All language subtitles for Endeavour.S05E02.BluRay.1080p.DD5.1.H265-d3g

What can you see?

Oh, sorry.
It's fine.

Sorry.
Sorry.

Thrice woe be unto him

who disturbs the sleep
of Akhenaten.

Mr. Beavis.

Mr. Beavis!

But I have incontrovertible
proof

that someone in this room
is a murderer.

And that person is...

It's ridiculous.

Excuse me, sorry.

Early for the intermission?

Break in the reel, sir.

They're fixing it now.

The Pharaoh's Curse?

Maybe there is something
to the legend after all.

Pop.

Giulia.

Go see to table four.

I'll make it up next week.

I'll be back for the rest.

Mr. Nero won't be happy.

Giulia?

It wouldn't hurt you
to show some respect.

Good men died
so you could cock a snook?

Granddad, you don't have
to tell me who died.

Christ, do you think it matters
to them who stands or don't

for the national anthem?

I'll wind the reel.

Good night, sir.

Good night, madam.

Good night, madam.

Good night, madam.

Good night, sir.

Just a few questions,
Mrs. Lupin,

so we got everything
straight.

You found the deceased
at what time?

We meet again,
Nayland Smith.

Suspicious?

Nothing obvious.

Died sometime between
1:00 and 3:00 in the night.

Know more once I've got
his tripes in a tub.

That would accord
with the landlady's statement.

She says he got back
about midnight.

Ronald Beavis.

Worked at the
Pitt Rivers Museum.

Doing what?

She doesn't know.

She said he was banging about
quite a bit, making a racket,

then he went quiet.

Found him when she brought him
his morning cuppa.

Would that be
his usual time?

Midnight?

It varied,
apparently.

Mostly worked
nights.

Any next of kin?

Not as far as she knows.

You couldn't have a turn

through his pockets,
could you?

He won't bite.

No.

No.

Nothing, I'm afraid.

Apparently, his was name
was Ronald Beavis.

Yes.

That much we know.

I need you to get
to the Pitt Rivers,

find out what he did there.

Phone call, isn't it?

If you're willing to settle
for the bare minimum, yes.

Speak to his colleagues.

See what they made of him.

Was he liked, disliked?

Did he owe any money?

Vice versa.

Any rows?

I can write a list for you,
if it'd help.

It's just a sudden death.

There's no signs of violence.

No visible signs of violence.

"There are more things
in heaven and earth, Horatio."

There isn't anything else...

Shall we say 3:00?

Mm-hmm.

Who's Horatio?

It pays to be thorough--
come on, Pitt Rivers.

Sure.

He's all right, you know.

He's too full of himself
by half.

Don't tell me
you're warming to him.

I suppose he's a certain eager
puppyish charm.

If one goes in

for that sort of thing.

Thank you.

Where's Morse?

Sudden death in Jericho.

This started around midnight,
according to the fire boys.

Seat of the fire
was the front hall.

Petrol through the letterbox.

It's a miracle
nobody was killed.

How many living there?

Six families.

Kenyan Asians.

The latest only moved in
last week.

Nothing like a warm welcome.

Morning, sir.

Let's see.

What number was it again?

4429.

Well, we're only at
4482 now.

He must've come in
for the last showing.

Well, was there many in?

Oh, packed.

Late night?
Double-feature?

X certificate?

Horror.

Last night, it was
The Pharaoh's Curse

and The Phantom Strangler.

All, all right,
Miss Copperstone?

This gentleman is from
the police.

Detective Sergeant Morse.

Armand De Vere,
manager of the Roxy.

All's well, I hope.

Just a routine inquiry--
nothing to be alarmed about.

I may just take a look around,
unless you've any objections.

Oh, by all means.

Hyde Park, the second

of many heated
protest meetings,

and the target this time

is the government's proposed
immigration bill.

More than 3,000 immigrants

were there to demonstrate
their antagonism.

Chanting their hostility,

the marchers set off
for Number Ten Downing Street

to deliver a memorandum,
to the prime minister.

The landlord
at Khartoum Street's

Eddie Nero, sir.

Only I can't see him
burning down his own.

It brings in too much rent.

Who then?
The locals?

What little bit of bugger-all
they have got

they're frightened of losing
to foreigners.

These people are
British subjects.

Passport holders.

We have a responsibility.

I'm afraid we'll only see
more of it, sir.

People whipping up
ill feeling.

These "Make Britain Greater"
types?

They put a leaflet through
my door only the other day.

"Would you let your daughter
marry a darkie?"

Two-bob Blackshirts.

I thought we'd seen
the last of them.

Their sort's always around.

They find a rock to hide under
till conditions are right

and then out they come.

"The river Tiber
foaming with much blood."

Wasn't that it?

The Tiber's not the Isis.

Hatred is hatred.

Once that catches hold, there's
no saying where it might lead.

What's this?

Emil Valdemar.

Oh, before your time,
I expect.

One of the big three, he was.

Karloff and Lugosi

at Universal,

and Valdemar up the road
at Mammoth.

And he's coming here,
to the Roxy?

Tomorrow night.

He's over here shooting a sequel
to The Pharaoh's Curse.

He's gonna show some clips

and take questions
from the audience.

Tickets are going
like hotcakes.

Gotta get one now,
if you like horror.

I don't.

Hm.

Particularly.

Well,
good luck with it.

The late, lamented
Detective Sergeant Beavis.

Should have the bloodwork
back tomorrow,

but heart, most likely.

Though it was probably
a photo finish with his liver.

"Liked a drink."

Isn't that the phrase?

Sounds so much nicer
than "chronic alcoholic."

I don't suppose
whether you could say

he'd had a late fried breakfast.

Well, his last meal--

if you could call it that--

was less haute cuisine

and more chimps' tea party.

Some kind of cereal matter,

orange squash,

and vanilla ice cream.

Popcorn.

The... cereal matter.

He'd been to the Roxy
on Pym Street.

Some sort of horror season.

Do you go in for that?

Cruelty, torture,
and Kensington Gore?

For some of us, it's
horror season all-year-round.

Hm.

Mr. Valdemar, sir?

They're ready for you on set.

Double eggs, chips, and beans,
for table six.

Good afternoon.

I'm Detective Sergeant Morse,
Thames Valley.

I'm trying to trace
the movements

of a man who died
suddenly at home.

I wonder if you could tell me
if he'd been in here.

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

No.

Miss?

It seems he ordered
a number two breakfast,

but didn't eat it.

What my dad said.

I'm just trying to find out
what time he might have been in.

Well, if you do remember
anything, you can reach me here.

Thanks for the help.

And are you both in full-time
employment at the moment?

Hello.
Hello.

What's your name?

Eisha.

Anything from
the Pitt Rivers?

He was a night watchman,

and sometimes he helped out
moving the exhibits.

But they were a bit put out.

He was meant to be
on duty last night.

- What's this?
- That sudden in Jericho.

Ronald Beavis--
he worked there.

For about three years.

Everyone seemed
to have liked him.

Very good, Constable,
very thorough.

Wouldn't you say, Morse?

Yes, very.

How'd it go with the fire?

It was arson,
no doubt about it.

House was filled
with Kenyan Asians.

One of Eddie Nero's fire traps.

He was ex-job, Beavis.

Detective sergeant with County
out of Banbury.

Retired in '59.

No next of kin on record.

Don't ring a bell.

Nothing suspicious, then?

No, not according to Dr. DeBryn.

But he had a bill
for a number two breakfast

in his wallet,
from Brown's Caf.

I asked if he'd been in
and they were...

Well, they were a bit cagey.

If someone keeled over
after being in my caf,

I might be, too.

I don't care what you think
you know or don't know.

Threaten me, and you'll
bloody well regret it.

All right, Betty?

Yes, Mr. De Vere.

Oh, you're short
on vanilla tubs.

Better restock before
the intermission.

Help yourself.

Thank you.

It's Morse.

I'm going off shift as of 19:31.

Yup-- thank you.

Is everything all right?

Does it look like it?

Sorry.

I was supposed to be
meeting someone.

Ah.

Where's a good place
to get a drink round here?

Um...

Come with me.

I just finished work.

Morning.

Morning.

Bye.

Tea's in the pot.

I think I'll have coffee.

Suit yourself.

Who's your friend?

It's just some girl.

I thought you were
off the birds.

Strange.

Right, look sharp.

We've an arson
on the Watt Court estate.

Aspirin's in the cabinet.

I'll get the car round.

Petrol through the letterbox.

Same as the multi-occupancy
on Khartoum Street.

Hang on.

Hello, stranger.

Jim!

Long time, no see.

Oh.

You know how it is.

Miss Thursday.

Morse.

What's this, then, Joanie?

Um, I've been working here.

Part-time.
Doing what?

Admin, mostly.

Been any trouble?

Someone threw a brick
at the window yesterday.

Some yob.

There was an Asian family in

asking for advice.

Morse.

Word through from Dr. DeBryn
on Beavis.

Says you and the DCI should
drop by at your earliest.

I'll go and get him.

Well, WPC Trewlove will take
your statement

when you're ready.

Good morning.

I'm Detective Sergeant Morse.

Oh, are you here for Fred?

Well.

Who's this, then?

Morse, he's called.

I'm Charlie,
Fred's brother.

I see you met my good lady wife,
Paulette.

Oh, yes, indeed.

Well, pull up a seat, son.

Take the weight off.

I expect you saw my car,
did you?

Outside?

Wonder, it was.

We're up for the week,
little break, see the sights.

It's our first time in Oxford.

Ah.

Anyone want more tea?

Oh, our daughter.

Carol.

This is Fred's boy from work--
Morse, is it?

Yes, uh...

Yes, pleased to meet you.

Maybe you could find time
to show her round the place.

Dad!
Me and Paulette are

taking Fred and Win out tonight
for a slap-up meal.

She won't wanna be
dragging about

with us old 'uns,
will you?

Morse.

Ooh, aye-aye!

Look sharp!
Officer on deck.

Morning, sir.

Sir, eh? Sir?

Get you, Fred--
well, how about that, then?

Arise, Sir Fred!

Station said something
about another fire.

Yes, sir,
at the Public Advice Center

on Watt Court estate.

I've left Strange and Fancy
to deal.

Dr. DeBryn would like to talk
to us about that sudden.

Public Advice Center?

Isn't that where Joan's working?

Yes.

I've seen her-- she's fine.

I was just asking
your lad here

if he could find time to show
our Carol around the town.

I shouldn't think
he'll have time for that,

not with his duties.

Well, you're not at it
24 hours a day, surely, eh?

I wouldn't expect you to pay
for it out of your own pocket.

Oh, no, no, no, no,
that wouldn't be necessary.

Don't embarrass the man,
Charlie.

Well, you could meet her
in town somewhere.

Take her for a drink.

Say what? Around 7:00?

You'd be doing me a favor.

He doesn't want to.

No.

Um...

What about The Sheldonian?

Right.

Well, go and put
some clothes on.

Walking around
in barely a stitch,

showing everybody
what you got.

Dad, it's so embarrassing.

I'll see you later--
Morse.

To the Batmobile, eh?

I have the toxicology report
on Mr. Beavis's blood.

Nux vomica.

Ingested an hour or two

before his decease.
Strychnine.

That would explain why
he didn't eat the supper

he ordered at the greasy spoon.

So how'd he come by it?

Not at the caf, surely.

His shirt had
one or two spots on it.

Once the lab identified poison,

I took a swab and tested it.

Came out positive.

The poison was in...

orange squash.

Uh, I'm afraid Mr. De Vere
isn't on duty yet.

But I can get

the assistant manager,
Mr. Bullings, for you.

If you would.

One for the teenagers?

Emil Valdemar?
Must be 80 if he's a day.

He's doing
some sort of talk here.

Proper old picture house.

Don't get many like this
anymore.

We used to go down
to the Mile End Rivoli

every Saturday morning.

The thruppenny rush.

I'd go in first and
spring the window in the gents

for Chas and Billy.

You ever go?

Where?
Saturday morning pictures?

My mother took me once.

All that screaming in the dark.

Was like something out of Dante.

Well, I couldn't hear the film.

Well, you don't know
what you're missing.

Couple of Maroon Cartoons.

The serials.

A Western, if you're lucky--
Tom Mix.

Mind you, my favorite
was always Laurel and Hardy.

"B-I-it me-- bit me."

It's gone now--
a buzz bomb got it.

Look, about Carol.

Don't feel you have to
show her round on my account.

Oh...

Ah, back again.

Molly said something
about the police.

DCI Thursday,

DS Morse,
Thames Valley.

We're looking
into the death

of one of your patrons.

Just need to ask
a few questions.

Of course,
anything I can do to help.

These cartons of orange squash--

the Whakahari--
they're sold here and where?

With the usherettes?

That's right.

They load up their trays
from here or the general stores.

Right, so who was on the counter
the night before last?

That would be me.

Do you remember serving
this customer?

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

No, I'm afraid not.

An usherette,
perhaps?

There was only one on.

Betty.

Betty Persky.

Sorry,
I don't remember him.

That's all right,
Miss Persky.

The number of people
who come through here,

it'd be a miracle if you
remembered every customer.

You worked here long?

A year, just coming up.

Nice place?

Yeah, it's all right.

Though I don't know long
it'll last.

How's that?

Well, there's talk of it
being pulled down.

For flats, I think,
or a car park.

Where'd you hear that?

Shh!

Off Mr. De Vere.

I was cleaning up
behind the refreshments,

when I heard him
talking to Mr. Kegworth,

the projectionist.

I mean, I say talking--
it was more like having words.

The Taj Mahal!

I've a friend
up at head office.

He says there's been talk
about closing the Roxy.

Some developer looking to buy
the place.

And what did Mr. De Vere say?

That I shouldn't believe
all that I hear.

The sons want to let it go,

but Mr. Jephson, Sr.,

wants to hold onto it.

Be a blow for you,
I expect, if it went.

They'll all go in the end--

with the television.

I've been here since it opened
40 years near on.

I've been training my grandson
Ken up to take over,

but he seems more drawn to the,
uh, the management side.

When the Roxy goes,
I'll go with it.

And that'll be that.

Excuse me.

Mr. Garnier?

You've any requests,

they'll have to wait
for the next session.

Police, sir.

Detective Chief Inspector
Thursday,

Detective Sergeant Morse,
Thames Valley.

My playing wasn't that bad,
surely?

Sounded very fine, sir.

No, we're pursuing inquiries
into a patron of the cinema.

I wondered if you'd take a look
at this photograph.

You've seen him?

Night before last.

Between the intermission
and "The Queen,"

I've usually a couple of hours
on my hands.

I'll have a smoke.

Maybe take a look

at the paper.

Normally, nobody's in here
when the picture's showing.

Only this time, there he was.

Your man Beavis.

What was he doing?

Just standing there.

Waiting, I'd've said.

I asked him his business,

and he said he was looking
for the gents.

So I told him where it was,
and he went on his way.

And that was it, was it?

No.

Normally, I'd've forgotten
all about it,

if that's all it was.

But sometimes
when it's a clear night,

I'll go up onto the roof.

Oxford by moonlight.

Just you and the stars.

I heard someone talking,

so I wandered over to the edge,

and he was on
the fire escape landing,

talking to someone
by the circle fire exit.

And you couldn't see
who it was he was talking to?

No, they never came out.

Then the door shut
and he went on his way.

I stubbed my smoke
and went back down.

Hard to see how someone
could have got the poison inside

if it was sealed.

Nobody's gonna drink
from a carton

that's already been opened.

All depends whether Beavis
was the intended victim

or if we've got a madman
on our hands.

He could have been poisoned
at random, you think.

Just a face in the crowd.

The organist
was under the impression

he was meeting someone
at the Roxy, sir.

Maybe another patron
or a member of staff.

Which would suggest
that it was meant.

He was a retired
detective sergeant.

One of his old cases, you think?

Someone with a grudge?

Nine years retired, sir.

Late in the day for revenge.

That's one thing
it's never too late for.

Start going
through his old cases.

See if he's ever nicked anyone
who works at the cinema.

Well, unless he bought

his orange squash
somewhere else.

That's unlikely,

I'd've thought.

But not impossible.

Trace all the routes he could've
taken between the two,

show his picture at any pub

you find along the way.

What do we know
about this cinema?

Not much, sir.

Owned by the Jepson family.

There was talk of it
being sold for redevelopment,

but I can't see Beavis
might figure in that.

Right, well, keep me informed.

Oh, anything more
on these arson cases?

Well, a matter of fact, sir,
I've just heard back

on the owner
of the advice center.

Another one of Eddie Nero's.

The proverbial bad penny.

Nobody thought to burn down
his wretched gym, I suppose.

Well, carry on.

You know, you shouldn't be
too hard on the boy.

It's encouragement
he wants.

A bit of praise goes a long way.

Checking local boozers?

That's not policework,
that's a pub crawl.

He comes back with anything more
than a skinful, I'll eat my hat.

All right,
maybe it's a 20-to-one shot,

but I gave you a long lead
often enough.

Some of the hare-brained schemes
you come up with.

But I knew what I was doing.

Not always.

But often enough
to make a difference.

Give him a chance.

He might surprise you.

As I told your colleague,
he worked as a night-watchman.

Lately he'd been filling in
for an attendant who's off sick.

Did he ever mention
the Roxy Cinema to you?

A member of staff
that he knew, maybe?

Not to me.

But I did not know him
particularly well.

I am on loan
from the Cairo Museum,

together with some of
the visiting exhibits.

So you mind all the bits
and pieces,

don't you?

If by that you mean,
do I make sure no harm befalls

the priceless artifacts
of my people's ancient history,

then, yes, I mind
the bits and pieces.

No slight was intended, doctor.

With the British it never is.

And yet, as I say,
I hardly knew him.

There is nothing more
I can tell you.

If you will excuse me,
I have much to do.

He doesn't seem to have been
close to anyone at work,

but having met his supervisor,
a Dr. Shoukry,

I can't say as I blame him.

Not what you'd call
a sunny personality, sir.

And none too keen
on the British

by the sound of things.

Yeah, well,
we've all met that type.

Chip on their shoulder
a mile wide.

Remember who it was
built the bloody Suez Canal.

It was the French.

Was it?

Any event, working nights,

he mostly brought in
his own snap.

So that still leaves only
the cinema or the caf

where he might have come by

this poisoned squash.

Or a public house, of course.

Oh, yes.

Any luck with that, Constable?

No.

Nobody's-- nobody's seen him.

No, well...
Morse thought it unlikely.

Cold water's good for hiccups.

One or two other matters

to go over, sir,
if you've a moment.

Yes, yes, of course.

Don't ever come in here
half-cut again.

Do you understand?

This isn't a game!

All done?

For now.

Got a nice bit of haddock
for tonight.

Thought I might do it
with a poached egg.

Bit of pepper.

Bread and scrape.

What?

Well, I can't.

I've got a date.

I wondered if I had
the right place.

Everyone said this was it.

I was held up,
at work.

I wasn't complaining.

A civil servant?

Well, you tell some people
you're a police officer

and they run a mile.

You weren't exactly
forthcoming yourself.

I remember there wasn't
much talking at all.

And if I've put you
on the spot,

they think I stayed
at cousin Joan's.

What does she think?

She didn't think anything.

That's who I was supposed
to be seeing.

Only she was busy.

Fate.

The thing about mistakes
is not to repeat them.

Is that what it was?

A mistake?

It's not like anyone
got hurt, is it?

What would you like to see
first?

It's up to you.

Well, this is good a place
to start as any.

The Sheldonian Theatre.

Built after the Restoration
by Christopher Wren.

Named for the chancellor
of the university at the time,

Gilbert Sheldon.

Shall we?

Well, this is very nice,

I must say.

The best in town, Win.

I made sure of that.

Order anything you like.

Tonight's on me.

No need to push the boat out,
Charlie, not on our account.

Let me worry about that.

Ooh, it's a big menu.

Course it's a big menu.

It's not
Sammy's Pie & Mash shop, is it?

Come on.

Let's have some service here,
John.

My mouth's as dry
as Geronimo's sock.

And through here

is the Radcliffe Camera.

Ah.

And this is Hertford Bridge.

Most people call it
the Bridge of Sighs,

after its namesake
in Venice,

but more closely it resembles
the Rialto Bridge.

It's lovely.
Mm.

The Ashmolean.

What? What is it?

Look, I can just get the bus
back if you tell me which one.

And I won't say anything
to Uncle Fred,

if that's what
you're worried over.

No, no, no, it's not that.

I'm sorry.

What would you like to do?

Mr. Xarkoff--
Armand De Vere, the manager.

May I welcome you,

on behalf of Jephson Cinemas,
to the Roxy?

Happy to be here.

May I present
Miss Veronique Carlton,

our leading lady?

Charmed.

Wonderful to meet you,
Miss Carlton.

Is Emil here yet?

He arrived about
half an hour ago.

But he was feeling
a little tired,

so I've let him use my flat.

"Apartment."

And Jason?

Running a little late.

Shall we?

Well, someone looks as though
they've lost a shilling

and found a sixpence.

Don't you start.

Why? What's up?

I'm in the doghouse, aren't I?

Are you sure we're allowed
in here?

I'm a policeman.

I'm allowed anywhere.

Another drink for Mr. Nero,
please, Betty.

Oh, my God.

It's Jason Curwen.

Who?

The blind violinist

in Two Weeks in August.

With Diana Day!

What would you like to drink?

Oh, I don't mind.

You choose.

Yes, sir, what
can I get for you?

Could I have a champagne
and a scotch?

Thank you.

Not over there, okay?

That's all very well,
professor, but you realize

every last member
of the original expedition

died in highly unusual
circumstances?

All except... yourself.

As may be, Steven,

but what you're suggesting

breaks all the natural laws
of science known to man.

A creature restored to life

after three-and-a-half
thousand years?

And hell-bent on revenge?

Impossible!

Excuse me.

...we can't do that!

No ifs, no buts-- exactly.

But Mr. Nero, please!

No-- go on.

I love you.

Victoria!

Steven!

Come to me!

Ladies and gentlemen.

A sneak preview
of some marvelous clips

of Zoltan Xarkoff's
latest production,

The Pharaoh Rises!

I must protest!

This fantasy
is grossly disrespectful

to the culture
of the Egyptian people!

Please sit down, sir.

Bad enough our treasures
have for centuries

been plundered by Europeans,
but this latest affront...

With the greatest respect, sir,
it's an entertainment.

To you, perhaps,
not for us.

Not for us.

Come along now, sir.
I warn you.

All of you!

If you persist
with this sacrilege,

you will answer for it!

Apologies, ladies and gentlemen.

Well, what can one say about
the man we are to honor tonight?

Decorated war hero.

Star of the early silent films

alongside Pickford, Chaplin,
and Fairbanks.

And then, the work

for which he is justly famous:

a classic series of horror films

at Mammoth Pictures
Studios.

Ladies and gentlemen,
it is a great honor to introduce

Emil Valdemar, MC.

You're very kind.

Thank you.

Well, that was lovely.

Drop more splosh, Win?

Not too much, Charlie.

You'll have me tiddly.

Dad...

Where's the, uh...

Just on the right
were we came in.

I'll keep you company.

I'm bursting.

Good to see you, Fred.

You too, Charlie.

You're looking well.

How's business your end?

Well, you know,
funny you should ask, Fred.

I'd like your advice

on a little thing
that's come up.

But, not here, eh.

We'll talk about it amongst
ourselves--

without the girls.

Course.

Nothing serious, though,
is it?

No, no, no.

Never better.

Thursday.

Friend of yours, Fred?

Evening, sir.

I had no idea you were
an habitu of Chez Andre.

Please sit down.

Oh, I'm not, uh, usually, sir.

My middle brother,
Charlie.

Chief Superintendent Bright.

Bit of a mouthful.

What do they call you at home?

Reginald.

Pull up a chair.
Join us for a nightcap.

No, no, really,
I-I wouldn't wish to intrude

on a family occasion.

The more the merrier.
I insist.

Well, that's
very kind of you, thank you.

Another chair for our guest.

What can I get you, Reg?

Reginald.

I'll have a brandy, I think,
if I may.

Talking about
all those old movies

makes me wonder
if I really did all that.

Well, you did-- and more.

And now, of course,
The Pharaoh Rises!

in which you play
not only the eponymous hero,

but also his nemesis.

Yes, two Valdemars
for the price of one.

I should complain to my agent.

Lately you've been involved

in a hugely successful run

at International
British Pictures.

Your Montressor
in The Cask of Amontillado

being a particular pleasure.

You are very kind.

It would be fair to say,
though, would it not,

that it's the part
of Akhenaten

that made your name?

Yes, you could say that, yes.

The original production--
unusually for the time--

was filmed in Egypt.

It was.

Well, our producer, Meriam,

was such a stickler
for authenticity.

She...

Wh-what?

This a regular haunt for you,
then, Reginald?

Yes.

Sometimes, when Mrs. Bright
is out for the evening.

Well, where's she off
to tonight, then?

Down the Bingo?

No.

I believe it's the
Unmarried Mothers.

Mrs. Bright does a lot
of good works.

What line of work are you in,
Charles?

I've a warehouse.

Shadwell Basin.

Thursday & Co.

Funny how the world turns--
our old man used to

bare knuckle it for a shift
at the same gaff

that's now got my name
over the door.

I'm sure Mr. Bright doesn't want
to hear about that, Charlie.

Sorry, sir.

Not at all.

It's... fascinating.

And I think we can dispense with

formalities this evening,
Thursday.

Yes, sir.

Mr... Reginald.

Bright, sir.

Sergeant?
Strange?
Good heavens.

Sorry to interrupt
your evening, sir,

but there's been
an incident at the Roxy.

What on earth is going on?

It's the organist, sir,
Leslie Garnier.

I've the audience
out of the auditorium

and into the bars
and corridors.

What about the staff?

They're helping guard the exits.

Eddie Nero's here.

He's in the manager's flat

with the rest
of the VIPs.

Right, uniform taking down
particulars?

Yes, sir.

You have any idea how long
we'll be here?

We're on set at 7:00

and Emil's in make-up
at 5:00.

I'm afraid not, Mr. Xarkoff.

But perhaps in the meantime,
I could freshen your glasses?

Well, I was hoping to present
this after the interview,

on behalf of Jephson Cinemas,
Mr. Valdemar,

a small token of our
appreciation and admiration.

Oh, how very kind.

What is the meaning of this?

Kenneth?
What happened to the watch?

I've-I've no idea, sir,
I put it in there myself.

I'm so frightfully sorry,
Mr. Valdemar,

there's clearly been a mix-up.

Take it away, Kenneth,
take it away.

Could it have been
natural causes?

Well, it could,

but we've one death connected
to the cinema already.

I thought it best
not to take any chances.

But you've no reason to suspect
anything untoward?

Garnier said he saw
Beavis talking to somebody

on the fire escape.

Maybe that same someone
saw Garnier talking to us.

Or maybe Garnier
went to them.

Blackmail.

I saw him take a drink
from the bar at 8:00.

And he collapsed

at half past 9:00.
If it was strychnine

in the martini, he'd've felt
the effects much later.

What if it was something
faster acting?

Or he was poisoned earlier?

Either are possible,
of course,

but I'm afraid I won't be able
to give you a definitive answer

until I've got
the results of his blood.

But you can't imagine
any of the guests

had anything to do
with Leslie's death?

They never met him
till today.

It's unlikely, sir, I grant you,
but they may have

seen or heard something that
has a bearing on our inquiries.

Oh, he's had some sort of
heart attack, hasn't he?

Or a seizure or something.

We won't know the cause
of Mr. Garnier's death

until after the post-mortem
is concluded.

But it is the second
sudden death

connected to the Roxy
in the last three days.

What's your business
with Eddie Nero?

You were seen in private
conversation with him.

He's a guest
of Mr. Jephson Jr.,

the son of the owner.

He generously offered
to take everyone out to dinner

at his club.

Ladies and gentlemen,
if I might have your attention,

these gentlemen
are from the police.

Detective Chief Inspector
Thursday.

Detective Sergeant Morse.

Thames Valley.

We'll try not to detain you
any longer than necessary,

but we will need
to ask questions

of all of you in turn.

All right, Carol?

Think you'd better
cut along home.

Morse'll get a constable

to drive you back.
Morse?

Mr. Jephson,

if I may start with you.

I don't know
what it was in the box,

but the poor old man looked like
he'd had an awful shock.

Here, let me.

Well, thanks
for a memorable evening.

I don't suppose
I'll be seeing you again

before we go back.

Well, I don't see how I
can compete with Jason Curwen.

It wasn't a mistake.

Not everything has to be
more than it is.

Constable Davies
will see you home.

Davies,
this is DCI Thursday's niece.

If you could.
Hiyah.

Doesn't matter what stone
I turn over, does it?

I'm a great patron of the arts.

Ask anyone that knows me.

You wouldn't get out of bed
unless there was a dollar in it.

What's your business
with De Vere?

Nothing.

I met him through the owner.

Mr. Jephson and I
are in business together.

Have you ever have any dealings
with Leslie Garnier?

The organist?

I'm more of an Errol Garner man
myself.

What about Ronald Beavis?

The only Ronald Beavis
I know

is Ronnie Beavis.

One of yours
out of Banbury.

Tried to fit me up
on a B&E charge once.

Haven't seen him in donkeys.
Why?

Is that it, then?

I can go?

For the minute.

You never asked about the arson.

Khartoum Street,
now this Public Advice Center.

That makes two of yours
in as many days.

Be these racialists,
I'd've thought, wouldn't you?

Nice little earner.

Shoveling them up
from the airport.

Bustling 'em off
to Christ knows where?

How many more dosses
you got like that round town?

If they weren't renting off me,

it'd all be on the council,

wouldn't it?

Should be some sort of
civic award for people like me.

Don't hold your breath.

Second thoughts.

Go on,
you're done for now.

So you hadn't met
Mr. Garnier?

No.

There really isn't much
I can tell you.

I was up here until the manager
came to collect me

a few minutes
before I was due on.

Did anyone bring you
a martini from the bar?

No.

The manager, Mr. De Vere,

did offer to bring me
a little tincture,

but it must have
slipped his mind.

I understand you had
something of a shock earlier.

A gift from the management.

They wanted to give me a watch,

which had gone astray.

But on top of this

awful thing
with that man dying,

I really didn't think
it was the right time or place.

You know him well,
the organist?
Leslie?

Oh, yes, sir.

Best part of ten years,
I should think.

I came across
from the Stoll-Moss circuit

and Leslie
was already installed.

Very nice gentleman.
Variety?

Oh, yes, sir.
I've opened the doors

for all the greats.

Probably why Leslie and I
got on so well.

We'll need a next of kin.

He was a single man, sir.

Much like myself.

I'll miss my pal.

He always had a friendly word.

And he was a master
of the Compton.

The organ, sir.

I used to play
a bit myself, sir.

The piano, in my younger days,
of course.

Before...

King and country, sir.

So we had that in common too,
the music.

What happened to the man who
caused the disturbance earlier?

I threw him out
on his ear, sir.

On the street where he belongs.

I know Arabs, sir.

You can't trust a one of 'em.

All right,
you go about your business,

a constable will take over
from here.

He was popular with the rest
of the staff, Miss Persky?

I think he'd had a falling out
with Mr. De Vere.

I couldn't say what over,
but I just heard Mr. De Vere

say, "Don't you threaten me,"
or something like that.

When was this?

Last night
during the first feature.

Did you make Mr. Garnier
a martini?

Oh, no, sir.

Usually, he'd have one
waiting for him on the organ

to sip at.

Part of his act, you know,

he'd raise his glass
to the audience,

but we were under strict orders
from Mr. De Vere

to keep him straight.

He threatened you.

With what?

He said he wanted to quit,

not for the first time,
and I called his bluff.

Leslie had a weakness
for the booze.

The whole national anthem thing
was so he could get out of here

and get into the pub.

You liked him?

Yes.

Apart from the drink.

I felt a bit sorry for him,
truth be told.

He'd played all over the world,
you know.

On the liners after the war.

Expect coming to the Roxy
was a bit of a comedown

after that sort of life.

You put a drink on the bar
earlier in the lounge.

Who was that for?

Mr. Valdemar.

Mr. De Vere asked me to.
But Mr. Garnier took it.

I wouldn't know, sir.

I set it on the bar,
turned round

to take another order,

and when I looked back
it'd gone.

I thought Mr. De Vere
must've collected it.

I believe there was something
of upset earlier

with Mr. Valdemar.

Something to do
with a present?

Oh, yeah.

Mr. De Vere bought him a watch
as a thank you from the cinema.

He showed it to us
when he fetched it back.

He asked me to find
a nice box for it.

I got hold of one,
put the watch inside,

and left it in
Mr. De Vere's office.

So anyone could have had
access to it?

Sure.

And what was in the box
when he opened it?

Funny looking little thing.

See for yourself.

I'll need a list of everyone
in the audience

as soon as you can.

Yeah.

Well, I'll catch a lift
back off uniform, eh?

You go on.

All right, fine.
Been a long night.

I don't suppose Valdemar's
still here, is he?

Gone. Why?

That present
that he was given.

Hieroglyphics?

Someone playing a joke on him?
Don't know.

But if that glass
that Garnier took from the bar

does contain poison,
he wasn't the intended victim.

The drink was meant
for Valdemar.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Pissed the bed?

You know me, Fred.

Early riser.
Always have been.

Cup of tea?

One just brewed.

It's the business.

I need a loan.

Only short term.

Just so I can make
the payroll this month.

You'll get it back.

Every last penny.

With interest, I swear.

Can't you go to the bank?

I'm in it with them up to here.

And that's all it is?

No one's leaning on you?
The Twins?

No, no, nothing like that.

Well...

I've only ever had
a copper's wages.

Two kids.

Mortgage.

I've got the pension
to fall back on,

and we've got a bit put by,
but I'm no Rockefeller.

And I'd need
to talk to Win.

How much are we talking about?

This was stolen from us.

It's a funerary scarab.

New Kingdom.

Armana period.

Inscribed with
the Nomen cartouche

for the pharaoh Akhenaten,
formerly Amenhotep IV.

Akhenaten?

That's the same character played
by Emil Valdemar, isn't it?

He wasn't a character.

He was a ruler of Egypt.

Come with me, please.

It went missing from here.

Would Beavis have had keys
to this cabinet?

He'd certainly know
where to find a set.

Does it have some sort of
special meaning, this scarab?

Traditionally,
it is placed inside the body

in place of the heart.

It bears also lines
from the Book of the Dead.

An appeal to the heart
not to speak against the dead.

If the heart is found wanting
by the rulers of the afterworld,

the deceased are barred from
passing on to the afterlife.

Where did you come by it?

It was at the Roxy Cinema
last night.

I understand you caused

quite a stir there, Doctor.

So would you, Chief Inspector.

These films are a travesty.

A calumny upon Egypt
and all Egyptians.

Just a bit of fun, surely?

There is a time for fun.

My country is at war

with Israel.

A situation
you British created.

My own son

was shot down over Suez
last July.

These films, this nonsense,

makes mockery of the history
and culture

he died to defend.

Forgive me, Dr. Shoukry.

One father to another,
you have my condolences.

Are you absolutely sure
Dr. DeBryn?

Cyanide.

Not strychnine?

I found the remains
of a capsule of the same

stuffed inside the olive
in the martini.

As the alcohol
dissolved the casing

so the cyanide seeped out.

It was meant
for Valdemar, then.

Valdemar said he never met
Garnier, didn't he?

Yeah. Why?

Autograph book.

Oh yes.

That was in his jacket,
along with his wallet.

Final entry.

Emil Valdemar.

Well, Mr. Garnier certainly had
a collection

of the great and the good.

Looks like a lifetime's hobby.

Gracie Fields.

George Formby.

Laurel and Hardy.

Must've been their last tour,
sir.

1953.
I tried to get tickets.

Worth a lot of money,
I should think,

something like this
to a collector.

But the point is
Garnier must have seen Valdemar

in order to get his signature.

Why did Valdemar deny it?

Seems a trivial matter
to lie about.

So Beavis nicks this beetle
or whatever it is

from the Pitt-Rivers,
and tries to flog it to... who?

And how did it get to be
in Valdemar's gift?

The only prints on it are mine,

Valdemars, and Beavis's.

Valdemar had no connection
to Beavis, so far as we know?

Not that we've been able
to establish yet, sir.

Strange is also looking
at all the staff

to see if their paths
ever crossed with Beavis.

From his time at County,
you mean?

Yes, sir.

There may be more
among Garnier's belongings

might shed light.

Constable Fancy's collecting
evidence from his flat,

while Morse and me
brace Valdemar.

You think he might have been
intended victim?

If the glass that Garnier took
from the bar was poisoned,

almost certainly.

Roll camera!

Action!

Victoria!

Victoria!

Over here, Professor!

And cut!

Print!

Moving on.

It is my signature.

But you don't remember
signing it for Mr. Garnier?

When you've been signing
autographs for as long as I have

I could have signed dozens
yesterday evening.

You don't notice people's faces.

But Akhenaten's cartouche?

I would not commit that mark
to paper.

Why not, sir?

The Pharaoh's Curse
was well named.

Of all the people involved
in that production...

I am the last one left alive.

Why's that so unusual, sir?

You were a relatively young man
when the picture was made.

And, well...

Now I'm an old man?

Maybe so.

But within a year, two of
the cast members were dead.

The director died
in a plane crash.

It's been like that
ever since.

Every year one or two more.

It's Hollywood hyperbole,
surely.

Something to help sell the film.

Would that it were.

What made you think
there was something to it?

We shot exteriors on location,

but when we returned
to the studio,

we were using properties
loaned to us by Hearst--

genuine antiquities

he'd acquired some way
or another.

A delegation
from the Egyptian consulate

tried to picket the studio.

They said we were desecrating
their rites and sacred relics,

and no good would come of it.

And what happened?

The studio had the police
move them on.

They're a superstitious,
vengeful people.

I know.

I saw enough of them
during the Great War.

I was up the desert too, sir.

In the second go.

Then you know what I mean.

So that's why you reacted as you
did when you saw the scarab?

I used to think it was
a load of nonsense.

Now, I'm not so sure.

Emil, we're ready for you.

I'm afraid there's really
nothing more I can tell you.

I might've signed
that autograph,

but I would never-- never--
use the cartouche of Akhenaten.

It's a rum go, no mistake.

What do you make
of Dr. Shoukry?

Well, he has
a fair grievance I suppose.

Bad enough to see its nation
treasures plundered,

but to watch its culture
turned into a cheap thrills?

Enough to kill someone over,
though?

The cinema's
assistant manager,

Kenneth Bullings, sir.

30th January 1941.

He's form for theft.

Affray.
Most of it juvenile.

But we've an ABH in 1958
handled by County.

The investigating officer
was Ronald Beavis.

You've got something of a
checkered past, Mr. Bullings.

Affray, assault, occasioning
actual bodily harm.

Do you remember
who pinched you on that?

That was ten years ago.

No, I don't.

Then you'd be surprised,
to learn it was Ronald Beavis,

a patron of the Roxy.

He was at The Pharaoh's Curse
the other night

and found dead in his flat
the following morning.

Poisoned.

Just like Mr. Garnier.

I don't know anything
about that.

Is that the truth, Kenneth?

'Cause if you are
involved in some way,

you'll feel a so much better
if you get it off your chest,

I promise you that.

You didn't mean
to kill Garnier, did you?

Listen, I've come here to talk
to you of my own free will.

And now you're being
interviewed under caution.

So take thought.

You made that martini
for Valdemar.

I told you I did.

Just the way he likes it.

One part martini
to two part vodka.

Dash of bitters.
And an olive.

No.

A twist of lemon.

You sure about that?
Yeah.

He can't bear olives.

Famous for it.

Was in an interview I read
with him.

They remind him of Egypt.

Guess he had too many of 'em
when he was making

The Pharaoh's Curse.

Christ, you think I put
something in his drink?

I didn't, honest.

I'm not the same
as when I was a kid.

Ask anybody that knows me.

So if the martini
Garnier took from the bar

didn't have an olive in it

that means Valdemar's drink
wasn't poisoned.

And Garnier was
the intended victim.

Nothing to do
with Valdemar and his curse.

Which makes
the scarab business, what,

just a bit of mischief?

Well, it's a pretty extreme
bit of mischief,

given that the man who stole
that scarab is not dead.

We've only got
Shoukry's word for it,

that Beavis could have taken it,
don't forget.

More to the point,
how did Garnier

come by the poisoned martini,
if not from Bullings?

Given his form,
my money's still on Kenneth.

When he was younger, yeah.

He got in
with a bad crowd.

But he's a good lad
at heart.

And I should know,
I've had the raising of him.

How's that?

His mother upped and went off
with a Canadian.

He didn't want to be landed
with another bloke's kiddie.

So, it's just been Ken and me.

I've done my best by him.

Why, where was his father?

Tobruk.

He was buried out there.

Well...
what was left of him.

Panzer.

Flamethrower.

What's all this?

Everything from
Garnier's flat.

Pays to be thorough, right?

Quite right,
Constable.

It's mostly old tat from
Garnier's travels, sir.

I brought his post too,
lots of bills and final demands

as far as I can see.

Right, well,
put them on the evidence table

and I'll give it
a look through

once I've been through
the audience particulars.

Evenin', Pop.

Guilia.

You got
what I come for?

There.

Wasn't so hard, was it?

Guilia.

Liam Flynn.

Died in the ambulance.

Three stab wounds.

Two of which would have tested
the finest of surgeons.

Blade about
six inches long.

There's not much more
I can tell you, I'm afraid.

All right, Doctor,
thank you very much.

Flynn.

One of Eddie Nero's men,
isn't he?

Wallet's empty.

So you've never
seen him before?

No.

I don't know who he is.

His name was Liam Flynn.

He earned his living
extorting money

from businesses like yours.

Protection racket.

For a man
called Eddie Nero.

I wouldn't know anything
about that.

I told you what happened--
that's it.

All right, Mr. Gallo.

We'll just have a quick word
with your daughter

and we'll be on our way.

She's got nothing to say
more than what I've said.

Why don't we sit down,
Miss Gallo.

Your name came up on a list
of cinema goers at the Roxy

the night the organist died.

Yeah.

My night off.

My boyfriend works there.

Who's your boyfriend?

Ken.

Ken Bullings.

His granddad's
the projectionist.

Dad doesn't like him,
so don't say anything.

He'd only start creating.

Well, what the eye don't see.

But we'll need you to come clean
about last night.

Your father was paying
Flynn off, wasn't he?

For how long?

Long as I can remember.

Had anyone else been in
trying to offer their services?

I think you should go now.

Wha... look, we can help you,
Mr. Gallo.

Protect you from Nero.

No. You can't.

Go now.

Please.

Liam Flynn.

What's it to do with me?

They've kept quiet.

Gallo and his daughter,
in case you're wondering.

That's how your protection
racket works, isn't it?

People're too afraid
to speak out.

If anything happens to them,

we'll come after you
with everything we've got.

I'm quaking.

It's not us you've got
to worry about, though, is it?

Two of your properties
burnt out,

now one of your arm-breakers
draws the short straw.

I didn't know better,

I'd say someone's trying
to turn you over.

I'd like to see 'em try.

Hm, who wouldn't?

The eyes were more deep set,
I think, but apart from that...

How about this?

Better. Yeah.

- Okay.
- Yeah, that's better.

Miss Thursday's
just giving us

a description of the type
that did the windows in

at the advice center.

Right.

Well, when you're done,
if you've got a minute.

Okay.

So?

Well, I just wanted a word,
that's all.

Haven't seen
much of you lately.

You're all right, are you?

I think I'm out of a job,

but apart from that I'm okay.

You've been working
at this advice center?

A few days a week.

Can't be much money
in that.

There isn't.

But I like it.

You might look in.

I know you've seen Carol,
but your Uncle Charlie

and your Aunt Paulette'd
like to see you.

No need to worry
about running into me.

I'm at work.

It's not like that.

Isn't it?
No.

I'm just finding my feet
is all.

Charity work?

It's just helping people.

Same as you.

Oh, sorry, sir, I can come back.

No, Jim, it's all right,
I was just on my way.

If you've a minute, sir,

Mr. Bright would like a word
about the Flynn stabbing.
Right.

Well.

You know where to find me
if you need anything.

Mind how you go.

Oh.
Hi.

Hello.

How're things?

Oh, you know.

Same as ever.

You met Uncle Charlie, then?

What did you make of him?

Carol's nice, though.

You see her?

Yes.

I haven't seen her
for ages.

I was supposed to see her on
Tuesday, but something came up.

How's she looking now?

Oh, I'm just the driver.

No time to socialize.

Just a quick
"Hello," "Goodbye."

Yeah...

I remember those.

Give her my love if you run
into her before she goes back.

Don't expect I'll have time
to see her now.

Yeah, you're busy.

Yeah.

Yeah... you?

Always.

Well, I won't keep you from it.

Bye.

That bit of business.

I'm bringing it forward.

After hours.

Is that wise?

Wise?

I've got the filth all over me
with Flynn's stabbing.

I want it over.

But...

I'm not asking.
I'm telling.

When?

Tonight.

Hello, can you connect me

to the Peninsular and Oriental
Head Office, please?

So, what couldn't wait?

The autograph book doesn't
belong to Leslie Garnier, sir.

How's that?

Well, take a look
at the autographs.

The only one
with a dedication to Garnier,

is the last one from Valdemar.

Well, that's a pretty big
conclusion

to draw from not much.

There's something else.

You said it yourself.

Laurel and Hardy were in England
in 1953.

At that time,
Garnier was aboard

a cruise ship,
The Happy Wanderer.

I've spoken to P&O and on the
night of the tenth of February,

it was anchored off Sydney.

So... whose autograph book
was it?

It's not Garnier's.

I think, with all of this
Egyptiana-- the scarab,

the fact that Beavis died after
watching The Pharaoh's Curse.

I think somehow it's tied in
to Valdemar.

Valdemar?

Beavis steals the scarab
from the Pitt-Rivers museum

and meets whoever hired him
to hand it over at the cinema.

Only I don't think the killer
had any intention

of leaving Beavis alive to be
in a position to expose him.

So he spikes his carton
of orange juice.

How does he manage that?

The cartons're all sealed
aren't they?

If he's buying them off
the usherette,

all her cartons
have to be poisoned.

Else she's in on it.

Here. Try one.

Go on it's perfectly safe.

Oh, sorry.

Take this.

I just killed you.

It's not in the juice.

The poison was in the straw.

Garnier said Beavis
was waiting for someone

in the private lounge, but none
of the staff can remember

selling him a Whakahari.

So how's he come by it then?

Well, once the film has started,
all eyes are on the screen.

So whoever's buying the scarab
can slip into the cinema

in the dark,
take the seat next to Beavis,

hand him a carton of squash, and
a straw laced with strychnine.

Member of staff, then.

If they've access
to the refreshments stall.

See, we were never meant
to look into Beavis's death,

a nobody without a friend
in the world who died

supposedly of natural causes
at home.

I think it's about Valdemar.

He's the original
intended victim.

How d'you mean?

Garnier was never meant to die.

But once we came around
asking questions about Beavis,

I think he took it upon
to himself to make inquiries

of his own before naming names.

You think he confronted
the killer?

Well, I think he saw an
opportunity to make some money.

To stop playing for peanuts
in some fleapit cinema.

Garnier saw Beavis
hand over the scarab.

I thought he didn't see
who was with Beavis.

Well, he saw enough
to know who it was.

What could he have seen
from up there?

An arm? A sleeve?

Don't you think
there's something odd

about this autograph book?

Look, all of the signatures

are written across
the narrow of the page,

rather than its length,
and all crammed in.

And all of them, on the same
side of the book.

So?

Who holds a bloody book
like that?

Someone who has to.

A man with only one hand.

And that's what Garnier saw
from the rooftop.

The commissionaire?

Well, he'd worked
the variety circuit,

opened the door
for all the greats.

It's just another autograph book

stuck under the nose
of a star

who doesn't even see
who he's signing for anymore.

So, what?

Gordon adds
Akhenaten's cartouche,

and slips the book
into Garnier's pocket

before the performance.

Maybe he asked Garnier
to mind it for him.

Or perhaps he did it

when he swapped the martini
with the twist

for the martini with an olive.

There you go.

Not a word to Mr. De Vere.

I can keep a secret,
Edmund.

So long as the price
is right.

Why, though?

Where's the motive?

What possible link could it be
to a Hollywood star

and a one-armed doorman?

Well, actually there is
a connection.

It's the same thing they have
in common with you, sir.

Of course.

What?

Hello?

You don't remember me,

Mr. Valdemar.

I'm afraid I don't.

Should I?

No.

I suppose not after 50 years.

But I remember you.

What?

Second Lieutenant Roberts.

Private Gordon, sir.

Worcestershire Pals.

Good Lord.

Coming back to you now, sir?

Nablus.

That's right, sir.

The advance to the
Wadi el Fara road.

You ordered our section
to charge

an Ottoman machine gun
emplacement.

That was the order
that came down the line.

No, sir.

The order that came down
the line was to stand fast.

I found that out later.

The battle was already won.

But young
Second Lieutenant Roberts

hadn't got himself a medal.

And that wouldn't do.

Mowed down.

A whole section.

My brother Ernie among them.

Cost him his life.

I was lucky--

just an arm.

And the hope of a life.

A normal man's life leastways.

But we took that machine gun.

And you got your medal.

Course, by the time
I was discharged from hospital,

the armistice
had been signed,

and nobody was much interested
in how a dozen men died

when the world was mourning
17 million.

I was 19.

Oh, I remember, sir.

Scarce old enough to shave.

But old enough to lie.

It was your report of the action

that stood in
the regimental record.

Made the papers too.

"How the brave young
second lieutenant won through."

No, no, no, no, no,
that wasn't me.

That was the papers.

The country needed heroes.

Come on.

I tried to forget it.

That's the thing.

To put it all behind me,

and the only place,
funnily enough,

that I could put it out of
my mind was at the pictures.

And then one day

there you were...

Up on the screen, large as life.

Larger.

Only you weren't

Second Lieutenant Roberts
any more.

You were Emil Valdemar...

...star of The Pharaoh's Curse.

Oh, smoke...

That'll be Mr. De Vere, sir.

He's setting a fire
to burn the place down

so the owners will sell.

Doesn't much matter now.

What do you want?

Justice.

For the boys.

After 50 years, an end to it--
for you and me.

We should've gone with them.

Only we didn't.

I can put that right now.

There's a piece of white cloth
by the organ, there, sir--

and a safety pin.

What?

You remember what happened

to cowards, sir.

Shot at dawn.

You pin it
over your heart.

I'll do no such thing.

With or without--
it's all the same to me.

Gordon!

What the hell's going on?

Morse.

Morse!

He's coming.
He's coming!
Follow me.

Gordon!

Stay back!

Don't!

Gordon!
Come back now.

Come on.

Thanks very much, matey.

No survivors
according to the fire boys.

With De Vere gone
we've no way to prove

who put him up to
setting the fire.

No way to prove it maybe, sir,

but Eddie Nero's very close
with the owner's son.

He was for selling the place,
wasn't he?

I suppose there's nothing
to stop it being developed now.

We'll get Nero, sir,
sooner or later.

Will we?

Division's eye turned upon
Thames Valley?

This race business.

Now one of Nero's racketeers
stabbed to death in the street.

It bodes ill, Thursday.

We're still on the job, sir.

I fear this time
that might not be enough.

"Except the Lord keep the city,

the Watchman waketh
but in vain."

Listen...

No, no.
On your way now.

You don't want to hit
the rush hour.

You're the best of us,
Fred.

The best of us
never came home.

Well, that's that, then.

Yeah.

That's that.

You do not need it
for evidence?

There's no case to take
to court, Doctor.

It's back
where it belongs.

The man who did these things,

in the final judgment,

did his heart speak against him,
do you think?

Gordon?

Who knows?

I'm not one for all that.

And the afterlife?

Lies beyond
our jurisdiction.

A detective
and the archaeologist.

Perhaps we are not
so very different after all.

How's that?

We both speak for those
who cannot.

You with your fingerprints, and
me with my fragments of pottery.

We are each of us, I think,
keepers of the dead.

How does someone start
a policeman,

and end up a thief?

Beavis, you mean?

Well, you know as well as I do,

that given the right
circumstances,

anybody's capable of anything.

Plus he had no family

to keep him on the straight.

Lot to be said for family.

And what if you don't have any?

Do you think that's how
you end up your days?

Alone in some two-bob kip

with nothing but a bottle
for company?

That's his future, not yours.

You'll make
better choices.

Oh, Carol said to say
cheerio, by the way.

They've gone back, then?

Yeah.

Yeah, they've gone back.

It was good of you
to show her round.

Don't mention it.