What can you see?
Oh, sorry. It's fine.
Sorry. Sorry.
Thrice woe be unto him
who disturbs the sleep of Akhenaten.
Mr. Beavis.
Mr. Beavis!
But I have incontrovertible proof
that someone in this room is a murderer.
And that person is...
It's ridiculous.
Excuse me, sorry.
Early for the intermission?
Break in the reel, sir.
They're fixing it now.
The Pharaoh's Curse?
Maybe there is something to the legend after all.
Pop.
Giulia.
Go see to table four.
I'll make it up next week.
I'll be back for the rest.
Mr. Nero won't be happy.
Giulia?
It wouldn't hurt you to show some respect.
Good men died so you could cock a snook?
Granddad, you don't have to tell me who died.
Christ, do you think it matters to them who stands or don't
for the national anthem?
I'll wind the reel.
Good night, sir.
Good night, madam.
Good night, sir.
Just a few questions, Mrs. Lupin,
so we got everything straight.
You found the deceased at what time?
We meet again, Nayland Smith.
Suspicious?
Nothing obvious.
Died sometime between 1:00 and 3:00 in the night.
Know more once I've got his tripes in a tub.
That would accord with the landlady's statement.
She says he got back about midnight.
Ronald Beavis.
Worked at the Pitt Rivers Museum.
Doing what?
She doesn't know.
She said he was banging about quite a bit, making a racket,
then he went quiet.
Found him when she brought him his morning cuppa.
Would that be his usual time?
Midnight?
It varied, apparently.
Mostly worked nights.
Any next of kin?
Not as far as she knows.
You couldn't have a turn
through his pockets, could you?
He won't bite.
No.
Nothing, I'm afraid.
Apparently, his was name was Ronald Beavis.
Yes.
That much we know.
I need you to get to the Pitt Rivers,
find out what he did there.
Phone call, isn't it?
If you're willing to settle for the bare minimum, yes.
Speak to his colleagues.
See what they made of him.
Was he liked, disliked?
Did he owe any money?
Vice versa.
Any rows?
I can write a list for you, if it'd help.
It's just a sudden death.
There's no signs of violence.
No visible signs of violence.
"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio."
There isn't anything else...
Shall we say 3:00?
Mm-hmm.
Who's Horatio?
It pays to be thorough-- come on, Pitt Rivers.
Sure.
He's all right, you know.
He's too full of himself by half.
Don't tell me you're warming to him.
I suppose he's a certain eager puppyish charm.
If one goes in
for that sort of thing.
Thank you.
Where's Morse?
Sudden death in Jericho.
This started around midnight, according to the fire boys.
Seat of the fire was the front hall.
Petrol through the letterbox.
It's a miracle nobody was killed.
How many living there?
Six families.
Kenyan Asians.
The latest only moved in last week.
Nothing like a warm welcome.
Morning, sir.
Let's see.
What number was it again?
4429.
Well, we're only at 4482 now.
He must've come in for the last showing.
Well, was there many in?
Oh, packed.
Late night? Double-feature?
X certificate?
Horror.
Last night, it was The Pharaoh's Curse
and The Phantom Strangler.
All, all right, Miss Copperstone?
This gentleman is from the police.
Detective Sergeant Morse.
Armand De Vere, manager of the Roxy.
All's well, I hope.
Just a routine inquiry-- nothing to be alarmed about.
I may just take a look around, unless you've any objections.
Oh, by all means.
Hyde Park, the second
of many heated protest meetings,
and the target this time
is the government's proposed immigration bill.
More than 3,000 immigrants
were there to demonstrate their antagonism.
Chanting their hostility,
the marchers set off for Number Ten Downing Street
to deliver a memorandum, to the prime minister.
The landlord at Khartoum Street's
Eddie Nero, sir.
Only I can't see him burning down his own.
It brings in too much rent.
Who then? The locals?
What little bit of bugger-all they have got
they're frightened of losing to foreigners.
These people are British subjects.
Passport holders.
We have a responsibility.
I'm afraid we'll only see more of it, sir.
People whipping up ill feeling.
These "Make Britain Greater" types?
They put a leaflet through my door only the other day.
"Would you let your daughter marry a darkie?"
Two-bob Blackshirts.
I thought we'd seen the last of them.
Their sort's always around.
They find a rock to hide under till conditions are right
and then out they come.
"The river Tiber foaming with much blood."
Wasn't that it?
The Tiber's not the Isis.
Hatred is hatred.
Once that catches hold, there's no saying where it might lead.
What's this?
Emil Valdemar.
Oh, before your time, I expect.
One of the big three, he was.
Karloff and Lugosi
at Universal,
and Valdemar up the road at Mammoth.
And he's coming here, to the Roxy?
Tomorrow night.
He's over here shooting a sequel to The Pharaoh's Curse.
He's gonna show some clips
and take questions from the audience.
Tickets are going like hotcakes.
Gotta get one now, if you like horror.
I don't.
Hm.
Particularly.
Well, good luck with it.
The late, lamented Detective Sergeant Beavis.
Should have the bloodwork back tomorrow,
but heart, most likely.
Though it was probably a photo finish with his liver.
"Liked a drink."
Isn't that the phrase?
Sounds so much nicer than "chronic alcoholic."
I don't suppose whether you could say
he'd had a late fried breakfast.
Well, his last meal--
if you could call it that--
was less haute cuisine
and more chimps' tea party.
Some kind of cereal matter,
orange squash,
and vanilla ice cream.
Popcorn.
The... cereal matter.
He'd been to the Roxy on Pym Street.
Some sort of horror season.
Do you go in for that?
Cruelty, torture, and Kensington Gore?
For some of us, it's horror season all-year-round.
Hm.
Mr. Valdemar, sir?
They're ready for you on set.
Double eggs, chips, and beans, for table six.
Good afternoon.
I'm Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.
I'm trying to trace the movements
of a man who died suddenly at home.
I wonder if you could tell me if he'd been in here.
I must warn you, it's a post-mortem photograph.
No.
Miss?
It seems he ordered a number two breakfast,
but didn't eat it.
What my dad said.
I'm just trying to find out what time he might have been in.
Well, if you do remember anything, you can reach me here.
Thanks for the help.
And are you both in full-time employment at the moment?
Hello. Hello.
What's your name?
Eisha.
Anything from the Pitt Rivers?
He was a night watchman,
and sometimes he helped out moving the exhibits.
But they were a bit put out.
He was meant to be on duty last night.
- What's this? - That sudden in Jericho.
Ronald Beavis-- he worked there.
For about three years.
Everyone seemed to have liked him.
Very good, Constable, very thorough.
Wouldn't you say, Morse?
Yes, very.
How'd it go with the fire?
It was arson, no doubt about it.
House was filled with Kenyan Asians.
One of Eddie Nero's fire traps.
He was ex-job, Beavis.
Detective sergeant with County out of Banbury.
Retired in '59.
No next of kin on record.
Don't ring a bell.
Nothing suspicious, then?
No, not according to Dr. DeBryn.
But he had a bill for a number two breakfast
in his wallet, from Brown's Café.
I asked if he'd been in and they were...
Well, they were a bit cagey.
If someone keeled over after being in my caf,
I might be, too.
I don't care what you think you know or don't know.
Threaten me, and you'll bloody well regret it.
All right, Betty?
Yes, Mr. De Vere.
Oh, you're short on vanilla tubs.
Better restock before the intermission.
Help yourself.
Thank you.
It's Morse.
I'm going off shift as of 19:31.
Yup-- thank you.
Is everything all right?
Does it look like it?
Sorry.
I was supposed to be meeting someone.
Ah.
Where's a good place to get a drink round here?
Um...
Come with me.
I just finished work.
Morning.
Bye.
Tea's in the pot.
I think I'll have coffee.
Suit yourself.
Who's your friend?
It's just some girl.
I thought you were off the birds.
Strange.
Right, look sharp.
We've an arson on the Watt Court estate.
Aspirin's in the cabinet.
I'll get the car round.
Petrol through the letterbox.
Same as the multi-occupancy on Khartoum Street.
Hang on.
Hello, stranger.
Jim!
Long time, no see.
Oh.
You know how it is.
Miss Thursday.
Morse.
What's this, then, Joanie?
Um, I've been working here.
Part-time. Doing what?
Admin, mostly.
Been any trouble?
Someone threw a brick at the window yesterday.
Some yob.
There was an Asian family in
asking for advice.
Morse.
Word through from Dr. DeBryn on Beavis.
Says you and the DCI should drop by at your earliest.
I'll go and get him.
Well, WPC Trewlove will take your statement
when you're ready.
Good morning.
I'm Detective Sergeant Morse.
Oh, are you here for Fred?
Well.
Who's this, then?
Morse, he's called.
I'm Charlie, Fred's brother.
I see you met my good lady wife, Paulette.
Oh, yes, indeed.
Well, pull up a seat, son.
Take the weight off.
I expect you saw my car, did you?
Outside?
Wonder, it was.
We're up for the week, little break, see the sights.
It's our first time in Oxford.
Ah.
Anyone want more tea?
Oh, our daughter.
Carol.
This is Fred's boy from work-- Morse, is it?
Yes, uh...
Yes, pleased to meet you.
Maybe you could find time to show her round the place.
Dad! Me and Paulette are
taking Fred and Win out tonight for a slap-up meal.
She won't wanna be dragging about
with us old 'uns, will you?
Morse.
Ooh, aye-aye!
Look sharp! Officer on deck.
Morning, sir.
Sir, eh? Sir?
Get you, Fred-- well, how about that, then?
Arise, Sir Fred!
Station said something about another fire.
Yes, sir, at the Public Advice Center
on Watt Court estate.
I've left Strange and Fancy to deal.
Dr. DeBryn would like to talk to us about that sudden.
Public Advice Center?
Isn't that where Joan's working?
Yes.
I've seen her-- she's fine.
I was just asking your lad here
if he could find time to show our Carol around the town.
I shouldn't think he'll have time for that,
not with his duties.
Well, you're not at it 24 hours a day, surely, eh?
I wouldn't expect you to pay for it out of your own pocket.
Oh, no, no, no, no, that wouldn't be necessary.
Don't embarrass the man, Charlie.
Well, you could meet her in town somewhere.
Take her for a drink.
Say what? Around 7:00?
You'd be doing me a favor.
He doesn't want to.
No.
Um...
What about The Sheldonian?
Right.
Well, go and put some clothes on.
Walking around in barely a stitch,
showing everybody what you got.
Dad, it's so embarrassing.
I'll see you later-- Morse.
To the Batmobile, eh?
I have the toxicology report on Mr. Beavis's blood.
Nux vomica.
Ingested an hour or two
before his decease. Strychnine.
That would explain why he didn't eat the supper
he ordered at the greasy spoon.
So how'd he come by it?
Not at the caf, surely.
His shirt had one or two spots on it.
Once the lab identified poison,
I took a swab and tested it.
Came out positive.
The poison was in...
orange squash.
Uh, I'm afraid Mr. De Vere isn't on duty yet.
But I can get
the assistant manager, Mr. Bullings, for you.
If you would.
One for the teenagers?
Emil Valdemar? Must be 80 if he's a day.
He's doing some sort of talk here.
Proper old picture house.
Don't get many like this anymore.
We used to go down to the Mile End Rivoli
every Saturday morning.
The thruppenny rush.
I'd go in first and spring the window in the gents
for Chas and Billy.
You ever go?
Where? Saturday morning pictures?
My mother took me once.
All that screaming in the dark.
Was like something out of Dante.
Well, I couldn't hear the film.
Well, you don't know what you're missing.
Couple of Maroon Cartoons.
The serials.
A Western, if you're lucky-- Tom Mix.
Mind you, my favorite was always Laurel and Hardy.
"B-I-it me-- bit me."
It's gone now-- a buzz bomb got it.
Look, about Carol.
Don't feel you have to show her round on my account.
Oh...
Ah, back again.
Molly said something about the police.
DCI Thursday,
DS Morse, Thames Valley.
We're looking into the death
of one of your patrons.
Just need to ask a few questions.
Of course, anything I can do to help.
These cartons of orange squash--
the Whakahari-- they're sold here and where?
With the usherettes?
That's right.
They load up their trays from here or the general stores.
Right, so who was on the counter the night before last?
That would be me.
Do you remember serving this customer?
I must warn you, it's a post-mortem photograph.
No, I'm afraid not.
An usherette, perhaps?
There was only one on.
Betty.
Betty Persky.
Sorry, I don't remember him.
That's all right, Miss Persky.
The number of people who come through here,
it'd be a miracle if you remembered every customer.
You worked here long?
A year, just coming up.
Nice place?
Yeah, it's all right.
Though I don't know long it'll last.
How's that?
Well, there's talk of it being pulled down.
For flats, I think, or a car park.
Where'd you hear that?
Shh!
Off Mr. De Vere.
I was cleaning up behind the refreshments,
when I heard him talking to Mr. Kegworth,
the projectionist.
I mean, I say talking-- it was more like having words.
The Taj Mahal!
I've a friend up at head office.
He says there's been talk about closing the Roxy.
Some developer looking to buy the place.
And what did Mr. De Vere say?
That I shouldn't believe all that I hear.
The sons want to let it go,
but Mr. Jephson, Sr.,
wants to hold onto it.
Be a blow for you, I expect, if it went.
They'll all go in the end--
with the television.
I've been here since it opened 40 years near on.
I've been training my grandson Ken up to take over,
but he seems more drawn to the, uh, the management side.
When the Roxy goes, I'll go with it.
And that'll be that.
Excuse me.
Mr. Garnier?
You've any requests,
they'll have to wait for the next session.
Police, sir.
Detective Chief Inspector Thursday,
Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.
My playing wasn't that bad, surely?
Sounded very fine, sir.
No, we're pursuing inquiries into a patron of the cinema.
I wondered if you'd take a look at this photograph.
You've seen him?
Night before last.
Between the intermission and "The Queen,"
I've usually a couple of hours on my hands.
I'll have a smoke.
Maybe take a look
at the paper.
Normally, nobody's in here when the picture's showing.
Only this time, there he was.
Your man Beavis.
What was he doing?
Just standing there.
Waiting, I'd've said.
I asked him his business,
and he said he was looking for the gents.
So I told him where it was, and he went on his way.
And that was it, was it?
No.
Normally, I'd've forgotten all about it,
if that's all it was.
But sometimes when it's a clear night,
I'll go up onto the roof.
Oxford by moonlight.
Just you and the stars.
I heard someone talking,
so I wandered over to the edge,
and he was on the fire escape landing,
talking to someone by the circle fire exit.
And you couldn't see who it was he was talking to?
No, they never came out.
Then the door shut and he went on his way.
I stubbed my smoke and went back down.
Hard to see how someone could have got the poison inside
if it was sealed.
Nobody's gonna drink from a carton
that's already been opened.
All depends whether Beavis was the intended victim
or if we've got a madman on our hands.
He could have been poisoned at random, you think.
Just a face in the crowd.
The organist was under the impression
he was meeting someone at the Roxy, sir.
Maybe another patron or a member of staff.
Which would suggest that it was meant.
He was a retired detective sergeant.
One of his old cases, you think?
Someone with a grudge?
Nine years retired, sir.
Late in the day for revenge.
That's one thing it's never too late for.
Start going through his old cases.
See if he's ever nicked anyone who works at the cinema.
Well, unless he bought
his orange squash somewhere else.
That's unlikely,
I'd've thought.
But not impossible.
Trace all the routes he could've taken between the two,
show his picture at any pub
you find along the way.
What do we know about this cinema?
Not much, sir.
Owned by the Jepson family.
There was talk of it being sold for redevelopment,
but I can't see Beavis might figure in that.
Right, well, keep me informed.
Oh, anything more on these arson cases?
Well, a matter of fact, sir, I've just heard back
on the owner of the advice center.
Another one of Eddie Nero's.
The proverbial bad penny.
Nobody thought to burn down his wretched gym, I suppose.
Well, carry on.
You know, you shouldn't be too hard on the boy.
It's encouragement he wants.
A bit of praise goes a long way.
Checking local boozers?
That's not policework, that's a pub crawl.
He comes back with anything more than a skinful, I'll eat my hat.
All right, maybe it's a 20-to-one shot,
but I gave you a long lead often enough.
Some of the hare-brained schemes you come up with.
But I knew what I was doing.
Not always.
But often enough to make a difference.
Give him a chance.
He might surprise you.
As I told your colleague, he worked as a night-watchman.
Lately he'd been filling in for an attendant who's off sick.
Did he ever mention the Roxy Cinema to you?
A member of staff that he knew, maybe?
Not to me.
But I did not know him particularly well.
I am on loan from the Cairo Museum,
together with some of the visiting exhibits.
So you mind all the bits and pieces,
don't you?
If by that you mean, do I make sure no harm befalls
the priceless artifacts of my people's ancient history,
then, yes, I mind the bits and pieces.
No slight was intended, doctor.
With the British it never is.
And yet, as I say, I hardly knew him.
There is nothing more I can tell you.
If you will excuse me, I have much to do.
He doesn't seem to have been close to anyone at work,
but having met his supervisor, a Dr. Shoukry,
I can't say as I blame him.
Not what you'd call a sunny personality, sir.
And none too keen on the British
by the sound of things.
Yeah, well, we've all met that type.
Chip on their shoulder a mile wide.
Remember who it was built the bloody Suez Canal.
It was the French.
Was it?
Any event, working nights,
he mostly brought in his own snap.
So that still leaves only the cinema or the caf
where he might have come by
this poisoned squash.
Or a public house, of course.
Oh, yes.
Any luck with that, Constable?
No.
Nobody's-- nobody's seen him.
No, well... Morse thought it unlikely.
Cold water's good for hiccups.
One or two other matters
to go over, sir, if you've a moment.
Yes, yes, of course.
Don't ever come in here half-cut again.
Do you understand?
This isn't a game!
All done?
For now.
Got a nice bit of haddock for tonight.
Thought I might do it with a poached egg.
Bit of pepper.
Bread and scrape.
What?
Well, I can't.
I've got a date.
I wondered if I had the right place.
Everyone said this was it.
I was held up, at work.
I wasn't complaining.
A civil servant?
Well, you tell some people you're a police officer
and they run a mile.
You weren't exactly forthcoming yourself.
I remember there wasn't much talking at all.
And if I've put you on the spot,
they think I stayed at cousin Joan's.
What does she think?
She didn't think anything.
That's who I was supposed to be seeing.
Only she was busy.
Fate.
The thing about mistakes is not to repeat them.
Is that what it was?
A mistake?
It's not like anyone got hurt, is it?
What would you like to see first?
It's up to you.
Well, this is good a place to start as any.
The Sheldonian Theatre.
Built after the Restoration by Christopher Wren.
Named for the chancellor of the university at the time,
Gilbert Sheldon.
Shall we?
Well, this is very nice,
I must say.
The best in town, Win.
I made sure of that.
Order anything you like.
Tonight's on me.
No need to push the boat out, Charlie, not on our account.
Let me worry about that.
Ooh, it's a big menu.
Course it's a big menu.
It's not Sammy's Pie & Mash shop, is it?
Come on.
Let's have some service here, John.
My mouth's as dry as Geronimo's sock.
And through here
is the Radcliffe Camera.
Ah.
And this is Hertford Bridge.
Most people call it the Bridge of Sighs,
after its namesake in Venice,
but more closely it resembles the Rialto Bridge.
It's lovely. Mm.
The Ashmolean.
What? What is it?
Look, I can just get the bus back if you tell me which one.
And I won't say anything to Uncle Fred,
if that's what you're worried over.
No, no, no, it's not that.
I'm sorry.
What would you like to do?
Mr. Xarkoff-- Armand De Vere, the manager.
May I welcome you,
on behalf of Jephson Cinemas, to the Roxy?
Happy to be here.
May I present Miss Veronique Carlton,
our leading lady?
Charmed.
Wonderful to meet you, Miss Carlton.
Is Emil here yet?
He arrived about half an hour ago.
But he was feeling a little tired,
so I've let him use my flat.
"Apartment."
And Jason?
Running a little late.
Shall we?
Well, someone looks as though they've lost a shilling
and found a sixpence.
Don't you start.
Why? What's up?
I'm in the doghouse, aren't I?
Are you sure we're allowed in here?
I'm a policeman.
I'm allowed anywhere.
Another drink for Mr. Nero, please, Betty.
Oh, my God.
It's Jason Curwen.
Who?
The blind violinist
in Two Weeks in August.
With Diana Day!
What would you like to drink?
Oh, I don't mind.
You choose.
Yes, sir, what can I get for you?
Could I have a champagne and a scotch?
Thank you.
Not over there, okay?
That's all very well, professor, but you realize
every last member of the original expedition
died in highly unusual circumstances?
All except... yourself.
As may be, Steven,
but what you're suggesting
breaks all the natural laws of science known to man.
A creature restored to life
after three-and-a-half thousand years?
And hell-bent on revenge?
Impossible!
Excuse me.
...we can't do that!
No ifs, no buts-- exactly.
But Mr. Nero, please!
No-- go on.
I love you.
Victoria!
Steven!
Come to me!
Ladies and gentlemen.
A sneak preview of some marvelous clips
of Zoltan Xarkoff's latest production,
The Pharaoh Rises!
I must protest!
This fantasy is grossly disrespectful
to the culture of the Egyptian people!
Please sit down, sir.
Bad enough our treasures have for centuries
been plundered by Europeans, but this latest affront...
With the greatest respect, sir, it's an entertainment.
To you, perhaps, not for us.
Not for us.
Come along now, sir. I warn you.
All of you!
If you persist with this sacrilege,
you will answer for it!
Apologies, ladies and gentlemen.
Well, what can one say about the man we are to honor tonight?
Decorated war hero.
Star of the early silent films
alongside Pickford, Chaplin, and Fairbanks.
And then, the work
for which he is justly famous:
a classic series of horror films
at Mammoth Pictures Studios.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is a great honor to introduce
Emil Valdemar, MC.
You're very kind.
Thank you.
Well, that was lovely.
Drop more splosh, Win?
Not too much, Charlie.
You'll have me tiddly.
Dad...
Where's the, uh...
Just on the right were we came in.
I'll keep you company.
I'm bursting.
Good to see you, Fred.
You too, Charlie.
You're looking well.
How's business your end?
Well, you know, funny you should ask, Fred.
I'd like your advice
on a little thing that's come up.
But, not here, eh.
We'll talk about it amongst ourselves--
without the girls.
Course.
Nothing serious, though, is it?
No, no, no.
Never better.
Thursday.
Friend of yours, Fred?
Evening, sir.
I had no idea you were an habitué of Chez Andre.
Please sit down.
Oh, I'm not, uh, usually, sir.
My middle brother, Charlie.
Chief Superintendent Bright.
Bit of a mouthful.
What do they call you at home?
Reginald.
Pull up a chair. Join us for a nightcap.
No, no, really, I-I wouldn't wish to intrude
on a family occasion.
The more the merrier. I insist.
Well, that's very kind of you, thank you.
Another chair for our guest.
What can I get you, Reg?
Reginald.
I'll have a brandy, I think, if I may.
Talking about all those old movies
makes me wonder if I really did all that.
Well, you did-- and more.
And now, of course, The Pharaoh Rises!
in which you play not only the eponymous hero,
but also his nemesis.
Yes, two Valdemars for the price of one.
I should complain to my agent.
Lately you've been involved
in a hugely successful run
at International British Pictures.
Your Montressor in The Cask of Amontillado
being a particular pleasure.
You are very kind.
It would be fair to say, though, would it not,
that it's the part of Akhenaten
that made your name?
Yes, you could say that, yes.
The original production-- unusually for the time--
was filmed in Egypt.
It was.
Well, our producer, Meriam,
was such a stickler for authenticity.
She...
Wh-what?
This a regular haunt for you, then, Reginald?
Yes.
Sometimes, when Mrs. Bright is out for the evening.
Well, where's she off to tonight, then?
Down the Bingo?
No.
I believe it's the Unmarried Mothers.
Mrs. Bright does a lot of good works.
What line of work are you in, Charles?
I've a warehouse.
Shadwell Basin.
Thursday & Co.
Funny how the world turns-- our old man used to
bare knuckle it for a shift at the same gaff
that's now got my name over the door.
I'm sure Mr. Bright doesn't want to hear about that, Charlie.
Sorry, sir.
Not at all.
It's... fascinating.
And I think we can dispense with
formalities this evening, Thursday.
Yes, sir.
Mr... Reginald.
Bright, sir.
Sergeant? Strange? Good heavens.
Sorry to interrupt your evening, sir,
but there's been an incident at the Roxy.
What on earth is going on?
It's the organist, sir, Leslie Garnier.
I've the audience out of the auditorium
and into the bars and corridors.
What about the staff?
They're helping guard the exits.
Eddie Nero's here.
He's in the manager's flat
with the rest of the VIPs.
Right, uniform taking down particulars?
Yes, sir.
You have any idea how long we'll be here?
We're on set at 7:00
and Emil's in make-up at 5:00.
I'm afraid not, Mr. Xarkoff.
But perhaps in the meantime, I could freshen your glasses?
Well, I was hoping to present this after the interview,
on behalf of Jephson Cinemas, Mr. Valdemar,
a small token of our appreciation and admiration.
Oh, how very kind.
What is the meaning of this?
Kenneth? What happened to the watch?
I've-I've no idea, sir, I put it in there myself.
I'm so frightfully sorry, Mr. Valdemar,
there's clearly been a mix-up.
Take it away, Kenneth, take it away.
Could it have been natural causes?
Well, it could,
but we've one death connected to the cinema already.
I thought it best not to take any chances.
But you've no reason to suspect anything untoward?
Garnier said he saw Beavis talking to somebody
on the fire escape.
Maybe that same someone saw Garnier talking to us.
Or maybe Garnier went to them.
Blackmail.
I saw him take a drink from the bar at 8:00.
And he collapsed
at half past 9:00. If it was strychnine
in the martini, he'd've felt the effects much later.
What if it was something faster acting?
Or he was poisoned earlier?
Either are possible, of course,
but I'm afraid I won't be able to give you a definitive answer
until I've got the results of his blood.
But you can't imagine any of the guests
had anything to do with Leslie's death?
They never met him till today.
It's unlikely, sir, I grant you, but they may have
seen or heard something that has a bearing on our inquiries.
Oh, he's had some sort of heart attack, hasn't he?
Or a seizure or something.
We won't know the cause of Mr. Garnier's death
until after the post-mortem is concluded.
But it is the second sudden death
connected to the Roxy in the last three days.
What's your business with Eddie Nero?
You were seen in private conversation with him.
He's a guest of Mr. Jephson Jr.,
the son of the owner.
He generously offered to take everyone out to dinner
at his club.
Ladies and gentlemen, if I might have your attention,
these gentlemen are from the police.
Detective Chief Inspector Thursday.
Detective Sergeant Morse.
Thames Valley.
We'll try not to detain you any longer than necessary,
but we will need to ask questions
of all of you in turn.
All right, Carol?
Think you'd better cut along home.
Morse'll get a constable
to drive you back. Morse?
Mr. Jephson,
if I may start with you.
I don't know what it was in the box,
but the poor old man looked like he'd had an awful shock.
Here, let me.
Well, thanks for a memorable evening.
I don't suppose I'll be seeing you again
before we go back.
Well, I don't see how I can compete with Jason Curwen.
It wasn't a mistake.
Not everything has to be more than it is.
Constable Davies will see you home.
Davies, this is DCI Thursday's niece.
If you could. Hiyah.
Doesn't matter what stone I turn over, does it?
I'm a great patron of the arts.
Ask anyone that knows me.
You wouldn't get out of bed unless there was a dollar in it.
What's your business with De Vere?
Nothing.
I met him through the owner.
Mr. Jephson and I are in business together.
Have you ever have any dealings with Leslie Garnier?
The organist?
I'm more of an Errol Garner man myself.
What about Ronald Beavis?
The only Ronald Beavis I know
is Ronnie Beavis.
One of yours out of Banbury.
Tried to fit me up on a B&E charge once.
Haven't seen him in donkeys. Why?
Is that it, then?
I can go?
For the minute.
You never asked about the arson.
Khartoum Street, now this Public Advice Center.
That makes two of yours in as many days.
Be these racialists, I'd've thought, wouldn't you?
Nice little earner.
Shoveling them up from the airport.
Bustling 'em off to Christ knows where?
How many more dosses you got like that round town?
If they weren't renting off me,
it'd all be on the council,
wouldn't it?
Should be some sort of civic award for people like me.
Don't hold your breath.
Second thoughts.
Go on, you're done for now.
So you hadn't met Mr. Garnier?
No.
There really isn't much I can tell you.
I was up here until the manager came to collect me
a few minutes before I was due on.
Did anyone bring you a martini from the bar?
No.
The manager, Mr. De Vere,
did offer to bring me a little tincture,
but it must have slipped his mind.
I understand you had something of a shock earlier.
A gift from the management.
They wanted to give me a watch,
which had gone astray.
But on top of this
awful thing with that man dying,
I really didn't think it was the right time or place.
You know him well, the organist? Leslie?
Oh, yes, sir.
Best part of ten years, I should think.
I came across from the Stoll-Moss circuit
and Leslie was already installed.
Very nice gentleman. Variety?
Oh, yes, sir. I've opened the doors
for all the greats.
Probably why Leslie and I got on so well.
We'll need a next of kin.
He was a single man, sir.
Much like myself.
I'll miss my pal.
He always had a friendly word.
And he was a master of the Compton.
The organ, sir.
I used to play a bit myself, sir.
The piano, in my younger days, of course.
Before...
King and country, sir.
So we had that in common too, the music.
What happened to the man who caused the disturbance earlier?
I threw him out on his ear, sir.
On the street where he belongs.
I know Arabs, sir.
You can't trust a one of 'em.
All right, you go about your business,
a constable will take over from here.
He was popular with the rest of the staff, Miss Persky?
I think he'd had a falling out with Mr. De Vere.
I couldn't say what over, but I just heard Mr. De Vere
say, "Don't you threaten me," or something like that.
When was this?
Last night during the first feature.
Did you make Mr. Garnier a martini?
Oh, no, sir.
Usually, he'd have one waiting for him on the organ
to sip at.
Part of his act, you know,
he'd raise his glass to the audience,
but we were under strict orders from Mr. De Vere
to keep him straight.
He threatened you.
With what?
He said he wanted to quit,
not for the first time, and I called his bluff.
Leslie had a weakness for the booze.
The whole national anthem thing was so he could get out of here
and get into the pub.
You liked him?
Yes.
Apart from the drink.
I felt a bit sorry for him, truth be told.
He'd played all over the world, you know.
On the liners after the war.
Expect coming to the Roxy was a bit of a comedown
after that sort of life.
You put a drink on the bar earlier in the lounge.
Who was that for?
Mr. Valdemar.
Mr. De Vere asked me to. But Mr. Garnier took it.
I wouldn't know, sir.
I set it on the bar, turned round
to take another order,
and when I looked back it'd gone.
I thought Mr. De Vere must've collected it.
I believe there was something of upset earlier
with Mr. Valdemar.
Something to do with a present?
Oh, yeah.
Mr. De Vere bought him a watch as a thank you from the cinema.
He showed it to us when he fetched it back.
He asked me to find a nice box for it.
I got hold of one, put the watch inside,
and left it in Mr. De Vere's office.
So anyone could have had access to it?
Sure.
And what was in the box when he opened it?
Funny looking little thing.
See for yourself.
I'll need a list of everyone in the audience
as soon as you can.
Yeah.
Well, I'll catch a lift back off uniform, eh?
You go on.
All right, fine. Been a long night.
I don't suppose Valdemar's still here, is he?
Gone. Why?
That present that he was given.
Hieroglyphics?
Someone playing a joke on him? Don't know.
But if that glass that Garnier took from the bar
does contain poison, he wasn't the intended victim.
The drink was meant for Valdemar.
Thank you.
Thanks.
Pissed the bed?
You know me, Fred.
Early riser. Always have been.
Cup of tea?
One just brewed.
It's the business.
I need a loan.
Only short term.
Just so I can make the payroll this month.
You'll get it back.
Every last penny.
With interest, I swear.
Can't you go to the bank?
I'm in it with them up to here.
And that's all it is?
No one's leaning on you? The Twins?
No, no, nothing like that.
Well...
I've only ever had a copper's wages.
Two kids.
Mortgage.
I've got the pension to fall back on,
and we've got a bit put by, but I'm no Rockefeller.
And I'd need to talk to Win.
How much are we talking about?
This was stolen from us.
It's a funerary scarab.
New Kingdom.
Armana period.
Inscribed with the Nomen cartouche
for the pharaoh Akhenaten, formerly Amenhotep IV.
Akhenaten?
That's the same character played by Emil Valdemar, isn't it?
He wasn't a character.
He was a ruler of Egypt.
Come with me, please.
It went missing from here.
Would Beavis have had keys to this cabinet?
He'd certainly know where to find a set.
Does it have some sort of special meaning, this scarab?
Traditionally, it is placed inside the body
in place of the heart.
It bears also lines from the Book of the Dead.
An appeal to the heart not to speak against the dead.
If the heart is found wanting by the rulers of the afterworld,
the deceased are barred from passing on to the afterlife.
Where did you come by it?
It was at the Roxy Cinema last night.
I understand you caused
quite a stir there, Doctor.
So would you, Chief Inspector.
These films are a travesty.
A calumny upon Egypt and all Egyptians.
Just a bit of fun, surely?
There is a time for fun.
My country is at war
with Israel.
A situation you British created.
My own son
was shot down over Suez last July.
These films, this nonsense,
makes mockery of the history and culture
he died to defend.
Forgive me, Dr. Shoukry.
One father to another, you have my condolences.
Are you absolutely sure Dr. DeBryn?
Cyanide.
Not strychnine?
I found the remains of a capsule of the same
stuffed inside the olive in the martini.
As the alcohol dissolved the casing
so the cyanide seeped out.
It was meant for Valdemar, then.
Valdemar said he never met Garnier, didn't he?
Yeah. Why?
Autograph book.
Oh yes.
That was in his jacket, along with his wallet.
Final entry.
Emil Valdemar.
Well, Mr. Garnier certainly had a collection
of the great and the good.
Looks like a lifetime's hobby.
Gracie Fields.
George Formby.
Laurel and Hardy.
Must've been their last tour, sir.
1953. I tried to get tickets.
Worth a lot of money, I should think,
something like this to a collector.
But the point is Garnier must have seen Valdemar
in order to get his signature.
Why did Valdemar deny it?
Seems a trivial matter to lie about.
So Beavis nicks this beetle or whatever it is
from the Pitt-Rivers, and tries to flog it to... who?
And how did it get to be in Valdemar's gift?
The only prints on it are mine,
Valdemars, and Beavis's.
Valdemar had no connection to Beavis, so far as we know?
Not that we've been able to establish yet, sir.
Strange is also looking at all the staff
to see if their paths ever crossed with Beavis.
From his time at County, you mean?
Yes, sir.
There may be more among Garnier's belongings
might shed light.
Constable Fancy's collecting evidence from his flat,
while Morse and me brace Valdemar.
You think he might have been intended victim?
If the glass that Garnier took from the bar was poisoned,
almost certainly.
Roll camera!
Action!
Victoria!
Over here, Professor!
And cut!
Print!
Moving on.
It is my signature.
But you don't remember signing it for Mr. Garnier?
When you've been signing autographs for as long as I have
I could have signed dozens yesterday evening.
You don't notice people's faces.
But Akhenaten's cartouche?
I would not commit that mark to paper.
Why not, sir?
The Pharaoh's Curse was well named.
Of all the people involved in that production...
I am the last one left alive.
Why's that so unusual, sir?
You were a relatively young man when the picture was made.
And, well...
Now I'm an old man?
Maybe so.
But within a year, two of the cast members were dead.
The director died in a plane crash.
It's been like that ever since.
Every year one or two more.
It's Hollywood hyperbole, surely.
Something to help sell the film.
Would that it were.
What made you think there was something to it?
We shot exteriors on location,
but when we returned to the studio,
we were using properties loaned to us by Hearst--
genuine antiquities
he'd acquired some way or another.
A delegation from the Egyptian consulate
tried to picket the studio.
They said we were desecrating their rites and sacred relics,
and no good would come of it.
And what happened?
The studio had the police move them on.
They're a superstitious, vengeful people.
I know.
I saw enough of them during the Great War.
I was up the desert too, sir.
In the second go.
Then you know what I mean.
So that's why you reacted as you did when you saw the scarab?
I used to think it was a load of nonsense.
Now, I'm not so sure.
Emil, we're ready for you.
I'm afraid there's really nothing more I can tell you.
I might've signed that autograph,
but I would never-- never-- use the cartouche of Akhenaten.
It's a rum go, no mistake.
What do you make of Dr. Shoukry?
Well, he has a fair grievance I suppose.
Bad enough to see its nation treasures plundered,
but to watch its culture turned into a cheap thrills?
Enough to kill someone over, though?
The cinema's assistant manager,
Kenneth Bullings, sir.
30th January 1941.
He's form for theft.
Affray. Most of it juvenile.
But we've an ABH in 1958 handled by County.
The investigating officer was Ronald Beavis.
You've got something of a checkered past, Mr. Bullings.
Affray, assault, occasioning actual bodily harm.
Do you remember who pinched you on that?
That was ten years ago.
No, I don't.
Then you'd be surprised, to learn it was Ronald Beavis,
a patron of the Roxy.
He was at The Pharaoh's Curse the other night
and found dead in his flat the following morning.
Poisoned.
Just like Mr. Garnier.
I don't know anything about that.
Is that the truth, Kenneth?
'Cause if you are involved in some way,
you'll feel a so much better if you get it off your chest,
I promise you that.
You didn't mean to kill Garnier, did you?
Listen, I've come here to talk to you of my own free will.
And now you're being interviewed under caution.
So take thought.
You made that martini for Valdemar.
I told you I did.
Just the way he likes it.
One part martini to two part vodka.
Dash of bitters. And an olive.
No.
A twist of lemon.
You sure about that? Yeah.
He can't bear olives.
Famous for it.
Was in an interview I read with him.
They remind him of Egypt.
Guess he had too many of 'em when he was making
The Pharaoh's Curse.
Christ, you think I put something in his drink?
I didn't, honest.
I'm not the same as when I was a kid.
Ask anybody that knows me.
So if the martini Garnier took from the bar
didn't have an olive in it
that means Valdemar's drink wasn't poisoned.
And Garnier was the intended victim.
Nothing to do with Valdemar and his curse.
Which makes the scarab business, what,
just a bit of mischief?
Well, it's a pretty extreme bit of mischief,
given that the man who stole that scarab is not dead.
We've only got Shoukry's word for it,
that Beavis could have taken it, don't forget.
More to the point, how did Garnier
come by the poisoned martini, if not from Bullings?
Given his form, my money's still on Kenneth.
When he was younger, yeah.
He got in with a bad crowd.
But he's a good lad at heart.
And I should know, I've had the raising of him.
How's that?
His mother upped and went off with a Canadian.
He didn't want to be landed with another bloke's kiddie.
So, it's just been Ken and me.
I've done my best by him.
Why, where was his father?
Tobruk.
He was buried out there.
Well... what was left of him.
Panzer.
Flamethrower.
What's all this?
Everything from Garnier's flat.
Pays to be thorough, right?
Quite right, Constable.
It's mostly old tat from Garnier's travels, sir.
I brought his post too, lots of bills and final demands
as far as I can see.
Right, well, put them on the evidence table
and I'll give it a look through
once I've been through the audience particulars.
Evenin', Pop.
Guilia.
You got what I come for?
There.
Wasn't so hard, was it?
Guilia.
Liam Flynn.
Died in the ambulance.
Three stab wounds.
Two of which would have tested the finest of surgeons.
Blade about six inches long.
There's not much more I can tell you, I'm afraid.
All right, Doctor, thank you very much.
Flynn.
One of Eddie Nero's men, isn't he?
Wallet's empty.
So you've never seen him before?
No.
I don't know who he is.
His name was Liam Flynn.
He earned his living extorting money
from businesses like yours.
Protection racket.
For a man called Eddie Nero.
I wouldn't know anything about that.
I told you what happened-- that's it.
All right, Mr. Gallo.
We'll just have a quick word with your daughter
and we'll be on our way.
She's got nothing to say more than what I've said.
Why don't we sit down, Miss Gallo.
Your name came up on a list of cinema goers at the Roxy
the night the organist died.
Yeah.
My night off.
My boyfriend works there.
Who's your boyfriend?
Ken.
Ken Bullings.
His granddad's the projectionist.
Dad doesn't like him, so don't say anything.
He'd only start creating.
Well, what the eye don't see.
But we'll need you to come clean about last night.
Your father was paying Flynn off, wasn't he?
For how long?
Long as I can remember.
Had anyone else been in trying to offer their services?
I think you should go now.
Wha... look, we can help you, Mr. Gallo.
Protect you from Nero.
No. You can't.
Go now.
Please.
Liam Flynn.
What's it to do with me?
They've kept quiet.
Gallo and his daughter, in case you're wondering.
That's how your protection racket works, isn't it?
People're too afraid to speak out.
If anything happens to them,
we'll come after you with everything we've got.
I'm quaking.
It's not us you've got to worry about, though, is it?
Two of your properties burnt out,
now one of your arm-breakers draws the short straw.
I didn't know better,
I'd say someone's trying to turn you over.
I'd like to see 'em try.
Hm, who wouldn't?
The eyes were more deep set, I think, but apart from that...
How about this?
Better. Yeah.
- Okay. - Yeah, that's better.
Miss Thursday's just giving us
a description of the type that did the windows in
at the advice center.
Right.
Well, when you're done, if you've got a minute.
Okay.
So?
Well, I just wanted a word, that's all.
Haven't seen much of you lately.
You're all right, are you?
I think I'm out of a job,
but apart from that I'm okay.
You've been working at this advice center?
A few days a week.
Can't be much money in that.
There isn't.
But I like it.
You might look in.
I know you've seen Carol, but your Uncle Charlie
and your Aunt Paulette'd like to see you.
No need to worry about running into me.
I'm at work.
It's not like that.
Isn't it? No.
I'm just finding my feet is all.
Charity work?
It's just helping people.
Same as you.
Oh, sorry, sir, I can come back.
No, Jim, it's all right, I was just on my way.
If you've a minute, sir,
Mr. Bright would like a word about the Flynn stabbing. Right.
Well.
You know where to find me if you need anything.
Mind how you go.
Oh. Hi.
Hello.
How're things?
Oh, you know.
Same as ever.
You met Uncle Charlie, then?
What did you make of him?
Carol's nice, though.
You see her?
Yes.
I haven't seen her for ages.
I was supposed to see her on Tuesday, but something came up.
How's she looking now?
Oh, I'm just the driver.
No time to socialize.
Just a quick "Hello," "Goodbye."
Yeah...
I remember those.
Give her my love if you run into her before she goes back.
Don't expect I'll have time to see her now.
Yeah, you're busy.
Yeah.
Yeah... you?
Always.
Well, I won't keep you from it.
Bye.
That bit of business.
I'm bringing it forward.
After hours.
Is that wise?
Wise?
I've got the filth all over me with Flynn's stabbing.
I want it over.
But...
I'm not asking. I'm telling.
When?
Tonight.
Hello, can you connect me
to the Peninsular and Oriental Head Office, please?
So, what couldn't wait?
The autograph book doesn't belong to Leslie Garnier, sir.
How's that?
Well, take a look at the autographs.
The only one with a dedication to Garnier,
is the last one from Valdemar.
Well, that's a pretty big conclusion
to draw from not much.
There's something else.
You said it yourself.
Laurel and Hardy were in England in 1953.
At that time, Garnier was aboard
a cruise ship, The Happy Wanderer.
I've spoken to P&O and on the night of the tenth of February,
it was anchored off Sydney.
So... whose autograph book was it?
It's not Garnier's.
I think, with all of this Egyptiana-- the scarab,
the fact that Beavis died after watching The Pharaoh's Curse.
I think somehow it's tied in to Valdemar.
Valdemar?
Beavis steals the scarab from the Pitt-Rivers museum
and meets whoever hired him to hand it over at the cinema.
Only I don't think the killer had any intention
of leaving Beavis alive to be in a position to expose him.
So he spikes his carton of orange juice.
How does he manage that?
The cartons're all sealed aren't they?
If he's buying them off the usherette,
all her cartons have to be poisoned.
Else she's in on it.
Here. Try one.
Go on it's perfectly safe.
Oh, sorry.
Take this.
I just killed you.
It's not in the juice.
The poison was in the straw.
Garnier said Beavis was waiting for someone
in the private lounge, but none of the staff can remember
selling him a Whakahari.
So how's he come by it then?
Well, once the film has started, all eyes are on the screen.
So whoever's buying the scarab can slip into the cinema
in the dark, take the seat next to Beavis,
hand him a carton of squash, and a straw laced with strychnine.
Member of staff, then.
If they've access to the refreshments stall.
See, we were never meant to look into Beavis's death,
a nobody without a friend in the world who died
supposedly of natural causes at home.
I think it's about Valdemar.
He's the original intended victim.
How d'you mean?
Garnier was never meant to die.
But once we came around asking questions about Beavis,
I think he took it upon to himself to make inquiries
of his own before naming names.
You think he confronted the killer?
Well, I think he saw an opportunity to make some money.
To stop playing for peanuts in some fleapit cinema.
Garnier saw Beavis hand over the scarab.
I thought he didn't see who was with Beavis.
Well, he saw enough to know who it was.
What could he have seen from up there?
An arm? A sleeve?
Don't you think there's something odd
about this autograph book?
Look, all of the signatures
are written across the narrow of the page,
rather than its length, and all crammed in.
And all of them, on the same side of the book.
So?
Who holds a bloody book like that?
Someone who has to.
A man with only one hand.
And that's what Garnier saw from the rooftop.
The commissionaire?
Well, he'd worked the variety circuit,
opened the door for all the greats.
It's just another autograph book
stuck under the nose of a star
who doesn't even see who he's signing for anymore.
So, what?
Gordon adds Akhenaten's cartouche,
and slips the book into Garnier's pocket
before the performance.
Maybe he asked Garnier to mind it for him.
Or perhaps he did it
when he swapped the martini with the twist
for the martini with an olive.
There you go.
Not a word to Mr. De Vere.
I can keep a secret, Edmund.
So long as the price is right.
Why, though?
Where's the motive?
What possible link could it be to a Hollywood star
and a one-armed doorman?
Well, actually there is a connection.
It's the same thing they have in common with you, sir.
Of course.
What?
Hello?
You don't remember me,
Mr. Valdemar.
I'm afraid I don't.
Should I?
No.
I suppose not after 50 years.
But I remember you.
What?
Second Lieutenant Roberts.
Private Gordon, sir.
Worcestershire Pals.
Good Lord.
Coming back to you now, sir?
Nablus.
That's right, sir.
The advance to the Wadi el Fara road.
You ordered our section to charge
an Ottoman machine gun emplacement.
That was the order that came down the line.
No, sir.
The order that came down the line was to stand fast.
I found that out later.
The battle was already won.
But young Second Lieutenant Roberts
hadn't got himself a medal.
And that wouldn't do.
Mowed down.
A whole section.
My brother Ernie among them.
Cost him his life.
I was lucky--
just an arm.
And the hope of a life.
A normal man's life leastways.
But we took that machine gun.
And you got your medal.
Course, by the time I was discharged from hospital,
the armistice had been signed,
and nobody was much interested in how a dozen men died
when the world was mourning 17 million.
I was 19.
Oh, I remember, sir.
Scarce old enough to shave.
But old enough to lie.
It was your report of the action
that stood in the regimental record.
Made the papers too.
"How the brave young second lieutenant won through."
No, no, no, no, no, that wasn't me.
That was the papers.
The country needed heroes.
Come on.
I tried to forget it.
That's the thing.
To put it all behind me,
and the only place, funnily enough,
that I could put it out of my mind was at the pictures.
And then one day
there you were...
Up on the screen, large as life.
Larger.
Only you weren't
Second Lieutenant Roberts any more.
You were Emil Valdemar...
...star of The Pharaoh's Curse.
Oh, smoke...
That'll be Mr. De Vere, sir.
He's setting a fire to burn the place down
so the owners will sell.
Doesn't much matter now.
What do you want?
Justice.
For the boys.
After 50 years, an end to it-- for you and me.
We should've gone with them.
Only we didn't.
I can put that right now.
There's a piece of white cloth by the organ, there, sir--
and a safety pin.
What?
You remember what happened
to cowards, sir.
Shot at dawn.
You pin it over your heart.
I'll do no such thing.
With or without-- it's all the same to me.
Gordon!
What the hell's going on?
Morse.
Morse!
He's coming. He's coming! Follow me.
Gordon!
Stay back!
Don't!
Gordon! Come back now.
Come on.
Thanks very much, matey.
No survivors according to the fire boys.
With De Vere gone we've no way to prove
who put him up to setting the fire.
No way to prove it maybe, sir,
but Eddie Nero's very close with the owner's son.
He was for selling the place, wasn't he?
I suppose there's nothing to stop it being developed now.
We'll get Nero, sir, sooner or later.
Will we?
Division's eye turned upon Thames Valley?
This race business.
Now one of Nero's racketeers stabbed to death in the street.
It bodes ill, Thursday.
We're still on the job, sir.
I fear this time that might not be enough.
"Except the Lord keep the city,
the Watchman waketh but in vain."
Listen...
No, no. On your way now.
You don't want to hit the rush hour.
You're the best of us, Fred.
The best of us never came home.
Well, that's that, then.
Yeah.
That's that.
You do not need it for evidence?
There's no case to take to court, Doctor.
It's back where it belongs.
The man who did these things,
in the final judgment,
did his heart speak against him, do you think?
Gordon?
Who knows?
I'm not one for all that.
And the afterlife?
Lies beyond our jurisdiction.
A detective and the archaeologist.
Perhaps we are not so very different after all.
How's that?
We both speak for those who cannot.
You with your fingerprints, and me with my fragments of pottery.
We are each of us, I think, keepers of the dead.
How does someone start a policeman,
and end up a thief?
Beavis, you mean?
Well, you know as well as I do,
that given the right circumstances,
anybody's capable of anything.
Plus he had no family
to keep him on the straight.
Lot to be said for family.
And what if you don't have any?
Do you think that's how you end up your days?
Alone in some two-bob kip
with nothing but a bottle for company?
That's his future, not yours.
You'll make better choices.
Oh, Carol said to say cheerio, by the way.
They've gone back, then?
Yeah.
Yeah, they've gone back.
It was good of you to show her round.
Don't mention it.