All language subtitles for Taggart s10e02 Hellfire.eng

How many times I've told you I don't
like being interrupted?

I'm going out.

You look a mess.

You don't have to shop in charity shops,
you know.

I don't do it for you.

You don't do it for any other man,
that's for certain.

Hey, Bill.

Have you finished already?

I need fresh air.

I'd take a large whiskey before you go
in there.

Splendid or single malt?

Bill, I'm not joking.

A son of a gun will have great fun on
the bayou. A son of a gun will have

fun on the bayou.

Speech, Bill.

No, no.

No speech.

Can't get away from it, Bill. Off you
go, son.

What, Bill?

Speech. Give us a speech.

Never do you mind about the cake.

Colleagues, my lord, may I be allowed to
refer to my notes? You're not in the

witness box now.

Retirement is a bitter pill to swallow.

39 years ago, I made the decision to
join a police force.

A police force very different from the
one in which we now all serve.

I'll leave behind me a breed of young
men, the very finest.

Callum. Here, here.

Step into one of you young guys' shoes
and have my life over again.

Don't worry, Bill. We'll fill in the
gaps. He is steaming.

Retirement is a bitter pill to swallow.
A bitter

pill to swallow.

39 years ago, I joined the police force.

39 years ago.

Give him some air.

I've made a fool of myself.

Oh, it's hot in here.

It's the only case, Jim.

The only murder in 39 years left open.

I know he did it.

He's just sitting there gloating at me.

We'll get him.

For 39 years, I've never seen a body
like that. Oh, Bill.

To do that to a body, Jim, Bill, you
would have to be not just sick. Bill,

your party.

Enjoy yourself.

You all right?

Aye.

He's just taking a wee trip down memory
lane.

We've inherited the Martin case.

Which one's that?

The Black Magic murder.

We know who did it, but we have no
evidence.

If there's no evidence, how do you know
who did it?

It's just a feeling, Jean.

Well, surely you have to find the
evidence first.

You should write a manual on police
procedure.

See, what happened on April the 30th,
that wasn't common practice. That was

work of a maniac.

It was Walpurgis Night or something.

Walpurgis Night.

In German folklore, the night of the
witch is Sabbath.

It's the translation of Walpurgisnacht,
the eve of the feast day of St.

Walpurga, an 8th century abbess.

I'm getting seriously worried about you.

I'm afraid we're going to have to go
through this again.

Greg Martin confessed to you that on
April the 30th this year, he murdered

father with a chainsaw.

That's right.

That he dismembered the body, carved
Kabbalistic signs into the flesh with a

knife, and inserted candles into both
eye sockets with the intention of making

it look like a mansion -type killing.

Mansion, yes.

That his motive in doing so was to
inherit 4 .5 million pounds.

Yes.

Did he tell you this while you were in
bed together?

Yes.

Before or after?

I don't really have to answer that.

I'm afraid you do, Samantha.

It was after.

He just lay there and told me.

He was boasting about it.

In my life.

This was three months ago.

And why now?

Because I want to.

I couldn't keep this to myself anymore.

I'm telling you now.

Let's have him in and confront him.

We're only going to get one shot at
this, sir. So?

Greg Martin is a cunning liar, sir.

Why should he confess four months later?

If we could get him to confess to
someone else.

No.

No.

You get to know him.

Come across with him. Rolling sausage,
please.

Ah, that's a pretty jockey. No onions,
then.

Thought you were made of more
adventurous stuff.

I said to Mike, I said, the jockey's got
guts. She'll do it.

Take it as a yes, then.

The victim, James Martin.

Ex -whiskey baron.

Sold Roundmont Distilleries to the
Thistle Group four weeks before he was

murdered. For £4 .5 million.

Greg's mother, Lavinia Martin.

Dealer in autographed letters and
historical documents.

Looked out of business.

Lavinia suffered years of humiliation
due to her husband's sexual athletics.

Known to have hated him.

Where was she on the night of the
murder?

In Edinburgh, buying from another
dealer.

Bill Scott's team eliminated her as a
suspect early on.

It was Greg who claimed to find the
body.

The murder scene.

There now follows pictures of the body.

Written in blood on the wall, the four
Hebrew letters.

Samech, Val, Resh.

They spell the four consonants of the
name Saurath in medieval demonology, the

demon of the sun.

Otherwise known as the Great Beast.

Six, six, six.

Jackie, if you don't want to do this,
you can walk away right now.

None of us will blame you.

Thanks, sir.

Greg Martin, taken at his father's
funeral.

Interests. Money.

Women.

And horses.

Any questions?

Just one.

Do I get a badge for this?

How about an independent financial
consultant?

I'm overdrawn every month.

Fashion designer?

I'm not artistic.

Look, the first rule of any kind of
undercover work is that you're

with a role.

Didn't you once look into your family
tree?

Mm -hm. Well, there you go. You're a
professional genealogist.

You work from home.

We'll supply you with the books that are
filed in the stationery.

Now, what about a name?

Better keep Jackie.

Safer that way.

Oh, Nathan?

Kennedy?

Jackie Taylor.

Just one other thing, sir.

What is it?

If I do succeed in making him interested
in me, what happens if he wants to take

it further?

Then you're on your own.

This guy confesses to girls after he's
bedded them, not before.

I suppose I just want my terms of
reference made clear, that's all.

Your terms of reference are that you get
evidence.

Evidence that will stand up in court
without you being compromised.

Now, do you understand that?

What have you bloody done now?

Look, that wasn't my fault.

If you weren't so... Drunk, is it?

Don't call me drunk.

It's the same every night we go out. Oh,
it might be you. I'll put you up with

you bloody talking about work all the
time. Oh, well, if you're looking for a

dummy, go and find one. Don't come my
way when I'm drunk. I'm talking to you.

Leave me alone.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Is everything all
right? Thank you.

You're here for me.

You leave her alone.

She's with me.

Not anymore, I'm not.

Hey, why don't you just go home?

Leave her alone.

Perfect. Leave me.

Thank you.

You OK?

Yeah, I'm fine, thank you.

Is he always like that?

Only when he's had too much to drink.

I thought it might have been different
on my birthday.

Excuse me, I had a handbag.

Oh, thank you.

It's your birthday?

Well, tomorrow is.

I'd better go.

Do you need a lift home?

You just get so jealous.

I've just split up with my girlfriend
for the same reason.

Sorry, my name's Greg.

Greg Martin.

Hi, mate, I'm Jackie Taylor.

Haven't seen you at Oscars before?

No, no, it's my first time.

I go every Friday night.

Sad, isn't it?

Rob. Just leave it.

Please. What kind of slag are you? Rob!

I'm impressed.

I hate violence.

Don't you?

Um... Can I, uh... Can I see you again?

I've got a card somewhere.

I work from home.

Genealogist?

Do you think you could trace some
notorious criminal in my family history?

I could try.

Thank you.

Good night.

Good night.

Oh, Jackie Reed, what have you got
yourself into?

Dear Jackie, happy birthday to you.

This is Radio Wonderland, welcoming you
to a bright new day.

And your host, Gregory Martin, inviting
you to dinner tonight, 8 o 'clock sharp.

Don't be late.

In the meantime, Jackie Taylor of
University Terrace, Glasgow.

This song is for you.

Hold me in your arms.

I won't...

I'll have the choux au fromage.

And we'll both have the poulet chateau.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Is this a regular haunt of yours?

Last time I was with my parents back in
April.

I treated them on their anniversary.

I don't even know what you do or
anything about your family.

My father's dead.

Long story.

He was James Martin, the distillery
owner. He...

He

was murdered.

They did it on Val Pergis night last
spring.

They?

Satanists.

The police thought I did it.

Because I inherited his money.

What was the motive?

I don't know.

I wish I did.

How do you know there were more than
one?

Well, you hear about these killings. You
know, Manson, that kind of thing.

You know, you interrogate just like a
police officer.

Oh,

I'm sorry.

It's a...

It's my job.

You know, when people want you to
research their family tree, you have to

them for information.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry too.

Great birthday.

You've landed yourself a date with a
murder suspect.

Well, you brought your parents here for
their anniversary.

That's not the act of a murderer.

Hi, Peter.

Peter, this is Jackie Taylor.

Jackie, this is my cousin Peter.

Pleased to meet you.

How do you do? Greg's told me all about
you.

Well, that's funny. He doesn't know an
awful lot about me. Can Jackie borrow

lightning?

Lightning? Don't be put off by the name.
If anyone deserves it, Greg does.

Thanks very much, Peter. The last time I
rode anything was on the beach at

large. Oh, it's like swimming. You never
forget.

Oh, come on. This is Polestar.

He was the presence of my father.

Now, Polestar, you be nice and gentle to
Jackie a minute, hmm?

I'll go get a light now.

Sandy! Come on. A beautiful color.

Greg's all right.

He's been through a lot this summer.

Coming down here helps him to escape.

We all need to do that.

He used to spend every summer here when
he was a boy.

He's been more like a brother to me.

I get the feeling you're trying to tell
me something.

Only he's been let down and hurt a lot.

Well, I have no intention of letting him
down or hurting him.

Ah, Pete's the protective sword, that's
all.

He's a brother I never had.

He inherited all this from my uncle.

Now, there was a character.

Am I seeing things?

No.

My uncle was a horseman.

He used to be sick of them on the farm
when I was a boy. Pete likes to keep up

the tradition.

Who's that?

Tom McNeil.

We used to catch rats together when I
was a boy.

Scare them out of their nest, then chase
them with a spade.

A right little terror.

Well, nothing's changed.

Come on, then. Shall we go?

Come on, I want to show you something.

This is so stunning!

So what happened here?

Come on, then.

And don't worry about Mum.

She doesn't bite.

So,

that's the dining room.

Stairs.

That's the cellar. We don't go down
there anymore.

Greg didn't tell me you're a
professional genealogist.

How did you get into it?

A few years ago, I looked into my own
family tree.

And then I thought, well, I could do
this for others.

So I advertised, and, well, I've never
looked back.

I now get inquiries from all over the
world.

I'm supposed to have a Jacobite ancestor
who was hanged after the uprising in

1715. Now, how would you find him?

You could look through judiciary
records.

There's also forfeited estate papers
which concern estates forfeited after

uprisings. Oh, I've no idea if he
forfeited an estate or not. If he was

he probably did.

Do you have a name?

I don't even have that.

It's only something I've been told.

Well, it does help.

It also helps if you're not expected to
work forward from a supposed ancestor.

Greg, your tea's getting cold.

I expect you have to do that all the
time.

Oh, yes, all the time.

Mum, won't you stop putting Jackie on
the spot?

I'm only expressing an interest.

It's not often you bring home a girl who
has brains.

I didn't want it.

I deal in historical documents, so we've
a lot in common.

When we finish tea, I'll show you my
collection.

Oh, you collect as well as deal? Oh, my
dear Jackie, every dealer collects.

I never buy just to sell.

The excitement is in owning something,
even just for a short time.

This is written by Queen Anne, 1708.

And this is Henry VIII.

Addressed to the keeper of the great
wardrobe.

Ordering materials.

Three yards of black satin for a doublet
at six shillings and eight pence the

yard.

I love Lord Byron.

These are some of his earlier verses.

Autographed by him.

And more as I could Alan move.

She bade his wounded pride rebel.

Alas, that eyes which beamed with love
should urge the soul the

deeds of hell.

What's all this?

Don't touch that. It's fragile.

Ma 'am, Jackie doesn't want to be bored
by all this.

On the contrary, I find it fascinating.

Mum bought a whole batch of forged Byron
letters once, written by a bloke called

de Gibler. We won't go into that, Greg,
will we?

No, no, we won't.

By the way, I think I heard some rats in
the cellar.

I can't go down there.

Will you take care of them?

You don't have to come down here, you
know.

No, no, it's all right.

They lit candles and pushed them into
his eyes.

The pathologist said they took a
chainsaw to him.

How could the police ever think I could
do something like that to my father?

I don't know, Craig.

I don't know.

Whatever he's done, what I'm doing is
just as bad.

As bad as murder?

Well, suppose he's deceiving me.

I'm deceiving him. You know, we're both
getting into a relationship where we're

lying to each other. How can I behave
normally?

You want out.

There is a problem, sir.

If Jackie Taylor disappears overnight,
then Greg could smell a rat.

Any future operation might be
discovered.

Oh, you two have got this sewn up,
haven't you?

Yes.

Name?

Greg Martin and Jackie Taylor.

Upper hair or lower hair?

I really don't mind.

You look rather like lower hair type.

Trench one.

Girged by theme.

Trench five.

Plunged into boiling pitch.

So what happens in trenches two, three
and four? You get your heads twisted

to front.

How's your drink?

I'm feeling slightly underdressed.

Sorry.

Are you sure you feel up to this?

Alex is one of those people you don't
turn down an invitation from.

His father's Lord Fleming.

Oh, you're looking for a knight?

Look, he's one of my oldest school
friends.

Come on.

For dance.

Oh, have you spotted him yet?

I don't recognize anyone.

Happy anniversary.

It's time last week I met you.

What's going on?

It's Alex.

He's supposed to be getting into his
costume. He's been in there half an hour

and the door's jammed. Let me.

Alex?

Alex?

Maybe he's got somebody in there.

He better not have.

Somebody get an ambulance.

went into the room?

I did.

Name?

Greg Martin.

How well did you know the victim?

I was at school with him.

Shouldn't you be asking some youthful
questions?

And shouldn't you be stopping people
leaving the building?

We know our job.

What's your name?

Taylor.

Jackie Taylor.

Why aren't you stopping people going
upstairs?

What did you arrive in?

A flying saucer?

Greg, it's a wind -up.

Yo, I have risen from the dead.

The party continues.

Enjoy.

Greg.

Great sense of humour, Alex. Just great.
Greg, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were

coming. We sent out the invitations,
honestly.

Greg!

Greg! Stop the car, please.

How did you know they weren't real?

It was just little details.

Always the detective.

What do you mean?

Well, your job.

You know, research.

It's like being a detective, isn't it?

It's not the same thing.

I'm sorry.

I don't expect this is what you wanted
to hear.

We had no expectation.

It's just that I don't believe he did
it. I don't believe he knows anything

about it.

Because he charmed you?

Because I've been in his company solidly
for a week.

If Greg didn't do it, it means that
former girlfriend is lying.

Greg said that she was jealous and
possessive. I mean, maybe she had reason

lie. Jackie, don't be fooled by him.

Is it possible you've all got your minds
set about this?

That you've convinced yourself that Greg
did it so much that you can't see past

him? Is it possible you've convinced
yourself so much that you can't see

him?

If you want off this case, just say so.

I don't think you want off the case.

Do you, Jackie?

No, sir.

Yeah.

I wonder if I would be better taking the
red one.

What do you think, Mr Brodie?

Oh, no.

I'll stick with what I've got.

There you are.

That's two pounds, please.

Oh, my, that lantern's lovely.

You're awfully artistic, Mr Brodie.

That's two pounds, please.

Only have five, I'm afraid.

The nights of fear drawn in new, as we
see.

Thank you.

Well, I'll see you all then.

Cheerio.

Joining us tomorrow, Greg.

I don't know.

I understand if you can't.

I really do. It's just, well, there's a
few of us left.

You don't have to take part.

I have to chuck.

Wouldn't be the same without you.

They're not going to let us down again,
Greg, eh?

Not this time.

Okay, so I lied.

I did it to get back at him.

He said I was jealous, possessive. But
he gave me plenty of reason to be.

He told me to get out of his life.

I thought that he must have met somebody
else. So I wanted him locked away where

he couldn't... What?

Where he couldn't look at other girls?

I wanted to teach him a lesson.

Some lesson?

See, you told us a pack of lies about
him confessing to his father's murder,

knowing you could give evidence in court
under oath.

Never thought that far ahead.

Look, I'm sorry.

Oh, it's you.

What?

I thought you were trick -or -treaters.

You ready for tomorrow?

Almost. You can help me finish the
table.

What's that rubbish you're listening to?

You'll damage your brain.

That's some circle.

It's originally from the Lesser Key of
Solomon.

It's in the Grimoire.

Oh, come on, give us a hand.

Could you not get any women to take
part?

To lie naked on an altar for you to have
your wicked way with?

It's not about that, Derek.

It's about knowledge.

Higher levels of thought.

Power over women.

Everyone. Pelts and teachers, too.
Anything you want.

With Satan as your master, you can ask
for anything.

Like how to get out of one poxy's
bedsit.

Well, get there is where there is.

We should never have told her how
valuable this was.

We should have done ourselves a favour
rather than doing her one.

I'll be glad when the day comes you just
take a tablet.

Life isn't that simple.

Oh, by the way, Jackie rang.

She's expecting you for dinner around
eight.

Great, right.

I won't be home tomorrow night. I'll be
staying at the farm. Pete's having a

sort of party and he's invited me.

Don't lie to me, Greg. I'm not stupid.

I want to show you something.

I got it at auction about a month ago.

Yes, I've seen it already. Listen to me.

It's a Grimoire.

Probably late 18th century.

It was written by some magician who
wanted to conjure up demons.

I want you to do something for me.

Burn it.

You can't be serious. I've never been
more serious.

Burn it.

Well, haven't you got a customer who
specialises in this sort of thing?

Yes, but I don't want anyone to see it
or read it or use it.

Why don't you burn it?

I don't like burning money.

Did you catch the rat?

I caught it.

So tell me about Samantha.

Why do women always have to know?

Well, she was just after two things.

My money and my body.

And what makes you think I'm not?

Well, you're different from all the
rest.

See, I... I love you for your brain.

Your, um... Uh -huh.

Your personality.

Truly want me to go on? Mm -hm.

You've got lovely ears.

And what do you love about me?

The fact that you're still a little boy.

Why do you still live with your mother?

Well, it's home.

Little boys live at home.

Do you... Do you never get lonesome
living by yourself?

Sometimes. Jim?

Jackie.

Jackie?

It's past midnight.

I'm sorry, sir. I had to see you. What's
wrong?

Is it to do with this Greg Martin
business?

Yes, it's got something to do with him.
I knew it, Jim.

I knew it was a stupid scheme from the
beginning.

Now, you listen to me.

I've got something very important to
tell you.

Samantha McDowell lied.

She lied?

Greg never confesses to her or to
anybody else.

And Jackie's had to go through all this
for nothing.

Goodness,

I've caught you. You must think I'm
dreadful always coming in at the last

like this.

But after I saw your lantern yesterday,
I decided I just had to hook him on his

knees.

I hope I'm not keeping you back again.

You going to a party tonight, Mr Brodie?

No, me and a pile of hoping an old
friend's going to drop in. Oh, that'll

nice.

I always think it's lovely when people
just...

Good night then.

Enjoy your looking for apples.

Get sick!

It's off.

Nothing.

Hello, Mike.

Stephen.

There's a deep wound on his head that
wasn't caused by the action of the heat.

Slightly curved.

Could be the head of a hammer.

Any idea who he is?

Well, the person who owns the shop is a
Donald Brodie.

He's a Satanist.

He was interviewed as a matter of
routine after the James Martin murder.

Satanist?

Right night for it.

What do you mean?

Halloween.

Hellfire.

She's compromised, sir.

Just great.

Now, when she gives evidence against
him, she'll get blasted clean out of the

witness box.

It gets even worse, sir.

The ex -girlfriend was lying.

Are you saying that Reid is in there for
no better reason than a gut feeling

that he did it?

That's about it.

We are going to get our bollocks chewed
off over this.

Well, you better saw mine on first,
because Jean had them last night.

What are we doing tonight?

I thought we could go for a meal.

Nice out.

Sorry, Jackie, I can't tonight. I'm
going down to the farm. But I'll be back

the morning.

I promised the boys.

You know how it is. Boys' night out.

I'll call you in the morning. We'll fix
something up, huh?

OK, I'll speak to you tomorrow then.

Have fun.

Wesley's big night.

People accidentally believe in this
stuff.

Who are you?

Police. Who are you?

Derek. Derek Skimming.

How's Donald?

He's dead.

Let's hope he's in a better place

Go

on

I met him last March.

Through the black hand.

Uh -huh.

It's a magazine for... Satanists.

Aye.

Well, Donald wrote an angry column for
it.

You know, people that have problems.

I wrote him asking about a coven I could
join.

And he contacted me and says that I
could join his.

And how many were in his?

Just him and me.

Donald used to belong to the Coven of
the Dark Raven.

Yeah, we know about that.

He left them because then if you were
serious enough, he wasn't into blood

sacrifices and orgies and things like
that.

So what was he into?

Knowledge.

He called himself an intellectual
satanist.

Last April the 30th, Valpurgis Night.

That's the date on your calendar, isn't
it?

Yeah. Do you remember it?

What?

Last April.

What were you doing?

Don't know me.

Derek, do you have a problem with the
English language?

What were you doing?

We... We conjured up the devil.

What did he look like?

He never put in an appearance.

Do you know anything about the murder of
James Martin that night?

I don't know anything about any murder.

But you know who he was.

I don't know anything about any murder,
Luke.

My parents would kill me if they found
out about this.

The Baptists.

Hello, Greg?

No, it's clear.

Good.

What made you think it was Greg?

Well, he's the only one with this
number.

So what is it you're wanting?

Has Greg ever mentioned the names Donald
Brodie or Derek Skimming to you?

No, I don't think so.

Neither of them? You're sure?

Yes, I'm sure.

It's just that Brodie's one of our local
black magicians.

He was burnt to death tonight in his
greengrocer shop.

And anything else?

No. So you're off out tonight?

No, I'm just going to go to my bed. I've
got a bit of a headache.

Oh, OK then.

Bye -bye.

Mind if you start me off here?

Sure. I'll walk the rest of the way,
thanks.

Word of advice, Derek.

Don't go meddling in things you don't
understand.

There are real dangers.

So you do believe that there's a deal
with them?

Well, I believe there's a God.

You can't believe in one side and not
believe in the other.

Goodnight.

What? What? What?

What is this?

What is this?

All right, let's knock.

Who's there?

Tom and Sandy.

Who told you to come?

The devil himself.

What way did he tell you to come?

For the hooks and the crooks are arose.

What's the tender of the oath?

Healed, concealed, and never revealed.

Neither right, nor right, nor right in
sin.

Lead in the novice by the crooks and
Sandy.

bear his left foot.

Take the sacraments, place them on the
altar.

Take care of this in the morning.

Okay. Okay. Good night, sir.

Night, John.

I caught you.

This Martin business.

Sir?

Find me one piece of evidence against
him which justifies our keeping Reed in

there or bring her out.

Have I got a time limit, sir? 48 hours.

I've given Michael his head on this one,
sir.

Well, let him have his head.

But don't be afraid to crack it.

Good night.

Night.

Neither right.

Nor indict.

Neither write nor indict.

Cut it or carve it.

Cut it or carve it. Or wave a finger in
the air to any but a true horseman. Or

wave a finger in the air to any but a
true horseman. If I fail to keep these

promises, may my throat be cut from ear
to ear with a horseman's knife.

If I fail to keep these promises.

With my throat we come from ear to ear
with the horse's name.

Take the sacrament.

Now, Sandy, the word.

You've been given the word.

Now write it.

Neither write nor indict it, Sammy.

It's time now, Sandy.

Time to shake hands with old Horny.

Thank you.

Shake hands with old Horny, Sandy.

Jackie!

Jackie, come on!

Daddy, please!

I'm waiting! Daddy, listen!

Listen to me! Daddy, listen, please!
It's not what you think!

Just listen, please!

It's an initiation ceremony, that's all.

I went through it myself when I was 16.

Probably older than Freemasonry.

The horseman's word is passed down to
initiates who then become horsemen.

It's a way of protecting the past,
that's all.

Do you expect me to believe that?

It's true.

It's a symbol.

The brotherhood between man and horse.

It's almost died away, but a few remote
farms would keep it alive.

So what's the horseman's word then?

We're sworn never to reveal it. It's
part of the ritual.

See those scars?

Tom gave me those.

I was taken to this graveyard to meet
the devil.

Wow. I knew it was a guy in a costume
straight away.

He was terrified.

Terrified out of his skin.

All right, you lot, come on, let's get
off the bed.

I promise

you this has nothing whatsoever to do
with black magic.

What do you think I would want now?

Trick -or -treat, mister.

Go home to your bed, you pair of
beggars.

That was Margaret McIntyre on the phone.

She's just had trick -or -treaters at
the door and they've put slime all over

her windows.

Well, what do you want me to do about
that?

Well, they've been going round all the
neighbourhood, Jim, playing tricks on

everybody. Oh, they're just kids.

They don't even bother to dress up
nowadays.

They just come begging at the doors.

In our days, we used to dress up as
geysers. We used to go out and sing

say poems, and we were pleased if we got
a penny.

There was two of them outside.

That's them, Jim. That's them.

Well, they've gone now.

Go out and check.

Please, Jim.

Gene!

Go away.

Do you realize what time it is? Go on.

Greg?

I was so

scared.

You could have killed him, Mum.

To leave me alone tonight, the whole
night, to go off and play your stupid

childish games. They're not childish.

Do you think they'll report me?

Who do you think the police will have
more sympathy with? They broke in, Greg.

They broke in. I know, I know.

Jackie came down to the farm tonight.

She didn't trust me.

I can't say I blame her.

I told her everything.

What do you think I should do?

Do you love her?

Yes.

Well, you don't need my advice, do you?

Hello?

48 hours. It's impossible.

I'm sorry, Mike.

We could be so close.

Close to me having a nervous breakdown.

Do we know where this came from yet?

Only that it's a photocopy of an
original.

We can see it's a photocopy. What do you
think we are, blind?

It's called a grimoire.

It sets out the rules of conjuration of
demons and spirits.

Some of them go back centuries.

Black magicians used them.

Well, some loony has got the original.

And I want to know who he is.

I'll get it, Mum.

Hello? Hello, Derek. Michael Jordan.

I'm just off to school.

Meet me tonight.

Just a few more questions.

I'll pick you up in the corner where I
dropped you off.

There, six o 'clock.

Oh, and...

I've got something for you.

Okay. Bye, then.

Bye, Mum.

I'm sorry.

I should have told you what was going
on.

What?

That you were spending the night with a
secret brotherhood of horse lovers?

Um, this tells you something about it.

Page 47 explains everything.

Derek! Sorry, I thought you were
somewhere else.

Bit early for bonfire now, is it not?

Something set on fire.

His lungs are full of soot particles and
there's an identical fracture to the

skull.

If you want my opinion, he was mocked
unconscious, dragged to the bonfire...

burned alive.

Yes, that's about it.

Should have gone to his house.

What was that?

Find the guy. A Dominican father. He's
performed exorcisms and studied medical

texts.

Make sure this never leaves his side.

Well, do him a lot of good now. Just
make sure it stays with him.

Fascinating.

Quite fascinating.

Early 19th century, I'd say.

Some of the demons are remarkably
derivative of Blake's.

Could be Blake's. Blake?

William Blake, the artist and poet.

He was also a mystic.

It's well known that he involved himself
in raising demons, which he saw as

fallen spirits awaiting redemption.

At least he was a good theologian.

How valuable would the original be?

I'm not concerned with the value of
these things, only with stopping them

getting into the wrong hands.

Okay. Where might the original be?

A museum?

With a private collector?

I'm sorry I can't be more helpful.

No, you've helped enough.

These things have been copied,
plagiarised by so -called devotees of

art.

You really think they're that dangerous?

I've helped people who have destroyed
their minds with texts like these.

I had one came up at auction earlier
this year.

I'd have bid for it myself, if only for
the pleasure of burning it.

Auction? Where?

In Glasgow.

He's so sweet.

Greg's going to be a rich man because of
his father's death.

And when I die, he'll get this house.

He'll probably turn it into a nightclub
or do something stupid like that.

Money's always been a plaything to Greg.

I'm not interested in this money, Mrs
Martin.

I know you're not.

Please don't insult me by thinking I
can't see that.

There's something about you, though, I
don't quite believe.

What's that?

You seem too good to be true.

All Greg's previous girlfriends, and
there have been many, have never had

between the ears.

Marriage to Greg won't be easy.

He's never quite grown up, you see.

He was in business with his father.

Greg had no head for business.

But you do.

That's why I think you're right for him.

He needs a strong woman.

Greg Martin?

Mum?

These gentlemen are from the police.

They want to talk to you.

Me?

Chief Inspector Taggart.

Inspector Jardine.

Good afternoon.

This is Jackie Taylor, my son's fiancée.

I'm sorry, Jackie, do you mind?

No, no, of course.

Because that's what she wants.

Well, even they look surprised.

Did they?

Oh.

Do you mind telling us, Mrs. Marsden,
how that came to be in Donald Brodie's

flat?

I gave it to him.

Why?

I took the original to him for his
professional opinion.

He was something of an expert in his
matter. And, uh...

What was his professional opinion?

That it was possibly an unpublished
William Blake.

He was an English artist and mystic.
Yeah, we know who Blake is.

We have experts of our own.

Blake probably used it for his own
amusement.

If amusement is the right word.

Brodie said he wanted to buy it, but he
couldn't afford what I would ask, so I

gave him a photocopy.

he'd have cut off his right arm for the
original.

Where's that?

Burnt.

Two weeks later, my husband was murdered
by people who probably used these

things.

I couldn't bring myself to sell it or
keep it.

Did, uh...

Did you ever meet a friend of his called
Derek Skimming?

Briefly.

What? Mrs. Martin, why did you not say
anything about this to the investigating

officers five months ago?

Why do you think?

Fiancé is a strong word, Jackie.

It wasn't mine.

Well, she wouldn't have used it if you
hadn't given her some reason. From now

on, Jackie Taylor ceases to exist. I'm
getting that flat stripped.

You never go back there again.

Are you listening to me?

You asked me to find proof of his guilt.

Let me prove he's innocent.

Say it loud.

Call that D.

She refuses.

What am I supposed to do, sir?

Put her in chains.

I even mentioned the word suspension.

That had no effect.

You've given too many people their head
on this one, Jim.

We know who killed James Martin and
Brodie and Skimming.

Who's going to tell Jackie?

Greg, hon, we're here.

What do you want?

We need to talk to your mother again.
There's no answer.

Can you let us in?

Jackie, here.

It's all over, Jack.

We found this in Skimmy's school bag.

Diagram of the house.

Shores the cellar.

Mrs. Martin wanted her husband killed
and hired Skimmy and Brodie to do it.

It must have become a dangerous... Mom!

Mum! Mum!

You bitch.

I'm so sorry.

My God, I proposed to a policewoman.

Listen, Greg.

I put my job on the line. Oh, don't give
me that. You proved your innocence.

And now it's over?

What do you do?

Move on to the next case, find someone
else, pretend to fall in love with him.

I didn't pretend.

You know what is really rich?

If Mum had asked me to, I would have
killed Dad and Brodie and Skimming.

I love you, Craig.

Are you going to spend your leave?

Doesn't that?

Look, Jackie, I'm sorry.

You know this school... Michael, I just
want to be left alone.

You'd better take this.

Where did you get it?

Greg gave it to me.

His mother wanted him to burn it and he
couldn't bring himself to do it.

He just never wants to see it again.

It belongs in a museum.

I mean, you don't want some misfit
getting a hold of it. I don't know.

Could be worth a lot to some collector.

Still a valuable document.

Was a valuable document.

I'll get a cloth.

Michael, I want another post -mortem on
Lavinia Martin's body today.

It was suicide.

A massive coronary caused by an overdose
of insulin. I want a special screening.

Drugs. The lot.

Lavinia Martin told us that Brodie would
cut his right arm off to get a hold of

this.

What did she give him for murdering her
husband?

A worthless photocopy.

What do you want me to do?

Nothing I can manage

Look,

I've got a funeral to arrange Do you
want something to eat?

No

Later.

Made an old police station.

DCI Taggart, please.

He's not here, I'm afraid.

No, it doesn't matter. Just listen to
me.

Could you tell him that I've found
something at Rowan Mount that I...

So, Jackie... Are you there?

Hello? Detective Sergeant Reid.

Hello, are you there?

Have you worked it out?

Your parents hang onto things for too
long.

I was gonna kill Mum the same night as I
killed Dad, but... But

she went out.

So I set up Brody and Skimming and
arranged for her suicide.

Far bit you it's in her bedtime drink
Like

a baby she didn't feel anything And then
I just pumped her full of

insulin

Don't

cry Jackie

Don't, don't, don't do that. Come on,
shush.

No, shush.

No, no, shush.

Please, shush.

Oh, Jack.

Oh, God.

Oh, God, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Jacket!

Jacket!

Jacket!

You and your bodge, Jackie.

City life is strange. You take your
share of the good times and bad.

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