Original subtitles

Thank you.

Often the drop didn't work right, and the hangman had to yank on the feet of

condemned in order to get a result.

When was the last one, Dr. Lambeau? The last public execution in Oxford was in

1863. The condemned man was... Noah Austin.

Killed his girlfriend's father.

Right.

But the most famous public execution was in 1860 when they hanged the Oxford

Canal murderers. There were special trains from London and 10 ,000 people

outside Oxford Jail.

It's more than they get for Oxford United.

The Oxford Canal murder.

The victim was a respectable married woman named Joanna Frank, who was

travelling from Coventry to London to join her husband via the Oxford Canal

aboard this Pickford flyboat, the Barbara Bray.

Early on one morning in June 1859, it passed Prince's Lock, near here.

Minutes later, her body was found in the water. A police investigation followed.

Remember, by now, the detective force had been founded and their skills were

legendary. Charles Dickens loved to go crime hunting with the detective force

Scotland Yard.

The prosecution proved that Joanna Franks had been assaulted and killed by

boat's crew, who were tried at Oxford Assize. And in 1860, two of them,

Oldfield and Musson, Dwan, on the public gallery.

No, thank you, Robert.

Are you quite all right?

Ah, how distinguished, Speaker.

Very erudite, Dr. Van Boren.

Well, thank you.

I hardly put my forebears to the test.

Yes, I agree.

But if somebody were trying the case today, they'd come to the same

It wasn't open in that case.

There's no such thing, Dr. Van Boren. They didn't have our forensic science in

those days, did they? Victorian detectives may not have had computers in

science, but they knew a great deal about human nature.

Meaning we don't? No, Morse. Oh, you're Morse. I wanted to talk to you.

Did you, uh... Excuse me, Dr. Van Boren.

Was there something I said?

I doubt it.

Pardon me, Doctor.

Oh,

Lord.

Lord.

Oh, my God.

Right.

Right, Mr. North.

Right.

Come along, Mr.

Marshall.

You're very ill. I hope you realize that. And I need you fast, I believe.

What is wrong with her?

I can't tell you yet. The consultant will do a full examination in the

Now, off you go, Mr Morse.

Libby's in love.

You drink a lot, Mr. Horse?

More.

Not much.

I like a glass of beer.

And how many of those a week?

A week?

Make it easier, then. How many a day?

Two or three. Spirits?

Sometimes treat myself to a bottle of scotch. And how long does it last?

Depends how big the bottle is.

In this job, there are two statistics we always discount. The sexual prowess of

people with diabetes and the booze intake of the middle classes. However,

can't discount what's going on in your abdomen.

You said liver.

That too, if you don't reduce the booze.

You've really overdone it, haven't you?

Have I? What's the matter with me, Doctor?

At best, you've got a peptic ulcer that's decided to burst out bleeding. At

worst, you've got a cancerous ulcer that needs some serious surgery.

We had a quick look last night, but now I need to do a more thorough endoscopy

and take a biopsy. Nurse.

See

your

coffee, Mr Greenaway?

Gin and vomit, please.

Ice and lemon? No ice.

It foils the gin.

Doctor, I had that.

Now they're cutting me up on Friday.

You know the relative? He told us he didn't have any.

Actually, I'm a doctor.

Oh.

Right, you know then.

Hi there.

Well, you certainly went to a lot of trouble to avoid our conference.

Feeling better?

Dr. Van Boren. No, I'm not.

I thought I'd come and visit you. I said I was a doctor.

You are.

Why did you think you'd come and see me?

I brought you a book.

I thought if you were going to be in here a while, you might need a little

reading matter.

Criminal Detection in the Victorian Period by Millicent Van Boren.

You are kind.

The Oxford Canal murder.

Ah, the open and shut case.

Read that and learn that it was.

And are you flying home now?

Oh, no, not yet. I'm on a Fulbright. I'm writing my next book.

The Institute of Criminology has some really great archives here.

That's because Oxford has too many scholars and not enough policemen.

Right.

Which is why I was curious to meet you.

Excuse me.

Who is that with Mr. Moore?

She says she's his doctor.

No, she isn't.

Are you a friend of his?

Hi. Millie Van Buren.

Boston University.

He promised he'd check out my research.

Isn't he sweet?

Isn't he just?

Why on earth didn't you let me know?

I'd have come right away, you know that.

You were still in Carlisle. How's your mother?

Much better, thanks.

I go away for a month and you do this.

So, how are you?

It's a case of mistaken identity.

Sure, looks like it.

What are they doing to you?

I'm down for an internal examination, an endoscopy.

And then they decide whether to carve me up.

I'm sorry, Morse.

You must be worried sick.

I am.

But they are looking after you properly, are they?

Yes. There's a beautiful black nurse called Fiona.

I saw her. The doctor's a dream.

Monster's got a sister called Nessie. I met her.

If you come from a round -lock mess, isn't it?

Bottom of it, I should think.

You know what this means, don't you?

I've no doubt they're already planning to replace me.

Don't be ridiculous.

I've seen it coming.

But you're their best detective.

I was.

Look at me now.

Come on, Ward.

Oh, if it's what they're made.

I need his buttocks.

I'm sorry.

Injection, if you'd be so kind.

Right.

And I've got two of them now.

Lewis, he's on his inspector's course.

And now Morse is in hospital.

And we've a big drugs bust in Cowley. Sorry, sir.

Constable, don't go away.

I'm shorthanded to start with.

Now, Morse's illness has left me completely...

The wrong person?

The wrong... No, I... I've got quite enough probateness.

What I need is some experience, Detective Constable Conlon.

Oh, I see.

Well, if you could... Hello?

Oh, really.

Tershaw, you do not interrupt me when I'm talking to the Chief Constable.

Just trying to be useful, sir. Then be useful. I want a bunch of grapes.

And a paperback novel.

Of course, sir.

Grapes. Would that be green or purple?

Oh, green.

No, no, purple.

Half a pound? A pound?

Oh, use your initiative, man.

You're the fast -track graduate.

Early on the morning of June 22nd, 1859, the body of a young woman was found in

Prince's Cut, a basin on the Coventry to Oxford Canal.

As the boatman Philip Tomes

would say in evidence later, he had moored his narrowboat up Canal from

when he noticed something in the water, a woman's blue gown.

Hey, mister!

Get down here!

Right, what?

Are you dead?

Now, sir, you're an intelligent man. I'm sure you can assist me.

I've got this long tube here.

I need you to swallow.

Why? So I can look in your stomach and take the biopsy.

If you can cooperate, I won't need to use sedation. And if I can't? You'll

all the fun and won't remember a thing.

How long is this going to last?

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes?

I think what's the date, you know?

The drawers were all torn, Doctor. This weren't an accident.

And severe discolouration to the face.

Did you men see what happened?

She was floating in the water in the Prince's cut.

She came out like that, her face all black?

Yes, sir.

And none of you knows who she is?

No, sir.

Did you see anyone in the cut?

A Pickford flyboat went by, the Barbara Bray, and there was a gentleman, a big

gentleman, walking on the bank.

Constable, if I were you, I should telegraph the Oxford police and have

detain that boat.

What's this, Thomas?

Who's captain here?

Me, Rory Oldfield.

How many crew?

Three and a boy. Two ships. We run night and day. Well, get the rest of them out

of there.

What a devilish thing.

Come on, you two. Off the boat.

Rory. Have you lost a passenger?

Off her head she was. She's gone and fallen off. It's up to her. Where is she

now? Jumped up the filbert rock, didn't she? In the water?

No, it's the chopper.

Constable, a lady's trunk in here. Ropes cut.

And her shoes.

You'd better moor up properly, Mr. Oldfield.

Because I'm going to put the four of you in the derbies and take you down to

Oxford Jail. What for?

The woman's dead, as you well know.

This is a murder matter now.

Wasn't so bad, was it?

Just swallowing that tubing?

That's not what you need to worry about.

It's what they'll find with the biopsy.

Fit enough for a visitor, Mr Morse?

I think so.

Now, Morse.

We have

regulations

in this hospital.

We want Mr Morse to get better, don't we?

Yes, sister.

We can't do that if you bring in the wrong things, can we? No.

And don't stay long.

Good God, she's a bit sharp, isn't she?

What else did you bring?

Well, a single malt.

I don't suppose there's anything in here? I won't touch it until... Oh,

and a little light reading.

B .C. Kershaw chose it.

He's a university man like you.

His eager hands move down over her scanty knickers.

Thank you, sir.

Look, Mort, it's time you and I had a serious talk.

I've seen this coming for some time. Seeing what coming?

The truth is... What is it? It's the drinking.

I've tried to warn you. You mean you want me out?

You're ill, man.

Look, you're going to have to have a medical after this.

So, why not take an early retirement?

Who says I'm not going to get better?

Well, I don't know why you want to stay. It's all changing.

There's a new generation waiting to take over. Why not let them get on with it?

You mean Lewis?

Let's have no sour grapes over Lewis.

You wouldn't want to stand in his way, would you?

Go with dignity.

You're the best detective in all Thames Valley. Why not quit while you're ahead?

It's my life. I have given it everything. You know I'd get them to

you. Pension, benefits.

I am not taking early retirement.

I want that to be quite clear, sir.

You may have to, Morse.

Oldfield, Alfred Musson, sometimes known as Brotherton, Walter Towne, sometimes

known as Thorold. You are severally charged that on or about the 22nd of

1859, you did willfully murder Mrs. Joanna Franks. How do you plead?

Not guilty, my lord. Not guilty. Not guilty, sir.

Mr. Sergeant Williams, you appear for the Queen. Approach me, please.

One boy, my lord, excluded by reason of age.

And there were further charges of theft and rape?

Withdrawn, to speed the course of justice, my lord. Very well, Mr

proceed with your opening.

Time enough, Mr Morton.

Yes,

I'm still milled by mouth.

Thank you.

So, how do you feel?

The consultant should have the results of the biopsy today.

Yeah.

I'm solving a murder.

Well, it looks like someone's beaten you to it.

In 1859.

Adele, could you find out what the rail fare from Coventry to London was in

1859? Oh, I would... Bath at the Bodleian. No.

No, probably the National Railway Museum would be a better bet.

You really are serious about this, aren't you?

Because I'm having to lie here doesn't mean I've lost my capacity to think. I

know, I know.

But why?

I mean, it was, what, 140 years ago?

Indeed, and two men were publicly executed as a consequence.

Morse, you are ill, possibly seriously.

I'm preparing my senior students for a recital.

I'm trying to look after you.

and care for a sick, aging mother who lives over 200 miles away, and now

demanding that I join you in rewriting history.

I am beginning to suspect that a gross miscarriage of justice occurred in this

city in 1860, and I am determined to discover if this was the case.

The men in the dock, common boatmen, whose names are not their own.

whom the Christian religion has hardly touched, are charged with murdering a

young woman, Joanna Franks, a good and respectable woman, twice married

and unfortunate.

All right!

Cardinal Field?

Yes, mister?

Passenger, have you room to take one? How far?

All the way.

London.

What?

Oh,

looks like it. Huh? You're question?

I mean, you could have waited, couldn't you?

What a fine tune.

Well, I had to strike while the iron was hot, when nature had brought it home to

him.

He told you, then?

He rang me as soon as you left.

He was very distressed, as you might expect.

So you two are... Ah.

Morse always did fancy clever women.

If you're asking if we're living together, no, we're not.

But we're very good friends, and I greatly care what he's feeling.

He's worried sick.

Can't you see that?

Angel of death fluttered its wings over his head, you mean?

I didn't know you were so poetic, Chief Superintendent.

I'm not. That's what my mother used to say.

Look, he's ill now, and there's only two more years before he has to go.

And it's a new world out there, you know.

New police practice.

It's all crime prevention initiatives, computer detection, restorative justice.

What does that mean?

Offenders and victims talking to each other.

Some Californians thought of it, I expect.

Anyway, I shan't be there much longer myself.

I can't stand it, frankly.

And Norwell Morse.

And I can get him the best. Golden handshake, medical pensions. You just

expect him to see it like that.

He's given his life to his work.

Can't you make him face it?

Not if he doesn't want to.

His body's only telling him what his brain knows already.

Look, we both want him to go graciously. Yes, of course, but does he have to?

Look, I'll try.

Would you help him solve what looks like his last case?

What? The Oxford Canal murder.

The Oxford Canal murder?

That was 150 years ago.

Yes, I know.

But he's determined to investigate it, and he needs help.

Professional help.

Look, it's out of the question.

And two men down as it is.

I see.

Well, I'll tell him what you said about going graciously.

You like reading, do you?

Sorry? I said you like reading, do you?

And listening to music.

Not this music.

When's that consultant coming with those results?

When the tests are ready.

And how are we today?

Not good.

But this is.

Very good.

Very good, but?

But you simply accepted the verdict of the Victorian court because she was a

poor, respectable woman and they were the lowest of the low. They were.

They were drunk when they were arrested.

Doesn't that worry you?

If you just drowned a woman, would you just go on knocking back the grog? I

wouldn't. They might.

The evidence was all on the boat. Her trunk had been opened. Her shoes were

there. She would never have left the boat without them.

But if you'd done it, wouldn't you want to hide the traces, get rid of the

shoes? But her clothes were torn.

They were charged with theft and rape.

Why were those charges dropped before the trial?

Because if you can hang them for murder, you don't have to bother to jail them

for rape and theft.

Unless the charges wouldn't stick.

From Coventry, 36 -hour mum. One night on board.

Can I see her?

If you're willing to run the deck.

Her first husband was a vaudevillian,

a music hall entertainer.

The great Donovan.

emperor of all illusionists. She assisted him on the boards until, alas,

in Ireland.

Her husband left her destitute.

She then married Charles Franks, a good but poor man who left Coventry to work

in London as an ostler that his new wife might not starve.

When he had saved one sovereign, he sent it to his wife that she might join him.

She looked for the cheapest means of transport.

Not the railway train, not the stage.

No, alas.

She chose that boat on what would be her final

journey.

Good day.

I thought you might like to hear the results of your biopsy.

Thank you.

Well?

I'm afraid there's not a lot we can do.

What? There's no need for the knife at all. I shan't have the pleasure of

carving away half your insides.

Well, thank heavens for that.

You are seriously ill.

Severe peptic ulcer.

Non -cancerous, but undoubtedly worsened by drink.

Prognosis? Not bad.

But only if you change your modus vivendi.

Change what exactly?

All this beer and spirits you guzzle. Letter that. Not just for now. I mean

years ahead.

Well, at least I have years ahead.

You thought you didn't?

Good. Might make you listen.

Now, you're going to need plenty of drugs, plenty of rest, and I'm sending

dietician to advise you on a managed diet.

Turnip juice.

Have you had a drop yet?

Of turnip juice?

Tissue paper's always the giveaway.

I know it's God's gift, but leave it alone for now.

Certainly while Sister McLean's on duty.

You confiscate it? No, I'll drink it with you.

I think we can dispense with this for now.

When can I go back to work?

Don't even think about it for the moment.

The first thing we have to do is to get you out of here.

Someone to take care of, yeah?

I gather good news.

Ah, Miss Thistle.

Is he?

Oh, that's excellent, isn't it?

Tell him how pleased I am.

How's he feeling now?

Much better, but he's not out of the woods yet.

He'll have to take it easy for several months.

Yes, that's right.

A very delicate thing, the stomach.

You know that conversation we had?

I wondered if you discussed it with him.

Oh, I was wondering whether you'd thought again about what I said to you.

No, he hasn't forgotten at all.

He's going to be off sick for a while, and this Oxford Canal case, it's become

very important to him.

Tell him I can't possibly. We don't have anyone to spare.

Yes, yes, I know.

The room's over, sir.

Hang on a minute.

Kershaw?

Yes? Ah, looking for a Mr Morse. Are you?

Except I don't know him.

Try the one with his nose in the book.

Kershaw? Yes, sir.

And your graduate entry?

Yes, sir.

That's why I make such a good cup of tea.

You're not enjoying the police work.

Well, I'm supposed to be fast -track. Instead, I seem to be the chief

superintendent's tea boy.

Anyway, you said you had a case you're working on.

I heard of the Oxford Canal murder.

No, sir.

Recent, is it?

It was 140 years ago.

So, not much we can do about it now, is there, sir?

Isn't there?

You do believe in truth and justice, don't you?

I suppose two men had been hanged for a murder they didn't commit.

Sounds quite likely.

Wasn't it still Bow Street Runners, then?

It might help, Kershaw, if you knew more of the history of your own profession.

The Met started in 1829.

By 1846, Scotland Yard had its own detective bureau.

There was a detective force in Oxford.

Not much good, as far as I can tell.

What would you like me to do about it, sir?

For a start, you can find out what a train ticket from Coventry to London

in 1859.

Right.

Is that first, second or third?

Single return, regular or excursion? All of them.

I will be done, sir.

And the fare by stagecoach and the fare by canal.

Yes, sir.

How long are you going to be in hospital?

And then you can find out why the Oxford bargemen had such bad reputations.

That's because they had to work seven days a week, meaning they couldn't

Sunday service, meaning they were considered as heathens beyond the pale.

And they weren't called bargemen. They were boatmen.

I'll go to the Bodleian, see what I can find out.

Mr Stephens, you're a canal clerk employed at Tooley's Yard at Bambury.

Tell the jury what happened on June the 21st.

Sir?

The Barbara Bray docked with a woman passenger.

Did she not come to your shed to make a complaint?

She asked about the times of the coaches from London to Banbury.

Don't you mean Banbury to London?

That's what she said.

Yet did she not ask about other ways to London?

Why was that?

She talked about rude ways and drunkenness within the crew.

Is it common among that class of men?

I know the boatman to sometimes broach the cargo and become a deal inflamed.

It's called corkage, sir.

And yet you did nothing?

I offered.

I said I'd help her with lodgings for the night.

She refused.

And the boatman?

You didn't even rebuke them?

She looked like a lady who could fend for herself.

I saw her going back to the flyboat looking quite content.

If you had done your job, she might have saved herself.

That is all.

You told the jury Mrs. Franks returned to the boat after making the complaint,

but you thought quite willingly.

I felt that.

That's why I didn't report.

When the boat departed, she was laughing and drinking with the crew.

I'm very sorry, sir.

Feeling better now you're eating, Mr Morse?

Much.

Now, you tell me why a respectable woman who has just complained of being

harassed by men would go off drinking with them.

You'd be surprised.

It's called human nature.

Now, don't keep on reading all night, will you? It disturbs everyone.

Hannah MacNeill, hot woman at the Barge Inn.

Yes, my lord.

I'm not your lord.

He is your lord.

You undressed the body, I believe.

Tell us what you saw.

Well, sir, she was much disarrayed.

Bailiff. Show the dress in evidence.

Is that the self -same dress the lady was wearing?

It is, sir. And the tear on the sleeve, just like that.

The second exhibit, Bailiff?

Yes. Those word drawers.

Ripped right open.

I knew then that she'd been attacked in an improper way.

You mean raped?

Mr. Sergeant Williams.

That is not a charge here, is it? No, my lord.

Then do not answer, Mrs. McNeil.

Gentlemen, please understand that this is a trial of murder only.

Continue. What can you tell the court of her shoes?

That she won't wear any.

No.

Because they were found later, were they not?

In the passenger cabin of the Barbara Bray.

Too far again, sir. Too far.

Woman, haven't I taken enough?

Now, Mr. Morse, we're not going to be difficult, are we?

I'm sorry, Dr. Van Buren.

The Jackson's Oxford Journal, 1859, is out already. The young gentleman over

there. Thank you.

You were travelling up Canal through Prince's Cut and saw the Barbara Bray?

Yeah, but not clear.

Sounds as if the crew were quarrelling like.

Walter! Walter, get up there!

Thomas!

Thomas!

What happened there?

There's an outcome.

Was you with her? Was you having her?

No, I was just looking for my... Don't you touch anything in there!

A few moments later, you saw something in the water.

A dead lady in a blue dress.

How did she appear to you?

Her face was black and discoloured.

Quiet here.

Mr. Sergeant Williams, we have proceeded so far without evidence of the

identification of the victim.

I shall be attending to it most carefully, my lord.

Did you see anyone besides the boatman that morning?

Mr Ward, who helped me take her from the water.

Anyone else?

A man on the bank, walking.

Can you identify him at all?

No, sir.

A dirty man, but it was a thick mist.

Do we know who this man was, Mr Lyons? No, my lord, he hasn't been traced.

Excuse me.

Um, I know it's a highly un -British thing to do, but I couldn't help

that we're working on the same thing. Are we?

Yeah, the book you were using? I'm Millicent Van Buren.

Ah, yes. That's very good.

Um, you're a research student?

A policeman.

It's evil, really.

The man on the riverbank, Valentin.

Why was he never found?

There was an appeal in the newspapers, but I suppose it was pretty impossible

trace a passing stranger in Victorian England.

At the remand proceedings, four men were held. Why do you think they only

charged three?

The boat boy was only 15, and I suppose they needed his evidence to convict the

other three.

Remember, in those days, a prisoner couldn't testify in his own defense, nor

could he be cross -examined.

So the...

Boys' testimony was crucial.

Don't tell me you're beginning to think they didn't do it. If they didn't, then

who could have?

No one else was ever suspected.

Morse is working on instinct.

He is wasting your time. You do know that, don't you?

Thomas Wooden of Rugby, 15 years of age.

Yes, sir.

You know you must be honest.

Yes, sir. I'll be in trouble.

Now, tell the court what you remember of the behaviour of the boatman on that

journey on the Barbara Bray. That there was lewdness, was there not?

I'll see.

She did go in the cabin with Mr Oldfield.

I could hear them.

What could you hear?

I heard a man and woman.

Did she protest at all?

I don't know, sir.

Very well.

Tell us what happened on June the 22nd in the early hours at Filbert Lock.

Where were Musson and Towne?

I sleep in the crew cabin, I think, sir. You think, sir, but you don't know,

sir?

I heard Towne snoring.

Musson was infected in that trunk.

In the lady's trunk?

The lady's trunk.

He thought there were money in it. At least 50 sovereign, he said.

Did you ever see any of this money?

She was a poor lady.

Never thought there were any.

Where was Mr.

Oldfield?

Stern, sir.

He did go to the passenger cabin.

With Mrs.

Franks? Yes, sir.

Tom, this is Gilbert Locke.

Hi, Mum. I'll have to get off. Call a nature. Don't worry, I'll catch up.

She got off.

Was she wearing her shoes?

Yes, sir. Did she get on again?

Must have, sir.

I didn't see. Captain ordered me to go below and sleep.

And did you ever see Mrs. Franks again?

No, sir.

Never again.

Do you know how her shoes returned to the boat?

Must have come back, sir.

Well, did Captain Oldfield return to her cabin?

Don't know any of that, sir. Went fast asleep.

Whatever happened next, whatever was done next, was known only to those three

prisoners in the dock.

Yes, sir.

And you can't tell us what happened to Mrs Frank.

No, sir.

Did anyone say what had happened to her?

Captain Oldfield says she got off.

I mustn't reckon she jumped in.

In the canal, you mean.

What do you think happened?

The court is not concerned with what the witnesses think, Sergeant Williams.

She drowned, sir.

Didn't she?

She did indeed.

Thank you, Thomas.

Thomas, you wouldn't lie to go free, would you?

I should try not to.

What kind of a woman was Mrs Frank?

A pretty woman, wouldn't you say, sir?

Yes, sir.

Sometimes she was happy, sometimes she was fat.

Sometimes she was kind.

Sometimes she seemed crazy.

Not in a normal state of mind, you mean?

Don't know.

You said you went to sleep and never saw her again.

But in earlier testimony, you said she went ashore and you saw the others go

looking for her.

Now you say you know nothing of what happened because you were asleep.

Well, I must have been wrong before.

You must have been wrong afore.

Well, how do we know you're right now?

I am right now. You're lying, aren't you?

No, sir. What about?

Did you go into the passenger cabin?

No, sir, I didn't. Did you look for money in that trunk?

No, sir, I never thought there were any.

You wouldn't tell lies to save your skin?

No, I wouldn't, sir.

Wouldn't you?

Kershaw, what are you doing here? Yes, sorry about the lateness of the answer.

No, no, I'm glad to see you. It's just that I've been to the Bodleian and I

found out... The evidence of the boy, Thomas, I'm sure there's something

Sister! Sister!

He told the court what he was instructed to tell them, I'm sure of it.

But by whom?

Nurse, call the crash team now.

Right.

Hello? Crash team.

Third floor.

with Nelson Ward.

Emergency cardiac arrest.

I think I've got to go. Charging. 200.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Charging.

And clear.

And again. 200.

And clear.

Up to 360.

It makes one... Yes.

Yes, it does.

I'll draw this.

Well, thanks,

Fiona. I hope I haven't been a trouble.

You have, but never mind.

Remember to take your tablets.

I will. Come along, boy.

Ah.

Aye. Good luck.

Thank you, too, Sister McLaren.

You have your medication, so you take it regularly, or you'll be back here in

days. Same goes for the diet sheet.

Rest essential.

Don't try returning to work.

And back in a week, see Mr Benfield.

Yes. Oh, and you nearly forgot this.

Ah.

Keep it, sister, to remember me. Oh, no. Far too tempting.

And this.

Now we know what you like to read.

Look after him, Mrs. Morse.

Isn't that just more confusion around you?

The wife, you mean? Mm -hmm.

Not of my making.

You didn't tell them that I'd be able to look after you, did you? No, I can

manage. I don't expect you to.

No, I... It's only I have to get back to my mother in Carlisle for a few more

days. No, no, no.

I understand.

Good morning, sir.

Morning. Ah, you must be Miss Cecil. Can I help?

And you must be Mr. Kirshner.

Could you push him for me? Of course.

You must be glad to be getting out of here, sir.

Must I?

I think it frets the saints in heaven to see how many desolate creatures on the

earth have learned the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort in a

hospital.

Who said that?

No idea, Morse.

But have you learned the simple dues of fellowship?

I hope so.

Do you know, Kershaw?

Elizabeth Barrett Brown.

You take it as a warning, Morse. None of us are immortals.

Remember, the graveyard's full of indefensible men.

Nice of you to be so concerned, sir.

What's this?

It's details of the pension you'd be entitled to. You'd be pretty well off.

And you have a good life insurance, don't you? I don't intend to retire yet.

Well, the police surgeon may decide otherwise.

Physical fitness never had much to do with being a good detective. You will at

least admit I'm a good detective.

Yes, you are, but you can't go on forever.

None of us can.

Think of all the things you never had time to do.

Like what?

Crosswords.

Reading. All this.

All this what?

This music you're always playing. What is it?

Well, it varies, but this is Mozart's clarinet concerto. Well, there you are,

you see.

What do you make of him?

Kershaw?

Too clever by half.

He's been very good getting me settled.

I'd like to keep him for a few days while I can't do legwork.

All right, just a few more days.

But you're going to ruin the lad involving him in all this ancient

You are Mr Charles Franks, Osler of Edgware Road, London.

I am, sir.

The court appreciates your unhappy state, Mr Franks.

But in the interest of justice, recount as best you can the fate of the woman

you married.

Yes, sir.

My wife, Joanna, remained behind in Coventry.

when I went for work in London.

After a few months, I saved a sovereign and sent her to join me.

She wrote me to say she was coming by canal.

Ten days passed and she hadn't arrived.

I set out to look for her.

When I reached Oxford, I read in the newspaper of a local inquest.

We will await you, Mr Franks. Take your time.

I went to the mortuary, only to have my very worst fears confirmed.

The woman who lay there, cold and disfigured, was my wife, Joanna.

You are sure, Mr. Brax. The court must be clear on this point. You did say

disfigured. Oh, I was sure.

It was Joanna.

There was a birthmark on her, just behind her right ear.

A mark?

Only a husband would know, my lord.

Then you were shown shoes.

The shoes found in the floor cabin of the Barbara Bray.

Yes, sir.

I knew them at once.

They were hers.

Her favourite shoes.

What's in it?

Eggs, sir.

I think that's why it's called an omelette.

Omelette just means a thin plate, Kershaw.

It's the same word as amulet. Yes, sir.

All these courses you take, has anyone ever told you the first principle of

detection? No, sir. Only how to do the divisional planning report.

The basis of detection, Kershaw, is to keep asking why.

Why did she go by boat?

I don't know.

In 1859...

Ten trains a day ran from Oxford to London from competing railway companies.

Of so many, they'd nearly driven the canals out of business.

A free market, then, so pairs were cheap.

Sixteen shillings single from Oxford to London.

For a poor woman, that was a fortune.

If you rode first class of the gentry.

Yes, Kershaw.

What about third?

Six shillings.

From Coventry, it would have been about two shillings more.

And how much was the flyboat?

Four shillings.

So for four shillings, she could have saved her life.

And been in London in a day.

Doesn't make much sense, does it? I suppose not.

And why did she drink with the bargeman?

Boatman.

And why get off at Filbert Lock?

Probably to get her loose, sir.

But the trial didn't establish when she got back on again, did it?

And then why were the trunk robes cut?

And why were her shoes left in the cabin?

This is very good, Colonel. Thank you, sir.

You could have put more cayenne in there.

And why was her face black and disfigured?

I wondered about that.

The indictment said she'd been choked and drowned.

Well, they didn't have forensic pathologists then, did they?

So what was the medical evidence?

There was the report from the local doctor who examined Dr Willis, and later

mortuary doctor.

Where are they?

Check the medical archives.

Accredited research student?

Accredited policeman.

So what do you want?

I'm told you keep evidence here from Victorian trials in Oxford.

Wasn't it moved here from St Aldate?

Yes. Now it's a research archive.

What about medical records?

Those are in the medical records library.

And evidence and trials in 1860?

Over there, where it says a size 1860.

I have to go back upstairs.

If you need me, just call.

Constable Harrington, you told my legal friend you went to Iftley Lock to seize

the Barbara Bray.

What exactly did you find there?

Lady's trunk, sir.

In the passenger four cabins, its ropes were cut. Well, that might suggest

theft. Yet you charged the men with murder.

They were the lady's shoes, sir. A lady would hardly leave the boat without

putting her shoes on. If she decided to leave the boat suddenly, or decided to

drown herself.

Mr Lyons, surely the medical evidence has clearly shown that her death could

be suicide.

But I submit it does not amount to a proof that these men committed her

my lord.

The men in the dock are illiterate men, irreligious men, lewd men who drank to

excess and drank cargoes they were meant to guard.

But they have not confessed to murder, nor is it proven.

No witness was found, no firm evidence given to fix their part in this crime.

You heard the testimony of the young man, Woodman.

You heard he saw nothing of the poor woman's final moments.

Now, counsel says you must consider the shoes in the forecabin.

But if these men were guilty, would they not dispose of them?

No, Mrs. Franks died that morning.

But we know no more than that she went ashore, where others may well have

committed the crime.

What's her name?

Victorian Panties.

Mind if I borrow it?

It's not your sign.

For Chief Inspector Morse.

You heard of him?

I sure have.

But I didn't know he liked me.

Oh, he does now.

And all the rest of this.

You'll have to sign for it all.

Oh, it looks like the trunk in the case.

Except the initials are wrong.

Hers with J .F.

Maybe she was married before.

That's it.

Joanna Donovan was Joanna Frank's.

Married to F .T. Donovan, the great magician.

That's why it says F .T .D.

You're a marvel, Miss O.

Do you think so?

Your Lordship, we ask permission to retire and consider our verdict.

Indeed, but I must instruct you on some last points to consider. It is true that

the accused have not made a confession.

It is also true that we have no witness to this evil murder.

Although the evidence of the boy Wooten is proof enough that there was much

drunken lewdness.

You may ask yourselves why these men, if guilty, did not dispose of the murdered

woman's shoes, those she left in the forecabin.

However, you may conclude that they were so befuddled with drink as to ignore

such a natural instinct of self -preservation.

You may also consider that if these men are not guilty of this heinous crime,

well, who else on or near the flyboat Barbara Bray?

may have had both motive and means of carrying it out.

Gentlemen, you may arise.

Guilty.

Very well.

Rory Oldfield, Alfred Musson, Walter Townes, you have heard the verdict.

Have you anything to say?

My lord, I declare we are all innocent of that crime.

Mr. Towns, I think that last night you asked to speak to the prison chaplain.

I confess to him that all Christian things happened on that boat that never

should have improper things.

Resulting in murder?

No, sir, not that. Not to my knowledge.

Yes, prisoners of the bar, you have heard the verdict.

My duty is to pass sentence.

No, no, it's fine.

They let you out of Gulag. I'm delighted.

I gather you're putting a team on the case.

I met your Mr. Kershaw.

Interesting lad, isn't he?

I was wondering if I could offer you a meal.

No, no, not in a restaurant.

No, I have to stick to a very strict diet. But if you'd care to come to my

place... Of course, I'll bring a bottle.

Oh, sorry, I forgot. No.

No, it's quite okay.

I'll suffer beside you.

About 7 .30.

Right.

Yes, I've finished your book. At any rate, the section on the canal murder.

Well, good. I hope I convinced you.

I think the choir was a travesty.

And three men were sentenced to death by public hanging for a crime they almost

certainly didn't commit.

Do you mind if we... Go ahead. Tear my thesis to pieces.

A woman is murdered.

Four boatmen are arrested. Only three are charged. Why?

In the absence of witnesses, they need the boys' evidence to convict the

Yes. Here's a trial that was just a foregone conclusion.

A prosecution case riddled with contradictions.

A defense counsel who only went through the motions.

An offered jury prejudice against boatmen.

No proof at all of how the crime was committed.

And I think something else was wrong.

Why drop the charges of theft and rape?

Because they were minor charges compared to the murder charge.

Because it would have given the defense a chance to look into Joanna Frank's

sexual behavior.

You know what I think?

I think you're just working on your instinct.

Maybe your sexual instinct.

What? Sorry, Morse. If you're going to convince me... You're going to have to

really convince me.

Very well.

Four men are arrested.

Three are sentenced.

Only two are hanged.

Why was Walter Towns reprieved?

That was very dramatic. He'd gotten very religious in prison. He learned how to

read the Bible, got baptized.

Then, when they were being let out for execution... Yea, though I walk through

the valley of the shadow of death...

confession, they all protest their innocence.

Mr. Towns commended his dole to the law.

Bring Mr. Towns to me.

What to Towns?

In consideration of your recent religious behavior and reformation of a

way of life, the State Secretary, on my own advice, has seen fit to grant you a

reprieve. What do you mean, sir? Your sentence is commuted to transportation

life. What about the others, sir?

I must suffer the fate that is their due.

We're all innocent, sir. You know we were wrong, Walter. It's been a long

ain't got your back.

You ain't got your back.

Nice wheel,

sir.

It isn't wheels, Kershaw. It's a car.

Come on.

I just meant I like the car.

It's a terrific piece of retro.

Terrific piece of retro? What does that mean?

Well, postmodern nostalgia.

I suppose you think my interest in this case is another piece of postmodern

nostalgia. No, sir.

I'm enjoying it. Really?

What are they made of?

Calico, wouldn't you say?

Homemade, probably, by a competent seamstress.

Does that help?

So, the tear?

What tear?

Not the faintest sign of an irregular dissension of the fibre tissue.

You mean this.

Not a tear, a cut.

A clean, straightforward vertical cut.

You mean with a knife?

Yes. Like this.

What for, do you think?

Well, you're more experienced in the wicked ways of the world than I am, but

say to secure access, gain entrance, get inside.

Rape.

Not sure. With rape, you'd expect a tear.

Maybe somebody wanted it to look like rape. Don't know.

And the dress?

Cotton, domestically made.

Hem's been lengthened.

Bust, remodelled and extended.

All restitched with needle and thread.

Sounds unusual.

Not in Victorian times.

Dresses were usually handed on, weren't they?

Especially in poor families.

It's water -stained, of course.

Tell me, Morse, are we making proper use of police time?

Yes, in my view, it's important.

The shoes?

Yes. Shoes? No shoe size, of course, but they didn't hurt them then, did they?

Local cobbler, I should think.

They could do with a repair, but I don't do those.

Being very economical, Morse, you usually deliver me a body or three.

Not this time.

She drowned in the Oxford Canal in 1859.

Only the medical evidence said her face was blackened and bruised.

Isn't that more like suffocation?

Yes. Sounds as though they lacked a good forensic pathologist.

Do you want to leave these with me and I'll do some tests?

Please, Dr. Hobson. And if you find anything, I'm still on sick leave, so if

could call me at home.

You want a second opinion?

Why not get up on the table now?

No, thank you.

It always pays to return to the crime scene, Kershaw.

Never did like an elf.

Or she made for bodies.

In early Victorian times, they were the lifeblood of the nation. The motorways

of the age.

Except they were too slow.

They weren't slow.

They were measured.

Things moved at a more natural speed.

Half the traffic from the Midlands to London came through here.

Cargo boats, coal boats, salt boats.

Fast -fly boats with passengers and cargo.

And 140 years ago, the Barbara Bray came through in the morning mist.

And then another boatman found a body in the water.

Where, do you reckon?

Somewhere here.

What happened?

She was suffocated on the boat and frothed into the water.

Well, wouldn't somebody have seen?

Fisherman Ward said he heard a splash and a mist. He couldn't see anything.

There was another witness on the bank.

Who was he?

Donald Favant.

What? According to the newspaper inquiries, the police thought he was

Donald Favant, a man who booked into the bear at Woodstock.

I read it in Jaxadot's journal.

You could have said, Kershaw.

Maybe she was killed on the bank.

The boys said she got off and walked. Maybe she never got back on again.

Someone on the bank killed her. But who?

If we put her on the bank, it could have been anyone.

Shoes, Kershaw.

They were found in her cabin, and the court said that proved she got back on

board. Yes, sir.

Think about the cut in those knickers.

Why, sir?

It's the key to this case, isn't it?

Who was Joanna Franks?

What? What kind of woman was she?

What were her relations with those men?

Court didn't go into that.

Exactly.

Where's the barge in?

Where?

The place they carried the body.

I presume it's still there, and I presume it still serves beer.

How about it, Cashaw?

This case is all based on surmising prejudice.

Boatmen were drunk, thieves and rapists.

Ergo, they must have done it.

Sounds like the spirit of Victoria and Oxford, sir.

Oxford was seriously evangelical, remember?

What? That was a regular war of town and camp.

Religious students versus the heathen boatmen of Upper Fisher Row. They fought

all the time.

After this trial, the university used the verdict to evangelise the boatmen.

The law was changed to give them Sundays off.

They even built a chapel for them on Hythbridge Street.

It's still there?

I think it's a double -glazing establishment.

It's right opposite the Oxford jail where they hang the men. Just by the

Canal Basin, where the flyboat stopped.

They only filled that in a few years ago.

Is that a double -glazing establishment, too?

More or less.

It's called Nuffield College.

And how do you know all this?

I got my degree in Oxford before I became a tea boy.

First in history, Keeble College.

Would you like another, sir?

Yes.

Yes, I think I will, Kershaw.

And that makes a difference, does it?

Isn't Oxford a first?

You always were a phenomenal man.

Leekie no longer thinks I'm wasting my time.

You really are going to have to place it here.

What? You have to retire in two years' time.

Why are you putting up such a fight now?

This trunk belonged to Joanna Franks, the woman who was murdered.

And her initials were FTD?

She'd been married before.

A musical magician, F .T. Donovan.

Pass me that paper, my dear.

valuable historical evidence.

No. I think it's magic.

The

great

Donovan. Emperor of all the illusionists.

And his lovely assistant, Joanna.

See a headless...

Chicken mysteriously restored to life.

There's not much here, is there? No money.

Well, it could have been stolen. There was always a suspicion of theft.

Well, maybe the police removed it. Well, she must have had other things, too.

The things women carry. You know, handkerchiefs, perfume bottles.

Unless she had a handbag of some kind.

A carton bag.

What?

It was never mentioned again.

Where did it go?

All right?

Yes, Mr. Dunst.

Passenger, up your room. Take one.

How far?

All the way.

One, Dunst.

You brought my pants back.

I'm keeping them.

Vital evidence in a murder case.

They said you had something for me.

I went to the medical records library.

Is this what you want?

Medical report on Mrs Joanna Franks. Ray Victoria Regina versus Jay Oldfield and

others. Woman is around 35 years.

Lean, but quite well nourished.

Five foot three and one quarter inches in height.

Preliminary findings suggest death by drowning, but face congested,

and black.

No other serious injury, except disfiguring bruise on mouth, right side.

Body in full clothes, but without bonnet or shoes.

Draws torn, but no obvious evidence of sexual dealing.

It's these, Morse. Can you tell me any more about the woman who was wearing

them?

Didn't you say she was travelling by canal boat from Coventry? Long journey,

wasn't it?

A night and a day to Oxford.

In that case, she'd have to get off now and then, wouldn't she? Caused of nature

and all that.

She did.

The boat boys said she walked along the bank quite a way.

Not in these shoes.

They're light indoor shoes.

Not what you'd wear on a canal journey.

And there's no evidence at all of outdoor wear.

How tall was she?

According to the doctor's report, she was...

Five foot three and a quarter inches.

Any idea of the average height of a woman in the mid -19th century?

Smaller than now.

A lack of protein in the diet.

Bit smaller?

Not smaller?

Don't know.

Find you the height of Jack the Ripper's victim.

That was what, 1880s? They were all measured.

What were they?

Four foot nine.

Four foot eleven.

That sort of height.

Except one, see?

The one they called Long Liz because she was so tall.

And she was five foot three.

Well?

This dress.

It was made bigger.

To fit a woman of at least that height.

And look at the size of the shoes.

Yes, they're very small.

Nobody mentioned it.

Safe, congested, discoloured and black.

A suffocation, Morse.

So how was she identified?

My husband, ten days later.

After further severe deterioration?

Yes.

He had to identify her by a birthmark behind her ear.

Interesting woman, your Joanna Franks. She was tall, but she had small feet.

She drowned, but she was suffocated.

She was raped, but there was no sign of sexual activity.

She was robbed.

that nothing was taken.

You're looking much better.

I feel it, Dr. Van Boren.

So, where are we going?

Summertime. Hmm, sounds lovely.

Why?

So you found out something new?

I believe I have.

It's here somewhere.

Ah, yes.

Here it is.

To the memory of Joanna Franks, wife of Charles Franks. Who, having been

primitively assaulted, was most tragically drowned in Oxford Canal, June

1859.

So, um, she's buried somewhere around here.

Not exactly, miss.

I'm sorry.

Well, the memorial was moved, you see. This isn't the original Victorian

graveyard.

Do you know where the original grave was, then?

Doesn't the church have a record?

I doubt it. Is it important?

I suppose an exhumation was required.

Well, then you'd have a real job. You'd have to pull all them down.

The church sold the main graveyard for building several years ago and moved the

headstones over here.

Oh, dear.

I suppose it will all have to remain a surmise.

You know, you really lost me this time, Morris.

Just a minute.

Kershaw, that Undertaker's record, doesn't it say something about our

Society? The Coventry Mutual Providence Society and Burial Club.

Of course.

That's what this is about. She took out life insurance.

Will you try and find out, Kershaw?

Sounds pretty difficult, sir.

Well, trace the record. You're an historian, aren't you?

Morse, just what has to remain a surmise?

Oh, that a tall woman who wasn't Joanna Frank was buried in her grave.

Hello, is that the Hong Kong Macau Bank?

Yeah, this is Thames Valley Police.

We're making criminal inquiries, and I want to trace a life insurance policy.

It's with the Coventry Mutual Providence Society.

Yeah, long before your takeover three years ago.

Thank you.

Morris, you're not still trying to get me to tear up my book?

I'm just asking you to consider another possibility.

And that was why you wanted to dig up poor Joanna?

But was she really poor Joanna?

She was murdered, for goodness sake.

Are you sure of that?

What is the linchpin of a criminal trial and conviction?

Correct identification of the victim.

So? Everyone in court assumed that the victim was Joanna Franks, but how was

identified? By her husband, the ostler. And no one else?

No father, mother, brother, friend?

Well, she didn't have any, not that we're available anyway.

And none of the boatmen, not even Thomas.

Right, but there was Charles Franks. Who came up from London over a week later.

He looked at a corpse in an Oxford morgue.

The face was black and disfigured.

The body had deteriorated.

There was a birthmark that only a lover or a husband could know.

There was, wasn't there?

Joan of Franks. Died 22nd of June, 1859.

Paid in £8 .10.

Beneficiary, Charles Franks. Yes, he paid in full £300.

February 1861.

Ah, what now, Kershaw?

Checking your peps and tethers?

Ah, no, sir.

This just can't go on much longer, Kershaw.

Mr. Kershaw.

Hello, Susan.

And it's Adrian.

Why don't we... Why don't we have a drink later, if you're still here?

Yes, I can be.

Right. What really did happen in the Oxford Canal murder?

You bring me your book in hospital. I read. I get interested.

Before I've read ten pages, I can see that things just don't hang together.

Thanks. With the investigation.

I worry about the men arrested. I worry about the victim.

A sample of you?

Because nothing they've said about her in court makes sense.

Come on, Morrison.

What's your point?

Her clothes suggest that she's tall, but her shoes are small.

Her garments are tampered with.

But where?

And by whom?

The boatman.

Sure?

Let's start at the real beginning.

When she got on the flyboat at Coventry with her father -in -law.

Thank you, Alma.

Yet for eight shillings, she could have gone by train and been with her husband

in a day.

Why take the flyboat?

She was poor and was cheaper.

Not much.

The railways were trying to drive the flyboats out of business.

And then, according to the evidence in court, she went aboard with a trunk and

carpet bag.

We've seen the trunk.

But we never heard another word about the carpetbag. It was never mentioned

again in court.

Why?

We're told she objected to the lewd, drunken behavior of the crew, but she

drinking with them herself.

And Tan says she was leading them all on.

Even the boy.

In Banbury, she complained to the clerk.

But what really happened?

The crew of that flyboat, they're drunken and lewd.

Well, I'll speak to them, Mum.

Tell me, how long do coats take from London?

There's no more coaching till tomorrow.

I could find you some cheap lodgings for the night here in Banbury.

I'll wait in Oxford.

She had every chance to get off, but she didn't.

Why not?

Because there was never a problem.

She was the one leading the boatman on.

It was an illusion.

The stage was being set.

And Joanna the mastermind.

For what?

Tell Dr. Van Boren about the insurance.

For eight pounds, Joanna had taken out a life insurance policy with the Coventry

Mutual Providence Society worth 300 pounds.

For her, ten years' wages.

She'd got the boatman besotted with her.

Especially Thomas, because she needed him for what happened next.

No. What you think happened next.

Night fell.

They were getting near Oxford.

Remember Peg?

What did happen in Filbert Lock?

Not what Thomas said in court, I'm sure.

Is this Philbert Lock?

Aye, Mum.

Now, remember what we said. You won't tell anyone where I've gone.

No, I won't, Mum.

I'll give you what you want. Just pick me up again at A -Lock.

I'll do it for sure.

That you were down?

No, I mean, she's in the cart.

You brought the dress and drawers?

You said she was told to lengthen the M and I flicked the drawers.

But was she?

Better you never know.

It's a dreadful thing.

We stand now, my dear.

We can't go back now.

But I don't want to see.

No need to see.

Right up front with me.

She's just some unhappy nobody.

We're here. Hey, look.

You'll get back on all right? Oh, yeah, they'll do anything for me.

There's Prince's cut. You know what happened there?

Yes. Stay under as long as you need.

Don't let a soul see you climb out. The cart will be near the bridge.

Get in and lie down.

I'll be along as soon as I finish.

Now get down.

Time I drove on.

It is too suffering you item You

must

have given him money to keep his mouth shut And I think the police found it and

thought he'd stolen it from us Why didn't they charge him they needed his

testimony in court

I heard someone in the water.

Walter! Walter, get up here!

Thomas!

Thomas!

What happened there?

I don't know, Captain.

Was you with her? Was you having her?

No, I was just looking for her. I didn't touch anything in there.

Where is she? I don't know.

Damn and blast that horrid woman.

She's crazy up her head.

Look for her.

Yeah.

And all Franks had to do was turn up in Oxford ten days later and identify the

unknown corpse.

You are sure, Mr Franks, the court must be clear on this point. You did say

disfigured. Oh, I was sure.

It was Joanna.

There was a birthmark on her, just behind her right ear.

A mark only a husband would know, my lord.

And the case against the boatman was complete.

So who was buried in the grave in Summertown?

We'll never know now.

And who was Charles Franks?

The man who collected the insurance a year later and was never seen again.

Neither was Joanna Franks.

I suppose they went away together.

Maybe America.

Who knows?

You should write novels, Morse.

You can't prove a single word, can you? Most of it.

The prosecution case never held up.

The woman in the grave isn't Joanna Franks, and the rest is just the most

logical view of all the evidence.

The best way through the maze.

Exactly.

I'll have another, Kershaw.

Make it a full pint this time.

I'm sorry I couldn't convince you.

Well, nice try and all that, but I'm not going to tear up my book.

Well, what about a revised edition?

Well, I still think I was right.

And I think I was right.

Oh, Morse.

It was just a puzzle that you found a way to solve. A creative fiction.

Admit it.

You know how Charles Dickens defined a good detective? As a conjurer.

I brought you a present.

Criminal detection in the Edwardian period by Millicent Van Buren.

Fine.

Thank you.

A little light reading matter.

Goodbye, Morse.

returning to the States.

Good.

Know anything about cricket?

What's the clue?

Bradman. Famous duck. Six letters.

Forget cricket. Think Disney.

Who's the wolf?

Who's the fetter?

Quixote.

Evenater. What was his wife's name?

Don. Oh.

Donald, the famous duck.

I'm sorry.

Don Favent F .T.

Donovan.

Emperor of all the illusionists. The greatest man in all the world. The

Boy Bay wonder.

Where is Bertner Boy Bay?

West of Ireland.

I understand perfectly.

You've come to Ireland for a spot of holiday gravedigging.

Some holiday, Mark.

I'm not sure how to go through the right channels. I need to get permission for

an exhumation. Ah, nobody's going to be bothered about a body that was put away

150 years ago. But it is always proper to provide a little whiskey at the

graveside.

It's thirsty business, the working of the soil.

You'll find a pub over there and I'll walk with you myself.

Mr. Moore, will you open it then?

I'd rather you.

Ah, come on, Leon, give us a hand.

I must say, for a long -ground man, he's wonderfully preserved.

But wonderfully. Will you take a look?

I'd rather not.

Why, whatever's the matter?

He wasn't dead at all?

Not here at Bird and the Boy Bay.

Why did they fake a burial then?

So that they could collect on the insurance.

And they didn't just play the trick once, they did it twice.

You mean, he married the same man twice?

Yes.

F .T. Donovan.

Otherwise, Donald Favant.

Otherwise... Charles Franks.

He was a conjurer.

He was an impersonator.

He was a swindler.

He was a callous murderer.

A cheerful witness.

He was Joanna Franks' first husband and her second.

He was a ghost from the grave.

He was...

The greatest man in all the world.

Welcome, please!

A great citizen of the world and Ireland! A man!

I can't see any reason for keeping you on work a moment longer.

Sorry.

I'm thinking about a retirement.

Is that wise?

Retirement doesn't always suit busy men.

They never know how to stop.

Wish you'd told me that a few weeks ago.

Don't think it would have made any difference.

So, it's the end, is it?

I think so.

To make an end is to make a beginning.

The end is where we start from.

Exactly.

Goodbye, Mr. Morse.