqvists'.

I never heard anything more grotesque.

It was an academics' wine and cheese,

not The Masque Of The Red Death!

Really, I think we'd've noticed

if Adam had been carting
a dead girl around a party.

Did you see them leave?

Well, no. One minute they were
there, the next they were gone.

Right. Well, whatever the case,
I'd advise you to take extra care

when you're going about your business.

If someone tried to cause you injury
and failed, they may well try again.

Thank you.

If only Luna could speak, she could
tell us what's happened to Barbara.

What did that box of wires
and lights say?

X-1 says if we can
beam our signal off the asteroid,

we might be able to find
Barbara's homing beacon.

Great Scott!

It's a billion-to-one shot,
but it might just work!

Christ, Marilyn! Watch what you're doing!

- Sorry!
- What're you two playing at?

Do you think this is easy?

You come up here and have a go!

All right.

Take five, everyone.

Listen, I know we're all on edge

with what happened to Chrissie
and Adam...

Speak for yourself.

Ask me, it's good riddance
to the snotty bastard.

Telling me my job!

Bloody expert.

Do you want to know
why we're this far behind schedule?

Too many chiefs.

Take after take.

Yes, OK, maybe he went too far
sometimes, but...

Sometimes? He made me feel this big.

In front of the whole crew.
And you let him.

Where was he when we did Bendy?

All right!

But Hilds has got a point.

You know Marilyn is fond of Chrissie.

If it's on her mind...

Look, let's break for an early tea,
and just try to get this in the can.

The worst thing
I've ever done? Life's too short.

Guilt is for the religious.

I just spoke to Natalie.
What did the police want?

Larry?

They think what happened to Adam
was meant for me.

Do they?

Someone did something to the car
intentionally.

Someone wanted me dead.

Christ, Elliot,
what have you got us into?

Me? Don't put this on me.

You knew full well.

Ask your wife.

List of people who attended
the Wingqvists' party.

Get 'em logged in.

Guv'nor's rated you exhibits officer.

And if I were you, I'd keep my head down.

You're not his blue-eyed boy right now.

But she hasn't given
the registration numbers

or details of any of her
guests' vehicles.

Yeah, so?

So, we've a set of car keys
found in Adam Drake's pocket

and no idea whose car they belong to.

Someone'll claim 'em
when they miss 'em, won't they?

Anyway, you can give 'em
a ring round, can't you?

Hello, sir.

Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

I'd like to speak to somebody
about a Professor Adam Drake.

I believe he was an attendee
at some course run here,

Mr...?

Gabriel Van Horne.

What is it you do here, Mr Van Horne?

We help people.

Help them with what?

Themselves, mostly.

Hello?

I'm sorry, you can't just
wander about the place!

Hello?

All right. All right, Harmony.

Take it down to level two.

Would you mind?

Bring it down.

Bring it down.

What's all that about?

It's nothing to be alarmed about.

Shall we?

What do you want?

Straight answers, quickly given.

I was speaking philosophically.

At here at the Institute,

we help people to see the world
as it really is.

An individual
cannot realise their true potential

while still adhering
to an illusory narrative.

Now, as a-a policeman, you'll agree
that most social interactions

are essentially dishonest.

Yes.

- Let us consider the cake paradox.
- Let's not.

You asked what we do here.

It may help you understand.

You're having tea with a friend.

Unlikely, but go on.

There are two cakes left
on the plate, there's a large one

of a kind you very much like, and
there's a smaller, dry looking one.

Which one do you choose?

The small one, but that's not the point.

It's the whole point.

You deny yourself to what end?

We teach people to ask for
what they want.

You teach people to be selfish?

To be honest.

To cast off regressive behaviours

and harmful emotional patterns
imprinted since birth.

Guilt.

Shame.

Is that what all the screaming
and crying was about?

We call it catharsis therapy.

And Adam Drake took your course,
is that right?

He was undergoing treatment.

What does it cost, this treatment?

What price freedom?

"But why, you may ask, should
anybody want to go to the Moon?

"That I will tell you.

"The reason is that behind the Moon
there lies the most wonderful,

"beautiful, never-to-be-forgotten
garden the mind can think of."

I never wanted any of it.

What about me? What about what I wanted?

What you wanted? When has it ever
been about any bloody thing else?

- They're just playing a game.
- If you weren't such a wash-out!

Come on. Snuggle down.

Curtains open or closed?

Open.

Who was that?

I don't know.

Butterfly kisses?

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

I love you.

They won't leave us, will they?

Don't mind me.

I'm just keeping an eye on the shop,
ahead of Box.

Mr Box, or the DCI.

He's not turned in yet.

We've left word.

Well, I've got the ball rolling.

Started taking particulars off the staff.

Deceased is one Eric Charles Gidby.

Yeah. It's all right, we know him.

We had business here earlier
this week on another matter.

Single shot to the head.

Star-shaped contact burns
around the entry site.

Suicide?

Nothing to say otherwise.

Some time between ten
and two o'clock last night.

Who found the body?

We wrapped at six.

I left for home about seven.

Did anyone have access to the building?

Well, Hildy and me, of course -
but apart from that...

Eric had his own set of keys.

He often stayed on,
working on this or that bit of kit.

We will need an account
from everyone as to their movements.

Well, he's killed himself, hasn't he?

You can't think anyone here
would have done anything to him!

Jeff...

Eric was my oldest friend.
We were in REME together.

We have to be thorough, sir,

for his sake as much as anybody else.

I caught up on yesterday's rushes
till about eight,

then went home and spent a quiet evening.

Anyone vouch for you, sir?

I live by myself.

And your own movements, Miss Slayton?

A solitary supper and then
I took Jacqueline Susann to bed.

I see.

And where might we reach Miss Susann?

Oh, erm, I think Miss Slayton
is referring to a novel

written by the popular authoress
of that name.

How had Mr Gidby seemed lately
in himself?

Better.

I mean, since Marilyn,
he's a changed man.

At least I thought he was.

Better? How's that?

Eric lost Patricia, his first wife,
three years ago.

A hit and run in Wallingford.

They were devoted to one another.

He took it very badly.

Go on, Hilds.

It can't matter now.

He'd tried before...

to take his life.

Pills and drink.

Jeff found him.

Got him in somewhere discreet.
Paid for it all.

He'd've done the same for me.

And did he keep a firearm, do you know?

Well, I didn't give it much of a look,

but I'd imagine it's one of ours.

There's a few in the prop store
we've acquired over the years.

Miniature weapons tend not to look
convincing in the puppets' hands.

We'll usually shoot a live close-up
with somebody holding

one of our pieces and cut that in.

But we only keep blank ammunition here.

- Mrs Gidby's arrived, sir.
- Right.

About 8:30, he said he had something
to do and wouldn't be long.

I didn't notice until I woke up
and realised he'd not been back.

Did he say where he was going,
if he was meeting anyone?

No.

Was he much given to leaving you
alone of an evening

without saying where he was going?

When the black dog was on him.

And when would be the last time?

Wednesday night.

After the Moon Launch.

Eric had some business to talk
with Jeff about an upcoming episode,

so Hildy, Miss Slayton, drove me home.

How long had you been married?

Two years.

After his first wife died.

We met at St Martin's, he was my tutor.

All was well between you
and your husband, Mrs Gidby?

He had his dark days.

I loved him...

...but it's not easy
stepping into a dead woman's shoes.

I think if the police
had found who killed her...

That's what he couldn't let go.

How d'you mean?

We would be out sometimes
and he'd see a car

like the one that ran her
off the road, or think he had...

He thought he saw it last week
at the studios

and it sent him into a spin.

Excuse me.

I understand there's a dead body.

We're just taking particulars, sir.

Basic movements.

The who, what, why, where and when of it.

You're on light duties.

I can lift a pencil.

I thought we'd got things straight.

It came in.

Suspicious death on Banbury's
ground, but too big for 'em to deal.

What was I supposed to do?

Fetch me.

I left word.

You were in transit.

Well, I'm here now.

So you'd better talk me through it.

Is this Gidby's?

Been here overnight according to
the watchman who patrols the estate.

Saw it on his rounds about eleven.
Took it someone was working late.

Anything?

Few little cigarillos
in the ashtray, but no note.

Do you mind if I take a look?

You're exhibits officer.

It's an exhibit, isn't it?

I don't need my work double
checking, thank you very much.

You've settled back in all right, then?

Oh, yeah.

They've got me in a basement room.
There isn't even a window.

You're in the game. That's what counts.

Is it?

God knows what
I'm going to do without him.

We've been together
since Bendy, The Banana Boy.

One of our early shows.

Sappers together, weren't you?

Oh, yes.

Eric and me slung up bridges
from here to Timbuktu.

He was a great engineer.

Built all our models, you know?

Is that right?

Without his encouragement,

I'd probably still be
a Punch and Judy man.

It's how we started, me and Hildy.

All over the South Coast.

East Coast. Scotland. Wales. Isle of Man.

Pair of us
in a clapped-out old Austin Seven.

God knows how
she kept the old girl ticking over,

but we never missed a booking.

Digs when we were flush -
the beach when we weren't.

Perhaps that's where
I should have stayed.

That's the thing about television.

What is?

No live audience.

No "oohs" or "aahs".

That's what made it for me.

That's the thing you can't replace.

The looks on their faces.

Right, Banbury can finish
up with statements and forensics.

We're going back into town,

see if we can keep this attempted
with Humbolt ticking over.

Why... do you think
this is a coincidence?

Don't you?

Jeff Slayton's
personal assistant is murdered,

his scientific advisor dies in a car
crash intended for someone else,

and not 48 hours later
one of his puppeteers is found dead?

- I would say they were connected.
- To your way of thinking, maybe.

- It's suicide, isn't it?
- It's textbook.

Maybe, but we should at least run
a gun residue test

on the members of staff.

Give the impression
we know what we're doing,

- or that we give a damn.
- Morse...

Oh, I get it. I wondered how long
you could keep it buttoned.

Come to show us how it's done, have you?

Say there is more to it.

Nine times out of ten
these things are the spouse.

This isn't robbery.

You can't just find the first likely
prospect and fit them up for it.

- No, no...
- Come again?

You didn't mean that
how it came out, did you?

He spoke out of turn. Heat of the moment.

Fred, a word!

Not lost the old charm, then.

You'll never learn, will you?

How's he seem? The old man.

Working out all right under Box, is it?

Well... ask him yourself.

I tell you I ran into Joanie again?

Up at the magistrates,
with some young arsonist.

Well, boys will be boys.

You'd think so, wouldn't you?

But not in this case.

Young girl.

Teenager.

Flora Humbolt.

Aye-aye, look sharp. Here comes trouble.

Sergeants.

Miss Frazil.

I'll, uh...

So?

What's the story?

Well, there isn't one, yet.

They don't roll you boys out
cos someone choked on a fishbone.

Anything to do with the Adam Drake
car crash?

They said you were on that.

Did they?

Maybe "they" should
keep their collective mouths shut.

Drake was something to do

with Slayton's latest marionette
extravaganza, wasn't he?

It's under investigation,

as a separate inquiry.

For now.

Any suspicious circumstances?

Welcome home, by the way.

Home?

Back to town.

Back to square one, more like.

I'm living in a section house,

working with people
who'd sooner I was somewhere else.

It's like I'm going in circles.

So why did you come back?

All I hear, Jim Strange is poking
about this spate of heroin deaths.

Eddie Nero's game, wasn't it?

Nero's dead.

George Fancy, too.

I didn't know better,
I'd say you had unfinished business.

What's the worst thing
you have ever done?

The worst thing I've ever done?

You're asking me that now?

I'm not in the mood for this.

You're not going to break through

if you're not prepared to be
absolutely honest.

Look, before you say anything,
just answer me this.

What about the car keys
we found in Adam Drake's pocket?

- What about 'em?
- Whose are they?

Why has nobody come forward
to collect them?

What if Eric Gidby's suicide
is actually something else?

Like what?

Like something which explains
what happened to Adam Drake

and the person we all seem to have
forgotten about, Christine Chase.

That's who it's about?

- Who else?
- I don't know.

Are you doing it for her, or
are you doing it for you?

What does that mean?

What you said to Box at the start
of all this about reputation.

I'm just wondering
if you meant Drake's or yours.

Is that what you think?

I think you've been tucked
away in the bowels of the nick

and maybe you're
looking to prove a point.

The only thing that I'm trying
to prove is who's behind all this.

Now, maybe that doesn't that
matter much to you any more,

but it does still matter to me.

- Miss Thursday.
- Morse!

Jim Strange said he saw you at the
magistrate's with a Flora Humbolt.

Criminal damage.

That's right.

What can you tell me about her?

Er, well... nothing.

You're asking me to discuss a client.

I'm looking to find out about
her family situation.

There is such a thing
as case confidentiality.

Right.

So, what's this?

This is your latest, erm...

- My latest what?
- Well, whatever it is.

Project. Hobby.
Whatever you want to call it.

I call it
working for the welfare department.

Oh, and is that's what your
new look's about as well, is it?

- It's very, erm...
- Very what?

Very... "Soviet milk yields
are up this quarter, Comrade."

Don't take the piss.

No. It's very...

Doctor Zhivago.

You look like the girl
from Doctor Zhivago.

- Julie Christie.
- No. The other one.

Her daughter. With the - "Then
it's a gift", the balalaika.

You know, you can be
a real prick sometimes.

Oh. Nice language.

Thank you, Emily Dickinson.

Oh, there we go again.

I know you're smart.
We all know you're smart.

You don't have to prove it all the time.

Take a day off.

Well, thank you very much for your help.

Boyfriend?

Another one of Dad's.

Doesn't look much like a copper.

No.

You, er, giving the canteen
a rest today, sir?

I was just...

Extraordinary thing.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

Hell of a thing.

Brave as you like.

I was a boy when Alcock
and Brown crossed the Atlantic.

Everybody said that couldn't be done.

50 years on, it's the moon.

Man's reach, Thursday.

All's well, sir?

A sobering thing to discover

so late in life
that one is considered a fool.

Not you, sir.

Yes, I'm under no illusion.

I'm a figure of ridicule
to be openly mocked and scorned.

This Pelican is
an albatross around my neck.

Someone even mentioned it to Mrs Bright

at Canasta the other evening.

People laugh at me behind my back,
and even to my face.

It seems to me we're in the business
of keeping the Queen's peace

and preserving life and limb.

This campaign of yours -

you'll probably never know
how many lives you've saved.

Hundreds. Thousands, maybe,
by the time it's done.

I've always been able to rely on you.

Well, I must meet a representation
from the Oxford traders.

Up in arms about parking restrictions.

Look at me!

I can bounce really high.

Do you think I can bounce
as high as the moon?

Hello.

Hello! Hello.

You're the policeman.

From the other day.

Yes, that's right. Morse.

My parents are out.

Oh, well, actually, Miss Humbolt,
it was you I came to see.

Is it about Court?

- What I did?
- No. No, no.

I just wondered to ask you

if your father had ever mentioned
Heaviside Studios?

Where they make the puppet films?

That's right.

Adam invited us there.

Last half term.

Adam Drake?

Me and Matthew.

We could've perfectly taken the bus,

but Mother insisted on driving us
there, of course.

Why "of course"?

Because it's her all over.

Anything to do with the television.

Star-struck.

Whenever Adam was on,
we'd have to watch it.

She'd tell everyone
Daddy had been his tutor.

Well, what did you make of it?

It's a bit young for me,
but Matthew's mad on all of that.

And everyone was very nice.

A lady gave him some of the toys,

because Adam's quite important there.

I mean, he was.

Did you see much of him?

Adam?

He'd be at the house sometimes.

"Un ami de la maison,"
I think that's the phrase.

It's what Mother called him, anyway.

And did you like him?

No? Why?

I don't know.

You just get that feeling sometimes,
don't you?

I don't think he was a kind person.

Right.

You're taking your life, aren't you?

Interviewing a child who's
got nothing to do with the case

goes a bit beyond the remit
of an exhibits officer.

I was curious.

You'll be curious when the DCI
has your guts. Oh, bugger!

Bloody carpet tiles!

Every time I touch the door handle
or press for the lift.

What's wrong with lino?

It's how things are.

Funny.

There's a compere spot
going down the Legion,

but I wouldn't hold your breath.

I had a word with the guv'nor

about running a paraffin test
on the staff

just to be on the safe side.
Strange has drawn the short straw.

All staff in the studio's
handle the guns.

Decent cover for someone with a motive.

The wife, maybe?

If she was planning
on killing her husband.

But what that's got to do
with nobbling Humbolt's car...?

Mrs Humbolt drove the children
to the studio during half term

on Professor Drake's invitation.

He was a Punch and Judy man.

Who?

Slayton. Where he started out.

I used to like the Punch and Judy.

Clacton Bank Holiday
with Charlie and Billy.

Call them professors, don't they?
The blokes that do the act?

Yes. Yes, I believe so.

Maybe the DCI's right.

Just a coincidence that Drake links them.

I can't do these things.

Can you do these things?

I could work the ones in my old office.

I know.

Sod it! I'm going home.

Let me take you.

No, you're all right.
I'm not much company.

You mind your step.

You've had a bit of luck getting
back into CID, but luck can turn.

Trust me.

Come in.

Hello, sir.

Morse.

I'm not keeping you, am I?

No! No.

Just going through the quarterly
figures for fixed penalty offences

ahead of a pow-wow with ACC Bottoms
tomorrow at Division.

But no, please, come in.
What can I do for you?

Well, I'm looking to locate
any information Traffic may have

on a fatal road accident in
Wallingford about three years ago.

Lady's name was Patricia Gidby.

It was a hit and run, unsolved.

Well, that would have
fallen under Berkshire, of course,

before the merger. Gidby, you say?

That's right, sir. Patricia.

Something to do with the Drake inquiry?

Possibly, sir.

Very well.

There we are. See what we can do.

Thank you, sir.

You, erm... You're settling in
all right, are you?

Things are not what they were,
for any of us.

Perhaps at the time

when one doesn't always appreciate
one's good fortune,

but I'm sure Inspector Thursday will
be very pleased to have you back.

As indeed, albeit at one remove, am I.

Well...

Well, thank you, sir.

I can't help you if you're not
prepared to be completely honest.

Tell the truth and shame the devil.

And you drive the vehicle
AC-four-two-seven, is that right?

And the registration is?

Right.

Thank you.

Aye-aye, matey. So this is where
they've got you, is it?

Be it ever so humble.

Results from the swab tests.

Thought I'd run 'em by you
before the upstairs.

You being exhibits officer and all.

Anything?

Four of 'em tested positive
for having fired a weapon

in the last few days.

Slayton, his sister,
and both Mr and Mrs Gidby.

Right.

What's this I hear about heroin deaths?

Where d'you hear that?

Around.

Just something I'm looking into

for the Forward Planning
Steering Committee.

Sort of roving brief.

Budgetary.

Allocation of resources
between departments.

Right, well...

That's a nasty business, drugs.

Dangerous, too.

As George Fancy found to his cost.

I hope you're a more convincing liar
when it matters.

Your life may depend on it.

I'll be seeing you.

Matthew says a policeman came round.

Yes.

What did he want?

Flora?

He just wanted to talk.

About what?

Nothing much.

This and that.

What did you tell him?

WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?

Oh. Mrs Trellis. DS Morse, Thames Valley.

I was here the other day.

Aye, I remember you. She's not in.

Right.

Do they just have the one car?

Yes. She can't drive.

Have you been with them long?

Couple of years.

Nice to work for?

It's not my place to say.

But if it were?

If I wasn't Bible-raised, I might
lay my tongue to all sorts for her.

And him?

A right Hosea.

- Do they have a gardener?
- Oh, yes.

Had he just been,
the last time we came by?

It's just that there was a bonfire
at the bottom of the garden

and I'm curious what they could have
been burning at this time of year.

It's the handle of a handbag or purse.

I'm curious as to how it
ended up on a bonfire.

I found a bag the morning after.

I knew it wasn't Mrs Wingqvist's.

Too young for her.

She said it
belonged to one of the guests.

Where did you find it?

Under one of the beds. Upstairs.

You find all sorts.

Quite a tidying job, I expect.

Usually.

But not this time?

No.

It's usually like the Last Days
Of Sodom after one of their do's,

but I came around Thursday morning

and there wasn't a stick out of place.

And are they much given to parties?

Every third Wednesday.

Rain or shine.

Those have been there
since after the party.

No-one's claimed them.

Why would Christine Chase
leave her bag behind?

I don't think she did.
Not voluntarily, at least.

If something happened to her at
the party, someone would have known.

Well, what if they all knew?

But didn't say anything for fear
of the damage

it would do to their reputations?

I've checked the list of guests -
seven couples, seven cars.

None of which corresponds to the
keys we found in Drake's pocket.

There was another car.

So...

who's Mrs Wingqvist keeping quiet about?

'I never wanted it.'

To be frank, it turned my stomach.

You see, I love my wife.

She's enough for me.

All I've ever wanted.

It was Natalie put the idea in her head.

Isobel was bored.

It's no big deal. Everyone's doing it.

It's honest, unlike an affair.

Love your earrings.

Are they Biba?

Just, erm...

let it all hang out.

Christine Chase thought
she was coming to your house

on a date with Adam Drake,

but, of course, that's not what was
going on at all, was it?

There's no law against it.

Why did you burn
Christine Chase's handbag?

Did something happen at your party

that you couldn't afford
anyone to know about?

I don't know what you mean.

Adam Drake didn't leave
your house in his own car,

not because there
was anything wrong with it,

but because he couldn't find his keys.

I think they couldn't be found
because someone else had 'em.

Who took Adam's keys from the fruit bowl?

Is it the one person
you've left off the list?

'We'd taken the children
over to Christchurch Meadows.'

I was pointing out
the constellations to the kids,

the same way my father
had got me interested.

This perfect cloudless night.

That's when Isobel first broached it,

said it might put something back
into the marriage,

something modern.

I was afraid to lose her,
so I went along with it.

But Adam...

my former student, for God's sake!

If it had just been the physical,
I might have worn it,

but...

...Isobel became obsessed with him.

It was love! Fulfilment.

Do you think for a moment
I could have hurt Adam?

I was going to leave Larry for him.

We were going to go away together.

And was Drake serious about her?

Who knew with Adam?

He expected her to leave Larry.

He'd lately got rid of the woman
he was involved with

and he wanted her to follow suit.

Who was that?

I don't know.

Whoever she was, it was just
a bit of sport, Adam said.

But she'd been playing up.

The girl I was with...

I couldn't go through with it.

We were in the garden, then she left.

I had a swim, tried to clear my head.

I didn't do anything to Christine.

Well, somebody did.

Whose keys did Drake take?

Who are you all trying to protect?

All right, Mr Van Horne.

Perhaps you'd like to explain
how Adam Drake came to be found

with your car keys on his body.

We've spoken to the Wingqvists
and the Humbolts.

We know you attended a party there
on Wednesday night.

What happened with Christine Chase?
Did she change her mind?

And who said I was with her?

You picked out Adam Drake's car keys.

According to the rules of the house
that means you're entitled

to sleep with whatever girl he'd
brought with him.

She said she was feeling a bit woozy,

went off for a drink of water
and when she didn't come back...

...I went looking for her.

'She must have hit her head.'

'Nobody heard anything?'

I suppose they were all...

Otherwise engaged.

So why didn't you call an ambulance?

She was dead.

There was nothing anyone could have done.

So you scarpered and left everyone
else to clear up your mess.

She was Adam's date. Hm-mm?

So I called a cab.

Because you didn't want to explain

why you were leaving in such
a hurry, and unluckily for you,

Drake had pulled your keys
from the fruit bowl.

Right, Mr Van Horne, we will
continue this down the station.

Get your coat.

Well, somebody has been busy.

Bit beyond the call
for an exhibits officer.

This it, or you got any more
little surprises for me?

Just using his initiative, sir.

So, she dies in a fall,

and Van Horne leaves the mess
for them to sort out.

They're in so deep with his Single
Way mumbo-jumbo they cover it up.

Must be more to it than that.

Van Horne's got something on them.

Not necessarily.

"Girl dies in Oxford orgy."

Hard for reputations to survive
that kind of headline,

let alone academic careers.

So where are they?

The Humbolts and the Wingqvists
have been bailed.

What was Drake meant to do
with Christine Chase's body?

Take her back to her flat
and leave her there.

Except Van Horne's
gone off with Drake's car keys,

which means he has to
borrow Humbolt's car.

Hm-mm.

Then who fixed the brakes?

Just in from the information room,
sir. Young girl's gone missing.

Flora Humbolt.

Little brother's gone, too.
Looks like she's taken him with her.

"Please don't try and find us.

"You won't have to worry about us
any more."

She wouldn't do anything, would she,
to herself or the boy?

She wouldn't hurt Matthew.

What would you know?

We have talked to her, Mrs Humbolt,
at some length.

Talked to her!

You wanna try living with her!

You've no idea!

I'm her mother. She's not stable.

I'd have to concur
with welfare, Mrs Humbolt.

When I saw Flora yesterday
she seemed perfectly fine.

Oh, yes.

You're probably what's caused this.

The police!

All right, Mrs Humbolt, I think what
we need to do

is have a list of
the places that she used to go to...

Is this why you came asking after her?

Well, sometimes you've got to throw
a stone into the pool,

stir the silt.

And... And never mind who gets hurt?

They're children. If something happens...

They've not been taken by anyone.

They're not in any danger.

It's not the first time
a child has run away from home.

We'll circulate some photographs
and a description.

They can't have got far.

We will find them.

You'd better.

'Thames Valley Constabulary
has asked the public

'to be on the lookout for two
children missing in the Oxford area.

'Flora and...'

I've just got off the phone.

With what happened to Eric...

...Dinky's on a knife edge.

If they pull
out of the licensing deal...?

I'm going home.

Can you close up?

Well, the map book in Eric Gidby's
car was open to Edenbury.

There's oil on the page
and on a torch in the door.

There's a toolbox in the boot and
a jam jar filled with brake fluid.

You think he interfered
with Humbolt's motor?

He'd've had the know how.

But not the motive.

Well, Eric Gidby's first wife Patricia

was killed in a hit and run.

So?

So Larry Humbolt's car, the car
that Adam Drake was driving,

is an exact match, make and model,

and it's the only one of its kind
in Oxfordshire.

The registered owner of the vehicle
at the time of his wife's accident

was indeed Larry Humbolt.

I thought Humbolt
had only had the car a year.

He has. But Humbolt's car's
a cut and shut,

which is two cars welded together.

The back end of the vehicle is
the car that killed Patricia Gidby.

I think the dealers offered to file
the change of ownership,

but did so fraudulently, making it look

as if Larry Humbolt had always
been the owner of that vehicle.

It was the previous owner of the
vehicle that killed Gidby's wife.

How would he know what car Humbolt owned?

Because Adam Drake invited
the Humbolt children to the studio,

and their mother drove them there.

Gidby cut the brakes in revenge
for his wife's death

- and then killed himself.
- Who owned the car

at the time of the accident?

Er, well, unknown
associate of Eddie Nero.

Address in South Oxford.

Great, I'll let the ACC know
I've cracked it.

Me and Alan'll pick him up.
Put Van Horne to bed.

Get anything over there
into evidence. Fred...

I know, light duties.

No. Talk to Dr Humbolt.

I want chapter
and verse on who filed the reg.

They also serve.

How things are.

- Did you see them leave?
- Well, no, we didn't.

One minute they were there,
and the next they were gone.

- Well, I've told her.
- And?

Made a scene.

It's not like she can do
anything about it.

I don't know so much.

I wouldn't put anything past that one.

Hell hath no fury.

Afternoon, Dr Humbolt.

One or two questions
about the purchase of your car.

Sorry. I've just got back
from the solicitors.

I thought you were Isobel with the kids.

- How's that, sir?
- Isobel left a note.

You called, didn't you?

The police called about ten minutes ago

and said they'd been found.
She went to collect them.

From where?

I got it wrong.

It wasn't Eric Gidby who drained
the brakes on Humbolt's car.

Somebody's trying to frame him.

But Isobel Humbolt's on her way
to Heaviside now.

Hello?

Hello.

- Mrs Humbolt.
- Oh!

We met when you brought
your children here at half term.

Where are they?

Why in God's name
would the police bring them here?

Oh, I'm quite sure they wouldn't.

But they telephoned me.

No, that was me, Mrs Humbolt.

May I call you Isobel?

I feel as if I know you.

Hildegard Slayton.

Hildy?

Perhaps he mentioned me.

Who mentioned you?

- Adam.
- What?

I didn't mind about Christine
and the other young ones.

Well, of course, I minded,
but I knew they were just nothing.

But you...? You were different.

I don't understand.

I'm the other woman.

The other other woman.

The one that meant something to him
until you came along.

You're who he left?

He would never say who it was.

Really?

He told me all about you.

Every sordid little soiree.

I'm not listening to this.
I've used this before.

And mean to again, but you will
hear what I have to say first.

Or I will shoot you where you stand.

Please... I didn't know!

You knew someone was being cast
aside, you just didn't know who.

Adam didn't love you.

He was doing it to get at your husband.

Once he got bored of that, he was
going to drop you.

- That's not true.
- Oh, every word.

He told me.

He hated you. Both of you.

But you most of all.

You stupid, venal, bitch.

I hate her.

'It was just a bit of fun, you know?

'And she had to go
and turn it into some big thing.

'You want to know the truth about Hildy?

'She makes my flesh crawl.'

He was good at everything.

Even cruelty.

You don't deny it, then?
Your affair with Adam Drake.

I would have screamed it
from the rooftops.

Hilds? It's not true?

Why? Because I've always been
the sensible one?

Level-headed Hildy.

Boring and a bit bossy,
but devoted to the company.

While you dreamed of space rockets,
I took care of business...

And you always have.
That clapped-out old Austin Seven

you kept ticking over,
so you never missed a booking,

that's how you
knew your way round a motor.

You cut the brakes
on Isobel Humbolt's car.

But you couldn't have known
that instead of Isobel driving,

it would be the man you loved.

Eric Gidby told you that he'd seen
the car that had killed his wife.

The same car Isobel Humbolt was driving

when she visited the studios.

So you killed him
and made it look like a suicide.

She took my happiness.

Put the gun down.

How did she know the kids were missing?

Her brother said they heard
the appeal go out on the wireless.

It's my name on the charge sheet.

Just so we're clear.

He knows what he's doing.

Do you, though?

Still in the game, then?

We need to talk.

About George.

Not here.

Not now.

That's that, then?

No.

Have you found them?

Not yet. But I think I know
where they're going to be.

And when.

And that one?

That's Ursa Major. The Great Bear.

And that one?

You know that one. Orion.

Are the spacemen really up there now?

Flora.

- There you are.
- Where are you going?

Just here.
See how many stars you can count.

- We've been worried about you.
- Am I in trouble?

- No.
- No.

Are they?

I knew something bad was going to happen.

I thought grown-ups
were meant to be grown up.

They are, usually.

But not her.

She's so involved
in her own adult mess...

I don't know what they've done,
but please don't split us up.

- Matty needs me.
- No-one's even talking about that...

I promise you.

How did you know?

I don't know. I just did.

- Are you all right?
- Yeah.

- Yeah?
- I've been reading.

According to Cherokee myths,

there was a race
called the Moon-Eyed People.

Let's get your stuff.

They called them that because
they didn't see well in daylight.

Their eyes were more suited to the night.

Maybe you're one of them.

Hm.

You OK?

Come on.

Let's get you into the warmth.

Car's outside.

So where will they go now?

A period in care, most probably.

We're staying together!

Yes, you'll stay together.

Miss, Flora says
we might get a new mummy and daddy.

Can't we come and live with you?

With me?

Will you be our new mummy and daddy?

They're not married.
They're just friends.

Really?

Come on, then.

Let's see about getting you settled.

Thank you.

Destination, moon.

A lunar landing.

And for Neil Armstrong, one small step.

Lights on. 40ft down. Two and a half.

Kicking up some dust.

Four forward. Four forward.

Drifting to the right a little.

Contact light. OK, engine stop.

Tranquility Base here.
The eagle has landed.

OK. I'm going to step off the LM now.

That's one small step for man,

one giant leap for mankind.

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