Endeavour (2013) s03e02 Episode Script
Arcadia
1 Tally-ho! No! - Annette, what a super outfit.
- Thanks.
I'm forever telling Pru she should make a bit of an effort and it'll take years off you.
Let me get you a drink.
Annette, gin and bitter lemon? What will you do with yourself now you're back from Harvard? He's gonna work at the supermarket for his old man.
Learn the ropes.
Er, just for the summer.
- Come to Richardsons supermarket - Dad? Who's had the Savoy Truffle? - Is there anything in it? - Who knows? Well, deal with it, Ivor.
Christ, what do I pay you for? Remind me.
You're a manager, aren't you? Manage! I don't take kindly to being hustled about a police station like a criminal! Who do you think you are? Calm down, sir, I'm just trying to do my job.
Will this take much longer? It's ridiculous.
I felt ill and my husband agreed to run me home.
Well, perhaps if you didn't drink so much you wouldn't feel quite so ill.
You're very rude.
No, Mrs Richardson, I am very busy.
- Are you going to charge them? - Apparently not.
But you might want to remind your father, when he's sobered up, that another month and the new Road Safety Act comes into law.
- It won't matter who he plays golf with then.
- I'm sorry if you were put to any trouble.
- Well, it's not your fault.
- It will be.
- You took your time.
- I was out.
Who were you saving this evening? Yellow ones or little brown ones? Little red ones, actually.
All right, all right.
Not tonight, for Christ's sake.
- Come on.
- Constable Nixon will see you out.
Aghh! Brigade had to axe their way through.
Morning, matey.
- Who's the, er? - Simon Hallward.
Early 20s.
What is he, some sort of artist or something? According to Mrs Cravat, his landlady.
Lived here about 18 months.
It's turps.
- Next of kin? - I've got Shirley talking to the neighbours.
Woman Police Constable Trewlove.
She's new.
Overcome by smoke most likely.
The fire's done the rest.
- Any idea as to cause? - Cigarette, left burning.
Room full of solvents.
Runners and riders, once I've completed the post-mortem.
Sheer hooliganism.
Throwing members of the public off the towpath? The boys' colleges have been spoken to.
They'll be gated for the rest of the term, but the victim didn't want to press charges.
- They bought him off, I suppose.
- Offered to pay for his dry-cleaning.
- Anything else? - Morse is looking into a fatal fire in Jericho.
Oh, and DC Parrish rang in sick this morning.
Tummy bug.
- How many does that make? - Three, sir, in CID.
And five on 'B' Relief.
Much more of it, we'll have to bus in reserves.
- You're all right, are you? - As ninepence, sir.
Touch wood.
Trewlove? I'm Detective Morse.
- Anything germane? - Not much.
The deceased moved in a year ago last February.
Nobody saw much of him.
Out at his studio in the day, in the Turf most nights.
- Friends? Girlfriend? - One or two models but no names, I'm afraid.
Last person to see him from here was a Miss Treadwell.
Ground floor flat.
She saw him heading out about seven last night.
There's some talk that he might have been at Beaufort.
And he was behind with the rent.
- What? - Your idea of "not much".
- Have I missed something? - No, no.
It is commendably thorough.
I don't suppose anyone knew if he was a night owl or an early riser? I can ask.
Why? Is it important? Wondered what he had to get up for so early.
The clock was stopped dead on five.
Not a few minutes to nor a few minutes past, but bang on the hour.
- Too neat, you mean? - What's this? Morse has some reservations about this death by fire.
What's new? No, go on.
Who was he? Simon Hallward.
Read Philosophy at Beaufort, only he dropped out last summer.
Joined a commune up by Boar's Hill run by a man called Gideon Finn.
- Calls himself Brother Gideon.
- Morse.
Sergeant Strange said I might find you here.
Trewlove.
This is Detective Inspector Thursday and DS Jakes.
- Constable.
- Wotcher.
I went by the Turf to ask after your man Hallward.
He was in there last night shortly after seven, on his usual Radfords, when he added a gin and bitter lemon to his order.
- So he had a woman with him.
- That was my thought.
No description though.
He was sat around the corner from the bar.
I just thought you'd want to know.
- Excellent use of initiative, Constable.
- Thank you, sir.
Morse.
Sergeant.
You sickening for something? New WPC and no off-colour remarks? We'll be sending out for iron tablets.
I've been through his post.
It's odd.
A man dies but the business of his life goes on.
Letter from his parents.
Notice of an AGM for the Oxford Trogs, whatever that might be.
Bills mainly.
Art supplier, wine merchant.
Final demand on both.
- The door was locked, then? - Yes, according to Strange.
- Brigade had to chop their way in.
- So where's the key? This Finn character.
Where did you say he was? Good afternoon.
Come in peace and friendship.
Enter freely with a loving heart, and leave behind some of the happiness you bring.
No, you're all right, miss, thank you.
DI Thursday, DC Morse.
City Police.
Miss? Ayesha.
- We're looking for Gideon Finn.
- I'm Gideon.
Welcome to House Beautiful.
- That's awful.
Poor Simon.
- When did you last see him? It must be six months.
He left us last autumn, after the harvest.
- How was it you knew him? - We met in Life Drawing class.
That was his thing, really.
Art, painting.
That's Simon's.
Oxford was his parents' idea.
But we stayed in touch.
After he threw in his degree, he came out here.
- Why did he leave? A falling out? - No, nothing like that.
He just, um moved on.
I don't think he got what we're about.
- What are you about? - A simpler way.
We have questions about ourselves, and the world, erm, what we're here for, what it means.
And you're the leader of this, er whatever you want to call it.
It's a commune.
We have no leaders, but I found the place, started the work.
- Do you want one? - No.
No, thanks.
- Big place.
Who owns it? - Nobody.
- It must belong to someone.
- All property is theft.
- Is that right, miss? - We're not harming anyone.
We eat what we grow.
We drink what we draw from the well.
- Sounds like hard work.
- It is.
But at least we're not harming each other.
- Simon Hallward wasn't happy with that.
- He wasn't ready.
- For what? - To let go.
To trust.
He was still too attached to the world.
You see them, crowded onto trains, hurtling through life, just another rat in the race.
And for what? First to the grave? That's not what we're about.
Consider the lilies of the field.
"Consider the lilies of the field"? Come that old madam with me, and he'll be considering my boot up his arse.
- You won't be signing up, then? - There's nothing wrong with that one that two weeks in the glasshouse and a scrub down with carbolic wouldn't put right.
Did you see the girl flinch when he put his hands on her? Yes, I saw.
Pot and free love, I suppose.
Free love.
In my experience, that's the most expensive kind there is.
End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! Freedom for Rhodesia! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! - Freedom for Rhodesia! - End the illegal regime! Simon Hallward.
Asphyxia.
He'd drunk, quite heavily.
Which is probably why he didn't wake when the fire broke out.
He was in the pub most nights, according to the neighbours.
The Last of the Red Hot Livers.
Hm.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've a little mystery of my own to solve.
Miss Lorraine Figgis.
Fit young woman, just collapsed in the street on the way back from the shops.
Upstairs are at a loss.
They thought it might have been this stomach bug, but if it was it would be the first fatality.
- So - These hers or yours? Oh, hers.
Came to hospital with her.
Though what they expect me to do with them.
- Aw.
How old is she? - 14 months.
Aw! She's gorgeous.
Come on, you.
Let's get you home.
- All right? - End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! Here comes the train, into the tunnel.
- Glass? In baby food? - Mm, stewed apples to be precise.
- It's a miracle the child wasn't badly injured.
- Or worse.
- Where did the mother come by it? - Richardsons, in the centre.
Mrs Thursday swears by them for value.
One of about two dozen stores, here and in the Midlands.
- Have they been spoken to? - Morse is on his way there now to talk to the manager, a Mr Maddox, see what's what.
We had Mr Richardson, the owner, in the station the other night.
He'd been drinking quite heavily, but there's something else.
A young woman collapsed and died in the street after shopping at Richardsons on Saturday.
Now the hospital had this down as some kind of tummy bug at first.
- Coincidence, surely? - Possibly.
But two incidents where both of the customers have come to harm, it could be something more.
We're taking the baby food off the shelves in case there's glass in any of the others.
But she's sure she got it from here, is she? Much as I like to flatter myself, customers do shop elsewhere.
It was Richardsons' own brand.
I can show you the receipt, if you'd like to see it.
Luckily the little girl was off her food.
Her mother thought she might try some if she saw her eat first.
There must be some sort of malfunction at the bottling plant.
I'll talk to our suppliers.
I'll talk to your suppliers if you give me their number.
Of course.
Unless there was anything else? Actually, there is another matter.
One of your customers collapsed on the street yesterday afternoon.
Possibly this stomach bug.
Sadly, she died in the night.
You're not laying that at our door, I hope.
No.
But when going through her effects, she had a substantial amount of Green Shield Stamps in her bag.
They're proving very popular.
I'm no expert, but she seemed to have many more stamps than her purchases seemed to warrant.
All done, Dad.
Where do you want them? Out back, please.
It's Mr Maddox at work, I told you.
- Freedom for Rhodesia! - End the illegal regime! - What's this? - Rhodesia.
The boycott.
They've got it into their heads we're selling embargoed sugar.
- Are you? - The law is very clear.
We would not and, as far as we're aware, have not bought Rhodesian sugar.
Such goods could be bought via indirect means.
This company was founded on good Christian principles.
Quakers, weren't they, the Richardsons? Well - Good heavens.
What's this? - I believe it's called a sit-in.
I'm suspected of what? We were exercising our lawful right to peaceful protest.
This morning a young mother bought a jar of baby food from Richardsons.
It was laced with broken glass.
She came this close to feeding it to her child.
That is barbaric.
But you cannot imagine it was anything to do with us.
People have done far worse in the name of one thing or another.
- It was a non-violent demonstration.
- Actually, it was trespass.
If you're convicted you could have your visa revoked.
I can't see how that would help you.
If I am sent back to my country, I will most likely be killed.
Morse, a word.
Good news, Mr Mukamba.
Um Richardsons don't want to take the matter any further this time.
What swung it? The sea view? I got most of it in the other day.
Thanks for the help.
Do you fancy a drink? Can't tonight.
Next time though.
- He's quite nice looking.
- Shy, though.
The quiet type.
Bit like George Harrison.
It's the quiet ones you've got to watch.
My old boss was like that.
Wouldn't say boo, but get him in the stockroom and he was all hands.
Seven and nine, please.
Oh, Miss Thursday.
Running late.
I've left the door.
- Need a lift? - No, you're all right.
- Dad says you've moved.
- Yes.
- Nice? - Oh, you know.
Four walls.
- Sorry I can't stop.
- Another time.
- Morning, by the way.
- Morning.
- You lost something? - Thunderbird 2.
Bit of a squeeze, I'd have thought.
- Hello, Morse.
- Hello, Mrs Thursday.
- Hi, Morse.
- Hello, Sam.
- Much on? - I called Hallward's art supplier.
He has a place at Osney.
Thought I'd take a look once I've dropped you at the station.
- Heh-hey! - Richardsons were out of your usual, so it'll have to be bloater paste.
- Oh! Right.
Nice change.
- Come home safe.
- Righto.
This is you handling it, is it? I thought I had handled it.
Don't! Don't! Bloater's off.
- Flypaper? - Infused with arsenic.
Illegal these days.
Must be antique stock he's got hold of somewhere.
Soaking the strips in water for a few hours will extract most of the soluble arsenates.
So that's what he used to doctor the bloater paste? Certainly looks that way.
He was nothing if not methodical.
Ah, says here.
Last entry, Friday week.
"Following disappointing preliminary results, tripled the dose.
Findings to follow.
" So, what was he about? Mass murder? Some sort of grudge? The woman who died of the tummy bug.
She shopped at Richardsons, didn't she? - So you think Richardsons is the target? - Probably.
But if Hallward was the poisoner, then who killed Hallward? - City Police - Do the honours.
Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please? Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
Stop what you're doing and leave your shopping.
If you've paid for your goods, please leave them where they are and obtain a refund.
This store is now closed.
- Here, let me.
- I can manage.
Is everything all right? What's going on? I'm sure your parents will explain.
Is this a joke? Taken together with glass being found in a jar of baby food yesterday, it would suggest that someone's got it in for your business.
Typically in these cases, the motive is extortion.
"Pay so much or we'll ruin your business and your reputation.
" Have you received any threats like that? - When did this start? - About a month ago.
Always at the same branch.
Always left on the shelves, addressed to the manager.
That was the first one.
"Certain of your food products have been contaminated with a purgative injurious to your customers.
Symptoms include vomiting and upset stomach.
" Purgative? "Indicate you are prepared to pay £50,000 by putting a sign in the window offering Richardsons biscuits at half-price and further instructions will be delivered.
" What did you do? Nothing.
We didn't do nothing, Ivor.
We did something.
We ignored it.
You should have come to us at once.
And seen our share price drop through the floor.
Thank you Every business gets letters like these, monthly, if not weekly, mostly written in crayon.
They're by crackpots or idiots trying it on.
If we took every one seriously So you put profit before customers' lives.
You played Russian roulette and now at least one of them is dead.
Tell you, won't miss shifts like this.
How's that? Oh, I've been meaning to say.
I've put my papers in.
You've resigned? Yeah.
You kept that quiet.
This, er this girl I've been seeing is well pregnant.
I see.
- It's the right thing.
- Mm.
Not in that way.
Funny.
It crosses your mind, something like that.
I thought it would be the worst thing that could happen to a bloke, but now it's here, it's about one of the best.
- She's a great girl.
- I'm sure she is.
Congratulations.
June bride.
But not here.
America.
She's been doing a, er what d'you call it, a doctorate, is it? At Lady Matilda's.
But all her family's out there.
Wyoming.
Old man's in the cattle business.
Gonna take me on.
- Right.
- Outdoor work.
Clean air.
Leave all this behind.
A new start.
- When do you? - End of the week.
- That soon? - When your number's up.
We're, er, we're having a few drinks at the Flag.
Just mates.
Gideon? Gid? Gideon? What are you going to do? - Why does everyone ask that? - They don't ask me.
Like I know.
- Did they know? - They had a war.
We've got a war.
Haven't we? It's like I can see their lips moving but I don't speak the language.
I don't understand what they want.
It's the same full-page ad in all the nationals.
A problem with the "manufacturing process".
I've been after Leo Richardson all afternoon.
He's keeping tight-lipped.
- Is he? - What's the real story? I've been looking into the company.
It was founded in 1843.
They even had a refreshment stand at the Great Exhibition.
- Maddox and Richardson? - That's right.
- Why? Oh, nothing.
Only the manager of the Cowley branch is called Maddox.
- Any relation? - I don't know.
I mean I knew it was founded by Quakers, but beyond that Well, that was the problem.
Looking back through the archives, the schism seems to have been brought about by the Great War.
Mr Maddox found out that his partner had been provisioning the army through a holding company, which was at odds with his pacifist credo.
Maddox had a son, a stretcher bearer, killed at Mons.
That seems to have put the tin hat on it.
Literally.
The two men never spoke to each other again.
And there I must leave you.
My dinner companion.
A date, Miss Frazil? Well, I like to keep my hand in.
You should try it sometime.
Seriously.
You're looking uncared for.
Morse? Thank God! Thank God.
What? What is it? The station said you asked for me.
When I came home, the lights were on but I turned them off before I went out.
- When was this? - About half an hour ago.
I think there might be someone upstairs.
Well, you should have called for a patrol.
They'd have been much sooner.
Wait here.
The house is secure.
There's no-one here.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
Verity must have come home and then gone out again.
Right.
Well, there we are.
Mystery solved.
Good night, Mrs Richardson.
Would you wait until my husband gets home? - When will that be? - Not long.
Please.
I just don't really want to be alone, not with everything that's happened.
You can understand that, can't you? - Any news? - No.
Not yet.
What will you drink? Whisky? - Oh, nothing for me, thank you.
- Don't be silly.
Straight or on the rocks? Waiting with you is one thing, a drink is something else.
Is it? Isn't it? - Well, you're not very gallant.
- So I've been told.
- Making a woman drink alone.
- I expect you can manage.
Oh, that was low.
I'm not a fool, Mrs Richardson.
Well, you're certainly acting like one.
Would you come upstairs, please? Why? Because I want to change my dress.
You're big enough to do that by yourself.
But the zip sticks.
I'm sure Mr Richardson will be able to assist you when he arrives.
You're not going to help me, are you? You really are a heel.
- What is it? - There was someone there.
- Where? - Outside, by the pool.
No, no, don't go.
Don't go.
Whoever it is will be gone by now.
And as you're here This zip really is a devil.
I'm sure I'm not the first woman you've seen in her underclothes.
Thank you.
I'll be downstairs.
Do you not like women? Is that it? I'm not asking you to run away with me to the Kasbah.
What would be the harm? I'm afraid it's a little too sophisticated for me.
Well, when when you change your mind you have my number.
Hello again.
Your mother thought that there was an intruder.
It was a false alarm.
Dad told me what's going on.
Who'd want to do this? My parents - They're not bad people.
- They're successful, rich, which makes them a target for some very bad people indeed.
Try not to worry.
- Good night.
- Good night.
An intruder.
I thought so.
Where's Daddy? Out.
I don't know.
- How was your date? - It wasn't a date.
No, of course not.
You wouldn't let a boy touch you where he shouldn't, would you? What do you want? A drink.
Verity? Verity? Verity.
Verity? Leo! - Leo! - Where are you? Leo, come quick! What is it? Let's spread out.
- Victor, you come with me.
- Sir.
Sergeant! - Blood? - Oh, yes.
Same on the bed, and the stairs.
There's not much more I can tell you.
- What about these? - Librium.
Tranquillisers.
Usually prescribed for anxiety.
Dr Amthor.
Doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid.
You know where I am if you need me.
Doctor.
- Who saw her last? - Her mother.
About half-past ten.
- Nobody heard anything? - No.
I saw Mrs Richardson here last night.
She'd been drinking quite heavily.
- What were you doing here? - She called the station.
She thought there'd been an intruder, but there wasn't.
Then she claimed to have seen someone in the garden.
- Claimed? - There was no-one there, so far as I could see.
- Where was the father? - Out.
He says he got in about one, fell asleep on the sofa downstairs.
Found this, sir.
Caught on a branch in the garden.
Now, there was a dentist's surgery in Summertown turned over yesterday.
WPC Trewlove says there was a bottle of chloroform with the takings.
When the call comes, and it will, it's very important you stay calm.
Keep him talking for as long as you can.
The longer you can keep him talking, the better chance we've got of tracing the call.
All right? - It's the supermarket Richardsons? - Yes, sir.
- Kidnap, presumably.
- That's what we're assuming.
No ransom demand as yet.
Entry seems to have been the back door.
Whoever took her knew exactly where to find her.
- What do we know about the girl? - Oh, not a great deal.
Attended Blythe Mount.
Finishing school on the Continent.
Involved with AmnOx.
- The civil rights people.
- That's them, sir.
The Howard League.
Good causes in general.
Verity had been prescribed tranquillisers, Mrs Richardson.
Yes, she she suffers with her nerves.
Whoever took her knew which room was your daughter's.
We'll need a list of her friends and of yours.
But this is whoever is threatening the business.
Mr and Mrs Richardson.
Chief Superintendent Reginald Bright, City Police.
I'm here at the express wish of the Chief Constable to assure you we will do everything possible to see your daughter home again safe and sound.
Leo? Annette? - What's going on? - It's Verity.
Some someone's taken her in the night.
What? My God.
- What are you doing here? - I I just went into the store to see if there was anything I could do and I found this in the bread aisle.
I don't how long it's been there.
I thought it might have something to do with the other business.
"Stay by your phone.
Wait for instruction.
One chance.
No police.
No press.
" Tape running.
Mr Richardson.
- Hello.
- Don't speak, just listen.
If you want to see your daughter alive again, you'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deal's off, the girl's dead.
How do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? - Daddy! No! - Give it to me! Don't hurt her! Please don't hurt her! You're a businessman, think of this as a business transaction.
If you follow my instructions, you'll see her again.
If you don't, she dies.
Talk to the police, she dies.
Speak to the press, she dies.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my gosh.
Sir? This ransom drop.
I'd like to volunteer.
- It was Jakes I had in mind.
- There's no saying how it might go.
- Dangerous, you mean? - Potentially.
Job for a single man, I'd have thought.
One with no dependants at least.
- He told me his news.
- Mm.
- You knew, then? - He mentioned something.
- You didn't say.
- For him to tell you.
- Sudden.
- The way it goes sometimes.
Wouldn't have had you for a sweet tooth.
- What is it? Calm the nerves? - Something like that.
Just follow whatever instructions he gives you.
All right? Don't try anything clever.
- It's a girl's life we're talking about.
- I know.
All right.
It should have been me.
I'm her father.
I should have been the one to go.
- You think that's going to help her? - Christ, you can talk! My men are doing all that can be done.
Try to take what comfort you can from that.
Believe me, I do apprehend something of your anxiety.
Apprehend? My God, how can you? Yes? Phone box.
New College Lane.
Four minutes.
Thursday.
Go ahead.
Over.
Message from Constable Trewlove.
Second rendezvous for DS Morse is a phone box on New College Lane.
Understood.
Out.
Phone box on New College Lane.
Which phone box? There's two.
Hello? Telephone directory.
S to Z.
- Nothing.
- Must be the other box.
He could be anywhere, sir.
Clean away with the money, and us none the wiser as to the girl.
- It was a good plan.
- Nothing's foolproof.
He's got us beat.
So far.
- How's the head? - Oh, nothing broken, thank you.
He's got what he wanted.
Let's see if he keeps his side of the bargain.
- I wouldn't hold your breath.
- We need a dog team.
I know you said not to try anything, but erm those sweets? Aniseed balls.
I put one in each corner of the holdall.
Thought it might give us a fighting chance.
Jakes.
Good boy.
- He's transferred the money.
- The dogs are no use now.
So, which way? We'll go this way.
- Down there.
- Sir.
- Lads, up there.
- Yes, sir.
- Do you think we'll find her? - We'll find her.
Alive? Be nice to go out on a win.
This time next month you'll be riding the range, or whatever it is you do with beeves.
Yeah.
- Second thoughts? - Maybe.
But no regrets.
Life's too short.
There's something just up here.
- Hell's this? - It's chalk works.
Flint works too.
Used when the Botley Road was re-laid before the war.
Simon Hallward was a member of the Oxford Trogs.
Spelunkers.
Cavers.
- There was some kit at his lock-up.
- But Hallward's dead.
Yeah, but what if he's not? What if he started the fire and it was someone else's body that we found at his flat? Dental records.
The only way that we can identify him.
What are the odds it's not just chloroform been taken from that dentist's surgery? Look at the place.
Nobody's been near nor by here since God knows when.
It's a new padlock.
Watch out.
Mind how you go.
- Verity! - Sshh! You'll bring the roof down.
Verity! Watch yourself.
Watch yourself.
Verity.
- Verity! - Here! Help! Here! Here! Help! Here! Here! Verity? It's all right.
It's the police.
Stay calm.
We're gonna get you out.
Look.
Won't be long now, Verity.
Nothing to be afraid of.
- Look.
- Oh, Christ.
Gotta get that bar we used on the way in.
We need something for leverage.
I'll do what I can in the meantime with elbow grease.
- You go, I'll stay.
- It's not a debate.
That thing goes off, it could bring the whole bloody place down.
- You've got something to lose.
- Till the end of the week I'm your senior.
So, get.
Go on! Help.
Please.
Won't be long now, Verity.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
Help me, please! Hurry, please! Help! Come on, up you get.
Up you get.
Let's get you out of here.
Get her out.
Get her out! Get her out! Get her out! Careful.
Careful.
Come on, get her out.
I'm right behind you.
This way.
Just up here.
Through there.
Peter? Peter? What was that about second thoughts? - How is she, nurse? - As well as can be expected.
Tired.
She'd had nothing to eat or drink since she was taken, but she's otherwise unharmed.
I suppose we should be grateful it was nothing more.
- There was nothing more? - She says not.
Does she remember anything? The last thing I remember is going to bed.
I think I maybe half woke up, but only for a second.
I had the briefest sensation of something over my nose and mouth.
It smelled like I had a tooth out when I was about 14.
It was the same smell.
Next thing, I woke up.
I thought for a moment that I'd gone blind.
But then I realised I had some sort of blindfold on.
And you never saw his face at any time? Never heard his voice? No.
I thought I was going to die.
- All right, miss.
We'll let you get some rest.
- Thank you.
Pru, dear.
That was Leo.
They've found her.
Thank God.
- And the kidnapper? - No.
No word.
I don't suppose Leo's worried about the money.
- The main thing is they got her back.
- Yes.
- That's the main thing.
Well, I've got to go in.
The re-stock's almost done and Leo wants to open up.
Business as usual? How can you stand it? Well, someone has to.
Is there any news? It's just we're very fond of her.
- Yes.
- Miss Flett? You bastard! Arrest him! He knew there was something in the food and he kept quiet about it! - All right! You're going to have to hold the fort on the kidnap.
I'm going back to the station to brief Mr Bright before he reports to Division.
Talk to Suzy Flett, one of the women on the tills.
Turns out Miss Figgis, the poisoning victim, was her cousin.
Right? So tell me about these Green Shield Stamps.
You were giving Miss Figgis far more than she was entitled to.
Isn't that correct? Weekly? It was just a bit of pin money.
We'd just redeem 'em to get the odd gift from the shop.
And what would you do with the gifts? Sell them on? No-one's ever gonna get rich on the wages they pay here.
Compared to what they've been doing, letting people get poisoned Let us worry about that.
I'd keep Miss Flett away from the tills if I were you.
Yes.
Well, we don't want her upsetting customers.
I think that's the least of your problems.
It must be hard seeing the company name dragged through the dirt.
Maddox and Richardson.
Bit before my time, of course.
Nonetheless, dissolving any partnership is difficult, especially when one seems to have involved such acrimony.
Are you sure there's no residual ill feeling between you and Leo Richardson? I wouldn't be working for him if there were.
Look, I've seen what resentment can do, Constable.
First hand.
My father, my grandfather both.
Bitterness.
Regret.
It ate them from the inside out.
Both dead by 40.
No.
Middle-management, middle of the batting order, middle of the road.
There's a lot to be said for it.
It's your fault.
My fault.
How exactly is it my fault? The business.
Someone you've done down or - She could have died.
- Christ, you think I don't know that? She's the one good thing we ever did.
It's a judgment, Leo.
God sees all.
It's a bit late to start bringing him into it.
You think this is how whoever it is did for Hallward? If it was Hallward's body at all.
Yes, what is this new theory of yours, Morse? Hallward's alive? Well, Hallward seemed to have a hand in all of it so far, sir.
The poisoning, the broken glass and Verity Richardson's kidnap.
The kidnapper had a Norfolk accent and Hallward's family were from Norfolk.
- Rather elaborate.
- Not if we were meant to take it at face value, sir.
Ingenious, really.
A sort of homemade time bomb.
With the door locked, Hallward didn't stand a cat in hell's chance.
- If it works.
- It'll work.
Any second now.
- Is that it? - A watched pot.
Bad luck.
Sorry, sir.
A message from Dr DeBryn.
Hallward's dental records have been located and match those of the cadaver recovered from the fire.
If it wasn't Hallward, who was it on the phone? And whom do we have here? WPC 734 Trewlove, sir.
One of the replacement intakes, sir.
Started last week.
- Your first posting, is it? - Yes, sir.
Excellent.
Well, we run a taut ship here at Cowley, though I like to think a happy one also.
All work and - Wouldn't you say so, Thursday? - Sir? - The ship.
A happy one.
- Oh, as the day is long, sir.
My door is always well, if not actually open then not infrequently ajar.
- Thank you, sir.
Well, er carry on.
It was a nice idea.
Hallward was behind the poisoning, the evidence in his studio puts it beyond any doubt.
- He can't kidnap Verity Richardson if he's dead.
- He can't, no.
But what if he had confided in someone or had a partner maybe? And they thought that all the ransom sounded better than half.
But who? Someone who was close to the family, someone who knew the layout of the house.
The night she was taken, you'd been on a date together.
No, it wasn't a date.
We just went for a drink in town, catch-up.
Look, I've known her since we were kids.
We're like cousins.
Brother and sister almost.
How did she seem? Nothing worrying her that she talked about? No.
- How were things at home? - Good, so far as I know.
I've been away at college in America and she's very wrapped up in her AmnOx work.
You're better off talking to my mum.
She saw far more of Verity than me these past few years.
- How's that? - They both go to the Friends House in town.
Mrs Maddox? Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
You should have waited outside.
Well, the sign says "All are welcome".
All are welcome.
To worship.
It's not my first time in a meeting house, Mrs Maddox.
I know what is and isn't welcome.
I was raised in Quakerism.
So far as my father would allow.
I wanted to ask you a few questions about the Richardsons.
A happy family, would you say? No more or less than any other.
Leo makes money, Annette spends it.
It seems enough.
What about Verity? I'm very fond of Verity.
She used to come to meetings a lot when she was younger.
Since this last year, I think she's been once or twice.
I suppose she has less time now with her work for AmnOx.
She ever mention anything at home? Or boyfriend trouble? She'd had a bad experience, I think.
End of last year, about a month or two after she got back.
A man.
I mean, I assumed it was a man.
It usually is at that age.
Your son seems fond of her.
Verity.
It's not a trick question, Mrs Maddox.
It's about Leo, isn't it? It's someone he's rubbed up the wrong way, or a disgruntled member of staff.
Maybe someone who knows he's got a bit of money.
Wouldn't you think? - When did you last come to a meeting? - Oh, not since I was a boy.
I was never much of a believer then.
Even less now.
I could have baulked at it.
Refused point blank to go.
Kicked up a fuss.
Why didn't you? Because I didn't want to disappoint her.
She'd had enough of that.
So we'd go, the two of us, and sit in silence.
Sometimes the spirit would move her and she'd speak.
"Minister", we call it.
But mostly it was silence.
"Still your mind," she'd say.
That was the point.
"Still your mind.
" Never got the knack.
Good morning.
AmnOx.
How can I help you? - Volunteering? - No.
Then might I trouble you for a donation? All in a good cause.
I know, I'm a donor.
Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
- Guilty conscience? - How's that? A policeman donating to AmnOx? Your lot are usually more at home arresting lawful protestors.
You should be safe today.
My rubber truncheon's at the menders.
What can I do for you? I'd like to ask you a few questions about Verity Richardson, Miss? Brooke.
Marion Brooke.
Just Marion, if you like.
What sort of questions? General.
I understand she's quite involved with all this.
She volunteers here, yes.
Look, I was just about to take my lunch.
It'll be easier for us to talk off the premises.
She'd been abroad for AmnOx last year? To Rhodesia, as part of a fact-finding mission and to help support the families of political prisoners, those unjustly accused of insurgency - sabotage, blowing up railway lines.
She'd been under a private doctor, I understand, for her nerves.
Oh, really? Well, I don't know about that.
I mean, she was quite poorly when she got back from Africa.
Some nasty she'd picked up out there.
She was off work for a while and I know that left her quite low.
Did she ever mention a Simon Hallward? The only Simon I ever heard her mention was that chap who painted her picture.
A portrait her family wanted done.
He seems an unlikely portraitist.
His work seems to have been avant-garde in the main.
Abstracts and so forth.
- Where did you find him? - Through Verity, I think.
- But you met him? - Mm.
He was very handsome.
Had a great sense of fun.
Yes, his chief source of amusement of late was running an extortion campaign against your husband's business.
Were you sleeping with him? You do that again and we can add assault to the list of charges your family is going to face.
What time did you get to the Maddox's party? Fashionably late? Time enough to stop for a gin and bitter lemon with Simon Hallward at the Turf? How many people in Oxford like gin and bitter lemon? Thousands probably.
But of the people I've met on this case, only one.
Get out of my house.
Don't speak, just listen.
If you want to see your daughter alive again, you'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deals off, the girl is dead.
H-how do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? Daddy! No! Give it to me! Don't hurt her! Please don't hurt her! You're a businessman.
Think of this as a business transaction.
You're a businessman.
Think of this as a You're a businessman.
Think of this as a business transaction.
If you follow my instructions you'll He'll be down in a minute.
Mum says Peter's going abroad.
Getting married.
Yeah.
It looks that way.
Oh, well, there's a turn-up.
- What's she like, his fiancee? - I don't know.
I haven't met her.
I only found out myself this week.
Out of all the people, who'd have thought? Love, I suppose.
- Don't know until you meet the right one.
- No.
Don't suppose - Ready for the off then, Morse? - Yes, sir.
Miss Thursday.
The voice on the tape was exactly that.
A recording of Hallward.
The kidnapper assumed it would be Mr Richardson on the phone.
But at one point, Mrs Richardson picks up the receiver and says - No! - Give it to me.
- So? - The kidnapper then says You're a businessman - Odd, don't you think? - He thinks he's talking to Mrs Richardson.
- So why would he say, "businessman"? - Could be a slip of the tongue.
It could, but when he gives instructions for the drop you can hear a clock chime the three-quarter.
You'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deal's off, the girl is dead.
How do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? Daddy! No! - It stops.
- Yes.
When Mister Richardson starts speaking.
You're a businessman, think of this as a business transaction.
And starts again when the kidnapper starts talking.
I think I know which clock it is.
Listen.
It's the third, the sixth and tenth note.
The G is marginally flat.
Can you hear it? Not really.
Trust me.
It's the same clock.
- Money? That's not what we're about.
- Well, it's what somebody's about.
We need to talk to everyone who lives here.
- They're in the field.
- Bring them in.
All right.
Hi.
Hello.
How you feeling? I've been better.
Erm Mum and Dad send their best.
- I was so scared.
- Of course you were.
It's OK, you're safe now.
They'll catch him.
Don't worry.
Anything from the commune? Couple of them have been done for possession of marijuana.
This Ayesha girl's real name is Thelma Anne Davis.
- I'm having her previous wired through.
- And Gideon Finn? Before he set up in the "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" business, he gave art lessons to the sons and daughters of the well-to-do.
- Does he have a record? Not as such, sir.
But his name does come up as a victim of assault.
Father of one of Finn's pupils, a 15-year-old girl, got it into his head that there was a bit more on the curriculum than perspective and the colour wheel.
- Did Finn bring charges against the father? - No.
So there must've been something in it.
Wouldn't you think? - Here.
- Oh.
- Thanks.
- How is she? All right, I think.
Quite a few visitors this afternoon.
I've got a list.
Mike Maddox came by and a pal of hers from AmnOx.
Marion Brooke.
By the way, your Teasmade.
- You were right.
- I was? The only reason you didn't have any success in the yard is because it's outside.
The vapours dispersed.
In Hallward's flat it would have built up, filled the room.
As the liquid boiled away, the exposed element would have become white hot and, well - Boom.
- Quite.
Well done.
Hello.
Does Cuthbert Mukamba volunteer here? He does, when he can.
But today's not one of his days, I'm afraid.
What did you want to speak to him about? Did you take a "get well soon" card from him to Verity Richardson? There's no law against that, is there? No.
- Who's Dziva? - Why do you ask? You mean Dzivaguru.
Chthonic goddess.
The Great Creatrix of the Shona people.
Stands for life, fertility.
But woe betide anyone that crosses her.
- How's that? - She has bit of a temper.
Goddess of the Night, too.
Of course, to we Catholics, that's just superstition.
So why would Cuthbert Mukamba address Verity Richardson as Dziva? Miss Richardson came to my country last year with a delegation from AmnOx.
My brother is a political prisoner in Salisbury.
AmnOx supported his family with money and organising legal representation.
You were friends, then.
We were.
I wonder then why, of all the "get well soon" cards she received, yours was the only one that she tore up and put in the wastepaper basket.
I also wonder why you addressed her as Dziva, Goddess.
In this country, that's a term of endearment usually reserved for more than friends.
- What is there to say? - The truth.
- So you put pressure on her? - Well, what were we meant to do? - Support her? - It's easy for you to say.
What if it was your daughter? We were thinking of her future.
Her good name.
Her reputation.
The only good name you were thinking of was Richardsons.
- We did the right thing.
- For who? She was 19.
We are still her parents.
What chance would she have of a decent husband with a Marxist bastard hanging around? - It was his politics you disapproved of? - We did nothing wrong.
I'm not concerned with ethics, morals.
The law's my business and procuring an abortion is illegal.
Not if the patient's mental state is at risk.
I suppose that's where Dr Amthor comes in.
For the right money, he signs an affidavit to the effect that she's likely to do herself harm, and no-one can touch you.
Health farm, was it? This isn't the end of it, I promise you.
I really was thinking of Verity.
I could have been something more.
But you meet someone.
The wedding dress becomes the christening gown, and before you know where you are it's 20 years.
You wonder if those bright summer mornings ever happened at all.
I didn't want that for my daughter.
But it wasn't your choice to make.
Ben? - Ben? - Oh! - Ben! Ben! - Are you all right? Where's my baby? Where's my baby? Ben! Smells good.
So do you.
Not now, Gid.
I'm not in the mood.
You never are any more.
Whose fault's that? Christ.
What have you done? - Ahh! - What have you done? Could we have the screen across, Nurse Hicks? Of course.
Good afternoon, Inspector.
Not more questions? - I'm not sure there's much more I can tell you.
- I think there is.
- I've spoken to Cuthbert Mukamba.
- You know why we're asking.
We've also spoken to your parents.
It'll go better for you if you tell the truth now.
I don't understand what you're talking about.
You spent some time last year in Rhodesia working for AmnOx.
While you were there, you got involved with Cuthbert.
When you came back to England you were carrying his child.
Your parents weren't too pleased about it, so they made arrangements.
Miss Richardson, would you like to come with me, please? The food-tampering, extortion, all the rest of it, was your way of getting back at them, of hurting them as badly as they'd hurt you.
- You've no idea.
We know you couldn't do it by yourself.
The voice on the phone making the ransom demand.
If we played that to Simon Hallward's parents, they'd identify him.
But there was a third.
Hallward was dead by the time you faked your kidnapping.
So, who helped you? Who's Tad, Verity? - An American boy I met in Rhodesia.
- Really? Sure it's not Thelma Anne Davis? Verity, you don't have to say anything My daughter is in no fit state to be questioned.
If you wish to do so, do so formally If you want to hurt them, now's the time.
- What do you want to know? - Darling - No! You don't call me that! - Please.
Think of your father.
When did he ever think of me? When did either of you think of me? "Richardsons - for all the family.
" I'll answer your questions.
But not with these people here.
You stupid, stupid girl! Please, Gideon! Please let me keep him.
It's not a puppy! It's a child! Someone else's child! - God help me - You're mean! - You don't love me.
- Love you? You're a maniac.
You take it back today! Or I will! - So who was her accomplice? - Thelma Anne Davis, sir.
Her previous just came through.
She was sent to an approved school aged 11 for arson.
She burned down a sports hall.
These days she calls herself Ayesha.
One of Gideon Finn's disciples up at House Beautiful.
I think that's how she got to know Hallward.
I think maybe the original idea was to hurt the Richardsons through extortion, but once Leo Richardson refused to pay, they struck on the notion of faking a kidnap.
- Then why did they kill Hallward? - Because he went too far.
With Leo Richardson dragging his heels about paying up, Hallward got impatient and upped the stakes.
From his notebooks, it's clear Hallward increased the arsenic dose in the bloater paste.
Sadly for Miss Figgis, with fatal consequences.
The glass in the baby food was a step too far.
I don't think Verity and Ayesha had intended anyone to come to serious harm, certainly not women or children.
He had crossed the line and had to go.
He'd already recorded the ransom demand, so they had no further use for him.
We stood no chance of identifying the voice on the tape because Hallward was already dead.
So how did Verity even meet this Ayesha girl? They were at the same abortion clinic at the same time.
It would have meant prison for Gideon Finn.
He was the father, according to Verity.
I don't doubt they said Ayesha was 16.
She was 15 when she fell pregnant by him.
What about the chalk mine? Verity Richardson would have been killed in that explosion.
She was never in any danger, sir.
It was all for show.
The explosion was detonated from a safe distance by her accomplice once she'd seen that Verity was clear.
Hello, Tadpole.
Ssh.
Who's upset you? I'm afraid the jig's up.
They'll be coming.
We give thanks to the earth, mother of all, for her fine, fair bounty.
We give thanks for the barley and the sweet vegetables raised by the sweat of our labour from this good earth.
We give thanks for our fellowship, and the company of honest hearts.
And today, we give a special thanks to Sister Ayesha for the meal she has so thoughtfully prepared and set before us so lovingly My God, don't you ever get sick of the sound of your voice? Ready? Don't let me go alone.
No, I can't, Tadpole.
I can't.
I thought I was brave enough but I'm not.
I need you! Sister? You think this is heaven? This is hell.
Thelma Anne Davis, Verity Richardson, I What is it? What's she taken? About 50 Librium.
The arsenic was meant for me.
Fetch an ambulance.
Thelma.
There was nothing they could do.
This was meant to be a refuge.
A place of kindness.
- It was a dream.
My dream.
- The less out of you, the better.
Your dream? You exploited a vulnerable young girl.
- If I had my way, you'd answer for it.
- Sir! Sir! She was ill-used! We were going to found an orphanage in Africa.
Use the money for something good.
So One-eye'd Jakes will no longer be a lone ranger.
He's reached his High Noon and found his Darling Clementine.
So the way I look at it, we're not so much losing a Detective Sergeant as gaining a cowboy.
- The happy couple.
- Happy couple.
I believe Mr Bright has something to say to you, too.
In light of your late exploits at the chalk tunnels, I have made a recommendation for the Queen's Police Medal.
I am assured that the request will be looked upon favourably.
So, very well done, very well deserved.
Congratulations.
- Very, very well done.
- Thank you, sir.
Morse! Are you not coming in? - Work.
- Right.
Well I suppose Your other half.
I'm sorry, I don't know her name.
Hope.
- Make a go of it.
- I mean to.
Step to, matey.
Your pint's getting cold.
Nocturne - Any sign of Gideon Finn or his disciples? - Not a soul.
- Cleared out.
- It looks that way.
What'll they do, do you think? Back to the nine-to-five? "The world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest and Providence their guide.
They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow through Eden took their solitary way.
" - You'll miss him.
- He kept me on my toes.
No.
I'm glad.
Any man finds a measure of happiness, it's got to be a good thing.
The start he had, if anyone deserved it
- Thanks.
I'm forever telling Pru she should make a bit of an effort and it'll take years off you.
Let me get you a drink.
Annette, gin and bitter lemon? What will you do with yourself now you're back from Harvard? He's gonna work at the supermarket for his old man.
Learn the ropes.
Er, just for the summer.
- Come to Richardsons supermarket - Dad? Who's had the Savoy Truffle? - Is there anything in it? - Who knows? Well, deal with it, Ivor.
Christ, what do I pay you for? Remind me.
You're a manager, aren't you? Manage! I don't take kindly to being hustled about a police station like a criminal! Who do you think you are? Calm down, sir, I'm just trying to do my job.
Will this take much longer? It's ridiculous.
I felt ill and my husband agreed to run me home.
Well, perhaps if you didn't drink so much you wouldn't feel quite so ill.
You're very rude.
No, Mrs Richardson, I am very busy.
- Are you going to charge them? - Apparently not.
But you might want to remind your father, when he's sobered up, that another month and the new Road Safety Act comes into law.
- It won't matter who he plays golf with then.
- I'm sorry if you were put to any trouble.
- Well, it's not your fault.
- It will be.
- You took your time.
- I was out.
Who were you saving this evening? Yellow ones or little brown ones? Little red ones, actually.
All right, all right.
Not tonight, for Christ's sake.
- Come on.
- Constable Nixon will see you out.
Aghh! Brigade had to axe their way through.
Morning, matey.
- Who's the, er? - Simon Hallward.
Early 20s.
What is he, some sort of artist or something? According to Mrs Cravat, his landlady.
Lived here about 18 months.
It's turps.
- Next of kin? - I've got Shirley talking to the neighbours.
Woman Police Constable Trewlove.
She's new.
Overcome by smoke most likely.
The fire's done the rest.
- Any idea as to cause? - Cigarette, left burning.
Room full of solvents.
Runners and riders, once I've completed the post-mortem.
Sheer hooliganism.
Throwing members of the public off the towpath? The boys' colleges have been spoken to.
They'll be gated for the rest of the term, but the victim didn't want to press charges.
- They bought him off, I suppose.
- Offered to pay for his dry-cleaning.
- Anything else? - Morse is looking into a fatal fire in Jericho.
Oh, and DC Parrish rang in sick this morning.
Tummy bug.
- How many does that make? - Three, sir, in CID.
And five on 'B' Relief.
Much more of it, we'll have to bus in reserves.
- You're all right, are you? - As ninepence, sir.
Touch wood.
Trewlove? I'm Detective Morse.
- Anything germane? - Not much.
The deceased moved in a year ago last February.
Nobody saw much of him.
Out at his studio in the day, in the Turf most nights.
- Friends? Girlfriend? - One or two models but no names, I'm afraid.
Last person to see him from here was a Miss Treadwell.
Ground floor flat.
She saw him heading out about seven last night.
There's some talk that he might have been at Beaufort.
And he was behind with the rent.
- What? - Your idea of "not much".
- Have I missed something? - No, no.
It is commendably thorough.
I don't suppose anyone knew if he was a night owl or an early riser? I can ask.
Why? Is it important? Wondered what he had to get up for so early.
The clock was stopped dead on five.
Not a few minutes to nor a few minutes past, but bang on the hour.
- Too neat, you mean? - What's this? Morse has some reservations about this death by fire.
What's new? No, go on.
Who was he? Simon Hallward.
Read Philosophy at Beaufort, only he dropped out last summer.
Joined a commune up by Boar's Hill run by a man called Gideon Finn.
- Calls himself Brother Gideon.
- Morse.
Sergeant Strange said I might find you here.
Trewlove.
This is Detective Inspector Thursday and DS Jakes.
- Constable.
- Wotcher.
I went by the Turf to ask after your man Hallward.
He was in there last night shortly after seven, on his usual Radfords, when he added a gin and bitter lemon to his order.
- So he had a woman with him.
- That was my thought.
No description though.
He was sat around the corner from the bar.
I just thought you'd want to know.
- Excellent use of initiative, Constable.
- Thank you, sir.
Morse.
Sergeant.
You sickening for something? New WPC and no off-colour remarks? We'll be sending out for iron tablets.
I've been through his post.
It's odd.
A man dies but the business of his life goes on.
Letter from his parents.
Notice of an AGM for the Oxford Trogs, whatever that might be.
Bills mainly.
Art supplier, wine merchant.
Final demand on both.
- The door was locked, then? - Yes, according to Strange.
- Brigade had to chop their way in.
- So where's the key? This Finn character.
Where did you say he was? Good afternoon.
Come in peace and friendship.
Enter freely with a loving heart, and leave behind some of the happiness you bring.
No, you're all right, miss, thank you.
DI Thursday, DC Morse.
City Police.
Miss? Ayesha.
- We're looking for Gideon Finn.
- I'm Gideon.
Welcome to House Beautiful.
- That's awful.
Poor Simon.
- When did you last see him? It must be six months.
He left us last autumn, after the harvest.
- How was it you knew him? - We met in Life Drawing class.
That was his thing, really.
Art, painting.
That's Simon's.
Oxford was his parents' idea.
But we stayed in touch.
After he threw in his degree, he came out here.
- Why did he leave? A falling out? - No, nothing like that.
He just, um moved on.
I don't think he got what we're about.
- What are you about? - A simpler way.
We have questions about ourselves, and the world, erm, what we're here for, what it means.
And you're the leader of this, er whatever you want to call it.
It's a commune.
We have no leaders, but I found the place, started the work.
- Do you want one? - No.
No, thanks.
- Big place.
Who owns it? - Nobody.
- It must belong to someone.
- All property is theft.
- Is that right, miss? - We're not harming anyone.
We eat what we grow.
We drink what we draw from the well.
- Sounds like hard work.
- It is.
But at least we're not harming each other.
- Simon Hallward wasn't happy with that.
- He wasn't ready.
- For what? - To let go.
To trust.
He was still too attached to the world.
You see them, crowded onto trains, hurtling through life, just another rat in the race.
And for what? First to the grave? That's not what we're about.
Consider the lilies of the field.
"Consider the lilies of the field"? Come that old madam with me, and he'll be considering my boot up his arse.
- You won't be signing up, then? - There's nothing wrong with that one that two weeks in the glasshouse and a scrub down with carbolic wouldn't put right.
Did you see the girl flinch when he put his hands on her? Yes, I saw.
Pot and free love, I suppose.
Free love.
In my experience, that's the most expensive kind there is.
End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! Freedom for Rhodesia! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! - Freedom for Rhodesia! - End the illegal regime! Simon Hallward.
Asphyxia.
He'd drunk, quite heavily.
Which is probably why he didn't wake when the fire broke out.
He was in the pub most nights, according to the neighbours.
The Last of the Red Hot Livers.
Hm.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've a little mystery of my own to solve.
Miss Lorraine Figgis.
Fit young woman, just collapsed in the street on the way back from the shops.
Upstairs are at a loss.
They thought it might have been this stomach bug, but if it was it would be the first fatality.
- So - These hers or yours? Oh, hers.
Came to hospital with her.
Though what they expect me to do with them.
- Aw.
How old is she? - 14 months.
Aw! She's gorgeous.
Come on, you.
Let's get you home.
- All right? - End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! End the illegal regime! Here comes the train, into the tunnel.
- Glass? In baby food? - Mm, stewed apples to be precise.
- It's a miracle the child wasn't badly injured.
- Or worse.
- Where did the mother come by it? - Richardsons, in the centre.
Mrs Thursday swears by them for value.
One of about two dozen stores, here and in the Midlands.
- Have they been spoken to? - Morse is on his way there now to talk to the manager, a Mr Maddox, see what's what.
We had Mr Richardson, the owner, in the station the other night.
He'd been drinking quite heavily, but there's something else.
A young woman collapsed and died in the street after shopping at Richardsons on Saturday.
Now the hospital had this down as some kind of tummy bug at first.
- Coincidence, surely? - Possibly.
But two incidents where both of the customers have come to harm, it could be something more.
We're taking the baby food off the shelves in case there's glass in any of the others.
But she's sure she got it from here, is she? Much as I like to flatter myself, customers do shop elsewhere.
It was Richardsons' own brand.
I can show you the receipt, if you'd like to see it.
Luckily the little girl was off her food.
Her mother thought she might try some if she saw her eat first.
There must be some sort of malfunction at the bottling plant.
I'll talk to our suppliers.
I'll talk to your suppliers if you give me their number.
Of course.
Unless there was anything else? Actually, there is another matter.
One of your customers collapsed on the street yesterday afternoon.
Possibly this stomach bug.
Sadly, she died in the night.
You're not laying that at our door, I hope.
No.
But when going through her effects, she had a substantial amount of Green Shield Stamps in her bag.
They're proving very popular.
I'm no expert, but she seemed to have many more stamps than her purchases seemed to warrant.
All done, Dad.
Where do you want them? Out back, please.
It's Mr Maddox at work, I told you.
- Freedom for Rhodesia! - End the illegal regime! - What's this? - Rhodesia.
The boycott.
They've got it into their heads we're selling embargoed sugar.
- Are you? - The law is very clear.
We would not and, as far as we're aware, have not bought Rhodesian sugar.
Such goods could be bought via indirect means.
This company was founded on good Christian principles.
Quakers, weren't they, the Richardsons? Well - Good heavens.
What's this? - I believe it's called a sit-in.
I'm suspected of what? We were exercising our lawful right to peaceful protest.
This morning a young mother bought a jar of baby food from Richardsons.
It was laced with broken glass.
She came this close to feeding it to her child.
That is barbaric.
But you cannot imagine it was anything to do with us.
People have done far worse in the name of one thing or another.
- It was a non-violent demonstration.
- Actually, it was trespass.
If you're convicted you could have your visa revoked.
I can't see how that would help you.
If I am sent back to my country, I will most likely be killed.
Morse, a word.
Good news, Mr Mukamba.
Um Richardsons don't want to take the matter any further this time.
What swung it? The sea view? I got most of it in the other day.
Thanks for the help.
Do you fancy a drink? Can't tonight.
Next time though.
- He's quite nice looking.
- Shy, though.
The quiet type.
Bit like George Harrison.
It's the quiet ones you've got to watch.
My old boss was like that.
Wouldn't say boo, but get him in the stockroom and he was all hands.
Seven and nine, please.
Oh, Miss Thursday.
Running late.
I've left the door.
- Need a lift? - No, you're all right.
- Dad says you've moved.
- Yes.
- Nice? - Oh, you know.
Four walls.
- Sorry I can't stop.
- Another time.
- Morning, by the way.
- Morning.
- You lost something? - Thunderbird 2.
Bit of a squeeze, I'd have thought.
- Hello, Morse.
- Hello, Mrs Thursday.
- Hi, Morse.
- Hello, Sam.
- Much on? - I called Hallward's art supplier.
He has a place at Osney.
Thought I'd take a look once I've dropped you at the station.
- Heh-hey! - Richardsons were out of your usual, so it'll have to be bloater paste.
- Oh! Right.
Nice change.
- Come home safe.
- Righto.
This is you handling it, is it? I thought I had handled it.
Don't! Don't! Bloater's off.
- Flypaper? - Infused with arsenic.
Illegal these days.
Must be antique stock he's got hold of somewhere.
Soaking the strips in water for a few hours will extract most of the soluble arsenates.
So that's what he used to doctor the bloater paste? Certainly looks that way.
He was nothing if not methodical.
Ah, says here.
Last entry, Friday week.
"Following disappointing preliminary results, tripled the dose.
Findings to follow.
" So, what was he about? Mass murder? Some sort of grudge? The woman who died of the tummy bug.
She shopped at Richardsons, didn't she? - So you think Richardsons is the target? - Probably.
But if Hallward was the poisoner, then who killed Hallward? - City Police - Do the honours.
Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention, please? Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
Stop what you're doing and leave your shopping.
If you've paid for your goods, please leave them where they are and obtain a refund.
This store is now closed.
- Here, let me.
- I can manage.
Is everything all right? What's going on? I'm sure your parents will explain.
Is this a joke? Taken together with glass being found in a jar of baby food yesterday, it would suggest that someone's got it in for your business.
Typically in these cases, the motive is extortion.
"Pay so much or we'll ruin your business and your reputation.
" Have you received any threats like that? - When did this start? - About a month ago.
Always at the same branch.
Always left on the shelves, addressed to the manager.
That was the first one.
"Certain of your food products have been contaminated with a purgative injurious to your customers.
Symptoms include vomiting and upset stomach.
" Purgative? "Indicate you are prepared to pay £50,000 by putting a sign in the window offering Richardsons biscuits at half-price and further instructions will be delivered.
" What did you do? Nothing.
We didn't do nothing, Ivor.
We did something.
We ignored it.
You should have come to us at once.
And seen our share price drop through the floor.
Thank you Every business gets letters like these, monthly, if not weekly, mostly written in crayon.
They're by crackpots or idiots trying it on.
If we took every one seriously So you put profit before customers' lives.
You played Russian roulette and now at least one of them is dead.
Tell you, won't miss shifts like this.
How's that? Oh, I've been meaning to say.
I've put my papers in.
You've resigned? Yeah.
You kept that quiet.
This, er this girl I've been seeing is well pregnant.
I see.
- It's the right thing.
- Mm.
Not in that way.
Funny.
It crosses your mind, something like that.
I thought it would be the worst thing that could happen to a bloke, but now it's here, it's about one of the best.
- She's a great girl.
- I'm sure she is.
Congratulations.
June bride.
But not here.
America.
She's been doing a, er what d'you call it, a doctorate, is it? At Lady Matilda's.
But all her family's out there.
Wyoming.
Old man's in the cattle business.
Gonna take me on.
- Right.
- Outdoor work.
Clean air.
Leave all this behind.
A new start.
- When do you? - End of the week.
- That soon? - When your number's up.
We're, er, we're having a few drinks at the Flag.
Just mates.
Gideon? Gid? Gideon? What are you going to do? - Why does everyone ask that? - They don't ask me.
Like I know.
- Did they know? - They had a war.
We've got a war.
Haven't we? It's like I can see their lips moving but I don't speak the language.
I don't understand what they want.
It's the same full-page ad in all the nationals.
A problem with the "manufacturing process".
I've been after Leo Richardson all afternoon.
He's keeping tight-lipped.
- Is he? - What's the real story? I've been looking into the company.
It was founded in 1843.
They even had a refreshment stand at the Great Exhibition.
- Maddox and Richardson? - That's right.
- Why? Oh, nothing.
Only the manager of the Cowley branch is called Maddox.
- Any relation? - I don't know.
I mean I knew it was founded by Quakers, but beyond that Well, that was the problem.
Looking back through the archives, the schism seems to have been brought about by the Great War.
Mr Maddox found out that his partner had been provisioning the army through a holding company, which was at odds with his pacifist credo.
Maddox had a son, a stretcher bearer, killed at Mons.
That seems to have put the tin hat on it.
Literally.
The two men never spoke to each other again.
And there I must leave you.
My dinner companion.
A date, Miss Frazil? Well, I like to keep my hand in.
You should try it sometime.
Seriously.
You're looking uncared for.
Morse? Thank God! Thank God.
What? What is it? The station said you asked for me.
When I came home, the lights were on but I turned them off before I went out.
- When was this? - About half an hour ago.
I think there might be someone upstairs.
Well, you should have called for a patrol.
They'd have been much sooner.
Wait here.
The house is secure.
There's no-one here.
- Are you sure? - Yes.
Verity must have come home and then gone out again.
Right.
Well, there we are.
Mystery solved.
Good night, Mrs Richardson.
Would you wait until my husband gets home? - When will that be? - Not long.
Please.
I just don't really want to be alone, not with everything that's happened.
You can understand that, can't you? - Any news? - No.
Not yet.
What will you drink? Whisky? - Oh, nothing for me, thank you.
- Don't be silly.
Straight or on the rocks? Waiting with you is one thing, a drink is something else.
Is it? Isn't it? - Well, you're not very gallant.
- So I've been told.
- Making a woman drink alone.
- I expect you can manage.
Oh, that was low.
I'm not a fool, Mrs Richardson.
Well, you're certainly acting like one.
Would you come upstairs, please? Why? Because I want to change my dress.
You're big enough to do that by yourself.
But the zip sticks.
I'm sure Mr Richardson will be able to assist you when he arrives.
You're not going to help me, are you? You really are a heel.
- What is it? - There was someone there.
- Where? - Outside, by the pool.
No, no, don't go.
Don't go.
Whoever it is will be gone by now.
And as you're here This zip really is a devil.
I'm sure I'm not the first woman you've seen in her underclothes.
Thank you.
I'll be downstairs.
Do you not like women? Is that it? I'm not asking you to run away with me to the Kasbah.
What would be the harm? I'm afraid it's a little too sophisticated for me.
Well, when when you change your mind you have my number.
Hello again.
Your mother thought that there was an intruder.
It was a false alarm.
Dad told me what's going on.
Who'd want to do this? My parents - They're not bad people.
- They're successful, rich, which makes them a target for some very bad people indeed.
Try not to worry.
- Good night.
- Good night.
An intruder.
I thought so.
Where's Daddy? Out.
I don't know.
- How was your date? - It wasn't a date.
No, of course not.
You wouldn't let a boy touch you where he shouldn't, would you? What do you want? A drink.
Verity? Verity? Verity.
Verity? Leo! - Leo! - Where are you? Leo, come quick! What is it? Let's spread out.
- Victor, you come with me.
- Sir.
Sergeant! - Blood? - Oh, yes.
Same on the bed, and the stairs.
There's not much more I can tell you.
- What about these? - Librium.
Tranquillisers.
Usually prescribed for anxiety.
Dr Amthor.
Doesn't ring a bell, I'm afraid.
You know where I am if you need me.
Doctor.
- Who saw her last? - Her mother.
About half-past ten.
- Nobody heard anything? - No.
I saw Mrs Richardson here last night.
She'd been drinking quite heavily.
- What were you doing here? - She called the station.
She thought there'd been an intruder, but there wasn't.
Then she claimed to have seen someone in the garden.
- Claimed? - There was no-one there, so far as I could see.
- Where was the father? - Out.
He says he got in about one, fell asleep on the sofa downstairs.
Found this, sir.
Caught on a branch in the garden.
Now, there was a dentist's surgery in Summertown turned over yesterday.
WPC Trewlove says there was a bottle of chloroform with the takings.
When the call comes, and it will, it's very important you stay calm.
Keep him talking for as long as you can.
The longer you can keep him talking, the better chance we've got of tracing the call.
All right? - It's the supermarket Richardsons? - Yes, sir.
- Kidnap, presumably.
- That's what we're assuming.
No ransom demand as yet.
Entry seems to have been the back door.
Whoever took her knew exactly where to find her.
- What do we know about the girl? - Oh, not a great deal.
Attended Blythe Mount.
Finishing school on the Continent.
Involved with AmnOx.
- The civil rights people.
- That's them, sir.
The Howard League.
Good causes in general.
Verity had been prescribed tranquillisers, Mrs Richardson.
Yes, she she suffers with her nerves.
Whoever took her knew which room was your daughter's.
We'll need a list of her friends and of yours.
But this is whoever is threatening the business.
Mr and Mrs Richardson.
Chief Superintendent Reginald Bright, City Police.
I'm here at the express wish of the Chief Constable to assure you we will do everything possible to see your daughter home again safe and sound.
Leo? Annette? - What's going on? - It's Verity.
Some someone's taken her in the night.
What? My God.
- What are you doing here? - I I just went into the store to see if there was anything I could do and I found this in the bread aisle.
I don't how long it's been there.
I thought it might have something to do with the other business.
"Stay by your phone.
Wait for instruction.
One chance.
No police.
No press.
" Tape running.
Mr Richardson.
- Hello.
- Don't speak, just listen.
If you want to see your daughter alive again, you'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deal's off, the girl's dead.
How do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? - Daddy! No! - Give it to me! Don't hurt her! Please don't hurt her! You're a businessman, think of this as a business transaction.
If you follow my instructions, you'll see her again.
If you don't, she dies.
Talk to the police, she dies.
Speak to the press, she dies.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my gosh.
Sir? This ransom drop.
I'd like to volunteer.
- It was Jakes I had in mind.
- There's no saying how it might go.
- Dangerous, you mean? - Potentially.
Job for a single man, I'd have thought.
One with no dependants at least.
- He told me his news.
- Mm.
- You knew, then? - He mentioned something.
- You didn't say.
- For him to tell you.
- Sudden.
- The way it goes sometimes.
Wouldn't have had you for a sweet tooth.
- What is it? Calm the nerves? - Something like that.
Just follow whatever instructions he gives you.
All right? Don't try anything clever.
- It's a girl's life we're talking about.
- I know.
All right.
It should have been me.
I'm her father.
I should have been the one to go.
- You think that's going to help her? - Christ, you can talk! My men are doing all that can be done.
Try to take what comfort you can from that.
Believe me, I do apprehend something of your anxiety.
Apprehend? My God, how can you? Yes? Phone box.
New College Lane.
Four minutes.
Thursday.
Go ahead.
Over.
Message from Constable Trewlove.
Second rendezvous for DS Morse is a phone box on New College Lane.
Understood.
Out.
Phone box on New College Lane.
Which phone box? There's two.
Hello? Telephone directory.
S to Z.
- Nothing.
- Must be the other box.
He could be anywhere, sir.
Clean away with the money, and us none the wiser as to the girl.
- It was a good plan.
- Nothing's foolproof.
He's got us beat.
So far.
- How's the head? - Oh, nothing broken, thank you.
He's got what he wanted.
Let's see if he keeps his side of the bargain.
- I wouldn't hold your breath.
- We need a dog team.
I know you said not to try anything, but erm those sweets? Aniseed balls.
I put one in each corner of the holdall.
Thought it might give us a fighting chance.
Jakes.
Good boy.
- He's transferred the money.
- The dogs are no use now.
So, which way? We'll go this way.
- Down there.
- Sir.
- Lads, up there.
- Yes, sir.
- Do you think we'll find her? - We'll find her.
Alive? Be nice to go out on a win.
This time next month you'll be riding the range, or whatever it is you do with beeves.
Yeah.
- Second thoughts? - Maybe.
But no regrets.
Life's too short.
There's something just up here.
- Hell's this? - It's chalk works.
Flint works too.
Used when the Botley Road was re-laid before the war.
Simon Hallward was a member of the Oxford Trogs.
Spelunkers.
Cavers.
- There was some kit at his lock-up.
- But Hallward's dead.
Yeah, but what if he's not? What if he started the fire and it was someone else's body that we found at his flat? Dental records.
The only way that we can identify him.
What are the odds it's not just chloroform been taken from that dentist's surgery? Look at the place.
Nobody's been near nor by here since God knows when.
It's a new padlock.
Watch out.
Mind how you go.
- Verity! - Sshh! You'll bring the roof down.
Verity! Watch yourself.
Watch yourself.
Verity.
- Verity! - Here! Help! Here! Here! Help! Here! Here! Verity? It's all right.
It's the police.
Stay calm.
We're gonna get you out.
Look.
Won't be long now, Verity.
Nothing to be afraid of.
- Look.
- Oh, Christ.
Gotta get that bar we used on the way in.
We need something for leverage.
I'll do what I can in the meantime with elbow grease.
- You go, I'll stay.
- It's not a debate.
That thing goes off, it could bring the whole bloody place down.
- You've got something to lose.
- Till the end of the week I'm your senior.
So, get.
Go on! Help.
Please.
Won't be long now, Verity.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
Help me, please! Hurry, please! Help! Come on, up you get.
Up you get.
Let's get you out of here.
Get her out.
Get her out! Get her out! Get her out! Careful.
Careful.
Come on, get her out.
I'm right behind you.
This way.
Just up here.
Through there.
Peter? Peter? What was that about second thoughts? - How is she, nurse? - As well as can be expected.
Tired.
She'd had nothing to eat or drink since she was taken, but she's otherwise unharmed.
I suppose we should be grateful it was nothing more.
- There was nothing more? - She says not.
Does she remember anything? The last thing I remember is going to bed.
I think I maybe half woke up, but only for a second.
I had the briefest sensation of something over my nose and mouth.
It smelled like I had a tooth out when I was about 14.
It was the same smell.
Next thing, I woke up.
I thought for a moment that I'd gone blind.
But then I realised I had some sort of blindfold on.
And you never saw his face at any time? Never heard his voice? No.
I thought I was going to die.
- All right, miss.
We'll let you get some rest.
- Thank you.
Pru, dear.
That was Leo.
They've found her.
Thank God.
- And the kidnapper? - No.
No word.
I don't suppose Leo's worried about the money.
- The main thing is they got her back.
- Yes.
- That's the main thing.
Well, I've got to go in.
The re-stock's almost done and Leo wants to open up.
Business as usual? How can you stand it? Well, someone has to.
Is there any news? It's just we're very fond of her.
- Yes.
- Miss Flett? You bastard! Arrest him! He knew there was something in the food and he kept quiet about it! - All right! You're going to have to hold the fort on the kidnap.
I'm going back to the station to brief Mr Bright before he reports to Division.
Talk to Suzy Flett, one of the women on the tills.
Turns out Miss Figgis, the poisoning victim, was her cousin.
Right? So tell me about these Green Shield Stamps.
You were giving Miss Figgis far more than she was entitled to.
Isn't that correct? Weekly? It was just a bit of pin money.
We'd just redeem 'em to get the odd gift from the shop.
And what would you do with the gifts? Sell them on? No-one's ever gonna get rich on the wages they pay here.
Compared to what they've been doing, letting people get poisoned Let us worry about that.
I'd keep Miss Flett away from the tills if I were you.
Yes.
Well, we don't want her upsetting customers.
I think that's the least of your problems.
It must be hard seeing the company name dragged through the dirt.
Maddox and Richardson.
Bit before my time, of course.
Nonetheless, dissolving any partnership is difficult, especially when one seems to have involved such acrimony.
Are you sure there's no residual ill feeling between you and Leo Richardson? I wouldn't be working for him if there were.
Look, I've seen what resentment can do, Constable.
First hand.
My father, my grandfather both.
Bitterness.
Regret.
It ate them from the inside out.
Both dead by 40.
No.
Middle-management, middle of the batting order, middle of the road.
There's a lot to be said for it.
It's your fault.
My fault.
How exactly is it my fault? The business.
Someone you've done down or - She could have died.
- Christ, you think I don't know that? She's the one good thing we ever did.
It's a judgment, Leo.
God sees all.
It's a bit late to start bringing him into it.
You think this is how whoever it is did for Hallward? If it was Hallward's body at all.
Yes, what is this new theory of yours, Morse? Hallward's alive? Well, Hallward seemed to have a hand in all of it so far, sir.
The poisoning, the broken glass and Verity Richardson's kidnap.
The kidnapper had a Norfolk accent and Hallward's family were from Norfolk.
- Rather elaborate.
- Not if we were meant to take it at face value, sir.
Ingenious, really.
A sort of homemade time bomb.
With the door locked, Hallward didn't stand a cat in hell's chance.
- If it works.
- It'll work.
Any second now.
- Is that it? - A watched pot.
Bad luck.
Sorry, sir.
A message from Dr DeBryn.
Hallward's dental records have been located and match those of the cadaver recovered from the fire.
If it wasn't Hallward, who was it on the phone? And whom do we have here? WPC 734 Trewlove, sir.
One of the replacement intakes, sir.
Started last week.
- Your first posting, is it? - Yes, sir.
Excellent.
Well, we run a taut ship here at Cowley, though I like to think a happy one also.
All work and - Wouldn't you say so, Thursday? - Sir? - The ship.
A happy one.
- Oh, as the day is long, sir.
My door is always well, if not actually open then not infrequently ajar.
- Thank you, sir.
Well, er carry on.
It was a nice idea.
Hallward was behind the poisoning, the evidence in his studio puts it beyond any doubt.
- He can't kidnap Verity Richardson if he's dead.
- He can't, no.
But what if he had confided in someone or had a partner maybe? And they thought that all the ransom sounded better than half.
But who? Someone who was close to the family, someone who knew the layout of the house.
The night she was taken, you'd been on a date together.
No, it wasn't a date.
We just went for a drink in town, catch-up.
Look, I've known her since we were kids.
We're like cousins.
Brother and sister almost.
How did she seem? Nothing worrying her that she talked about? No.
- How were things at home? - Good, so far as I know.
I've been away at college in America and she's very wrapped up in her AmnOx work.
You're better off talking to my mum.
She saw far more of Verity than me these past few years.
- How's that? - They both go to the Friends House in town.
Mrs Maddox? Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
You should have waited outside.
Well, the sign says "All are welcome".
All are welcome.
To worship.
It's not my first time in a meeting house, Mrs Maddox.
I know what is and isn't welcome.
I was raised in Quakerism.
So far as my father would allow.
I wanted to ask you a few questions about the Richardsons.
A happy family, would you say? No more or less than any other.
Leo makes money, Annette spends it.
It seems enough.
What about Verity? I'm very fond of Verity.
She used to come to meetings a lot when she was younger.
Since this last year, I think she's been once or twice.
I suppose she has less time now with her work for AmnOx.
She ever mention anything at home? Or boyfriend trouble? She'd had a bad experience, I think.
End of last year, about a month or two after she got back.
A man.
I mean, I assumed it was a man.
It usually is at that age.
Your son seems fond of her.
Verity.
It's not a trick question, Mrs Maddox.
It's about Leo, isn't it? It's someone he's rubbed up the wrong way, or a disgruntled member of staff.
Maybe someone who knows he's got a bit of money.
Wouldn't you think? - When did you last come to a meeting? - Oh, not since I was a boy.
I was never much of a believer then.
Even less now.
I could have baulked at it.
Refused point blank to go.
Kicked up a fuss.
Why didn't you? Because I didn't want to disappoint her.
She'd had enough of that.
So we'd go, the two of us, and sit in silence.
Sometimes the spirit would move her and she'd speak.
"Minister", we call it.
But mostly it was silence.
"Still your mind," she'd say.
That was the point.
"Still your mind.
" Never got the knack.
Good morning.
AmnOx.
How can I help you? - Volunteering? - No.
Then might I trouble you for a donation? All in a good cause.
I know, I'm a donor.
Detective Constable Morse, City Police.
- Guilty conscience? - How's that? A policeman donating to AmnOx? Your lot are usually more at home arresting lawful protestors.
You should be safe today.
My rubber truncheon's at the menders.
What can I do for you? I'd like to ask you a few questions about Verity Richardson, Miss? Brooke.
Marion Brooke.
Just Marion, if you like.
What sort of questions? General.
I understand she's quite involved with all this.
She volunteers here, yes.
Look, I was just about to take my lunch.
It'll be easier for us to talk off the premises.
She'd been abroad for AmnOx last year? To Rhodesia, as part of a fact-finding mission and to help support the families of political prisoners, those unjustly accused of insurgency - sabotage, blowing up railway lines.
She'd been under a private doctor, I understand, for her nerves.
Oh, really? Well, I don't know about that.
I mean, she was quite poorly when she got back from Africa.
Some nasty she'd picked up out there.
She was off work for a while and I know that left her quite low.
Did she ever mention a Simon Hallward? The only Simon I ever heard her mention was that chap who painted her picture.
A portrait her family wanted done.
He seems an unlikely portraitist.
His work seems to have been avant-garde in the main.
Abstracts and so forth.
- Where did you find him? - Through Verity, I think.
- But you met him? - Mm.
He was very handsome.
Had a great sense of fun.
Yes, his chief source of amusement of late was running an extortion campaign against your husband's business.
Were you sleeping with him? You do that again and we can add assault to the list of charges your family is going to face.
What time did you get to the Maddox's party? Fashionably late? Time enough to stop for a gin and bitter lemon with Simon Hallward at the Turf? How many people in Oxford like gin and bitter lemon? Thousands probably.
But of the people I've met on this case, only one.
Get out of my house.
Don't speak, just listen.
If you want to see your daughter alive again, you'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deals off, the girl is dead.
H-how do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? Daddy! No! Give it to me! Don't hurt her! Please don't hurt her! You're a businessman.
Think of this as a business transaction.
You're a businessman.
Think of this as a You're a businessman.
Think of this as a business transaction.
If you follow my instructions you'll He'll be down in a minute.
Mum says Peter's going abroad.
Getting married.
Yeah.
It looks that way.
Oh, well, there's a turn-up.
- What's she like, his fiancee? - I don't know.
I haven't met her.
I only found out myself this week.
Out of all the people, who'd have thought? Love, I suppose.
- Don't know until you meet the right one.
- No.
Don't suppose - Ready for the off then, Morse? - Yes, sir.
Miss Thursday.
The voice on the tape was exactly that.
A recording of Hallward.
The kidnapper assumed it would be Mr Richardson on the phone.
But at one point, Mrs Richardson picks up the receiver and says - No! - Give it to me.
- So? - The kidnapper then says You're a businessman - Odd, don't you think? - He thinks he's talking to Mrs Richardson.
- So why would he say, "businessman"? - Could be a slip of the tongue.
It could, but when he gives instructions for the drop you can hear a clock chime the three-quarter.
You'll put £100,000 in used, unmarked notes of small denomination into a dark holdall.
Come to the phone box on Merton Street at 4am.
Come alone and on foot.
If I see the police, the deal's off, the girl is dead.
How do I know you'll do as you say? How do I know she's even alive? Daddy! No! - It stops.
- Yes.
When Mister Richardson starts speaking.
You're a businessman, think of this as a business transaction.
And starts again when the kidnapper starts talking.
I think I know which clock it is.
Listen.
It's the third, the sixth and tenth note.
The G is marginally flat.
Can you hear it? Not really.
Trust me.
It's the same clock.
- Money? That's not what we're about.
- Well, it's what somebody's about.
We need to talk to everyone who lives here.
- They're in the field.
- Bring them in.
All right.
Hi.
Hello.
How you feeling? I've been better.
Erm Mum and Dad send their best.
- I was so scared.
- Of course you were.
It's OK, you're safe now.
They'll catch him.
Don't worry.
Anything from the commune? Couple of them have been done for possession of marijuana.
This Ayesha girl's real name is Thelma Anne Davis.
- I'm having her previous wired through.
- And Gideon Finn? Before he set up in the "Jesus wants me for a sunbeam" business, he gave art lessons to the sons and daughters of the well-to-do.
- Does he have a record? Not as such, sir.
But his name does come up as a victim of assault.
Father of one of Finn's pupils, a 15-year-old girl, got it into his head that there was a bit more on the curriculum than perspective and the colour wheel.
- Did Finn bring charges against the father? - No.
So there must've been something in it.
Wouldn't you think? - Here.
- Oh.
- Thanks.
- How is she? All right, I think.
Quite a few visitors this afternoon.
I've got a list.
Mike Maddox came by and a pal of hers from AmnOx.
Marion Brooke.
By the way, your Teasmade.
- You were right.
- I was? The only reason you didn't have any success in the yard is because it's outside.
The vapours dispersed.
In Hallward's flat it would have built up, filled the room.
As the liquid boiled away, the exposed element would have become white hot and, well - Boom.
- Quite.
Well done.
Hello.
Does Cuthbert Mukamba volunteer here? He does, when he can.
But today's not one of his days, I'm afraid.
What did you want to speak to him about? Did you take a "get well soon" card from him to Verity Richardson? There's no law against that, is there? No.
- Who's Dziva? - Why do you ask? You mean Dzivaguru.
Chthonic goddess.
The Great Creatrix of the Shona people.
Stands for life, fertility.
But woe betide anyone that crosses her.
- How's that? - She has bit of a temper.
Goddess of the Night, too.
Of course, to we Catholics, that's just superstition.
So why would Cuthbert Mukamba address Verity Richardson as Dziva? Miss Richardson came to my country last year with a delegation from AmnOx.
My brother is a political prisoner in Salisbury.
AmnOx supported his family with money and organising legal representation.
You were friends, then.
We were.
I wonder then why, of all the "get well soon" cards she received, yours was the only one that she tore up and put in the wastepaper basket.
I also wonder why you addressed her as Dziva, Goddess.
In this country, that's a term of endearment usually reserved for more than friends.
- What is there to say? - The truth.
- So you put pressure on her? - Well, what were we meant to do? - Support her? - It's easy for you to say.
What if it was your daughter? We were thinking of her future.
Her good name.
Her reputation.
The only good name you were thinking of was Richardsons.
- We did the right thing.
- For who? She was 19.
We are still her parents.
What chance would she have of a decent husband with a Marxist bastard hanging around? - It was his politics you disapproved of? - We did nothing wrong.
I'm not concerned with ethics, morals.
The law's my business and procuring an abortion is illegal.
Not if the patient's mental state is at risk.
I suppose that's where Dr Amthor comes in.
For the right money, he signs an affidavit to the effect that she's likely to do herself harm, and no-one can touch you.
Health farm, was it? This isn't the end of it, I promise you.
I really was thinking of Verity.
I could have been something more.
But you meet someone.
The wedding dress becomes the christening gown, and before you know where you are it's 20 years.
You wonder if those bright summer mornings ever happened at all.
I didn't want that for my daughter.
But it wasn't your choice to make.
Ben? - Ben? - Oh! - Ben! Ben! - Are you all right? Where's my baby? Where's my baby? Ben! Smells good.
So do you.
Not now, Gid.
I'm not in the mood.
You never are any more.
Whose fault's that? Christ.
What have you done? - Ahh! - What have you done? Could we have the screen across, Nurse Hicks? Of course.
Good afternoon, Inspector.
Not more questions? - I'm not sure there's much more I can tell you.
- I think there is.
- I've spoken to Cuthbert Mukamba.
- You know why we're asking.
We've also spoken to your parents.
It'll go better for you if you tell the truth now.
I don't understand what you're talking about.
You spent some time last year in Rhodesia working for AmnOx.
While you were there, you got involved with Cuthbert.
When you came back to England you were carrying his child.
Your parents weren't too pleased about it, so they made arrangements.
Miss Richardson, would you like to come with me, please? The food-tampering, extortion, all the rest of it, was your way of getting back at them, of hurting them as badly as they'd hurt you.
- You've no idea.
We know you couldn't do it by yourself.
The voice on the phone making the ransom demand.
If we played that to Simon Hallward's parents, they'd identify him.
But there was a third.
Hallward was dead by the time you faked your kidnapping.
So, who helped you? Who's Tad, Verity? - An American boy I met in Rhodesia.
- Really? Sure it's not Thelma Anne Davis? Verity, you don't have to say anything My daughter is in no fit state to be questioned.
If you wish to do so, do so formally If you want to hurt them, now's the time.
- What do you want to know? - Darling - No! You don't call me that! - Please.
Think of your father.
When did he ever think of me? When did either of you think of me? "Richardsons - for all the family.
" I'll answer your questions.
But not with these people here.
You stupid, stupid girl! Please, Gideon! Please let me keep him.
It's not a puppy! It's a child! Someone else's child! - God help me - You're mean! - You don't love me.
- Love you? You're a maniac.
You take it back today! Or I will! - So who was her accomplice? - Thelma Anne Davis, sir.
Her previous just came through.
She was sent to an approved school aged 11 for arson.
She burned down a sports hall.
These days she calls herself Ayesha.
One of Gideon Finn's disciples up at House Beautiful.
I think that's how she got to know Hallward.
I think maybe the original idea was to hurt the Richardsons through extortion, but once Leo Richardson refused to pay, they struck on the notion of faking a kidnap.
- Then why did they kill Hallward? - Because he went too far.
With Leo Richardson dragging his heels about paying up, Hallward got impatient and upped the stakes.
From his notebooks, it's clear Hallward increased the arsenic dose in the bloater paste.
Sadly for Miss Figgis, with fatal consequences.
The glass in the baby food was a step too far.
I don't think Verity and Ayesha had intended anyone to come to serious harm, certainly not women or children.
He had crossed the line and had to go.
He'd already recorded the ransom demand, so they had no further use for him.
We stood no chance of identifying the voice on the tape because Hallward was already dead.
So how did Verity even meet this Ayesha girl? They were at the same abortion clinic at the same time.
It would have meant prison for Gideon Finn.
He was the father, according to Verity.
I don't doubt they said Ayesha was 16.
She was 15 when she fell pregnant by him.
What about the chalk mine? Verity Richardson would have been killed in that explosion.
She was never in any danger, sir.
It was all for show.
The explosion was detonated from a safe distance by her accomplice once she'd seen that Verity was clear.
Hello, Tadpole.
Ssh.
Who's upset you? I'm afraid the jig's up.
They'll be coming.
We give thanks to the earth, mother of all, for her fine, fair bounty.
We give thanks for the barley and the sweet vegetables raised by the sweat of our labour from this good earth.
We give thanks for our fellowship, and the company of honest hearts.
And today, we give a special thanks to Sister Ayesha for the meal she has so thoughtfully prepared and set before us so lovingly My God, don't you ever get sick of the sound of your voice? Ready? Don't let me go alone.
No, I can't, Tadpole.
I can't.
I thought I was brave enough but I'm not.
I need you! Sister? You think this is heaven? This is hell.
Thelma Anne Davis, Verity Richardson, I What is it? What's she taken? About 50 Librium.
The arsenic was meant for me.
Fetch an ambulance.
Thelma.
There was nothing they could do.
This was meant to be a refuge.
A place of kindness.
- It was a dream.
My dream.
- The less out of you, the better.
Your dream? You exploited a vulnerable young girl.
- If I had my way, you'd answer for it.
- Sir! Sir! She was ill-used! We were going to found an orphanage in Africa.
Use the money for something good.
So One-eye'd Jakes will no longer be a lone ranger.
He's reached his High Noon and found his Darling Clementine.
So the way I look at it, we're not so much losing a Detective Sergeant as gaining a cowboy.
- The happy couple.
- Happy couple.
I believe Mr Bright has something to say to you, too.
In light of your late exploits at the chalk tunnels, I have made a recommendation for the Queen's Police Medal.
I am assured that the request will be looked upon favourably.
So, very well done, very well deserved.
Congratulations.
- Very, very well done.
- Thank you, sir.
Morse! Are you not coming in? - Work.
- Right.
Well I suppose Your other half.
I'm sorry, I don't know her name.
Hope.
- Make a go of it.
- I mean to.
Step to, matey.
Your pint's getting cold.
Nocturne - Any sign of Gideon Finn or his disciples? - Not a soul.
- Cleared out.
- It looks that way.
What'll they do, do you think? Back to the nine-to-five? "The world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest and Providence their guide.
They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow through Eden took their solitary way.
" - You'll miss him.
- He kept me on my toes.
No.
I'm glad.
Any man finds a measure of happiness, it's got to be a good thing.
The start he had, if anyone deserved it