Apollo

ALAN CUMMING: This is "Masterpiece Mystery!"

I'll let you get settled in.

MORSE: I thought we were here to get to the truth of what happened.

You're here to follow my orders.

HILDY: There was a car accident.

They were both killed.

I warned her not to go, Colonel.

Drake thought we'd take the crash at face value.

He didn't count on you.

What is you do here?

We help people.

(people screaming) GABRIEL (on tape): What's the worst thing you've ever done?

ELLIOT (on tape): You're asking me that now?

Maybe you're looking to prove a point.

MORSE: The only thing that I'm trying to prove is who's behind all this.

CUMMING: "Endeavour," tonight on "Masterpiece Mystery!"

(thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) (Puccini playing on record player) ♪ Che gelida manina se la lasci riscaldar ♪ ♪ Celcar che giova ♪ ♪ Al buio non si trova ♪ ♪ Ma per fortuna... ♪ (banging on wall) MAN: Turn it down!

(banging continues) Turn the music down!

♪ E qui la luna l'abbiamo vicina... ♪ (television playing in background) MAN (on television): We're handing it back... PETER (on television): The moments until launch ticking away, we're joined live from Oxford Observatory by Professor Adam Drake.

Can you hear me, Professor?

DRAKE (on television): Yes, Peter, I can hear you.

PETER: I understand your team will be monitoring the launch, and tracking Apollo as it approaches the moon.

Well, Peter, the tracking will be done by our colleagues at Dodrell Bank.

We will, of course, be analyzing the data.

He's very good, isn't he?

♪ ♪ (screaming) (recorder clicks) GABRIEL (on tape): Tell me: what's the worst thing you've ever done?

(crying) ISOBEL: She's always been selfish.

And we've given her everything.

Oh, it's all attention-seeking.

I suppose it'll be to do with some boy she's been mooning over.

PETER (on television): And how will Armstrong and Aldrin and Collins be feeling right now?

Well, I think it's safe to say they'll be feeling a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

♪ ♪ (radio static hisses) MAN (on radio): Ten.

Nine.

Ignition sequence has begun.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Lift-off.

That is lift-off at 32 minutes past the hour.

Lift-off for Apollo 11.

The rocket is now clear of the launch tower.

♪ ♪ (ship landing) (explosion ignites) (second explosion erupts) (fire extinguisher blasting) (talking quietly) One more for Professor Drake.

It looked perfect to me.

Yes, well, when you're a professor of astrophysics, we'll take your word for it.

♪ ♪ (tape locks into place) (rock song playing) (rock song continues) The woman from the village who does for us brought it back from Spain.

As a present!

Look.

Oh, God.

(laughing) (gasping): Adam, darling!

You made it!

How are you?

This is Christine.

Oh.

♪ ♪ Of course, the other wives are just green.

The bursar's wife said to me the other day, she said being married to Larry must be a little like being married to an astronaut.

DRAKE: My little television piece went over well, don't you think?

LARRY: I thought you might have made more of the part played by British know-how.

No Tom Bacon, no fuel cells.

No fuel cells, no moon.

Bacon must be 65 if he's a day, and Cambridge.

ELLIOT: Let the Fens claim him.

Oxford has a young Helios Apollo of its own.

I thought you were bloody brilliant.

Excuse me for a minute.

You know, I think if you really applied yourself, you could probably get the whole of your tongue up his exhaust.

They're a bit square, aren't they?

Couldn't we make our excuses?

(action movie music plays) (car engines roaring on screen) (car tires squealing) (engine revving) (car engine revving) (action movie music continues) (tires screeching) (tires screeching on film) (metal crunching, glass shattering) (elevator dings) MAN (on police radio): Unit Three to DCI Box.

All units in position, governor-- standing by.

Five minutes yet.

JAGO: Young eel.

Five letters.

THURSDAY: Elver.

E-L-V-E-R. (telephone rings at station) (ringing continues) Morse.

MAN (on police radio): Wages van in view.

It's on, boss.

Right.

No, best stay in the car, Fred, these boys are handy.

I'm all right.

I know you are.

I'd just sooner you stayed on the bench for this one.

Morning, sir.

Morse?

Good heavens!

Well, what's this?

I thought you were out by Woodstock.

I had notice from Division to transfer back to C.I.D.

in town.

Started this morning.

Indeed.

Well, that is good news.

Suspicious?

Seemingly not.

MORSE: Then what warrants the presence of C.I.D.

and an officer of senior rank at a common or garden RTA?

The driver's a Professor Adam Drake.

The moon man?

Ah.

Any other vehicles involved?

Not according to Accident Investigation.

Well, there's no skid marks.

Asleep at the wheel, possibly?

Alcohol, perhaps, and speed?

Right.

♪ ♪ THURSDAY: Police!

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

(object bangs) (grunts) (blows landing) (Thursday groans in pain) BOX: Fred!

MAN: Go, go, go!

(groans) Told you to stay in the car, didn't I?

(groans) (breathing heavily) MAX: I wouldn't get too close.

Exsanguination.

Distinct smell of alcohol from his mouth, some sort of vermouth, to my nose, but you may have a better... MORSE: I'll take your word for it.

Straightforward drink-drive, then.

Showing off for the girl?

These were in his pocket.

Drake's, presumably.

The car belongs to a Dr. Laurence Humbolt.

Address in North Oxford.

What about this passenger?

Oh, I haven't got to her yet.

Thrown clear, by the look of things.

Now... Well, there's a thing.

Livor mortis.

This purpling you see here.

Once the heart stops pumping, blood settles according to gravity.

It should be on the other side of her face.

There's also a marked lack of bleeding from the laceration to her forehead.

So she was dead before the car hit the tree.

That could be why there's no skid marks.

He crashed the car intentionally?

Dead girl on board, perhaps he had cause.

(phone ringing) (knocks lightly) Is D.I.

Thursday about?

He's with the sawbones.

This morning's stakeout got a bit lively.

He's all right, though?

He's still standing.

Is this yours?

Oh, yes, I couldn't see a desk.

No.

Well, I'll let you get settled in.

♪ ♪ Light duties?

BOX: Couple of weeks.

There's no shame in it.

I'm fine.

I'm sure.

But better safe.

Any word?

Bastards got away.

But don't worry.

I'll have 'em.

They're owed.

(elevator dings) (grunts, bangs machine) (gasps) Sir.

I hear there's been some excitement.

Yeah, just a bit of rough and tumble.

Only upstairs has stuck me on light duties.

You?

Car crash.

Supposedly.

But it looks more like a murder-suicide.

If you've nothing on... Well...

I could help you out, I suppose.

If you wanted.

I mean, I'd need to clear it.

THURSDAY: Looks like the driver did for the girl before doing himself.

We just need to put a name to her.

BOX: Fair enough.

Just don't overdo it.

Office all right?

We didn't have space up here, but to be honest, I wasn't expecting you.

Friends in high places, eh?

Hardly.

Well, somebody pulled strings at Division, or you'd still be counting cabbages out in the sticks.

Look, I didn't ask for a transfer.

I don't know why I'm here any more than you do.

But I can tell you one thing, there's no one at Division's going to be doing me any favors.

THURSDAY: If you're ready, then, Morse?

Hello, Joanie.

What's all this, then?

Hello, Jim.

Criminal damage.

(quietly): Flora Humbolt.

Burnt down a Guides' hut.

Nice girl.

Hoping to avoid a custodial.

Get you with all the lingo.

(chuckles) We nick 'em, you see 'em back out on the streets.

What is it, trouble at home?

(whispering): Her mother says it's to do with a boy, but I'm not so sure.

Some of 'em are just born under a bad sign.

All the welfare in the world won't save 'em.

Maybe.

But 13's a bit young to be written off, don't you think?

And what about you?

What are you on?

Oh-- just a bit of this and that.

Good luck with your girl, anyway.

Mind how you go.

(footsteps retreating) The car's a cut and shut.

Two write-offs welded together.

Looks the part, but no structural integrity.

A collision, and the thing just disintegrates.

Log book?

Worthy of Nevil Shute.

Which is no surprise, seeing as he bought it from the Winsome Welshmen.

Dudley and Dunstan.

Weren't they a front for Eddie Nero?

One of many.

He did a moonlight when he went west, so you won't get any change there.

Be glad of a motor from the pool if there's one going spare, Mac.

All spoken for, Fred.

What about number nine?

♪ ♪ What's wrong with it?

Nothing, it's just had its day, is all.

We've got it down for scrap and spares.

I've got a nondy coming in for an oil change, give me half an hour?

MAN (on radio): Hard to imagine the thoughts that will be passing through the minds of Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins as they say goodbye to the Earth and venture out into the vast... ♪ ♪ (flames crackling) (items clanging) (bag hits ground) ♪ ♪ MAX: I've drawn blood from both of them and asked the lab to make it a priority.

But I would expect them to report a fairly high level of intoxication, if stomach contents are anything to go by.

Always a pleasure, Doctor.

What, for both of them?

His-- otherwise empty.

Hers, final meal of pineapple, sausages, and cheese.

Ingested within two hours of her decease.

Which was when?

Between midnight and 3:00.

Anything as to cause with her?

Single blunt trauma to the parietal, leading to subdural hematoma, increased pressure on the brain stem, and arrivederci, Roma.

What about her personal effects?

No money, purse, keys?

Nothing like that?

MAX: No, just what's there.

The dress and the shoes.

That was his, on his left wrist.

Don't suppose you've got a name for her yet?

THURSDAY: What we're about.

Post-mortem photo wouldn't go amiss in that regard.

Ah, thought that might be the case.

All my own work.

Mind how you go.

MAX: Inspector.

Morse.

(birds chirping) No next of kin, according to the bursar.

Drake was an only child.

Mother died when he was young, father about two years ago.

Anything here?

Nothing.

Cheese and pineapple.

We had that at our silver wedding, on sticks.

A party, do you think?

Cocktail sausages?

Heavy drinking?

With this Humbolt character, maybe that's where Drake got the car.

Hmm.

Anything on him yet?

They're colleagues, said the bursar.

Over at the observatory.

"How to Live a Happier Life."

Maybe he never finished it.

♪ ♪ GABRIEL (on tape): Each of us can have anything we want.

Anything in the world.

But so often we deny ourselves because we don't think we deserve it.

THURSDAY: How is it Professor Drake was driving your car, Dr. Humbolt?

His wouldn't start, apparently.

He found me in the garden and asked if he could borrow mine.

Then, presumably, the vehicle is still at your house, Dr. Wingqvist.

Yes, it's-- well, I expected a mechanic over to fix it this morning.

MORSE: There was a young woman found at the scene of the crash for whom we don't have a name.

I must warn you, it's a post-mortem photograph.

But can you confirm that this is who Professor Drake was with?

Yes, I believe that's her.

But I've a terrible memory for names...

Yes, alas, Adam's girls never really hung around long enough to make it worthwhile learning their names.

Bit of a ladies' man, was he?

ELLIOT: Making up for lost time, perhaps.

Most of us have a misspent youth.

Adam didn't really have a youth at all.

Mathematical child prodigy.

Entered Oxford at the age of 12, and was appointed Copernican chair at just 23.

How would you describe Professor Drake's temperament?

Quite highly strung.

Despite the appearance he gave on television, he could fly off the handle.

Violently?

He had a temper.

How did they seem with each other last night?

You weren't aware of any ill-feeling between them?

They didn't have words?

No.

Uh, no-- Larry, were you?

I can't say as I noticed anything.

ISOBEL (on tape): Everyone thinks I have the perfect life.

I suppose looking at it from the outside, I do.

Perfect marriage.

Perfect husband.

Perfect children, perfect house.

But every morning I wake up, I just want to scream.

I don't suppose that's the first of those, is it?

Or the last?

I wish it had been you.

So do I.

(birds chirping) MORSE: These are the keys Drake had on him.

(key rattling) Hm.

THURSDAY: Well, if they're not his, whose are they?

♪ ♪ MORSE: It's a pay slip.

Christine Chase, Heaviside Studios.

MRS. TRELLIS: Mrs. Wingqvist is upstairs.

Police, ma'am.

NATALIE: Thank you, Mrs. Trellis.

Oh-- the, the bath plughole is blocked again.

Hair, is it?

Um, I don't know what it is.

But if you could pick it out?

Thank you.

Natalie Wingqvist.

You... you spoke to my husband, I believe-- about Adam.

That's right, madam.

There was a young woman, also at the scene, that we're trying to identify.

Presumably, the girl that Drake was here with last night.

Christine Chase, would that be right?

Yes, I think that was it.

And how did they seem together?

Well, they kept to themselves pretty much.

I think she found us all rather dry.

Your husband said they left around 1:00.

Would that be right?

If that's what Elliot said.

I'm afraid I didn't see them go.

It was all very casual.

You know what parties are like.

People just slip away.

(chuckles softly) (tires squealing) JEFF: Hello, and I'm sorry to have kept you.

Jeff Slayton.

My sister, Hildy, the real brains of the business.

Reception said you were from the police.

THURSDAY: D.I.

Thursday, DS Morse.

Thames Valley.

We're here about Christine Chase.

I believe she works here.

HILDY: Chrissie?

Lovely girl.

Very bright.

She's my personal assistant.

But if you wanted to speak to her, I'm afraid she's not in today.

When did you see her last?

Ah, yesterday evening, around 6:30-- why?

Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but she's been killed.

What?

Oh, no-- how?

Her body was found at the scene of a car crash.

Oh... That's awful-- where?

MORSE: Out towards Edenbury.

The car was being driven by a Professor Drake.

Adam?

Yes.

Do you know him?

He's the scientific adviser on "Moon Rangers," our latest show.

It's a sort of "Bonanza" in space.

Is he all right?

I'm afraid he's also deceased.

(exhales shakily) MORSE: We'd like to speak to her colleagues, if that's possible.

COLONEL CRATER: Barbara's not only my daughter, Major, but she's also a renowned astrophysicist in her own right.

I warned her not to go, Colonel.

Now she's out there somewhere on the dark side, with only 30 minutes of oxygen left.

Don't blame yourself, Rock.

She was determined to get that space flu vaccine through to the miners at Station X-1-9.

(machinery humming) Sorry, everyone-- got our wires crossed.

JEFF: Cut.

(bell rings) If I might have your attention a moment, um...

I'm afraid I've got some terrible news.

Christine from the office and, um, Professor Drake... Adam.

(wavering): I, um...

There was a car accident last night.

They were both killed.

(gasps) MORSE (voiceover): And how would you describe Miss Chase?

ERIC: I didn't really know her, but Marilyn was quite close to Christine.

THURSDAY: That'd be Marilyn who, Mr. Gidby?

Oh, it's my wife.

She works with me on the gantry as a puppeteer.

What about Professor Drake?

Did you know him at all?

Oh, yes, he came by to watch some of the filming yesterday.

And what was he like?

Oh...

Very full of himself, as always.

This wasn't right, and that wasn't right.

Mostly, he was banging on about some course he'd been taking.

What sort of course?

ERIC: I couldn't say.

MORSE: You didn't care for him?

He was all right, I suppose.

But you always got the idea he was looking down his nose at you.

(sobbing): Such a shock.

ERIC: They were asking after Adam.

What was that course he was taking?

Something in Parktown, wasn't it?

And how would you describe Miss Chase?

(sniffling): She was nice.

MORSE: Mm-hmm.

Sweet, quite shy.

THURSDAY: Had she and Professor Drake been together long?

They'd been out a couple of times for drinks.

She was afraid of him.

I thought he was a bit of a show-off.

Being on the telly, I suppose.

He wouldn't miss a chance to make you feel small.

So, they leave this party-- park up somewhere, presumably.

She ends up dead, and he does for himself by crashing the car.

You'll be all right to let her parents know?

Let them know what, exactly?

We don't know what happened.

BOX: Only two people know what happened in that car, and they're both dead.

No point milking it.

MORSE: Well, we want to be sure, don't we?

For her sake-- and for his.

It's somebody's reputation that we're talking about.

It's about what you can prove, you know that.

Drake thought we'd take the crash at face value.

He didn't count on you.

BOX: First day back.

Well done.

Now go and have a pint.

THURSDAY (voiceover): Well, whatever Drake did, he's past justice now.

But whose are the car keys he had in his pocket?

If they're not his, not hers, then whose are they?

Car keys?

That's what you're sticking on?

Well, if it was my daughter lost in suspicious circumstances, I think I'd want more than an open verdict.

Wouldn't you?

It's the governor's call.

He's not my governor.

He is now, and you'd do well to remember it.

Right, I'm off.

Well, I'll pick you up in the morning.

No, don't worry about that.

Well, light duties, remember?

What did happen?

They had a pick handle-- I didn't.

I'll see you tomorrow.

(exhales) (telephone rings) Morse.

Home.

(drops keys in bowl) You going somewhere?

I'm out tonight.

Oh!

Yeah?

Shouldn't be late.

You had tea?

Bit of shepherd's pie.

Oh, smashing.

At work.

Oh, right.

I thought you could get yourself something from the chip shop.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'll probably do that.

Right, then.

Don't wait up.

MORSE: Mac?

(groaning) So, what is it that couldn't wait?

The brakes had been bled-- there's not a drop of fluid in them, or the reservoir.

And that couldn't have happened in the crash?

No, not a chance.

This was sabotage.

Right.

Somebody bled the brakes on the car that Drake was driving, which is why there were no skid marks at the site of the crash.

Yeah, it also means that Drake couldn't have pulled over to kill Christine Chase.

So she must have already been dead when he drove away from the party.

How'd she die again?

Head trauma, single blow.

Drake was driving Humbolt's car, wasn't he?

That's right, sir.

We're assuming whoever bled the brakes had it in for Mr. Humbolt.

BOX: He's rubbed somebody up the wrong way, you reckon?

Right.

I'll take it from here.

So much for open and shut.

Well, that was your assessment, not mine.

I said that we should get to the bottom of it.

Let's get one thing straight.

You go digging when I've told you not to, you'll be on the first bus out.

I thought we were here to get to the truth of what happened.

No, you're here to follow my orders.

If that's going to be difficult for you, I suggest you put in for a transfer.

Meantime... You're dismissed, sergeant.

♪ ♪ Cocky little bastard.

THURSDAY: He's a good officer.

He's a condescending little prig.

I'll take it from here.

LARRY: You don't mean somebody meant for it to happen.

You're not serious?

But I don't drive.

Not at the moment, anyway.

The car's in my name, but I was disqualified from driving for a year last September.

So, who drove your car to the Wingqvists?

(grunts, groans) Flora!

Your job to collect the balls.

How am I supposed to serve if I don't have a ball?

And don't scowl!

It makes you look very ugly.

And see if Matthew wants a drink.

Why don't you see?

You're his mother!

How dare you.

Do you see what I have to put up with?

LARRY: Darling!

Do you have a moment?

These gentlemen are from the police.

Hi, sweetheart.

Would you excuse us, please, Mrs. Wingqvist?

I might be able to help, mightn't I?

If it's about Adam.

THURSDAY: A list of guests from your party the other night will be helpful.

My guests?

Whatever for?

Because I'm asking.

We'll also like the make and model of their vehicles, together with the registration numbers.

(sighs): Um... do you think perhaps you could take Matthew and Flora for a walk?

Yes.

ISOBEL: Go on, go with Mrs. Wingqvist.

So, what is it?

We have reason to believe someone may have tampered with your vehicle, Mrs. Humbolt.

They think the crash that killed Adam and his girlfriend wasn't an accident.

What?

I don't believe it.

Your husband says there's no one he can think of wishes him harm, so I'm afraid we must put the same question to you.

Well, no.

The very thought of it, this is absurd.

Well, that raises another matter.

It means your vehicle was most likely interfered with outside the Wingqvists', while you were at this party.

What of it?

MORSE: We've held off making it public, but Christine Chase-- Professor Drake's date-- was already dead when the car crashed.

We'd assumed till now that Drake had parked somewhere and killed her after leaving the party, but if the brakes on the car were shot, she was already dead before she left the Wingqvists'.

I've never heard anything more grotesque.

It was an academics' wine and cheese, not "The Masque of the Red Death."

Really, I think we'd have noticed if Adam had been carting a dead girl around a party.

Did you see them leave?

ISOBEL: Well, no.

One minute they were there, the next they were gone.

THURSDAY: Well, whatever the case, I'd advise you to take extra care when you're going about your business.

If someone tried to cause you injury and failed, they may well try again.

Thank you.

If only Luna could speak, she could tell us what's happened to Barbara.

(whirring and grinding) What did that box of wires and lights say?

X1 says if we can beam our signal off the asteroid, we might be able to find Barbara's homing beacon.

Great Scott!

It's a billion-to-one shot, but it might just work!

(puppet drops) (under breath): Christ, Marilyn, watch what you're doing.

Sorry.

What're you two playing at?

Do you think this is easy?

You come up here and have a go!

All right.

Take five, everyone.

(bell rings) Listen-- I know we're all on edge with what happened to Chrissie and Adam.

ERIC: Speak for yourself.

Ask me, it's good riddance to the snotty bastard.

Telling me my job.

Bloody expert.

Do you want to know why we're this far behind schedule?

Too many chiefs.

Take after take.

It's okay, maybe he went too far sometimes, but... Jeff, he made me feel this big.

In front of the whole crew-- and you let him.

Where was he when we did "Bendy"?

All right, but Hilda's got a point.

You know Marilyn was fond of Chrissie.

If it's on her mind... Let's break for an early tea, and just try and get this in the can?

Hmm?

(cup clinking) (paper shifting) List of people who attended the Wingqvists' party.

Get 'em logged in.

Governor's rated you exhibits officer.

And if I were you, I'd keep my head down.

You're not his blue-eyed boy right now.

But she hasn't given the registration numbers or details of any of her guests' vehicles.

So?

So, we've a set of car keys found in Adam Drake's pocket and no idea whose car they belong to.

Someone'll claim them when they miss them, won't they?

Anyway, you can give them a ring around, can't you?

♪ ♪ (footsteps approaching) (knocks) Hello, sir.

Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

I'd like to speak to somebody about the professor Adam Drake.

I believe he was an attendee at some course run here, Mr.... Gabriel Van Horne.

What is it you do here, Mr. Van Horne?

We help people.

Help them with what?

Themselves, mostly.

(softly): Ah.

(people screaming) Hello?

I'm sorry-- you can't just wander about the place.

Hello?

(screaming and sobbing) All right, all right... Harmony, take it down to level two.

Would you mind?

HARMONY: Bring it down.

Bring it down.

What's all that about?

It's nothing to be alarmed about.

Shall we?

What do you want?

Straight answers, quickly given.

I was speaking philosophically.

Here at the institute, we help people to see the world as it really is.

An individual cannot realize their true potential while still adhering to an illusory narrative.

Now as a, a policeman, you'll agree that most social interactions are essentially dishonest, yes?

(moaning in background) Let us consider the cake paradox.

Let's not.

You asked what we do here.

It may help you understand.

You're having tea with a friend.

Unlikely, but go on.

There are two cakes left on the plate.

There's a large one of a kind you very much like, and there's a small, dry-looking one.

Which one do you choose?

The small one.

But that's not the point.

It's the whole point.

You deny yourself to what end?

We teach people to ask for what they want.

You teach people to be selfish.

To be honest.

To cast off regressive behaviors and harmful emotional patterns imprinted since birth.

Guilt, shame.

Is that's what all the screaming and the crying was about?

We call it catharsis therapy.

And Adam Drake took your course.

Is that right?

He was undergoing treatment.

What does it cost, this... treatment?

(inhales): What price freedom?

♪ ♪ (engine starts) (car drives off) "But why, you may ask, "should anybody want to go to the moon?

"That I will tell you.

"The reason is that behind the moon, "there lies the most wonderful, beautiful, never-to-be-forgotten garden the mind can think of."

LARRY (shouting in other room): I never wanted any of it.

ISOBEL (shouting): What about me?

What about what I wanted?

LARRY: What you want?

When has it ever been about any bloody thing else?

They're just playing a game.

Come on.

Snuggle down.

(argument continues) Curtains open or closed?

Open.

(door slams) Who was that?

I don't know.

Butterfly kisses?

Good night.

Sweet dreams.

I love you.

They won't leave us, will they?

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (gun fires) (thudding) ♪ ♪ (brakes squeak) (engine stops) Don't mind me.

I'm just keeping an eye on the shop, ahead of Box.

Mr.

Box, or the DCI.

He's not turned in yet-- we've left word.

Well, I've got the ball rolling.

Started taking particulars off the staff.

Deceased is one Eric Charles Gidby.

THURSDAY: Yeah.

It's all right, we know him.

We had business here earlier this week on another matter.

MAX: Single shot to the head.

Star-shaped contact burns around the entry site.

Suicide?

MAX: Nothing to say otherwise.

Some time between 10:00 and 2:00 last night.

Who found the body?

We wrapped at 6:00.

I left for home about 7:00.

Did anyone have access to the building?

Well, Hildy and me, of course, but apart from that... Eric had his own set of keys.

He often stayed on, working on this or that bit of kit.

We will need an account from everyone as to their movements.

Well, he's killed himself, hasn't he?

You can't think anyone here would have done anything to him.

Jeff... Eric was my oldest friend; we were in REME together.

We have to be thorough, sir, for his sake as much as anybody else.

I caught up on yesterday's rushes till about 8:00, then went home and spent a quiet evening.

Anyone vouch for you, sir?

(sighs): I live by myself.

And your own movements, Mrs. Slayton?

A solitary supper, and then I took Jacqueline Susanne to bed.

I see.

And where might we reach Miss Susanne?

Oh, um, I think Miss Slayton is referring to a novel written by the popular authoress of that name.

How'd Mr. Gidby seemed lately in himself?

JEFF: Better.

I mean, since Marilyn, he's a changed man.

At least, I thought he was.

Better?

How's that?

Eric lost Patricia, his first wife, three years ago.

A hit and run in Wallingford.

They were devoted to one another.

He took it very badly.

Go on, Hilds.

It can't matter now.

He tried before.

To take his life.

Pills and drink.

Jeff found him.

Got him in somewhere discreet.

Paid for it all.

He'd have done the same for me.

And did he keep a firearm, do you know?

Well, I didn't give it much of a look, but I'd imagine it's one of ours.

There's a few in the prop store we've acquired over the years.

Miniature weapons tend not to look convincing in the puppets' hands.

We'll usually shoot a live close-up with somebody holding one of our pieces and cut that in.

But we only keep blank ammunition here.

Mrs. Gidby's arrived, sir.

Right.

MARILYN: About 8:30, he said he had something to do and wouldn't be long.

I didn't notice until I woke up and realized he'd not been back.

Did he say where he was going?

If he was meeting anyone?

No.

THURSDAY: Was he much given to leaving you alone of an evening without saying where he was going?

When the black dog was on him.

MORSE: And when would be the last time?

Wednesday night, after the moon launch.

Eric had some business to talk with Jeff about an upcoming episode, so Hildy-- Miss Slayton-- drove me home.

How long had you been married?

Two years.

After his first wife died.

We met at St. Martin's.

He was my tutor.

THURSDAY: All was well between you and your husband, Mrs. Gidby?

He had his dark days.

I loved him.

But it's not easy stepping into a dead woman's shoes.

I think, if the police had found who killed her-- that's what he couldn't let go.

How do you mean?

MARILYN: We would be out sometimes, and he'd see a car like the one that ran her off the road-- or think he had.

He thought he saw it last week at the studios, and it sent him into a spin.

Excuse me.

♪ ♪ I understand there's a dead body.

We're just taking particulars, sir.

Basic movements.

The who, what, why, where, and when of it.

You're on light duties.

I can lift a pencil.

(chuckles) I thought we'd got things straight.

It came in.

Suspicious death on Banbury's ground, but too big for them to deal.

What was I supposed to do?

Fetch me.

I left word.

You were in transit.

Well, I'm here now.

So you'd better talk me through it.

(car door closes) Is this Gidby's?

Been here overnight, according to the watchman who patrols the estate.

Saw it on his rounds about 11:00.

Took it someone was working late.

Anything?

Few little cigarillos in the ashtray, but no note.

Do you mind if I take a look?

You're exhibits officer.

It's an exhibit, isn't it?

I don't need my work double-checking, thank you very much.

(key turning in lock) (trying door) (sighs) You've settled back in all right, then?

Oh, yeah.

They've got me in a basement room.

Not even a window.

You're in the game.

That's what counts.

Is it?

Right-- Banbury can finish up with statements and forensics.

We're going back into town, see if we can keep this attempted with Humbolt ticking over.

Why, do you think this is a coincidence?

JAGO: Don't you?

Jeff Slayton's personal assistant is murdered, his scientific adviser dies in a car crash intended for someone else, and not 48 hours later, one of his puppeteers is found dead.

I would say they were connected.

To your way of thinking, maybe.

Suicide, isn't it?

JAGO: It's textbook.

Maybe, but we should at least run a gun residue test on the members of staff.

Give the impression we know what we're doing or that we give a damn.

Morse...

BOX: Oh, I get it.

I wondered how long you could keep it buttoned.

Come to show us how it's done, have you?

Say there is more to it.

Nine times out of ten, these things are the spouse.

This isn't robbery.

You can't just find the first likely prospect and fit them up for it.

Come again?

THURSDAY: No, no.

He didn't mean it.

You didn't mean that how it came out, did you?

He spoke out of turn.

Heat of the moment.

Fred.

A word.

Not lost the old charm, then.

You'll never learn, will you?

How's he seem?

The old man.

Working out all right under Box, is it?

Well, ask him yourself.

I tell you I ran into Joanie again?

Up at the Magistrates with some young arsonist.

Well, boys will be boys.

Yeah, you'd think so, wouldn't you.

Not in this case.

Young girl.

Teenager.

Flora Humbolt.

Aye-aye, look sharp, here comes trouble.

Sergeants.

Miss Frazil.

I'll, uh...

So?

What's the story?

Well, there isn't one.

Yet.

They don't roll you boys out because someone choked on a fishbone.

Anything to do with the Adam Drake car crash?

They said you were on that.

Did they?

Maybe they should keep their collective mouths shut.

Drake was something to do with Slayton's latest marionette extravaganza, wasn't he?

It's under investigation.

As a separate inquiry.

For now.

Any suspicious circumstances?

Welcome home, by the way.

Home?

Back to town.

Back to square one, more like.

I'm living in a section house, working with people who'd sooner I was somewhere else.

It's like I'm going in circles.

So, why did you come back?

(sighs) All I hear-- Jim Strange is poking around this spate of heroin deaths.

Eddie Nero's game, wasn't it?

Nero's dead.

George Fancy, too.

I didn't know better, I'd say you had unfinished business.

♪ ♪ (switch flipping, reel winding) GABRIEL (on tape): What's the worst thing you've ever done?

ELLIOT (on tape): The worst thing I've ever done?

You're asking me that now?

(balls clacking) I'm not in the mood for this.

GABRIEL (on tape): You're not going to break through if you're not prepared to be absolutely honest.

Look, before you say anything, just answer me this.

What about the car keys we found in Adam Drake's pocket?

What about them?

Well, whose are they?

Why has nobody come forward to collect them?

What if Eric Gidby's suicide is actually something else?

(exasperated): Like what?

Like something which explains what happened to Adam Drake and to the one person that we all seems to have forgotten about in all this: Christine Chase.

That's who it's about?

Who else?

I don't know.

Are you doing it for her or are you doing it for you?

What does that mean?

What you said to Box at the start of all this about reputation.

I'm just wondering if you meant Drake's or yours.

(disbelieving): Is that what you think?

I think you've been tucked away in the bowels of the nick and maybe you're looking to prove a point.

The only thing that I'm trying to prove is who's behind all this.

Now, maybe that doesn't matter much to you anymore, but it does still matter to me.

(birds chirping) (knocking) MATTHEW (laughing): Flora!

Look at me!

I can bounce really high.

Do you think I can bounce as high as the moon?

Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

You're the policeman.

From the other day.

Yes, that's right.

Morse.

My parents are out.

Oh, well, actually, Miss Humbolt, it was you I came to see.

Is it about court?

What I did?

No.

No, no.

I just wondered to ask you if your father had ever mentioned Heaviside Studios?

Where they make the puppet films?

That's right.

Adam invited us there.

Last half-term.

Adam Drake?

Me and Matthew.

We could've perfectly taken the bus, but Mother insisted on driving us there, of course.

Why "of course"?

Because it's her all over.

Anything to do with the television.

Starstruck.

Whenever Adam was on, we'd have to watch it.

She'd tell everyone Daddy had been his tutor.

And what did you make of it?

It's a bit young for me, but Matthew's mad on all of that.

And everyone was very nice.

A lady gave him some of the toys because Adam's quite important there.

I mean-- he was.

Did you see much of him?

Adam?

He'd be at the house sometimes.

Un ami de la maison-- I think that's the phrase.

It's what Mother called him, anyway.

And did you like him?

No?

Why?

I don't know.

You just get that feeling sometimes, don't you?

I don't think he was a kind person.

Right.

You're taking your life, aren't you?

Interviewing a child who's got nothing to do with the case goes a bit beyond the remit of an exhibits officer.

I was curious.

You'll be curious when the DCI has your gut.

Oh, bugger!

Bloody carpet tiles.

Every time I touch the door handle or press for the lift.

What's wrong with lino?

It's how things are.

Funny.

There's a compere spot going down the legion, but I wouldn't hold your breath.

I had a word with the governor about running a paraffin test on the staff.

Just to be on the safe side.

Strange has drawn the short straw.

All staff in the studios handle the guns.

Decent cover for someone with a motive.

The wife, maybe?

If she was planning on killing her husband.

But what that's got to do with nobbling Humbolt's car?

Mrs. Humbolt drove the children to the studio during half-term-- on Professor Drake's invitation.

He was a Punch and Judy man.

Who?

Slayton.

It's where he started out.

I used to like the Punch and Judy.

Clacton Bank Holiday with Charlie and Billy.

Call them professors, don't they?

The blokes that do the act?

Yes, yes, I believe so.

(sighs) Maybe the DCI's right.

Just a coincidence that Drake links them.

(blinds rattling) (sighing): I can't do these things.

Can you do these things?

I could work the ones in my old office.

I know.

Sod it!

I'm going home.

Let me take you.

No, you're all right.

I'm not much company.

You mind your step.

You've had a bit of luck getting back into C.I.D., but luck can turn.

Trust me.

(knocking) BRIGHT: Come in.

Hello, sir.

Morse.

I'm not keeping you, am I?

No, no.

Just going through the quarterly figures for fixed penalty offenses ahead of a pow-wow with ACC Bottoms tomorrow at, at division.

But no, no, please, come in.

What can I do for you?

Well, I'm looking to locate any information Traffic may have on a fatal road accident in Wallingford about three years ago.

Lady's name was Patricia Gidby.

It was a hit and run-- unsolved.

Wallingford-- well, that would have fallen under Berkshire, of course, before the merger.

Gidby, you say?

That's right, sir.

Patricia.

Something to do with the Drake inquiry?

Possibly, sir.

Very well.

(pen scribbling) There we are.

See what we can do.

Thank you, sir.

You, um... you're settling in all right, are you?

Things are not what they were, hmm?

For any of us.

(sighs) Perhaps at the time, one... one doesn't always appreciate one's good fortune.

But I'm sure Inspector Thursday will be very pleased to have you back.

As indeed-- albeit at one remove-- am I.

Well.

Well, thank you, sir.

(chuckles) (retreating footsteps) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ GABRIEL (on tape): Now, I can't help you if you're not prepared to be completely honest.

Tell the truth.

And you drive the vehicle AC 427, is that right?

And the registration is?

Right.

Thank you.

Aye-aye, matey.

So this is where they've got you, is it?

Be it ever so humble.

Results from the swab tests.

Thought I'd run 'em by you before the upstairs.

You being exhibits officer and all.

Anything?

Four of them tested positive for having fired a weapon in the last few days.

Slayton, his sister, and both Mr. and Mrs. Gidby.

Right.

Huh.

What's this I hear about heroin deaths?

Where'd you hear that?

Around.

Just something I'm looking into for the Forward Planning Steering Committee.

Sort of roving brief.

Budgetary.

Allocation of resources between departments.

Right, well... it's a nasty business, drugs.

Dangerous, too.

As George Fancy found out to his cost.

I hope you're a more convincing liar when it matters.

Your life may depend on it.

I'll be seeing you.

Matthew says a policeman came round.

Yes.

What did he want?

Flora?

He just wanted to talk.

About what?

Nothing much.

This and that.

What did you tell him?

(screaming): What did you tell him?

(huffs) ♪ ♪ (doorbell rings) Oh, Mrs. Trellis.

DS Morse, Thames Valley.

I was here the other day.

Aye, I remember you.

She's not in.

Right.

Do they just have the one car?

Yes.

She can't drive.

Have you been with them long?

Couple of years.

Nice to work for?

It's not my place to say.

But if it were?

If I wasn't Bible-raised, I might lay my tongue to all sorts for her.

And him?

A right Hosea.

Do they have a gardener?

Oh, yes.

Had he just been, the last time we came by?

It's just that there was a bonfire at the bottom of the garden, and I'm curious what they could have been burning at this time of year.

(birds chirping) ♪ ♪ It's the handle from a handbag or a purse.

I'm curious how it ended up in a bonfire.

I found a bag, the morning after.

I knew it wasn't Mrs. Wingqvist's.

Too young for her.

She said it belonged to one of the guests.

Where did you find it?

Under one of the beds.

Upstairs.

You find all sorts.

Quite the tidying job, I expect.

Usually.

But not this time.

No.

It's usually like the last days of Sodom after one of their dos, but I came around Thursday morning and there wasn't a stick out of place.

And are they much given to parties?

Every third Wednesday.

Rain or shine.

♪ ♪ Those have been there since after the party.

No one's claimed them.

♪ ♪ (key turning) THURSDAY (voiceover): Why would Christine Chase leave her bag behind?

I don't think she did.

Not voluntarily, at least.

But if something happened to her at the party, someone would have known.

What if they all knew but didn't say anything for fear of the damage it would do to their reputations?

I've checked the list of guests-- seven couples, seven cars.

None of which correspond to the keys we found in Drake's pocket.

There was another car.

So, who's Mrs. Wingqvist keeping quiet about?

LARRY (voiceover): I never wanted it.

To be frank, it turned my stomach.

You see, I love my wife.

She's enough for me.

All I've ever wanted.

It was Natalie put the idea in her head.

Oh... Isobel was bored.

It's no big deal, everyone's doing it.

It's honest, unlike an affair.

(indistinct chatter) I love your earrings.

Are they Biba?

(chuckling) Just, um, let it all hang out.

(Natalie chuckling) THURSDAY: Christine Chase thought she was coming to your house on a date with Adam Drake.

But, of course, that's not what was going on at all, was it?

There's no law against it.

MORSE: Why did you burn Christine Chase's handbag?

Did something happen at your party that you couldn't afford anyone to know about?

I don't know what you mean.

THURSDAY: Adam Drake didn't leave your house in his own car-- not because there was anything wrong with it, but because he couldn't find his keys.

I think they couldn't be found because someone else had them.

Who took Adam's keys from the fruit bowl?

Is it the one person you've left off the list?

LARRY (voiceover): We'd taken the children over to Christchurch Meadows.

I was pointing out the constellations to the kids, the same way my father had got me interested.

This perfect cloudless night.

That's when Isobel first broached it.

Said it might put something back into the marriage.

Something modern.

I was afraid to lose her, so I went along with it.

But Adam-- my former student, for God's sake.

If it had just been the physical, I might have worn it, but... Isobel became obsessed with him.

It was love.

Fulfilment.

Do you think for a moment I could have hurt Adam?

I was going to leave Larry for him.

We were going to go away together.

And was Drake serious about her?

Who knew with Adam?

He expected her to leave Larry.

He'd lately got rid of the woman he was involved with and he wanted her to follow suit.

Who was that?

I don't know.

Whoever she was, it was just a bit of sport, Adam said.

But she'd been playing up.

LARRY (voiceover): The girl I was with-- I couldn't go through with it.

We were in the garden, then she left.

I had a swim, tried to clear my head.

I didn't do anything to Christine.

MORSE: Well, somebody did.

Whose keys did Drake take?

Who are you all trying to protect?

(key turning) (knocking) THURSDAY (offscreen): All right, Mr. Van Horne.

Perhaps you'd like to explain how Adam Drake came to be found with your car keys on his body.

We've spoken to the Wingqvists, and the Humbolts.

We know you attended a party there on Wednesday night.

What happened with Christine Chase?

She change her mind?

And who said I was with her?

(indistinct chatter, laughter) (keys jingling) (crowd "oh"ing, laughter) THURSDAY (voiceover): You picked out Adam Drake's car keys.

According to the rules of the house, that means you're entitled to sleep with whatever girl he'd brought with him.

(indistinct chatter, laughter) She said she was feeling a bit woozy, went off to get a drink of water, and when she didn't come back, I went looking for her.

She must have hit her head.

THURSDAY: Nobody heard anything?

I suppose they were all...

Otherwise engaged.

So why didn't you call an ambulance?

She was dead.

There was nothing anyone could have done.

So, you scarpered and left everyone else to clear up your mess.

She was Adam's date.

Mm-hmm?

So I called a cab.

Because you didn't want to explain why you were leaving in such a hurry, and unluckily for you, Drake had pulled your keys from the fruit bowl.

THURSDAY: All right Mr. Van Horn, you're under arrest on suspicion of manslaughter.

Well, somebody has been busy.

Bit beyond the call for an exhibits officer.

This it, or you got any more little surprises for me?

Just using his initiative, sir.

So, she dies in a fall, and Van Horne leaves the mess for them to sort out.

They're in so deep with his Single Way mumbo-jumbo that they cover it up.

Must be more to it than that.

Van Horne's got something on them.

Not necessarily.

"Girl dies in Oxford orgy."

Hard for reputations to survive that kind of headline-- let alone academic careers.

So, where are they?

THURSDAY: The Humbolts and the Wingqvists have been bailed.

What was Drake meant to do with Christine Chase's body?

Take her back to her flat and leave her there.

Except Van Horne's gone off with Drake's car keys, which means he has to borrow Humbolt's car.

MORSE: Mm-hmm.

Then who fixed the brakes?

Just in from information room, sir.

Young girl's gone missing.

Flora Humbolt.

Her little brother's gone, too.

Looks like she's taken him with her.

THURSDAY: "Please don't try and find us.

"You won't have to worry about us anymore."

She wouldn't do anything, would she, to herself or the boy?

She wouldn't hurt Matthew.

What would you know?

We have talked to her, Mrs. Humbolt-- at some length.

Talked to her?!

You want to try living with her?

You have no idea.

I'm her mother, she's not stable.

I'd have to concur with welfare, Mrs. Humbolt.

When I saw Flora yesterday, she seemed perfectly fine.

Oh, yes.

You're probably what's caused this.

The police!

All right, Mrs. Humbolt, I think what we need to do now is have a list of the places that she used to go to.

Is this why you came asking after her?

Well, sometimes you've got to throw a stone in the pool.

Stir the silt.

And-and never mind who gets hurt?

They're children.

If something happens...

They've not been taken by anyone.

They're not in any danger.

It's not the first time a child's run away from home.

We'll circulate some photographs and a description.

They can't have got far.

We will find them.

You'd better.

MAN (on radio): Thames Valley Constabulary has asked the public to be on the lookout for two children missing in the Oxford area.

Flora... (radio clicks off) I've just got off the phone.

With what happened to Eric... Dinky's on a knife edge.

If they pull out of the licensing deal...

I'm going home.

Can you close up?

(door squeaks open) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Well, the map book in Eric Gidby's car was open to Edenbury.

There's oil on the page, and on a torch in the door.

There's a toolbox in the boot and a jam jar filled with brake fluid.

You think he interfered with Humbolt's motor?

He'd have had the know how.

But not the motive.

Well, actually, Eric Gidby's first wife, Patricia, was killed in a hit-and-run.

So?

So, Larry Humbolt's car-- the car that Adam Drake was driving-- is an exact match, make and model.

And it's the only one of its kind currently in Oxfordshire.

The registered owner of the vehicle at the time of his wife's accident was indeed Larry Humbolt.

I thought Humbolt had only had the car a year.

MORSE: He has.

But Humbolt's car is a cut and shut-- which is two cars welded together.

The back end of the vehicle is the car that killed Patricia Gidby.

I think the dealers offered to file the change of ownership, but did so fraudulently, making it look as if Larry Humbolt had always been the owner of that vehicle.

BOX: It was the previous owner of the vehicle that killed Gidby's wife.

How would he know what car Humbolt owned?

Because Adam Drake invited the Humbolt children to the studio, and their mother drove them there.

Gidby cut the brakes in revenge for his wife's death and then killed himself.

BOX: So who really owned the car at the time of the accident?

Well, unknown associate of Eddie Nero.

Address in South Oxford.

Great, I'll let the ACC know I've cracked it.

Me and Alan will pick him up.

Put Van Horne to bed.

Get anything useful over there booked into evidence.

Fred...

I know, light duties.

BOX: No.

Talk to Dr. Humbolt.

I want chapter and verse on who filed the reg.

THURSDAY: They also serve.

How things are.

(birds chirping) ♪ ♪ (drawer sliding open) ♪ ♪ ENDEAVOUR (voiceover): Did you see them leave?

ISOBEL (voiceover): Well, no, we didn't.

One minute they were there and the next they were gone.

♪ ♪ (drawer opening, items rattling) (tapes shuffling) (birds chirping) DRAKE (on tape): Well, I've told her.

GABRIEL (on tape): And?

DRAKE (on tape): Made a scene.

GABRIEL (on tape): It's not like she can do anything about it.

DRAKE (on tape): I don't know so much.

I wouldn't put anything past that one.

Hell hath no fury.

(phone ringing) (engine starting) (tires screeching) Afternoon, Dr. Humbolt.

One or two questions about the purchase of your car.

Sorry, I've just got back from the solicitors.

I thought you were Isobel with the kids.

How's that, sir?

Isobel left a note.

You called, didn't you?

The police called about ten minutes ago and said they'd been found.

She went to collect them.

From where?

ENDEAVOUR (on radio): I got it wrong.

It wasn't Eric Gidby who drained the brakes on Humbolt's car; somebody's trying to frame him.

But Isobel Humbolt's on her way over to Heaviside now.

Hello?

Hello?

HILDY: Mrs. Humbolt.

(gasps) We met when you brought your children here at half-term.

Where are they?

Why in God's name would the police bring them here?

I'm quite sure they wouldn't.

But they telephoned me.

No, that was me, Mrs. Humbolt.

May I call you Isobel?

I feel as if I know you.

Hildegard Slayton.

Hildy.

Perhaps he mentioned me.

Who mentioned you?

Adam.

What?

I didn't mind about Christine and the other young ones.

Well, of course, I minded, but...

I knew they were just nothing.

But you, you were different.

I don't understand.

I'm the other woman.

The other other woman.

The one that meant something to him, until you came along.

You're who he left?

He would never say who it was.

Really?

He told me all about you.

Every sordid little soiree.

I'm not listening to this.

I've used this before.

And mean to again-- but you will hear what I have to say first.

(pistol firing) (screams) Or I will shoot you where you stand.

(horrified): Please, I didn't know.

You knew someone was being cast aside, you just didn't know who.

Adam didn't love you.

He was doing it to get at your husband, and once he got bored of that, he was going to drop you.

That's not true.

Oh, every word.

He told me.

He hated you, both of you.

But you most of all, you stupid, venal bitch.

(quivering) DRAKE (on tape): I hate her.

(gasps) DRAKE (on tape): It was just a bit of fun, you know?

And she had to go and turn it into some big thing.

(laughs) You want to know the truth about Hildy?

She makes my flesh crawl.

(laughs) He was good at everything.

Even cruelty.

You don't deny it, then?

Your affair with Adam Drake?

I would have screamed it from the rooftops.

Hilds.

It's not true?

Why?

Because I've always been the sensible one?

Level-headed Hildy.

Boring and a bit bossy, but devoted to the company.

While you dreamed of space rockets, I took care of business... And you always have.

That clapped out old Austin Seven.

You kept ticking over, so you never missed a booking.

That's how you knew your way 'round a motor.

You cut the brakes on Isobel Humbolt's car.

But you couldn't have known that instead of Isobel Humbolt driving, it would be the man you loved.

MORSE: Eric Gidby told you that he'd seen the car that killed his wife.

The same car Isobel Humbolt was driving when she visited the studios.

So you killed him and made it look like a suicide.

(pistol firing, body thudding) (wavering): She took my happiness.

THURSDAY: Put the gun down.

(sobbing) How did she know the kids were missing?

Her brother said they heard the appeal go out on the wireless.

It's my name on the charge sheet.

Just so we're clear.

He knows what he's doing.

Do you, though?

(engine revving) Still in the game, then?

We need to talk.

About George.

Not here.

Not now.

That's that, then?

No.

(knocking) Have you found them?

Not yet.

But I think I know where they're going to be.

And when.

MATTHEW: That one?

FLORA: That's Ursa Major.

The Great Bear.

And that one?

You know that one.

Orion.

Are the spacemen really up there now?

MORSE: Flora.

JOAN: There you are.

MATTHEW: Where are you going?

Just here.

See how many stars you can count.

JOAN: I've been worried about you.

Am I in trouble?

No.

No.

FLORA: Are they?

I knew something bad was going to happen.

I thought grown-ups were meant to be grown up.

They are.

Usually.

FLORA: But not her.

She's so involved in her own adult mess-- I don't know what they've done, but please don't split us up.

Matty needs me.

No one's even talking about that.

I promise you.

How did you know?

I don't know.

I just did.

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Yeah?

I've been reading.

According to Cherokee myths, there was a race called the Moon-Eyed People.

JOAN: Let's get your stuff.

They called them that because they didn't see well in daylight.

Their eyes were more suited to the night.

Maybe you're one of them.

Hmm.

MORSE: You okay?

Come on.

Let's get you into the warmth.

(distant bell tolling) Car's outside.

(exhales) So, where will they go now?

(sighing): A period in care, most probably.

We're staying together.

Yes, you'll stay together.

Miss, Flora says that we might get a new mummy and daddy.

Can't we come and live with you?

With me?

MATTHEW: Will you be our new mummy and daddy?

They're not married.

They're just friends.

Really?

Come on then.

Let's see about getting you settled.

Thank you.

(exhales deeply) ♪ ♪ MAN (on television): Destination moon.

A lunar landing.

And for Neil Armstrong, one small step... NEIL ARMSTRONG (on television): Lights on.

Three feet down.

Two and a half...

Picking up some dust.

Four forward.

Four forward.

Drifting to the right a little.

Contact light.

Okay, engines stop.

(equipment beeps) Tranquility Base here.

The Eagle has landed.

Okay, I'm going to step off the LM now.

That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.

♪ ♪ (click) CUMMING: Next time on "Masterpiece Mystery!"...

Here!

(woman screams) Who will be head of the company now?

We're not suspects, for God's sake.

MORSE: I don't think that we've heard the last of it.

MAN: These always come with one of them in.

Calling card, you might say.

I'm not a gold digger.

MAN: You're not going in.

He's armed.

(gunshot) CUMMING: "Endeavour," next time on "Masterpiece Mystery!"

♪ ♪ Go to the "Masterpiece" website, watch full episodes, listen to our podcast, and more.

To order this program on Blu-Ray or DVD, visit ShopPBS.org.

Also available on Amazon Prime Video.

♪ ♪