♪ ♪ THURSDAY: Two murders on the same stretch of towpath.

♪ ♪ You don't think we could have got it wrong, do you?

This is the sixth freak accident I've attended in as many months.

I saw the man who did it-- it was a vision.

MORSE: You're obsessing about the wrong man.

You've got to let it drop.

Who do you think you're talking to?

Can I see you?

I don't think so.

Affairs with married women, it's not my scene.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) ("The Four Seasons" by Vivaldi playing) ("The Four Seasons" continues) ("The Four Seasons" continues) MAGDALENA (voiceover): Admit men into our women's college?

You would invite the wolf inside the citadel?

We cannot underestimate this.

The barbarian is at the gate.

Within this college, we are safe, we are free.

Beyond the pale, we are neither of these things.

We are prey.

("The Four Seasons" continues) MAX: Broken neck.

There are wounds adjacent to the jugular.

Bruising at the trauma site suggests the attacker sucked or attempted to suck her blood.

Still think we got him?

MORSE (voiceover): It doesn't mean that... THURSDAY (voiceover): It means maybe you're not so smart as you like to give out.

We have a passerby heard someone whistling along the towpath last night.

"Antonio," would that be?

♪ Oh, oh, Antonio, he's gone away.

♪ STRANGE: That's right.

Why?

(metal clatters) STRANGE: In here!

THURSDAY: Carl Sturgis, I'm arresting you for the murder of Bridget Mulcahy.

CORONER (voiceover): Examination of the ladder upon which he stood shows that it was old and in poor repair.

There are no suspicious circumstances pertaining.

And accordingly, I record a verdict of death by misadventure.

♪ Ave ♪ ♪ Maria ♪ ♪ Gratia ♪ ♪ Plena ♪ ♪ Maria ♪ ♪ Gratia plena... ♪ MAGDALENA: It's not helpful to reopen the debate.

NANCY: They're just requesting that we speak to the student body.

I just don't understand why they're asking us again.

Of the nearly 40 colleges in Oxford, only five are open to women.

Five!

And yet, the faculty are once again entertaining the idea that Lady Matilda's should open its doors to men.

I say, no.

No, no.

Maggie.

No.

I'm sorry, Warden.

This is a place of women, and its precincts should remain inviolate.

It's just a straw poll, Mags, of the student body.

Advisory at best.

Advisory?

Well, this is my advice: drop the idea.

Because I promise you I will fight any attempt to make this college coeducational.

I will fight it to my last breath.

♪ Ave Maria ♪ ♪ ♪ There were grounds to believe that the person responsible for the murder at Corax House also killed the barmaid Molly Andrews on the towpath at New Year, as both women were known to that individual.

It was the flasher threw us off the scent.

Tony Jakobssen had his throat cut.

Completely different M.O.

Of course, it's now clear that Jakobssen was got rid of because he'd strayed onto the killer's hunting ground.

It's all very well, the Yard picking over our work with the benefit of hindsight.

Important thing is Carl Sturgis is on remand at Farnleigh Prison awaiting trial.

He can do no further harm.

That's what matters.

We got him in the end.

We'd have got him a deal sooner if we'd been listened to.

Morse meant well, of course, and his record speaks for itself.

I'm not suggesting any repercussions for him.

Not for a moment, no, but... we invested too much faith in his abilities.

Backed his instincts too wholeheartedly.

We gave him his head.

Overindulged him.

He was wrong.

SANDRA: And it was a week before he was due to walk me down the aisle.

The past year, it's all he talked about.

(sighs) It was no one's fault-- that's what the inquest said-- but I can't help but blame myself.

How's that?

Money.

We've never been well off, but he did want to make it nice.

The wedding.

He was working all the hours.

Sold his big car for something smaller.

He even cashed in a couple of life policies he had.

He was alone when the accident happened, is that right?

Yeah.

The pulley went on the block and tackle.

Dad had been saying it needed replacing, but... just never got around to it.

These, uh, freak accidents of yours, I've taken a look.

There's nothing there as far as I can see.

No grounds for opening an investigation, leastways.

Really?

None of the deceased were known to each other and there's nothing that links them.

Well, I'd like to keep at it.

Not really our place to go looking for work, is it?

Not when there's real cases going begging.

Well, I think these are real cases.

Then we'll have to disagree.

We all make mistakes sometimes, get things wrong.

Even you.

Is that right?

No shame in it.

Just makes us be double sure of a thing next time.

How did you know about the song, "Antonio"?

How did you know that's what the passerby would have heard?

Because that's what I heard when I followed Sturgis.

That's what he was whistling?

That's what I heard.

That's not the same thing.

I lost sight of him and I heard the whistling.

So, it could have been someone else.

No, it couldn't.

We have four people can stand him alibi the night his girlfriend was killed.

Four people can put him at that New Year's Eve party until the early hours of the morning.

They said they did.

Not to mention the taxi driver that dropped him off and picked him out of a lineup.

It's past debate now.

Is it?

Then how could he be in two places at once?

It was him.

Why?

Because you say so?

That's right.

Well, what about evidence?

What about Molly Andrews's crucifix, for example?

We've turned his place upside down and we couldn't find a thing.

Not a thing.

It's Sturgis.

He's been charged and there's an end of it.

Well, I hope you're right.

Really, I do.

But I think a jury are gonna want more than your gut when it comes to court.

And I'm not wrong.

These freak accidents?

They are connected.

♪ ♪ ♪ Make believe you loved me, darling ♪ ♪ Make believe you cared ♪ ♪ Make believe you need me... ♪ (door opens) Ah.

About time.

♪ You're there ♪ ♪ Make believe my heart's not broken ♪ ♪ Make believe it's true ♪ ♪ Make believe you love me one day... ♪ (laughs softly) I don't think I'll ever quite get used to this place.

It's not as if I can come to your house.

He might drop by.

Five months-- she should be back soon, shouldn't she?

Your friend?

New Year sometime.

What does she do again?

She's a dancer.

Where?

Some discotheque in Beirut.

Why?

Does it matter?

(laughs): No, I don't suppose so.

"Come in, number 23.

Your time is up."

Mm.

What's that?

Oh, nothing.

It's just something they say on the boating lake when you've had your hour.

You know how it works.

(sighs) Ludo and I might be away.

Did I say?

For Christmas.

Cortina d'Ampezzo.

Skiing.

Nice.

It won't always be this way.

Well, we will have to tell him, sooner or later.

The longer it goes on...

It would kill him.

We're all adults.

These things happen.

It's nobody's fault.

It's funny.

I think it's you he'd mind losing.

Far more than me.

(laughs) (kissing) ♪ ♪ (door closes) ♪ ♪ (birds squawking in distance) ♪ ♪ (distant bird squawking) (phone ringing) WIN: I'm sure you'll have made plans of your own, but you're very welcome to have Christmas lunch here with us.

Oh, you're here, are you?

I didn't hear you come in.

Joan should be home.

Thursday.

And we're hoping that, uh, Sam might get leave.

When?

You know, it's nothing extravagant, Where?

but it's just enough food for everybody.

And the children get out a game or two, for after the queen and... Fred has a doze in front of the big film.

Right.

We've got to go.

I haven't done your sandwiches.

They'll have to keep.

Mrs. Thursday.

There's been another one along the towpath.

(door opens) Sir.

Morse.

Cyclist found her about an hour and half ago.

Undergrad from Lady Matilda's, looks to be.

Name of Petra Cornwell.

19.

Her digs are a quarter mile up the towpath.

Anything from witnesses, passersby?

Nobody's come forward as yet.

Nobody heard the, the whistling or...?

As I say, it's too early.

Doctor?

Time of death between eight to 12 hours.

At first glance, cause of death would appear to be asphyxia by means of manual strangulation.

Not like the last one, then?

Well... No blood.

No blood-drinking.

That's something, isn't it?

I mean, that, that's something?

Let's not.

How's that?

Let's not what?

Oh, it doesn't matter.

No, no.

Let's not what?

Well, let's not clutch at straws to save our blushes.

Three women, one man.

It's the same killer for all.

Whoever killed Molly Andrews killed this young woman.

Oh, yeah?

You'd like that to be true, wouldn't you?

Show me up, "The old man's losing his touch"-- that it?

What...

I didn't, I didn't say that.

You don't need to.

But before you get all high and mighty, let's not forget you had all this down for Naomi Kane's killer.

Yes, I know.

But if we're being honest about it, it comes to something like this, you've never really had that much touch to lose, have you?

Morse... Well, it's true.

This is what I get, is it?

I've stuck my neck out for you more than you know.

Yes, of course you have.

Who wouldn't?

I mean, bank robberies, car thieves, yeah, there's no one better.

But something that demands a little bit of intellect, or a little bit of finesse, then...

Arrogant, conceited... Gentlemen!

You will conduct yourselves with decorum and the solemnity appropriate to this situation, or you will find some other place to stand!

You want to carry on like that, you find yourself another pathologist.

Am I understood?

Max, I'm sorry I... Am I understood?

Then we shall say 2:00.

STRANGE: That's the face we want to show the world now, is it?

Washing out our dirty smalls in front of respected friends and colleagues?

God almighty, what's the matter with you?

Well...

I hope you're both pleased with yourselves.

I'll put in for a transfer soon as this is over.

Banbury or Kidlington.

I think we've taken it as far as we can, you and I. Yeah, I think that's about right, for the best.

You said McNutt is at Kidlington.

Maybe you could put in a good word for me?

Oh, my word's good enough for that, then?

You want to be on your way, don't stay on my account.

I'm not, I'm staying for her.

And for the rest of them.

But don't worry, soon as this is over, I'll be gone.

Fair enough.

I'll get a patrol car back to the nick, report to Mr.

Bright.

You can talk to her college, right?

(exhales) Dr. Byrne.

Yes?

I'm Detective Sergeant Morse, Thames Valley.

I have it from the admissions officer that you are tutor to a Petra Cornwell.

I am.

What?

What is it?

I am sorry.

Are you?

Then why can't you stop it?

Well, we try.

Well, try harder.

These are your friends doing this.

Your brothers, fathers.

She was just lovely.

Beautiful and... clever.

And kind, just... Just lovely.

I...

I don't know what to say.

Maggie?

Love, what's wrong?

Hey.

What's going on?

It's the police.

There's...

I'm sorry, I can't say it.

It's all right.

I'm afraid an undergrad has been found on the towpath, beneath Port Meadow Bridge.

It's Petra.

Petra Cornwell?

Wait a minute, I thought you'd caught the Towpath Killer?

He's in prison, isn't he?

Four victims across the last 11 months.

The first, Molly Andrews, was found here on New Year's Eve.

The second, whom we now believe to have been killed because he was queering the Towpath Killer's pitch, was Tony Jakobssen, a cook from the Working Men's Club.

Third was Bridge Mulcahy at the end of June.

She was killed here, on the way home from her boyfriend's.

So far, she's the only one with this blood-drinking business.

Now we've got this undergraduate from Lady Matilda's, Petra Cornwell.

No blood business there?

THURSDAY: No, sir.

Untouched, in that regard.

WOMAN: No way.

(indistinct chatter) MORSE: She lived in digs.

Yes.

With two other girls, I think.

What's this?

The faculty has decided to hold a referendum.

Whether Lady Matilda's should admit men to college.

Will it pass?

Over my dead body.

I'm sorry, that was a dreadful choice of words.

I will need to speak to her flatmates.

Of course.

Did she have any enemies?

Any that you know of?

She was a pretty, 19-year-old woman with a happy disposition, and not a malicious thought in her head.

Does that invite enemies?

MAGDALENA: It certainly invites attention, of a kind that isn't necessarily welcome.

Sorry, how's that?

Petra made a formal complaint last month, about a fellow at Corax House.

It's a scientific department, it's attached to Cardinal College...

Yes, I know it.

What was the nature of the complaint?

And about whom?

I was just helping her down from a ladder.

She said you grabbed her breast and made a lewd comment.

It's just a misunderstanding.

She had big knockers, you know, proper Hindenburgs.

Anyway, she spun around on this ladder, and one of those things collided with my hand, and all I said was, so as not to embarrass her, I just made light of it; I said, "Well, you don't get many of those for the pound, do you, love?"

And that didn't improve the situation?

Oh, did it buggery?

It was a joke, man.

Only she didn't see the funny side, did she?

And made a mountain out of a molehill.

But what do you expect?

These bloody Matildabeests.

Stuff they fill their heads with these days.

Card carrying members of the comfy shoe brigade, that's what they are.

And where were you last night, for the record?

Well, I wasn't on the towpath giving Petra Cornwell what for, I can tell you that.

It's awful what happened to her.

Truly.

I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, but... nothing to do with me.

Sir?

Sturgis's lawyers have called for the case to be dismissed, and for his immediate release.

Neither Division nor the Crown will oppose the request.

(chuckles sardonically) Today... of all days.

Sir?

(inhales) My wife returns from the United States.

Any news on how the treatment went, sir?

Well, it was experimental, but, uh... we're hopeful.

It is him, sir.

That's not how Division sees it.

We have to face the facts, Thursday.

We got it wrong.

Desperately, hideously so.

We got it wrong, and the Towpath Killer remains at large.

I've lost my job, my livelihood.

My name's been dragged through the mud.

The police knew I hadn't done it, but they went through with this whole charade.

Do you mean to take action against them?

I've spoken to my solicitor, Mr. Vholes, and he's advised me that I'm reserving my position.

And what makes me sick is that while they had me locked up in prison, the real Towpath Killer has been free to strike again, and that's unforgivable.

I just hope they catch him this time.

Thank you.

REPORTERS: Mr. Sturgis... (reporters shouting questions indistinctly) He's not wrong.

But you were.

The boyfriend of the first victim?

He always seemed too obvious to me.

Mm, and he had an alibi.

So I've been told.

Your freak accidents, it's a no go, I'm afraid.

People have accidents, people die.

What do you want me to say?

I don't know, that I'm not going mad.

That there's something to my story.

That you haven't given up.

Have you?

Given up?

I don't think you're going mad.

Well, that's a relief.

Because I think I've found more.

So I started to wonder if it was something just happening here in Oxford, or if there was something further afield.

And?

And I turned up nearly a dozen fatal accidents in Dover and Uttoxeter in the past year.

Off your patch, I thought it might be worth a look.

This is Oxford, though.

I was at the inquest.

A Mr. and Mrs. Jones.

They'd only had the balcony painted a week or two before.

MORSE: Did anybody see him fall?

The wife.

She was crossing to the car, just below, he came out onto the balcony to wave her off.

It gave way.

Insurance found the bolts had rusted through.

They had no reason to think it wasn't an accident?

Well, I can't imagine they'd have paid out otherwise.

Oh, why?

Did she get much?

He left her looked after, but it'd be a different story if it had been her who fell.

How's that?

Their son had got into debt, so she sold her life policy without telling her husband.

Right.

And if she'd gone off the balcony, then Mr. Jones wouldn't have earned a thing.

Not a sous.

Right.

♪ ♪ (dog barking, children playing nearby) (knocking) (door handle slowly turning) Miss Tate?

I wondered if, uh, I might talk to you for a moment?

(latch opening) I went to the Working Men's Club, they said you were no longer there.

I couldn't.

Not after everything.

You were very brave.

No.

I'm bad luck.

No, I'm sure that's not the case.

I wondered if I might have a word with you.

Yeah.

(shuts door) I just wanted to ask you about what happened with Molly Andrews on the towpath at New Year.

You didn't see anything... No.

...with Tony?

No.

I said.

I just want to put all that behind me.

What about the second girl?

Bridget Mulcahy.

Did you see anything?

Anything at all?

I just... just want to be left alone.

Please.

Another girl was killed on the towpath last night.

Did you see something?

There's nothing I can tell you.

All right.

Okay.

I'm sorry to have troubled you.

What's in there?

Nothing.

Nothing.

Please don't.

Don't go in there, please.

Please don't.

It's all right.

It's all right.

(breathing heavily) What is it?

Is that what you see?

I thought if I could get it out... out of my head, it would stop.

But it hasn't.

And what's the tin foil for?

To keep it trapped.

"It"?

Him.

(shuddering) Who is he?

He comes when I'm not looking.

I can smell him first.

Like a... burning smell.

Then I'll catch him out of the corner of my eye.

But if you turn too quick, he disappears.

I know he's not there.

He can't be.

But he must be, mustn't he, if I can see him?

What, can you see him now?

(whimpers) Miss Tate, there's nobody there.

(loud roar, Jenny cries out) It's all right.

It's okay.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

There's nobody there.

(whimpers) There's nobody there.

(exhales sharply) There's no one there.

(shudders) I'm really concerned about your well-being.

I don't think you should be here alone.

Is there anybody I could call?

A family member or... No, no, no.

No, there's nobody.

Please don't tell anyone about this.

I don't want doctors.

They've put me away before, and I know what those places are like.

Please.

(whistling bird call) (bird chirps) There, now.

There.

(cat mewls) Get out if it before you get my toe up your arse.

Getcha!

(alarmed cry) (bird chirping) All right, all right.

It's all right.

We grew up in a big pub.

Huge.

On the corner of the street; four floors.

On Sundays, in the afternoons after closing, Cousin Kevin would have us all play hide and seek.

Only "I Like Necks" he called it.

'Cause if he got you, he'd hold you down and pin a big fat, wet raspberry on your neck.

Making out it was all a big joke and a game.

I don't think it was, altogether, a game.

Not to him.

He'd count to a hundred, and we'd all run off and find somewhere to hide.

I hid in my aunt's wardrobe once, and it was all fur coats and that.

Stoles you call them?

Ones made out to look like foxes or some other animal.

Their paws hanging down.

Glass eyes and wire.

There was this handbag smell, stale.

Perfume and lipstick and old sweets mixed up with mints and cigarettes.

Hello?

Let me out.

JENNY (voiceover): Somebody must have shut the door and turned the key because...

I couldn't... And I screamed and screamed and screamed till I was gasping.

(inhales) I must have inhaled a feather or some fur 'cause...

I sucked it in gasping and I... (shuddered breath) ...couldn't breathe.

Next thing I... ...wake up in my bed, and it's gone tea time.

I can hear them in the bar downstairs opening up.

Must have fainted.

Or had one of my turns that I have.

Where is he now?

Kevin?

Dead.

They all died.

There was a fire.

I was the only one to get out.

A fireman found me, but... everyone else died.

(door closes) There.

There now.

Oh... Oh, I'm happy to be home.

I have missed you, Puli, so much.

And I you, my dear.

And I you.

Was it very bloody?

Desperately.

But Dr. Schneider says the indications are good.

The X-rays show shrinkage in both lungs.

He's hopeful the treatment may have triggered some kind of remission.

That's wonderful news, my dear.

Just... just wonderful.

(both laugh) (cheerful melody playing on TV) (music stops) (indistinct voices on TV) (TV chatter continues) Fred...

I warned her.

That's the thing of it, I warned her.

Warned who?

Bridget.

A day or two before it happened, I was down the towpath she was gonna meet her boyfriend...

I got talking to her.

Told her she shouldn't be walking on her own down there.

Should have stuck to my guns from the off.

Well, why didn't you?

People thought different.

What people?

(opera music playing) LUDO (voiceover): Sorry, I should have called.

Not at all, not at all.

Is everything all right?

Yes.

Do you have something to drink?

Of course.

Wine or...

Whiskey, if you've got it.

Yes.

What's all this?

Oh, um, that's work.

Looks very gruesome.

Catalog of bizarre accidents?

MORSE: Well, maybe.

Maybe not.

If they're not accidents, then we have something very sinister on our hands.

So, what is it?

What's wrong?

Oh... (sighs) You're my friend, aren't you?

I mean, I like to think so.

I need your help.

Advice.

About what?

My wife.

It's mad, I know, but she's... these past few months...

I think she's seeing someone; someone else.

♪ ♪ What gives you reason to think that?

She's been...

I don't know.

(flicks lighter) Since we got back from Monte, something's changed.

(opera music continues) But you were in Antibes over the summer.

How was that?

Twin beds.

She says I snore.

I don't snore.

Well, have you spoken to her about it?

(sighs): I'm afraid.

What does one say?

Well, I'm afraid I'm...

I'm the last person you should ask about this.

(awkward chuckle) I'm sure it'll be all right.

Give her some time to think about things.

You know, give her some space.

Yes.

Yes, perhaps you're right.

Thank you.

You're a good friend, Morse.

♪ ♪ (car door closes) (engine starts) TEACHER: Carry on, girls.

A few more laps.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ STRANGE: Aye-aye.

Looks like I might've gotten you out on a wild goose chase, mate.

Accident.

Right, Doc?

Looks that way.

She's come up the library ladder for something, to the top of the bookcase, She's reached for whatever she's reached for.

The ladder slipped... (woman cries out) ...and she's fallen and struck her head on the bust.

Just a freak accident?

I noticed the brake on the casters appeared somewhat unreliable.

Time of death?

About midnight.

And everything was just as you found it, was it?

Exactly as you found it?

Yeah.

Why?

MORSE: Does she have any family that we can inform?

JULIET: Both her parents are gone, and, uh, she was an only child, unmarried.

So I believe she made provision for her estate to come to the college.

MAGDALENA: There won't be much.

Her house is heavily mortgaged, and whatever insurance and savings she had went on the deposit.

How's that?

She redeemed a couple of policies-- life and annuity-- to make what she had to put down on the house.

Is there any news on Petra?

Oh, I'm afraid not.

Well, whoever he is, he's taken his last Matildabeest.

If you can't keep us safe, the village will defend itself.

Uh, I wouldn't advise taking matters into your own hands.

We'll do whatever we have to, but I swear, no more of us will die.

Morse!

What's all this?

There's, um, there's been an accident.

A-A fatal accident.

What are you doing here?

We have an appointment with the bursar to discuss a charity concert for Ludo's foundation.

Ah.

But perhaps this isn't the best time.

Sir.

Um, Detective Chief Inspector Thursday, this is Mr. and Mrs. Talenti.

Ludo, please.

Ludo?

That's right.

Like the game.

It's short for Ludovico, but yes, exactly that.

And what are they to do with here?

Uh, nothing, sir.

Mr. and Mrs. Talenti are just friends of mine.

They're here to see the bursar.

Well, if you'll excuse us.

Detective Chief Inspector, Morse.

It was lovely to meet you.

Madam.

Well?

An accident, apparently.

She fell from a ladder whilst reaching for a book.

So, where does "apparently" come in?

The lights were off.

Hard to look find a book in the dark, I'd have thought.

You think someone turned them off after she'd fallen?

No, I think it's one of Dorothea Frazil's freak accidents.

We've been through that.

There's nothing there.

Just as likely, whoever found the body or whichever uniform was first on scene, not that you'd get them to admit it, but it happens.

Well, it shouldn't.

Well, it does.

You can't build a case that someone's going round Oxford killing random strangers out of one light switch not being on.

Anything from the towpath?

No.

Matter of fact, I think we've probably got enough bodies on that.

I spoke to McNutt.

He's got a spot on his firm comes free after Christmas.

Wait.

You're taking me off the towpath case?

Yeah.

(laughs softly) Well, there we are.

Ah, well, you can't.

If you want to catch him, then you need me.

I need someone I can stand on.

I am a bagman, not a yes-man.

I'm here to keep you on the straight and narrow, and tell you when I think you're barking up the wrong tree.

That is my job.

Not anymore.

I'm appointing Siddle bagman.

You're off, I need to get someone else house-broken.

No time like the present.

Right.

♪ ♪ (indistinct pub chatter) "Misanthrope."

30 across, 11 letters.

"Like Scrooge, he rouses phantom's ire."

I was saving that.

No, you weren't.

You were stuck.

Anything more from the bundle I gave you?

(speaking indistinctly) Well, I've been going through Dover and Uttoxeter, but I've just come from Lady Matilda's.

I think we've got another one.

Dr. Nancy Deveen.

Fallen from a ladder.

(Dai laughs) That pub fire I called you about, did you get anything?

Uh, nothing that mentioned a Jenny Tate.

I did find a report from 1949.

The Wolf's Head at Watlington.

Three children-- two girls and a boy, orphans-- living with an aunt, an uncle, and a cousin.

What happened?

All killed, bar one of the little girls: Phyllis Linden.

Suspicion was that she had set the fire.

Charges were never brought, but she was found to be severely disturbed and... put away.

Yeah.

Well, she could've changed her name, I suppose.

Wouldn't you?

Anyway, it's all in there, everything I could find.

Now if you'll excuse me... Mm.

I'd better get over to Lady M's.

Keep me posted.

Right.

I will.

Thank you for this.

(birds chirping) ♪ ♪ (whistling "Molly Malone" in distance) (grunting, groaning) Come on!

Come on, ladies!

Murderer!

Bastard!

Don't let him get away!

(shouting) (horn honking) (tires screeching, loud thud) (engine idling) (engine stops) (closes door) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (exhales) BRIGHT (voiceover): Who is he?

Man called Clemens, sir.

David Clemens.

Works at the Morris plant.

Keep-fit fanatic.

Clemens.

Why does that name seem familiar?

He found the first body.

Or so he claims.

Molly Andrews, the barmaid.

His flat is a virtual museum to the crime.

Newspaper cuttings all over the place.

How is he?

In a coma.

(exhales) Are you all right?

Yes.

No.

I don't know.

It's all just, uh...

I was fine, and then... that whistle.

It must have been the last thing Petra heard.

♪ Now a ghost wheels her barrow... ♪ (humming) (exhales) It's horrible.

(crying) Well, we did it, matey.

I think "we" is stretching it.

Whoever did it, it's done.

"In Dublin's fair city."

That's what Clemens was whistling, according to Dr. Byrne.

"Molly Malone," not "Antonio."

Why do you think that is?

Oh, no, no, no.

Oh, no, you bloody don't.

If he was whistling something else, it's because he changed his tune.

Just go home and get some sleep, all right?

(phone ringing) Morse.

LUDO (on phone): It's Ludo.

I need your help.

Why?

What is it?

What's wrong?

LUDO (on phone): I've booked a table at Augusto's for 1:00 tomorrow.

I'll see you there.

Right.

Right... See you tomorrow.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I see you were on the George Fontayne case.

Boy went missing from Pierton in 1949.

Oh, yeah.

We did a review of it for County ten years on in '59.

Kidnapping, it was assumed, though no note ever came and the kid was never found.

Anyone suspect?

The usual.

Child molesters and the like.

We pulled them in again during the review, but it didn't go anywhere.

What do you think happened?

Somebody took him, most likely.

Or he drowned.

Lots of waterways round there.

And he liked to play out.

Canals and rivers were dragged at the time, but without success.

What's your interest?

Just something I'm looking at.

Thought you'd be down the pub with the rest.

Lukewarm draft and a handful of backside from the typing pool?

No thanks.

Let them enjoy themselves.

We got our man.

We didn't get him.

I don't think there's anything to celebrate.

But I'm sure they'll be rutting in the streets by daybreak.

They don't need any encouragement from me.

Maybe the way they let off steam is a bit loud, a bit vulgar, but at least you can tell they're alive.

You stand there and you look down your nose at everyone.

You're no better than any of them.

I didn't say that I was.

You don't have to.

It's the way you carry yourself.

Nobody's good enough.

No, there was one person.

But he lost his way.

You've leave outstanding.

Upstairs would like you to take it before you go.

You don't have to come back in.

You should've appointed Strange bagman.

Think I didn't ask?

(dog barking) ♪ ♪ (rustling) (humming) (electricity crackling) (roars) (screams) What a very smart man I married.

You look terribly dashing.

My dear, you were never lovelier.

Oh, I think I was.

Not to me.

And I should know.

Shall you be long?

Just trot up to Division, statement to the press.

Back in time for the 6:00 news and a lime juice and gin.

(chuckles) I'm very proud of you, Puli.

I thought I might buy a tree and get our Christmas decorations up.

I don't want you going up into the attic.

There's no need.

I had Robin do it for me.

Robin?

That nice young man with the faith healers.

He even tested the lights, and they're working.

Oh, well, if Robin thinks so.

Then I shall nip out to Richardson's and fetch you something special for your supper.

Now, you're not to go to any fuss on my account.

You've taken care of me so well this past year-- these past years.

You've always looked after me.

And I always shall.

♪ ♪ Good afternoon.

Thank you.

What is it, what's wrong?

Morse?

Darling?

LUDO: I ordered champagne.

I hope that's all right.

A toast, I think.

What shall we drink to, friendship?

Love?

Fidelity?

VIOLETTA: Ludo.

LUDO: Quite right.

How remiss of me.

Of course, we should drink to you.

A rose between two thorns.

My darling wife.

You're not drinking?

What's, um...?

What's going on?

There's no getting anything past you, is there?

I was visiting a friend at the Swedish embassy.

He had to take a meeting with the Minister of Meatballs or whatever it might be, so I thought, as I had time to kill, I would call you.

I wanted to thank you for your recent advice.

But I'm afraid I told a white lie.

Oh, yes?

I told the officer at Castle Gate that I was a Swedish policeman, who needed to speak to you as a matter of some urgency.

They gave me a number where I could reach you.

Only...

I was puzzled.

Because it was a number I recognized.

(phone ringing) Pronto, hello?

Who is this?

LUDO (voiceover): What was my wife doing at the end of a telephone number where I believed I could find you?

And at an address known to me.

What was it you said?

"I'm sure it'll be all right.

Just give her space."

So thoughtful.

Such concern.

What a friend.

What a pal.

We didn't mean to hurt you.

Oh, well, that's all right then.

I mean, if you'd meant it, that'd be different, but...

These things, they happen.

Not to me.

The heart decides.

Does it?

I am sorry.

No.

You're not.

He knows now.

It's over.

You can come with me.

It's finished.

♪ ♪ (inhales sharply) She's used to the finest, Morse.

A policeman...

Please.

I don't love you.

I don't feel anything for you.

I never did.

It was a mistake.

And there we are.

♪ ♪ It's for the best... my love.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Detective Chief Inspector Thursday, please.

Dorothea Frazil of the "Oxford Mail."

Fred?

It's Dorothea.

Look, um, if this has come through to you already, you know what I'm calling about.

If not...

I thought you'd want to hear it from me first.

(Dorothea speaking indistinctly) (indistinct chatter, laughter) Right.

Wonderful, marvelous spectacle!

The-the elephant covered in paint, my wife holding its tether, absolutely drenched from head to toe with water from its trunk, do you see.

THURSDAY: If I might speak to you a moment, sir.

Yes, of course.

In your office, perhaps?

Really?

Well, yes.

Yes.

Yes, of course, if you, uh, if you think that's best.

Excuse me.

Drink, hmm?

Why not?

You know, I always took a dim view of, uh, officers who took a drink during the working day, but the older I get, I can see it's a practice not without its-- It's your wife, sir.

Hmm?

Dorothea Frazil just telephoned my office.

There's been an accident.

What?

Your wife, sir.

Yes, I know my wife, Mrs.

Bright.

What, what?

What are you saying?

I'm very sorry, sir.

She seems to have been hanging Christmas decorations.

She, uh... ...looks to have taken a shock, sir.

An electric shock.

It's fatal, sir.

(stammers) But... No, you see, I-I was only with her at home, not an hour since-- there must be some sort...

I'm very sorry, sir.

No, she'll be at, at home.

You see, she'll...

I can soon straighten this out.

(picks up receiver) (phone dial cranking) (line ringing) It just takes her a while to get to the phone, you see.

Sir...

It's quite a way, from, uh, from one part of the house to the hall.

That's where we keep the, um... (line ringing) ...the instrument.

Of course she may have gone upstairs.

Yes, I'll, I'll call back.

Uh, that's it, I'll...

I'll call back.

I-I wouldn't want her to, uh...

Try again in a few moments.

She'll be there then.

She's not near the phone, you see.

That's... That's what it is.

(indistinct chatter) He's in a terrible state.

I'm not surprised.

What happened?

You've heard.

Some fault with the wiring, so far as we can make out.

Just a... What, a freak accident?

Don't start in with that nonsense again.

Have some respect.

It's not nonsense.

I've looked at it.

It's nothing-- there was nothing there.

There was only nothing there, because we didn't know the why of it.

I didn't know the why of it.

But now I do, at least I think I do.

You're not dragging Mrs.

Bright into it.

I'm telling you.

You want to run with this rubbish, do it on McNutt's meter.

You're done here, go home.

(exhales) (door slams) So?

What's the caper?

All right.

Let's say you have an insurance policy worth, I don't know, 10,000 pounds, which they'll pay to your nearest and dearest upon your decease.

Yeah, yeah, I've got one.

Well, you have to in this game, don't you?

Never know what's gonna happen.

Cover your funeral, what have you.

So you pay off your policy over so many weeks, over so many years, and then when you... Bingo, break out the best bitter and the ham sandwiches.

But let's say you wanted a smaller sum in a rush.

3,000 pounds, say.

What you've paid into the policy so far isn't gonna come near.

So my company comes along, gives you the 3,000 pounds, which is more than you'd get if you were to simply redeem the policy.

I give you the money, you give me the policy.

I continue paying the premiums.

And then when you die... You get the 10,000 pounds.

Yep.

Sounds harmless.

Well, it is if I'm willing to let you live out your three score and ten.

But what if I want a quicker return?

Let's say I buy for 3,000, and then a year later, I cash in for ten?

But you can't cash in.

Unless the original holder of the policy can be persuaded to die.

Or helped on their way.

Right, so what do we usually ask in these situations?

Who benefits?

Who gets the money?

Exactly, husband kills the wife, claims the insurance, or wife kills the husband.

But what if they're complete strangers?

They've had the barest of contact.

So someone's going around buying life insurance policies.

Mm-hmm.

And collecting on them by making sure the sellers die in what, to all intents and purposes, look like freak accidents.

Mm-hmm.

So who's behind it?

Well, I don't know, not yet.

How do you want to play it?

Well, I have to take a run out to Watlington on another matter, but I've a bundle of these case files in my car.

And it's been happening elsewhere-- there was a cluster in, um, in Leicester over the summer.

Want to split?

Yeah, what we're trying to establish is if the deceased has sold a life insurance policy.

Then we can work our way backwards.

(elevator bell chimes) I'll meet you at the end of the day, at a place called Aspen Park Drive.

It's the closest location of these freak accidents.

Oh, and Strange?

Thank you.

(distant dog barking) (brakes squeal, engine stops) (distant dog barking) MAN (voiceover): Oh, I remember Joe and Bess.

They had the tenancy of the Wolf just before me, uh... died in that terrible fire.

I did the odd stint behind the bar for 'em when I was young.

And what about the children that were here, orphans?

Ah, Bess's sister's kids, the Lindens?

Sweet they were.

The little girls, Phyllis and Doris.

I was never too keen on the boy, mind.

Johnny, would that be?

That's right.

Yeah, I didn't shed any tears over him.

Really?

How come?

Well, I don't know.

Some kids, don't know... (chuckles) You can't put your finger on it, but he had a nasty streak.

Did he?

In what way?

Cruel to animals.

Pets.

He blinded Joe's dog with lye.

Nobody could prove anything, but that was the talk.

I always thought it was the Sturgis side coming through.

Sturgis?

Their maternal grandfather.

Old Noah Sturgis.

Bargee.

About as nasty a piece of work as you could wish to meet and Johnny was every inch his grandson.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ Hello?

Anybody home?

Yes.

What do you think you're doing coming into my house?

Uh, the door was open.

So what?

Doesn't give you the right to go prowling round.

Who are you?

Mr. Sturgis, isn't it?

Detective Sergeant Strange, Thames Valley.

What do you want?

I'm clear of the towpath killings.

Hadn't you heard?

This is harassment.

I'm not here about that.

This is, uh, another matter.

I-I'd no thought to find you here.

You've, uh, moved, then?

This your place, is it?

I'm looking after it.

For who?

A family friend.

Kettle's on.

Can I offer you a drink?

Tea or...?

If you're having one.

I never drink tea.

Coffee man, are you?

After my own heart.

Milk and two, if there's one going.

Sure.

Won't be a minute.

So, what's this about?

There was a fella lived here.

Fell off the roof.

Freak accident.

We're, uh, looking into it.

Trying to trace any members of his family.

I don't know about that.

Funny that it should be you living here.

(distant thud) STRANGE: Just, uh, just you, is it?

(kettle whistling) On the premises?

Yeah.

Just me.

(whistling "Oh!

Oh!

Antonio!")

(whistling continues) (whistling continues) ♪ ♪ (door handle shakes) Here you go.

(door handle shakes) ♪ ♪ (door handle shakes) ♪ ♪ (distant thudding) (woman crying) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (shouts) It's all right.

It's all right.

You're safe now.

(brakes squeal) (sobbing) (tapping) ♪ ♪ (screams) (grunts) ♪ ♪ (Jenny sobbing) MORSE: Jim?

Jim!

Jim.

You all right?

Get after him.

Where is he?

Which way?

(muffled shout) STRANGE: It's all right, miss.

He'll get him.

(labored breathing) ♪ ♪ (whimpering) ♪ ♪ (woman crying in distance) (muffled shout) (loud grunt, both struggling) (blade sings) (strained grunting) (groans) (grunting) (growling) (Sturgis shouts) (car doors open, close) THURSDAY: How is he?

MEDIC: He'll come through, sir.

♪ ♪ THURSDAY: Doctor.

Don't do anything by halves, your boys, do they?

If a thing's worth doing.

I'd sooner he was alive.

Morse?

With the girl.

How is she?

Physically?

She's lost a little blood.

There are bite marks to her inner forearm, but, thankfully, he'd not much there to get his teeth into.

Mentally?

I don't think she had far to fall.

He said he was hungry.

I know.

But that's finished now.

The ambulance men will look after you.

A-A hospital?

I don't want to go to a hospital!

No.

No, no.

Come on.

It's not, it's not, it's not that kind of hospital.

He's gone.

It's done.

You're gonna be all right.

You found her.

Oh, Strange found her.

But you put him onto the place.

No.

It was blind luck.

What was Sturgis doing here?

The undertakers that he works for?

Duxbury's.

Mm.

The man who owns the place, man called Aspen, Duxbury's looked after the funeral arrangements.

I can only imagine he died intestate and the solicitors are trying to trace any living relatives.

So Sturgis found himself a cozy little bolt-hole.

Well, not so cozy.

(squawking) ♪ ♪ (chittering) (bird squawking) Remember those cats going missing from the start of the year?

Turning up disemboweled?

So that was him?

Then he moved on to people.

Molly Andrews, Tony Jakobssen, Bridget Mulcahy.

Yes?

Yeah.

It was him.

(bird squawking) (bird squawking) THURSDAY: That could be Molly's crucifix.

Yeah, it could be.

It's like she was the practice piece.

He got bolder with Tony, and more depraved with Bridget.

But he didn't kill them all.

Not the last one, not Petra.

So that fella in a coma in the hospital, the one that attacked Dr. Byrne?

Clemens.

A copycat?

Maybe finding Molly Andrews's body sparked something latent in him.

I don't know.

(bird squawking) (clicks tongue) (bird squawking) So, who was he, Carl Sturgis?

I think he was Jenny's brother, Johnny Linden.

Uh, there was a fire in the pub when they were children in which Johnny supposedly perished.

Jenny, or Phyllis, as she was then, got the blame.

But I think the real culprit was Johnny.

Why?

Well, they seem to have been tormented by their older cousin Kevin.

But to be honest, I think Johnny was already pretty damaged.

He seemed to have a taste for cruelty to animals, which I think graduated to other prey.

George Fontayne.

I think he killed him, then set the fire to the pub to cover his tracks.

THURSDAY (voiceover): And these, uh, visions Jenny had of what happened on the towpath?

How do they fit in?

MORSE (voiceover): I don't know.

Maybe she had a mental connection with her brother.

Hello, Phyl.

You don't remember me.

I'd know you anywhere.

I looked for you so long.

(whispers): Who are you?

Have I changed so much?

It's me, sis.

It's Johnny.

MORSE (voiceover): Maybe it was a way of manifesting bad memories.

She may have seen more than she realized as a little girl.

Yeah.

She may.

But it's all theory, isn't it?

Plus gut feeling and a hunch.

What was it brought you here?

You don't want to know.

Strange'll tell you.

When do you start at Kidlington?

New year.

Fourth of Jan. Like you said, it's for the best.

Siddle.

♪ ♪ (thunder rumbles) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ DOROTHEA (voiceover): The inquest into the death of Pippa Tetbury, age 23, of 15 Stamboul Lane, Witney, today recorded a verdict of misadventure.

The coroner reached the conclusion that somehow Miss Tetbury, a dancer lately returned from Beirut, had pulled down a wall-mounted... She should be back soon, shouldn't she, your friend?

New Year sometime.

MORSE (voiceover): What does she do again?

VIOLETTA: She's a dancer.

MORSE: Where?

VIOLETTA: Some discotheque in Beirut.

Why?

What does it matter?

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ MORSE (voiceover): "The sum of 2,500 pounds "was transferred today into your bank account, "being the full settlement hitherto agreed for the acquisition of your life policy."

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ I need to talk to you, sir.

About what?

Mrs.

Bright.

What about her?

It's about these freak accidents of Dorothea Frazil's.

Not that again.

I think I've got to the bottom of it.

I think it's to do with life insurance.

What?!

Oh, Morse.

Good heavens.

Sir.

We're losing you to Kidlington, I understand.

Yes, sir.

Uh, yes, sir.

Yes.

My... my deepest condolences, sir.

Yes.

Well, thank you.

Thank you very much.

That's tremendously... kind of you; I was only saying to DCI Thursday how awfully kind everyone's been.

I, uh... really didn't expect... Yeah...

I don't think it was an accident, sir.

What-what's this?

What-what-what wasn't an accident?

Nothing, sir.

Did your wife get rid of any of her financial... assets lately?

Specifically her life insurance.

Because if she did...

I fear whoever bought it from her may have had a hand in her death.

(stammers softly) What do you mean?

What-wha... What does he mean?

Thursday, do you know what he's talking about?

Not exactly, sir.

Morse.

I think she may have been killed.

I think she may have been murdered, sir.

(exhales) How dare you?

(scoffs softly) What is this?

How dare you?

You come... in here...

He's wrong, sir.

Of course he is.

Are you gone mad?

Why would you say such a cruel and wicked thing?

Because I believe it to be true, sir.

Get out.

Get out of my station.

You have no business here.

Go on, get out.

I don't want you here.

Murdered.

It was an accident.

Right.

An accident.

I never heard anything so grotesque-- Thursday, get him out!

Sir.

♪ ♪ (sighs) You have to be in the right, don't you?

Have to have the last word.

What's the matter with you?

You want to take a look at yourself.

I want to take a look at myself?

If you had your mind on the job and not on this flighty piece, you might not be in such a mess.

Sorry, what flighty piece?

I saw you together in the summer, parked down by the canal.

I ran the registration.

Car's in her husband's name: Talenti.

Well... you had no right to do that.

Maybe not.

But nor had you.

♪ ♪ (thunder rumbling) MORSE (voiceover): They come easy, don't they?

The lies, once they start.

VIOLETTA: I'm afraid.

I can't save you.

Then no one can.

♪ ♪ (bells chiming) Results are in.

The barbarian is denied the citadel.

(laughs) You kept them out, Maggie.

We kept them out.

But for how long?

One day at a time.

See you in the New Year.

(sighs) ♪ ♪ Why don't you call him?

Well... he'll be with his people, I expect.

(knocking) ♪ ♪ (door closes) Oh, good heavens.

This is a surprise.

Well, just thought I'd see how you were, sir.

Christmas and all.

Oh...

I've... never gone in for it much... myself.

Carrie did... Mrs.

Bright, but, um... You should have come to us, sir.

You'd have been more than welcome.

Yes, you did offer, and, uh... and it was very kind of you, but I-I couldn't... face people, I suppose.

Drink?

Please.

Yeah.

I, uh, went by Morse's.

Oh?

Doing your rounds?

How is he?

No reply.

Place in darkness.

Well, if you do see him... Well, you'll know what to say.

I wasn't at my best when I last saw him.

Understandable, sir.

Even so.

He's been very good with me, past five years, one way or another.

We didn't get off to the best of starts, but I like to think I've...

I've unbent somewhat.

He was right, you know.

We did redeem our life insurance policies, both of us, so we could afford the trip to America.

I won't have any of the rest of it, but, um... ...yeah, he was... he was right about that.

♪ ♪ What's this?

It's for our Joan.

Forwarded.

Well, I've opened them in case they're important.

It's from Morse.

There's a letter.

Go on, then.

"Dear Miss Thursday, "Contained herein are materials "that I ask you bring to the attention "of your father.

"All he needs to understand "is here enclosed.

"To my lasting regret, "we parted on poor terms.

(voice breaking): "The fault was mine entirely.

He has ever been..." I can't.

"He has ever been "the best and wisest of men, "and a better friend to me "than I could have wished for or deserved.

"I let him down.

"I'm sorry to presume THURSDAY and MORSE: "upon you, but I've burnt MORSE: "all my bridges, "and you are the last and only person I can think of "who might extend to me the benefit of the doubt.

"Please forgive my brevity.

"I have to make the boat train to Venice.

"There's never the time to say all that one would wish.

"As you will no doubt hear, "I have made an appalling mess of things.

"Much of it I can't put right, but I should have failed even further "were I not to try to retrieve "what I can from a situation wholly of my own making.

"Should I fall short, "and things end badly... "please believe me to have been... "yours, always...

Morse."

My father took me there when I was a girl.

And I go back every New Year's Eve to remember him.

VIOLETTA (voiceover): It is my pilgrimage.

Do you believe in sin?

MORSE: No.

VIOLETTA: Damnation?

MORSE: It's a bit late for that, isn't it?

(opera music playing) (opera music continues playing) (man singing in Italian) MORSE (whispering): Violetta?

(distant singing continues) What do you want?

What I want?

I want an explanation, Senora Talenti.

If, if that's even your real name.

I mean, I know that your presence wasn't required to stand up all of these freak accidents in every particular.

What do you want me to say?

I want you to say that you're sorry.

That's what I want you to say.

Of course I'm sorry.

I tried to tell you so many times.

I told you I was afraid.

You remember?

In the car, when you met me that first time alone in Oxford.

No, you didn't say that.

You didn't.

You said that you were scared of losing something good.

I was frightened to tell you the truth.

How could I?

The terrible things he made me do.

Oh, come on.

You don't understand.

Spare me.

I had to.

He would have killed me if I hadn't gone along with it.

Morse... No.

Don't, don't do that.

It's done.

That's finished, that's, that's over.

If it was ever even true to begin with.

Anyway, I'm here to take you both in.

It's Ludo you want.

I can give him to you.

And I will.

But if I do that, you have to give me 24 hours before you come after me.

If we ever meant anything to one another.

(distant bells tolling) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (woman singing opera in Italian) (opera continues) (opera continues) (opera continues) (opera continues) (opera continues) Well, well, what a pleasant surprise.

How was it to be, Morse?

Was she to betray me with a kiss?

"24 hours."

Wasn't that your squalid little bargain?

Her price for selling me out.

What have you done with her?

Oh, please.

Such drama.

Fear not.

She'll be along.

Wouldn't want her to miss the end.

This is the end.

I'm here to take you in.

Aren't you forgetting something?

We are beyond your jurisdiction.

Well, you can tell that to the Italian police while I'm organizing your extradition.

(chuckles) Tell them what, exactly?

About the people that you've killed.

I've killed no one.

My hands are innocent of blood.

Spotless.

Just like my conscience.

Buying the life insurance policies was my little wheeze, certainly.

But it was fate spun the wheel... with a little help from my glamorous assistant.

We all have our entrances and our exits, Morse.

Our parts to play.

Even you.

Why?

What was my part?

You were my useful idiot.

My pet policeman.

Enough!

Enough.

Do you want to see her alive again, or don't you?

♪ ♪ I gave them a chance, all of them.

If the glazier had maintained his pulley.

If Aspen had taken better care of his ladder.

And Mrs.

Bright?

As a matter of fact, I quite liked her.

MORSE (voiceover): You knew her?

LUDO (voiceover): Of course.

Had to be on the inside to gain access to their decorations.

Oh...

Thank you.

Rest.

LUDO (voiceover): It's 50-50, Morse.

Always.

(bell ringing) Oh-- they're closing the cemetery.

And there we are, right on cue.

♪ ♪ Violetta?

LUDO: You really don't have a clue, do you?

She's a fraud, Morse.

Every word she's ever told you was a lie.

When I found her, she was 15, living barefoot on the backstreets of Naples.

I've given her the world.

You don't even know her real name.

Ah!

Put the gun down, Morse.

On the floor.

Put it down.

You won't do it.

Once, perhaps, you would have been right.

You were meant to be my creature, not hers.

And then you went and spoiled it all, didn't you, my darling?

Ah!

Put the gun down!

Please.

All right.

All right.

(opera singer continues) Just let her go.

Ah!

Come on.

If we're going to get the last boat.

LUDO: I should have done for you in England, but she convinced me that a dead policeman wasn't in our best interests.

You said we were going to let him go.

It was just a warning, that was the promise.

That was the plan.

(opera singing continues) Plans change.

No!

(gasps) (gunshot) Violetta... (opera singer continues) I'm sorry...

I'm so sorry... Shh... (opera singing continues) Drop it.

(opera singer continues) (opera singer continues) (opera singer continues) (singing in Italian) I've done terrible things...

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

It was true...

Us...

Always.

Ti amo... (last breath) ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ (click) ♪ ♪ ANNOUNCER: Go to our website, listen to our podcast, watch video, and more.

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"Masterpiece" is available on PBS Passport and on Amazon Prime Video.

♪ ♪