Inspector Morse

I'd almost given up on you.

You'd better come in.

Sir.

Well, well, well. You dirty devil.

Sandra Harrison.

You said tonight.

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

Everything else is in working order.

"At 11, the news and weather."

"Just time to slip in one of my -"

Lower Swinstead. Sorry, sir?

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

Quick as you can!

Thank you, sir.

Anything? Not yet, sir.

Be sure to get the bloodstain.

No sign of a struggle.

Sir. Looks like a love letter.

Will you come and see me

for some... post-operative therapy?

I'm a terrible chatterbox,

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

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

Well, it just quacked again.

Why are anonymous letters always written in capitals Lewis?

I don't know. Why are anon-

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

Sit down.

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

'Yvonne Harrison, I mean.'

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

'Keep a close eye on him.'

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

Wasn't this the Chief Inspector's case?

Yes. Briefly. I took over from him.

He wasn't temperamentally suited to it.

I was on my inspectors' course at the time.

Yes, so you were.

Incidentally, sir, any news there?

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

I know. Flying colours, too.

But inspector vacancies don't grow on trees.

Isn't Morse going?

Blimey! Steady, the Buffs!

He still has two more months.

Patience is a virtue, Lewis.

Yes, sir.

He starts back tomorrow on full duties,

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

It comes to all of us, retirement.

Just think of all that golf, sir.

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

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

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

Habitual housebreaker.

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

What's the connection?

He's from Lower Swinstead.

The letter was postmarked from there.

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

I want you to keep an eye on him.

See who he meets, where he goes.

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

Nothing about the letter,

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

How do you find Morse these days?

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

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

And a bit grumpy at the moment.

No change there, then!

PHONE RINGS

Lewis.

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

To the chief super.

Oh, yes, sir. All good!

"Mr Sinclair to Outpatients Reception."

Sandra! You look especially fragrant this morning.

Do I, Sir Lionel?

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

No need for the silly old handle.

Respect where it's due.

I was never keen on over-familiarity.

I insist. Hm?

I really do.

Well...

See you this afternoon, then. Hm?

At Dr Wells' leaving do?

Is that today? I promised to rehearse -

noodle that I am!

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

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

Yes?

Yes, Dad. Just seen it.

Shall I call Simon?

Lewis.

Very nice, sir.

Very nice.

It's the one you gave me in hospital.

Oh, good.

'Classical Charisma.'

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

Very thoughtful. And I play it.

As often as I can.

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

Coffee?

I can't stop, I'm afraid.

Was there something special?

No. No. Not really.

Though now you're here,

I saw something in the paper about the Harrison case.

Bit of a wild goose chase if you ask me.

The super got an anonymous letter

about some burglar due out of Bullingdon tomorrow.

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

Well, there was a window smashed.

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

Lewis, she was naked, gagged,

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

Who is it, anyway?

Harry Repp. Do you know him?

We've had a run-in or two.

He's nasty, but not that nasty.

None of her family looked likely.

Husband, son Simon, daughter Susan.

Sandra.

Yes.

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

Confusing, though.

Like that burglar alarm.

What about it?

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

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

Now it is, yeah.

It was yours, though, first off.

Strange mentioned that, did he?

In passing.

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

No.

You must have some idea, surely, sir?

Strange by name...

How's Miss Cecil, sir? Adele?

Back from Australia soon, isn't she?

No. She's staying there.

There it is again!

New hobby, sir?

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

Lovely little chap.

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

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

Something rewarding, absorbing...

It's a little girl, actually.

Immature female of the species.

You impress me, Lewis. Which species?

Passer domesticus. Is it?

Exoticism in an Oxford Garden.

And all for a few nuts.

It's a common house sparrow, sir.

Ah.

Idiot!

Damn and blast!

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

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

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

What? Why should he?

Stranger things have happened.

Look, think back.

Was there anything at all,

anything, however trivial,

that happened while you were following this bus

from Bullingdon to Bicester?

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

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

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

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

If they did, he never got home.

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

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

Or that someone was following him.

Well?

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

It stayed between me and the bus almost to Bicester.

Color? Registration?

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

Anything behind you? Behind me?!

It's not the panto season, Lewis.

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

The black car in front of you was R309 UHM.

Stolen two days ago from Gerrard's Cross.

Shut your mouth. There's a bus coming.

You mean you followed me?

Nah! I'd have seen you!

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

Why?!

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

Thank you?!

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

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

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

But you were at the bus station? Yes.

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