All language subtitles for Endeavour - 07x03 - Zenana.RIVER.1

Concerto No.4 in F Minor,
'L'inverno', by Antonio Vivaldi

Admit men into our women's college,

you would invite the wolf inside the
citadel.

We cannot underestimate this.

The barbarian is at the gate!

Within this college we are safe,
we are free.

Beyond the pale,
we are neither of these things.

We are prey.

Broken neck.

There are wounds adjacent to the jugular.

Bruising at the trauma site

suggests the attacker sucked,

or attempted to suck, her blood.

Still think we got him?

It doesn't mean...

It means maybe you're not as smart
as you like to give out.

We've got a passer-by
who heard someone whistling

along the towpath last night.

Antonio, would that be?

* Oh, oh, Antonio He's gone away... *

That's right. Why?

In here! Carl Sturgis...

I'm arresting you for the murder
of Bridget Mulcahy.

Examination of the ladder
upon which he stood

shows that it was old and in poor repair.

There are no suspicious
circumstances pertaining.

And accordingly, I record a verdict

of death by misadventure.

* Ave Maria *

* Gratia plena *

* Maria, gratia plena... *

It's not helpful to reopen the debate.

They're just requesting
that we speak to the student body.

I just don't understand
why they're asking us again.

Of the nearly 40 colleges in Oxford,

only five are open to women.

Five!

And yet, the faculty are once again
entertaining the idea

that Lady Matilda's should open its
doors to men.

I say, no!

- No, no.
- Maggie...

No! I'm sorry, Warden...

this is a place of women.

And its precincts should remain
inviolate.

It's just a straw poll, Mags,
of the student body.

- Advisory at best.
- Advisory?

Well, this is my advice. Drop the idea.

Because, I promise you,

I will fight any attempt
to make this college coeducational.

I will fight it to my last breath!

* Ave Maria. *

There were grounds to believe

that the person responsible
for the murder at Corax House

also killed the barmaid, Molly
Andrews, on the towpath at New Year,

as both women were known to that
individual.

It was the flasher
that threw us off the scent.

Tony Jakobssen.

He had his throat cut.
Completely different MO.

Of course, it's now clear
that Jakobssen was got rid of

because he'd strayed
on to the killer's hunting ground.

It's all very well the Yard picking
over our work

with the benefit of hindsight.

The important thing is Carl Sturgis
is on remand

at Farnleigh Prison, awaiting trial.

He can do no further harm.
That's what matters.

We got him in the end.

We would have got him a deal sooner
if we'd been listened to.

Morse meant well, of course,
and his record speaks for itself.

I'm not suggesting
any repercussions for him.

Not for a moment, no. But...

we invested too much faith in his
abilities.

Backed his instincts too wholeheartedly.

We gave him his head. Overindulged him.

And he was wrong.

And it was a week before he
was due to walk me down the aisle.

The past year, it's all he talked about.

It was no-one's fault.

That's what the inquest said.

But I can't help but blame myself.

- How's that?
- Money.

We've never been well-off,
but he did want to make it nice.

The wedding.

He was working all the hours.

Sold his big car for something smaller.

He even cashed in
a couple of life policies he had.

He was alone when the accident
happened, is that right?

Yeah. The pulley went
on the block and tackle.

Dad had been saying
it needed replacing, but...

...just never got around to it.

These, er... freak accidents of yours.

I've taken a look. There's
nothing there, as far as I can see.

No grounds for opening an
investigation, leastways.

Really?

None of the deceased
were known to each another.

- And there's nothing that links them.
- Well, I'd like to keep at it.

Not really our place to go looking
for work, is it?

Not when there's real cases
going begging.

Well, I think these are real cases.

Then we'll have to disagree.

We all make mistakes sometimes,
get things wrong.

- Even you.
- Is that right?

There's no shame in it.

It just makes us be double sure
of a thing next time.

How did you know about the song Antonio?

How did you know that's what the
passer-by would have heard?

Because that's what I heard
when I followed Sturgis.

- That's what he was whistling?
- That's what I heard.

That's not the same thing.

I lost sight of him,
I heard the whistling.

- So, it could have been someone else.
- No, it couldn't.

We have four people
who can stand him alibi

the night his girlfriend was killed.

Four people can put him
at that New Year's Eve party

- until the early hours of the morning.
- They said they did.

Not to mention the taxi driver
that dropped him off

and picked him out of a line-up.

- It's past debate now.
- Is it?

Then, how could he be in two places
at once?

- It was him.
- Why, because you say so?

- That's right.
- All right. Well, what about evidence?

What about Molly Andrews' crucifix,
for example?

We've turned his place upside down
and we couldn't find a thing.

Not a thing!

It's Sturgis. He's been charged.
And there's an end of it.

Well, I hope you're right. Really, I do.

But I think a jury are gonna
want more than your gut

when it comes to court.

And I'm not wrong. These freak
accidents, they are connected.

* Growing stronger *

* Warm and wilder *

- * Getting better everyday... *

Ah-ha! About time.

* I don't feel all turned on and
starry-eyed *

* I just feel a sweet contentment
Deep inside... *

I don't think I'll ever quite get
used to this place.

It's not as if I can come
to your house. He might drop by.

Five months. She should be back
soon, shouldn't she, your friend?

New Year sometime.

- What does she do again?
- She's a dancer.

Where?

Some discotheque in Beirut. Why?

Does it matter?

No. I don't suppose so.

Come in, number 23, your time is up.

- What's that?
- Oh, nothing.

It's something they say
on the boating lake

when you've had your hour.

- You know how it works.
- Yeah...

Ludo and I might be away.

Did I say?

For Christmas.

Cortina d'Ampezzo.

Skiing...

Nice.

It won't always be this way.

Well, we will have to tell him
sooner or later.

The longer it goes on...

It would kill him.

We're all adults.

These things happen.

It's nobody's fault.

It's funny.

I think it's you he'd mind losing...

far more than me.

I'm sure you'll have made plans of
your own,

but you're very welcome to have
Christmas lunch here with us.

Oh, you're here, are you?
I didn't hear you come in.

Joan should be home.

Thursday.

- 'There's another body.'
- When?

You know, it's nothing extravagant.

- Where?
- Just enough food for everybody.

And the children get out a game
or two for after the Queen,

- and Fred has a doze in front of the big film.
- Right.

- We've got to go.
- I haven't done your sandwiches.

- They'll have to keep.
- Mrs Thursday.

There's been another one
along the towpath.

Sir. Morse.

A cyclist found her
about an hour and a half ago.

Undergrad from Lady Matilda's
it looks to be.

Name of Petra Cornwell.

19.

Her digs are a quarter of a mile
up the towpath.

Anything from witnesses or passers-by?

Nobody's come forward as yet.

Nobody heard the whistling or...?

As I say, it's too early.

Doctor...

Time of death between eight to 12 hours.

At first glance, cause of death
would appear to be asphyxia

by means of manual strangulation.

Not like the last one, then?

- Well...
- No blood, no blood drinking.

That's something, isn't it?
I mean, that's something.

- Let's not.
- How's that? Let's not what?

- Oh, it doesn't matter.
- No, no.

Let's not what?

Let's not clutch at straws
to save our blushes.

Three women, one man.

It's the same killer for all.

Whoever killed Molly Andrews
killed this young woman.

Oh, yeah?

You'd like that to be true, wouldn't you?

Show me up.

"The old man's losing his touch."
Is that it?

- I didn't... I didn't say that.
- You don't need to.

But before you get all high and mighty,

let's not forget you had all
this down for Naomi Kane's killer.

Yes, I know.

But if we're being honest about it,

when it comes to something like this,

you've never really had
that much touch to lose, have you?

- Morse...
- Well, it's true.

This is what I get, is it?

I've stuck my neck out for you
more than you know.

Yes, of course you have. Who wouldn't?

I mean, bank robberies, car thieves,
yeah, there's no-one better.

But if it's something that demands

a bit of intellect or finesse, then...

You arrogant, conceited...

Gentlemen!

You will conduct yourselves with
decorum and the solemnity

appropriate to this situation

or you will find some other place
to stand!

If you want to carry on like that,

you find yourself another pathologist.

- Am I understood?
- Max, I'm sorry, I...

Am I understood?!

Then we shall say two o'clock.

That's the face we want to
show the world now, is it?

Washing out our dirty smalls

in front of respected friends
and colleagues.

God almighty, what's the matter with you?

Well...

I hope you're both pleased
with yourselves.

I'll put in for a transfer
as soon as this is over.

Banbury or Kidlington.

I think we've taken it
as far as we can, you and I.

Yeah, I think that's about right.
For the best.

You said McNutt's at Kidlington.

Maybe you could put in
a good word for me.

Oh, my word's good enough for that, then?

If you want to be on your way,
don't stay on my account.

I'm not. I'm staying for her.
And for the rest of them.

But don't worry, as soon
as this is over, I'll be gone.

Fair enough.

I'll get a patrol car back
to the nick, report to Mr Bright.

You can talk to her college. Right?

- Dr Byrne?
- Yes?

Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

I have it from the Admissions Officer

that you are tutor to a Petra Cornwell.

I am.

What? What is it?

- I am sorry.
- Are you?

Then why can't you stop it?

- Well, we try.
- Well, try harder!

These are your friends doing this.

Your brothers, fathers.

She was just lovely.

Beautiful and clever...

and kind. Just...

Just lovely. I...

- I don't know what to say.
- Maggie?

Love, what's wrong?

Hey...

What's going on?

It's the police, there's...

- I'm sorry, I can't say it.
- It's all right.

I'm afraid an undergrad
has been found on the towpath

beneath the Port Meadow bridge.

It's Petra.

Petra Cornwell?

Wait a minute, I thought you'd
caught the Towpath Killer.

He's in prison, isn't he?

Four victims across the last 11 months.

The first, Molly Andrews,
was found here on New Year's Eve.

The second, whom we now believe
to have been killed

because he was queering
the Towpath Killer's pitch,

was Tony Jakobssen,
a cook from the working men's club.

Third...

was Bridget Mulcahy at the end of June.

She was killed here,

on the way home from her boyfriend's.

So far, she's the only one
with this blood drinking business.

Now we've got this undergraduate
from Lady Matilda's, Petra Cornwell.

- No blood business there?
- No, sir.

Untouched, in that regard.

- She lived in digs?
- Yes.

With two other girls, I think.

What's this?

The faculty has decided to hold
a referendum.

Whether Lady Matilda's
should admit men to college.

- Will it pass?
- Over my dead body.

Sorry, that was a dreadful choice
of words.

I will need to speak to her flatmates.

Of course.

Did she have any enemies?
Any that you know of?

She was a pretty 19-year-old woman
with a happy disposition

and not a malicious thought in her head.

Does that invite enemies?

It certainly invites attention of a
kind that isn't necessarily welcome.

Sorry, how's that?

Petra made a formal complaint last
month about a Fellow at Corax House.

It's a scientific department
attached to Cardinal College.

Yes, I know it. What was the nature
of the complaint?

And about whom?

I was just helping her down
from a ladder.

She said you grabbed her breast
and made a lude comment.

It was just a misunderstanding.

She had big knockers, you know,
proper Hindenburgs.

Anyway, she span around on this ladder

and one of those things
collided with my hand.

And all I said was,
so as not to embarrass her,

I just made light of it, I said,

"Well, you don't get many of those
to the pound, do you, love?"

And that didn't improve the situation?

Oh, did it buggery.

It was a joke, man.

Only, she didn't see the funny side,
did she,

and made a mountain out of a molehill?

But what do you expect?
These bloody Matildabeests!

The stuff they fill their heads with
these days,

card-carrying members of the comfy
shoe brigade, that's what they are.

And where were you last night,
for the record?

Well, I wasn't on the towpath giving
Petra Cornwell what for,

I can tell you that.

It's awful what happened to her. Truly.

I wouldn't wish it on my worst
enemy. But...

...nothing to do with me.

Sir...

Sturgis' lawyers have called
for the case to be dismissed

and for his immediate release.

Neither Division nor the Crown
will oppose the request.

Huh, today...

...of all days.

Sir?

My wife returns from the United States.

Any news on how the treatment went, sir?

Well, it was experimental, but, er...

...we're hopeful.

It is him, sir.

That's not how Division sees it.

We have to face the facts, Thursday.
We got it wrong.

Desperately, hideously so.

We got it wrong, and the
Towpath Killer remains at large.

I've lost my job, my livelihood.

My name's been dragged through the mud.

The police knew I hadn't done it,
but went through with this charade.

You'll take action against them?

I've spoken to my solicitor, Mr Vholes.

He's advised me
that I am reserving my position.

And what makes me sick is that,

while they had me locked up in prison,

the real Towpath Killer
has been free to strike again.

And that's unforgivable.

I just hope they catch him this time.

Thank you.

- He's not wrong.
- But you were.

The boyfriend of the first victim?

- He always seemed too obvious to me.
- Mm, and he had an alibi.

So, I've been told, your freak
accidents, it's a no-go, I'm afraid.

That people have accidents, people die.

- What do you want me to say?
- I don't know, that I'm not going mad.

That there's something to my story.
That you haven't given up.

Have you...

given up?

Well, I don't think you're going mad.

Well, that's a relief.
Because I think I've found more.

So, I started to wonder

if it was something just happening
here in Oxford,

or if there was something further afield.

And?

And I turned up nearly a dozen
fatal accidents

in Dover and Uttoxeter in the past year.

Off your patch. But I thought
it might be worth a look.

This is Oxford, though.

I was at the inquest. A Mr and Mrs Jones.

They'd only had the balcony painted
a week or two before.

- Did anybody see him fall?
- The wife.

She was crossing to the car, just below.

He came out onto the balcony
to wave her off.

It gave way.

Insurance found the bolts had rusted
through.

But they had no reason
to think it wasn't an accident?

Well, I can't imagine
they would have paid out otherwise.

- Oh, why? Did she get much?
- He left her looked after.

But it'd be a different story
if it had been her who fell.

How's that?

Their son had got into debt,

so she sold her life policy
without telling her husband.

Right. And if she'd gone off the balcony,

then Mr Jones wouldn't have earnt
a thing?

Not a sou.

Right.

Miss Tate?

I wondered if I might talk to you
for a moment?

I went to the working men's club.

- They said you were no longer there.
- I couldn't.

Not after everything.

You were very brave.

- I'm bad luck.
- No, I'm sure that's not the case.

I wondered if I might have a word
with you.

Yeah.

I just wanted to ask you

about what happened with Molly
Andrews on the towpath at New Year.

- You didn't see anything...
- No.

...with Tony?

No.

I said.

- I just want to put all that behind me.
- What about the second girl?

Bridget Mulcahy. Did you see anything?

- Anything at all?
- I just...

I just want to be left alone.

Please.

Another girl was killed on the
towpath last night.

- Did you see something?
- There's nothing I can tell you.

All right.

OK, I'm sorry to have troubled you.

- What's in there?
- Nothing.

Nothing.

Please, don't! Don't go in there, please!

- Please, don't...
- It's all right. It's all right.

What is it? Is that what you see?

I thought, if I get it out...

...out of my head, it would stop.

But it hasn't.

And what's the tinfoil for?

To keep it trapped.

It?

Him.

Who is he?

He comes when I'm not looking.

I can smell him first.

Like a...

...a burning smell.

Then I catch him
out of the corner of my eye.

But if you turn too quick, he disappears.

I know he's not there.

He can't be.

But he must be, mustn't he,
if I can see him?

- Why, can you see him now?
- Mm.

Miss Tate, there's nobody there.

It's all right, it's OK.
Shh, come on, there's nobody there.

There's nobody there.

There's nobody there.

I'm really concerned about your
wellbeing.

I don't think you should be here
alone. Is there anybody I can call?

A family member or...?

No, no, no.

No, there's nobody.

Please, don't tell anyone about this.

I don't want doctors.

They've put me away before. And
I know what those places are like.

Please...

There, now. There.

Get out of it!
Before you get my toe up your arse.

Gertcha!

All right, all right.

It's all right.

I grew up in a big pub. Huge.

On the corner of the street. Four floors.

On Sundays, in the afternoons,
after closing...

...cousin Kevin would have us all
play hide and seek.

Only, I like necks, he called it.

Cos if he got you,

he'd hold you down and pin a big,
fat, wet raspberry on your neck.

Making out it was all a big joke
and a game.

I don't think it was altogether.

A game.

Not to him.

He'd count to 100 and we'd all run
off and find somewhere to hide.

I hid in my aunt's wardrobe once
and it was all fur coats and that.

Stoles, you call them?

Things made out to look like foxes
or some other animal.

Their paws hanging down
and glass eyes on wire.

There was this handbag smell, all stale.

Perfume and lipstick and old sweets,

all mixed up with mints and cigarettes.

Hello?

Let me out!

Somebody must have shut the door
and turned the key.

I couldn't...

And I screamed and screamed
and screamed, till I was gasping.

I must have inhaled a feather
or some fur, cos...

...I sucked it in gasping.

I couldn't breathe.

The next thing, I...

...I wake up in my bed
and it's gone teatime.

I could hear them in the bar
downstairs opening up.

I must have fainted or...

...had one of my turns that I have.

And where is he now?

Kevin.

Dead.

They all died.

There was a fire.

I was the only one to get out.

A fireman found me, but...

...everyone else died.

There...

There now.

Oh...

Oh, I'm happy to be home!

I have missed you, Puli...

so much.

And I you, my dear. And I you.

Was it very bloody?

Desperately.

But Dr Schneider says
the indications are good.

The X-rays show shrinkage in both lungs.

He's hopeful the treatment
may have triggered...

...some kind of remission.

That's wonderful news, my dear.

Just... Just wonderful.

Fred...

I warned her.

That's the thing of it. I warned her.

Warned who?

Bridget.

A day or two before it happened,
I was, er...

down the towpath.

She was gonna meet her boyfriend.

I got talking to her.

I told her she shouldn't be walking
on her own down there.

I should've stuck to my guns
from the off.

Well, why didn't you?

People thought different.

What people?

Sorry, I should have called.

Not at all, not at all.
Is everything all right?

Yes.

- Do you have something to drink?
- Of course.

- Wine or...?
- Whisky, if you've got it.

Yes.

What's all this?

Oh, erm..

That's work.

It looks very gruesome.

A catalogue of bizarre accidents?

Well, maybe, maybe not.

If they're not accidents, then we've
something sinister on our hands.

So, what is it, what's wrong?

Oh...

You're my friend, aren't you?

I mean, I like to think so.

I need your help.

Advice.

About what?

My wife.

It's mad, I know.

But she's...

These past few months...

I think she's seeing someone.
Someone else.

What gives you reason to think that?

She's been...

I don't know.

But since we got back from Monte,
something's changed.

But you were in Antibes
over the summer. How was that?

Twin beds.

She says I snore. I don't snore.

Well, have you spoken to her about it?

I'm afraid.

What does one say?

Oh, I'm afraid I'm...

I'm the last person
you should ask about this.

I'm sure it'll be all right.

Give her some time to think about things.

You know, give her some space.

Yes. Yes, perhaps you're right.

Thank you.

You're a good friend, Morse.

Carry on, girls.

A few more laps.

Aye aye.

It looks like I might've got you out
on a wild goose chase, matey.

Accident, right, Doc?

It looks that way.

She's come up the library ladder

for something to the top of the bookcase.

She's reached for whatever
she's reached for.

The ladder's slipped.

And she's fallen
and struck her head on the bust.

Just a freak accident.

I noticed the brake on the casters...

...appeared somewhat unreliable.

Right.

Time of death?

About midnight.

And everything was
just as you found it, was it?

- Exactly as you found it?
- Yeah.

Why?

Does she have any family
that we can inform?

Both her parents are gone, and, erm...

...she was an only child. Unmarried.

So, I believe she'd made provision

for her estate to come to the college.

There won't be much.

Her house is heavily mortgaged,

and whatever insurance and savings
she had went on the deposit.

How's that?

She redeemed a couple of policies,

life and annuity,

to make what she had to put down
on the house.

Is there any news on Petra?

Oh, I'm afraid not.

Well, whoever he is,
he's taken his last Matildabeest.

If you can't keep us safe,
the village will defend itself.

Er, I wouldn't advise taking matters
into your own hands.

We'll do whatever we have to.
But I swear, no more of us will die!

Morse!

What's all this?

There's, erm... There's been an accident.

Er, a fatal accident.

What are you doing here?

We have an appointment with the Bursar

to discuss a charity concert
for Ludo's foundation.

- Ah.
- But perhaps this isn't the best time.

Sir. This is
Detective Chief Inspector Thursday.

- This is Mr and Mrs Talenti.
- Ludo, please.

Ludo?

- That's right.
- What, like the game?

It's short for Ludovico.
But, yes, exactly that.

- And what are they to do with here?
- Er...

Nothing, sir. Mr and Mrs Talenti
are just friends of mine.

They're here to see the Bursar.

Well, if you'll excuse us.

Detective Chief Inspector. Morse.

- It was lovely to meet you.
- Madam.

Well?

An accident, apparently.

She fell from a ladder
whilst reaching for a book.

- So, where does "apparently" come in?
- The lights were off.

Hard to find a book in the dark,
I would have thought.

You think someone turned them off
after she'd fallen?

No, I think it's one of
Dorothea Frazil's freak accidents.

We've been through that.
There's nothing there.

Just as likely, whoever found the body,

or whichever uniform was first on scene.

Not that you'd get them to admit it.
But it happens.

- Well, it shouldn't.
- Well, it does.

You can't build a case
that someone's going round Oxford

killing random strangers out of
one light switch not being on.

Anything from the towpath?

No.

Matter of fact, I think we've
probably got enough bodies on that.

I spoke to McNutt.

He's got a spot on his firm
that comes free after Christmas.

Wait...

You're taking me off the towpath case?

Yeah.

Well...

- Well, there we are.
- Right, well, you can't.

If you want to catch him,
then you need me.

I need someone I can stand on.

I'm a bagman, not a yes man.

I'm here to keep you on the straight
and narrow, and tell you

when I think you're barking
up the wrong tree. That's my job.

Not any more.
I'm appointing Siddle bagman.

You're off, I need to get
someone else housebroken.

- No time like the present.
- Right.

Misanthrope.

30 across, 11 letters.

"Like Scrooge he rouses phantom's ire."

I was saving that.

No, you weren't. You were stuck.

Anything more from the bundle I gave you?

Well, I've been going through
Dover and Uttoxeter.

But I've just come from Lady Matilda's.

I think we've got another one.

Dr Nancy Deveen, fallen from a ladder.

That pub fire I called you about.

Did you get anything?

Er, nothing that mentioned a Jenny Tate.

I did find a report from 1949.

The Wolf's Head in Watlington.

Three children, two girls and a boy,

orphans, living with an aunt,
an uncle and a cousin.

- And what happened?
- All killed, bar one of the little girls.

Phyllis Linden.

Suspicion was that she had set the
fire. Charges were never brought.

But she was found to be severely
disturbed and put away.

Well, she could have changed
her name, I suppose.

Wouldn't you?

Anyway, it's all in there.
Everything I could find.

Now, if you'll excuse me...

...I'd better get over to Lady M's.

- Right.
- Keep me posted.

I will. Thank you for this.

Urgh!

- Come on!
- Come on, ladies!

- Murderer!
- Bastard!

Don't let him get away!

Who is he?

A man called Clemens, sir. David Clemens.

He works at the Morris plant.
A keep fit fanatic.

Clemens...
Why does that name seem familiar?

He found the first body. Or so he claims.

Molly Andrews, the barmaid.

His flat is a virtual museum
to the crime.

Newspaper cuttings all over the place.

How is he?

In a coma.

Are you all right?

Yes.

No. I don't know.

It's all just...

I was fine and then...

That whistle.

It must have been the last thing
Petra heard.

* Now a ghost wheels her barrow... *

It's just horrible.

Well, we did it, matey.

I think "we" is stretching it.

Whoever did it, it's done.

"In Dublin's fair city."

That's what Clemens was whistling,
according to Dr Byrne.

Molly Malone, not Antonio.
Why do you think that is?

Oh, no, no. Oh, no, you bloody don't!

If he was whistling something else,
it's because he changed his tune.

Just go home and get some sleep,
all right?

Morse.

'It's Ludo.

'I need your help.'

Why, what is it? What's wrong?

'I've booked a table at Augusto's
for one tomorrow.

'I'll see you there.'

Right.

Right.

See you tomorrow.

I see you were on
the George Fontayne case.

A boy went missing from Pierton in 1949.

Oh, yeah.

We did a review of it for County
ten years on in '59.

Kidnapping, it was assumed,

though no note ever came
and the kid was never found.

Anyone suspect?

The usual. Child molesters and the like.

We pulled them in again during the
review, but it didn't go anywhere.

What do you think happened?

Somebody took him, most likely.

Or he drowned.
Lots of waterways round there.

And he liked to play out.

The canals and rivers were dragged
at the time, but without success.

- What's your interest?
- Just something I'm looking at.

I thought you'd be down the pub
with the rest.

Lukewarm draught and a handful
of backside from the typing pool?

- No, thanks.
- Let them enjoy themselves.

- We got our man.
- WE didn't get him.

I don't think there's anything
to celebrate.

But I'm sure they'll be rutting in
the streets by daybreak.

They don't need any encouragement
from me.

Maybe the way they let off steam
is a bit loud, a bit vulgar,

but at least you can tell they're alive.

You stand there and you
look down your nose at everyone.

- You're no better than any of them.
- I didn't say that I was.

You don't have to.
It's the way you carry yourself.

Nobody's good enough.

No, there was one person.

But he lost his way.

You've leave outstanding.

Upstairs would like you to take it
before you go.

You don't have to come back in.

- You should've appointed Strange bagman.
- You think I didn't ask?

What a very smart man I married.

- You look terribly dashing.
- My dear, you were never lovelier.

Oh, I think I was.

Not to me.

And I should know.

Shall you be long?

Just trot up to Division.

A statement to the press.

Back in time for the six o'clock
news, and a lime juice and gin.

I'm very proud of you, Puli.

I thought I might buy a tree and
get our Christmas decorations up.

I don't want you going up into the attic.

There's no need.

- I had Robin do it for me.
- Robin?

That nice young man
with the faith healers.

He even tested the lights,
and they're working.

Oh, well, if Robin thinks so.

Then I shall nip out to Richardson's

and fetch you something special
for your supper.

Now, you're not to go to any fuss
on my account.

You've taken care of me so well
this past year,

these past years.

You've always looked after me.

And I always shall.

Good afternoon.

Thank you.

What is it? What's wrong?

Morse.

Darling.

I ordered champagne.

I hope that's all right.

A toast, I think.

What shall we drink to? Friendship?

Love?

Fidelity?

- Ludo...
- Quite right.

How remiss of me.

Of course, we should drink to you.

A rose between two thorns.

My darling wife.

You're not drinking.

What's, erm...?

What's going on?

There's no getting anything
past you, is there?

I was visiting a friend
at the Swedish embassy.

He had to take a meeting
with the Minister of Meatballs,

or whatever it might be,

so I thought, as I had time to kill,
I would call you.

I wanted to thank you
for your recent advice.

But I'm afraid I told a white lie.

- Oh, yes?
- I told the officer at Castle Gate

that I was a Swedish policeman

who needed to speak to you
as a matter of some urgency.

They gave me a number
where I could reach you.

Only, I was puzzled...

...because it was a number I recognised.

Pronto? Hello?

Who is this?

What...

was my wife doing
at the end of a telephone number

where I believed I could find you...

...and at an address known to me?

What was it you said?

"I'm sure it'll be all right.

"Just give her space."

So thoughtful.

Such concern.

What a friend.

What a pal.

We didn't mean to hurt you.

Oh, well, that's all right, then.

I mean, if you'd meant it,
that would be different, but...

- These things, they happen.
- Not to me.

The heart decides.

Does it?

I am sorry.

No.

You're not.

He knows now.

It's over.

You can come with me.

It's finished.

She is used to the finest, Morse.

A policeman?

Please...

I don't love you.

I don't feel anything for you.
I never did.

It was a mistake.

And there we are.

It's for the best, my love.

Detective Chief Inspector Thursday,
please.

Dorothea Frazil of the Oxford Mail.

Fred?

It's Dorothea.

Look, erm, if this has
come through to you already,

you know what I'm calling about.

If not...

...I thought you'd want to hear it
from me first.

Right.

A wonderful, marvellous spectacle,

the elephant covered in paint.

My wife holding its tether,

absolutely drenched from head to toe
with water from its trunk, you see?

If I might speak to you a moment, sir?

Yes, of course.

In your office, perhaps.

Really?

Well, yes. Yes.

Yes, of course, if you, er...
if you think that's best.

Excuse me.

Drink, hm?

Why not?

You know, I always took a dim view

of officers who took a drink
during the working day.

But the older I get,

I can see it's a practice not without...

It's your wife, sir.

Hm?

Dorothea Frazil
just telephoned my office.

There's been an accident.

- What?
- Your wife, sir.

Yes, I know, my wife, Mrs Bright.
What? What are you saying?

I'm very sorry, sir.

She seems to have been hanging
Christmas decorations.

She, er...

...looks to have taken a shock, sir.

An electric shock.

It's fatal, sir.

But...

But...

No, you see, I was only...

with her at home not an hour since.

- There must be some sort of...
- I'm very sorry, sir.

No, she'll be at home, you see. She'll...

I can soon straighten this out.