All language subtitles for S08E05.The.RemorsefulDay

I'd almost given up on you.

You'd better come in.

Sir.

Well, well, well. You dirty devil.

Sandra Harrison.

You said tonight.

Can't you finish it tomorrow?
I could do with some comforting.

Everything else is in working order.

RADIO:
"At 11, the news and weather."

"Just time to slip in one of my -"

Lower Swinstead.
Sorry, sir?

Lower Swinstead!
Right you are. No need to shout.

Quick as you can!

Thank you, sir.

Anything?
Not yet, sir.

Be sure to get the bloodstain.

No sign of a struggle.

Sir. Looks like a love letter.

Will you come and see me

for some... post-operative therapy?

I'm a terrible chatterbox,

but I'm sure you can
think of a way to shut me up.

The Yvonne Harrison murder
last year? Bit of a dead duck.

Well, it just quacked again.

Why are anonymous letters
always written in capitals?

I don't know. Why are anon-

It's not a joke!
Oh. Sorry, sir.

Sit down.

'You should have looked longer...
to find out who done that nurse in.'

'Yvonne Harrison, I mean.'

'There's a bloke due out
of Bullingdon on Friday.'

'Keep a close eye on him.'

'PS, See you in The Maiden's
if you'll buy me a pint.'

Wasn't this
the Chief Inspector's case?

Yes. Briefly. I took over from him.

He wasn't
temperamentally suited to it.

I was on my
inspectors' course at the time.

Yes, so you were.

Incidentally, sir, any news there?

It's been a while.
And after the effort I put in -

I know. Flying colours, too.

But inspector vacancies
don't grow on trees.

Isn't Morse going?

Blimey! Steady, the Buffs!

He still has two more months.

Patience is a virtue, Lewis.

Yes, sir.

He starts back tomorrow
on full duties,

and I don't want you
snapping at his heels.

It comes to all of us, retirement.

Just think of all that golf, sir.

I don't want to be put off my stroke
by an unsolved murder!

You want me to see
who's due for release tomorrow?

I've done it. The only one with
a possible connection is Harry Repp.

Habitual housebreaker.

He was sent down for 12-month -
just after the murder.

What's the connection?

He's from Lower Swinstead.

The letter was
postmarked from there.

It's a bit tenuous, sir.
It's a start, Lewis!

I want you to keep an eye on him.

See who he meets, where he goes.

Meanwhile I've given the press
a sniff of something.

Nothing about the letter,

but it might stir things up a bit.
It's all in there.

How do you find Morse these days?

He's not a well man, is he, sir?

He should have retired 18 months ago
after that first scare.

And a bit grumpy at the moment.

No change there, then!

PHONE RINGS

Lewis.

Oh, hello, sir.
I was just talking about you.

To the chief super.

Oh, yes, sir. All good!

PA: "Mr Sinclair
to Outpatients Reception."

Sandra! You look
especially fragrant this morning.

Do I, Sir Lionel?

Sandra,... how many times...?

No need for the silly old handle.

Respect where it's due.

I was never keen
on over-familiarity.

I insist. Hm?

I really do.

Well...

See you this afternoon, then.
Hm?

At Dr Wells' leaving do?

Is that today?
I promised to rehearse -

noodle that I am!

He'll have to live with
the disappointment, I'm afraid.

I'm sure he'll try,... Lionel.

# Libera me, Domine... #

Yes?

Yes, Dad. Just seen it.

Shall I call Simon?

# GRIEG: Peer Gynt, Morning

Lewis.

Very nice, sir.

Very nice.

It's the one
you gave me in hospital.

Oh, good.

'Classical Charisma.'

I thought you might like something
lighter for a change. A compilation.

Very thoughtful. And I play it.

As often as I can.

Oh, don't put it off, sir,
if you're enjoying it.

Coffee?

I can't stop, I'm afraid.

Was there something special?

No. No. Not really.

Though now you're here,

I saw something in the paper
about the Harrison case.

Bit of a wild goose chase
if you ask me.

The super got an anonymous letter

about some burglar due out
of Bullingdon tomorrow.

Wants me to keep tabs on him.
I don't think a burglar killed her.

Well, there was a window smashed.

And the alarm was on when
the husband - Frank? - found her.

Lewis, she was naked, gagged,

tied to a bed with her head
bashed in - and nothing was stolen!

Who is it, anyway?

Harry Repp. Do you know him?

We've had a run-in or two.

He's nasty, but not that nasty.

None of her family looked likely.

Husband, son Simon, daughter Susan.

Sandra.

Yes.

So you think the break-in
was just coincidence, then?

Confusing, though.

Like that burglar alarm.

What about it?

Something, I... can't remember now.

Still... it's your case, Lewis.

Now it is, yeah.

It was yours, though, first off.

Strange mentioned that, did he?

In passing.

He didn't say why he took me off it
by any chance?

No.

You must have
some idea, surely, sir?

Strange by name...

How's Miss Cecil, sir? Adele?

Back from Australia soon, isn't she?

No. She's staying there.

There it is again!

New hobby, sir?

I'll have a lot of time
on my hands when I retire.

Lovely little chap.

Now, where is he?
Could I see, sir?

It's never too late
to develop a new interest, Lewis.

Something rewarding, absorbing...

It's a little girl, actually.

Immature female of the species.

You impress me, Lewis.
Which species?

Passer domesticus.
Is it?

Exoticism in an Oxford Garden.

And all for a few nuts.

It's a common house sparrow, sir.

Ah.

Idiot!

Damn and blast!

'Sounds a right royal
cock-up, Lewis.'

'Thank you, sir. That's a big help.'

I hope for your sake
Repp hasn't come to harm.

What? Why should he?

Stranger things have happened.

Look, think back.

Was there anything at all,

anything, however trivial,

that happened while you
were following this bus

from Bullingdon to Bicester?

What's that to do with it? He was
definitely on the bus at Bicester.

He changed on to the Oxford bus.
And it's nonstop.

Then he couldn't have been
on the bus when it left Bicester.

Perhaps someone saw him and gave
him a lift from the bus station.

If they did, he never got home.

I phoned his wife Debbie.
I'm off to see her.

If that someone saw him,
it was either a coincidence -

Or that someone was following him.

Well?

There was a car got in the way,
soon after Bullingdon.

It stayed between me and the bus
almost to Bicester.

Colour? Registration?

I was concentrating
on the bus, wasn't I?

Anything behind you?
Behind me?!

It's not the panto season, Lewis.

Yes. Was anyone following you?
Oh, not that I noticed.

The black car in front of you
was R309 UHM.

Stolen two days ago
from Gerrard's Cross.

Shut your mouth.
There's a bus coming.

You mean you followed me?

Nah! I'd have seen you!

I wasn't in my own car.
I used an unmarked job.

Why?!

I think
a thank-you first, don't you?

Thank you?!

You muscle in
without so much as a by-your-leave

and do nothing when you see Repp
getting into a hot car!

I didn't say I'd seen that happen.
I was surmising.

But you were at the bus station?
Yes.

But as you answered an urgent need
for the football results,

I was answering an equally urgent
one for a little micturition...

as they'd say in the Radcliffe.

Eh?!

I needed a pee.

Look! This is my case!

Yes. No need to get
on your high horse, Lewis.

Why are you
so interested in it, anyway?

A helping hand, that's all.

I'm not exactly wet behind the ears!

I'll be an inspector soon if -

if there's any justice in the world!

I'm not sure there is, Lewis.

Mr Morse?

Dr Wale has retired.
Oh, I'll miss him.

You're much prettier, though.

Very like your mother.

Did you know my mother?
She nursed me once.

Most attentively, too.

No sign of him yet.
He's probably down the boozer.

Can I come in?

No. It's not convenient.

We have unconfirmed information that
may implicate Harry in a murder.

Harry? He's a burglar! Who said?

An anonymous source.

Anonymous?

Like a letter? I can't tell you,
I'm afraid, Debbie.

That's why that other copper

was asking if Harry ever got me
to post a letter from inside.

What other copper?

It doesn't make sense.

He wouldn't grass himself up.
Specially if he'd done nothing.

What copper?!

Last night.

Moss, wasn't it?

I love them old cars, don't you?

It's a much higher reading
than we'd like. How are your units?

I drink pints. Not units.
Much tastier.

I want you to be clear about this.

You will never,
clinically speaking,

get any better than you are now.

Very possibly you will get worse.

But if you minimise your alcohol
intake, you may feel a bit better.

Maintenance, not repair.

At best. It's up to you now.

Thank you.

Is there anything
you'd like to ask?

You've been very frank.

There... there is something, Doctor.

Yes?

You know I'm a police officer.

Doubtless you've read
in the press of a development

in the inquiry
into your mother's murder.

But you haven't asked me
about it, have you? Why not?

Would you tell me?

It's not my case.

Although initially I did see...

I was... at the scene
of the crime... that night.

It's something I'm trying very hard
to forget, Inspector.

Well, that just takes the biscuit!

Lewis?

I'm sorry, sir, but
what the hell are you playing at?

First you follow me, and then -
well, rather, before -

you question Debbie Repp
about her old man!

Where's your car?

All right, Lewis, you've made your
point. If I trod on your toes -

Anyway, shouldn't you
be taking it easy?

Probably. Yes.

You think
something's happened to Repp?

He was afraid.

I think
he wrote that letter himself,

and got Debbie to post it

so we'd keep an eye out for him.

Why not come straight to us?

Harry Repp! Go for help to the Law?

No, he was hedging his bets,

putting himself under
police surveillance in case -

Oh, I don't know!

Isn't it your round?

You think another one's
a good idea?

Think.

That's why I want it. To think.

I don't drink for pleasure!

You are all right, sir?

Better off than Harry Repp,
I suppose.

At least I'll have a retirement.

Bird-watching, Wagner...

You know... you really should
persevere with Wagner, Lewis.

It's about...

important things.

Life and death.

Regret.

Cheer up, sir.

It's a lovely evening.
Look at that sunset.

'Ensanguining the skies,

'How heavily it dies

'Into the west away,

'Past touch, and sight, and sound,

'Not further to be found,

'How hopeless, underground,

'Falls the remorseful day.'

I hate to say I told you so.

Time of death?

Dr Hobson's examining him now.

The chief super's just arrived, too.

Several stab wounds.
No sign of a weapon, of course.

Cheer up, Lewis.
Could happen to anyone.

What could?

Taking your eye off the ball for
a moment, as you did with that bus.

Thanks.

They don't provide
clothes pegs, do they?

About taking my eye off the ball -

Don't lose sleep over it! I wouldn't!
Repp was a cheap and nasty little crook.

You might be right.

I know I am! Good riddance!

But the thing is, it's not him.

Nothing in the pockets?
Nope.

Well, if it's not Repp, who is it?
Search me.

The name's Paddy Flynn. I had him in
for questioning on Yvonne's murder.

You mean - The taxi driver who picked
Harrison up at Oxford station.

Which was Harrison's alibi!

Yes. Doctor, anything?

Death occurred in the last 24 hours
and not here.

Can't you be less precise?

Wrong side of the bed today?

Thank you, Doctor.

Is that it?

Until the postmortem.

And it's no good sighing.

Did I?
When don't you?

Is there anything
to indicate how the body got here?

Two theories, Chief Inspector.

One: It was dropped
from a low aircraft.

Two: It was driven here.

On the whole, I'd say the latter.

You deserved that, matey.

It's just... doctors, at the moment.

Look, if you're still not 100 per
cent I can put someone else on this.

I'm as fit as a fiddle, sir!

Very well. You're in charge, then.

But if Flynn's murder
is linked with Yvonne's -

If, sir?! Yes, Lewis. Don't jump to
conclusions.

If it was just him, no.
But with Repp's disappearance -

But if there is a link,
and if you ever feel this case is -

Well, if you... if you don't feel...
um... up to par at any time...

just say the word
and I'll understand, I promise.

Whoo! If I stay here any longer

I'll need a hose-down
before I address the Rotary Club!

Cheers.
Sir.

Coffee?

I like to keep going
once I've started.

I know you do, John.
Wait till dinner time, then?

If it's all the same, yeah.

We might have
something nicer than coffee

to go with your sandwiches.

Oh, yeah? What's that, then?

Surprise.

It will be, if Harry walks in.

He won't.

How do you know?

It's either straight home
as soon as he's out,

or two days of boozers
and betting shops with Harry.

He don't know what he's missing.

How many people were in that car
between you and the bus?

Two, I think. Men.

Could one of them have been Flynn?

Might have been.

On the passenger side.

Sir! Location?

Is it Repp?

Yeah.

Stabbed, like Flynn.

Do you want a closer look
before Dr Hobson arrives?

Not much.

I'd go home if I was you.
Well, you're not me!

I can cope here.

You might feel
a bit fresher tomorrow.

Lewis,... don't fuss.

Now...

Now the car was stolen, so...

The car was stolen,
so murder was in mind.

Assuming Flynn was the passenger,

he and the killer pick up Repp
from the bus station.

Nobody reported a struggle,

so he went more or less willingly.

And our man,
with Flynn's help, kills Repp.

No. Flynn died first.
Why?

It takes two men to bag a body
and dump it where they found Flynn,

only one
to heave a body into a car boot.

There was something just too -

- just too pat
about Flynn's statement.

He said he picked up Frank Harrison
at exactly 11.

The news headlines came on

on the dot,

as Harrison got into his taxi.

It was as if he'd been schooled
in a nice, simple answer.

By Harrison?

Bloody things.
No-one takes a blind bit of notice.

You think
Harrison wasn't on that train?

The burglar alarm.

It should have cut out
after 30 minutes.

But it was ringing when the area
car responded to the 999 call.

Yet according to Dr Hobson,
Yvonne...

Harrison had been dead for at least
two hours before she was found.

Perhaps Repp broke in,
setting off the alarm,

found her already murdered.

So why not steal the silver?

Panic?
Somebody did.

I say! Somewhere nice?

The Randolph.
Dinner with the family.

Time for a cocktail first,
if you'd permit me?

I don't think so.
Where's your sense of adventure?

Excuse me.

So much for genetics.

I beg your pardon, Lionel?

Your mother had
a matchless sense of adventure.

And there are moments when 'Sir'
is most deliciously appropriate.

I wondered if you'd inherited her...

characteristics.

Who'd want to kill Harry?

He was harmless enough.

He put you in hospital once.

That was years ago.

He's been as good as gold since.

That letter he got you to post...

I never said he did.

We can check it for his
fingerprints. Yours, if need be.

He never told me what was in it.

I kept my nose out of
anything to do with his work.

Did he work the night
Yvonne Harrison was killed?

Well, he could have. But...

The way she was found...

Sex? And Harry?

No. Believe you me, I know.

Unlike that Yvonne.

Knickers up and down like a yo-yo.

Who says?

It was common knowledge
at The Maiden's Arms.

You can live in a posh house
and be a scrubber!

It must have been hard for you,

managing, with Harry in prison.

Managing?
For money.

Company.

You get used to it.

When you're ready, Chas.

Busy? -Ish. Just finishing a little
job for Debbie Repp.

She likes a man
who's handy with his filler, I hear.

Your mind!
Your reputation!

Here, I'm doing a bit of roofing
in the morning. Burford. Nice widow.

Go on.
Small.

Petite?

Oh, yeah! Blue eyes.
How old?

Oh - 75, 76?
Get out!

Perfect for you.

Coffee, sir?

Simon...

Coffee.

Thank you.

Just leave the pot, would you?
Yes, sir.

So...

What are we going to do?

Stop him, Dad. It can't go on.

Sandra?

It depends how.
You know how!

It's difficult for me. For all of
us. More for me.

Whose fault's that? Yours!
Stop it.

The whole thing.

Anyway, you said he deserved it.

He does.

Well, then.

Sandra...

Well... how?

Frank Harrison.

Hold on.

This is your mess.

You know damn well,
if she hadn't been -

Don't you dare!

Don't you dare...

Is everything all right, madam?

Yes.

We're... keeping it in the family.

Family!

Sir!

Paddy Flynn's bed-sit.

Seventeen thousand pounds.

And I spoke
to Repp's building society.

Cash deposits monthly for the last
eleven - much the same amount.

Go careful.

Ta-ra!

You trying to get yourself killed?

It's obvious, isn't it? Blackmail.

I don't like the obvious.

I know you don't, sir,
but sometimes it's just - obvious.

Where else would Repp and Flynn
get that sort of money -

and starting
just after Yvonne's murder?

Who were they blackmailing, then?
Not Frank Harrison.

Not for murder, at least.

Unless he got two colleagues and
a ticket collector to lie for him,

he was definitely
on the 9:48 from Paddington.

Yvonne was dead by 9:30.

But probably still alive at nine.

Why?

Wasn't there a witness statement?

Someone who phoned the house at nine
and got the engaged signal.

Yeah. Again about half an hour
later, but there was no answer.

'She asked me to call
to give her my estimate.'

Estimate?

For building work, sir.

Barrett? Something like that?

Barron. John Barron.

Sir?

The preliminary autopsy reports
on Repp and Flynn.

The knife had a very sharp
but short blade, triangular.

Tentative conclusion -

a Stanley knife, or similar.

But Yvonne
wasn't stabbed, was she?

Her head was bashed in
with some metal tube.

A length of piping, perhaps.

Why your sudden interest
in John Barron?

Suppose he was lying
about those phone calls.

We've only his word.
Maybe he was at the house.

Someone was... enjoying themselves
with Mrs Harrison.

But why Barron?

I saw his van by Debbie's house.

She's having her patio done.

I think it was more the bedroom
this afternoon.

If Barron is in the habit of doing
a bit extra for women customers -

Oh,
not Yvonne Harrison, surely, sir?

A respectable married nurse,

having, well, kinky rumpy-pumpy with
a man she hardly knows? At her age?

It's not unknown, Lewis.

Well, let's get him in!

Sir?

Barron'll keep till the morning.

Get me some water, would you?

Right, sir.

ANNOUNCER: "Just coming up to 7:30.

"Later today,
our composer of the week."

Morning.
Good timing, Mr Barron.

Like a cup of tea before you start?

Just letting you know I'm here.
I'll get on.

As you wish, my dear.
You will be careful up there?

Don't worry about me.
Go and enjoy your tea.

MUSIC ON RADIO

How are you getting on?

Yeah, I'm all right, love.

Hey! Watch it!

Oh, I hope it wasn't me
putting him off.

I'm sure it wasn't your fault.

You...

You didn't actually see him fall?

No.

One moment he was there...

That runner
would have seen it, though.

Runner?
Yes. You know. Jogger.

He'd have seen it happen. Or she.

You can't tell
these days, can you?

Brand new. If one of these killed
Repp and Flynn, it's gone now.

If it did.

You seemed pretty certain
last night, sir.

Where would Barron get money
to pay them off, though?

Over £30,000.

Unless he didn't kill Yvonne and all
three were blackmailing whoever did.

Great minds, Lewis.

They meet up
when Repp gets out of jail.

Let's say there's
a falling-out amongst thieves.

Flynn is stabbed,
and the split is two-way.

Then Repp is stabbed, and Barron
has the golden goose to himself.

Till the goose turns nasty.

Frank Harrison?

It can't be him!

Is there anything in here

that could have killed Yvonne?

There's these.

I'll get them down to the lab but...

after all this time...

Of course,
people do fall off ladders.

And nobody saw anything, did they?
Mrs Bayley did.

Sorry, everyone!

Twenty-two.

No, that's a twenty-one.

What a naughty nurse you are.

And you know
what naughty nurses deserve.

Dr Harrison,
I was hoping to have a few words.

Professionally?
On my part, yes.

Good afternoon, sir.

A glass of Chardonnay...

and I'll have a large...

tonic water, no ice.
Certainly, sir.

Do you know a man
called John Barron?

By sight. A builder. He worked on
my parents' house once, I believe.

He died this morning.

Oh.

Did your mother -

know him well?

As well as one knows one's builder,
I imagine.

He lived in the village.

My mother had no time
for village life.

She was far too busy.

I assume she didn't need to work.

They were comfortable
but she liked her independence.

You lead a busy life, too, I expect?

The Radcliffe can be hectic.

Today, for example, I was in at...

ooh, must have been seven o'clock,

just to catch up with mail.

Seven.
'Fraid so.

Luckily, my admin assistant's an
early bird and does the extra time.

How did Mr Barron die?

He fell from a ladder.

Was it - ?

Did he suffer?

Death was instantaneous.

Though one can imagine
a certain anguish

in the second or so he took to fall.

It probably seemed
much longer to him.

Yes.

Do you know where your father
and brother were this morning?

You'll have to ask them.
I must get back.

Bird Watching?

Yes, Chief Inspector.
At Stokenchurch.

I often go
before I open up in the morning.

Hoping to see the red kite.
Still hoping, actually.

Not much luck so far.

You're a keen twitcher, are you?
Clean picture?

Twitcher.
You're a keen bird-watcher.

Sorry. I'm getting worse.

I should have kept up
my lip-reading.

Very keen. I went all the way to
Llandudno last year to see the kite.

You had to till they
introduced a few at Stokenchurch.

You went alone this morning?

Yes, I was. I went by myself.

Do you mind if I browse?
Help yourself, Chief Inspector.

Crime section?

How much for this? I dabble.

Do you?

Roy, make us a coffee.
There's a good boy.

I'm busy, all right?

Sir?
I thought you might fancy a pint.

How was Frank Harrison?

Smooth, in a word.

Smooth secretary,
smooth offices, smooth answers.

Was he in London
at his usual time this morning?

According to his staff.

Did he seem surprised about Barron?

Seemed. Yeah. But he is
in public relations, after all.

When I said Barron
might have been a blackmailer,

he rushed to show me
his bank statements.

And?

Nothing that I could see.
Where are we going?

I thought to the warm embrace
of The Maiden's Arms.

Lewis.

Yeah, I know it.

Right. Thanks.

Looks like your maiden'll
have to wait, sir.

It was the red top like it said
in the paper that made me think.

I can't tell you who it was, but
I can recall some of the car number.

It was the same as my first three
lottery numbers... 5... 8... 9...

with a J before them.

I'm a Julia, you see. So it stuck.

J for Julia.

Thank you. You've been most helpful.

Don't dawdle, Lewis.

Yeah. Thanks very much.

Yeah... J589 YCY,

registered to Simon Harrison.

Who wouldn't know
a red kite from a red cabbage.

It's Llandovery, not Llandudno.

A slip you might make
if you were concocting an alibi

from the first thing
that came to hand.

"Thames Valley Police
are quizzing a man

over the death of a builder."

"John Barron died today when
he fell from a ladder in Burford."

Mum, you got to take me
down the police.

No comment, Mr Harrison?!

You make up some story about being
in Stokenchurch to watch birds,

you lie to a police officer,
and you say 'No comment'?!

No comment.

Were you in Burford this morning,

wearing these?

I am showing Mr Harrison
some clothes

that were left at the charity shop

on The High, Oxford.

Mr Harrison is shaking his head.

Is that a 'No' or a 'No comment'?

It's a no.

Comment.

Are you prepared to answer questions

about your mother's murder
last year?

Why not?

A witness, sir.
Who?

Roy Holmes.
Just walked in with his mum.

Go on. Tell him.

Go on.

Can I have a drink, yeah?

My mother was wonderful to me.

Loving... protective...

It's not much fun having to start
wearing one of these in your teens.

But she'd always listen to me.

And I to her.

We got used to sharing confidences.

When she was murdered...

Yes?

Chief Inspector,
it was me in Burford this morning.

Thank you, Mr Harrison.

Now perhaps you'd tell me why.

Because John Barron murdered
my mother. And I had to kill him.

In Burford this morning on my bike,

I'm riding down the street and um...

I see this geezer up a ladder,
right at the top.

He'd been to the shop yesterday
to quote me for some decorating.

He mentioned he'd be in Burford
doing a roof or something.

So I grabbed my chance.

All I had to do was
kick the ladder as I jogged past.

This other geezer is jogging,
from the other way.

But then I saw this kid
on his bicycle

doing all these stunts.
You know the sort of thing.

He almost ran into me
just as I got near Barron.

So, I gave him a wide berth...

and carried on past.

I don't think I hit the ladder hard.

I just sort of caught it.

But it came down,
and the geezer came down with it.

Hit the ground with his head.

I'm sorry.

Honest.

Roy.

It's a mess! First you get
Barron killing Repp and Flynn -

Then Simon Harrison killing Barron -

oh, no,
that was Roy Holmes with his bike!

And that was an accident
so you have to let them both go.

The coroner will love all that!

And what about Yvonne? Suicide?

She wasn't killed by Barron.
That much I'm -

almost sure of.

Well, Simon Harrison
thought she was.

All he knew is
they were having an affair.

If you'd call it that.

What does Lewis think?

Lewis?

You do take his opinions
on board sometimes, I hope.

Teamwork, Morse.

Is that all, sir?

If you're sure
you're on top of this case.

I can always arrange for you
to take things easier until you go.

If you'd prefer it.

Thank you, no, sir.

Right.

Wagner, Lewis?

Parsifal.

Yes, I know.

Vienna Philharmonic. Conductor
by the name of Knappersbush.

Well...

Thou art a man of taste. Keep it up.

Incidentally, we pronounce it
K-napper-ts-busch.

Right, sir. I'll try and remember.

It's the right shape,

the right size.

It's a bit heavier than I'd thought.

It might have killed
Yvonne Harrison.

But did it?
I'm not a detective, Morse.

How about an informed guess?

Certainly not. I inform you,
and then you do the guessing.

That's the usual procedure.

Any joy with the blood
in the stolen car?

Two different blood groups.

Flynn and Repp.

Pretty widespread,
as you'd expect from their wounds.

And both groups evident
in the prints taken by Dabs,

most belonging to John Barron.

Then Barron's accident
saved us a lot of trouble.

Is that what they teach
on the inspectors' course -

how to save yourself trouble?

He's not got long to go now, has he?

Er... retirement.

Oh.

You thought
I was speaking as a doctor?

Supposing you were?

He's not my patient.

You care about him, don't you?

He doesn't make it easy.

Magdalen Bridge was built in 1772
and spans the river Cherwell.

It draws on the classical tradition
of Oxford architecture.

Now, everybody, it's time to go.
Come along, please.

We're moving on now.
Tea in Woodstock.

I'm sorry.
I thought you were with us.

Well, you were wrong.

In essence, then,
you apportion your estate equally

between the Young Musicians'
Scholarship Fund,

Miss Adele Cecil
of - er - Australia,

and your colleague
Sgt Robert Lewis.

As for leaving your body to
the Radcliffe, ask them for a form.

They're not obliged to take you.

A fluctuating demand
for cadavers, it seems.

Unless you die
of something quite exotic.

Right to the top of the heap.

I doubt I'll manage exotic.

Banal, I suspect.

Oh, yes...

No service, religious or otherwise?

Expressly forbidden.

# The day thou gavest, Lord,
is ended

# The darkness falls at thy behest

(That's Barron's widow, Linda.)

(Debbie Repp you know.)

(Frank Harrison.)

# Thy praise shall sanctify our rest

Weddings and funerals
loosen tongues, in my experience.

So, eyes and ears, Lewis.

Sir, Paddy Flynn's widow, Josie.

Not another of Barron's conquests!

Did the man ever do any work?!

We therefore
commit his body to the ground.

Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

In the midst of life...

Mr Harrison.

Inspector...?
Chief Inspector Morse, sir.

Yes. You spoke to me at the house.

When I found my wife.

That's right.

Well...
a good turn-out, as they say.

John was well-liked in the village.

We're a tight little community.

I'm sorry Simon
led you that silly dance.

He and his mother were very close.

Do you believe Barron killed her?

It's quite possible, isn't it?

He could have been lying
about phoning her when he said.

I did, by the way, know
about their goings-on.

Did your daughter?

She does now.

Weren't you angry with your wife?

We'd been married over 30 years.

Yvonne was a woman
of considerable appetite for life.

And you, Mr Harrison?

Once upon a time.

A few wild oats. Didn't we all?

Excuse me.
Liz Holmes was once our cleaner.

She must be
feeling dreadful about this.

Sir... Mrs Flynn.

I'm sorry about your husband.

Me, too, in a way.
Even if I did throw him out.

Mrs Flynn was just telling me

how well she knew John Barron, sir.

Bless him.

I met John through Paddy.

Well, there are some men who just -
you know - do it for you.

Fit, funny when it's called for,

imaginative... Well,
Paddy failed three out of three.

The money that was found...

that your husband had -

Oh, no. No idea.

Good luck to the poor sod, though.

He'd have needed it soon enough.

Not a sniff of work
after the taxis sacked him.

Why was that?

He was going deaf.

Couldn't hear his radio.

Paddy never had a rich dad
to set him up in his own business.

Do you know Simon Harrison?

Paddy did. Lipreading classes.

For all the good it did him.

Hello.

I'm sorry, Mrs Barron. Josie Flynn.

Thanks. There's a little something
at The Maiden's. Do join us.

Eyes and ears.
Yes, sir.

Oo-ooh! You'll have to
give me a ride one day!

She's cheery, for this sort of do.

What was Sandra Harrison's alibi?

For her mother's murder?

She'd spent the evening in her flat.

Sprained her ankle at work.

It was checked. Quite
a serious sprain, Casualty said.

I wonder how deaf Paddy Flynn was.

Why, sir?

Would he have heard the burglar
alarm - even if it was ringing?

My husband
played the field, Mr Morse.

No point pretending he didn't.

But I knew what he was like
when I married him.

I wondered, Mrs Barron...

I don't want to upset you...

But did it ever cross your mind

that your husband
might have been deliberately killed?

It was the first thing I thought of.

A jealous husband, one of his bits
that wasn't getting enough...

Spread himself thin, did John.

Your boss should
keep his hand on his ha'penny.

That man-eater even wore John out.

Occupational hazard for Barron,
so I hear.

Good job he was fit.

The only time I saw his strike rate
go down was when he had his op.

He was never a worrier.

But that's how you get ulcers,
isn't it? Worry?

Where was John Barron in hospital?

Down the Radcliffe.

Gastro... thingy?
Yeah. If you say so.

Chas, two more single malts, please.
Big ones. Get the chill out.

You're much more fun
than your sergeant.

Is he waiting for me?

Let him. You're enjoying yourself.

Cheers.
To you.

What's your first name?

Inspector.

Tease!

Can you keep a secret?

Confidentially, Debbie,

we suspect
John Barron killed your husband.

Whatever Harry did,
he didn't deserve that.

Go on. Drink up.

What did Harry do?

Go on. 'Eat, drink and be merry,
for tomorrow -'

What is it?

'For tomorrow never comes'?

No. What is it?
I don't remember.

Are you just talking to me
because you want to know about him?

No.

I think I do know.

He was there that night, wasn't he?

Never talk to a copper, Harry said.

Does it matter now?
Three men dead...

three widows...

and poor, poor Yvonne.

He was going to do the house.

But when he saw John go in,
he cleared off sharpish.

Then he heard about the murder

and thought John had done it.

And threatened to blackmail him.

But John told him
he'd seen who really did it.

And so had Paddy Flynn.

So they all got together
and made a lot of money.

But Paddy and Harry kept going on
all the time at him for more.

John must have had enough.
Lost it with them.

And?

Who killed Yvonne?

You're the clever one.

All John said to me was, um...

A bit of class, darling.

He wouldn't tell Harry, neither.

Quite right, Lewis.

Time to go.

You are clever, though.

Aren't you?

For what it's worth.

A bit early, isn't it, Roy?

What?

What's dead long ago,
and Pardon took its place.

What?

Is that it?

I hope you weren't stoned
at Burford that day.

No. Not at all. Honest.
How old are you? Sixteen?

So? How old were you
when you started drinking?

This - is illegal.

Albeit a pathetic little
slap-on-the-wrist quantity.

Spend your money
on something better.

Like a book.

You can't afford it.

No.

Come on. Rehearsal.

Ask Sgt Lewis
to come in and see me, please.

Yes? Why did you tell me you only
knew John Barron by sight?

I'm very busy, Inspector.

Barron was your patient, wasn't he?

Is that how it started?

How what started?

Your affair.

You're confusing me with my mother.

A shock,
to find her in bed with your lover.

Yes. I imagine I'd have killed her.

If Barron had been my lover.

If I hadn't been at home
with a sprained ankle.

Which one?
The left.

You drive an automatic.
There are taxis.

John Barron
stopped being a patient here

two years and three months ago.

I've been here 18 months.

He'd have seen
the late Dr Chowdrey or Dr Whale.

And he'd have met Sir Lionel.

Now, unless there's anything else...

Changing offices?
Changing hospitals.

And countries. I've taken a rather
attractive job in Vancouver.

When do you go?

Soon.

Please, don't leave the country
without telling me, Doctor.

If you insist.

Your mother was very good to me
while I was in here.

My mother was a perverted whore.

Thankfully, in Canada
I will no longer be in contact

with a man
who delights in reminding me of it

and intimates
he'd like to use me as he used her.

This is difficult for me, Lewis.

But I'm going to show you something.

What you do with it is up to you.

Sir?

I've always tried to go by the book,
ever since I joined the force.

Now I'm going soon,
and I want to sleep soundly

and not worry over a thing
I should never have done.

I acted improperly
for the benefit of a fellow officer.

It was only
to save him embarrassment.

This was found in Yvonne Harrison's
room on the night of the murder.

You'll know the writing.

# Libera me, Domine

# Per mortem aeterna

# Libera me

# Domine #

Philippa
has to twiddle with her diapasons.

So we'll take a break here,

and go into In Paradisum after.

Sir Lionel, that was wonderful.
Thank you.

Hidden talents.
Hmm.

Do you?
No. I know!

'Do as I say...'

Quite!

Yvonne Harrison, Sir Lionel?

Erm...

So you're wearing
your policeman's hat?

Yes.
Much as I enjoy Faure's Requiem.

You sing the Libera Me
with considerable feeling,

if I may say so.
You may.

'Libera me, Domine.'

'Set me free, Lord.'

Or 'Master'.

'Let me go,... Master.'

Is that what you liked
to hear her say?

Dr Harrison's obviously
been spilling the beans.

You're not shocked, surely?

Her mother and I shared
a mutual and loving interest

in the erotic dynamic
of power and... submission.

Kinky rumpy-pumpy is what
my sergeant would call it.

Snappier.

You're looking a bit peaky.

Late night.

Am I really a suspect?

Why on earth would I kill a source
of a great deal of pleasure?

Perhaps she'd had enough of you.

Enough? Huh. Yvonne didn't know
the meaning of the word.

As you must be aware.

We didn't just play our games.
We did chat at half-time.

And she told me
all sorts of things. Mmm.

Her men,... her husband's women.

Not that she was
in a position to mind about that.

Except for the child.
I think she did mind about him.

What child?

Well, Frank's,
by some woman in Swinstead.

He must be...

oh, sixteen or so now.

Yvonne didn't like Frank
keeping in touch, giving him money.

Do you know his name?

Oh... Ray... or...

Oh - Roy. Yes. Roy.

By the way... I was
in Oslo on a three-day conference

when the murder happened.

And, yes...

she did tell me about you.

But don't worry.

No details.

'I would rather be ill
and nursed by you

than to be in full health
and never see you again.'

'You were right when you said

you detected a deep longing in me.'

'I have waited for you
to get in touch, as you promised.'

'But there's been no phone call,
no letter... nothing.'

'If it was just something you said
to keep your patient happy,

then so be it.'

'All I can say is that for me -

Yes, Lewis. Roy Holmes.

Bring him in.

Conspiracy to pervert
the course of justice, for a start.

Uh... I'll call you later.

# FAURE REQUIEM: In Paradisum

Is he drunk?
Bit early in the day.

PA: "This is the final call
for Flight AC-897 to Vancouver."

They are very good here.

They did wonders
for my brother's heart attack.

Oh, aye, sir. Top doctors,
the right facilities.

Morse's heart, though!
As if he hadn't been through enough!

Why didn't he retire
when he had the chance?

Scared, I reckon.

Scared?

Of what his life was going to be.

Here...

You'd better have this back.

Why didn't he tell me, sir?

It's as if he -
He's always been an independent sod.

If he had told you, he'd have felt

he was letting himself down
in your eyes.

And he didn't want that, Lewis.
He didn't want that.

(I'm only allowed
a couple of minutes, sir.)

(Your pillow's a bit skew-wiff.)

Lewis,... don't fuss.

Sir, why didn't you tell me about -

Not now, Lewis.

What about Roy Holmes?

His father
kept him in pocket money

if he tipped him off
about Barron's whereabouts.

When Barron said he'd be up a ladder
in Burford, Roy phoned his dad.

Once we'd arrested Simon,

Roy was sent by his dad
with the story about the bike

to get Simon off the hook.

We're picking up
Frank and Simon Harrison now.

And Sandra?

Dr Harrison, sir?

Yes, Lewis.

Her alibi...

The murder weapon.

Harrison, two Rs, one S.

Vancouver, yeah. That's it.

Yeah. Lewis, Thames Valley.
I'm on my way.

She's checked in.
They'll stop her at the gate.

Well, get your skates on,
then, matey!

I'll stay with him.

Frank Harrison.
"Dad..."

I never said sorry...

but I am!

So am I -

Sandra...

"Goodbye."

What...

I didn't quite catch that, Morse.

Thank...

Lewis...

for me.

Nurse!

Lewis.

You'll have to shout, sir!

They gave you a metal crutch
on the day your mother died.

The Radcliffe keeps good records.

Why did you never return it, Doctor?

You know why.

Sgt Lewis,
Thames Valley car on its way.

John was supposed
to be coming to my flat.

But he phoned
to say he was working late.

I could tell he was lying.

So I dialled 1471.

It was my parents' house.

He was a man you had to share
if you wanted him at all.

And I wanted him. Ever since he did
some work at the house.

You are still under caution, Doctor.

He must have heard my car coming
and panicked.

I saw him run out to his van
and drive off.

And he saw me.

When I got upstairs...

I mean, the others, yes...

sharing...

But this was my mother.

My mother!

Like...

Like some disgusting pornographic -

Still a trace
of a smile of satisfaction.

So I -
Smashed her skull in.

Then called
to tell your father in London.

When he arrived, he broke a window
to set the alarm off,

and paid Flynn to tell us
it was going when the taxi arrived.

It was the best he could think of.

Except Flynn stayed watching
till he saw me coming out and -

Now he knew.

Then John asked for money

to say he'd tried
calling her twice that night.

More and more money.

Dad had to sell the silver.

Dear, dear...

You don't understand.

No.
Morse will.

Inspector Morse is dead!

# WAGNER: Parsifal Prelude

Goodbye, sir.