Original subtitles

Time for a quick one before the service, Your Reverence.

Everything all right?

Yes, thanks, Harry.

Ready to get on with it?

Yes? What?

Wait a minute.

Where?

Okay,

I'll be there in 12 minutes.

Hello, sir.

Who

is

he? Mr.

Josephson. Harry's the... Harry was church warden.

It's his wife outside.

We're down.

Could someone, please?

Always best to throw light on the scene if you can.

Well, Max, one very fierce blow, death instantaneous.

What happened?

Well, nobody actually saw it, but... It was right at the end of the service. Mr

Joseph had just brought the collection back here to the vestry.

There was, um, a tramp at the service.

He even took communion.

Hello,

Matty. Over.

Mike, can you notify for me an elderly vagrant, Swan, I think his name is, Swan

or Swanee, sleeps rough probably, although he's got a few quid on him now,

may be in a pub.

Yeah, or check the off licences.

He's wearing an overcoat, but there was a hell of a lot of blood about, so he's

probably ditched it.

Out.

I shall never understand these religious types.

That's because you have no soul, Morse. If you were a vicar, would you slid open

your letters with the cross of Christ?

It's pretty high, Sir Doctor, but it's spiky.

That's what they mean by the beauty of holiness.

All finished, sir. All right, thanks, Lewis. Go through his pockets, will you?

I'll go and get someone to identify him formally.

Just a minute, Lewis.

Hold this for me.

Told you right, sir.

I really don't think you should speak to Mrs Joseph now.

She's terribly shocked.

You knew Mr Joseph, did you, madam?

Yes, of course.

I wonder if you and Mr Morris, is it? Yes.

I need two witnesses for formal identification, if you and Mrs...

Ruth Rawlinson.

It wouldn't upset you too much, Mrs Rawlinson, to... No, no.

I think I can manage it.

And, by the way, it's Miss.

Not to Mrs.

Thank you, miss.

It's Harry Josephs.

Thank you, sir.

That all?

Yes, thank you.

Now, miss.

Just a glance, just so long as you're sure who it is.

Yes.

Harry Josephs.

Thank you very much, miss.

I expect you want to go home now.

Would you like me to come with you? No, no, I'm all right.

I'll look after her. Don't worry, Ruth.

I'm... I'm fine.

I'll call you when I've got Brenda home.

All things pretty straightforward.

Straightforward, perhaps, but pretty?

I'm so sorry. I didn't realize

it. Just a couple of things. I don't want to trouble you for long at a time

this. I was wondering, how many people were there at the service?

Thirteen.

And you don't know all. Perhaps you do know who they all were.

Oh, they...

Could be witnesses, you mean.

Oh, dear, I never thought. I just said that Mr.

Josephs was ill, that the service was over, and then I ran to call an

I'm so sorry.

No, mine would be able to trace them, I expect.

Well, I doubt if they could add very much, Inspector. They were all up in the

lady chapel. I was the only one who saw anything.

And what did you see, exactly?

Not very much. It was more hearing, some sort of commotion.

Then I saw the vestry curtains shaking, so I went to see what was happening,

and, uh... And, uh... Did you see this man, Swanee, leaving the church?

Not exactly.

I mean, it's quite dark down there. I saw someone. I suppose I just assumed

it was him.

Thirteen. That's not very many, is it, sir?

Oh, it's not bad for a special service. What was special about it?

It's the feast of the conversion of St. Augustine.

Yes,

well, thank you very much, sir. I'll be in touch.

Yes.

Of course.

Lewis.

Nasty for him, all this.

Nasty, Lewis, nasty.

And all for a measly few quid off the collection plate.

For the bastard had only known. Lewis, you're in church.

Known what?

George has had a couple of hundred quid in his trouser pocket.

Letting slip.

Oh, hello, Jimmy.

Oh, Vicar.

I... I... I... I... Tricks.

Seen anything of Swanee recently?

No.

I've been to Bromstrow.

Hello, Vicar.

Ah, Taffy, you're quite a pal of Swanee's, aren't you?

You might be, sir.

When did you last see him?

I don't know, sir.

I don't know that I did see him like.

I don't know that I even know him, see?

Get him subbed up, see what he remembers.

Come on.

Many of our guests have found it helpful to follow the tour with the guidebook

in hand.

Oh,

you did give me a start.

I'm sorry.

I'd like to talk to you, if you've got a minute.

Perhaps over a drink.

That's very kind of you, but I have to get home.

I look after my mother, Inspector.

She must have one hot meal a day, and she can't sleep if she eats at night,

so... I see.

Was there something urgent? No, no, no.

You're a regular at St. Oswell's, I take it?

I've been in the choir since I was 12.

They'll give me a medal soon.

Yes, I like music. Not...

Church choirs.

Jazz.

Humphrey Littleton. George Melly.

Music.

Shall we go?

You were a friend of the Josephs, weren't you? That's why you stayed after

service. I just stayed anyway. It's my job to tidy up.

Oh, really?

I'm the church cleaner.

Someone has to do it, and it's good for my soul.

And yes.

Brenda's one of my very best friends.

Well, look, it's not important, and I certainly don't want to pester Mrs.

Josephs with it, but Mr.

Josephs gambled, didn't he?

The church and the turf are old friends, you know.

But how could he afford

it? Oh.

I mean, he was unemployed, I understand, and Mrs. Josephs works as a nurse at

the Radcliffe, yet he was gambling big sums.

Does he have private money?

No.

The vicar didn't seem to want to discuss it. It's a very funny thing, but as

soon as someone doesn't want to discuss something, I do.

Lionel would never speak ill of the dead.

I would prefer not to, too.

I'm sure you would, but I'd rather not...

Ask Mrs. Josephs.

Money was going missing from the collection.

Nothing was ever proved.

But as the church warden's responsible for accounting it... Thank you.

I think it's quite dreadful the way society just guards people when it no

wants them. A man like that, a hero, just thrown on the scrap heap as though

was no use to anyone.

Was he a hero?

He was in the Marines.

He felt trapped.

So he gambled to make enough money to... But of course it never works like that.

So he drank because he lost and... Well, he's free now.

I don't know whether to be sad or happy.

Drinking as well.

He lost his licence last year.

Perhaps you should be happy.

If it's any consolation, he must have been quite happy yesterday.

He had a couple of hundred pounds on him. His last big win, I imagine.

I don't think anything will console me for Harry's death.

Moth.

Oh, hello, Max. How are you?

What?

Are you sure?

Good God.

Well, thanks a lot, Max.

Still no sign of this Swanee, sir. But the old Welsh tramp says he thinks his

name used to be Swanpole.

To hell with that Swanee, Swanpole. He may have nothing to do with it.

Joseph's was probably dead before the knife went in.

What? Max said there was enough morphine in his stomach to kill an elephant.

Yes, it was certainly meant to kill.

A substantial death. In what form? White powder.

Morphine comes as white powder. I mean, how did he take it? By mouth.

Well, yes, yes, but... Oh, you mean in what form was it ingested?

Max. Well, I can't, of course, be absolutely certain.

So I'd venture the tentative opinion that the form was liquid.

But not your sort.

Wine, not beer.

How long would it have taken to affect him? Oh, I couldn't possibly say.

Not exactly.

Inexactly? He'd be unconscious in somewhere between 40 and 50 seconds,

on his constitution.

And to kill him?

Six minutes.

Does it mix easy, sir?

Morphine and wine?

Now, that's what I call an intelligent question.

You'd have to swizzle it up a bit, but yes, it soon disappears in wine.

I want to say, I've got the contents of his stomach just through here.

Oh.

How do you get morphine, Max?

I'll write myself a prescription and go to Boots.

Must have been during the service.

Thank you, Lewis. I hadn't thought that far.

Well, I don't understand it. Why anybody should want to kill him twice?

Didn't it was some sort of ritual?

All church services are rituals, Lewis.

Yeah, but I mean like a black mass.

Big pieces in the Sunday papers about black masses.

Oh, yeah.

You think the Reverend Lionel Portland was indulging in orgies on the altar

Miss Rawlinson and Mrs.

Josephs?

Well, he may not have been killed twice.

But he was.

I mean, by the same person.

One person slept in the morphine, you mean, and another stamped him.

Having suffered?

Possibly.

Left hand not knowing what the right was doing.

Pretty long odds, eh?

Very long odds.

Oh, you can whine if you're professional enough about it, aren't you? This was

an amateur.

Part time with a favourite now?

Where are those basics?

Thank you.

Excuse me, miss.

Routine inquiry.

You wouldn't remember the man who wrote these out, would you?

Aged about 45.

Harry? Harry Joseph.

He's in here all the time. What about him?

He's met with an accident.

Oh, okay. Poor Harry.

Is he all right?

Did he have a big win here yesterday?

Harry.

Why? Is he all right? I'm afraid not. Oi, governor.

Here, do you think I can have a bit?

Go ahead, go ahead.

What's happened?

Heart attack, was it?

No.

Has he had any kind of big win recently?

No.

He's never had much luck at all, really.

What's happened? I'm afraid he's been murdered.

Pretty much the loser all around, how he does it. So where did the 200 quid come

from?

Somewhere.

Thanks.

You know what, Lewis?

No, what?

We need inspiration.

Divine inspiration.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Amen. The Lord be with you. And with thy spirit.

Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from whom

secrets are hid, cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of thy

Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love thee and worthily magnify thy holy name.

Through Christ.

Our Lord.

Amen.

Can't you remember anything about him?

Mind if I had a drink?

Swanpole.

Swanpole? Funny sort of name, isn't it? People use all sorts of names, see? Feel

better that way, like?

Never know who's after you, see?

I'll be after you if you can't tell me a bit more about this swanny.

I didn't have such a terrible thirst.

Oh, God bless you.

When you've remembered.

I did, yes, Swan. He was the vicar's relation.

What of old Paul, then?

Whatever his name is.

His brother.

That's what I heard.

Oh, God bless the keeper, sir.

The blood of Christ.

The blood of Christ.

The blood of Christ.

See who's last in line.

The church warden.

The blood of Christ.

Rogatian would be dead.

Look at that.

Talk about ritual.

He's ritualizing away the evidence.

It must have been Paul, and nobody else could have put the stuff in the wine.

How did he do it without killing everyone else?

Where's his swizzle stick to mix it up?

He doesn't need one.

He's crafty.

He arranges it so the wine runs out just before Joseph's.

So he had to go and get some more, already poisoned.

He puts that in the cup.

Chalice. The word is chalice, Lewis.

Poison chalice, indeed.

What?

Never mind.

You're being quite intelligent there, go on.

Well, that's it, really.

He gives Joseph the chalice.

From which he, and he alone, then had to drink.

That's murdering himself as well as Joseph. Very clever.

He only pretends to drink, then he wipes the rest of the stuff away like we just

saw.

I don't know.

So elaborate.

Well, the whole thing's elaborate.

Knife and the poison.

Of course, if we knew why he'd done it.

Who?

Whoever did do it.

No one person can do it.

Well, this is a mass murder at Lewis, obviously.

A high mass murder.

Come on.

No bloodstains, nothing.

What? Come here.

It's all right. I shan't bite.

This is the house of God, Peter.

Murder is a very terrible act.

You mustn't treat it as a joke.

I'm very sorry, sir.

Off you go.

And don't run.

Peter!

Don't disappear. We're going home in two minutes.

Okay.

I saw you in the congregation, Inspector. Any sign of Swampo? No, sir,

Tell me, this service now, was it the same one as on the day of the murder?

Oh, no, no. This was the fallen high mass.

That was the simple one.

So you didn't have all those people with censors and so on? No, no. I

administered single -handed. Why?

Hello? Hello.

Mr. Joseph, church warden.

He was the last to take communion, was he?

Yes.

Who was next to him?

His murderer, I'm afraid.

It's a terrible thing to take the sacrament with murder in your heart.

Terrible. My one consolation in this messy business is that Harry died in a

state of grace.

Are the flowers coming on Wednesday or Thursday?

Of all the sanctimonious twaddle, he did it.

I know he did it.

Why?

Blackmail, Lewis.

Paul and Francis' choir boys.

Joseph's had a joint account with his wife. See if he had one all of his own.

See if that's how he financed his betting.

They're not allowed to tell us that sort of thing, sir. In any case... It's all

right, Lewis. The manager drinks in my pub.

And when you've finished here, get over to Morris's, the organist.

See if you can pick up anything there.

Who is it?

Chief Inspector Morse, CID.

Who?

Inspector Morse, Oxford CID.

I'll press the buzzer.

Hello. Mrs. Rumlinson?

Yes. I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name.

That silly contraption. Morse. Inspector Morse.

Will you come in, Inspector?

I'm afraid I haven't quite mastered that buzzer thing yet.

My daughter had it put in while I was away in Switzerland.

Switzerland? Yes.

The Von Fried Clinic.

Lowdown. We hope they might be able to do something about my wretched

Can I get you something?

There's some sherry, I believe, in that cupboard in the corner, if you'd like to

help yourself.

I'm afraid I can't quite reach.

It's Ruth you've come to see, I suppose.

Well, yes.

It's about this awful business at the church.

Yes, Ruth's been most helpful.

You sure you want to have a sherry?

I usually have one at this time of the day.

Ruth gets it for me.

You could keep me company.

How can she have got to?

Let's both have a drink, shall we, while we're waiting.

Oh, you are kind.

Just a very small one.

Oh, Mr Morris, I'm sorry to bother you, but we need some clarification on...

I'm sorry, I didn't realise.

It's not that it's bad for arthritis particularly, it's bad for her.

Alcohol is a depressant and she gets very, well... I'd rather she wasn't

involved in all this anyway. Couldn't you have come to see me at work? I

you'd come home after the service.

I'm sorry.

What do you want to know?

It's a bit delicate.

Mr. Paulan.

He's not too fond of his choir boys, is he?

I think he likes them well enough.

Oh, you mean... Heavens, no.

Lionel? No, no, no.

What on earth gave you that idea?

It just crossed my mind.

You've been reading too many Sunday papers.

He's not married.

Nor am I.

But I'm not a pervert, I assure you.

As a matter of fact, I'm not married either.

Perhaps I could take you for dinner.

Well, you're very kind.

I'm free this evening.

How about you?

You mustn't let your mother dominate your life, Ruth.

I try not to, but... Tonight, thanks all the same, but some other night,

perhaps.

Now, I really must go make her tea 20 minutes later already.

We have quite a few Cambridge men in the Oxford diocese.

Before that, it was Stamford Grammar School.

I'm afraid I don't know him as well as I should. There's so much paperwork these

days. You keep files in all your victors, sir?

Yes, well, I suppose they are files, but when you say it like that, Inspector...

The file on Lionel Paulin, that doesn't happen to mention any scandal, does it,

sir?

Well, now, I rather assumed that's why you came to see me.

But I can assure you there's nothing whatever in Paulin's character to

any violence.

Rather the contrary.

It wasn't violence I was thinking of. Ah.

This is delicate ground.

The church, I'm afraid, is a great deal of trouble with unfounded rumor.

What was it?

Choir boys?

Nothing was ever proved.

Quite the contrary.

The atmosphere became so poisoned in his last parish.

I must emphasize there was never a shred of evidence.

Oh, we'd not have employed him at St Oswald's.

She'd got nothing on underneath, I could see.

Lucky you.

Paul Morris is a widower, right?

Mrs Josephs is just there for the time being, he says, till she gets over her

shock. Well, if you ask me... Thanks, Lewis, I've got the picture. What about

the bank?

Oh, you were dead right there.

Pauling's been paying Harry Josephs 500 quid a month for the last five months.

Special account.

Must be blackmail, like you said.

Yes, Joseph, you about the choir boy?

Paulan got fed up with paying him off.

What about this tramp, Lewis? Where the hell is this tramp?

I don't know.

Don't keep saying that.

Come on, I need a beer.

You know, I've been thinking.

It was an awful lot of that morphine in Joseph's body.

Would have needed a lot of wine to dissolve it. He was last in line.

All the same.

Perhaps they all resented it, so Paulan knew that he'd be safe.

I hadn't thought of that.

Why kill him twice?

Panic. Didn't keel over as expected.

Started to call for help.

Paulan did him with the first thing in the hand.

And the trump?

Just ask that question, Lewis.

Supposing he's Paulan's brother?

I'm not supposing anything until I've had at least two pints of beer.

You were round, Lewis.

Always my round.

And it's your lucky day. I've just gone off the beer.

Hey, what's the matter?

I've decided to have an early night.

All those questions you were asking, Lewis, we'll try them on the Reverend

Lionel Paul and first thing in the morning.

I hope you can see Wednesday, then, perhaps.

Good morning, sir.

Inspector, I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask you. About your brother,

for instance.

My brother?

Yes, I'm sure you won't mind coming down to the station.

No.

No, of course not.

I'll just, um... My clothes.

I didn't see you in church.

That's because I wasn't there.

Oh, we'll convert you yet, I hope.

You'll have to give me a lot of your attention now.

How's your mother?

Oh, quite a good night, thanks.

I only had to move her twice.

She can't always turn without help.

Well, what does she do when you're not there?

Oh, I never leave her on her own.

Don't you think you should get a nurse?

Inspector.

No.

No.

I'm afraid she isn't here.

She's gone to see Brenda Josephs, I rather think.

Just say I called, will you?

Goodbye.

What the hell are you doing here?

You wanted to know about the school?

There were two brothers.

The other one was called Simon Oliver.

A couple of years younger than the vicar.

What did you say this bloke's name was?

Dr. Starkey.

I hope he's not too old to remember.

He sounded all right on the phone.

How long has he been retired?

12 years, he said.

Paulin, from Paul.

Saint Paul, probably, or possibly Pavo.

How's your Latin, Inspector?

Pavo, Sergeant?

I have no idea, sir.

Pavo, Pavonis, a peacock.

Now, of the two, Simon was the one with the peacock nature.

Oh, I don't mean a bird brain.

By no means.

He was the brighter of the two, in both senses.

But of a sharp dresser, wasn't he?

Snazzy. What I used to call snazzy.

People still say snazzy?

I think so.

Lionel, on the other hand, was sober, hard -working.

Beater, every essay.

But then he had to work hard, whereas Simon, when he applied himself, alpha.

Shame, really.

What is it?

Simon would have made a far more charismatic clergyman.

Bishop material, I'd say.

The school hasn't had a bishop for a long time.

What happened to Simon?

Oh, what always happens to peacocks.

They start with fine feathers and lots of pea hens.

Then when the feathers begin to molt, Simon took to the drinking trough, broke

his mother's heart.

Is she still alive?

No, she died soon after the father.

Boys were left well enough off, but Simon... I wonder what has become of

The old aunt died last year. She must have left him quite a bit, too.

You don't know if Lionel left anything to the school, do you? He wasn't

was he?

No. As a matter of fact, sir, boys will be boys, as you know better than anyone.

And I was wondering... No, I'm glad to say that the school has always been

singularly free of that sort of thing.

All the same, sir. No, there was never any suggestion of that.

With either of the boys, I can assure you.

Morse, that's a good Oxford name.

Is it?

Same as Morris.

Morse, Morris.

Both from the French, Maurice, Swarthy.

You're the wrong branch of the family. You might have been in charge of British

Leyland.

It's Austin Rover now, sir.

It was Lionel Paulin's intention, as he expressed to me, to give most of the

money away.

And not a penny for Simon Paulin?

The aunt specifically stated that she did not wish that he should benefit by

much as a farthing.

I understand he once borrowed from her and, well, he had no legal or, under the

circumstances, moral claim, whatever.

Then why was he going to bring a case?

He found an unscrupulous lawyer.

There are such people about, Inspector.

Someone who knew he couldn't win the case, but who could bring about the

amount of public embarrassment.

Blackmail? It came to that.

I advised Lionel against it.

Simon Oliver Paulin would only have come back and back.

Indeed, I rather gathered from something Lionel said.

His brother had given him a good deal of trouble in the same sort of way before.

Oh, had he?

Hope she'll be all right there on her own. Oh, of course she will. It's just

what she needs.

She's been under terrible stress.

Anyway, I shall be going down tomorrow, probably.

Are you sure you won't have another cup?

No, really, thanks.

I have to get back to Mother. All right.

Take care of yourself.

You too.

Just coming to the end.

That's all right, Paul.

You take your time.

Not in.

Thank you, Lewis. I had managed to deduce that.

What does he do when he's not playing the organ?

Teachers down at the Comprehensive. But it's the holidays.

I hope he hasn't gone on his holidays without informing me.

He's probably at Mrs Joseph's.

It's time we talked to the pair of them.

Milk cancelled till further notice.

Come on, Luke.

Where are we going? The scene of the crime.

Or the scene of the crimes.

I reckon Paul must have been carrying the ballot.

There were a ton.

Come on, come on.

I don't like this kind of church.

What are we looking for?

I don't know.

Lewis, do you know what all those keys are for?

No. Have you been up there?

Can we go?

No.

It was.

There's nothing down here, sir.

Fifty -five.

Fifty -six.

Oh,

you go ahead. I need a breather.

There you go, sir. Fresh air.

Magic.

Whoo!

God, what a view!

You can nearly see Scotland.

What the hell did I come up here for?

View!

You all right?

Fine, fine.

Just not as fit as I should be, that's all.

It's the beer.

Just shut up about beer.

What's the matter?

I'm scared of bloody heights, you stupid sod.

Oh, my God.

Sir?

What is it?

I'm afraid you'll have to come and see for yourself.

She's coming right away, sir.

Thanks.

I don't know why they let Paul stay on this case.

It's a murder, a minute.

Murder, sir? Yeah.

There couldn't be suicide following the victim's example.

Well, I suppose he could have hanged himself then leapt off the tower.

Hanged himself?

He was garrotted, Morse.

Garrotted, then shoved.

Lewis, see if they've found the boy yet. What boy?

He's got a 12 -year -old son.

Oh, dear.

At least I hope so.

Good afternoon, miss.

Inspector Morse is just over there. I'll take you by.

Thank you.

There's no -one in the house, sir. They're going in with the next -door

neighbour now. Right.

This is very good of you.

Really.

I couldn't think of else to ask.

It's all right.

You sure?

Paul Morris.

Excuse me, it's my boss.

What the hell is going on here, Morse? I wish I knew.

Mayor and corporation, is it?

First grass of the year, I sincerely hope.

Who is it this time?

The organist, the name of Morris.

His son sings in the choir.

We can't find him. Oh, my God.

I'm sure boys come into this somewhere.

Harry, Joseph was blackmailing Paul in about something, and I saw Paul in

ruffling Morris's lad's hair, right in there, after Joseph was dead.

Beltre, you mean?

Could be.

What about this tramp?

Swanpole.

Swanpole is such an unusual name.

Should have asked Dr. Starkey at Stamford.

Of course.

He is Paulan's brother.

What?

S .O. Paulan. It's an anagram.

Do you mind telling me what you're talking about? The vicar.

He had a ne 'er -do -well brother, Simon Oliver.

Simon Oliver?

Yeah, supposed to be a great womanizer. Took to the bottle, you know.

I'm glad to say I don't.

But where is he, whatever his name is?

And where is the boy?

I hope he's not dead.

I hope so.

Nothing there. We know the car's at St. Oswald's. Hey, Mum, look.

His new skateboard's gone.

So it is.

There's someone else gone missing, too.

Morris's girlfriend.

Who's she?

The murdered church warden's widow.

Oh, my God, Morse. Oh, it's here.

It has to be here somewhere, the missing clue.

Better bloody well find it, then.

Enjoy your dinner, sir.

Miss Rawlinson thinks she might know where Mrs Joseph is.

I don't know exactly. She just said somewhere on the river. It was all

too much for you. Which river?

The Thames.

She's talked about...

Cookham and Marlowe.

Mrs. Joseph?

Yes? There's a telephone call for you.

Hello? Paul?

Oh, it's you.

What do you want?

Hello, Ed.

And you.

Ruth, could you do something for me?

Would you show me exactly what you heard and saw that day?

I was there.

Brenda was here.

Paul was at the organ, of course.

And Land was at the altar.

Lewis, go and stand by the altar.

Can you see the vestry from there?

Just about, yeah.

Did you hear anything?

No.

The organ was playing.

I didn't know anything was wrong till I saw Lionel suddenly rush down the aisle.

And the others?

I don't think anyone heard anything.

Perhaps they weren't supposed to hear anything.

What?

Nothing.

Who were they, these others?

I really don't know.

Not regular.

Americans, I think.

Tourists? We get them all the time. They treat church services as part of old

England, like Shakespeare at Stratford. All very quaint.

So, apart from you, the vicar...

The organist, the church warden and his wife and this tramp.

All the others were just a bunch of American voyeurs.

Oh, I didn't mean to be unkind. Did they take communion?

I think so, yes.

Yes, some of them did, I'm sure.

Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.

Who do you think would want to kill Paul Morris?

I don't know.

I really can't think. You see, unless there's something you haven't told me

about, I can't see anyone with a motive.

Harry Joseph's now. If he was still alive, he'd have a motive.

Sexual jealousy.

And the vicar himself.

If he weren't dead, he'd have a motive too.

If poor Morris were blackmailing. I wish I could help. I really do.

You've helped enough already.

How's your mother?

Heavens, the time.

She'll think something dreadful's happened to me.

Yes.

Not the best way of putting it, quite.

Thanks so much for walking me home, Inspector.

I can't go on calling you Inspector.

What's your name?

Morse. People just call me Morse.

Thank you, Morse.

Is that you, rules?

Paul Morris.

Have you got anything against Paul?

I don't know.

You're perfectly safe now You're safe you're with

me

Go to bed.

I was thinking to myself... My thoughts are bred of loneliness and depression,

Lewis. Ignore them.

I was thinking there might be something in what you were saying.

I doubt it.

About the Paulan brothers.

There's three of them in on the plot to kill Harry Joseph.

The two Paulans and Paul Morris.

And whichever brother it turns out to be, he kills off the other two

In order to think about that, Lewis, you'll have to have another pint,

Hurry. The castle's empty.

I'll have to go down to the cellar and get a new one up. Well, hurry up. My

brain's just beginning to work.

You'll see if I'm right.

Oh, my God, Lewis.

The cellar.

The vault. We didn't look in the vault, did we? We've got to be in.

anyone down there for you.

Want me to go for it? No, it's all right. I'm not afraid of death.

Is this boat free? Can I go out in it?

Yeah, sure.

Think you can handle it on your own, love?

Yes, of course I can.

This belong coke.

No oil.

There's a big tank at the back of the churchyard. You ought to sell that lot,

then.

Oh, there's nothing here, sir.

Thank God for that.

I thought perhaps the boy... Yeah.

Well, sure you did. Yes.

Yes.

Hello, Ed.

Yeah?

Up that end just now, were you as scared as I was?

I was a bit spooked, yeah.

Right. So would anyone be.

No one likes coffins, unless you're an undertaker.

So, if anyone was going to hide a body down here, they'd use this end, wouldn't

they? But there isn't any way.

Get digging, Lewis.

There must be a reason.

I think he's mad.

No,

I don't think he's mad.

Psychopathic, yes, but not mad.

Not mad at all.

Hello.

Hello.

Am I allowed a kip in the morning, or is it only after half?

Is that all?

Is that all you came for? I wish it were.

Now, something crossed my mind. Did Lionel Paulin always wear specs?

Always. I thought so. There goes another theory.

Gold rims?

Yes.

Hello, can you just hold the light, please?

Yes, they're in his pocket.

Really?

That's rather odd, isn't it?

Suicides always take off their specs before they jump. It's as if they were

going to sleep.

Good heavens.

All, I suppose, in a way. Tell me, are you still cleaning in the church?

Yes, of course.

I was wondering, I thought perhaps you'd... The house of the Lord must

swept and garnished.

Garnished.

Hello, can you hold on, please?

Thank you.

Nice word, garnished.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

What day do you actually get to garnish, Ruth?

Sorry to keep you.

Wednesday, on my way home from work.

Were you thinking of asking the cleaner for a drink?

How did you get?

And thanks.

Good. See you this evening, then.

Look after yourself.

Where did you get that about suicides and glasses?

I got it off the back of a matchbox.

It happens to be true.

If you ever find a suicide with smashed glass in his face, it's murder.

Remember that.

I will.

Do you think we're making any progress with this case, sir?

Good question.

But as my old history master used to say, having looked that problem squarely

the face, let us now pass on.

Came to stay for a week, she said.

Looks more like a month to me.

About the women?

Looks like she was expecting a visit, eh?

Yes. She had a phone call that evening at dinner from a man.

But no secular song.

No, no, nothing like that.

Nothing much in there, sir.

S .O. She keeps writing S .O.

Boyfriend's initials? St. Oswald's, more like.

Right.

She went a lot every Sunday and a couple of times during the week as well.

Yeah, she had to, didn't she? She had to take her husband. He'd lost his

licence. And then his life.

Well, thank you, Sergeant. There's nothing here for us that I can see.

Lewis? Nothing.

Off we go, then.

Wait a minute. Let me see that diary again.

What day was Harry Joseph's, maybe?

Wednesday the 26th.

Well, look at that.

Remember your Sherlock Holmes, Lewis?

Is there any point to which you would wish to draw my attention?

To the curious incident of the dog in the night time.

The dog did nothing in the night time. That was the curious incident.

I see.

It's blank, Lewis.

The day is completely blank.

Where did Paul and Bank?

The Midland.

Tell them we're on our way.

Do we really have to go so fast, then? Yes.

I'm sure the bank manager will... Who's left, Lewis?

What?

Thirteen people at that service.

Five of them are now dead.

Joseph, his wife, the vicar, the organist, and the organist's son.

Six of them have passed on in their tourist coach to Blenheim Palace,

-on -Avon, Bath, Salisbury Cathedral.

Mr. Rawlinson?

And Simon Paulin.

Yes, and one or the other is in mortal danger, if not both.

What was the day?

The 26th. The 26th.

Ah, yes.

Conversion of St. Augustine.

13th in the congregation.

Signed, Lionel Paulin.

He was always having odd services, Lionel.

How do people know when there's a service on?

It's in the monthly parish notes.

There's nothing for the 26th. No?

I expect you put up a notice.

Announced it in church, maybe.

These notes aren't the law and the prophets.

Have you ever celebrated the conversion of St. Augustine?

Yes, I expect so.

Who'd know? About St. Augustine.

Try the Archdeacon. More up his aisle than mine.

Yes, there are two St.

Augustines, Hippo and Canterbury.

Which one do you want?

Either would do.

Ah, just as I thought.

Augustine of Canterbury was born a Christian. Didn't have to be converted.

What about Hippo?

Oh, he was converted. A celebrated sinner.

Give me chastity and continence, O Lord, but not yet.

That was his unregenerate motto.

Conversion 386 A .D.

What day?

No bother, doesn't say.

I shall have to look that up in the paturgical calendar.

There we are.

Ah, funny, no mention of it.

Try the 26th of last month.

What the hell was Paul in celebrating?

A personal devotion, perhaps?

To chastity?

Not bloody likely.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you'd never come. I'm so,

so sorry.

I'll get you a drink.

Thank you.

It's a bad day.

Thank you.

You're so good to me.

Too good.

Sometimes I think I've ruined your life.

Don't be so silly.

I have a very good life.

Not anymore.

Darling.

Ruth.

Do you think we... Could possibly afford to send me back to Switzerland again.

About time you put her in a home.

I couldn't do that.

Do yourself a favour.

You're still a very attractive woman, Ruth.

When you want to be.

Lionel paid for the clinic last time. I can't possibly afford it on my own.

Oh.

I see.

I didn't get involved in all this just so your mother could go to Switzerland,

you know.

I'll pay you back.

Really.

I'll sell the house when... when she... Look.

I'll think about it.

Would you?

You make it worth my while.

There isn't time. Yes, there is.

And the boss is a way little Ruthie can play.

I thought you could.

Have you heard from Brenda?

No.

Well, I suppose she's safe enough where she is.

You be careful, Ruth.

This business with Paul Morris, I don't like it.

I don't like it at all.

Don't joke about it.

I'm not joking.

You be careful.

Oh, there you are, sir. I got what you wanted. Harry Joseph's keys to the

church. Were they in his pockets?

No.

No, what do you mean? Then where the hell are they?

I don't know.

Don't you want to hear about Pauline's bank account? Tell me on the way to the

church.

30 ,000?

That's what I said. Pauline took out 30 ,000 in cash?

Yes. Well, that's enough to start a new life.

It's certainly enough to kill for. Yeah.

But why kill Harry Josephs?

What are we doing now?

This is the killing ground, Lewis. This is where they all die.

Not Mrs.

Josephs. That's where she'll be buried, though.

No, you stay in the car. Keep your eye on the door.

Hello, Ruthie.

What are you doing here?

I didn't hear you come in. Ah, you wouldn't, would you?

I was here already, Fee.

I was up in the tower.

The wonderful view from up there.

I love looking down on things.

And people.

You can't stay here. Someone will see you. No, they won't. I've locked the

There's no one here but us. Sit down.

I want to talk to you.

It's Brenda.

Yes.

I'm afraid so.

There's just the two of us left now, Ruthie.

Oh, dear.

Oh, Brenda.

You or me.

It couldn't be anyone else, could it?

You are too, you bastard.

Are you all right?

Don't stop, Mr. Morse.

The view is wonderful from up here.

Come down.

Not much further.

Come back down. I want to talk to you.

Not much further.

Must have been hard work.

Carrying a body up here?

Look.

I understand about your wife.

And I understand about Paul Morris.

Why did you have to kill the boy?

The bastard took my wife.

What if I killed his kid?

Look, this is no place to talk it over, is it?

It'll do.

I like it up here.

Look, now that won't solve anything.

That... That's no way out for a man like you, is it?

You're not a coward.

You're right.

I'll fight to the end.

Not like falling.

Come on.

Let's go down.

Come on.

I'm coming. I'm ready.

I know about this, you see.

I was in the jungle.

Are you alright? I don't know yet.

Are you alright?

Why didn't you tell me the truth right from the beginning?

I promised Lionel.

But after he killed himself... I didn't know what to do. I

thought... I don't know.

I suppose I thought he'd left a note which would explain everything, and then

Harry said... You were afraid.

Mr. Moore's okay?

Yeah, I think so.

I'm afraid you've been an accessory before, during and after an act of

I know.

It's... Dean's prison.

You realize that?

You think you'll be able to deal with prison?

Oh, I've been in prison of one sort or another for years.

We were well off once, years ago.

Pauline paid for your mother to go to Switzerland.

Yes.

And for the alterations to the house.

He was...

He'd been so generous. I... I know it was quite wrong.

Absolutely wrong, but I... Your mother will have to go to her home now.

Poor mother.

I only did it for...

Excuse me, sir.

The pathologists are right.

That's what a sodding awful life this is.

If they don't take Morse off this case in double quick time, we're going to

a new churchyard.

This is number five, isn't it?

Six. Really?

Must be something of a record for Oxford.

Want to look at him?

No, thanks. I've seen enough.

The face is all right.

Doesn't look much like his brother, does he?

What?

Swan Paul.

Simon Paulin.

Not much like the vicar at all.

That's not Simon Paulin.

What?

That's Harry Josephs.

See you tonight, babe.

Thank you.

Yeah,

apparently he had his hair cut very short, dyed it black.

Change of clothes.

Dark glasses.

Still sore, is it? Hard to swallow.

Good beer, this too, dammit.

So you're saying that they were all in on a conspiracy to kill Simon Paulan and

pass him off as Harry George?

Yes.

Paulan, Lionel Paulan, was at the end of his tether.

He'd already been driven out of one parish by his brother's slanders.

What slanders?

You don't want to believe everything you hear, Lewis.

Paulan wasn't interested in boys.

Not with your idea? He wasn't even interested in money, but he had it.

Lots of it.

And he told his favourite parishioners what his problem was.

Now, they all did want money.

Paul Morris, he wanted a run -off with Brenda Josephs and vice versa.

Ruth.

Miss Rawlinson.

She... Well, her mother was ill and...

And Harry Josephs, he wanted a new start.

Away from his wife, away from his debts.

away from people whispering about the collection.

And as he was a psychopath, he said to Paul, what's the problem?

I'll kill him.

I'll kill your brother.

And he did.

All the others had to do was to swear they were at a service that never took

place during which a church warden was murdered.

Only he wasn't.

And a man that nobody knew except the vicar was.

After it was all over,

Harry Joseph's hid in Miss Rawlinson's brand -new flat.

I think I'll be more comfortable at home tonight.

Come and finish your beer.

No, I'm off the beer.

I can't think why I... Never

read that, Lewis.

Waiting for Godot.

No, any good?

Oh, Lewis, waiting for Godot.

You should read it. It's a modern classic.

And it had the answer all the time.

How's that, sir?

It's about two tramps.

We had two tramps.

One went into St Oswald, another came out.

No, well, I still don't understand it. Why did they have to kill Simon Paul and

twice?

Miss Rawlinson will tell you that.

Go and take her statement and then get off home.

All right.

Good night, then, sir.

Good night.

Chastity and continence.

When did I ever have anything else?

Why did Paulan administer the morphine?

To make him unconscious, so we could change his clothes.

It was Harry's idea, and he seemed to know these things, how it's difficult to

change a dead man's clothes.

And Brenda was working at the Radcliffe.

She got hold of the morphine, you see, and... And you observed all this? The

poisoning, the undressing and dressing, the stabbing with the knife?

Oh, no.

I was in the Lady Chapel with Brenda.

Mrs. Joseph.

Then how did you know what happened?

Harry told me later.

I... I didn't want to know the details.

I just promised Lionel I'd say the body was Harry's, if anyone asked.

And they did ask.

Was that not a very wicked promise to make, Miss Rawlinson?

Yes.

But I was so sorry for Lionel. He'd been so kind and...

Harry... Harry...

Were you in love with Harry Josephs?

Even so, Miss Rawlinson, you must have known that it was a very...

dreadful thing that you and the others are doing.

We're all born in sin or I wouldn't be standing here today.

Come along, Mrs. Rawlinson.

Lunchtime.

Thank you, Ruth, but I don't really want any lunch today.

Oh, you mustn't be like that.

We all have our crosses to bear, you know.

Lionel Paulin was clever, but otherworldly. I think he thought that if

a knife in someone's back, that would be that.

But, of course, there's always a post -mortem after every suspicious death,

of course, we were bound to discover the morphine. And then you think Paulin

killed himself out of remorse?

Partly, perhaps, but mainly, I think, because he realised we were on to him.

That's not a very charitable view, Inspector.

I was there at the time, sir. And your view of Mr.

Josephs is still more uncharitable, I dare say, since he tried to kill you.

I try not to let my feelings influence my investigation, sir.

What, in your opinion, induced Josephs to murder the Morris's father and son

his own wife, Brenda?

Jealousy, sir.

Sexual jealousy.

With Lionel Paul and dead, Josephs felt free to take his revenge on the man and

woman who'd humiliated him.

The boy.

Well, he couldn't be allowed to live with his father dead.

It would have been the turn of Miss Rawlinson next.

A great many murders, all committed by the man we thought was the very first

victim.

I myself didn't realize his identity until I saw the tie he was proposing to

strangle Miss Rawlinson with.

Exhibit F?

Yes, sir.

It's a Royal Marine Commandos tie.

Joseph's had been in the Marines.

Thank you, Inspector.

Inspector, you heard the conversation between Josephson and my client before

attempted to murder her.

Yes, sir.

Did you, during the course of that conversation, hear anything which might

considered by the court to be mitigating evidence in the case against my client?

I did.

Will you tell the court what you heard?

I heard her tell him that she wanted no more to do with him and that she was

going to go to the police and make a full statement.

At which point he attacked her. Thank you, Inspector.

Eighteen months, not too bad with remission.

Final flyer. You'd be surprised.

I don't deserve it.

It'll be an open prison, I'm sure.

You're not listening to me.

an ulterior motive.

They do allow visitors in these places, you know.

I'll come along and see you sometime.