Original subtitles

Right, well, thank you, gentlemen. Good night.

Good night.

Muddy rain.

At least it's clean, Rain Master.

As far as we know.

Oh, damn it.

I left my papers at the lodge.

I'll catch you up.

Do you want this? No, thanks.

Right,

you can film me. It's just I've break my neck, maybe.

Why do I have to come out on a night like this?

You had your instructions.

Told you I won't do it.

I think you're gonna have to now.

Forgot something.

Damn nuisance, too much on my plate.

Well, carry on.

What's happened?

They're counting the votes. Did Julian Deer speak?

He never showed up.

Curious state of affairs.

Concussion.

My doctor tells me that tomorrow I should expect my legs to walk in

directions.

You must forgive me if my account is a little hazy.

This is your umbrella, sir.

I imagine, sir.

You imagine, sir? Was Dr. Teers identical?

Would you expect my, that is, the master's umbrella to display some

differentiating feature from that of a senior fellow's?

Perhaps you have some general interest in the taxonomy of umbrellas, Chief

Inspector. Taxonomy?

Sounds like stuffing, something.

Stuffed umbrellas?

No, Lewis, taxonomy is classification. The master was making a joke.

We only found one umbrella, sir.

I just want a clear picture of what happened.

Of course.

Forgive me, I'm babbling.

Blame the bump.

Blanche, one moment, would you?

At least I can babble.

Which is more than poor Julian can do.

Orden we to try the hospital again, Hithard? We'll be notified of any

No more details come to mind yet, sir.

We could use a better description of the attacker.

What with the rain and the dark.

I had an impression of wild eyes.

Made me think of a young Wittgenstein.

If that means anything to you. Before or after his Norwegian period, sir.

I was hoping to hear the debate myself. I was looking forward to Dr. Deer's

contribution.

A very great man.

I'd say rarely tempted to speak.

Such a pity. Is that my umbrella?

Well, I should know. I donned it myself near the fastening in 1983.

Rather a dying art, darling, wouldn't you say? And thrift is such an

unfashionable virtue.

Definitely, Matthews.

Do we make the proverbial noises now?

I'm sorry?

Well, aren't we supposed to say, would you like a drink, so you can say, not

while I'm on duty, then I provide tea instead?

Tea, you'd go down nicely. We don't have time, I'm afraid.

It looks as if you disturbed an attempted mugging tonight, sir.

I suppose an arrest, let alone an early arrest, would be too much to hope for.

I'll keep you informed of any developments, but there's so little to

of serious undermining of the police force, I know.

I sit on the appropriate government committee.

Still, I'm sure you'll do your best.

Who is your chief superintendent?

Mr Rennie, on this case, in the absence of Chief Superintendent Strange.

Good night, Chief Inspector.

Pardon me.

Oh, I ought to tell you, we're expecting a guest.

tomorrow for a family party, you see. I'd be grateful if you'd bear that in

when you're planning your inquiries.

I'll do my best.

What?

Oh, yes. Thank you.

Many thanks. It's certainly Matthew's.

Master's Lodge.

You just caught him.

It's for you, Chief Inspector.

Moose.

Thanks.

Yes, I'll get back on it.

Bad news?

Well, that complicates things a bit, sir.

I'm a death in it now.

College Porter thinks now he saw a youngish fella come dashing out this

Right sort of time. Description?

Vague.

But he says he'd know him again.

Pool of vomit just around that corner.

Sheltered by the wall so the rain didn't wash it away.

They were at a fellows meeting. It ran late. They were in a hurry.

They were going to take Beaufort Bath.

The master turned back at the archway to collect some papers from home.

We've got a pool of vomit and a lost umbrella, Mr Grey. Mean anything to you?

Vomit? What's new round here?

That bloke you mentioned.

You didn't happen to notice him puke first, did you? That corner?

No, he was on the move when I saw him.

A student?

Not one of those.

Been umbrella handed in either.

You don't get who did for him. Don't know who he was done for yet.

We're waiting for the post -mortem. Even if his heart gave out, he was still

done for. It makes a difference, though, Mr Grey, the charge, the sentence.

It's murder to me and everyone else at Beaufort.

Well, let's just see if you can't sharpen up the description you gave.

Sergeant Lewis.

Thank

you for coming.

Such short notice.

I thought some practice was necessary.

Before the funeral.

Right. Open the windows, will you?

All of them.

And the door.

Bud's Miserere.

Sing out our sorrow.

Let us be heard by everyone in college.

Hello? Yes?

Sylvia!

Oh, my dear, you're early, but how perfectly wonderful. I have a pupil, you

Please. It's all right, Blanche. We'll hug later.

Go back to her.

Very well.

It's him, actually.

There's been some sort of thing.

Dr. Deer.

Can't get anybody to say a wrong word about him.

So blummin' modest, I can't even get a profile.

He was modest.

You knew him, sir?

Only by reputation, not personally.

Who won the debate?

Hmm?

This house believes that environmental issues transcend party politics.

Carried by a small majority.

Dr. Deer would have been pleased.

Refused an entry in Who's Who.

Call it the Poet's Address Book, I find.

You read his books, eh?

Not all of them.

I read The Barren Planet.

I couldn't get through The Breath of Life.

How about this for an environment?

Oh, yeah.

Look after themselves, don't they?

What about that master's lodge last night? He's not short.

It's always been very rich, Beaufort.

Very rich.

Very scientific.

Very musical.

Message. Here we go.

This will be the post -mortem report.

distinguished visitor.

What does one say?

One could say hello, Master.

Hardly seems appropriate after all this time.

It'll do.

I suppose Master is what I call you.

That too will do.

Yes. We've grown out of Uncle Matthew, haven't we?

A whim of my wife's, as I remember.

Like the present occasion.

Oh, come now, Master.

You'll make me feel my attentions aren't welcome.

Hardly a promising start for an interview.

I mean, my wife saw my cooperation as a way of healing any conceivable breach

that might have been between you and my family. So, I comply.

Why the police here?

An unfortunate incident last night.

A senior fellow was attacked.

Lest your journalistic antennae begin to quiver, the story is, so to speak, old

news.

The local press have scooped you. Drink.

Hello, Sylvie.

I'm sorry?

It's Imogen, Sylvie.

Of course it is.

I'm sorry.

17 years is a long time.

Well, for me it seems, but not for you.

It's called a clothing allowance.

How are you?

Oh, ticking over, you know.

This is Ron, my husband.

Oh. That's something I haven't acquired along the way. Pleased to meet you.

I've heard a lot about you.

I even read yourself.

Good. Helped to keep the last decent Sunday in business.

And I want to hear about your business. What is it, horses?

Tables. Yes, off the Newbury Road.

It's nothing glamorous. We're just starting.

I'm so very, very glad you came back to us.

Thanks, Jake. That was a bonus in my working day. I didn't know you were back

from America.

No, I had this arrangement now. I spend one term a year at both, but the rest at

Princeton. A better class of mathematics at Princeton?

Better class of money.

And how about the coral thingy?

Ah, now, there's nothing quite like that pure, clear English sound, is there?

Not the way you produce it.

We must have a drink sometime.

Yes, well, I still do the Renaissance group when I'm here. We've missed you

recently, you and your useful baritone. Oh, the Renaissance group's too

demanding for me now. There's the job. It's a long house.

This, um... Julian's death would...

Will this mean long hours?

I shouldn't think so. We just got the post -mortem result.

We're winding it up.

Really?

Dr. Deer died of a heart attack.

Is that official?

It's what's on the death certificate.

The mugging was incidental. He'd have died anyway.

Three, six months.

Was he a particular friend of yours?

I loved him.

We weren't lovers.

I wasn't his style. Lots of people loved him.

He inspired them.

Let's just say he was an inspiration in my life, anyway.

I'm sorry.

This debate, he's got something to say, something new.

Disturbing.

Any idea what?

He'd written to me about it in America. There were hints.

He talked about feeling obliged to sound off in public, hoping I'd be there.

Were you?

Yes.

Yes, by the skin of my teeth. Just off the train I made it.

And he didn't.

Sudden death.

It's hard to take.

People...

tend to look for reasons.

Do they?

It's the intellectual muggers you have to watch for around here, Morse.

They're the ones who wouldn't have wanted him to speak.

He wouldn't care to elaborate, would he?

You know where to contact me?

Yes.

Mugging goes with drugs, often as not.

If it was mugging.

Yeah, just didn't ring any bells with a drugged voice.

Why, it's not the plate spray.

You've been busy.

He's got a bit of intrigue about it, this, hasn't he?

A pool of vomit now.

It wasn't your usual spewed -up undergraduate rubbish.

Lewis.

Oh, sorry, sir. I forget your stomach.

Oh, it was pastry, spinach and cheese, mostly.

Two kinds of cheese, as a matter of fact.

Didn't actually poke about a bit, did you?

No, no.

But I got a sample sent over to the lab while you went to hear that choir.

Now you tell me.

Brie and Dutch gelato.

Wholemeal pastry. Sort of a... What is it?

A quiche, probably.

How many people knew he had a bad heart?

Deliberately, you mean?

What's the motive?

Someone wanted to stop him speaking at the debate.

What was he going to say?

Well, it would help if we found out, wouldn't it, Lewis?

Let's go.

Are we sticking with it, then?

Not to convince Superintendent Rennie he thinks it's finished.

He should say so, shouldn't he, categorically? If he does, we've got a

time.

What makes you think undergraduates don't go into speciality cases?

Look, on the college menu.

Oh, that vomits in.

There was real ale in it, too.

Some of your fellows only took a look, Sergeant.

Yeah, well, I'm just doing a recheck.

Proper sell, this, isn't it?

Well, he was a real scholar, wasn't he?

What did he do with his earning?

Gave it all away, I expect.

Who gets all this stuff?

The books?

College, I suppose.

He had no relation.

I am not at ease with this machinery, please bear with me.

I resort to these methods because it seems wise to make some record of

tend to say in the union debate my contribution will be to all intents and

purposes a warning a statement i am forced to make in public even though i

deplore the necessity and i'm uncomfortable in that arena what i have

i believe the most grave and far -reaching implications i do not

three of the country's leading newspapers have refused to publish

from me on this topic

Our visitor has a gift.

Well, not tongues, exactly, but what would one say?

She facilitates.

She gives scope.

She popularizes, I suppose.

But then that's her job.

I wouldn't call the Sunday Review the most popular newspaper in the world.

Oh, you know about these things. Well, I recognize Sylvie Maxton.

All Sunday newspapers are anathema to me, I'm afraid.

You're not afraid for your reputation, master.

I'm sorry?

Sylvie Maxton's stock in trade is the expose, I believe.

Her interest in this occasion is in the type, simply.

The master of an Oxford college.

Do you have any idea of what Dr. Deer was intending to say at the debate?

No.

And he never made notes.

His lectures were the same, off the cuff.

And brilliant, of course, closely argued.

Not that he gave many, he preferred them enough.

Small groups.

So how was he persuaded to speak at the union debate?

Out of character, surely, the publicity.

He may have wished deliberately to engage a wider audience.

The subject was an environmental issue, was it not, close to his heart?

Do you think his statement would have been controversial?

Who knows?

Darling!

You were going to attend the debate yourself, sir.

May I ask if you'd have been likely to agree with Dr Deer's views?

Since I hadn't heard those particular views expressed, how can I think?

You went back to some papers.

Were they relevant?

They were simply some reflections on the issues involved.

Now, I'm sorry, I can't be of more help to you, Chief Inspector.

What is it I'm to do for this farce? They want you among the delphiniums,

darling.

Now, he'll decide to look gruesome, and I shan't be able to bear the results.

Beautiful garden, Mrs. Copley Barnes.

Isn't it indeed?

Of course, we're outrageously lucky in the fabulous Phil.

The fabulous Phil?

Phil Hopkirk, our gardener.

Well, not ours, of course, the college's.

And not theirs for long, because he's been seduced by Q, would you believe?

He's staying on to win the College Gardens Cup for Beaufort this year,

Touchwood.

Do you dibble and hoe, Chief Inspector?

I, uh, can't somehow see myself raising flowers.

A perfect lawn, perhaps. That would be a challenge.

Actually, I like to think we've given something back to Phil.

He's a widower.

His daughter's musical. I encourage... did encourage her.

She's gone on ahead to London to an aunt, so her schooling's not

Oh, what's this now, would you say?

Second post, Mrs. Copey -Bond.

Thank you, Greg. I'll take it.

What is it, Blanche?

Parcelmaster. Needs signing for.

I can't apart.

You?

I think it's another one.

Don't accept it.

Send it back now. Please, don't accept it.

Keep calm, Blanche. I must accept it.

Oh, thank you, Graham.

This is not the first of these outrages, these insults, Inspector.

One knows there are unbalanced people.

One hears, but one never really believes.

Is it a police match?

I don't think there's any cause for alarm.

What is it, Father?

It's all right. There's nothing to worry about.

Oh, yes, it is. I do fear it is.

I wish I could say otherwise, but I am afraid we have to prepare ourselves.

Then there's address 15 Beech Street, Highbury. False, false, like the others.

The last one cheating, Inspector. Oh, for heaven's sake, control yourself.

It's a hoax.

Someone playing tricks, that's all.

No name.

Were the others anonymous?

What's going on? You might well ask, Sylvia. There's no answer.

No conceivable explanation we can find.

Nothing we could...

So, the master of Beaufort gets hate mail.

Parcels. Nothing dangerous, just distressing.

And you're saying that there is some connection with the attack on Dr.

Deer? I'm saying I'd like to investigate further.

A mugging like that, unpremeditated, probably hit or missed off.

What are the chances, Morris, of nailing someone?

Not high, sir, in the ordinary course of things, I agree.

You see, what I want to avoid is you turning over a lot of stones just to see

what's underneath.

Sir? We all know your methods, Moss, and I'll grant you they've been effective,

sometimes.

The master of Beaufort, Copley Barnes, is on a police force policy committee.

Did you know that?

Yes, I did know that, sir.

And he reminded me. Where's your evidence for this connection?

I'm about to compile it, sir.

You ever been to Austria?

Only to Salzburg, sir.

For the festival.

Oh.

What kind of festival's that?

So there's nothing really for us to get excited about, is there not?

You better give us the gory details anyway.

Yeah.

I could.

I'm pretty sure we'll be on it for a bit, yeah?

Ah, not that long, actually.

No, it could be just three days.

OK, thanks. Ta -ra.

Sheep's blood on the skull.

Well, lamb's blood, as a matter of fact.

Squeezed from the Sunday joint, maybe.

At least Rennie gave us a bit of leeway.

Only till the ranks closed, Lewis.

Yes, terrible.

Terrible. Horrendous. Oh, terrible.

Two puzzles, you said, before this one.

Yes. Two D -sharp, Lawrence, if you please.

They...

They came through the post from London sorting offices.

Different offices.

This first one was registered in Holborn. They came from Islington, I

and Camden.

Matthew would remember. I'm so sorry you missed him. He... He had to go out.

The snakeskin came from Camden.

Snakeskin?

A dried skin of an under.

Shriveled.

I went quite dippy for a moment when I saw it.

Matthew was remarkably steady.

Though even he... I'm in the second one.

Well, the smell was around for days, the fitting room.

I had to see my pupils in their own homes, which is never satisfactory

the instrument's always inferior.

The smell, Mrs Copley -Barnes.

Fish.

Stinking fish.

A plastic pail, would you believe, packed with shellfish, seaweed, the sort

things you'd scoop out of a rock pool, very carefully sealed, and then...

And it was open.

We're dealing with a fanatic here.

Someone with an axe to grind.

Oh, no.

No, no, Matthew said it was almost certainly a disaffected student.

A failure, perhaps. Even a failed first, they're the most bitter of all, is the

rule.

Your pupil's doing very well.

Oh, you're musical, Chief Inspector.

Rather than horticultural?

I listen. I know your reputation as a teacher.

Really?

You think it's fearfully exclusive? I am very choosy, I suppose, but then I

don't care to waste my time on anything less than real potential.

I bought my nippers one of them electronic keyboard.

Parcels of... what?

Natural products.

Why?

My husband thinks they might relate to specific examination questions.

They could as easily relate to the motion of the union the other night.

Well, you don't imagine that they might have something to do with what happened

to Julian?

It's a possible line of inquiry.

You will keep it informed?

Of course.

Oh, um, your son -in -law, Mr. Garrett?

Ronald.

What about him?

He seemed concerned yesterday to play down the significance of these things.

Oh, for my daughter's benefit, I expect.

That's his way.

Protective. She's very highly strong.

Have they been married long?

Oh, it's four or five years.

He's very much Imogen's choice.

By that, I mean that we, Matthew and I... Thank you.

I'll be in touch.

Where's Imogen?

Inside.

Did you say he was coming?

I'm going to pretend to interview her.

We'll talk about old times instead.

She doesn't want to see you.

I'm sorry?

She's not well.

She says to apologise.

Was it the past or yesterday?

What did you make of it?

Someone's got a grudge against him, I suppose.

Not surprising.

He offends a lot of people.

Give her these, will you?

They're from the garden.

Courtesy of the fabulous Phil.

And carried hither by the commendable Sylvia.

Is that their name for you?

Who is Sylvia? What is she that all us Waynes commend her?

I'm the reliable Ron, I believe.

And are you reliable?

I was never very commendable.

Must be hard work here.

We like it.

Couldn't take a horse out, could I?

Do you ride?

I learned with Imogen when we were ten.

You could come with me.

Fill me in on a few things.

Go on.

I used to come here for picnics once.

Always taken up by the Copley Barneses.

Before my father died.

They didn't have picnics, did they?

No.

They had expeditions to centres of cultural interest.

Does Imogen talk about the old times?

Not much.

What happened to her?

What do you mean, what happened?

Well, she's different.

She used to be, oh, different, energetic, funny.

I couldn't keep up.

I went to London. She stayed on in Oxford.

She didn't get her degree, did she? No.

She had a breakdown, as I'm sure you know from your research.

How did her parents react to that?

Overjoyed. Look, I can't spare the time for this. Walk on.

I'm sorry, but she was important to me growing up.

They widened my horizons. The whole family did.

It matters that she's not happy.

You happy?

Well, I haven't broken down.

I don't react to shock the way she does.

Got me to look after her now.

Well, she's lucky. I'm lucky.

As the parents never tire of pointing out.

You ever wanted to give marriage a go?

I couldn't play the course.

Did?

I'm fine as I am.

We won't, kids.

Someday.

It's all going in your piece.

Who do you think I am?

I don't know.

I only know the kind of thing you write.

Walk on.

Where are you going?

I just want to wash my hands.

There's a thing in the tack room.

She doesn't want to see you. I just want to say goodbye.

Why can't you leave her alone?

She was my friend, for God's sake. You don't own her.

If I'd known in time, we might have come together.

Have you come to see Imogen?

There's been a small emergency.

She telephoned. All's well now.

I should confer briefly with my son -in -law.

Since you're back.

I want to see her.

That's impossible, I'm afraid.

I think we should both be on our way.

Now, if you lift.

I have a hired car.

Thank you.

Tell Blanche you won't be home for dinner.

Was she famous then, Mrs. Seabee?

Yeah, she was quite a performer in her day.

Not world -class, but decent third programme.

Never made it to the top.

Maybe she lacked concentration.

She doesn't seem all there somehow.

The master's absent -minded wife.

Takes years to cultivate that for us.

An essential requirement for the job.

Do you think they could be connected, these parcels, with the attack on Dr. D?

Why not?

What have we got, Lewis?

A scientific philosopher, Dr. Julian Deer.

Virtual recluse, keen on environmental issues, anxious to speak in a university

debate. Straight on the nerve, sir, with his heart trouble.

Right, so doing it must matter to him, but no notes, no record of what he was

going to say.

And then we have a distinguished chemist, the master, Copley Barn, who's

pestered by a postal cadet who's trying to tell him something about death and

decay.

Two sorts of attack.

On the same theme, like.

You think Rennie will go for that?

Shouldn't think so.

Maybe he put it on tape.

What? If he wanted to make a record of what he was going to say, he might have

spoken it onto a tape.

There was a recorder in his room.

All his tapes were missing.

Yes. So maybe someone knows what he's going to say.

You've just earned yourself a drink, Lewis.

Oh, it's lentil soup in the canteen today.

Too warm for lentil soup.

That's better.

Still

on

the trail, eh, Maude?

Or have you come to sign up with the Renaissance group after all?

Still on the trail, Jake.

I've just been going through Dr. Deer things again.

Oh, anything I can do to help. You can tell me who might have had a key to his

rooms. Did you, for instance?

Oh, no.

That's a very big naughty round here, as you may remember from your Oxford days.

Did you?

No.

I think there's something missing from his collection of tapes.

Is there some other way in, apart from the staircase?

No, no, no.

Well, I suppose Julian could have lent somebody a key. He was a true anarchist,

after all.

Only kept to the college rules when they suited his view of the world.

Mayor.

Well, thank God you're dressed.

We wouldn't want to shock the chief inspector too much, would we?

You can go now.

How very embarrassing.

Not to me.

I never could resist the charm of casual acquaintance.

Speaking as a professional, I tend to sound the standard warning about casual

acquaintance these days.

Oh, I absorbed all the warnings long ago, but then, um... Health and

were ever my watchwords.

Look... I've got a tutorial in ten minutes. Perhaps we should get together

that drink then.

That first morning you seemed to suggest that all was not well at Beaufort.

Something about intellectual mugging.

Well, I was upset.

What do I know? I'm away two thirds of the time.

Anything?

Nothing.

Nobody's saying anything. Everyone's scared.

The port is not saying much either.

Hates the master's guts.

He's got this college loyalty.

He did say the place got a bit richer when Copley Barnes was investment

Did he?

Gave their industrial shareholding a big boost in the late 70s.

Brought into Corby International.

They fund his research, too.

Corby.

Chemical, organic range and biosystem.

Yes, I know what it stands for, Lewis.

Corby was the victim of one of Sylvie Maxton's journalistic inquiries

if I'm not mistaken.

Making a big thing of the funeral.

The gardener's on overtime.

Did you see a young man leave by this door just now?

Nope. Only a couple of girls came out of here while I've been here.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

You know, there's a bloke down at headquarters who remembers her when she

here, Oxford.

Who? Sylvie Maxton.

She's got a bit of form, you know.

She what?

She's got form.

Been quite a naughty girl, actually.

Drinking, creating a disturbance.

Beyond parental control, apparently.

She got a year's probation.

How can the worldly pay adequate tribute to one whose unworldliness was his most

admirable quality?

How can those of us whose ideals were compromised early appropriately praise

whose ideals remained pure and uncontaminated by the values of the

world?

Perfect clock, September.

Is that moving, really?

The master reserved you a seat, Miss Mackey.

I twisted his arm.

Well, Blanche's, actually.

He's being a prodigal, I can't get away with anything.

With the time being.

I see David Naylor's here.

Naylor? Head of Corby International.

Are you surprised?

He's hardly a friend of Julian Deer's, would he?

Excuse me.

Please. Excuse me.

Thank you.

Please, excuse me.

Out of the way!

Just a minute, you!

This is a man -shooting!

I said I'd know anything.

What have you got again?

Time?

Because it is only a matter of time, you know.

And you'll regret wasting it with me.

Is this your usual reading matter, woman?

Woman's world?

You've probably gathered Jake Normington is a friend of mine. He'll be brought

in to identify you, or at least tell us what he knows.

Where he met you, where there is someone who'll give you a name.

How many cruising dons have picked you up off the street?

It wouldn't be difficult to bring in one or two of the old familiar importuners.

Less discreet than Normington.

Yes, Lewis!

Have you got a minute?

Where did this come from?

A house in Woolsey Street.

Completely burnt out.

PC Hodgson had to go down there just after he saw our suspect bought in.

McGovern, the woman next door thinks.

Just him and his mother. They've not lived there long. Didn't see much of the

neighbours. The mother's gone in the hospital, apparently.

We're checking there.

I want to see everything on Copley, Barnes and Deer.

And Jake Normington, too, for that matter. Has anybody got a hold of

yet? Your music, my friend.

Still trying.

I'm going to visit Mrs. McGovern in hospital.

What about him?

He'll keep, Lewis.

He's worried once a day.

Good evening.

You've got a patient, Mrs McGovern?

Visiting's over, I'm afraid.

I've got an important message from her son.

He's not been with you?

Not since yesterday.

GR's been fine?

Doug asked for him, yes.

Do you mind if I sit and wait?

Mrs. McGovern.

I want you to give your

son a message from your spring.

Please. Chief Inspector Morse, you have a patient, Mrs.

McGovern? Yes.

She's got a visitor with her.

Could I have a word, sir?

your bills because there are few to be paid now.

Intimidation with violence.

You must be quite exhausted, Matthew.

A funeral?

An arrest?

Imagine.

Did you find it difficult identifying the man? I didn't identify him.

Not categorically. It wasn't possible.

We're off, then.

We've got a musical ride to see to tomorrow.

I'm meant to be busy with the crepe paper. You've made a terrific go of all

that.

The business, I mean.

Oh, do you really think so?

It's Ron mostly.

He likes taking on wrecks. Oh, no, Imogen, you've always done your share.

been most impressed.

You've accomplished a great deal since you had your... Since you changed

Imogen's always been accomplished.

Do you remember this?

Oh,

yes, darling, do.

Do you think you could?

She never practices, I'm afraid. Nor do I. But this is second nature. Come on,

Emo. Must we have this plunge into nostalgia?

But there were such happy times, weren't there? Such harmony. Come on, Emo,

let's give them our turn.

Oh, that was great.

What's wrong?

That's enough.

Let's go home.

Of course.

You probably just forgot one gets tires and blanks occasionally.

Come on, Emma.

It's your time to build anyway.

Oh, yes.

The jarring of Emma.

Bye, Father.

Don't worry.

Everything will soon be back to normal.

She is a bit jarring, isn't she?

Whose fault is that?

Why don't you be more explicit?

Since you appear to have been tempted out of your usual reticence.

What exactly is this fault?

I think all you have to worry about is the way I speak.

Thank you.

Well, luckily, I don't have a grating local accent these days. Oh, Sylvia, you

have a beautiful speaking voice.

Yes. Well, we worked on it, didn't we, Blanche?

Is your, what will one call it, your brief, your assignment almost complete?

I fear my ego will never recover from all this attention.

I suspect your ego is proof against most things, Master.

I should be staying on a couple of extra days, as a matter of fact.

I wonder if that would be convenient.

In Oxford?

Not necessarily here. With Imogen, maybe.

Is she up to visitors?

It might be better if you... I'll consult the diary.

I'm thinking of covering this gardening competition.

If you really think Beaufort's going to win, Beaufort's in the fabulous film.

Oh, we shall certainly win. I've taken the measure of the opposition.

The visuals seem almost too good to miss.

Shall I clear away?

Mrs. Walsh might well choose to feel victimized in the morning if I don't.

Matthew?

I have to get out, Morton.

I'm leaving this cesspool. That's as far as my courage will take me.

Not very far, you might think.

But at least I'm not staying to be submerged like the rest of them.

Go easy on Mick McGovern.

Trust him.

He's a neurotic, but not a liar, and he'll talk when he can.

Although you may be hard put to distinguish truth from conspiracy

letting my fellowship go.

I'm off to spend all my time with students who can't even begin to

Oxford irony.

They think it's hostile.

Still, some of them love Renaissance music as much as you do.

What do you reckon?

I reckon we may as well give up now.

We all want to keep our jobs.

We're not all engaged in a high -minded pursuit of the truth.

Not high -minded, perhaps.

But we want to know, don't we?

Yes, Lewis, we have that in common.

Policemen and academics, we want to know.

The difference is that we'd be sacked for withholding information.

Now, tell me how far you got looking into the college investments.

Nothing doing.

I don't have the rank.

Don't you, Lewis?

I didn't go to Oxford, see?

Well, I don't have the rank either.

Why don't you ask Mr Rennie? Perhaps he has the rank.

I think there's a tie -up with McGovern.

He's a systems analyst out at work.

The DHSS have been pushing him.

There's hundreds of jobs in his field.

He has a doctor's note for his nerves, though.

And his last job was with soil scanning.

Soil scan?

Yes.

Agricultural chemicals and that.

Fertilisers. A subsidiary of Corby International.

Yes, that's right.

There. Isn't that nice?

Beaufort is involved with the parent company.

It's right there, and we can't get at it.

So why bother to try?

I mean, everyone's happy. No one's been murdered.

What was I doing running through a hospital after a hired, heavy waste of

effort?

And you reckon Normington's got the tape?

What do you think he'll do with it? Textual analysis for his American

I expect.

I could do a bit of work on soils, Cap.

Have another look at the stuff from the fire. Have another look at my glass

first.

It's a bit early for a second, isn't it, sir?

We still haven't fathomed the umbrella.

Nor the pool of vomit. What a good idea, Lewis.

The thicked -up quiche.

Do fathom that.

Why don't you?

I'll see you later, then, sir.

There you are.

Thank you very much.

Did I say I wouldn't be home for lunch?

You said an appointment at 12 13

I

thought

it would interact you

What is it?

It's a printed code from the bottom edge of a poster.

What kind of a poster?

Greenpeace, would you believe?

You're certain?

I couldn't be surer.

Well, good work, Lewis.

There was some other stuff like that around the house.

A couple of books, magazines.

I suppose most of the stuff would have been burnt, though, in his room.

All right, that's McGovern.

We know he's interested in ecological matters, and he used to work for soil

scan. Well, he could have been, what, blowing the whistle, couldn't he?

Possible.

Well, why would he be knocking down a bloke that would have been on his side?

Maybe he got the wrong man.

He wasn't. He got the wrong man. It was dark. It was raining.

Brilliant.

I bet he had a bad stomach and all.

McGovern, sensitive bloke like him. Yes, thank you, Lord. And he'll have fetched

up his ecological vegetarian supper after just around the corner.

Oh, sorry, sir.

You reckon he was out to get the master?

Or possibly he was out to get Corby International through the master.

No, no, no, no.

No, it still doesn't.

Has Chief Superintendent Rennie been informed?

In that case, they will be there in a few minutes.

We've had a call from Mrs. Copley -Barnes. It seems we're off again.

Mrs. McGovern.

I'm sorry.

I couldn't contact her.

Where is she?

In the stable.

What happened?

She had a bad night and then somebody called us.

Imogen?

Imogen? It's mummy, darling.

It's all right.

I'm here now, Imogen.

Unlock the door, darling, and come out, please.

Quite a display, Mr. Hopkirk.

Yeah, not bad.

Not

as

off -putting as a sheep's car, I suppose.

It's addressed to the master, like the last one. Has he seen it?

Nope.

Blanche would sooner he didn't.

She doesn't want him bothered.

We'll have to know if inquiries are to go on.

Exactly.

Her idea is that you just log it, or whatever it is you do, and then do

unless another real abomination arrives.

I can't just log it.

She made the complaint. She should be here to give details. That's what I

She wasn't even going to call you.

She asked my opinion.

You insisted?

You said you wanted to be informed.

You don't think the master should be spared the bother? No, I don't. Why

he?

You tell me.

I'm sorry?

Why the master shouldn't be protected.

Are you suggesting your inquiries be compromised because he has to be told

something he'd rather not know?

No, no. I mean in larger terms. In terms, say, that might affect the slant

this piece you're writing about him.

I haven't decided on the slant yet.

Well.

What's his record on, um... for example, environmental matters?

As deplorable as some of his associates?

David Naylor, for instance?

We shall have to see, shall we?

My editor wants a series on men of power and influence.

The master of an Oxford college is an obvious choice.

What do you make of his son -in -law?

What? His son -in -law, he isn't an obvious choice for the master's

he? Ron, he's Imogen's little rebellion.

A different kind of rebellion from yours.

I don't know what you mean.

We have a file on you, Miss Maxton, in headquarters.

Are you listening?

Are you listening, Mummy?

Yes, darling, I'm listening. You've got to get rid of her.

You've got to get her away.

Tell her to go.

She's evil. Do you understand?

I don't know what you're talking about, darling.

We were getting on so well. It was like the old days.

I grew up, that's all.

I resented being Imogen's paid companion.

Which is what I was, in effect.

Blanche's second child.

After school.

Most weekends.

Every holiday.

I was destined for an Oxford scholarship.

But my mother became ill.

And I discovered gin and tonic.

And boys.

And smashing the occasional shop window.

I'm a good girl now, though.

Promise?

The Copley Barnes years.

Touching, aren't they?

They seem idyllic.

They were, in a way.

Only I didn't get the best out of them.

Rather like learning this.

For the fingering.

And not knowing till much later what it meant.

What did I tell you?

I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.

There's been a message, sir.

It's urgent.

What is it? From the hospital.

McGovern's mother. She's dying.

Tell him to get him out there fast.

With an escort.

Sorry, Mr. McGowan.

Now I'll tell you.

It was 1987.

I'd worked for Soilscan about a year.

They'd been testing this stuff known as EK4 over... Well, I don't remember.

Maybe... Well, say, since the beginning of the 80s.

On a few targeted farms in Norfolk.

And they realized they'd got a winner.

There'd never been a fertilizer like it. High crop yields, clean soil,

everything.

There were memos flying around predicting the end of third world famine

turn of the century.

There was government money, government approval.

You handled them, the memos?

Well, they were common knowledge.

You see, I dealt with the figures from the test, and you couldn't argue with

them.

And then it all started to go wrong.

We are so very sorry.

My instinct last night was quite right. I was mistaken, Sylvia.

I don't know what got into my head.

We have guests arriving.

Do you see? Very distinguished guests.

I thought I was a distinguished guest.

So, I'm afraid we need your room.

I don't apologize.

I was leaving anyway.

Had you thought of going to Imogen? I fear...

She couldn't cope. I'll be at the Randall for two nights.

It's not the first time I've fallen out of favor, is it, Blanche?

Fallen out?

What on earth do you mean?

There's no question.

Um, I must own to second thoughts about this newspaper venture.

It was, after all, my wife's idea.

Too bad, Master.

I shall write my observations with or without your approval.

And it's Sylvie, Blanche.

Not Sylvia.

Sylvie was what my mother called me. It's the name I write under.

It's Sylvie now.

Sylvia was then.

Cancer.

Yes, cancer.

It showed up first in cattle that grazed adjacent fields. It got cereal in their

feed. Then there was the stuff about people.

What stuff?

There were two bread chains.

Bakeries that used flour from treated wheat.

It was the last stage of the trial. Soil scans were about to go public.

Then some bright QEP started asking questions about the local incidence of

tumours in children.

Your mother had cancer.

She just died, for Christ's sake. You were obsessed with cancer, McGovern.

Yeah, sure. If you mean I didn't want anyone else suffering like she did.

At least not without some accountability.

It happens all the time.

A mistake, people suffer.

I'm not saying it was deliberate.

But it happened, and nobody would admit it.

So you told Julian Deer?

Well, I'd read his books.

He was... Well, you know, you'd read his books too, Jake said. Never mind, Jake.

So you gave Dr. Deer information you'd handled in the computer department.

And other stuff. Stuff I photocopied when I saw what was going on.

Then I left. I got the shakes a bit. So why did you hit Deere in Beaufort Park?

I didn't.

I keep telling you, he'd been hit when I got there.

Chief Superintendent Rennie would like to see you, sir.

Doesn't he know I'm interviewing?

Right away, sir.

Hello, Amanda.

I thought you were in London.

Are you back for a few days?

We must have a lesson.

I found that little Mendelsohn piece I'd like you to try.

Oh, Phil, I wish you'd told me Amanda was going to be home.

I do hope she's managed to keep up her practice.

She's so very talented.

Well, goodbye, Amanda.

Goodbye.

No, well, I take your point, Morse. Indeed, I take all of your point. I

McGovern's stories.

Yes, well, maybe you do, but... When I have time, I'll go through the books and

I'll identify the man that gave me the slip in the hospital. Look.

You will have a chance to do my governor a bit of good in the witness box. First

he'll get bail, then he'll get off. You see to it that there's reasonable doubt.

Beaufort College has very large interest and shareholdings in Corby

International and its subsidiary companies. You don't know the size of

holdings. I don't know precisely, sir, because they're storming.

I do know that the Corby representative among the college's advisors... Well,

there's nothing unusual in that these days, with business subsidizing the

universities. No, no, Moss.

You stay out of Beaufort.

I'm sorry.

We're not talking about big -time crime, for God's sake.

We're talking about a cover -up.

A cover -up of scientific data that might... The fertilizer, whatever it is,

been withdrawn.

Even McGovern says so.

If new evidence comes to light, the right department will deal with it.

It's not for us.

If McGovern is telling the truth, Dr.

Deere's attacker is walking around free.

You don't find it strange, sir, that the Master sent Dr.

Deere ahead of him into Beaufort Path?

What an extraordinary imagination you have, Mark.

Maybe you should give it a rest.

Why don't you take that holiday soon?

You have some leave, don't you?

You're getting off, McGovern, in a manner of speaking.

Get in.

What? Get in and keep down.

I'm putting my job on the line over this, McGovern. I want the whole story.

are discussed and made the basis of a sterner policy.

It might have helped if I'd heard this before, Jake.

Sorry, I have to keep my career out of the dirt.

I could do you for obstruction.

You want me to send you the tape?

No, don't bother.

I don't think anyone will want to hear it somehow.

for him here.

Yeah.

Julian told me to go to him if things got rough.

He said we'd get on.

Is that what you'll do? Join him? I will if I survive.

Let's not get melodramatic. Who's being melodramatic?

Who burned my house down?

Who had you taken off the case, Inspector Moore?

Someone who could say words in high places.

Someone who damned if he let your lot see the extent of the college's

investments in Corby. No one is going to kill you. You're not important enough.

What did they have on you?

What were they going to tell your mother?

I did some posing for magazines.

Years ago.

I was broke.

Hard stuff, you mean?

She wouldn't have understood.

I mean, she knew about me, but that kind of thing.

I didn't want her to die with it on her mind.

You were supposed to confront Julian, dear, and tell him you'd given him false

information about the soil scan because you had a grudge against them for not

promoting you. Yes.

Only someone had got to him first.

Well, I thought I was being set up for a murder.

When Copley Barnes appeared, I clouted him and ran.

Tell me, what did you hope to achieve with the parcels?

Parcels? The ecological statements in the post to the master.

The dried snake skin, was it? The sheep's head and the blood, the green

The what?

Me.

No, not you, obviously.

Someone else.

Thank you.

What? I hope you'll let me finish this, sir, because it'll probably get you mad.

What is it, Lewis?

I'm in this pub, sir.

I've been checking pubs off my own bat.

And they've got this speciality quiche on the menu.

Cheese.

Green dolce lava, as it happens.

Lewis.

No, listen, sir.

You know who's a regular here?

Phil Hopkirk, the gardener.

The barman says he was in here earlier. the night that Dr. D got attacked.

Getting a real skinful.

What do you want to do, Lewis? We're off the case.

Well, I could go and see him in the morning, sir. But on your own

against orders.

I'm just curious, sir.

I mean, it was me that got the vomit analyzed.

Do it, if it'll get it out of your system.

Can I have the keys?

Sure? Yes, I'm sure.

Do I stay?

I want to see your daddy.

Detective Sergeant Lewis.

Thames Valley Police.

Is it about her not being at school?

I don't know anything about it, I'm afraid. I just did a bit of

No, I came to see her dad. I told him we shouldn't keep her off.

Where is Mr Hopkirk?

Oh, he left early. Some competition or other.

Is that his umbrella?

Come on, if I take a look?

I'd like to speak to your wife, Mr. Garrett.

She's not here. Where is she?

In at the Randolph, seeing Sylvie. When did she leave?

About 20 minutes ago.

Maxim!

He had it coming.

Someone had to do it sometime.

I would have called you.

I was going to call you.

Morse. Lewis there?

Find him. Tell him to come to Beaufort College.

The master's lodge.

As soon as he can.

Thanks.

Where's Mrs.

Copley -Barnes?

Friday.

It'll be organ practice in the chapel.

Same old routine, year in, year out.

Tell me about the holidays at the seaside.

It was kind of them to invite me.

What did you find on the beach?

Starfish?

Snake? Was there a sheep's head?

Trust me to spoil it.

How did you spoil it, Suzy?

There was a snake on the rock.

I screamed.

I made him put his arms around me.

You were frightened. You were just a little girl. I was a big girl.

I was 11.

I was a flirt.

Is that what he told you?

Yeah.

It was hot.

I couldn't breathe.

There was something buried in the sand. Something with horns.

Oh, through the eyes. I looked at it. I just... I just kept

looking at it.

I looked at it the whole time. I didn't look at him once.

The, um... The green ribbon.

I left a green ribbon in his bed once.

Imogen found it.

I don't think she knew what it meant.

She couldn't have, could she? Not his own daughter.

Why did you send the parcels?

I wanted him to remember.

All the times he'd made me be nice to him.

Cupboards.

Bathrooms.

In here once.

Hopcock? Oh, have you seen her?

She's so sweet, so clean.

Oh, Phil, I could have helped him.

We had a case. Why couldn't he wait?

Where's Mrs.

Copley Barnes?

You'd better bring my father.

Your father's dead, Mrs. Garrett.

I couldn't allow him to live, do you see?

He didn't deserve it, and neither do I.

There was a serpent in our house, coiled around the foundations.

Mother!

Mother, stay with me, please. I can't, darling.

There's the dignity of the college to consider as well, you see.

There's never only one bad parent.

The other must be bad too, if only by default.

It's my fault.

I knew about it.

I knew all about them.

That's why he didn't like me.

I should have said.

It's my fault.

No, no, darling.

I'm the one to blame.

Please, Amanda, I have to die.

It's not a matter of guilt, is it?

It's a matter of responsibility.

There are two women with their lives disfigured.

And now a young girl.

How many others?

There's only one way to help.

Let it all come out.

Nothing hushed up this time.

You have to live.

You have no choice.

Would you sing, please?

Do you mind, Chief Inspector?

Music does put heart into one. Don't you agree?

Hits out blindly at someone he thinks is the master.

Finds he's killed Dr. Deer instead.

Why couldn't he have come to us about his kid?

They earned him.

He had no power.

He didn't belong to the club.

If not a soul would have believed him.

Serpent. Was that it?

Did a bit of curling around here and all.

The infernal serpent.

He it was whose guile stirred up with envy and revenge.

Deceived as the mother of mankind.

Milton. Paradise lost.