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.
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