If you are interested in the background episode of Morse that this references, it is series seven, episode two. Thanks for reading.
Lewis wandered around his desk and looked over James' shoulder, then frowned. "That's one for the history books."
"Mmmmm. You worked this case with Morse. What do you remember about it?" Hathaway asked distracted and sipped his coffee without looking up from the file.
Robbie blew his cheeks out and raised his eyebrows, "He was always a step ahead of us. Changed his appearance to such a degree that he could stand right in front of us and we never guessed. He was already injured when he came out of the house, threw off his weapon and demanded that he speak to Morse. He should have known better, but Morse stepped out of cover and stood there like a sitting duck. Barrie pulled a second gun on Morse at the end. Wearing a dress and ladies wig when he pulled the trigger. Thought I was watching Morse die at the time. He pulled the trigger and the chamber was empty. But then there was the sound of gunfire. Constable Curtis shot Barrie before he figured out the gun was empty. They called the ambulance, but he died during transport. What made you pull this file? "
Hathaway kept reading but mumbled, "Curiosity."
"Not our finest hour. We wasted our time protecting the wrong people while we chased red herrings and mostly our own tails. Don't think we ever really got to the bottom of it all. Devil worshipers and abusers and Christ I never saw the like," Robbie offered.
"Never got to the bottom of it? How so?" James looked up now, reading Robbie's reluctance.
Lewis shrugged and said after a sigh, "Oh I don't know. Morse swore there was more to it, but Strange wouldn't let him make any more trouble. There was a lot of media at the time. Everyone was pleased that Barrie was dead. Dr. Martin got a slap on the wrist and it all went away, for a while."
"For a while?" James prompted.
"It…well it's just silly. Just old rumors. Nothing concrete. It just got around the nick that the case was cursed. That everyone who touched it was visited by the devil. Some right away. Some much later." Robbie flopped in his chair and stuck his feet up on the desk and laced his hands together behind his head.
"Canon Appleton was known as the witch-hunter. He died the next year on Lammas day. It was natural causes, but it never explained why he'd drawn sigils all over himself in permanent marker, hours before he collapsed." Lewis said.
Hathaway snorted, "Witch hunter? A bit old-fashioned was he?"
"No. He was quite serious in his study of the matter but always carefully disputed the reality. Offered council to those who wanted to reform. Comforted the Trevors woman. Said if the devil was in Oxford, he'd be the last person to deny it when it would fill up the empty pews so easily. It was more of a hobby to him because of the…well, there was a following in Oxford, back then. Still might be." Lewis explained carefully.
"Not really? In a city of higher learning? Even Oxford toffs can't be that ridiculously senseless, " Hathaway scoffed with his best Cambridge snobbery in full blossom.
"The ones out prancing in the woods who watched Mr. Trevor burn to death might beg to differ. There were several Dons implicated. Only one ever admitted he was there that night. He swore they saw the real Satan and that he murdered Trevor with fire for betraying his disciple. Course his dark horned majesty used common petrol to do the deed. Never got to who was or was not there but these were all well respected men and the killer was dead. Doors closed every time we got close. Some say there is still a very tightly knit group of believers here. Who knows. Very next year, on the second anniversary, Holly Trevors was attacked and killed by some sort of animal. Thing was, there were never any reports of any other attacks and no packs of wild dogs found in the area. We found pieces of her."
Hathaway chews on his pen then sets the file down, "Okay, this bothers you, doesn't it? You know more, don't you?"
Lewis wipes his hand over his face, "I can't prove any of it. You have to understand that. Can't connect it. But it is connected. I know it. Everyone who worked on that case, had something bad happen. If it was just a few, I could just say it was bad luck. Just the normal tragedies of life. But it isn't. The next year, third anniversary, Nora Curtis, the one who shot Barrie and who had spent time with Dr. Martin got a bit of notoriety for bravery and a cushy new position down in London at NSY. She was killed in the line of duty within a few weeks of being promoted. Guess what day?"
"Were there others? A yearly event?" Hathaway looks horrified.
"That was the last of the anniversary deaths. But not the end of it. Every year there is someone. Mr. Willowbank took his own life three days after Canon Appleton died. PC Cobbs lost two children in a car crash. He was behind the wheel. Pringle, who was a Sergeant by the time it happened, lost his wife same year that I lost mine, also to a hit and run. There were four deaths by hit and run that year from the players club. Val was the last. We know the man responsible, but Val was seven blocks away from where DS Curtis was shot. London is a big place. Seems odd to me."
James frowned and commented, "That is highly suspect, isn't it?"
Robbie nodded then continued, " Morse and I talked about all these coincidences for years before he died, kept it just between us. But we never really stopped watching and waiting. Then he died. Heart and probably just his time, but there was something…odd…I don't know. I kept searching alone for a while. When I lost Val, I just didn't care anymore. Let the devil have Oxford." Robbie shrugged.
"And you sincerely believe in this curse, don't you, Robert?" Hathaway asked candidly.
Robbie met his eyes and held them as he whispered, "Aye. I can't say that I don't." He blushed at his admission.
"Must have taken you a very long time to believe in a curse. Not really your realm, there, curses?" James kept his face placid but it still conveyed astonishment.
"Didn't say I believed it was a curse, just don't have another name. Too many coincidental events and until I can explain it and find the real answer, curse is as good a name as any," Robbie stated suddenly dismissive and offended.
"You have more than is here, don't you?" James said pointing to the file.
Robbie sighed and nodded.
"May I see?" Hathaway asked confident the answer would be yes.
"Why?" Lewis demanded folding his arms.
"Maybe I could help? I am just interested," James said in confusion.
"Then, no."
Hathaway leaned back in his chair with amused ire on his face, "What do you mean, no? I thought you trusted me."
Robbie stood and his face was boiling with emotion. "Hard to trust a liar, Detective. I don't know what you are hiding, but I know that you are. So don't expect me to give over when you're playing games. Something put you on this and until I know what, you won't get another word from me."
James stood up horrified by these words, "Wait. Look, I can't tell you. Yet. I would, if I could."
Robbie smiled his poor innocent Geordie lad grin, "Feeling a bit off, me. Taking the afternoon. Enjoy your file."
I agree with the actors. I think Robbie and James need to argue more.