Endeavour - Ninth Season

'Remember not the sins and offences of my youth

'but according to thy mercy

'think thou upon me, O Lord, for thy goodness.'

Hello, Violet's Delights, flowers for every occasion.

How may I help you?

'For as much as it hath pleased Almighty God

'of His great mercy to take unto Himself

'the soul of our dear brother here departed,

'we therefore commit his body to be consumed by fire.'

"Then out spake brave Horatius

"The Captain of the gate

"To every man upon this Earth

"Death cometh soon or late

"And how can man die better

"Than facing fearful odds

"For the ashes of his fathers

"And the temples of his gods."

We believe the two bodies we've found so far

to be those of Josiah Landesman and his former secretary, Brenda Lewis.

And no Peter Williams? No, not yet.

It's like half of me has always been here.

Half of me never left.

But, look, we're so close.

We'll find him, I promise you. You have my word.

What those boys suffered...

Did you know? About Jakes?

That he was a lad at Blenheim Vale? No, Sir.

Not when we were working together.

Nor, obviously, when what happened... happened.

Morse never said? No, Sir.

It was private. A confidence Jakes had given him.

And he's kept it all this time?

Soul of discretion is Morse, Sir.

You've a secret wants keeping, he'll take it to the grave.

You all right? Well, brush my teeth and call me Pearly!

Aye, aye! Morse says congratulations are in order.

Ta very much.

All right, I will, yeah.

Engagement announcement's just come out in the Mail.

It's a bit late,

but a decent best man might've told me it's the done thing.

Traditionally, it's the bride's parents that take out the notices.

I've done it in their name. You only do it once, don't you?

All right, cheers. I'll see you there.

Old mate of mine from Cable Street, DI Finch,

might have something on Mickey Flood.

Do you want me to run you?

He's spooked enough as it is. I'm to go alone.

Well, it's probably for the best, I've a sudden out in North Oxford.

Nothing suspicious, but uniform want me out there

just to be on the safe side.

It's good you took Jakes to Blenheim Vale.

He always thought a lot of you. It's not quite how I remember it.

That's as may be, but it's your doorstep he turned up on.

Any sign yet of Peter Williams' remains?

No, no, not yet. But the dig's ongoing.

Maybe he's just not there.

Or maybe we just haven't found him there yet.

Anything further on who owns the place now?

It's companies within companies.

Closest I've got is a firm called Centavo Holdings

registered out in Bermuda.

One owner of, erm... Lionel Godfrey Chambers.

Can see why someone would hold onto the place..

Private land, your own personal graveyard.

Yeah, if you had somewhere

that you could bury all your secrets and mistakes you would,

wouldn't you?

Someone always finds 'em in the end.

Nothing stays buried forever.

The late Professor Edwin Robert Bevin.

Early 60s, academic.

Lived alone, and died within the last six hours.

Cause?

I fancy a broken neck. But he's also taken quite a blow to the skull.

Possibly from hitting the newel post on the way down.

The runner's ruched up and torn.

And the other slipper appears to have landed there.

Who called it in?

An old friend from college was expecting him for lunch, apparently.

Dr Fortescue.

When Bevin didn't arrive, he telephoned the local station

who sent a uniform round.

'Paranoid' by Black Sabbath

Tomahawk been in? Not yet.

Look, I wouldn't.

He doesn't bother me.

All right to have him removed now?

"Maniac."

Standard procedure, I assure you.

It's a clue that Bevin missed or didn't get to.

Puzzle in this morning's Times. Set by Codex, too.

"Mother takes murderer back. Idiot."

Six letters.

Maniac.

Cut off in the middle of finishing a crossword.

I should take that very hard.

Well, whichever way you look at it,

sooner or later, we all end up six down and two across.

What do you think made him leave his breakfast?

Someone at the door, perhaps? Well, post's on the table.

A telephone call?

Took him upstairs? You're the detective, Morse.

I'm just a simple country pathologist.

Shall we say two o'clock?

What's with all the cloak and dagger, Ches?

Maybe it's escaped your notice,

the last person who came to Oxford to see you

ended up crucified on the floor with his tongue torn out.

Mickey Flood was a lifelong villain who fell foul.

You're a senior serving officer.

Do you think that'll make the blindest to these people?

Which people?

Whatever you've got going on at Blenheim Vale, let it drop!

Who did for Landesman, Ches?

Same as Brenda Lewis and her boy?

Is that what Mickey Flood was coming here to offer me?

Do the right thing. Take my advice.

Professor Bevin's death notice came in on Saturday

from a Dr McMurdo.

It's via letter, address in Appleford.

And once the death notice has been placed, what's the process?

Well, we're legally obliged to confirm the details

with the undertaker,

in this case a Jephthah Claypole and Son,

then it goes forward to print. What details?

Name and age of the deceased,

date of decease, and any funeral arrangements.

I thought I saw you come in. Miss Ventnor taking care of you?

Perfectly. Can I use your telephone? Help yourself.

So, what's called for? Congratulation or condolence?

I've just come from a sudden death in North Oxford.

Could be something or nothing.

If it's the former, I'll keep you posted.

But in the meantime, please, off the record.

No answer.

Well, thank you.

Miss Frazil. Any time.

HE KNOCKS You wanted to see me?

Kidlington need a man on secondment

through to the end of the year and possibly beyond.

I thought it might suit.

Right. Comes with married quarters.

I'd need to talk it over with Joan. Course you will.

I haven't let you down, have I, Sir, or...?

No.

Me moving on, I just want to see you all right, that's all.

Kidlington's a coming place.

You'll have more scope for advancement there

than you will here.

I appreciate it.

Ta.

I'll give Joanie a ring.

Good afternoon. May I help you?

I'm Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

You pick your moments.

You're here about the accident, presumably?

I'm here to speak to a Dr Rupert McMurdo.

I'm Dr Andrea Massey, a colleague of Rupert's.

Today was his funeral.

Erm...

my condolences.

When did he...? Twelve days ago.

He fell from a train outside Radley on his way to work.

It seems another passenger hadn't closed the door properly.

He must've leant against it, and...

Is there a Mrs McMurdo?

No. No, he was unattached for as long as I knew him.

What was it you wanted to see him about?

Well, I need to see if he knew a Professor Edwin Bevin?

It isn't a name I ever heard him mention.

What was he like?

Rather wonderful in his way.

Modest, thoughtful.

You were fond of him.

I shall miss him, dreadfully and always.

Well, I'll let you get back to, erm... Thank you.

Erm...

We should tell people if they mean something to us, don't you think?

Before it's too late.

"Professor Edwin Robert Bevin,

"formerly of Lonsdale college, Oxford, died suddenly at home,

"June the 16th. Omnia mors aequat."

"Death makes all things equal."

Somebody places a death notice in the Oxford Mail, so?

Before Bevin dies.

What?

Who put the notice in?

A Dr McMurdo, who had himself fallen from a train

12 days previous, was killed outright.

Anything to go on? Not much.

The letter to the Mail has an Oxford postmark.

I've a Dr Fortescue to see at Lonsdale tomorrow.

He's a friend of Bevin's.

And Claypole and Sons. The undertaker's.

The Mail confirmed Bevin's death with them on Saturday.

But I can't see how when he was still alive.

Right, then. Continue enquiries. Thank you, Sir.

Did your...

did your Cable Street man have anything on Mickey Flood?