Original subtitles

♪ Blues

(Typewriter keys click)

(Key in lock)

No!

I say I will not see him.

If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out.

Let there be light.

Have you got the key?

Yeah.

Thank you.

- All right, was it? - Mind your own business.

You're full of charm.

Go on.

Why don't you give Mr Bailey back his arm, Harris?

Fill the kettle, Skinner.

Mr Bailey.

- Pigs in bloody clover. - What happened?

I won't be a tick.

Now, Alex, what are you playing at?

I was locked in my room.

Why?

Might you have upset someone?

Two, four, six...

- Have you thought about it, Lawrence? - Yeah.

About open-heart surgery. Have you seen Alex?

Repentance, Lawrence. Repent what is past, avoid what is to come.

Oh, thank you, Brian. Now, bugger off.

(Door slams)

Ooh! Sorry, Mr Bailey.

HARRIS: Will she buy you a new typewriter?

- Quite possibly. - Watch your lip.

Good afternoon, Guildford. Seen the Home Secretary yet?

Come on.

Get a doctor. Fast!

She's here, Doctor.

Heart attack. He's dead.

Not unexpected.

No.

Not one of the beautiful people, Mr Cryer, though he tried.

- He certainly tried. - What do you mean?

Cosmetic surgery. He had a tattoo removed.

A heart and er...

I think it said Diane.

Touching, don't you think?

Apart from that, I'm surprised he made it past 50. Two stone overweight, and half of it's his liver.

Varicose veins,

- and as for his kidneys... - ls this anything to do with the cause of death?

Nope. But I'm interested in people, Morse. The character behind the cadaver.

What was he?

A used-car salesman?

Hardly.

Cause of death, massive coronary. Massive.

Sorry I'm late, sir.

I've been onto the prison. We've sent some men with Sergeant Cheetham.

Perhaps prematurely. It seems that Cryer died of natural causes.

No, no, no, Morse.

Induced natural causes. Look.

There's a nasty cut

to the back of the head, here.

The upper lip's split and a front tooth's come out.

Voilà.

Blood everywhere, doubtless.

Couldn't he have done that falling over?

It's difficult to fall on your face and your back simultaneously,

with sufficient force to break the skin both times.

Somebody hit him.

Hard.

Either in the face, and he fell backwards,

or on the head, and he fell forward.

We go directly to jail, Lewis.

Cryer Investments. It doesn't ring any bells.

I doubt the case made the Daily Mirror.

LEWIS: They look like businessmen.

MORSE: They made their money from luxury homes.

Developments for the elderly in France and Spain.

'80s entrepreneurs.

An example to us all.

- Until they got caught. - Yeah.

Went bust and took all their investors with them? Them? Bloody hell, I remember that.

All right. All right. It was in the Daily Mirror.

Small investors.

They stole millions.

What did they get?

- Two years. - You can get that for shoplifting.

Pinstripe crime, Lewis.

Lies and lawyers.

Are you going to stand there all day?

Look at it.

I don't like prisons.

They bring me out in a rash.

MORSE: Guilty conscience?

Right. Car park on the left.

- You’ll be met there. - Thanks.

MORSE: Farnleigh shouldn’t upset you too much.

Farnleigh low security.

The jewel in the Home Office crown.

They even give us a brochure.

Lady governor.

Hilary Stevens.

Used to be Assistant Governor at Holloway.

She intends Farnleigh to be a model for prisons of the 21 st century.

(Motorbike horn) - Careful!

She's an attractive woman.

Who is this Sergeant Cheetham?

On attachment.

One of these accelerated promotion types.

You know, university and all that.

He’ll be after your job, then.

Chief Inspector Morse.

Delighted to meet you, sir. Hi, Robbie.

This is DS Cheetham, sir.

- What have you got? - Not a lot.

The world and his dog had been trampling about before we got down here.

Any of the other prisoners see anything?

It happened after they'd finished work for the day.

Free to wander all over the shop.

Well, there's not much point in talking to them, sir.

Given who the deceased was, I think the answer's more likely to be...

Interview the prisoners.

There's a good chap. All of them. Lewis.

Isn't that Sergeant Morse?

Er...well, it was.

It is Detective Chief Inspector Morse.

Do tell him Charlie Bennett sends his regards.

..and an extra guard on all key posts till further notice. Yeah.

(Knock at door) - Bye.

Come in.

Chief Inspector Morse, Sergeant Lewis.

Mrs Stevens.

Your reputation precedes you, Chief Inspector.

- ls that good or bad? - It's promising.

Hello.

I've...only got coffee, I'm afraid.

- No, thank you. - No. Thanks.

Please, Laura.

I know you've got a job to do,

but I’ll be quite honest with you.

Your presence here could be disruptive.

We are treating this as a murder inquiry.

So I understand.

My policy is to avoid an oppressive environment.

We try to foster a sense of responsibility, to encourage self-respect.

Now, some of your officers may find it hard to accept

the degree of trust we give our inmates here.

We respect that, but...

we have a job to do.

And so do I.

I'd appreciate it if you and your officers would remember that you are,

to a large extent, here as my guests.

It sounds like you're locking us up.

We don't do that at Farnleigh. Not even to policemen.

You've decided that it is murder, not manslaughter?

Cryer had a well-publicized heart condition.

Whoever beat him up would know the likely result.

Possible. But circumstantial.

Your men didn't find anything in the room?

- Everything's been disturbed. (Door opens)

(Silence)

MRS STEVENS: Oh, please. I've got no secrets from Laura.

MORSE: It's a pity your doctor

didn't notice that Cryer had been assaulted.

Well, if he'd been in a pathologist's lab with a pathologist's time, he would have.

And Cryer's fellow swindlers

- reside here, don't they? - We try to think of them as individuals

and not label them by past crimes.

Bailey and Thornton?

Yes. By the way, I should warn you about Thornton. He's renounced the world.

Two days ago...

the day of Cryer's death, in fact,

he refused to see even his son.

It can be rather wearing.

MORSE: Thank you for your time,

Mrs Stevens.

There's something else, Chief Inspector.

To do with Bailey.

He's received a number of anonymous letters threatening him.

Have you reported them, Mrs Stevens?

No. I'm reporting them now.

We must be rather messing up your routines with all this fuss.

Routines? This place?

Mostly do as you please. Too bloody soft.

Yeah.

If they don't sell the plant, you don't think the price'll move appreciably?

Now, my last place, high security.

You had everything there. Drugs, punch-ups.

You had to keep on your toes, otherwise...

A sicko strung himself up in his cell once.

There was blue murder.

- You've never had any problems here? - No.

Well, when the Governor took over first, there was a bit of a drug racket going on.

We came down on it hard, cleaned things up quick and hard.

The best thing she ever done.

But ever since then... Well, it's gone a bit...

- Soft? - Well, it is a prison, isn't it?

The scene of the crime.

(Bang)

Thompson!

Those letters were sent to Bailey. This is his cell.

Perhaps they got Cryer by mistake.

No way.

Different ages, different build...

LEWIS: Same fraud.

Can we help you?

Push off, Guildford.

Balance sheets...

Company accounts.

Keeping his hand in.

Yes...

In the till.

You say Lawrence Cryer was already dead when you found him?

- Yes. - When did you last see him alive?

A little while before.

I'd been speaking to him in his room a little while before.

What did you speak about?

Lawrence knew he was dying.

I'd asked him to reflect on what he'd done, what we'd done.

Reflect?

I urged Lawrence to repent while he still had time.

Hope to live, but be prepared to die.

If that sounds a little old-fashioned, then I'm sorry.

What did he say?

He said, ''Bugger off.''

And did you?

LEWIS: Then why did you go to Bailey’s cell?

To ask him to repent?

What was Cryer doing in there?

We were all friends.

So, what did you feel when you saw Cryer was dead?

Awe.

I had warned him

and he'd been called to account.

With all his imperfections on his head.

ls that all?

Isn't that enough?

No.

Not nearly enough.

Lawrence Cryer was murdered.

You found him. You're a suspect.

Why don't you reflect on that?

PRISONER: What's all this about, then?

GUARD: Next.

DJ: Now, we've got time for one more before we go to the newsroom,

and here it is, requested by Gina, who's phoned in from Headington.

It's Gina's fourth wedding anniversary today. Good one, Gina.

BAILEY: The time of Cryer's death?

I couldn't have hoped for a better alibi.

I was being told off, Inspector, by our good governess.

Told off for what?

I had a little tantrum.

Some...fool...

presumably one of the Neanderthals paid to look after me, locked me in my room.

Spiteful, don't you think?

Room?!

This is a very chic establishment, Inspector.

The ''guests'' reside in rooms, not cells.

Would you say you were disliked here?

I've never really thought about it.

And Cryer?

Did anyone dislike him enough to want to attack him?

He was a sick man, you know.

No threat to anyone any more.

So, why kill him?

That's your job, Inspector.

He defrauded a lot of people of a lot of money.

Ah, the man speaks.

Over the past years, Lawrence and I have made a lot of people a lot of money.

Then we lost a few people a little money...

- Cheers, man. - ..and got hammered for it.

I don't call several hundred a few.

And Thornton?

Ah, how could I forget The Life Of Brian?

You've had the pleasure of interviewing him, have you?

Thornton was in with Cryer just before he died.

What do you think that was about?

An extraordinary question.

I've no idea.

Perhaps he bored him to death with a sermon.

You've been receiving threatening letters.

Mm. Terrifying.

You're not concerned?

I'm not a fat old man with a fatal heart condition.

ls that supposed to be an expression of sorrow?

You were in partnership for 10 years.

As my old mum used to say,

why get upset about things you can't change?

Like getting caught.

Quite.

Win some,

get crucified for some.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, Inspector, I've got football practice.

I don't know which I find more repellent...

..Thornton's nauseating remorse, or Bailey's nauseating indifference.

It strikes me none of them seem too concerned about being here at all.

Why should they be?

Only 12 months to serve.

It's Butlins for the Borgias, Lewis.

CHEETHAM: Sir, I think Mr Thornton would like a word.

Inspector...

It was on the floor beside Lawrence. I found it lying there.

It's part of a syringe, sir.

Why didn't you give this to me before?

I'd forgotten I'd picked it up in the panic, confusion. It was in a pocket.

Anything else you've forgotten to tell me, Mr Thornton?

No. What I'm telling you is the truth.

Sergeant Cheetham, please take Mr Thornton inside

and go through his cell like the wrath of God.

(Bell rings)

- Mademoiselle... - Where are we going, Geoff?

I need to see Mrs Stevens. Now.

- But she's busy. - So am I.

But you can't! Inspector.

It’s just that... Inspector!

- One usually waits after knocking. - Mrs Stevens, sorry.

MORSE: Sorry. - It's all right, Inspector.

I've got a dinner date tonight and no time to go home and change.

I'm sorry if I startled you,

but normally I can call my office my own.

Come in, Sergeant Lewis.

It was found by Brian Thornton beside Lawrence Cryer's body.

- Just this? - So far.

I've ordered a search of Thornton's cell.

Room.

I trust you have no objections.

It would have been polite to ask me first.

We are here investigating a murder.

A murder which now seems

to have a drug connection.

You had a drug problem here when you arrived.

We did. Yes.

Not now.

MORSE: You are sure of that?

Absolutely.

Enjoy your dinner, Mrs Stevens.

(Phone rings)

- This is an exclusive. - Eh?

Mrs Cryer.

Mrs Cryer.

A photo opportunity.

I don't think she married Cryer for his looks.

And I don't think she's dressing herself out of a widow's pension.

There's money floating about here, sir.

Real money.

Well?

Drawn a blank. No trace of any substance in the syringe, or in Cryer's body.

We double-checked.

Cheetham's search found nothing.

So much for my elegant theory about a drugs conspiracy.

OFFICIAL: Please stand in court.

CORONER: Thank you. Please be seated.

This hearing concerns

the inquest of on the death of Lawrence Alfred Cryer of Her Majesty's...

Who's that?

I don't know. Journalist?

Peter Thornton. Son of Brian.

I saw his photo in the cuttings.

Interesting.

CORONER: I understand there's an application... - Well done.

..for an adjournment.

If it please, sir, we'd like to hold the body of the deceased

until we complete the necessary inquiries.

Granted.

This inquest is adjourned to a date to be fixed.

OFFICIAL: Please stand in court.

Excuse me.

I'm Emma Cryer.

Chief Inspector Morse.

When are you going to release my husband's body?

When we know why he died, Mrs Cryer.

Are you treating

Larry Cryer's death as suspicious, Inspector?

That's a police matter.

We’ll be in touch, Mrs Cryer.

Sir...

I've been checking these letters to Bailey.

''You've ruined my life.''

''We’ll get you when you come out.'' And so on.

The interesting thing is, they're all posted locally.

We're talking about multi-million pound crimes here, not poison pen pals.

- Even so, a lot of small investors lost... - Relatively small amounts of money.

Now, where's the real money gone?

Cryer Investments went bust.

They lost the lot, didn't they?

It's not credible that company directors like that didn't salt money away over the years.

- Well, how do we know that? - Come on, Lewis.

Did Mrs Cryer look poverty-stricken to you?

People like that never really go bankrupt.

(Knock at door)

Morning, Morse.

No, don't get up.

Er, I hope I'm not um...

No. No. We're just um...

- chatting, you know? - Yeah.

- Hello, Lewis. - Sir.

Ah, young Cheetham.

- Your father was in the Navy, wasn't he? - Oh, briefly. Yes, sir.

Yes. I thought so.

- Well, give him my regards, will you? - Oh, yes, sir.

ls this making sense yet?

- Possibly. - Well,just in case it doesn't, Morse,

go gently at Farnleigh.

It's a special sort of place.

With all this flak about the Prison Service, the Home Office don't want clod-hopping coppers

trampling on their prize flowerbed.

Do they?

Ah. Yes. Well, I must um...

Nice to see you, Cheetham.

Don't let Morse teach you any bad habits, will you?

Lewis.

What does he mean, ''bad habits''?

It proves my point, though.

Farnleigh is a country club.

Knock on the front door and you get the chief constable on your back.

Meanwhile, Bailey and Thornton are sitting there waiting to collect their hidden millions.

How did they do it, then?

Salt away these millions.

Well, how they did it isn't relevant, Lewis.

Offshore accounts.

Trust companies. How do people usually salt money away?

Well, I don't know.

Here. Read Cryer's biography.

Rags to riches, charming fairy tale.

Do you honestly think he lost his shirt when one scheme blew up?

Well, if they're so clever, how come they got caught?

The Spanish property market slumped.

- Well, and that's fraud, is it? - No.

Look...

They raised five million pounds, from investors, on a particular luxury development scheme

and claimed they were putting in five million of their own money

and raising five million from the banks,

when in fact, they raised the five mill,

then borrowed 10 mill from the banks,

and put in sweet FA of their own.

A disproportionate risk for the investor,

a disproportionate profit for Cryer and co.

But the market slumped.

Exactly.

The banks foreclosed.

Investors lost every penny.

The prospectus was a lie. That's fraud.

Two years inside for our boys.

Only they claim to have lost everything, so no chance of reparation.

It's convenient, don't you think?

Were all these investors from Spain?

Yeah. Brit expats. That's right.

Bailey is on that phone to his broker,

Thornton's got a direct line to the Almighty.

I wish we could hear what they're saying to each other.

Oh, I'm sure something could be arranged, sir.

MORSE: Right, Lewis.

Now that you understand, let's go and talk to the merry widow.

(Doorbell)

'Ello, 'ello.

Be my guests.

That's great. Thanks very much, Mrs Cryer.

Pleasure.

- Good afternoon, Inspector. - Good afternoon.

I think you've got everything you need from me, Paul.

Mrs Cryer, it's been a pleasure.

I don't suppose we could have a few words now, Inspector?

I don't suppose, either.

- Thank you, Paul. - Right. We’ll be off.

- Ah...Rob. - Yeah. If you could take that case, please.

The theory is, if you give an exclusive, the others won't bother you.

That's the theory. But who'd be dumb enough to trust the press?

Won't you take a seat, Inspector?

Thanks a lot, Mrs Cryer.

I’ll telephone you later.

MRS CRYER: Bye.

Apparently, the public like their widows in black.

Your husband's death didn't come as a particular shock to you?

I've been campaigning for his release on medical grounds.

I don't believe prison is the place for a dying man, no matter what he's done.

Had you been married long, Mrs Cryer?

10 years. I was 21.

That's right. He was my sugar daddy and I taught him how to use a knife and fork.

Would you describe it as a close marriage?

Yes, I would.

And you're provided for in the will?

The house is in my name and it's up for sale.

It's mortgaged to the hilt.

The rest of our assets were all tied up in the business.

If I were a gold-digger, I'd be rather disappointed.

And you have no children?

I can't have them.

Is there anyone who may have had a grievance against him, personal or business?

People seem to be jealous of wealth.

I don't know. You tell me.

Why would anyone want to kill a dying man?

For what he'd done. For what he knew.

About what?

Your husband was hardly an angel.

I never said he was. That's why he was in prison.

And now he's dead and I would like to bury his body.

So you can get on with your life?

Are you always so churlish, Inspector?

So that I can pay him the respect I owe him.

Is there anything else?

Not for the moment, Mrs Cryer.

Do you envy the rich, Lewis?

I could always do with a bit more cash.

Nah. I don't think about it much.

She must have known what Cryer was up to, all along.

And now she's playing for compassion.

They seemed genuinely to have something going between them.

From the photos, you know?

Photos.

I wonder how much she's getting for her exclusive.

Get back onto the prison.

They must have dug up the visitors' list by now. Find out who was visiting whom, and when.

Right.

What are you going to do?

Me?

I have some serious thinking to do, Lewis.

- Excuse me. CHEETHAM: How's it going, Robbie?

What are you doing with lovely Laura?

Nothing. What are you doing?

Solving the crime, my dear chap.

I’ll um...keep you appraised.

Oh, Cheetham!

Those investors in Cryer's scheme.

How do you know they're all expatriates?

It was stated at the trial.

See you.

Who is that bloke? ls he in charge of you?

Oh, no. He's just a cadet.

I don't suppose you could do me a print-out of all those names, could you?

How much longer's this all going to go on for?

It's not helping Mrs Stevens, you know.

it’ll be over soon.

Could you? Just...

Please?

It is one thing to be tempted,

another thing to fall.

I'm not denying that the jury passing on the prisoner's life

may, in this sworn twelve, have a thief or two guiltier than him they try.

What's open made to justice, that justice seizes.

What know the laws that thieves do pass on thieves?

♪ SCHUBERT: Death And The Maiden, String quartet in D

(Raises volume)

(Doorbell rings)

Evening, sir.

I hope I'm not disturbing you.

- It er...couldn't wait. - What's the problem?

I've got information. It's fascinating stuff. Can I um...?

Yes. Come in.

Ah, Schubert. Lovely.

- Do you want a beer or something? - No, thanks, sir.

Bailey's got a contact outside the prison.

His name's Sherman.

He's feeding Bailey financial information. He's probably trading for him, as well.

Excellent, Cheetham.

Excellent. How did you get this?

I overheard it.

I got his address too. Only six miles from the prison.

- What do you mean, you ''overheard'' it? - I listened in.

I haven't had a chance to listen to most of it.

90% obscene calls, I expect.

You tapped a phone?

Yeah. Just the payphones.

You said you wanted to hear what they were saying.

Does that amount to a warrant from the Home Secretary?

Mm-hm.

How did you get it?

There's a big drugs operation being run out of Reading.

I've got a mate on it.

They've got a warrant, so we added the numbers, make it seem the same case.

You and your mate could be thrown out for this. I don't want it.

- Morse... - Sir, to you, sonny.

And if I see or hear a whisper of anything more like this,

you’ll finish your career as a night watchman.

Now, get out.

- Don't tell me you've never broken the rules. - Not like this!

I don't believe you, sir. You get results.

- I get results by using my brain. - No. You won't get near these people.

They can see you coming, and you know it.

Shall we go and see Sherman?

Hello, Val? It's Morse. Is Lewis there?

He's still at the station. Mmm.

No.

No, no. It doesn't matter.

Good night.

Yes.

♪ SCHUBERT: String Quartet in C

RADIO: ..lower interest rates, and it's suggested that further cuts should not be jeopardized.

The minister has noted that rates have fallen in Britain, Canada, the US, France and Italy,

while remaining...

The communiqué, which was issued during a break in the Seven's weekend meetings...

♪ SCHUBERT: Death And The Maiden, String Quartet in D

(Doorbell) - You talk to him.

Redeem yourself.

CHEETHAM: Mr Roland Sherman?

Sergeant Cheetham and Chief Inspector Morse.

Thames Valley CID.

Thank you.

RADIO: ..London set to close at 1973.6.

Footsie shares began with an opening fall.

But the December Footsie Futures contract shot up to 37.3.

The Footsie itself made it higher...

What exactly is the relationship between you and Alex Bailey?

I work for him.

- You deal on his behalf? - No.

Research.

I collate information.

Really?

It's complicated.

MORSE: We have lots of time.

I analyze companies.

I study reports, balance sheets,

look out undervalued assets

as investment possibilities.

And er...

does Bailey profit from this...research?

Not yet.

- When he gets out. - And you.

- Will you profit? - I have enough money.

Do you profit?

I get paid for my work.

CHEETHAM: How often do you go to the prison?

I don't. It freaks me out.

- Well, how do you communicate? - He sends a bike. A courier.

- Who? - I'm doing nothing wrong.

It's a prison officer. George somebody.

George Newcombe.

- And what does George get out... - That'll be all for tonight, Mr Sherman.

You will keep our little chat entirely to yourself, won't you?

Yes.

Good.

Beer, Lewis. I need a beer.

And I haven't got any money.

- Sherman was lying, wasn't he? - No, no. He was telling the truth.

- He said he's working for him. That indicates... - It doesn't mean he knows what Bailey's up to.

Sherman's just a source of information.

Too much liberty, Cheetham.

Liberty plucks justice by the nose.

Ironic that it's so hard to pin down people already locked away.

Look at this, sir.

- Who's that with her? - Archer.

The prison doctor.

MRS STEVENS: Inspector! I didn't know this was one of your haunts.

- It isn't. I was in the neighbourhood. - Let me introduce you.

Steven Archer, Chief Inspector Morse.

Steven's the prison doctor.

Oh, yes.

Your opinion was somewhat inaccurate in the Cryer case, Doctor.

Incomplete, rather than inaccurate.

Of course.

Mrs Stevens, I wonder if I might have a word.

Steven, would you mind?

Could you get me something to eat?

Would you know what was going on at Farnleigh, Mr Archer?

Oh, I'm just a doctor, Inspector. I confine my attentions to medical matters.

What about syringes?

As I said, I am a doctor.

What's your problem, Morse?

The usual professional one.

Catching a killer.

- What's yours? - Running a prison in trying circumstances.

Did you know that one of your staff is acting as Bailey's private courier?

George Newcombe.

- Are you all right? - What does that matter?

What do you think the Home Office do when a prisoner dies?

Send a note of congratulation, ''Thanks. That's one less to deal with''?

There'll be an inquiry.

Which you’ll be part of, Morse. And whatever you dig up.

- I don't know... - You'd better believe it.

For those who don't like Farnleigh, or rather, for those who don't like the way I run Farnleigh,

it's too good an opportunity.

(Rings doorbell)

Good morning, sir. On the razzle, were we?

On the what?

Why are you so disgustingly cheerful?

Cheetham was wrong, sir.

Oh, that's why.

Those investors. They weren't all expatriates.

A good hundred live in England.

Six of them within 50 miles of Farnleigh.

So?

So, it makes the threatening letters relevant, doesn't it?

It's a connection.

- It's a bloody remote connection. - Have you got a better one?

Yes. Roland Sherman. Bailey's pet analyst.

He lives near the prison,

feeds Bailey his financial information.

Someone called Sherman used to visit Bailey twice a week.

The visitors' log.

He's a popular man, Alex Bailey.

The only person that doesn't visit him

is his wife.

This is good, Lewis.

Really good.

Why has Peter Thornton taken to visiting Bailey all of a sudden?

And why was he lurking at Cryer's inquest?

Let's go and talk to him. No, no.

You talk to him. I’ll go and see Mrs Bailey.

Mrs Bailey? My name is Morse.

Chief Inspector, Thames Valley CID.

I'm Mrs Bailey.

Mrs Alex Bailey?

Yes.

I'd like to talk to you about Lawrence Cryer, Mrs Bailey.

You knew him well?

Well enough.

I disliked him.

He and my first husband were in business together at one time.

The only thing I've got to thank Lawrence for is Alex.

I don't follow.

When my first husband died, Lawrence called round to pay his respects.

Alex happened to be with him.

Do you believe in love at first sight, Inspector?

No. You're not the type, are you?

Actually, I...I probably am.

Well, I hope I am.

Cryer made a lot of enemies in his career.

Are you aware of anyone in particular recently?

I thought he was assaulted by one of his fellow prisoners at Farnleigh.

What would I know about what goes on there?

- You don't visit your husband? - No.

It's um...

..inconvenient.

We speak on the phone every day.

You don't know if your husband and Lawrence Cryer had quarreled recently?

Alex owes his career to Lawrence.

I may not have liked him,

but he was like a father to Alex.

And Alex repaid him with complete loyalty.

Then...does Brian Thornton

share your husband's loyalty?

Oh, God. Does it never end?

I loathe that company

- and everything associated. - Brian Thornton?

At the trial,

Alex and Lawrence argued the same defense.

Brian Thornton didn't.

His son Peter persuaded him to plead ignorance.

Well, it was nonsense, of course.

Thornton knew what he was doing.

And Lawrence could prove it.

Peter Thornton was very bitter about it all.

Not very pleasant, I suppose, watching your father cracking up.

Floundering.

So you'd say that Thornton is the one with the grudge against Cryer.

I don't think Brian Thornton's new beliefs allow him to have grudges, Inspector.

I'm not sure that extends to his son.

Before you leave, Inspector,

perhaps you'd let me give you something for Alex.

Oh, you got a present out of it, then.

Don't ask.

What about Peter Thornton?

I haven't got a hold of him. The neighbours say he's hardly ever in.

The cracks are beginning to appear.

I don't think the unholy trinity liked each other very much.

Let's talk to their loved ones.

Starting with Emma Cryer.

♪ MOZART: Mi Tradi Quell'Alma Ingrata from Don Giovanni

Bailey’s the key.

Thornton's gone peculiar, Cryer's dying, so they all visit Bailey.

Why? What has he got?

He's got some threatening letters.

Lewis, will you shut up about those?

LEWIS: Here, look over there.

That bloke from the prison who always reckons he knows you.

Charlie Bennett!

LEWIS: Maybe petty criminals get time off.

MORSE: He's not petty.

He's a murderer.

He's doing life for bashing his wife's head in.

Go after him. I’ll drive around.

- Did you get him? - Inspector Morse, are you all right?

What the hell are you doing out?

I'm allowed out. Didn't you know?

RADIO: ..a chemical spillage on the M40 westbound, near junction nine...

BENNETT: They haven't run out of milk, then? MORSE: No. Why should they?

When are you due for release?

In three weeks' time.

They've been letting me out like this for a while. On parole.

A few hours a day.

Practice.

I must have scared the life out of you.

A bit of excitement.

16 years, all told.

I was moved to Farnleigh four months ago, at Easter.

That's what you were wondering, wasn't it, how long I've been inside?

(Laughter)

The first time I was out on my own, I lasted 10 minutes.

I had to go up an alley and throw up.

Shaking like a leaf.

I felt like running back saying, ''Let me in. Let me come home.''

16 years.

You can become accustomed to a way of life.

It's almost as if I don't mind any more.

You don't mind what?

Being innocent.

I am innocent, Morse. I didn't kill my wife.

I came back that night...

Tuesday 4th June,

just like I told Sergeant Franklin 16 years ago.

She was lying on the sitting room floor,

her head covered in blood.

Not me.

It was a fair trial, Charlie.

Tell me something. Why do policemen always call people like me by their first names

when they don't believe them?

Everything's sorted, sir.

The Governor's in Oxford herself, apparently.

She's coming straight over here.

Have I got you in trouble, Morse?

It was my fault. I shouldn't have run.

- There's no need for you... - No, but there is.

I remember at the station.

They'd left me alone for a while. To give me time to think things over.

You came in. I'd never seen you before.

You brought me a cup of tea.

Did I?

Well, somebody must have told me to. I'd just been made sergeant.

You said,

''We've run out milk. I hope that's OK, Mr Bennett.''

That stayed with me.

16 years.

A kind thought in a nasty world.

LEWIS: Sir...

I was pleased when I heard you were heading the Cryer investigation.

I thought you'd be sensitive to what we're trying to do at Farnleigh.

But now, well...

I have a major crime to solve, Mrs Stevens.

You won't solve it by chasing parole prisoners around Oxford.

It was a mistake. I have apologized.

Your inquiry seems to have done nothing but obstruct my work.

Why shouldn't I seek to have you replaced?

Replace me and you’ll find out about obstruction.

Most of my colleagues have a rather dim view of your regime at Farnleigh.

I have a horror of the prison system.

I spend my working life sending people into it and I've never yet seen good come out.

I agree with what you're trying to do at Farnleigh, but...

Then why obstruct me?

..but your trust has been abused.

The liberties you allow are obstructing my investigation.

There's been a murder.

I have to pursue the killer,

regardless of your experiment.

- That is my duty. - And bugger the consequences.

Now, can we please go to Emma Cryer's?

You drive.

Chocolates. They've even got us running errands for them now.

- Was Mrs Stevens OK? - Oh, perfect, Lewis.

Perfect.

You bloody idiot, Peter.

(Doorbell rings persistently)

(Screaming and giggling)

MRS CRYER: Peter, don't!

Peter, don't. Don't do that.

Yes? Hello?

Police. I want to speak to Mrs Cryer.

It's not convenient.

Mrs Cryer...

Inspector.

It's really not convenient.

Last time we met, you were concerned as to when we might release your husband's body.

I still am.

Did he know about this relationship?

Did you tell him before he died?

Don't be ridiculous.

This relationship is recent and private.

It would have been inconvenient, otherwise.

He was hardly likely to find out about it in prison.

What exactly are you here for, Inspector?

If you came to talk to Mrs Cryer, I imagine it'd be easier if I left.

Please. Sit down, Mr Thornton.

You disliked Lawrence Cryer, didn't you?

You think he misled your father, don't you?

Betrayed him.

I never knew much about the business.

I hardly knew Cryer. I hardly knew anything.

- I just believed my own father. - Perhaps you'd like me to leave, Inspector.

And what do you believe now?

Now I know a little more.

And now you're having a relationship with Mr Cryer's wife.

And he's conveniently died and left her everything.

That's practically the basis for a charge.

Rubbish! You can inspect the will. There's nothing left of everything.

- I'm interested in what's been left out of the will. - Why worry about what doesn't exist?

You've visited Farnleigh Prison a few times, haven't you, recently?

The 15th, the 17th, and the day Mr Cryer died,

- the 21st? - I was visiting my father.

MORSE: Who wouldn’t talk to you.

No.

And Mr Bailey. You also saw Mr Bailey, with Mrs Cryer.

What of it? We were friends.

So, you were a friend of Bailey, but hardly knew Lawrence Cryer,

with whom your father had worked for ten years or more.

- What did you talk to Bailey about? - I don't remember.

- Money? - What money?

- And did you talk to your father about money? - He's seen God. He'd give it all away!

And that would be a problem?

It's academic. He's got nothing.

MRS CRYER: Inspector,

if you persist in not talking to me, I believe I have every right in asking you to leave.

If you don't, I shall call the police.

What does she want from you, Peter?

You were pushing it a bit there, sir.

Pushing it? With that pair of hyenas?

You've got no evidence at all about this money.

What other explanation is there?

All right, all right, don't tell me.

Follow it up, if you must.

I've got a list of the investors who live locally.

I'm not chauffeuring you around Oxfordshire while you interview impoverished pensioners.

My car's at the station.

LEWIS: You still agree with Cheetham, then? Secret bank accounts and all that?

MORSE: Why else are they flapping around each other like some witches' sabbath?

They smell money.

By the way, any agreement I have with Cheetham is entirely coincidental.

He's an ambitious chancer.

He just wants to crack a big case.

He’ll be after your job if we do.

He’ll be after Strange's job

if we do.

Then he’ll be able to authorize his own phone taps.

Right. Off you go, Lewis.

Give these to Bailey, will you?

- I’ll see you at Farnleigh later. - Where are you off to?

I've got to do some legwork for Chief Superintendent Cheetham.

MORSE: Afternoon.

Keeping fit?

I was just passing. I...

thought I'd see how you were.

There's one thing puzzled me.

You said you'd never been to the prison, but you used to go quite often, didn't you?

I said I don't...

any more.

Every time, I had to screw myself up to go.

It got too much, honestly.

Right.

Do you think I should try this? Lose some...?

Yes, you should. I think you should.

Well, maybe not right now.

What about a cup of tea?

(Dog barks)

Afternoon. Sergeant Lewis. Thames Valley CID.

- ls it about the dog? - No. I...

Hang on a minute.

Heel! Shut up!

It's all right. I'm going to get him done. Neutralized. He's got a lovely nature.

Are you Dave Metcalfe?

No. I'm his brother Andy. You can't be serious about the... Bill, shut up!

- Where is your brother? - He's abroad.

Ah. I wanted to talk to him about Cryer Investments.

- Larry Cryer? - Larry Cryer?!

- Well, don't mention that name to Dave. - Why not?

Larry Cryer lost about 15 grand's worth of Dave's money. Dave wants to break his legs.

It's a bit late. Cryer's dead.

Oh.

Whereabouts abroad is...Dave, exactly?

It's not that far. Isle of Wight.

Maximum security.

Thanks very much, Mr Metcalfe. I’ll send someone round about the dog.

(Door slams) - Bill!

Sharon!

The dog's locked me out! Bill!

I had a bit of a cleanup.

Yes.

Yes. I was a little nervous about the tea, to be honest.

Tell me, if I wanted to hide money, a lot of money,

how would I do it?

You'd send it abroad.

Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Cayman Islands, Bahamas.

As simple as that?

It used to be easier.

Now, by law, even the Swiss banks need to know the identity of the account holder.

If the money's bent, it's ''No, thanks.''

You know, there are billions...

billions lying unclaimed in Swiss accounts.

Either the owners daren't collect, or they're dead.

Milk?

Please.

Your boss has money

- stashed away, hasn't he? - I don't know anything about that.

- Oh, surely you do. - No, I do not.

I don't do business for Bailey. I don't know about his business. I'm not interested.

Come on. He funds your work.

My work is theoretical.

I analyze numbers, I look at balance sheets. I don't deal with people.

I don't know what Bailey does.

And I don't care about money.

- Isn't all this about money? - I told you, it's theoretical.

But you could make money from it.

You personally, if you wanted.

But I don't want. I have enough.

This is just numbers. It's something I do well. I'm not interested in exploiting the results.

ls that why you live like this?

A recluse.

People confuse me. I stay away.

Why don't you stay away from Bailey?

He lets me do what I'm good at.

These were when we first went to Spain.

Yeah.

It's very nice, but why did you put money into Cryer Investments?

Friends of ours told us about it.

They'd done it before and done very well out of it, actually.

Of course...

Geoff didn't like the idea.

- Lemonade? - Thanks.

Geoff's your husband?

My stepson.

My husband passed away.

This is Geoff's house.

It's thanks to him I've got a roof over my head.

You lost everything because of Cryer Investments?

Everybody did, I thought.

The property market collapsed.

The directors were convicted of fraud.

I don't really understand these things.

I knew it was a gamble when we did it.

There's always a catch, whatever people say.

Que serà serà.

Hello, Sergeant.

- What are you doing here? - Do you boys know each other?

Yes, we do.

I hadn't realised your family lost money because of Cryer.

Why should you? Them and about 2,000 others.

It couldn't be helped.

See? I'd have murdered that bastard.

Are you going back to the prison?

Yes.

Good. Give me a lift?

BAILEY: Bad luck, doc.

That's three in a row.

- Fancy another one? - Oh. No, thank you.

I think one heart attack in a week is enough, don't you?

Ah, Inspector Morse.

Fancy a game?

No, thanks. I detest physical exercise.

BAILEY: Do you?

Then you’ll die, Morse.

Won't he, doc?

Exercise, Morse.

Could I have a word?

Come on down.

Are you on a promise?

They're for Alex Bailey.

I wouldn't waste your sympathy.

From his wife.

BAILEY: I hear you caught a dangerous felon.

Single-handed.

That's right.

Interesting, all this concern for my health.

Your friend Sherman offered to let me have a go with his skipping rope.

So?

I know what he's doing for you.

There's nothing wrong with it.

It cost George Newcombe his job.

He broke the rules, he got caught.

Tough.

And then I spoke to your wife.

You keep away from her.

She's not well. She has nothing to do with this.

She had such interesting things to say.

About Brian and Peter Thornton.

Their feelings for Cryer.

We couldn't find Peter Thornton.

We went to Emma Cryer.

We found them both.

They were washing their hair together.

We also found that they'd been seeing quite a lot of you, Mr Bailey.

What was that about?

Discussing your hidden money?

ls Brian Thornton being uncooperative?

ls Peter the only way to get to him?

You're struggling, Morse.

There is no money. Can't you believe that?

Why has my wife locked herself in her flat?

Why am I working my balls off?

So that when I come out, I'm ready.

Ready to make another fortune.

Because there isn't one waiting for me.

Now, sod off, Morse.

Waste someone else's time.

What's the score, sir?

What do you want?

- I want a word with you, Alex. - Of course you do. Everyone does.

We have to resolve all this.

But now is not the time.

Morse is around.

I pity you, Alex.

Repent what is past.

You just remember what's to come, Brian.

And, in the meantime, keep faith,

and your mouth shut.

I pray for you.

- That's the idea. - I mean it.

Good.

I thought I'd answered that question, Inspector.

Look, would you mind getting out of my way, please?

At the trial, you claimed you'd been misled by Cryer and Bailey, and they'd duped you.

I've no excuse for my past, nor do I seek excuses.

I'm fully reconciled to my punishment.

And what about your son Peter? How does he feel?

You refused to see him when he last came to visit.

Please, I'm busy. I've got a job to do.

He's having an affair with Mrs Cryer. You know that?

Rubbish. Don't talk rubbish to me.

It's true.

ls that why you refused to see him?

ls that why you refused to see her when she tried to talk to you?

You're lying. You're tormenting me.

I can resist your torments.

Mr Thornton, will you please stand still and talk to us?

The Cryers were sinners. I couldn't save him.

Then surely you should talk to your son.

Yes, I will. I must talk to him.

Why did you refuse before?

- I don't remember. - Try harder.

Excuse me, sir.

Chasing a madman around a greenhouse, Bennett.

What a waste of time.

He's a good policeman, is Morse.

What did they want from you, Brian?

- Money? THORNTON: I don't know what you mean.

I want to be left alone.

Money?

I've done evil, evil things and now I'm suffering, and through that suffering I’ll be redeemed.

There's not much sign of suffering round here, Mr Thornton.

I count the days.

But there's still another year. I can't breathe. I can't cope with these people.

What do they want from you? Money you've hidden?

Why do they need you?

- I don't remember. - What does your son want?

The same as you. He asked the same questions.

I don't know. I don't remember.

Why must I be tormented like this? I can't bear it.

I can't!

It's pathetically simple.

If they don't say anything, I can't prove anything.

There is something funny going on here, sir.

Funny, maybe. The only illegal thing so far is your phone tap.

I've been following up on those local investors, sir, and...

Tell me tomorrow, Lewis. I'm late.

♪ BACH: Chorale from St Matthew Passion

Choir practice.

♪ BACH: Chorale from St Matthew Passion

I knew about the beer. I didn't know about this.

It's just an excuse for more beer.

I don't think so. It nearly made me cry.

Thank you.

We...have been better.

It was beautiful.

Thank you.

Why have you come?

Shall we walk?

Four weeks ago, three syringes were stolen from the prison dispensary.

Two weeks ago Lawrence Cryer told Steven Archer

that he thought someone was stealing the tablets he took for his heart condition.

- ls there meant to be a connection? - I don't know.

Why didn't you tell me this before?

One of those syringes was found beside Cryer's body!

It's directly relevant.

- Why didn't you say? - Calm down, Morse.

Calm down? I'm perfectly calm.

I'm afraid the college is closed today. Inspector, I didn't...

ls this your...lady friend? How charming.

- How do you do? - Mrs Stevens,

the Governor of Farnleigh Prison.

Farnleigh Prison? My word.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

That's what I say, Mrs Stevens.

Ah... Well, better run.

God bless.

What was that all about?

Who will guard the guards themselves?

He says that to me every time we meet.

This is the first time it's actually been apposite.

We were talking about something else.

When the syringes disappeared from the dispensary, I assumed it was drug-related.

I had to.

Three syringes wouldn't last for ever,

and a full search would have destroyed the inmates' trust.

We'd spent months building it up.

So, instead, I set up a concealed camera in the dispensary.

Nothing happened.

There was no repeat.

And then Cryer died.

I still can't understand why you didn't tell me at the time.

Because I wish to protect my work.

If what I'm attempting at Farnleigh is shown not to work,

our prisons will stay in the 19th century for another what? 20 years?

- You exaggerate, surely? - Why should I?

You say my system's being abused.

Well, the implication is that I'm bungling it.

Yet the fact is, your investigation

has only uncovered one instance of malpractice.

George Newcombe.

We've dealt with him.

I think you're only blaming the way I run my prison

because you can't come up with any other explanation

for Cryer's death.

That is entirely possible.

To tell you some truth, I don't know what's going on at all.

But worse, I don't care about Cryer's death, I don't care about his crimes.

One bunch of unscrupulous charlatans

ripping off another bunch of credulous speculators.

That's a definition of capitalism, isn't it?

It certainly doesn't get my adrenaline flowing.

And now I've told you about the syringes?

- Will it go in my report? - Yes.

No trace of anything was found in the syringe or in Cryer.

If they prove not to be relevant, there's no reason for me to mention them.

Thank you.

My report may be somewhat thin.

The only credible theory so far is that Cryer did just...

die of a heart attack.

I may have been wasting your time.

How else would I have heard you sing?

Me and 30 others.

You mentioned beer, earlier.

- I don't suppose you... - I thought you'd never ask.

(Beeping)

We were both wrong. Alex Bailey collapsed half an hour ago.

He's been taken to hospital, critically ill.

They think he's been poisoned.

Just taking the mask off now, Mr Bailey. Just relax.

That's fine.

You're doing fine.

It's er...not exactly beer, I'm afraid.

Mind you, it's not exactly coffee.

Thank you, anyway.

Sergeant Cheetham's already at the prison.

We've put Brian Thornton into more...protective custody.

So, you think Brian could be in...

Hello. I'm glad you could make it.

- How is he? - Well...

A bit odd, that. She didn't want to come out. Not at first.

Agoraphobia, Lewis. The fear of open spaces.

And policemen.

You're lucky they found him so quickly, Mrs Stevens.

This is his wife, Mrs Bailey.

What's wrong?

- He didn't have a heart condition, did he? MORSE: What?

The blood test shows very high levels of digoxin, used by people with serious heart complaints.

He had four times the recommended dose inside him.

He's lucky to be alive.

You can see him now, Mrs Bailey.

Thank you.

MRS STEVENS: Lawrence Cryer's tablets.

Why didn't you tell me he was in danger?

I didn't know he was.

Who did this to him?

I...think it's about money.

Large amounts of money were deposited abroad when Cryer Investments was flourishing.

Do you know anything about this?

We lost everything.

I wish there was some money.

I certainly don't know anything about it.

(Footsteps)

Annie, I'm so sorry. This is terrible.

Horrible.

He’ll be fine.

MORSE: Do you want these people here?

I think you should leave.

ls it all right if I stay?

How did you know?

I had a phone call. I assumed it was from one of your men.

- Why would we do that? - We were told Alex was dying.

Frightened you might lose out?

Inspector...

sod off.

Excuse me, sir.

I've found another syringe.

- Where? - You're not going to believe this.

- It's quite possible. - Thornton's locker.

With all his gardening kit.

Plus the rest of the first syringe.

You didn't put it there yourself?

All right. All right, I'm sorry.

- Get it photographed and sent off to the labs. - All done, sir.

The third syringe. Any sign of it?

- Third? - Mm.

No, sir.

And Thornton?

In one of the education rooms.

Two bobbies sitting on him.

Right.

Lewis.

Did Emma Cryer turn up at the hospital?

What? Yes.

Yes, she did.

Just a bit of experimental psychology.

I believe you murdered Lawrence Cryer and attempted to murder Alex Bailey.

THORNTON: No. - You knew about Cryer's heart condition.

You had access to the tablets he took for that condition.

You used those tablets to poison Alex Bailey.

You claim you found a piece of syringe beside Cryer's body.

(Door closes) - The remainder of that syringe

and the second syringe have been found amongst your possessions.

You know all about the money your partnership had hidden abroad.

With Cryer and Bailey out of the way, that money devolves to you.

In short, Mr Thornton, guilty.

Many bore false witness against him, but their witness together would not agree.

Oh, spare me. Your identification with Christ is pathetic.

- I'm true to my faith. - Your faith is from a dictionary of quotations!

- It's a charade! - I need my God.

Yes, well, you may just find your God has forsaken you.

When you finish this sentence, you're going to walk straight into another 15 years of it.

Years, not months. And not in this holiday camp.

I did not kill anyone.

We know about the money.

Emma Cryer and your own son were trying to get it out of you, weren't they?

I deny any part in these murders.

You had the means and the motive.

And you have no defense at all.

I would not have done it.

We're in no particular hurry, Mr Thornton, and I'm tired.

Sergeant Lewis, we’ll recommence at 9am.

Right.

I would not do it. They have to be alive.

Have to be alive?

For the numbers to work.

LEWIS: What numbers?

What numbers, Mr Thornton?

15 years is a long time.

My number's 14-11-56. I don't know Alex's, nor Lawrence's.

It's no good without theirs.

Numbers for a bank account.

- Where? - I don't know.

MORSE: 15 years, Brian.

Lichtenstein.

Banca Centrale.

I wanted to give the money back to make amends, I swear it,

but they wouldn’t agree.

You have to have all three numbers.

I'd never have tried to kill them, it doesn't make sense.

If you wanted to give the money back, why didn't you just tell us?

I didn't know what would happen.

I can't stand it in here. I don't deserve any more punishment.

Mr Thornton...you're a liar.

You will be charged with the murder of Lawrence Cryer and the attempted murder of Alex Bailey.

If Thornton needs Bailey's and Cryer's numbers to get the money, why try to bump them off?

How do you know he doesn't already know the numbers?

Are you going home?

It's not worth it.

I think I’ll go for a walk and then go into the station.

Right.

I'm off for a kip. See you later.

CHEETHAM: Brian Thornton.

The number is 14-11-56.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, Lichtenstein.

Great.

Mm-hm.

How's Mr Bailey?

Recovering.

Do you know what happened?

We think so.

Not much longer to go now.

Less than three weeks.

Any plans?

Plans.

I always imagined I'd leave here with my name cleared.

I can hardly go back to teaching.

16 years.

Poor old Guildford.

I never understood that name, Guildford.

Oh. It's a good joke, Guildford.

One of Mr Bailey's, in fact.

Charlie Bennett, the Guildford One.

Do you get it, Morse?

16 years for a crime you didn't commit.

Some joke.

- Mr Bailey likes a joke. - Yes.

ls there something you want to tell me?

Something you didn't think about at the time?

It's too late now.

Suppose you found something. What would it matter?

I've done my time. It's over.

- What's the point? - The point is we'd know the truth.

You mean you'd know. I already do.

I know and the man who murdered my wife knows.

What happened to him?

Harold Manners?

Harold Manners went away.

Far away?

Not far at all.

Morse!

Congratulations.

Thank you, sir.

- What for? - Well, allow yourself a moment of satisfaction.

Young Cheetham's just told me.

I shall take great personal pleasure in phoning the Serious Fraud boys and pointing them

- in the right direction. - Which is?

You are working on this case, are you?

Lichtenstein, seven million pounds.

Cheetham traced it, did he?

Yes, sir.

- Congratulations. - Thank you.

Yes. We should get it back.

STRANGE: Bloody well done, both of you.

it’ll be a feather in your cap.

Thank you, sir.

You’ll be onto the DPP about Thornton, will you?

I'm waiting on Forensic.

He's not going anywhere, is he?

Is that the file?

No, no. This is something else entirely.

Charlie Bennett.

- Wife murderer at Farnleigh. - Oh, yes! Um...

Physics teacher,

- or something, I remember. - No.

I don't think it was physics, sir.

He's due out in three weeks. Still claims he didn't do it.

Didn't do it? They found him brick in hand,

covered in blood, as I recall.

There are some questionable aspects when you look at it now.

Oh, it's a bit late to bother now, isn't it?

It was Frampton

who nicked him, mind you.

CHEETHAM: Who? - DI Frampton.

Currently doing five years for corruption.

He used to be a real high-flyer, Cheetham.

Seven million quid...

My word.

It's almost worth doing 18 months for that sort of cash.

Tim in Forensic, please.

Thanks. I’ll hold.

Tim?

Have you got anything on that Farnleigh stuff?

Ta.

Sir!

They've traced the poison.

It was in those chocolates Bailey's wife sent for him.

- So? Do you want to arrest her? - No.

Look, we found a syringe in Thornton's locker. He did it with that.

Yeah, but I gave the chocolates to Harris to give to Bailey.

- Harris? - The warder.

All those threatening letters were printed on a machine identical to that in Mrs Stevens' office.

Harris is friendly with her secretary Laura.

And his stepmother lost her home and all her savings

because of Cryer Investments.

Yes, I wrote the letters.

I didn't kill anyone.

And where did you type them?

I typed them. What does it matter where?

- Where?! - I didn't kill anyone.

Where?

Laura.

She typed them.

I made her.

What a mess. I just wanted to put the wind up...

- not kill him. - And what about Cryer?

I didn't kill no-one, you understand? No-one!

Not him, not Bailey...

I think he's a total bastard, but I didn't touch him.

He runs this prison like it's his office. Everyone gets the blame except him.

Me, poor bloody George Newcombe, his hippy pal,

Guildford...

and now Laura.

God...

what a mess.

And what about the chocolates?

I didn't touch the chocolates.

Bailey's hippy pal. Sherman?

- Roland Sherman? - Yes. That's right.

How do you know him?

I stopped Charlie Bennett trying to knock his teeth out.

When?

When?

Oh, two...three months ago.

Easter time, it was.

What happened?

Bennett went ape. Went for Sherman.

Bennett may be a dope, but he's got a wild temper.

Come on, Lewis.

- What? - Strange was wrong.

Bennett didn't teach physics.

Just find out where he is and hold on to him if you do.

MAN: Right, sir. - And keep trying the phone.

I don't understand.

There.

Look.

Roland Sherman, Harold Manners.

It's the same person.

Sherman's a crossword freak, Lewis.

It's an anagram.

So what's all this about physics?

Bennett didn't teach physics, he taught chemistry.

Drugs, Lewis!

He knows about drugs. Digoxin.

I'd meant to make my getaway.

The perfect crime.

I just lost track of time.

Do you know who he is?

Roland Sherman.

Harold Manners.

Did he confess before he died?

Why should he?

He knew he'd killed her, so did I.

I think he knew why I'd come.

He opened the door to me, carrying one of his eternal newspapers.

He walked into his computer room, I followed close behind.

As he turned, I struck him in the chest.

I emptied this into him.

Why did he kill your wife?

The root of all evil, Morse.

Money.

Sherman always had a thing about money.

Stocks and shares. Fiddling.

My wife had money. A legacy.

When she told him she wouldn't back one of his schemes, he flipped.

He smashed her skull in.

And then, at Easter, you saw him at Farnleigh.

In the entrance to the prison.

He pretended not to recognise me...

..the man who had ruined my life.

Such a rage took hold of me, Morse.

Why did you want to kill Bailey?

I told Bailey who Sherman was, what he had done.

He didn't believe me.

Then I knew if I was going to kill Sherman and escape,

Bailey had to die too.

And he laughed at me, Morse.

Mocked even the fact that I was innocent.

He made a joke of it.

LEWIS: And Cryer?

I didn't mean to kill him.

MORSE: But you did.

It was an accident.

He surprised me in Bailey's cell. We fought.

What do you feel now, Charlie?

That I've achieved justice for myself.

Prison has unjustly been one third of my life.

Why shouldn't it justly be the rest?

LEWIS: Bailey laughed at him.

Not much of a motive for murder.

MORSE: Isn't it?

Imagine, Lewis.

16 years for a crime you didn't commit.

Someone laughs at you.

Mocks you.

Gives you a funny name.

He took away Bennett's dignity.

What about the Thorntons and the others?

MORSE: Serious Fraud can untangle that.

Hyenas.

At least they lost their nest egg, Lewis.

That's probably punishment enough.

We've got the money back. A lot of people'll be grateful for that.

The money.

That was the problem. I couldn't see the people.

I’ll leave you to um...

I'm going to get some sleep.

- What's all this about Bennett, Robbie? - Bennett masterminded the whole scam.

He was set up in Farnleigh by a syndicate in the Cayman Islands

to access Cryer's Lichtenstein account.

No...

♪ BACH: Erkenne Mich Mein Hüter Chorale from St Matthew Passion

I didn't want to commit another discourtesy.

Beyond the wrapping up of some red tape, our inquiries are completed.

Thank you.

Mine, I'm afraid, are not. I've been invited to London.

The Home Office wants an immediate report on the goings-on at Farnleigh.

All my work.

Those who want to stifle the Farnleigh experiment have all the ammunition needed.

You won't give up?

No!

But I’ll never get such a chance again.

Goodbye.