Now, whatever your biological inclinations, I hope you watch this opening scene and the one or two scenes that follow shortly because you won't see much of Mel Martin during the bulk of the program. I've absorbed enough of the programs' configuration to know that this is liable to turn out to be important, if you get my drift.
Best performance by a male: Philip McGough, than whom no one looks more suspicious -- short, blocky, shifty, a serviceable villain in all regards. He's always looking out of the corner of his squinting eyes. Unfortunately he's not around much either.
Most engaging scene: The murder victim, a man strangled in a parking lot, was a womanizer and a client of a high-end hooker who is a real knock out. I mean, this babe has genuine class. She speaks like a duchess, grooms herself like Queen Nour of Jordan, and looks like the princess at a Homecoming Dance. Morse visits her, and she puts the moves on him, even giving him a glass of single malt in her well-appointed flat. She asks if Morse wouldn't like to stay awhile. "There wouldn't be any -- er -- obligation." She and the flabbergasted Morse are face to face and, cut.
The resolution of the mystery depends on a trick suitable, not for Agatha Christie, but for Lieutenant Columbo.