Endeavour

The good ended happily and the bad, unhappily.

That's what fiction means.

When the overture begins,

you don't know what the opera might be.

Or where the story might take you.

Whether it'll be comedy...

or tragedy.

This...

is a story about love.

Castle Gate CID. Strange.

Oi! What are you doing?

What do you think you're doing, eh, touching her like that?

Get out. Come on.

Come on. Get out.

You'll like this one, you'll like one, have a listen.

So, I've got this dog and I love my dog,

but I had to take it to the vets the other day, vet took one look at it,

picked him up, checked his eyes, checked his ears, checked his teeth.

Then he went, "I'm really sorry, I've gotta put the dog down."

I burst into tears, why you gotta put him down?

He said, "He's really heavy."

So, there's this, er, Irish man...

Three more chicken in a basket.

Two scampi in a basket.

You all right, Jen?

Yeah.

Yeah, sorry, Tony.

I'm fine. It was just a turn.

I'll be all right.

This is more like it.

Thank you.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

We said... no questions.

Got a name for her?

I wouldn't like to swear to it,

but I think it could be Molly Andrews.

Barmaid down The Grapes.

Taking a short-cut home, maybe?

Body was found by David Clemens.

Works at the Morris plant.

Keep-fit fanatic.

- Doctor. - Gentlemen.

Have to wait on the post-mortem to confirm it, but...

cause of death would appear to be a broken neck.

- That what the mark's about? - Yes. Possibly.

I'll know more after the PM.

Any...?

If that was the motive, he hasn't gone through with it.

He may have been disturbed, of course.

Shall we say 2 o'clock?

Oh, and, er...

Happy New Year.

Her handbag was found over there.

No purse in it.

Robbery, you think?

Some drunk, maybe?

Be enough of 'em about last night.

Tried it on.

Or'd had too much of a skinful to do what he meant to.

Uniform up and down the towpath.

See if anyone moored up, saw anything.

So, how was your New Year's Eve?

Resolutions?

Find out who did this. You?

Oh, I'm long past mending my ways.

New Year, new decade...

new start.

You always hope for better, don't you?

Bitter mornings,

up in the dark and the cold,

and the worst of human nature at the end of it.

You start to wonder how many more of these you've got in you.

No Morse today?

Fortnight's leave.

Oh, yeah. Anywhere nice?

What time is it?

1970.

Felice anno nuovo.

The body of a young woman

discovered on a stretch of canal towpath

in the early hours of New Year's Day,

has been identified as 24-year-old Molly Andrews.

Miss Andrews is believed to have been attacked

shortly after finishing her shift at The Grapes pub in Oxford

where she worked as a barmaid.

The investigation into her murder is continuing.

I told you, I was at a party.

I left The Grapes, but wasn't gonna get home before midnight, was I?

The landlord says you were arguing with her earlier in the night.

Then you started chucking your weight around. Said he had to throw you out.

Somebody said she'd been seeing another fella.

Some college type.

Where's this come from?

I just heard it somewhere, is all.

All right.

Let's just have it one more time.

From the beginning.

'Fiore per la signora?'

Oh, no, grazie.

Si!

Avaro! Come Se dice...

cheap!

Discerning.

- Grazie. - Grazie.

If you want a rose, I'll get you a rose.

I just won't waste money on this artificial rubbish.

It will never fade.

Never die.

Yeah, but it's not real.

Michelangelo's David isn't David.

"Ceci n'est pas une pipe."

If it's beautiful, does it matter?

You think he is responsible?

Denying it, of course, but they were seen rowing earlier in the evening.

And her purse is missing.

We're searching Sturgis' place now. No sign of it as yet.

At the bottom of the canal, as like as not.

I've divers coming in, but in my opinion,

the whole purse business is just a blind.

A domestic dispute leading to a murder, Thursday?

Such a ruse as you're suggesting

supposes a far greater presence of mind

than one usually finds in cases like these.

It's him. I know it is. I can feel it in my corns.

- I can crack him. - I'm sure.

Well, keep me abreast of any developments.

Of course.

Very well. Carry on.

Sir.

If I might ask, sir.

How's Mrs Bright bearing up?

As well as can be expected.

You're back, then? How was, um...?

Oh, you know.

So, what've I missed?

MAY 7, 1970

I'm given to understand that the ACC's daughter

was amongst a group of young women

making their way back from Lady Matilda's boathouse,

along the towpath,

when a man exposed himself to them.

Obviously, with the killer of the barmaid...

Molly Andrews, sir.

Yes, thank you, Sergeant.

the young woman at New Year, still at large,

the ACC is keen to know what progress is being made.

Bit of a sticker, sir.

But I'm still of the strong opinion that the boyfriend's responsible.

Carl Sturgis.

Her purse was taken, wasn't it?

Doesn't that suggest a robbery?

One wouldn't expect that in a domestic dispute.

The boyfriend always seemed a little pedestrian to my mind.

Plus, he's alibied, isn't he?

What's this?

Well, a cab driver said he picked him up outside The Grapes, smashed,

and dropped him at an address in Cowley.

Had to pour him through the letter box, supposedly.

Well, he could've come back.

That's if the cabby had the right man.

Sturgis did say that he got a cab though, didn't he?

One young drunk on New Year's Eve

looks much like another, I'd have thought.

Ye... I...

I was on leave the initial week of the investigation,

so I may not have the full picture.

Indeed.

Well, perhaps you might take another look.

What do you say, Thursday?

Fresh pair of eyes.

If you think so, sir.

Yes, well, I can't see the harm in it.

Done yourself an injury, Sergeant?

Rat, sir. Big bugger.

Been hanging about the coal shed.

Gave me a nip when I went up the yard last night to fill the scuttle.

But you've seen someone about it?

Yes, sir. Tetanus first thing. From the house man.

Where is he, the boyfriend?

- Carl Sturgis? - Mm-hm.

Drives for Duxbury's at Cowley.

Undertakers. I'll dig out the address.

Pedestrian? You never said.

Well, I came to it late.

I thought perhaps you knew something I didn't.

Not everything's a crossword puzzle.

Sometimes, how everything looks is how it is.

The boyfriend, the husband, the father, the brother.

Right, so, if you thought he did it,

why didn't you charge him?

We couldn't put him at the scene!

We turned his place inside out. Not a shred. No purse. No nothing.

And if he didn't do it?

Then I'm sure you'll get to the bottom of it.

Did Molly ever mention a college type?

Boyfriend, perhaps?

Not lately.

She did like the college-y ones.

Said they treated her more nice.

Thought I was done with kiddies.