All language subtitles for Endeavour.S03E01.720p.BluRay.FLAC2.0.x264-NTb-eng

The finding of this board
is that the tragic events

of last December,

which led to the shooting
of DI Thursday

and the arrest of DS Morse,

were due solely
to a mental breakdown

suffered by
A.C.C. Clive Deare.

We are also of a view
that further investigation

into other extraneous matters

would not be in
the national interest.

To which end,
all investigative materials

relating to Blenheim Vale
Boy's Home

are to be sealed for 50 years.

♪♪

♪♪

Donald Campbell's heroic attempt

at the speed record on Coniston
Water ended in tragedy.

Oxford, all change.

♪♪

I require assistance
of a beautiful lady.

Put your hand up.

Me?

And a brave gentleman.

♪♪

Get off me.

Jeannie, Jeannie!

Come on.

Will you not talk about it?

Can't.

Jeannie!

What was all that?

Oh, frog in my throat,
that's all.

Bullet in your chest more like.

Come on, don't fuss.

Fuss?

You weren't due back
till Tuesday.

It's work I'm off to,
not the front.

You said that last time.

Here.
What's that?

That for the fair.

Win us all a goldfish.

Now let me say cheerio
to your mother.

Here.

If you're going.

Where is it we're going?

About 12 miles out,
the woods by Lake Silence.

Have you seen him?

Not since he got out.

No one has.

I wasn't sure who it was.

Hello, Morse!

What happened there?

Oh, damn!

Bloody pheasant.

Thought I'd missed it.

How are you getting on?

Oh, you know.

I thought you might
fancy a drive.

Take you out of yourself.

Really?

Where?

Surprise.
Best bib and tucker.

How are you?

Right now it's not the state
of my health concerns me.

Dead about eight hours.

Say between 1:00 and 3:00
this morning.

But you didn't call me out here

'cause she was hit by a car.

No.

I called you out because
she was hit by the same car

several times.

Initial impact
about 50 yards that way.

There's a shoe.

She's been thrown,
then hit again

and dragged under the vehicle.

Finally, the car's reversed
over her.

Stand to.

Morning, sir.

Thursday, Doctor.

Well...

Here we all are again.

Where are we going?

To see some pals
on the other side of the lake.

You remember Bruce?

My second cousin?

Loosehead in the varsity match?

East Indies Steamship Company,
wasn't it?

The family firm.
That's right.

Well remembered.

So, do I "my lord" it or what?

Stick to "Bruce."

It's all terribly egalitarian
with the bluebloods these days.

Even I'm "Tony."

What's the trouble, officer?
Accident, sir.

Fatal.

Pretty little thing too.

Redhead.

Where is it you're trying to go?

North side of the lake.

It's only about two miles
up the road.
Take a left.

I don't suppose you
could just let me through.

Take a left, I know a detour.

Thank you, officer.

Just as a matter of interest,

what are you going to do
with yourself?

Oh, here he is.

What in God's name
do you call that?

Bluebell, actually.

Hundred quid says
I make it to the house first.

That's a hundred quid
you owe me, Tony.

Bruce, you remember Morse.

I don't...

Pagan?!

Good God!

Where the hell
did Tony find you?

He's at my parents'
old dascha for the summer.

Is he?

Well, come on in.

See anything of the old gang?

Not much.

No, you never were
the clubbable type.

Always thought too much,
that was your problem.

Was it?

So, what have you been up to?

Oh, this and that.

But not much of the other, eh?

Same old Pagan.

Still falling for the wrong girl
too, I'll bet?

Line your excuses up for lunch.

I must talk business with Tony.

Drinks in the drawing room.

Just follow the music.

Are you married?

No.

Good.

I was hoping to fix Elva up
with Julius Hanbury.

But look...

Bagged by a bloody actress.

As if I care.

Baronets are ten a penny
in Annabel's these days.

Perhaps I shall throw you
two together instead.

Well, you might at least
introduce us first.

Elva Piper, this is...

Morse.

And I'm Kay.

Champagne?

Why not?

Thank you.

What do you do,
Mr. Morse?

Nothing at present.

Are you one of the idle rich?

Idle, certainly.

What about yourself, Miss Piper?

I play a little tennis.

Don't tease.

Elva just happened to win
a little trophy

at the little French Open.

I thought I knew
all Bruce's friends.

It's Anthony I know better.

Anthony Donn.

He brought me over.

From London?

No.

From just across the water.

Who do you know there?

No one, really.

You must know Bixby.

Everyone knows Bixby.

Just bought that vulgar pile.

Right on the lake.
Bixby?

Mmm.

What Bixby?

It's my Jeannie.

She left the kiddie with me
last night when she went out,

only she never got back.

All right, Mrs. Hearne,
let's just take it slowly.

Went out where?

To the fair.

With some fella from the depot.

A mechanic, Albert.

Which depot?

Town and District.

She's a clippie on the buses.

Sorry, he's teething.

Albert Potter?

DS Jakes, City Police.

DI Thursday.

You got a minute?

Did you see her home?

No, she went on the Ghost Train
and I kind of lost her.

Kind of how?

Well, she wanted a toffee apple.

Only there was a queue and when
I got back, she was gone.

What time was this?

Gone 10:00.

I had a bit of a look for her,
but, I give up and went home.

We should do something.

I am doing something.

Beside getting drunk.

Why don't I get the Yi Jing?

Have you done it?

No.

It's fantastic.

It's a kind of Chinese
fortune telling book.

Darling, I know
I married a model,

but you really don't have to
fulfill everyone's expectations

of vacuity.

God's sake!

Is he going to do
that all day long?

There's talk

he's going to attempt to
break the speed record.

He's a daredevil.

He's my neighbor.

He has these parties.

Bixby's a bloody chancer.

Him and the rest of his
Belvedere set, so called!

Don't go on, it's so boring.

What the bloody hell's
this about now?

I didn't tell you, did I?

We came across an accident
on the way over.

Young girl got herself
more or less cut in half.

Some rather toothsome redhead,

according to the constable.

I can't think what they want to
come bothering us about it for.

They're probably speaking
to everyone local,

see if anyone knew her,
I'd expect.

Why don't the three of us go
into town and tie one on?

There's a fair, isn't there,
on the green?

We could all go.

I hate fairs.

Well, I must be on my way.

Thank you.
Tomorrow, then.

We'll come and dig you out!

Have some bloody fun.

All right, sir?

Will you follow me, please?

♪♪

All done?

All done.

Like nothing ever happened.

What was Jeannie Hans'
body doing at Lake Silence?

If she was taken from the fair?

Somewhere quiet.

Nobody about
at that time of night.

Very well.
Carry on.

Sir.
Oh...

I had an inquiry from
Gerald Ashborne's parents.

Student found dead in his rooms
at Carlyle College this morning.

The family are keen
to have the body

unless there's anything
untoward.

His mother knows my wife.

Flower arranging.

Of course, sir.

I'll chase it up.

♪♪

It's just you and Miss...?

Brawton.
Roselle.

And Mr. Swopes.

My brother-in-law.

He's a mute.

His lungs.

He was home on leave
when Coventry got bombed.

Wonderful what
the surgeons can do.

But even so.

So, what, he helps you out,
does he?

With certain, my stage affects.

Been hard for him to find work.

People are funny.

What's all this about?

Young woman found dead
by Lake Silence

yesterday morning.

She attended the fair
Thursday night.

Red head, twenties.

We're just looking to see
if anybody remembers her.

We don't really see
anything of the punters,

they're just shadows
beyond the footlights.

Her boyfriend said she came up
and helped out with your act.

Really?

You don't remember her, then?

No. I'm sorry.

No.

All right, thank you,
Mr. Newton.

That'll be all for now.

Next!

This way, sir.

Miss Hicks?

I'm only to use it
in an emergency.

Any message, if I find him?

I'll leave you to get on, Miss.

Mr. Thursday...

He doesn't want to be found.

No, I'm fine.

Mr. Morse, how are you?

I can't hear you.

Oh come, come with me.

He has a man flies around
scouring the palaces of princes

and maharajahs.

Can you imagine?

The loot of the world.

Some of these pieces
are priceless.

Literally.

Some of them are worthless...
Literally.

This... it's a copy.

Fake.

A good one, but...
I doubt that.

He's as rich as Croesus.

I've seen it.

The real painting hangs
in the Rijksmuseum.

How do you know?

Maybe this is the real one,

and the one in the Rijksmuseum
is the fake.

I think the curators
might've noticed.

They might.

Then again...

Perhaps for your next trick
you can pull our host

from that top hat,
and we can ask him.

Be delighted.

Et voilà.

I'm sorry, old man,

I thought you knew.

I'm Bixby;
my friends call me Bix.

Morse, isn't it?

Anthony said it was.

Yes... you know Anthony?

He's been my guest many times,
both here and in London.

I've a place on Berkeley Square,
the Belvedere.

Perhaps you know?

I'm afraid there are things
to which I must attend.

Do you have everything you want?

Which of us can answer
yes to that?

Present company, obviously.

If you're free tomorrow,
come and watch me put Redtail

through her paces...
My hydroplane.

Say about 11:00?

Bix, I must speak to you...

Not now, Roddy.

Harry!
Bix!

How are you?

Oh...

You know.

Liver still works.

How did you find me?

It was my lung got a hole in it,
not my brain.

Monica.

She's worried.

How long you been holed up here?

Since I got out.

I went to your flat.

They put you in hospital

and tried to frame me
for murder.

Couldn't put anyone else
at risk.

You might tell her that.

You've seen the findings, then.

The white wash.

What did you expect?

Better.

We broke them.

The worst are gone.

What's left scattered
to the four winds.

And I'm light one bag man.

Ask Jakes.

Situation's not vacant.

He spoke for you, Strange too.

Mr. Bright... it's over.

Not for me.

You live in the shadows long
enough you forget the sunlight.

I'm... I'm finished with it.

You didn't put your papers in.

Oh, I'm still suspended,
pending inquiry.

They want me gone,
they can fire me.

Then what?

You're just going to sit here
feeling sorry for yourself?

We've got a woman disappeared
off the ghost train

at the fair last night.

She was found dead this morning
about three miles from here.

I can't.

I'm not the same.

I wouldn't be any use to you.

No?

No.

Well.

Fair enough.

Mind how you go.

Why would you go back?

After everything?

There's a town needs looking to.

That doesn't change just because
I've dropped a suit size.

Throw the towel in now,
it was all for nothing

and the bastards won.

I found something.

Back up the road from the body.

It's a scorecard
from the North Oxford Golf Club.

Yesterday's date.

The players' names
haven't been entered

but their handicaps
and the scores per hole.

Should narrow it down.

There's a Cowley telephone
number on the back.

That's the best I can do.

Good luck with it.

I've spoken to the club, sir.

They're running me off
a list of members

who booked to play
a round on Thursday.

And the telephone number?

A call-box sir.

Across the road from
Jeannie Hearne's house.

Ah, Jakes.

Any luck at the fair?

One or two with minor form, sir.

Nothing like this.

We've been over Jeannie
Hearne's footsteps

so far as Albert Potter
can remember them.

And?

They went on a few rides,

took in a magic show,
shooting gallery.

Potter says he won her a monkey.

500 pounds?

Stuffed, sir.

What?

Soft toy.

Ah.

No sign of it as yet, sir.

Nor her handbag.

You must be mad.

Why would you risk all this?

"If you can make a heap
of all your winnings;

and risk it all in one turn
of pitch and toss..."

Did you hear about
this dead girl

found on the lake road
yesterday?

A constable came by.

I don't think she was local.

Staff, maybe from one of the
houses on the north side.

Speaking of which,

Tony said you know
the Belboroughs.

You must bring them over.

I don't think Bruce
is your cup of tea.

Lady Belborough, then.

I should like to know
all my neighbors.

A matter of fact, I'm having a
masked ball here tomorrow night.

You should invite them.

Another party?

You can have too much
of a good thing, you know.

Oh, can you?

I can't.

Tony tells me that you
were both at Oxford with him.

With Belborough.

Yes.

For a while.

I was at Harvard myself.

But all the important things in
life I learned at the tables.

You a betting man?

My father played the horses.

One gambler in the family's
quiet enough.

Oh, you must come
to the Belvedere.

As my guest, of course.

You get to know the truth
of a man at cards.

And what's the truth of you?

Sportsman?
Gambler?

Tycoon?

Who's the real Joss Bixby?

I wonder myself, old man.

I wonder myself.

Bruce?

Really, old man,

it's nothing very remarkable.

My parents died
when I was young.

My inheritance was held in trust
until I reached majority.

I traveled a bit, I got
to know the stocks business.

You see, the truth of it's
altogether dull.

But these are my real passion.

The new Klipspringer
Continental.

She was delivered this morning.

Why don't you take her
for a spin?

Ah, it's a bit too fast for me.

I'd be more at home
in something like that, maybe.

She's yours.

Don't be ridiculous.

You hardly know me.

Gambler's instinct.

You're a straight bat, old man.

Knew it as soon as I saw you.

What's your line,
if you don't mind me asking?

Didn't Anthony say?

He said you'd had a bit
of trouble somewhere,

but he didn't say what kind.

And I didn't press him.

He was discreet.

Let's just say I am
reviewing my options.

Well, I could use

a good corner man.

Why don't you come and work for
me while you make your mind up?

Doing what, exactly?

Keeping me out of trouble,
in the main.

Why, do you get much of that?

Anyone who ever made
a deal made an enemy.

You seem to be doing all right
so far.

Luck of the draw, old man.

One was damned
and one was saved.

The toss of a single coin.

God called it, not me.

Jesus!

Bit before his time actually.

Book of Numbers,
chapter 32, verse 23.

"You have sinned
against the Lord

and be sure your sin
will find you out."

I've found something
under her nails.

I've sent it for analysis.

Let you have the findings
as soon they're through.

Blood results in on your sudden.

Undergrad Gerald Ashborne.

Chinese heroin.

Number three variety.

New for these parts,
and rather worrying.

How's that?

This Chinese stuff varies
in strength enormously.

Results are somewhat hit,

and in the case of the late
Gerald Ashborne,

a rather resounding miss.

Right.

Thank you, Doctor.

♪♪

♪♪

Evening, officer.

Hello, matey.

Last place I'd have
expected to see you.

I mean...

Not sure it's your color.

Bloody pickpockets, isn't it?

Where they dump the empties.

Here, cop that.

There's a few more under there.

Not belonging to this dead girl
there's not.

Leopard print handbag,
wasn't it, the paper said?

Jeannie Hearne?

Trust you!

We've been tearing the county
apart looking for that.

You found it, not me.

Congratulations, by the way,
Sergeant Strange.

Yeah, well.

Not piles, eh?

Any leads on this dead woman?

The brains trust have retraced
her route around the fair.

Shooting gallery, magic show.

Did you look at the Ghost Train?

They did.

And no sign she was ever there.

No blood, nothing.

What are you doing
poking around anyway?

Actually I came to have a go
on the attractions.

If you say so.

We were all rooting for you.

And the old man.

Bright had him under
24-hour armed watch.

Never left his side till
he was out of the woods.

How was it?

"It"?

Prison "it"?

How do you think?

Safest place you could've been.

It didn't feel
very safe at the time.

You being banged up bought us
room to get it squared away,

clear your name.

Well, I'd better get
this back to the nick.

I'll be seeing you.

The item is...

A gentleman's wallet!

And now, for my next trick,

I require the assistance
of a beautiful woman

and a very brave gentleman.

Yes, madam, you!

And you, perhaps you, sir,
if you'll be so kind.

Let's give them
a round of applause.

It is you!

Oh.

We called at the house
to pick you up.

Everyone's here.

You didn't fancy the show?

I told you, I don't like fairs.

Besides, you've seen
one trick...

Come and buy me a drink.

Then you can win me something.

Five out of six.

Five? You sure?

I do believe
he's got you, Bruce.

What's for the face card?

That's the big prize.

Oh!

Well done, old man!

Well done.

A kiss was for the runner-up,
wasn't it?

Oh look,

a man-eater.

How apt.

Keep me warm.

Wotcher.

Any word on Jeannie Hearn's
handbag?

Oh yeah, well done, Jim.

It's with the old man.

Actually it was Morse
who identified it.

He was there, wasn't he,

at the fair,
having a poke around?

Thursday's seen him.

Apparently he's living
in some shack in the woods,

running with some posh set
by the lake over Cacklebury.

Posh set?

It doesn't sound like him.

Prison, maybe.

Changes a man.

So is he coming back or what?

Your guess is as good as mine.

I wouldn't hold your breath.

What's this?
Eat, drink, and be merry?

As the fellow says, old man,

it's just one go
round the board.

Harry Rose,

meet my good friend
and neighbor, Mr. Morse.

I want you to look after him
for me this evening.

Make sure that
he has a good time.

Be a pleasure.

Will you excuse me, Bix?

Who's that?

The man that fixed
the World Cup.

The trophy that went
missing last year?

All that in the papers
about a dog finding it?

It was Harry got it back.

Made a nice bit of money
as a finder's fee too.

Look, here's Tony.

I must leave you, old man.

Someone's pushed the boat out.

He's got a trial run
at the record tomorrow.

Let's get a drink.

Heard anything more about
this dead girl we saw?

I told you, I'm out of it.

Says in the papers
she went missing at the fair.

It's all anyone's talking about.

Found right on the doorstep,
as it were...

Well, well, Mr. Morse.

Back for seconds?

Now there's a turn up.

Is this your doing?

No.
Really?

Bruce!

Ah, hello, Tony, how are you?

Oh, Pagan.

Hello.
Hello, darling.

Kay.

Bruce, may I introduce
Joss Bixby.

Bix, this is Lord Belborough

and his wife, Lady...

Hello, Kay.

You've met?

Just now on the stairs.

Tony tells me a man might get

a decent game of cards
around here.

You might.

Later, perhaps.

All work, Bixby?

I'm sorry, old man?

Trade.

The White Man's Burden.

If you'll excuse me a moment.

You won't forget about our game
of cards, will you, old man?

Bloody upstart.

He's all right.

Oh, is he?

Is he?

Did you hear that, Tony?
Pagan says he's all right.

If it's going to be bloody,
why did you come?

Same reason
as everybody else here.

To see what all
the fuss was about.

You'll have to forgive
my husband.

He's been drinking since...

You don't have to make excuses.

Not to me.

I know Bruce of old.

Dance with me.

Please.

Is everything all right?

I've been a fool, that's all.

If there's anything I can do...

I never should have
agreed to come.

Mind if I cut in, old man?

Hello.

Is it really you?

Cigar?

No, no, thank you.

They make a nice couple,
don't you think?

How is it you know Bixby?

He advises me on my
investments now and again.

But as friends
we go back a long way.

Bix's got everything,
wouldn't you say?

Pretty much.

Deserves it, too.

Nobody more.

Now if only he could find
himself a nice girl

and settle down.

Well, it's from the Belvedere,

but how this Miss Hearne
came by it...?

Any chance she was here?

Well, it's possible.

Either here, or in London,
or she knew someone who has.

There must be thousands
of these chips.

People hang on to them
sometimes.

For luck.

Didn't bring Miss Hearne much
of that, however she came by it.

Well, unless there was
anything else, Inspector,

it's a poor host
neglects his guests.

Sir.

Excuse me a moment, will you?

Sir.

What was all that?

Police business.

I might ask you the same.

Harry Rose?
Who is he?

King of the one-armed bandits.

There isn't a slot machine
in England

doesn't have his dabs
all over 'em.

He's been away.

Got out Thursday morning.

The same day Jeannie Hearne
was killed.

His number's
in her address book.

And this was in her handbag.

It's from the Belvedere.

Bixby's place.

Some nice company
you're keeping.

Oh, and Mr. Bright's seen
your inquiry lifted by the way,

you ever decide you want
to get back to work.

Why does Bruce call you Pagan?

Long story.

It's a joke at my expense

because I don't have
a Christian name.

You must.

Not one that I care to use.

What does it start with?

I bet I can guess.

Hold out your hands.

Kay...

Hold out your hands.

Right.

Now.

Look into my eyes.

A? B? C? D?

E? F?

E?

It is, isn't it?

Quite a trick.

Where did you pick that up?

A misspent youth.

Don't change the subject.

E... E for what?

Embarrassment mostly.

It's just a name.

Almost nobody in modeling
goes by their real name.

"A rose by any other..."

What?

You remind me of someone.

Good someone or bad someone?

Both.

Are you falling in love with me?

Men do.

I can see how that might happen.

Then why don't you kiss me?

It's Elva you're
supposed to fall for.

Bruce...

Bruce doesn't give a damn.

He's got a girl in town.

Don't you know that?

A bus conductress of all things.

"Room for one more on top!"

There you are!

Thank God.

Don't "old man" me.

You could've left the table
any time you wanted.

No one was holding
a gun to your head.

I bet you could probably arrange
for that too, couldn't you?

Where's Kay?
We're leaving.

Welch here, and there won't be
a table open to you in London.

You lost fair and square.

I'll lose to a straight house,
not to a crooked racket.

Keep your voice down.

Oh, you want your money,
don't you?

All these people here
can't see what you are,

but I can.

And what's that, old man?

Afraud.

Well, sooner a fraud

than a Blackshirt's bastard.

Bruce, please!

What are you, his big pal now?

Don't forget who your
real friends are.

Where's my wife?

You don't have to go.

I'll be back.

"You don't have to go."

That's what Harry
was getting at too.

It's Kay.

That's who it's about?
That's what you want?

Wouldn't you?

If you loved someone
and lost them

and had a chance
to make it right.

No matter how much you want it,
you can't turn the clock back.

Of course you can.

Of course you can, old man.

What do they say?

Time is money.

I'd have killed every man
in that room to have lived

just one more hour in her eyes.

Bix, you could have any woman
in the world.

What were you doing
at the fair last night?

I saw you there.

I wondered if any of the
sideshows might be available

for this evening.

Nothing to do with
Jeannie Hearne, then?

That's twice I've heard
that name tonight.

The first person
to ask was a policeman.

So's the second.

Ah.

I don't know her.

Sorry, old man.

Come on.

I need to clear my head.

On a night like this,

a man might believe
anything's possible.

Will you come and watch
tomorrow,

when I go for the run?

I've seen enough death.

What do you need to prove?

That I'm as good a man as Bruce.

If she sees that, she might...

Well, maybe she'll come back.

Don't you think?

Anything's possible.

Good luck.

You too, old man.

You too.

Bix?

Bixby?

Bixby?

All right?

Morse?

There was a car.

I saw its headlamps
through the trees.

That was around half five.

The shot came about
20 minutes later.

Did he ever mention any enemies?

No, not to me.

But somebody vandalized
one of his cars the other day.

Left him some kind of,
I don't know, a warning.

About what?

It was Old Testament stuff.

"Be sure your sin
will find you out."

Any chance he did for himself?

Oh, I wouldn't have said so.

She's up on his bedroom wall.

He must have carried a torch.

They were both here last night,
Bruce and Kay.

Bixby took Bruce for 75,000.

75,000?
Pounds?

That's nothing to Bruce.

It wasn't about the money.

What was it about?

He just wanted to make Bruce
look small in Kay's eyes.

Bruce got it into his head
to call Bixby a cheat.

There was a row.

Where will I find them?

Across the lake.

There's something
Kay said to me last night.

She'd an idea
Bruce had a mistress.

In town, a bus conductress.

Jeannie Hearne?

Bruce is a bully... always has
been... but a murderer?

I can't see it.

Shotgun.

Point blank to the face.

Any chance it could have
been self-inflicted?

No weapon would suggest not.

Given the injuries,

I'll need a set of latent prints
from the house

to confirm it's Bixby.

Check his right-hand pocket,

you'll find a gold
gambling chip.

His lucky charm.

Get the lake dragged,
50-yard arc.

See if the gun's in there.

You'll have to come in.

Tomorrow'll do.

Get your head down
for a few hours.

You've been up all night.

No, I'm fine.

I can start now.

I meant to make a statement.

I found him.

He's a...

Afriend?

You know these people, you can't
be part of this inquiry.

You want to make yourself
useful, see if you can't get

any further on the
Jeannie Hearne angle.

Step to, then.

I thought...

It doesn't matter how far you
run, or how hard you scrub,

it's there.

The stench of it.

Everything we touch.

It gets so you don't notice.

That's what worries me.

Morse?

Good heavens.

Inspector Thursday said
you might be in,

but I didn't think today.

Well, the fair packs up
tomorrow, sir.

Just so.

What happened, I...

I can't change yesterday, but...

A better tomorrow, yes?

For all of us.

Sir.

I think I met Bixby

briefly some years ago
in Juan-les-Pins.

And there was never
anything between you?

No.

Not on my part.

And there's no reason
you can think of

why he'd have a photograph
of you on his bedroom wall?

None.

You told someone last night
that you believed your husband

was involved with a bus
conductress.

I told Morse that in confidence.

And Detective Constable Morse
repeated it to me in confidence.

Where did you hear it?

Afriend.

Elva Piper.

Friends like that.

Did Miss Piper give you
the name of this woman?

No.

It's just gossip.

I wonder, then, Lady Belborough,

if you could account for your
movements Thursday evening.

I was here.

Alone.

We went on a few rides...
Merry-go-round,

dodgems, magic show.

Jeannie wanted me to go on stage
with her for a trick,

but the magician picked some
other bloke out of the audience.

What did he look like?

Normal working bloke.

Thirties, specs.

Doug, he gave his name as.

You didn't notice him
or anyone else

following you around the fair
afterwards?

No.

No, why?

We were just having fun.

You won her a prize at the
shooting gallery, is that right?

A monkey?

I think the fella
must've felt sorry for me.

Or else he fancied Jeannie.

I couldn't hit a barn door
at ten paces.

Where were you between
4:00 and 6:00 this morning?

Asleep on the sofa.

Tony Donn and my wife
will confirm that.

What about Thursday?

Play any golf, my lord?

I'm afraid I side
with those that think

it's a good walk spoiled.

And the evening?

I had some drinks in town
with Tony.

Why?

There was a woman found dead

Good Friday morning
on the lake road

about two miles from here.

Jeannie Hearne.

Did you know her?
No.

Whatever gave you that idea?

Actually, sir, your wife.

She's of the impression
you were carrying on

with a bus conductress.

It happens Miss Hearne
was a clippie.

My wife, Inspector,
is very highly strung,

an hysteric personality often
given to flights of fancy.

You'll have no objection if
Sergeant Jakes has a look

at your car, then?

I'm afraid my car was stolen

from Oxford station
on Wednesday.

You'll find that I made
a full report.

All the good it'll do.

Well, her boyfriend said
you gave her a stuffed toy.

Why was that?

He said he hadn't won anything.

Got to cast your bread.

Punters see a good-looking girl
walking round with a prize,

might have a go themselves.

Where are they from, the prizes?

I don't know... Far East, maybe?

I'm looking after the pitch
for a pal.

He's laid up.

Done his back.

Why, what's your usual line?

Dreamland, Margate.

Penny arcade there, slots.

Didn't you say that
was Harry Rose's business?

Slots, drugs.

Racketeering, you name it.

Harry Rose has been at it since
the devil was in short trousers.

Right.

Have you seen them?

Cheese and pickle.

The Belboroughs?

All bar the tennis player.

She stayed at the Randolph.

The rest haven't had a decent
alibi between them for Bixby.

Though your mate Anthony Donn
says he was with Belborough

the night Jeannie was killed.

You really think there's
a connection between that bloke

at the shooting gallery
and Jeannie Hearne?

Oh, I don't know.

Maybe it was free advertising
giving Jeannie that monkey.

I'm just stumbling around,
really.

It's what you're good at.

The first week
I hardly slept at all.

Kept thinking I'd be found

hanging from the bars
of the cell

or take a dive
from the top walk.

I kept expecting to hear
boots on the landing,

the key in the door,
but nobody came.

A month.

I didn't know if you
were alive or dead.

That was the worst of it.

Well, no, not quite.

The worst was knowing
it was my fault.

I was too slow.

My stupidity almost left
Mrs. Thursday a widow, and...

I knew walking into Blenheim
Vale that I might not walk out.

That's the job, I suppose.

Something bad like that?

Sometimes you've to put all
you are against all they've got.

It was my decision.

I'd do it again
without a second thought.

Don't ever blame yourself.

If I'd have been quicker
off the mark...

You were there at the end,
nobody else.

You had the chance to run,
to look to your own neck.

You didn't.
You stood.

A pinch like that, it's not
brain that counts, it's guts.

I won't forget it.

Ever.

Oh, for God's sake,
I can't stand this.

I'm getting out of here.

To see her?

Well? Aren't you?

Coward.

Joss Bixby's more of a man dead
than you'll ever be alive.

Bruce!

Stay out of it, Tony!

This is between me and my wife.

I'm going to stay at the club.

Of course you are.

Where do they all come from?

The props and so forth?

Oh, some I've had made

and others I got at auction.

What about this?

Oh, that's from a collection.

I bought them from James Green,
a colleague of mine.

The right illusion can keep
a magician in work for years.

I'm quite partial
to the old abracadabra.

I had an uncle used
to magic a penny

from behind my ear
when I was a boy.

I could never work it out.

Years of preparation
and rehearsal

come down to a single heartbeat

in which one makes
the impossible...

A reality.

Miss Hearne's boyfriend
said she took part

in some kind of a gun trick
here the night she died.

She had red hair, if that helps.

Didn't notice.

Sorry.

The gun trick requires
absolute concentration.

You see, we have
here a revolver.

If you care to examine it,
you will see

it is perfectly normal
in all regards.

Likewise, two bullets,
if you would be so good.

Your brother-in-law,

Mr. Swopes, might he
have seen anything?

No, he would have been
backstage,

preparing the props
for the next bit of the show.

Anyway, his eyesight
is rather poor.

We can agree
this pistol has worked.

Roselle?

Inspector?

You must stay

perfectly still.

Behold,

I show you a mystery!

So the second bullet
was a blank.

A magician must keep
his secrets, Inspector.

Even unto the grave.

Perhaps Mr. Swopes
will be more forthcoming.

Mr. Swopes?

Mr. Swopes?

I can't believe it.

Andrew?

Murder a woman for drugs?

He hadn't exactly
taken the trouble

to conceal the evidence,
Mr. Newton.

The soft toy was just lying
there in his caravan.

Of course, he's never been
right after Coventry.

He might've got over Betty.

But his son, babe in arms.

Terrible thing to lose a son.

Whatever he lost
doesn't excuse murder.

We've put out a general alert.

He won't get far.

Not with a face like that.

It just doesn't seem
like Mr. Swopes.

He was always so kind.

And I'd get upset sometimes
over my mum and dad,

and he'd do his best
to cheer me up.

Even lent me his scrapbooks.

Why, what happened
to your parents?

They died, two years this June.

Car accident.

How I ended up doing this.

Make ends meet.

This'll finish Mr. Newton...

Zambezi.

I'll need to keep hold of these.

I'll let you have them back
when I'm done with them.

We've had it tested,

what our little friend
had stuffed in his belly.

It's confirmed.

Chinese heroin.

Jeannie Hearne was
the go-between, right?

That's why you gave her
the prize.

It was nothing to do
with "casting your bread."

Drug run, was it?

Fair's in town
every bank holiday.

You pass a new shipment
on to Jeannie Hearne.

Then who's it meant for?

Harry Rose?

Bixby?

And where does Swopes fit in?

Or was he just helping himself?

Look, you're just a small cog
in a big machine,

but we've got a kid
dead of the stuff.

An Oxford student,
Gerald Ashborne,

killed by your heroin.

It's a long stretch, Clem.

You scratch our back...

I'm saying nothing
till I've seen my brief.

So save your breath.

Thought you'd turned in
your tin star.

I thought there was a choice.

Seems we were both wrong.

I went by Bixby's.
Ah.

Seems very forlorn...
Lights out, staff gone.

Look...

If things go bad,
can you keep me out of it?

For old times?

Bruce said he was with you the
night Jeannie Hearne was killed.

I was with him the early part
of the evening, but about 9:00,

I lent him the keys to my car
and he went out.

Where?

To meet Jeannie Hearne?

It's really not me
you should be asking.

Six months ago,
you introduced Jeannie Hearne

to Bruce Belborough,

the chairman of the
East Indies Shipping Company.

A useful connection,

if you're looking
to import Chinese heroin.

Maybe your pal Bixby
was in on it.

You sure you won't
try the moules?

No one does them
quite like Pedro.

It was the same variety
of Chinese heroin

that did for Gerald Ashborne,
a student at Carlisle College.

We think Jeannie Hearne

was skimming off your heroin
and making up the shortfall

with milk powder,
knocking out the difference

to students for a bit of bunce.

Maybe you took
exception to that.

Saturday night,
I saw Bixby at the fairground.

What was he doing?

Looking for your heroin?

You're wrong.

You couldn't have seen him.

No? Why not?

Because I was with him
at his place

till, well, well after
the fair closed down.

Maybe Bixby did a deal

with Jeannie and Swopes.

Then they double crossed you.

Now two of them are dead
and the third's gone AWOL.

But I loved Bix

like my own a son.

A son.

Do you think I could harm
a hair...?

Your theory is
this Clem character

brings the heroin to Oxford
and passes it

to Jeannie Hearne,
who was acting as some sort of

go-between for Rose?

That's about the size of it,
sir.

Either Swopes was in on it
from the start

or most likely got wise
to their racket

and decided to help himself.

Did Swopes kill
Jeannie Hearne for the heroin?

She had something
under her nails, didn't she?

Drug related?

Too soon to say, sir.

Dr. DeBryn has sent it
for analysis.

And where does Bixby fit in?

He doesn't.

Beyond the fact that he knew
Harry Rose.

And the gold chip
from the Belvedere

found in Jeannie Hearne's
handbag.

I don't think we can take that
as proof

he had anything to do with it.

Well, it could have been given
to her by Harry Rose.

Who was he, Bixby?

Dr. DeBryn has not been able
to locate

any medical records for him.

No records of any sort

until he materialized four years
ago to open this gambling club

in Berkley Square.

Man of mystery.

Just so, sir.

Well, somebody killed him.

Perhaps there's evidence
at the house.

I'll take a look,
unless there's any objection.

All right, Morse,
don't let us keep you.

It's good to have him
back around the place.

Both of you, of course.

But is he up to it,
because Bixby was his friend?

Morse knows his duty, sir.

♪♪

Kay?

Kay?

Kay... Kay, can you hear me?

Kay?

Come on, the doctor
will be here soon.

Kay?

Can you hear me?
Come on, stay awake.

That's it.

A policeman?

Yes.

You took us in.

That was never my intent.

What was?

He was in love with you.

I can't help that.

You knew him.

No.
Yes.

Before.

I found a letter.

Don't, please.

"By the time you read this,
I'll be gone.

"Don't come after me.

"You're my heart, Charlie Greel,
but every time I look at you...

"I've got to put it behind me
and start again.

"We let the stars go.

Kathy."

You're Kathy.

And Bixby was Charlie.

"Every time I look at you..."

What?

What is it you had
to put behind you?

Don't you want to know
what killed him?

Will that bring him back?

Well, if you...
if you loved him...

Love?

We were kids.

You wouldn't understand.

No, I don't.

You see?

How soon it turns.

Us in the car.

That night under the trees.

If Tony hadn't found us
when he did...

You can still have me.

Kay...

Bruce is in town,
the staff are gone.

Make me feel something.

Anything.

Oh, God.

It was your car I saw.

You came back.

To tell him to forget about me.

He said...

He said he couldn't.

Did you see anyone else
hanging around the grounds?

I came back when
I heard the shot.

There was no sign of him.

Only you.

Morse?

What the hell's going on?

There was a call.

Very late, a business emergency.

I had to leave at once
for London.

We all thought it was you.

Oh, one evening suit looks very
much like another, I suppose.

It must have been
Roddy Farthingale.

You saw him before, I think,
that night we met.

What happened?

When I got back to the house,
Roddy was still there,

looking rather the worse.

He'd gambled away his family
fortune at the table.

And more.

I told him to go abroad,
get out of the country.

He must not have been able
to face it,

took his own life, poor chap.

But we found your gold poker
chip in his pocket.

He was in such a state,
I gave it to him for luck.

If I hadn't been called away...

Well, you ought to let Kay know
you're all right.

She's in a pretty bad way.

This is yours.

I've read it, I'm afraid.

Charlie Greel?

Is dead and gone.

If East End barrow boys can
become world famous snappers...

The world has changed.

You can be anything you want.

I chose to be Joss Bixby.

The porter hasn't seen
Ronnie Farthingale

since Friday.

Not that one would expect to
over Easter necessarily.

We thought he must have gone
back to his estate.

I'll need his next of kin.

Well, there's a great-aunt,
I believe,

but his parents are deceased.

What about friends?

Someone who might shed some
light on his state of mind?

Did Roddy Farthingale
know Gerald Ashborne?

Gerald Ashborne?
The overdose?

They were inseparable,
according to the bursar.

I found these in Roddy
Farthingale's bureau.

Presumably Roddy found Gerald
dead and tidied up.

Spare his parents' feelings.

Unless they were both addicts.

This is the body

of Roddy Farthingale, then,
not Joss Bixby.

The coroner does tend to get
picky about that sort of thing.

Ah, and the last word
on Jeannie Hearne.

It's polyurethane
under her nails.

Results came in this morning.

Also traces of rosin,

copal, isopropyl alcohol,

and silica.

When they said you were dead...

North Oxford Golf Club's
finally got their finger out.

About that scorecard you found.

There's two members played that
day with a seven handicap.

One of them was
Bruce Belborough.

Only the game was booked
in the name of his oppo,

a Mr. Outis.

We're bringing him in now.

Want to come?

Was your lead.

He was a friend once.
Sort of.

Bad luck.

Alva, call my solicitor.

Oh, God.

Search the grounds, Jim.

Twelve-bore.

36-inch barrel.

Spot the deliberate mistake.

Or rather, I suspect,
non-deliberate.

The barrel's too long for his
fingers to reach the trigger.

This wasn't suicide,

it was murder.

What are we doing here,
Charlie, of all places?

The last night of the pitch

always belongs
to the show folk, Kathy.

You know that.

Do you remember we always used
to go round the attractions

when the fair had closed and
all the punters had gone home?

It was just you and me
in the whole world.

It was never just you and me,
though, was it?

No.

No, but it is now.

Sir.

I've just come
from Dr. DeBryn.

Roddy Farthingale
wasn't suicide.

There's more.

Roddy always wore
a diamond-point bow tie.

But the body I dragged from the
lake was wearing a club round.

There's a reason magicians
always use doves

and white rabbits in their act.

Charlie?

Long time.

I brought an old friend
to see you.

We found your car.

I know things didn't
end so good.

But I've done all right,
made something of myself.

When I saw you were in town,

it was just too good
a chance to miss.

That's why I'm here,
I want to make it up to you.

Just like old times.

Morse?

Inspector...
Everything all right?

Lady Belborough's husband
has been arrested

for the murder
of Jeannie Hearne.

What?

Bruce... are you sure?

Thursday afternoon,

he played nine holes at North
Oxford Golf Club

with a Mr. Outis.

Morse turned up their scorecard

not far from
Jeannie Hearne's body.

And he's confirmed this, has he,
this Outis?

Well, we haven't been able
to find him yet,

but we found Bruce's car on
the estate earlier this evening.

There's no doubt it was
the vehicle used

to run down Jeannie Hearne.

Oh, my God.
Oh, darling, it's all right.

You're with me now.

Oh, Bix...

I went through Roddy's effects.

Thought you might want this.

Of course, it wasn't
Roddy Farthingale's pocket

we found it in

any more than it was Roddy
I dragged from the lake.

Not Roddy?

Then who was it?

I'm sorry, Kay.

It was Joss Bixby.

The real Bixby.

What's going on?

James Green and Co....

Isn't that where you picked up
some of your props, Mr. Newton?

What of it?

It's a rather lackluster name

for a magician, don't you think?

It's not a patch
on Janus Greel and Conrad,

the original name of your act.

It could just as easily have
been Janus Greel and Sons.

Charlie and Conrad Greel.

Two boys, born within
an hour of each other,

identical in every way.

Except for one.

But as soon as Conrad removed
his spectacles,

no one could tell them apart.

Certainly not the audience.

The illusion depended

on everyone believing
there was only one boy,

an illusion that you maintained
amongst the other show folk.

"A magician keeps his secrets,
even unto the grave."

Isn't that what you told us?

So?

So one boy had to be kept
hidden from the world.

He existed only for those
few moments on stage.

The rest of the time,
he lived in shadow.

What that might do to a young
soul I don't like to think.

Then Kay...

Kathy... joined the act.

You fell for Charlie

and Charlie fell for you too.

But Conrad wanted you also.

"You're my heart, Charlie Greel,

but every time I look at you..."

What?

I saw Conrad.

And that was too much to bear.

He took advantage of you?

I thought he was Charlie.

We ran away that night.

I tried.

I really tried,
but in the end...

You couldn't forget
what his brother had done.

We lost one another.

But Charlie never forgot you.

One fine morning,
somehow, somewhere,

he discovered that you were
to marry Bruce Belborough.

Bruce was rich,
titled, successful.

If that's what it took
to win you,

then that's what
Charlie would become.

All he needed was a patron.

So Bixby was born.

A man with no past...

The perfectlegitimate front
for Harry Rose.

Really, Kathy,
that's not what happened.

You still insist you're Charlie?

Of course he is!

It's Charlie, it's you.

You tell them.

Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Newton, I
know you want to believe it.

You think I don't know
my own son?

I think after Charlie
and Kay ran away,

you pulled off one
final disappearing act.

To maintain the secrecy
of the original act,

Janus Greel
became the Great Zambezi.

And Conrad became...

Swopes and every other audience
plant the act could ever need.

Now, what am I, some sort of man
of a thousand faces?

You were here when
Jeannie Hearn got on the stage

and you were there at the wheel
of Bruce's car

when Jeannie came to,

afraid and wondering
how the hell she got there

from the ghost train.

It was polyurethane found under
Jeannie Hearne's fingernails,

part of your disguise that
she'd scratched from your face

while she fought for her life.

You knew the scorecard

would lead us to Lord
Belborough,

that we'd find out about his
affair with Jeannie Hearne

and that it was his car
used to kill her.

Help!

Having framed Bruce,

the only thing that stood
in your way was Joss Bixby.

While Bixby drew breath,
you would be forever Swopes.

So you decided to take back the
life you'd always been denied.

A man who wasn't there
slew a man who didn't exist

and became someone.

Swopes takes a powder.

You take Bixby's place.

You get the money, the girl,

the whole shebang.

It's a hell of a trick.

An impossible murder...
No victim, no killer.

It's the perfect crime.

Not quite. Mr. Outis.

If you're going
to choose an alias,

don't pick the same pseudonym

Odysseus used to fight
Polyphemus.

Not in a town filled
with classicists.

You killed Charlie.

It was the only way.

I just wanted you both
to look at me

the way you looked at him.

We could have lived the rest
of our lives together,

and you'd never have known.

It would have been a lie.

And you and Bruce is what?

At least with me,
you'd have been loved.

We were meant to be
together, Kathy.

I love you.

What put you onto it?
Something he said?

Actually, sir,
it was something he didn't say.

Bixby affected the habit of
calling everyone "old man."

But when I saw him again
at the house, he didn't say it.

Not once.

And Roddy Farthingale?

I think Conrad intended just
to take his brother's place,

to bury him somewhere
on the estate,

and none of us would
be any the wiser.

Only Morse arrived before
Conrad had the chance

to drag Charlie
out of the water.

Someone else had to die.

If Conrad was Bixby,

another body had to be
recovered from the lake?

There you go.

Why Conrad's name

if it was Charlie
who performed the tricks?

It looked better
on the playbill.

I tried it both ways.

Janus Greel and Conrad brought
more people to the tent.

It had class.

How could you do it?

Your own son?

All art... demands sacrifice.

But how do you decide?

How does a father choose

which son gets a life, and
which is condemned to darkness?

Just like that.

Morris, bring the car around.

So, you're leaving.

Safari.

Kenya.

Guy Mortmain has a place
out there.

Bruce thought a change of scene
might be good for me.

Bixby's funeral.

You can just walk away?

He wasn't the only one
who changed.

Bixby didn't belong in their
world any more than I do.

Did.

I wanted to tell him that
the last night I saw him.

That he was better than that.

THURSDAY Nobody gets to choose.

The further a man runs away
from his nature,

the sooner it'll find him out.

So what does that make me?

A good detective.

And a poor policeman.

That too.

If only I'd have told him.

Wouldn't have made the
blindest bit of difference.

He was set on the girl.

His memory of her at least.

Zambezi was right.

There's no real magic
in this world.

Only love.

The rest is just smoke
and mirrors.

Back to work, then.

Back to work.