All language subtitles for Morse S01E02 - Silent World of Nicholas Quinn x264 RB58.eng

..making Arnold Hardy...

..then that idiot Dickie Bird
gets his light meter out...

..can only have four wives, surely?
The rest are concubines.

..they shall have to review what they had initially.

Very successful party, don't you think, Quinn?

Very successful party,
don't you think?

Very, Dr Bartlett. Yes, very successful.

Excuse me, Mrs Height.

May l introduce Mr Christopher Roope?

I toId you there wouIdn't be.

My son does not deserve to pass an exam.

You look as though you could do with
a breath of fresh air, Nicholas.

Philip... Philip, l must speak to you at once.

Please.

Bartlett is selling the Syndicate's secrets.

You're drunk.

No. No, l heard them...in there.

Roope and Bartlett and the Sheik.
They're all in it together.

Good. WeII done, girIs.

Good time.

Are you all right, Donald?

Fine. l got caught short.

All present and correct, Dr Bartlett.

Thank you, Donald.

Not bad. 1 5 seconds outside our record.

Everybody inside, please.

Would you mind if l skipped your usual homily
on safety and security, Tom?

l've got to get down to the press.

l think that the deputy secretary should be there,
Philip, if you don't mind.

lf there's nothing important, Lewis, l might as well
stay home, catch up on the paperwork.

Oh, yes. Yes, lots of it.

Yes, well, all right. You know where l am.

Cheers. Thanks.

Romantic clarinet concerto

Bloody Daedalus!

(Train rumbles in)

All change.

Hello. What's this?

The Dean of Lonsdale travelling second class?

Oh, Roope. You.

lf my publisher wants to see me,
he has to stump up a first-class return.

There's money in physics, no doubt.

- Chemistry, actually.
- Really?

There's none in palaeontology, alas.

What did you make of the party the other night?

lt was very satisfactory.
The Sheik was delighted with the Syndicate.

l'm just on my way over there now
to give some bumf to Bartlett.

- Can l give you a lift in my taxi?
- No, thank you.

As a Syndic, l do think our president
should travel in proper style.

l always walk to college, Roope.

- Looks like rain.
- l have my umbrella.

Foreign Examinations Syndicate, please.

Hello, Noakes. ls Dr Bartlett in?

No, sir, he's gone to Banbury.

He won't be back till gone five.

Right.

l'll have a word with one of the others.

l don't think there's anyone else here, sir...
except Mr Quinn.

lt'll have to be him, then.

Not there?

No.

He must be somewhere, sir.
Car's still out the back.

Dear, oh, dear. The secretary wouldn't like that.

He's not supposed to leave his office
with the filing cabinet open.

- Dear me.
- All sorts come in here. You'd be surprised.

- We can't be too careful.
- lndeed not.

I can't wait.

I onIy came to Ieave some papers for Dr BartIett.

It's not important. I'II Ieave them on his desk.

l was just going to make a cup of tea, sir,
if you'd like one.

No, thank you. l must be off.

Thanks all the same.

- Shall l call you a cab, sir?
- No, l'll be all right. Cheerio.

Bye, sir.

Symphony ln D

Hell!

Hello. Morse.

What?

What the bloody hell...?

Well, where are you?

Right, l'll meet you there.

Excuse me, sir.
Here comes the Chief lnspector now.

Who is it, Lewis?

A chap caIIed Quinn, sir.
Been dead a good whiIe

by the look of him.

Works for the...Foreign Examinations Syndicate.

- Worked.
- Sir?

Worked, Lewis. He's dead, isn't he?

Nice place.

They do themselves all right,

these academics, don't they?

Did.

ls Max here?

Looking at him now, sir.

Don't fret yourself, Morse.

He went quick enough.

Take a whiff of that.

Cyanide?

Well done, Morse. You're coming on.

How long's he been dead, Max?

Don't know. Four or five days.

Did it Friday night/Saturday morning,
at a guess.

Shall know more accurately
when we've been through the stomach.

- Anything?
- No, just his prints all over the place.

What about on that bottle?

They look the same as all the others.

ls it all right if we move the body now, sir?

Better go through the pockets.
You do that, Max, would you?

Getting squeamish, Morse?

Oh, by the way...

..he wore a hearing aid.

History.

And what is his story, l wonder?

A note from his cleaning lady.

Might help us establish the time of death.

Nothing much here.

All right, take him away.

Shut the door, Lewis.

ls there a draught under that door?

Bit of a one, yeah.

That's funny.

lf l sat in this room, l wouldn't sit in a draught.
Would you?

What's this?

- His shopping.
- ls there a bill?

We might be able to establish some sort of time
from that, Lewis.

Oh, and we'd better have a list
of all the food in the house.

Fridge, larder, cupboards.

Everything.

Who's this bloke who found him?

Mr Martin, sir.
One of his chums from the Foreign whatsit.

Chums, Lewis? You know Morse's Law.

There's always a 50:50 chance
that the man who found the body did the deed.

Well, l was going to arrest him on the spot, sir,
but l thought l'd let you have the pleasure.

You'd better check these pockets, too.

Tango 1-7...

Roger, 1-7. Stand by.

- Mr Martin, Chief lnspector Morse.
- How do you do?

- Must've been a shock for you.
- lt certainly was.

May l ask what brought you here
to see him this morning, sir?

Dr Bartlett sent me.

The secretary of the Syndicate, my...our boss.

Quinn didn't turn up for work yesterday.
When he didn't turn up this morning...

Why was no-one bothered yesterday?

Oh, well...
Dr Bartlett doesn't insist on office hours,

as long as we get our work done on time,
you know.

And what did you expect to find, sir?

l didn't expect to find anything.

l mean... l don't know.

l suppose l thought he must be ill or something.

When l looked through the gap in the curtains

and saw him lying there...

Yes.

Thank you very much. l expect you want
to report back to the Syndicate.

- You mean l can go now?
- Oh, yes.

Thank you for your help. ls that your car there?

Yes.

You don't happen to know
if Mr Quinn had a girlfriend, do you?

l've no idea. l didn't know him that well.

He's... He'd only been with us three months.

No-one he fancied in the office?

Not that l know of.

But he was a bachelor, l take it?

- Oh, yes.
- Are you a married man, sir?

Yes.

Then l expect you've forgotten
what it's like to be single.

What do you mean?

Nothing, nothing.

Oh, l see. You're looking for a reason.

- A reason, sir?
- Why he shouId want to do himseIf in.

Oh, it wasn't suicide, sir.
No, no, no, no. lt was murder.

DefiniteIy murder.

- What are these examinations you run, sir?
- O-levels and A-levels,

but for students in foreign countries, you see.

Don't these countries
have their own examination boards?

The large, developed ones, yes, but there are
many places - you'd be surprised how many -

where they're still grateful for the expertise
and the status that Oxford can offer.

So you're a service industry, are you, sir?

We're of...very great service,
if that's what you mean, lnspector.

Examinations are a matter of life and...

You see, in some parts of the world,
passing our exams is the only way forward.

They can make the difference
between abject poverty and extreme wealth.

We take our responsibilities here
with the utmost seriousness.

lndeed so, sir.

Let me show you what l mean.

Question papers alone
go through at least five stages.

For instance...

next December's biology papers.

First draft, second draft,

first proofs, first revises,

second revises.

Everything is checked and double-checked

for absolute fairness.

Our Syndics keep a very close eye on us.

- Syndics?
- Our board of governors, you might say.

All distinguished members of the university.

So, you see, we have to have
absolute security at every stage.

lf even one draft question were to go astray,

the integrity of the whole syndicate
would be undermined.

l had no idea.

Oh, well... You'll find, l'm sure,
during the course of your investigations,

that l've got something of a reputation
as a stickler for security in all its aspects.

Fire and theft.

ln fact, l'm fairly sure
it was at the fire drill last Friday...

..that l last saw poor Nicholas Quinn.

Yes, he was certainly there.
He ticked his name off on the list.

How well did you know him, sir?

Not as well as l should have liked, really.

Of course, he hadn't been here long.

- And his deafness did make things difficult.
- How deaf was he?

The prognosis was he would have been
completely so in five years.

Rather a curious appointment, then, wasn't it?

Well, you know, apart from the telephone,
you could hardly tell. He coped amazingly.

At work, that is.
l know very little about his social life.

And you last saw him...?

It must have been...

at the fire drill. l don't think l saw him after that.

No, l had a meeting, in Banbury,
of headmasters.

And what time did you leave the office?

As soon as the fire drill was over.

l had to get down to the press.

What time was that, wouId you say, sir?

Well, the drill was at 1 2.

By the time Bartlett had given us
his usual address, it was...

- 1 5, 20 minutes past.
- And you didn't see Mr Quinn again?

Alas, not.

Hello, darling. You are home. Good. Listen...

Really? Oh, Lord.

Listen, Sally, l'm going to be a bit late, l'm afraid.

Well, l'm still at the Syndicate.

Oh, not very long, l hope.

No.

AII right, darIing.
I just didn't want you to worry, that's aII. Bye.

(Phone receiver is replaced on hook)

Not that she wouId worry, I'm sure.

- How oId is your daughter, Mrs Height?
- 16.

Really?

I married young, Inspector.

Much too young,
if it's anything to do with your enquiries.

Background information can always be useful.

What age did you marry, then?

l didn't.

Very wise.

- l don't always think so.
- Take my word for it.

Mr Quinn was wise, then.

He never married.

No.

Did he er...

Did he ever raise the issue with you?

Good heavens, no!

We didn't know each other very well.

He hadn't been here long.

Did he never ask you out, then?

No... Well, we did go to the pub together,
once or twice.

- For lunch, you know.
- Which pub?

Horse & Trumpet, up the road.

So, you quite liked him?

WeII, he was a coIIeague, you know...

not a cIose friend.

And you last saw him

at the fire drill?

l think so.

lt's ridiculous. Only five days ago,
but l can't seem to fix it, when and where.

- lt can happen like that if you've had a shock.
- Can it?

Can you at least remember
what he had to drink?

Sherry. Medium, l think.

That's better than the stuff
that passes for ale in there.

Of that l wouldn't know. l don't drink much
at the best of times and never at lunch.

l like to be in complete command of myself
when l'm working, lnspector.

Really?

l like to let go. l always drink at lunch time.

lt helps my imagination.

l'm sorry.

It's the shock, sir. DeIayed shock.

ls it?

You know...
l'm not sure l saw Quinn last Friday at all.

l just can't remember.

We'II Ieave it for now, then, sir.

lf it does come back to you...

Of course.

- Good night.
- Good night, madam.

Good night.

Some peopIe get aII the perks.

Very interesting woman. Very...

Very...

seIf-possessed.

Get anything out of her?

- He liked sherry.
- We knew that.

No, no. We only thought we knew it.

Chief lnspector, the keys you wanted
to Quinn's office and his filing cabinets.

Thank you.

You will remember that the material
in those cabinets is strictly confidential?

Yes. Don't worry, sir,
l got my A-levels 30 years ago.

And...you will remember to lock everything
after you've...?

Oh, yes, we will. Won't we, Lewis?

Yes, sir.

- Good night, gentlemen.
- Good night, sir.

Good night, sir.

Thank God for that.
Come on, we've got work to do.

- Anything interesting?
- Don't think so.

His predecessor's stuff, mostly.

A bloke called Bland.

Bland?

Good name for a villain - Bland.

So that explains it.

What?

He went for Iip-reading cIasses.

Headington Tech.

That's what explains this.

- What?
- l couldn't get this drawer open properly.

What does AED stand for?

Al-Jamara Education Department?

How the hell do you know that?

They do a lot of business with Al-Jamara,
wherever that may be.

lt's the Gulf, Lewis, the Gulf.

Wait a minute. What the hell's going on here?

Where?

This letter, Lewis,
this strictly private and confidential letter,

about the perfectly ordinary dispatch
of entry forms for exams,

is dated May the 3rd this year, isn't it?

Yeah.

Why does it say they have to be in
by Friday the 20th?

Friday was the 21 st, Lewis.

He made a mistake about the date, l expect.

Oh, no, he didn't.

''All entry forms and fee forms

should be ready for the final dispatch
to the Syndicate by Friday the 20th,

or at the very latest, l'm told, by the 21 st.''

Fat chance. Academics working on a Saturday?

ln bloody Arabia?
You read that carefully and you'll see.

l said it was murder. Well, l was bloody well right.

lt's schoolboy-simple, Lewis. lt's an acrostic.

Read the words down instead of across.

Dear greetings letter all for...

The end of the lines, not the beginning.

- George. Your package ready Friday 21 st.
- You see?

Room 3 after lunch.

- Good God!
- Now, that was private and confidential.

Ah, but Quinn wasn't called George.

But Bland was. Bland is.

But he didn't clear out his cabinet properly
before he went off to Al-Jamara.

Yes, Mr George Bland is a villain, you see.

But careless, Lewis.

Careless.

All the same...

- All the same what?
- Even if something fishy was going on...

- lf? lf?
- We don't know Quinn knew anything about it.

Then why was he murdered?

Well, we don't know that he was murdered.

Cyanide is what people do take for suicide,
if they can get hold of it.

lt's quick...

lt's what we're supposed to think, Lewis.
That's why we don't think it.

You know where the drinks are.
Pour us a couple of sherries.

Do you mind if l have a beer, sir?

lf you ever want to reach the dizzy heights
of inspector, Lewis, learn to do as you're told.

Sherry.

Nice pIace, this.

Glad you like it.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

l wish l had time to read books.

- Well, you haven't. You're dead.
- What?

l put cyanide in the sherry.

Well, then you're dead, too.

No, l'm not. l haven't touched mine.

Oh, God, and they're my prints on the bottle.

All l have to do is pour the sherry down the sink,
wash the glass, put it back in the cupboard and...

Suicide.

- ExactIy.
- Someone still has to get in to poison the bottle.

Not necessarily. Someone could have
given Quinn the bottle as a present.

You don't give people opened bottles, though.

And you couIdn't reseaI a bottIe of sherry.
WeII, I couIdn't, anyway.

Eugh.

l can't think on this stuff.

Let's go and have a proper drink, shall we?

(Buzz of conversation)

There you go. That'll be �1 .98, please.

Thanks.

Cheers.

l want to know what Quinn's colleagues
were doing on Friday afternoon.

- All right.
- But l want them to know l want to know.

- But if you do that...
- They'll all have their stories ready. Precisely.

Let's see what they cook up.

All right, so whoever killed Quinn
will have a pretty good alibi for last Friday.

That should help, l admit.

lf Quinn was killed on Friday.

Wasn't he?

l don't know. Do you?

Come on. Drink up, Lewis.
We've got thinking to do.

Sir! You can't park there, sir!

That's Dr Bartlett's place.

- l'm sure he won't mind.
- He will. He gets very upset...

Well, where the hell can l park?

You can have Mr Quinn's space, l suppose.

He won't be wanting it, will he?

When did you last see Mr Quinn?

Ten to five last Friday, sir.

What?

l watched him back his car out of his space there
and drive off home.

Are you sure?
Couldn't it have been someone else?

No, l know all the cars.

Anyway, Mr Quinn's was the only one there
that afternoon.

- Really?
- Yes, sir. l said to Mr Roope...

- Who?
- Mr Roope, one of the Syndics.

He came looking for Dr Bartlett.
He'd got some papers for him,

but, of course, Dr Bartlett was over at Banbury.

- We looked in all the offices but no-one was in.
- You said Quinn was here.

He was, sir. l don't know where, but he must
have been somewhere. His coat was there.

- What sort of coat?
- That oId anorak of his.

AIways wore it when it was, Iike, wet,
you know.

And it was wet Friday.

Why l know he was here was,
he left one of his filing cabinets open.

They're not supposed to do that, staff. Not ever.

- Dr BartIett's particuIar about them cabinets.
- Why would he have done it?

Just stepped down the hall, l suppose.

- A call of nature.
- Very interesting, Lewis.

The only member of staff here
last Friday afternoon was Quinn himself.

- He was?
- Oh, yes.

He backed his car out of his space there...

l was over there in my...

Well, l call it my cubbyhole, see.

- Dr Bartlett, he...
- Quinn was here.

Till ten to five.

That's a good start, anyway.

Yes. Come on.

Jukebox plays pop music

Not good for the brain cells.

Brewer's swipes and added carbon dioxide?

No. What can l get you to drink?

lt is after working hours.

Cinzano and soda, please.

Are you sure?

Positive. Lots of soda.

- Cinzano and soda, please.
- lce and lemon?

Please, and lots of soda.

l understand you want to know
where people were last Friday afternoon.

Yes. Yes, l do.

l expect you'd have found out sooner or later
anyway, but l was with someone.

l know.

Your place, l presume.

There's no such thing as a secret, Mrs Height.
Not that I've ever come across.

lt didn't need too much beer to tell me that if he's
a married man and your daughter's at school...

Congratulations.

l suppose Donald told you.

- He's ever so proud of having an affair.
- How long has it been going on,

- you and DonaId?
- A year. 1 4 months.

Does it really matter?

l don't know.

Was Quinn jealous?

Why do you keep going on about him?
He had nothing to do with it.

So,

you went off at Iunch time, right?

Together?

Of course not.

And you went to your pIace?

Yes. And he left at...

I don't know. Fourish.

SaIIy's usuaIIy back by quarter past, so...

Why do you have to know all this?

l don't know yet. Perhaps l don't.

But...

That's it?

Yes, that's absolutely it.

She's not telling the truth.

l don't know why, and l don't know what about,
but she's not telling the truth.

Check her out with her boyfriend?

Or perhaps it's not the whole truth.

l do hope this is not going to be
one of our sordid cases, Lewis.

As president of the Board of Syndics,

l shall do everything in my power
to see the Syndicate is not damaged.

l'm sorry this unfortunate young man
should choose to kill himself.

l don't think he did, sir.

l remain unpersuaded.

Nothing you said convinces me
that his death is in any way connected

with the activities of the Syndicate as such.

How long have you been president, sir?

Six years.

Would you say that the Syndicate's been
a happy place all that time?

As far as one can judge. Certainly very efficient.
Made very great progress.

No little jealousies or personal animosities?

Well, any academic institution, you know.

WouId you Iike to give an exampIe, sir?

These are internal matters.
l don't see what concern they can be to you.

No trouble about promotions?
That's the sort of thing we get in our job.

Ogleby was disappointed we passed him over
in favour of Bartlett, if that's what you mean.

- lf you're suggesting...
- l wasn't suggesting anything.

What about Mrs Height?

ln the late 20th century, lnspector,

we are obliged to give women equal status
in the academic world.

She seemed rather attractive to me.

Did Mr Quinn think so?

Quinn? Good God, no, it wasn't...

There's no need for all of this to come out,
is there?

All depends.

What time did you say you left her house?

About four, I suppose.

And you didn't go near the office?

No. No, l came straight here.

A nice surprise for the wife -

hubby home early.

l've only...

There's only ever been Monica.

Are you in love with her?

Oh, God.

l don't know.

This business has just about put paid to it,
anyway.

LEWlS: You were right, sir.
- Shh.

1 2 minutes. Not bad.

Not the record, but not bad.
What did you say?

They weren't at Mrs Height's.
Her daughter was there revising for O-levels.

Then she was lying.

Why, Lewis, why?

What do you make of all this stuff
we got from Quinn's pockets?

- Not a lot.
- No, nor me.

l wonder if he won the raffle.

What about this? ''Rear lounge,

102, number 93550.''

- Cinema ticket.
- That's funny.

Why two lots of numbers on one ticket?

Fool.

That's not ''1 02''. That's half of ''Studio 2''.
l-O 2.

l wonder what's on there. Give me the paper.

No, not The Times, Lewis. The local paper.

Now, this is interesting.

Have you ever seen this?

No.

Me neither.

My doctor says l should lose some weight,

stop eating butter, start eating polyunsaturates,
whatever they are.

Not quite the same, though, is it, Lewis?

l can't tell you exactly, but this is one of the first
tickets that was issued last Friday afternoon.

Doors open 1 :1 5
and there's usually half a dozen or so waiting.

- l'm not surprised.
- Yes. lt's a popular film.

- We've held it over a second week.
- Held it over what?

Would you like free seats, lnspector?

That's very kind of you,
but my sergeant's a little too young,

to say nothing of being a married man.

Most of our customers are married.

You know, you've just reminded me
of something.

Now, l don't know if this is of any interest to you,

but l was only saying the same thing
to a gentleman last week.

A detective story writer. He wanted to know
about our ticket numbers, too.

- When was this?
- Just a minute, l'll think.

Friday or Saturday, I think.

What did he look like?

l didn't meet him. lt was a phone call.

MORSE: What sort of voice?

A nice voice.

l do remember that...
Educated, if you know what l mean.

- And he didn't give you a name?
- No.

No, he just launched straight into the subject.

You know, l'm almost certain it was Friday.

There is a lot of story writers live in Oxford, sir.

This isn't a story. lt's a bloody murder, Lewis!

But who the hell wants to know
what we want to know?

We do.

You didn't get a lot out of Ogleby, did you?

TamnavuIin?

One of the finest of all malt whiskies, lnspector.

Close to Glenlivet.

Really?

One of the few true pleasures
of the bachelor life,

as l am sure you have found for yourself...

..is the opportunity for guiltless self-indulgence.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Mm. Very nice.

Do you often bring your work home?

Oh, that's not work, that's my other secret vice.

l set crosswords.

Do you? Which paper?

Different papers, but always the same name.
Daedalus.

He built the great maze of Greek legend,
you know.

You're Daedalus?
l've been wrestling with you for years.

- Really?
- Yes. And a right sod

you are too, sometimes.

l once spent a whole day
on one of your ''five downs''.

Well, l do try to be just a little bit cleverer
than the solver, you see.

l always try to make ''five down'' just a little tricky.

Who told you l wasn't married? Mrs Height?

No.

But what an attractive woman, don't you think?

lf l wasn't as comfortable as l am...

But a woman would get in the way of my work.
That's my excuse. What's yours?

No woman would put up with me.

l play my records too loud.

You could get her earplugs.

Who did tell you?

l looked you up. No need to ''chercher la femme''.
l like to do my own legwork.

Did you think l might ask
some awkward questions, then?

No. My conscience is clear.

I wanted to see who you were,
if you were up to thejob.

Now that l know you do my crosswords,
of course...

How can l help you?

l want to know how to cheat the system,

how to nobble the exams
without getting caught.

Not easy.

We keep exact records
of how each school does year by year.

If the average suddenIy changes, weII...

Crooked examiners?

No.

Everything's checked by randomIy-chosen

second examiners.

That might work in EngIand, but abroad...?

We have our own foreign centres...
and our own supervisors.

Like Mr George Bland?
Quinn's predecessor.

An ideaI man.

All the right connections,

- here and in the MiddIe East.
- Connections for what?

For overseeing examinations.

What did you think l meant?

What if he were crooked?

Oh, well. lf the man at the top in any organisation
falls by the wayside...

He could leak the exams in advance.

Only to one or two people at the most,

or we'd catch him at once.

It wouId have to be made
very much worth his whiIe.

And who could afford to do that?

Got any suspicions, sir?

- Of what?
- Someone cheating.

Suspicions of cheating? No.

Well...

Just what did you do after you Ieft
the university press Iast Friday, sir?

l went back to the office.

- l got there about half past three.
- And left?

About five.

- Are you quite sure about that?
- AbsoIuteIy.

As l understand it, the only person there
that afternoon was Mr Quinn.

Then you understand wrong. l was in
the Syndicate building till after five o'clock.

Another TamnavuIin?

l find malt whisky

helps me think.

Excuse me. l'm looking for Mr Roope's room.

Oh, yes. Just go through the archway
and it's the second on the right.

Thanks.

l'm sorry, l was looking for Mr Roope.

lnspector Morse? l am Roope.

Come in.

lt's not just the policemen getting younger,
you know.

Sorry I have no beer.

Oh, that's all right, sir.

An awful business, this.

Of course, l hardly knew the chap.

You are sure it wasn't suicide?

Oh, yes.

l thought he might be, well...

the suicidal type.

Very lonely being deaf.

lt must be.

Right...

Well, you want to know my movements.

l took the 8:05 to Paddington.

l got to my publisher's before they did.

- New book, sir?
- My magnum opus.

IndustriaI chemistry.

Roused them up a bit,

then l went to the National Portrait Gallery
for illustrations.

Famous chemists and so on.

Then I had some Iunch, took the 3:07 back here.

l took a taxi to the Syndicate.
l got there about 4:30.

There was no-one about. Only Noakes.

So l left some papers l had for Bartlett
on his desk and l came home.

You didn't see anyone else there?

Only Noakes.
l looked in all the rooms. He did, too.

- You didn't see Mr Martin or Mr Ogleby?
- No.

Quinn was around somewhere, we decided.

But we didn't actually see him.

He'd left a filing cabinet open.

Bartlett would have given him hell for that.

Bit of a sod, you know, BartIett.

Very...conscientious, l believe.

- You could call it that.
- Don't you Iike him, sir?

Not much.

Bartlett didn't want Quinn.
He thought his deafness would be a handicap.

l'm all for positive discrimination.

l pushed him through.

Now, of course...

Quite certain it wasn't suicide?

Poor chap.

Could l...

Could we leave this until lnspector Morse
gets here, Sergeant?

Well, he's asked me to conduct this interview.

All right.

So you've talked to my daughter?

Yes, madam.

So where were you?

l lied to you, lnspector, because it...

Well, l was ashamed, if you really want to know.

We were in a lay-by on the Banbury Road.

Really?

l didn't know Studio 2 was out that way.

ShaII we have the truth now, Mrs Height?

l'm sorry. lt's just so...

so...

so very...

So very sordid -
carrying on in a pornographic cinema.

- But you had some idea?
- Well, l tried to ignore it.

Well, yes, but that's where they were.

But what you say about Bland, lnspector,
now that truly appals me.

Meistersinger. Which recording is that?

l'm afraid l wouldn't know.
lt's my son Richard who's the Wagnerian.

WAGNER: Die Meistersinger Von Nurnberg

Richard!

There has to be someone this end, obviously.

l can't believe that anyone...

Someone passing the stuff on to Bland.

Now, it can't be Martin.

He's too wet.

And he's too busy with Monica.

And not her...

lt has to be Ogleby.

Oh, l can't believe...

Well, a man not getting any younger,

passed over in favour of you, wants to make
a bit of cash before it's too late.

And take a little sweet revenge.

God, he practically confessed to me.

- Hello?

Who?

What?

Oh, yes, right. l'll fetch him.

Well, Quinn didn't think it was Ogleby.

What?

Excuse me!
You're wanted on the telephone, lnspector.

Thank you. What did you say?

He rang me on the Thursday night.

l thought he was drunk. He had some
wild story... What l thought was a wild story.

He accused me of selling our exams
to the Sheik of Al-Jamara.

Richard! I'm terribIy sorry, darIing.

But you...

Richard... Well, he suffers...

lt's his balance.

lt's his emotional balance.

l'd better take that call.

- lt's in the hall.
- Thank you.

Morse here. Oh, Lewis. Yes?

What?

Echo 5-1, 5-1 Echo...

Lewis tells me this is your prime suspect, Morse.

lt seems someone got your man before you did.

When do you think
they'll let me see Monica Height?

l don't know.

- Not before tomorrow morning.
- Hell.

She's in deep shock, Morse.
And no bloody wonder.

What was she doing here?

- l don't know.
- How did she get in?

lt looks like it was someone he knew.

Her?

Sir...

Look, l'm in shock, too.

Have one yourself.

His heirs will forgive you.

No, thanks.

- Of course, it doesn't mean he didn't kill Quinn.
- No?

We've been supposing there's only one villain
here at the Syndicate,

passing on exam secrets to Bland
in Al-Jamara for sale to whoever.

But maybe they were all in it.
All except Quinn, of course. The new boy.

He found out,
accused Bartlett of being part of it...

- Did he?
- Yes.

The thing is, who else did he tell?

Ogleby, perhaps.

Ogleby takes action...

Why's Ogleby dead now, then?

See, according to Morse's Law, sir,

there's a 50% chance Mrs Height did him in.

Shut up, Lewis.

Look at this.

Glaister and Rintoul.

The Poisoner's Bible.

Medical Jurisprudence And Toxicology
to you, Lewis, if you want to make inspector.

Good grief, he's even marked the page.
Cyanide.

So he did kill Nicholas Quinn.

Or did he?

Did he?

How could he have done?

He set the best crosswords in England.

l emptied his pockets for you, Morse,
knowing your...sensitivity.

Oh, by the way, your friend was murdered.

He was killed by a blow of considerable force,
probably administered by a right-handed man.

The central impact was approximately
five centimetres above the occipital bone

and two to the right of the parietal foramen.

That should give you something to go on.

Man, you say?

l said ''probably''. Good night, Morse.

Night, Lewis.

Good night, sir.

This lot's not much help.

Look at this, though.

That's Quinn's cinema ticket.

Why on earth should he want to draw that?

lf it is his ticket. What was the number?

9-3-5-5-0.

l don't understand.

''No human action happens by pure chance
unconnected with other happenings.''

''And none is incapable of explanation.''

Dr Hans Gross, Professor of Criminology,
University of Prague.

All right, so you know my favourite quotations.

Now, how about some explanation?

- And you're absolutely...
- Two murders...

and a very nasty case of bribery and corruption.

lsn't there anything we could...

That's the end of the Syndicate.

You had a party, I understand,

for the Sheik of Al-Jamara.

What? Oh, yes.

Al-Jamara was our pride and joy.

Was there anything at that party, anything at all,

which now strikes you as reIevant?

No, l don't think so.

Except...now l come to think of it,

l did see Quinn and Ogleby leaving together.

Do you realise, if you'd told me this before,
Ogleby might still be alive.

You didn't ask me.

l didn't know.

You should have told me of your suspicions.

l tried to. You didn't want to hear.

l've no alibi whatever.

l didn't even dine in hall.

l worked on proofs all evening
and had an lndian meal at about 1 1 o'clock.

Sorry.

That's no trouble, sir.

Not to me.

Not too long, now. She's still very shaky.

Right.

Hello.

Hello.

Are you feeling any better?

A bit.

- l keep seeing...
- l know. Yes, it's awful, terrible.

l know.

There.

Would you like me to give you a hand?
lt's quite difficult today.

''Thirteen across'' held me up
for quite some time.

Three minutes.

Are you good at crosswords?

Not bad.

l like all sorts of puzzles...

brain-teasers,
anything where you have to use your logic.

My weakness is guesswork.

l leap to conclusions...sometimes.

UsuaIIy wrong.

You want to know what l was doing
at Philip Ogleby's?

lf you don't mind.

l was coming to cook his dinner.

Ah.

You thought he was the complete bachelor?

Well, he was...but the old-fashioned sort.

He couldn't boil an egg.

WeII, I expect he couId, but...

You had a key?

Yes.

How long had this been going on?

Oh, since his old cleaning lady left.

She used to Ieave food for him to warm up.
But the new one...

l'm sorry, but...

Was that aII there was to it?

No, of course not.

He was my greatest friend in Oxford,

the only person l could talk to about...

about...

Donald Martin.

..about my life, about life.

He was...

l can't tell you how much l'm going to miss him.

Any idea who or why?

Just one more question.

When you and Donald Martin
went to the cinema last Friday,

- did you see OgIeby there?
- No.

No-one came in while you were there?

Not that l recognised.

All right.

l've done most of the difficult ones

for you.

Thanks.

And thanks for coming. l've...

l've been so frightened. l keep thinking...

Suppose the man, whoever did it,

suppose he was still in the house?

l...

What would have happened to Sally?

There, there.

Oh.

Ah, Mr Martin,just the man I want to see.

Oh, l was just going to see...

She's not seeing any more visitors for a while.

- What? Who said?
- l did. Can l give you a lift somewhere?

- Look, l was told...
- You were told wrong. My car's over here.

So you really do love her?

Yes.

And does she love you?

How would l know?

Not knowing is half the attraction, lnspector.

As you'd realise, if you've ever been in love.

Yes, it's all that...

Well, it keeps it on the boil.

People fall in love with what they can't have.

Don't they teach you that much in the ClD?

They teach us enough, Mr Martin.

Does your wife know about the affair?

No...

At Ieast, I don't think so.

I'm fairIy sure not.

Sure or only fairIy sure?

No man is absolutely sure of his wife, lnspector,

as you'd know if you were married.

Why did you lie about last Friday?

Monica thought it sounded less sordid.

So you were at that film?

- Oh, yes.
- See anyone you knew there?

No.

Sure or only fairly sure?

Absolutely certain.

All right, you can see her now.

Oh, thanks.

Thanks a lot.

They were there aII right.
They saw someone and they're not saying who.

Quinn.

That's the obvious solution, yes.

lt won't have been Ogleby. He phoned
the manageress for information, if you ask me.

Where did he get to see and copy Quinn's ticket,
and when?

Back at the office. lt's where he said he was,

and where Quinn's anorak was, and it was
in the anorak that we found Quinn's ticket.

God, you're right.

- Right about what?
- Yes.

Yes, you've done it again, Lewis.

That's where we found the ticket.
That's where we were meant to find it.

Yes, that's it.

Quinn didn't go to the cinema at all.

- Oh, but...
- WeII, he couIdn't, you fooI.

He was dead already.

That's her, sir.

Mrs Evans? Hello, l'm Chief lnspector Morse.

- You know Sergeant Lewis.
- Hello, Mrs Evans.

Anything strike you about the room, Mrs Evans?

That chair.
Someone's gone and moved that chair.

He'd never sit there.
Well, no-one would. lt's right in a draught.

That chair belongs over there.

No, nothing funny there.

Oh, my Lord!

This milk's off.

Now, what did he want to go and buy that for?

What's that, Mrs Evans?

Salted butter. He never ate salted butter.

Fussy about that, he was.

And he's got a whole pound of unsalted
here already.

- Look.
- Lewis?

- Sir?
- The shopping.

- SaIted butter, was that in Quinn's shopping?
- l think so, yeah.

Then it wasn't Quinn's shopping, was it?

Did l say something?

You're forgetting Noakes the caretaker.

He saw Quinn leave the Syndicate at ten to five.

No, he didn't. He saw Quinn's car
leave the Syndicate.

- The driver was wearing Quinn's anorak.
- lt was raining, he wanted to look like Quinn.

- He?
- Or she.

l haven't ruled out she.

Where are we going now?

We're going to prove me wrong, l hope.

- About what?
- About Ogleby killing Quinn.

Philip Ogleby hadn't long to live.

Less than a year, l'd say.

What was it?

Brain tumour. InoperabIe.

- Did he know?
- Oh, yes.

l always tell my patients.

ln any case, l could never have kept it from him.

He had a very enquiring sort of mind.

He thought he knew more about his case
than l did.

- A doctor's nightmare.
- Was he in pain, sir?

- He would have been, eventually.
- Did he know that?

He knew everything. lf he was working on
his own murder, he'd have the case sewn up.

Not that l mean that you...

Would you say he was the sort of man
to take his own life?

When he'd had enough, I mean.

Possibly...yes, very possibly.

But nothing messy. Something simple
and inconveniencing others very little.

What would you have recommended, Doctor?

He wouldn't have needed my advice.

He knew all about cyanide, l'm sure.

The trouble with my method, Lewis,
is it's inspirational.

And, as a result, l sometimes...sometimes...

get things arse-about-face.

- Yes, sir.
- However, this case is crystal clear now.

l shall make an arrest tomorrow morning.

You can't do that. You've got to go to the inquest.

l'll make the arrest immediately after the inquest.

- What if he's not there?
- Oh, he or she will be there, all right.

He or she is a witness.

Thanks, darling.

What time will you be home, Donald?

Usual time, l imagine.
Unless they decide to arrest me.

- Morning, Martin.
- Morning.

l'm absolutely positive. Just relax.

All present and correct except Monica.

All rise.

Where the bloody hell is she?

Mr Bartlett asked me to go to Mr Quinn's house
to see if he was all right.

When l got there,
l could see the curtains were still drawn.

But l could see through where they didn't meet
very well that Quinn was lying on the carpet.

So l went and phoned the police.

The smallest dose of cyanide to prove fatal
is a half drachm of pharmacopoeial acid,

or 0.6 grams of anhydrous hydrocyanic acid.

ln this case, the cyanide was administered
in the form of anhydrous hydrocyanic acid,

mixed with sherry.

Postmortem appearances were such
as to lead me to believe

that death must have occurred
almost immediately.

Chief lnspector, l believe you're in charge of
the investigation into the death of Mr Quinn.

Yes, sir.

Are you prepared to indicate to the court
the present state of your enquiries?

Not yet, sir.

l'd like to request
the inquest be adjourned for a fortnight.

Am l to understand by that that your enquiries
are likely to be completed by that time?

Yes, sir.

Am I right in saying
that no arrest has yet been made?

Yes, sir.

WiII a fortnight be sufficient time
to compIete your investigation?

I beIieve so, sir. An arrest is imminent.

As a matter of fact, I have a warrant here.

And although it may be unusual to introduce
a touch of melodrama into your court, sir,

l should like, with your permission, to execute it
immediately after the adjournment of the inquest,

- if, of course, you aIIow the adjournment.
- Very weII.

l declare this inquest adjourned for two weeks.

All rise.

Christopher Algernon Roope,
l have here a warrant for your arrest

in connection with the murder of Nicholas Quinn.

- It is my duty to teII you...
- Are you quite mad?

- l hope you'll be sensible, sir.
- You're making the most absurd mistake.

- l hope you realise...
- Let's keep all that till later.

This way, sir.

l should have been quicker.
You gave me the clue, sir, that first day.

- l did?
- You said you were a stickler for security.

Everyone confirmed that.

And yet there was Quinn, who'd only been
in the place a couple of months...

Three. Three months.

- Would you say he was a conscientious man?
- Oh, yes.

Always left a note to say where he was going,
that sort of thing?

He was extremely scrupulous.

And yet apparently...
apparently that Friday afternoon,

he broke all the Law and the Prophets.
He committed the sin against the Holy Ghost.

- lnspector, please.
- He left a filing cabinet open.

A cabinet full of exam questions.

Now, either he was idle and careless...

He wasn't that, not at all.

Then it was entirely uncharacteristic of him
to do it.

So he didn't do it. Someone else did it.

Someone else who then came back

and drew Noakes's attention
to this uncharacteristic breach of security.

That Quinn was in the buiIding was confirmed
by the presence of his anorak.

DEAN: I don't understand. Where was Quinn?
- In the car park.

ln the boot of his car all the time.

- What...?
- I'm sorry, gentIemen,

l must get back to the station
to hear what Mr Roope has to say for himself.

lt's all a question of logic, you know.

Just the application of logic.

Right, Lewis, where have we got him?

lnterview Room 1 , sir.

Right, whatever you do, don't interrupt.

Just keep your mouth shut and your face
straight, even if you think l'm quite barmy.

- Right, sir.
- Good.

Does that mean you've arrested him
on inspiration, sir?

l don't know what you're talking about.

No?

Do you know what's been the trouble
with this case, Lewis?

Everyone's been so damned clever.

It began weII, though, didn't it?

Everything just as you planned.

You said good night to Noakes,

walked out of the Syndicate,
disappeared down the road,

turned round and came back again.

Noakes obligingly went off to make a cup of tea,

you went quietly in,

along to Quinn's office, put on his anorak,

crept out the back,

got into his own car using his own keys,
and drove off.

The ever-obliging Noakes
even saw you out of the window.

Thought you were Quinn himself.

You then drove to Quinn's cottage,
stopping to shop on the way.

Two steaks, to make it look as if he had a guest.

A mysterious, unseen guest,
who poisoned him and then vanished.

Very, very ingenious...

..except you didn't check his fridge.

You bought butter.

He had plenty of butter already.

And you bought salted.

He never touched salted butter.

Silly mistake, really.

Overreached yourself, l'm afraid.

lf anyone's overreaching themselves, it's you.

l've never heard such elaborate nonsense
in my life.

- There's more to come.
- ln that case, l'd better speak to my lawyer.

l thought you didn't want to see him.

l didn't know that we'd be leaving
the realms of fact for fantasy.

WeII, it seemed fantastic to me at first.

But then, it was meant to, wasn't it?

l've no idea what you're talking about.

You deny the charges, then?

Charges? You haven't brought any charges yet.

You deny the sequence of events l...

Of course l bloody deny it!
l've never heard such rubbish in my life.

Then let me explain.

Quinn's murderer had to establish an alibi.

You see, all the indications were
that Quinn was still alive on Friday evening,

- but he wasn't, as you know.
- Don't keep saying things like that.

l don't know anything of the sort.

Oh. Pity.

l'm still not exactly sure when he was killed.

I was hoping you'd teII me.

Look, l was in London all day.

l got back to Oxford at 4:1 5.

Can you prove that, sir?

lndeed l can. l met the Dean of Lonsdale College
on the platform.

Does that phone connect with the real world?

- Yes.
- Then phone him up and ask him.

Lewis, er...would you...

The number's 7-4-3-5-3.

And if Quinn was actually murdered
before I got back to Oxford,

if indeed he was really murdered at all,

that puts me in the cIear, doesn't it?

lt would seem to, yes, sir.

LEWlS: CouId I speak to the Dean, pIease?

Just one moment, pIease.

He won't be back till four.

Get over to the college at four o'clock
and see him, will you?

Thank you. No, nothing important.

lt's important to me, if you don't mind.
Can l go now?

Well, yes...l see no reason to...

l'm sorry you've been troubled, sir.

Sergeant Lewis,
would you drive Mr Roope back to his rooms?

No, thanks. l'll walk.

l've had enough police hospitality for one day.

l wish you'd tell me what you think you're doing.

Too clever by half, Lewis.

Two clever by two or three and a half.

Thank you very much.
See you next week. Bye-bye.

No, don't do that. l said...

Sorry.

l said, don't wipe out the words yet.
l want to look at them.

Well, you can see the principle.

P, B and M are the most difficult letters to read.

T and D get easily confused as well.

Mr Quinn was very good, though,

one of the best lip-readers l've ever had.

Of course, even he made mistakes,
but we all do.

- Was he very deaf?
- Yes.

Can l rub this off now?

Would he be able to hear the bell?

Would Mr Quinn have been able
to hear that bell?

What bell?

MOZART: Concerto in E Flat

Yes?

Who?

Yes...

Yes.

Yes, it all makes sense.

Right, well done, Lewis. l'm on my way.

Afternoon, sir.

Afternoon.

Come in.

lnspector. How nice.

Feeling better?

Well...

l couldn't stand hospital.

Work helps, you know.

And you like your work, Monica.
l may call you Monica?

lf you like.

And, yes, l like my work.

And your loyalty to the Syndicate
is really something, isn't it?

What do you mean?

To the secretary, anyway.

- You lied to me.
- No.

You asked me if l saw anyone at the cinema.
l didn't. l saw him coming out.

That's a bit Jesuitical, isn't it?

He's a married man.

l just couldn't see what his being there
could possibly have to do with...

Anyway...he was leaving
even before the film began.

Yes.

Why do you reckon that was, Monica?

He saw Donald.

Donald would have been out of there like a shot
if he'd seen him.

- Yes?
- Yes.

lf you're going to call me Monica,
what shall l call you?

Morse.

Everyone just calls me Morse.

Ah, just the man l wanted to see.

l want you to call an extraordinary
general meeting of the Board of...Syndics?

- Syndics, yes.
- For tomorrow morning.

That's impossible. They're all very busy people.

Tell them to cancel their lectures, their visits
to their publishers, their college meetings,

in fact, the whole Hebdomadal Council,
if necessary.

l want to see them at ten o'clock
for a most important announcement.

l hope it proves more important
than your announcement at the inquest.

l understand Mr Roope is considering suing
for wrongful arrest.

Then he'll do it from jail. We've just arrested him
again. Good afternoon, Dr Bartlett.

These dons. Look at them, there's enough brains
here to sort out the whole British economy.

What do they spend their time on?

Obscure research
and teaching ignorant louts of undergraduates.

A lot of important research goes on in Oxford -
cancer and that.

Well, yes, of course, but...

Well, it's pretty rarefied - setting exams,
don't you think?

Ogleby wanted to prove himself
outside the academic world.

He knew he was dying.

He found himseIf in the middIe of
corruption and murder,

and wanted to have a go. That's what it was.

He wanted to solve it on his own. At the end
of his life, he wanted to prove he'd lived.

And so he died.

Good morning, lnspector...

though hardly for the Syndicate.

Morning, sir.
We were just talking about Mr Ogleby.

We may have done him an injustice.

We might not have had this trouble
if we'd appointed him, not Bartlett.

Ah, weII, we'II never know, wiII we?

Dr Bartlett, what happened at 1 2 o'clock
last Friday in this building?

We had fire drill.

Precisely.

All right, ladies, thank you. Just practising.

All right, that's enough.

Quinn couldn't hear that,
and so as the alarm was sounding,

he was being offered a glass of sherry
in one of the offices downstairs.

Sherry laced with cyanide.

He was dead within 20 seconds at the most.

And while everyone else was out front,
the murderer rapidly took the body out the back

and dumped it in the boot of Quinn's own car.

He then joined the others,
ticking his and Quinn's name off the list.

He then went to the cinema.

There he purchased a ticket,
but he did not go into the film.

He came back here, leaving that ticket to be
collected later and put in Quinn's pocket,

so that we'd all assume that Quinn was alive

long after he had, in fact, been murdered.

l must intervene.

You said Roope was the murderer.
He couldn't have been. He was in London.

- I saw him getting off the train.
- Oh, l know he was on the train, sir.

- But you said...
- I said he'd been arrested

in connection with Quinn's murder.
l didn't say he personally committed it.

No, one person couIdn't possibIy
have managed it on his or her own.

- She's here, sir.
- Bring her in, then.

Mrs Height...wouId you Iike to sit here?

Mrs Height, you spent the early part of last
Friday afternoon at the cinema, didn't you?

- Yes.
- Which cinema was it?

The Studio 2 in Walton Street.

Were you alone?

No, l went with Donald Martin.

Together or separately?

Separately. Donald went first.

- We didn't want anyone to see us.
- Quite.

And as you approached the cinema,
did you see someone you knew leaving it?

Yes.

And is that person in this room today?

Yes.

Would you be so kind as to say who it is?

l'm afraid it was Dr Bartlett.

Dr Thomas Bartlett,
l have here a warrant for your arrest.

l don't believe it. l just can't believe it.
Bartlett, of all people.

He needed the money.

He has a perfectly adequate salary.
Rather generous by academic standards.

- There's mental illness in the family.
- What?

The son, Richard,
he's being treated in the Littlemore.

Yes, not the first hospital he's been in, either.

As a matter of fact, the Bartletts
have sent him to almost every clinic in Europe,

and not on the NHS.

Yes, Richard Bartlett's cost his parents a lot,
in emotion and money.

Like �1 ,000 notes, those exams are.

And Bartlett was such a stickler for security,
no-one would ever dream of suspecting him.

Quinn couldn't believe it. His own boss.

Neither could Ogleby, when Quinn told him.

Which is why Ogleby was here
that Friday afternoon, just as he said.

Where? Nobody saw him.

He was right here,

searching for evidence that Quinn was right.

Yes, Bartlett was off in Banbury.
The coast was apparently clear.

Nothing...

except here.

Quinn's keys, taken from his pocket

after the murder, and half a cinema ticket.

That's very odd, surely?

Left on the desk for someone, perhaps.

So what does he do?

He doesn't want anyone to know
he's been snooping,

so he carefully copies the ticket into a diary.

Just as he's doing this... ''Oh, my God, voices.''

Roope and Noakes.

''What the hell do l do? They're coming here.''

l go in here, that's what l do.

And l hope to God Roope doesn't want a pee.

He doesn't. But he does, however,
take the keys and the ticket.

l see that the keys and the ticket have gone,

and l'm extremely puzzled.

Ten minutes later, l hear a car start up outside.

Quinn's car, driven with the keys
l've seen on this desk just a short while ago.

Ah, so Bartlett was the murderer
and Roope drove away with the evidence?

Precisely. l expect the cyanide
was Roope's idea. He is a chemist.

And l'm sure Bartlett never offers his staff
anything stronger than sherry.

Ogleby was very close to the truth.

He phoned the cinema, you know,
pretending to be a detective story writer,

asking about ticket numbers.

l always thought he was a very able man.

Of course, it never occurred to me...

Oh, Iook at this.

Poor old Quinn wasn't here long enough
to get his name on the notepaper.

TG Bartlett, PhD, MA, Secretary.

P Ogleby, MA, Deputy Secretary.

We made him that as a sort of...
a sort of compensation.

lf we'd only known.
What are you going to do about George Bland?

lnterpol will deal with him.

Quite roughly, if l know lnterpol.

Mrs MM Height, MA,

DJ Martin, BA...

Well, strike the first two off the list,
what are you left with? Office adultery.

The office will have to close,
you can be sure of that.

lt's a dreadful thing for British education.
The Americans are everywhere.

- They spell honour H-O-N-O-R.
- Oh, Christ.

What's the matter?

Take this paper to the door and read
the first and last names out loud. Please.

TG Bartlett, PhD, MA.

Just the names, just the names.

Bartlett, Martin.

Just whisper them. Just move your lips.

Oh, God.

And again... Dr Bartlett, Donald Martin.

Shit.

The wrong bloody brand.

And I've gone and arrested

the wrong man.

- Where is he?
- What?

Did you clean the blood off for him?

- What do you mean?
- Oh, for God's sake, woman! Was it you or him?

There must have been plenty of it, and brains.

Come on, come on!
What are you trying to protect him for?

Monica wasn't the first, was she?
Or likely to be the last.

Don't tell me you love him.

He said there'd been an accident.

He said...

it was in the Broad, just opposite Blackwells.

lt was a girl, an undergraduate...

- Philip Ogleby.
- Was knocked down by a car.

A poker, he used Ogleby's own poker.
He smashed his skull in, Mrs Martin.

Donald!

Need a hand, sir?

Get that bastard off me!

You should get yourself in better shape, Morse.

You're getting flabby from all that beer.

Yes...

Must have a word with the superintendent
about fitness and the over-40s.

I'm surprised at you, Morse.

Fisticuffs, at your age?
l thought you didn't like the sight of blood.

All in the cause of duty.

You are sure you got the right man this time?

But l thought he was so clever at lip-reading.

No-one's perfect.

Then, he'd had a good deal to drink, hadn't he?

He'd done himself well enough.

Then when Roope
deliberately drew suspicion on you

by asking you to meet him
at the botanical gardens...

He said it was so we couId taIk

- without him implicating me.
- They were very cunning.

Both of them.

But not as cunning as Ogleby.

They couldn't get past
that crossword-puzzle mind.

Roope's never liked me, has he, my dear?

Envy, l'm afraid.

l have a little money of my own, you see.

So we've always been able to see
that Richard got the very best attention.

Quite.

Poor Monica.

MORSE: Yes, indeed.

You've...

You've...had a bad time,

Mrs Height.

- Most of it my own fault.
- lf there's anything l can do...

Thank you, but my friends are very kind.

- Shall l pour?
- Yes, do.

How do you like it, lnspector?

l expect you'd rather have something stronger, wouldn't you?

Well, yes.

Doubtless you'd like some explanation
of why l was...

Why l went to the um...

Oh, no, no. l understand.

l do assure you, l don't make a habit
of visiting the cinema,

that kind or any other.

- Of course not.
- But I'd heard so much about this fiIm.

It's a cIassic, they teII me.

l believe so, yes.

So having half an hour to spare
before leaving for Banbury...

I wasn't pIanning on seeing the whoIe thing.

Of course not.

You know, it's absurd,

but l feel almost worse about this
than l do about the Syndicate. l...

l feel l've let myself down.

Monica understood that.

That's why she wanted to protect you.

l was wondering if...

if l shouldn't tell my wife.

Tell her what? That you didn't see the film?

AduItery in the heart
is not reaIIy the same as aduItery.

''Or who shall 'scape whipping?''

- We should have arrested Martin straightaway.
- Why?

Morse's Law.

You said there's a 50:50 chance
that whoever finds the body did the deed.

That isn't Morse's Law.

Morse's Law is
there's always time for one more pint.

Only there isn't.

Come on.

Do you believe that about Bartlett
only meaning to stop for half an hour?

Well, yes. Yes, he only wanted a little thrill.

Just a peep behind the magic curtain,

a glimpse of how the other half
has a bit of the other.

Not everyone's like you, you know.

He is.

Oh, no, they've changed the bloody film!

Oh, 101 Dalmatians?

Great!
l might pop home and fetch the wife and kids.