Endeavour2012

DI Fred Thursday:
[in a car with Morse, who's driving] What do you make to it? Mrs. Madison. Money?

DC Endeavour Morse:
With only a niece and nephew living, I'd expect they stand to inherit.

DI Fred Thursday:
What about your Mr. Nimmo?

DC Endeavour Morse:
No-one's seen him around his flat. But a neighbor said he had music blaring till all hours. Opera, by the sound of it. The entire lease of his lodgings is conducted through a solicitor. They're running down a cheque. Should be able to get a more reliable address from his bank.

DI Fred Thursday:
A weed, Dr. DeBryn said. Not likely to be something she'd have been cultivating, is it?

DC Endeavour Morse:
I wouldn't have thought so. There's something about the Datura I can't quite put my finger on.

DI Fred Thursday:
Well at least the Balfour case looks like it's going to run to form.

DC Endeavour Morse:
The builder? Has he confessed?

DI Fred Thursday:
Not yet. I'm letting him sweat for the minute. I'll have another go after lunch. Speaking of which...

[Thursday takes out his wrapped sandwiches]

DI Fred Thursday:
[interested] Now, let's see. What have I got to look forward to?

DC Endeavour Morse:
[as Thursday sniffs his sandwiches] Luncheon meat.

DI Fred Thursday:
[slightly annoyed] Remind me never to spend Christmas at your house.