All language subtitles for Jonathan Creek - 05x03 - The Curse Of The Bronze Lamp.DVDRip-RB58.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

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Hi! Hi! How's it going?
You having a good one?

Not working too hard?

Listen, I thought we
could just celebrate

with a quiet night in tonight.
What do you think?

Bottle of wine, just the two of us...

Keep it all really low key.

I know, I'm so boring.

Guys. Can you get out, please,
and bring your papers? Thank you.

Can you show him the papers?

Nice day for it.
Who ordered some music?

How do you do?

Go on, then. Your husband,
remind me what he does?

Secretary of State for something,
in the government.

We can but hope, one day.

At the moment, just a junior
minister at the Home Office.

That's what we need,
sorting out all the villains.

And your face, it was Karl here
who recognised. Didn't you say?

One of those computer
magazines the other week.

- You were on front cover.
- Oh, that. Yes.

That was just... I developed this
new fractal compression codec

to combat generation loss
through chroma subsampling.

A lot of fuss about nothing.

Yeah...

Lindsey Isherwood,
top solutions analyst.

Voted number one in
the country by experts.

What did they call you?

Some kind of
"problem-solving genius."

I don't think we need to go there.

What did Newton say?

"Standing on the
shoulders of giants?"

Real, inspirational genius for me

is when we take those very
first steps into the light.

Like the day when man comes up with
that very first primitive alphabet,

or a system of smoke signals,
or semaphore, you know.

He's essentially finding new
ways to repackage information.

To reinterpret and convert it into

simpler forms of readily-
transmittable data

that, conceptually, are the basis
of all modern communication.

Oh, God. I seem to have wandered into
a Melvyn Bragg interview. Help!

Look, I've got two hours
before my husband's back,

first guests'll be here at seven.
I'm going to have to leave you to it,

while I go and make
myself presentable.

You need anything,
just give me a shout.

What's happening?
We all ready now?

- Ready to rock and roll.
- Ah-ha. Okay, great...

How would that be as
a birthday present?

To have you back
all in one piece, huh?

We'll see how much your
husband thinks you're worth.

Okay, we leave you now.

You have your dinner.

Mrs. Number One Solutions Analyst.

Come up with a solution to this
one, we'll be really impressed.

No, it's a tonic, Polly,

to have you back among
us after all these years.

And he could be a lot
worse, couldn't he?

What's his name, Leonard?

Jonathan.

Still very early days of course,
for the pair of you.

And you've still got your looks.

You won't be worrying yet
about affairs and infidelities

and everything turning stale.

The rancid stench of adultery will
be the last thing on your mind,

as it was for me at your age.

But of course, I've buried
three husbands since then.

- Today, we'd call them mercy killings.
- Don't listen to her.

She hasn't been sexually aroused
since Eden resigned.

Now, what do you think?

Should I pour his,
or will he be a while yet?

Oh, not sure. I think after
that last serving of rum

and marmalade brulee...

on top of the venison faggots,
he just needed some fresh air.

- Oh.
- So what do we think, Laurel?

Any chance of finishing this off
before the clocks go back, or...?

Don't rush me, Horace!

You always were an impatient child.

I don't know why we come and stay
with you, you're always the same.

Well, this will just have to do.

"Lousewort."

13 doubled is 26,
plus 50 bonus, 76.

Yes, I'm enjoying playing this
special Klingon edition.

"Quadplex, jigaboo,
cabezons, eclogite..."

And who, or what, is a lousewort
when it's at home?

It's a small pinkish plant.
Don't you know anything?

Semi-parasitic, I think, and
related to the snapdragons.

But then, you never paid
enough attention, did you,

to botany, at school?

Ah. You look a bit brighter.
Did you, erm...?

I did, thank you.

Down by the river or...?

Yep, went up onto that little bridge

and leant over the rail, perfect spot.

For watching your amazing
bird life, Mr. Greeley.

All your egrets and
mallards, wonderful.

Widgeon and teal...

I think I saw a Grey Heron,
didn't I, at one point?

Skulking amongst the reeds.

You'll have worked up an appetite
for a Stilton barley cake.

Actually, Heidi, it's been a lovely
evening and lovely food,

but time we were moving,
do you reckon?

Early start in the morning and
you-know-who's coming at seven.

Oh, yes. Our new cleaner, Denise.

I tell you, talk about
marriage problems.

And I wouldn't mind, but it's
all she ever goes on about.

Every last intimate detail, as if
I'm some sort of agony aunt. But...

Thanks for a smashing
evening, all of you.

Yes, and...

How nice to know you found
our wildlife so fascinating.

And I wonder if you also managed to
spot a great-crested grebe out there.

I'm fairly sure I heard
one a few minutes ago.

Very distinctive call they have,

rather like a sort of
loud retching sound.

Very likely, Mr. Greeley...

now you come to mention it.

That was a rare treat.

Not many meals where you can
actually feel your arteries

furring up with each mouthful.

Bring back Jack Warner and
Elsie and Doris Waters.

Are you going to do something
about that phone of yours?

Accidentally
re-dialling all the while.

That's the third time this week now.

- Oh, sorry, sorry.
- It's got a mind of its own.

It's got a very sensitive keypad.
I will do something about it.

And don't you think you could
just learn to be a bit more

sociable now and again?

You just have to make the effort
sometimes, you know,

reach out to people.
Don't be so quick to judge.

Oh, why didn't I use
that loo just now?

All that coffee. Two minutes.

Look, this really
isn't funny, Heidi!

We'll never get away with
this in a month of Sundays.

I can't go through
with it, I'm sorry.

You will go through with it!

We have to! There's no backing
out now, for either of us.

Oh, come on!

You've got 24 hours,
so just pull yourself together.

That was quick.

No, I didn't...

Oh, I'll... tell you later.

Denise, how are we this morning?

Oh! You know, Polly. Me and Dean.

I don't like to talk about it.

Certain things between
a husband and wife,

you really just can't talk about.

Oh, no, no, I completely understand.

He never touches me any more.

I mean, not in those places.

You know the places
I'm talking about.

The front garden,
public bridleways...

And as for what happens in bed.

Don't let's even, you know,
cos I couldn't, but...

- Oh, God, no, of course!
- I'd get more action in Lenin's Tomb.

Oh...

Okay, so he does night
shifts at the store now,

but you'd think we could
occasionally meet in the middle?

- So to speak.
- Oh, but now! This'll interest you.

Guess what I picked up
from this old bloke

in the back of a van yesterday.

Don't!

Peddling all sorts of weird
stuff and bric-a-brac.

And I just thought,
it's got to be, hasn't it?

Aladdin's Lamp.
Maybe my luck'll change.

And on the bottom it's got this...

weird little inscription.

See here? "Cave Quid Optes".

I thought maybe you could
make sense of them.

Latin.

Cave quid optes.

Idiomatically, I suppose,
"Be careful what you wish for."

Well, what does any woman wish for?
Men and money.

Excitement and wealth.

Oh, just a nice guy for a start.

To come into my life,
and give me a good...

We get the picture.

Well, you know, give me a
good time would be nice.

And here's where it gets spooky.

Do you know what turned
up last night in my spam?

Completely out of the blue,
a link to one of these,

what do you call them?
Male escort agencies.

So how amazing is that?

So... But you're not
seriously considering...?

Oh, I've done it, Polly.

It's booked.

Online, whole thing, sorted.

You know, cos I'm thinking,

"Come on, Denise!
This is your life! Get in!" Right?

So... anyway, yeah.

Tomorrow night,
fingers crossed for me.

I'll keep you posted.

I'm sure we'll both
look forward to that!

Oh, God, what is this?

What the hell is this?

I don't know. What is it?

It looks like... You know those
cameras people set up that...

work off a sensor or whatever
to take pictures of wildlife

by remote control during the night?

Oh, I don't believe
someone's done this.

Last night, coming back
from Greeley's,

when we had to stop off
by that bit of woodland

cos I couldn't last any longer...?

Are you joking?

What, you mean...?

An automatic picture of you going...

How bad, exactly,
are we talking here?

Oh.

Wow.

They've really raised their game
with these fast lenses now.

- Check out that resolution.
- Never mind the bloody resolution!

Doesn't even say who's sent it!

There's no note inside, no message.

I don't recognise the writing.

Someone's put this in our
post box this morning!

Well, who do we know might
have one of these cameras?

Round here? It could be anyone.

They're all into that bloody malarkey.

It could be anyone in the village.

They're probably using it as a
screensaver even as we speak.

Oh, come on, it's probably
just a bit of fun.

I wouldn't start worrying yourself...

- it's gone viral or...
- Gone viral?!

God, you really know the right
thing to say, don't you?

I'll get the car out.

Good morning.

Jonathan?

Sorry, I can't believe I don't
even know your last name.

Daisy Shand.

That famous evening, six
years ago, with Arabella?

Daisy Shand! You're joking!
How are you?

- Cos didn't you rock that night?
- Yeah!

I mean, just amazing!

To say you pulled it
out of the bag. Well...

Would be one way of putting it!
My God!

Cos you're a legend now
in our house, I tell you...

Yes, and hi. You might remember
me. We got, what was it? Married.

- Yes, that's right.
- Okay, sorry!

Um, this is Polly, my wife.
Daisy Shand.

And you two know each
other, obviously, from...?

Well actually, not
really at all, do we?

- No.
- Only in the most casual sense.

He delivered my first baby.

Okay!
That kind of casual sense.

Well, you were going out
with my best friend...

Yeah, Mad Arabella, the midwife.

...who came round
for a meal that night,

and that's when it all
went pear-shaped.

Well, I was pretty
pear-shaped already.

Seriously bad timing, she'd still
got her arm in a sling from that

- ski-ing accident.
- ski-ing accident, yeah.

You remember, she had to talk
you through the whole thing.

I had my eyes shut.

- Nightmare!
- So we got there in the end.

So, how is he now?
Emotionally scarred for life or...?

He's great.

He's a little star, definitely.

- And got a little sister now as well.
- Wow.

Theodore's departed
from the scene, but...

- No, we're all of us really good.
- Oh.

Well, listen, you should come
round for a bite to eat.

Why don't you give me a call and
we can have a proper catch-up?

That'd be so nice!
Yeah, thank you. Definitely!

Nice to see you.

- Nice to see you, too.
- Nice to meet you.

- Lovely to meet you.
- Bye.

- Bye.
- Bye.

What?

Oh, come on, you were the one
who said I had to be more sociable

and start reaching out to people.

What? What?

You couldn't make it up, could you?
A weather girl!

Yes, I think she'd only just started
at the Met Office at the time.

Isn't it amazing?

You know, I honestly didn't
recognise her face at all.

Which only begs the question,
which bit would you have recognised?

Funny, isn't it, how these
little nuggets from the past

can still emerge after all this time?

Still, I suppose it's what
keeps a marriage interesting.

Now, okay with you if we dispense
with the stirrups tonight

and just go for a dining chair?

Oh.

You're a... bit earlier
than I was expecting.

And you'll be Denise. I'm Kevin.

Kevin! Yes. Right.

Oh, come in. Come, come.

I will be fine. Deep breaths.

Just give me a second.

No worries, Denise.
You just relax.

I-I was just about to
get in the bath, but...

Sounds like fun.

Oh, no, definitely.

It's like, all the data's there.
What's to be sceptical about?

I mean, cos we're tracking these
things globally every day

using general circulation models.

And all our projections are for
further temperature rise

in the atmospheric mean.

You can talk glaciers,
you can talk hurricanes,

you can talk precipitation,

I just don't get where these people
are coming from half the time.

Ah, but you know what's funny?

The other day, right,
I'm reading this report

and this headline about a
"top denier briefs conference."

In a journal of climatology?

Sounded highly unlikely.

Looked at it again, of course,

"Top denier briefs conference."

If you say it the right way,
it does make more sense,

but I thought that was so funny.
PHONE RINGS

You know when you're
really struggling

to somehow see the relevance
of nylon hosiery?

That's funny.

I thought so.

It's like it suddenly just clicked,
denier, den-ier, you know?

Hello? Sorry?

Who's that? Denise?

Hang on, slow down, slow down.
You're not making any sense.

What do you mean?
What kind of tragedy?

He's dead, Polly!

The man I said was
coming round tonight.

It's like, he just started
gasping and rolling his eyes.

Obviously I thought he
was enjoying himself.

And then, all of a sudden,
he just...

...went a funny colour
and stopped breathing!

I think I'm going... to faint!

Oh, f...! No, don't faint!
Don't faint! I'll be right over!

- What's happening now?
- Don't ask.

Another crisis?

Oh God, Polly, what have I done?

So, where is he? Still in there?

Yes, and he's turned turtle now.

Oh, what am I going to do?

Turned turtle?!

I was trying to see if there was
some way I could get hold of him.

I don't know!

So have you rung for the
police or an ambulance?

I can't ring the police!
And say what?

I've got a dead male
prostitute in the bath?

They'll need two ambulances, one to
take me away after Dean finds out!

He is not going to see
the funny side of this.

I think my head's going to explode.

Yes, Denise, do you think you might
want to... put something on?

Yes. Good.

Good idea. Yes.

Something soothing,
calm me down,

while I try and get my
thoughts straight here.

Clothes, Denise!

Clothes? Very good!

Check his pockets!

Perhaps they could
tell us something.

Ah, here we go. Envelope.

Looks like a gas bill.

Mr. K. Parry, 13 Bishops Row,
Lower Drayfield.

Okay, here's what we'll do.

Think I saw this somewhere,

might have been a Cracker
or a Midsomer Murders.

We drive him home in his car,
and fill up the bath,

and then we just leave him
for someone else to find.

If we could put him in a sack.

Put him in a sack?!
Are you insane?!

We can't walk out of
here with a dead body!

What if someone sees us?!

No. No, that is completely
out of the quest...?

What's this? We going to
examine his prostate now?

Dabs, Polly! We don't want to
leave a soco team any presents?

Oh, you've got all the
terminology. Soco, dabs.

You watch enough of
cop shows, it rubs off.

Oh, God.

Maybe Jonathan was right.

I should have been more careful.

Dear God.

Just need to try and
slide him, that's it.

Maybe we can put him on casters.

Carefully. Slowly.

"Hi, this is Denise and Dean."

"Please leave a message
after the beep."

"Oh, God. Remind
me never to invite"

"a strange man into
my bath ever again."

"It's not even as if we
were going at it that hard."

Okay. I think I can cope now.

I think we're going to be all right.

- I've got a feeling...
- What?

No, just...
I don't know what it was.

It's like a pink butterfly or
something just went past.

At this time of night?

Oh, God, Polly.

Listen, you're a life saver.

Thank you so much,
so much for tonight.

But you've got to
promise me, okay?

You will not breathe a
word of this to anyone.

What are you now,
Burke and Hare?

- You realise that's completely illegal.
- Is it?

Well, it's bound to be.
Everything's illegal now.

There'll be some European Statute

governing the re-immersion of corpses
in water without their written consent,

I don't know.

What if you took him
back to the wrong house?

Someone's in for a nice
surprise in the morning.

Oh, don't say that!

No, no, the key worked in the lock.
Stop trying to scare me.

Anyway, you're one to talk

about riding to the rescue
with damsels in distress.

Any more of your exciting escapades
I need to know about?

Performing a Caesarian
on Wincey Willis

with a Swiss Army pen-knife?

So... what time did she leave?

She did leave?

Madness. Complete madness.

And everything was still locked?

Windows obviously not an option.

It's not the sort of thing
your husband would creep in

and leave as a present?

And he'll be back here any minute.

Whoa... God. Oh, God, oh, God.

Sodding lamp!

"Men and money," did I say?

Cos this is really starting to
do my brain in now, big time.

Can you begin to guess
how much it's worth?

And this Kevin, who came round...

Never so much as set foot in here
the whole time, I can swear to that.

I just changed the bed because...
Oh, don't ask.

Everything in the house just
felt so unclean by that time.

So I put on a complete set of
fresh sheets, fresh pillow cases.

I am telling you,

that was absolutely not there
when I went to sleep.

Where did it come from?

It's got like a number
four on the back.

Why does that seem vaguely familiar?

The time's completely wrong, of
course, with the winder pulled out.

Maybe deliberately stopped
at that point for some reason.

Five past one.

What time did you
get back last night?

- 11-ish. 11:15.
- Oh...

So... who's the photographer?
You or...?

What? Oh, don't.

If he spent less time playing with
all his toys and bit more with me,

it might've been a different story.

I mean, what is going on here?

A piece of priceless jewellery

can't just magically appear
from nowhere, out of thin air!

- Can it?
- Mmm.

It's a bit of a shocker,
I'll give you that.

Why have I got the
lurking suspicion that

we're not looking at a gift here,

but some kind of message?

From someone... somewhere.

A message from who?

And trying to tell us what?

Oh!

Hello, Dean.

Don't think you've met Polly...
and Jonathan?

We were... we were just leaving.

And there was nothing else,
last night, when you were out?

No-one about, when you
were outside his house?

No-one who might have
been following you, or...?

You mean like a genie of the lamp,
floated through the key-hole?

There was a butterfly
at one point, but...

Sorry.

Flew past me outside,
or it might have been a moth.

Bit gaily coloured for a moth,
it was more of a pink colour.

Of course!

That's what it was.
And this is where I saw it.

That Government minister,
Rowan Isherwood,

his wife has just been kidnapped.

Look at this.

Her personal monogram, LI.

Lindsey Isherwood.

Hang on. Pause it there.

Oh.

How does that work?

They took the watch off her?

And then miraculously planted
it under the pillow of a woman,

goodness knows how far away who's
got nothing to do with anything?

What would be the point?

Fairly obviously,
no point whatsoever.

Far more point if it had
come from the victim.

What?

How desperate would
you be in her shoes,

to send out some kind of cry for
help to anyone who'd listen?

Right, when they've
got her locked up,

chained up and handcuffed in
a completely airtight dungeon?

I mean, from the look of this,
she can barely move from the spot.

I know. On the face of it,
an utterly fantastical notion.

But what do we know about
Lindsey Isherwood?

About her famously inventive mind,
her proven ability to dig her

way out of any problem
that's thrown at her?

Clearly she's unable to speak or
even write to anyone in there.

But what if she'd managed,
by some amazing, lateral process

we can't even begin to imagine,
to send some kind of coded SOS

to the outside world?

1-0-5.

It's not a time. It's a date.

1-0-5. The first of...

Oh, God.

May Day.

Yeah, hello.

Hi, Denise.

What now?

This is just getting so bizarre!

I've just had a message
from that escort company,

saying that owing to
incorrect information

my credit card
payment was declined.

"And we are therefore unable
to process your booking."

They never took my money.

- The transaction never went through.
- But that means...

No-one from that place ever
came round here last night.

Well then who was that guy
who died in your bath?

I have absolutely no sodding idea.

Erm...

Well, this may or may
not be connected, but...

I think we've found out
who that watch belongs to.

I gave her this. Her 35th birthday.

This is absolutely the
watch she was wearing.

Where did you get this from?

- Who are these people?
- All right, Mr. Isherwood,

I think we have to take this
step by step for now.

Vitally important
in cases like this,

we manage to sort out the
cranks and time-wasters

from those with a genuine lead.

And, incredible as it sounds,
I have to tell you that we

found an almost perfect fingerprint
from your wife on the glass here.

In fact, so perfect,
it would suggest...

She placed it there deliberately...
to prove it's genuine.

What's the inference here?

We know they've got her.
They put out that loathsome video.

What's this?

Found just under three hours ago
among some bushes on Limbury Common

by a lady walking her dog.

Discarded tights in
the undergrowth

wouldn't necessarily
raise an eyebrow, but

in view of the up-market brand,

and the rather curious fact

that a knot's been tied
in the elastic at the top,

the whole area's been sealed off
while we carry out a thorough search.

We've no idea, of course,

the extent of the damage
before the dog got to them.

Either way, I don't think we should
jump to any conclusions as yet.

Let's just wait and see for
the moment what exactly...

Karen Addams.

Actually, he's with me now, sir.

Oh, really?

Yes.

No, no, I will. Thank you.

The kidnappers, apparently,
have released another video.

They're saying this was
shot just 20 minutes ago.

It seems to be more of the same.

Except now with bare legs.

And the watch is gone!

What the hell does
it mean, all of this?

Yeah. Yeah. No, that's rough.

No...

That is seriously bad news.

No, no, appreciate it, mate.
Thanks for ringing.

Yeah, see you round.

- "Bad news"?
- Yeah, not good. Not good.

Mate of mine from the darts club,
I'd known him six years.

- Oh, dear. Sorry.
- Yeah, 32.

They reckon he had a heart condition.

He never looked after himself,
did he?

- I mean, he smoked 50 a day.
- Oh.

But still no age, is it?

One minute he's lying there,
having a nice hot bath.

Yeah, neighbour went in
this morning, apparently.

And you know what the kicker is?

It was only a couple of nights ago,
he said he'd try and pop round here,

when he'd got a minute,
have a look at your stiff clutch.

Did you... mention that to me at all?

Did I mention it?
That was his trade, wasn't it?

Kev Parry, car mechanic.

Yeah, real choker.

Anyway, you were a long time.

- What was it? Three-setter?
- What do you mean?

Oh! Yes, yes. Marathon.

Yes, that Penny's got a...
demon backhand there now.

Erm...

think I might just
get in that shower...

and then...
perhaps have a lie down.

Morning, Polly. Having a wee break.

Having a coffee break? Erm, yes.

- How are you, Mr. Greeley?
- Yes, fine.

First Sunday in the month,
the Photographic Club Bird Watch.

If you go in the woods ever,
up yonder, especially at night,

there's some fascinating sights.

If I "go" in the woods at night?
Erm, not very often, no.

Actually, while I've got you,

something I forgot to
mention the other night.

I had a letter from a lady,
through the newsletter,

sounds very interested
in your husband.

Here. Miss Poppy Mason,
lives in Lower Thatcham,

apparently she's an
underwear model.

She says she totally shares his
fascination with unexplained

phenomena and would love to
meet up with him some time.

What do you think?
Shall I put her in touch?

An underwear model.

I don't think he's quite got over the
weather girl yet actually, so uh...

But still, I mean,
if she's that keen...

And how's Heidi and Laurel?
Not gone back yet.

Not till next weekend, no.

And they're both okay?

Absolutely fine, as far as I know.

Well, give them both my love.

For goodness' sake, Laurel,
don't be such a weed!

I said we could do it
and we did it.

Look at me.

It was ten hours ago
and I'm still shaking.

It was the most wretched
night of my whole life!

And I tell you this much,
Heidi, never again.

Look. We are on the verge of
something, don't you understand?

It was never going to
be easy, we knew that,

but now is not the time
to lose our nerve.

You okay?

Yeah, yeah.
Just... head full of stuff.

This kidnap thing.

The more you try and tease it out...

A killer, isn't it?

Every way you come at it.

And you're still not letting go...
of that theory?

She's somehow pulled off this
amazing act of teleportation

from inside an air-tight
prison cell.

Even you couldn't manage
a trick like that.

Well, you'd be surprised.

It's just a knack mostly.

Throwing that one curve-ball.

A device, or an idea or...

Sometimes the simplest thing
that everyone's forgotten about.

Once you've tumbled it,
the whole miracle's blown.

And that "curve-ball" here is...?

Almost certainly staring us in
the face, but I just can't see it.

Well, I have to say, when that
camera went in really tight...

it was like her eyes were definitely
trying to tell you something.

What?

Only one thing that
would be of any use...

- ...where they're hiding her.
- Would she even know?

Okay, so what have we got?

Watches under pillows, a pair of
ripped tights found on the common...

That had a knot tied
in the waistband.

Suggesting... the elastic's gone?

I don't know, that she's lost
weight and they're too loose?

Struggling on this one.

Struggling...

...to see the relevance
of nylon hosiery.

That what she said?

Daisy, when she was here,
the other night.

And, "If you say it the right way,
it does make more sense."

A knot in the waist.
Waist knot.

I don't know. Maybe I'm
scraping the barrel here.

But bearing in mind this is someone

that has got almost
nothing to work with.

Can only pray that someone
else, somewhere,

will be able to fathom the clue.

What do you think?

Waist knot...

...might just refer to...

And this is how many?

About 1½ miles from their house.

Corporation recycling centre.

Hardly be holding her there, but...

maybe somewhere close by?

No more than a glimmer I suppose,
but something to sleep on, at least.

Oh, you've not forgotten
Mr. Greeley's coming tomorrow?

To pick up those logs
I said we'd let him have.

He said something to me this
morning about some woman

who'd been in touch with him.

Seemed very keen to meet you.

An underwear model of
all things, think he said.

Oh, yeah, he did
mention something.

I said, fine, as we're not
due in till lunchtime,

if he wanted to bring
her along when he came.

A quick chat over a cup of tea.

Sent me a slightly strange
text back, actually.

"No problem. Sure I can arrange it."

"Expect she'll be thrilled to meet you",
with three exclamation marks.

Why strange?

The exclamation mark

is the typographical
equivalent of a red nose,

invariably used to make a weak
joke appear faintly amusing.

But where's the joke here?
I can't see it.

Maybe tomorrow all
will become clear.

- How long you been using this?
- Sorry?

"Protein-enriched, anti-wrinkle
rejuvenating serum."

"Eliminates bags under eyes."

Oh, yes. Complete crap of course.

Ten past. I thought
they'd be here by now.

Who's that?

Oh. Talk of the devil.

Morning. You well?

Yes. Morning.
You on your own?

Oh, no, no, no. She's here,
she's just still in the van.

If you want to come and say hello.

There we go.

I've watched this one
mature, of course,

from the tiniest chick to this
rather splendid specimen,

and I count myself very fortunate
to have her on the doorstep.

Erm... yeah. Slightly lost me.

I can let her out if you want
to inspect more closely.

But we'll have to box clever in
case she suddenly takes flight,

they're a devil for that.

Mr. Greeley,
what are you talking about?

Why in heaven's name would I
want to inspect it more closely?

Well, as you specifically
asked me to bring her along,

I naturally assumed...

Asked you to bring her along?

Well, I don't think
I imagined it, did I?

Yes, but strange as it may seem,
I'm not in the habit of inviting

semi-domesticated water-fowl
round for morning coffee.

What kind of nincompoop
do you take me for?

"Hi Mr. G. Re Poppy, happy
to oblige. Will you arrange?"

"If at all poss, could you
bring heron Monday?"

Yeah, well, quite patently
I missed the space out!

It's a tad of a non-sequitur,
wouldn't you say?

Look, I'm sorry.

I was under the impression you
took an interest in these things.

If you knew how long it
took me this morning

to round this one up in the garden.

It was only by the grace of God
and three large tins of sardines

- I eventually managed...
- Mr. Greeley, I despair.

I completely and utterly despair.

I'm not laughing.

Really and honestly, I do empathise.

Cos that must have
been so disappointing!

Poor thing.

Was expecting to meet a serious
ornithologist and what happens?

Should be grateful, I suppose,
he didn't let it out.

There's no telling where
it might have ended up.

Don't worry.

I'm sure we can pop Poppy Mason
back in the diary again for you...

...very soon.

"The rancid stench of adultery."

Excuse me?

Givenchy, can you believe,
didn't go for it?

They're a tough nut to crack.

As it happens,

she may have just come up with
a crucial piece in the jigsaw

that conflates rather neatly
with something on that map.

If we look at that corporation
recycling centre,

the spot where those
tights were found,

and that house you both went to
where our poor friend Kevin lived,

what do you notice?

They're all in a straight line.

And? What does that prove?

For the moment, nothing.

But it does at least
tell us where to look.

Do you want to wait here?
I may be a while.

Oh!

Oh!

Jonathan?

Jonathan?

Sorry about that! Dead branch.

What the hell are you doing?!

Hopefully, trying to
shed some final light

on this whole rather
fantastic affair.

Yes!

Got you, you bugger.

What have you found? What is it?

One thing it's not
is a pink butterfly.

But it does, I think, tell us
everything we need to know about

Lindsey Isherwood's
teleportation trick.

It's the remains of a balloon.

The whole idea, talking about birds,

that we might be looking at some
kind of airborne delivery system,

was immediately seductive.

And once I'd locked in the fact
that she'd been blowing them up

that day for the party...

There was only one train of events
that could made it all work.

Putting the watch inside
would identify the sender,

but there had to be something else

that would draw
attention to the balloon

and provide some kind
of clue to the location.

Raging gales would have
helped it on its way.

Till, as we know, the tights
and balloon parted company...

halfway across the common.

Final port of call,

the tree outside Kevin's
house, where it bursts.

And the rest of what happens
just really has to flow from that.

What?

No, I don't know what it was.

It was like a pink butterfly or
something just went past.

And just to cover all
bases, of course,

you confirmed the direction
of the wind that night.

With someone who
knows about these things.

Of course, it's quite possible
I misread that whole thing

with the recycling centre, but...

Does feel a bit of a needle
in a haystack job.

If we're assuming it was something
she could see from that window...

It could be anywhere, I suppose,
within a radius of miles.

Where do you start?

Not quite enough there
for basic triangulation.

But then, look at her options.

She's done everything
humanly possible.

I guess there was nothing else
of any value she could tell us.

That other video, where she
seemed to be rubbing her knee.

There was a second clue...

...we never spotted...

cos the way that dog had
been had distracted us.

From a hole in the knee.

A ripped knee...

a tear in the knee...

A torn knee...

Oh.

Unbelievable.

What?

And that second reference point
turned out to be the breakthrough.

Two locations well
known to the victim,

the pub and the recycle centre,

would have been visible only
from one very narrow section

of the surrounding countryside.

Stay as you are!

Officers! Armed police!

Well, I think all that deserves a
little celebration of some kind.

Thought we could try out that
new pizza place tonight,

what do you reckon?

Live entertainment,
stuff ourselves silly.

I might even buy us a
bottle of champagne.

Yes, go on! Pat on the back,
I think you've earned it.

I don't know about that other woman,
but you've certainly saved my life.

You know just when you're starting
to doubt your own sanity?

Yes. So how are things then now,
Denise, with you and Dean?

Seem to have settled down a bit?

Well, I don't want to tempt
fate, but, so far, just lately,

things have been,
picking up, let's say.

But you've not come clean
with him yet, about...?

Oh, God, no!

Fingers crossed, that is
one stupid, tragic episode,

he will never need to know about.

You have three new messages.

Listen, these last few days...

Sorry if I've been a bit,
you know.

Women get these paranoias.

So you're definitely okay
about seeing Daisy again?

Cos she was so keen to have us round.

And one thing she can do is cook.

Absolutely. No, of course.
It'll be great.

Yeah, cos the "rancid
stench of adultery".

Where did that one come from?

Oh, no.
That was just something that...

Okay, folks, time to settle down now

for our Friday Night Open
Mic entertainment.

Will you give a very
warm welcome please

to a charming new double act,

Heidi and Laurel?

Good evening.
We are thrilled to be here!

As you can see, I'm beside myself.

We are not, as you might think,
identical twins.

I'm identical, but she isn't.

I've always been the one
who takes all the risks.

You see, I wasn't born until
three hours after her.

Always afraid to stick her neck out.

Well this is a turn
up for the books!

Although...

This really isn't funny, Heidi.

We'll never get away with
this in a month of Sundays.

I can't go through with it,
I'm sorry.

So where to next?
The Bellagio, Vegas?

See? I said she had
a sense of humour.

You know, she would never sent
it the other day, that photograph.

Photograph?

We'd only set it up
the night before

and it seemed such a coincidence.

Did you not realise from the little
word balloon and everything?

Word balloon.

We just thought,
what were the chances?

With it coming up on the
scrabble board like that.

No.

No, that was a coincidence.

Anyway, enjoy the
rest of your evening.

Yes, you too. Great set.

And I love the way you didn't
go for the obvious name,

Laurel and Heidi.

Laurel and...? Oh!

There's a thought.

So there you go.

Worrying over nothing.

Hang on. What's this?

Oh! Yes!

She pressed it into my hand
just as we were coming out.

Had quite enough of "magic wishes"
for the time being, I think, so...

Why anyone would ever
believe that stuff?

I know!

Oh, God.

- What?
- Oh, that's terrible.

Daisy.

Said she came home
last night from work,

found her whole place
had been flooded!

Burst pipe or something
from the flat above.

She said she stepped inside,
slipped over and broke her leg.

She's going to be on crutches
now, for three months.

Oh, dear.

Well, that's put the
kibosh on our plans.

Anyway...

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