All language subtitles for Patience.S01E01.Paper.Mountain.Girl.Part.1.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-RAWR_Track03

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Oi, you heard of
a queue?

Hey, excuse me.

I need to make a withdrawal.

Just a second, Sir.

Sir...

anything I can help you with?

I need eight thousand pounds.

Now.

Argh!

Argh! Argh!

Ah!

Hi, you can go in.

You asked to see me, Sir.

Yeah, can you, er, jump on this?

Just take a quick look.

I...I thought Uniform already h.

Yeah, and now I'm asking you to.

It's a... death by misadventure.

What, you can tell that from
the first page?

With respect, Sir,
he set himself alight

in broad daylight.

Look, it's a very, um...
unusual MO.

He's a Rotarian,

he plays bridge with
the Chief Constable's husband.

- Ah.
- I just wanna make

doubly certain we're not
missing anything.

Mm.

What did Baxter want?
Well, it's suicide.

I know, right? I'm off to
the mortuary.

- Alright.
- Ma'am...

I was asked to cue up the CCTV

on the Chopra case
for you to review.

Er, this is from the rooftop
camera.

That's enough.

No one else within a mile.
- Case closed.

Ah, DCI Baxter was
very specific, Ma'am,

that someone should go
through it all.

And that someone is you,
DC Akbari.

What, every last frame?

What's the running time of this

charming little snuff movie?

It's more than ninety hours
of footage.

You're gonna need an awful lot
of popcorn.

Go on, be a good boy,

boss might bring you something
nice back

from the mortuary.

Oh, hang on.

You won't get far without these.

Thanks.

Do you have a minute?

I said, do you have a minute?

Er, well, my bus is due, so...

I see you waiting here
most mornings.

I say to myself,
“She looks nice,

ask her out.”

- Okay.
- So...

I just did.

You just... you just did what?

Asked you out.

For a drink.

Oh, I don't drink alcohol,

if that's what you meant.

A coffee, then?

No, well, you shouldn't actually
drink coffee

‘cause the roasting process
produces acrylamide,

which is a known carcinogen, so.

What's your number?

What?

Oh, it's, um, zero seven,
seven, zero, zero,

nine, zero, zero, eight,
six, eight,

but I don't actually answer

if there's no caller ID

‘cause I hate surprises, um...

Ah, well, you've got your
minute.

Have you seen Dr. Parsons?

She went for lunch.

Hmm, already had yours?

You try eating soup
with a bone saw.

Is that who I think it is?

Wife of our self-immolator
in the car park.

She insisted on seeing him.

Here you go.

That's very kind of you.

Sure you don't mind if I ask
a few questions?

I just wish there was
something useful

I could think of to tell you.

Had Dr. Chopra been having
any problems?

Any professional difficulties?

Not that I was aware of.

Even so, as a doctor...

He was a psychiatrist.

He must've had to deal with
a lot of dark stuff.

Perhaps it took its toll.

A few years back,
he had a bit of a crisis.

Went into his shell for a while.

But this last year or so,

quite the opposite.

I've never known him so happy.

So outwardly sunny.

Our son got married last month.

And Aadesh was the life
and soul.

He was thinking of
early retirement,

about using a lump sum
from his pension

as a deposit on a second home.

Making plans for the future.

Here you go.

So...

no unusual patterns of behavior,

nothing that sticks out?

Nothing.

Except the cash, I suppose.

What cash?

He took £8,000 from the bank

on the morning...

well, you know.

Your colleagues at the scene

couldn't find any trace of it.

and that's un... out of
the ordinary, is it,

for him to have that amount
of cash?

Aadesh was obsessive about
air miles.

He paid for everything using
a credit card

with a reward scheme.

-Hi, got a minute?
- Yeah.

Hey. Do you remember that other
suicide, another shrink,

a couple of years back?

That new hotel by the station?

- No.
- Come on, you do.

That brain of yours is like
an encyclopedia of crime

within ten miles of
the city center.

It wasn't a shrink.

He'd stopped practicing,

and it's hardly a new hotel,

you've been married and divorced

in the time that that's
been open.

Name?

What was his name, Jake?

Jamieson.

Neal Jamieson, with an A.

Jesus, do you ever stop?

It's bulking season,
you should try it.

I'll stick with mine,
ham and cheese.

- Hmm.
- There we go.

Jamieson took six grand in cash
out of his account

less than three hours before
his estimated time of death,

and it was never found.
- Well, he slit his wrists

in a bath, boss,
behind a locked door.

It says he killed himself
less than 24 hours

after his wife gave birth
to their first child.

- So?
- So, it's... totally unexpected.

Just like with Dr Chopra.

It's always unexpected
to someone.

You know we've got enough
real crime

to be cracking on with?

Too late.

I've just requested
the Jamieson file

from Paper Mountain.

Just, er, leave the file, thanks.

Um, did you know that you're
wearing odd socks?

Oh.

My bra and pants
don't match either.

Hey.

Brought me the wrong file.

Hi, um, the young woman
who was helping me...

That would be Miss Evans.

Ah, um, she brought a file
I didn't request.

Oh, it's not the first time.

Which is a point I shall
be emphasizing

when I make my complaint
to her line manager.

No, I wanna keep it.

Then you'll need to fill out
a form.

Where do I sign?

Online submissions only,
I'm afraid.

But I've already got it.

I don't make the rules.

Can I speak to her... Miss Evans?

I'd advise you to email.

Her name's Patience.

And it'll take every ounce of
yours to deal with her.

I'm sorry I can't do any more
for you, I'm afraid.

Ca...

Patience?

You sh... you shouldn't be here,

it's authorized personnel only.

- Don't worry.
- No.

I know who you are.

You're Detective Inspector
Beatrice Metcalf.

Beatrice is an awful mouthful.

My friends just call me Bea.

Right, well, I'm not
your friend,

and you still shouldn't be
back here.

I just have a quick question,

about the Brendan Clark file,

the one you brought me
by mistake.

I don't make mistakes.

There were matching patterns
in the data.

You mean the cash that Jamieson
and Clark

both took out before they died?

That, and other things, yeah.

Like what?

That Clark was also
a psychiatrist?

Mm. He was a child psychiatrist.

Probably just coincidence.

And Jamieson had
stopped practicing.

Hmm, nope.

They both died on a Friday.

On the fourth day of the month.

So did Aadesh Chopra.

Clark had just signed
a book deal.

Seemed like he had every reason
to live,

same as Chopra and Jamieson.

You saying these men didn't
kill themselves?

I'm saying something
feels off, Sir.

The missing cash,

the exact same day and dates,

the... similar professions.

Okay, spare me the intuition
for once.

Just give me some facts,
something I can

give the Chief Constable.

The CCTV from the car park

shows Aadesh Chopra died

by his own hand,
it's... plain as day, Sir.

Hm, well, close the file.

Inspector?

The bank manager's
testimony, Sir,

it's bothering me.

She thought Chopra seemed under
the influence of something,

glassy-eyed, bit out of it.

Mm, I might need a stiff drink

if I was preparing to
set myself on fire.

Sorry to interrupt,

but your son's school's on
the phone, DI Metcalf.

Oh.

Has he been in a fight again?

You've just forgotten to
pick him up.

Oh, bugger.
- Go on.

Miss Page!

I'm so sorry.

You're more than an hour late,
Miss Metcalf,

we rang Alfie's father,
he's just picked him up.

Ah. It won't happen again,
I...I promise.

Miss Metcalf.

Miss Metcalf!

We need to talk about
his behavior.

I know, yeah. I know.

He's acting up again,
being very disruptive.

I'll make an appointment.

You missed our last one.

I'll call tomorrow,
reschedule it.

Two nights a week,
you can't even manage that.

I'm so, so sorry.
I...I got tied up in something.

You think you're the only one
whose work's important?

- I...I said I'm sorry.
- So, what now?

Supposed to just hand him
back over and suck it up?

Look, Dad, Thursday's a Mum day,

and I get burger and a milkshake
and YouTube

when I finish my homework.

On a school night?

Bye, Dad.

See you, kid.

And you wonder why
I got custody.

Alright, bub?

Right.

Come on.

Okay.

Hello?

Is this, er,
DI Beatrice Metcalf?

This is DI Metcalf speaking.

Er, this is, er, Patience Evans,

we met earlier today,

I...

...earlier today. I, um...

I have more information for you.

No, I have some more...

useful information for you.

Okay.

Mum?

You know Dreadnoughtus?
- Mm-hmm.

It was taller than
a double decker bus

and twice the length of one.

Ah...

you don't say.

Hey!

Not cool.

Oh.

Here.

Okay.

I can be useful.

I can be useful.

I can be useful.

Yes?

I don't have a yes.

Who is this?

- Er...
- Hello?

Hello?

- Mum...
- What?

You forgot to say no gherkins.

- Oh, sorry, bub.
- Hate flipping gherkins.

Alfie, no.

Stop that.

Chips.

You absolutely sure
you need both of them?

Yes.

It's... it's wise to be prepared

in case one breaks.

Spoke to Maynard today.

Oh, Mr. Alistair
John Maynard?

Your boss, yeah.

Yeah, bumped into him
in the supermarket,

quite by chance.

Between the baked beans
and the biscuits.

Yeah, he was very complimentary
about you, Patience.

I said you were working hard,
keeping your head down.

Yep. -Although he did say

you'd been having difficulties
with a colleague.

er, someone who's complained, apparently.

About you interfering in
a police investigation?

It's... it's our... it's our job
to help the police.

Yep, yep. Quite right.

But, um, I'm not sure

actively directing
the evidence trail

is what your father had in mind

when he told you that.

I just don't want you getting
involved in something

that might leave you burnt out.

Unable to cope.

Goodnight, Mr. Gilmore.

Night.

You're 52 minutes late.

You're supposed to be here
at 9 according to the rota.

Er, no one pays
much attention to that.

What's the point in
having it, then?

Is there a reason you've opted
to come and pester me

and not some other
poor detective?

I filed all your cases,
DI Metcalf, um,

and your deductive leaps
of logic can be haphazard,

and your notes are cursory,

but your clear-up rate
is 71.3 percent,

which is the best in the county.

It'll be even higher
when I close

the file on Aadesh Chopra.

Was he intoxicated?

You what?

Aadesh Chopra,
was he intoxicated

at the time of his death?

Under an influence
of a narcotic?

And why would you ask me that?

Here.

Err... hang on. Sorry.

-Morning.
-Morning.

Morning.

Patience... where'd you get this?

Um, it was... it was in
the Brendan Clark file.

Not when I looked, it wasn't.

Well, the file contains
259 pages of A4 text,

and you spent 73 minutes
studying them

according to our logging system,

which equates to 17 seconds
per page.

So, this bicycle courier,

he delivered the proofs of
Brendan Clark's book

to him in person
an hour before he died?

Yeah, and it was reported that
he seemed confused

and that his pupils
were dilated.

Then he may have been drugged,

perhaps Chopra as well, so what?

Well, I...I've found links
to other cases.

- Possible links.
- Probable links.

Perhaps you could summarize.

Um...a... according to
the Police National Database

there are several crimes
relating to individuals

who were under the influence
of scopolamine.

- Sc... scopolo what?
- Scopolamine.

It's a tropane alkaloid,

it's usually administered as
a powder,

but in the right dosage,
it can induce

a suggestive state in the victim

and persuade them to act
against their own will,

and even harm themselves.

It can also induce memory loss

and even psychosis.

There was no mention of
anything like that

in Jamieson's post-mortem
report, or Clark's,

from what I can remember.

Yeah, in both cases

the toxicology tests
weren't taken

until four days after
the victims' death.

That's not ideal.

Although, not unheard of.

Well, scopolamine is typically

only dedicated in bodily fluids

for up to 72 hours,
often far less.

Come on, I need you to tell
all this to the pathologist.

Well, er...

I've... I've not planned for tha,

I...I can't be late for work.

This takes precedence over

photocopying at Paper Mountain.

Well, it's not called that,
it's called

the Home Office
Large Major Enquiry System,

or HOLMES for short.

Whatever you say, Sherlock.

No touching, please.

Oh, okay, come on.

I beg your pardon?

It's a powerful intoxicant.

It can render people
suggestible.

I know what scopolamine is,
Inspector,

and I know what it does,

I just don't know who or what

has led you to believe
it might be

in Dr. Chopra's system.

Erm, Miss Evans
is a valued member

of the HOLMES team, Dr. Parsons.

Oh.

Not a forensic specialist, then.

This is the preliminary
tox report.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Er, well, scopolamine has
a half-life

of just over nine hours, and...

it's practically undetectable

in the blood or urine after
a short time.

I mean, if it's inhaled through
the mouth or nose, however,

which is often the case,

it can be detectable

in the respiratory tracts.

Um, are these rib shears,
Dr. Parsons?

Thankfully, Chopra's body

wasn't too badly burnt
to take a sample.

We found 17 micrograms
in his airways.

Except there might be some
innocent explanation.

Scopolamine is present in

seasickness tablets,
for example.

And this is that zombie drug, right?

I thought that were
an urban myth.

There are more than 50,000 cases

of scopolamine poisoning

found in the public health
system in Colombia

every year, isn't that right,
Patience?

Apologies.

Alright, so...
so this is something

that happens to rich kids
on their gap year?

I've only ever heard of victims
in the UK

being dosed with Rohypnol
or GHB.

What about
the other cases

Patience has researched?

There was some old biddy

in Torquay who got drugged

and forced to take money
out of the cashpoint

by her... carer?

Can you summarize, Patience?

Patience?

Patience?

Patience?

The doctor, he's talking to you.

How long has this been going on,

this refusal to speak?

I think it's a reaction
to being here.

She's a bit more communicative
at home.

Oh, what do you talk about,
at home?

Um...

my cases, mainly.

She seems to have developed
a morbid fascination

with police work.

Have you given any more thought

to what I said?

There's no way I'd agree
to that.

Retarded speech function.

Difficulties with social
interaction.

A lack of emotional reciprocity.

Sporadic catatonia.

I believe your daughter
may be showing

early symptoms of...

pediatric schizophrenia,
Mr. Evans.

She may need to be hospitalized,

whether you like it or not.

Look, don't be too hard
on yourself.

It may even be a kindness
to put her

into psychiatric care.

It's unlikely she'll ever
be able

to live independently.

Or be what we could call a...

‘useful' member of society.

Patience?

Patience?

Um...

uh... uh...

Are you alright?

I...

Should someone go after her?

I...just... just let her be.

Er, how are you feeling?

Are you just being polite or
do you really want to know?

Oh, I wanna know.

I was worried about you.

You... you seemed in
a bit of a state.

I was overwhelmed, I...
become overwhelmed

in unfamiliar circumstances
and settings.

Maybe a beer might help.

No, I don't drink alcohol.

I read that it can lead to
psychomotor issues

and exacerbate negative
neuro-cognitive traits.

I thought... we could just,

you know, get to know
each other.

I mean, I already know
who you are,

you're Detective Inspector
Beatrice Metcalf.

Never mind.

Can I give you a lift?

No, I...I...I can't be late,
I hate being late.

I can use the siren
if we hit traffic.

Bye.

Hello. Hi, hi, er, welcome, er,
feel free to take a seat,

we're just about to start.

Help yourself to water

and there's snacks on
the table as well.

Okay.

Righty-ho.

Hiya.

Welcome, everyone,

to our autistic adults
support group,

or AA for short.

Not to be confused, obviously,

with Alcoholics Anonymous

who have the space
on Wednesdays.

Sorry, er...

it's always a pleasure

to see a new face among us.

Perhaps I can...

I can ask you for
an introduction?

Just how you identify yourself.

Are you diagnosed autistic

or self-diagnosed, maybe, or...?

None of the above, I'm...

here for someone else.

No, no, of course, great.

Well, family members and friends

are always welcome here.

Right.

Maya, I think we were talking
about...

your situation at work
the other day.

Do you wanna...

do you wanna continue with that?

At work,
I'm masking continually.

I have to take myself off
to hide in the toilet

to avoid burning out
or having a meltdown.

It's like...
- One of the women I work with...

Sorry, sorry.

One of the women I work with,

she showed me some photos,

she asked me if I liked her dog.

And the only thing I could
think of to say was,

“It's better looking than
your baby.”

At least your colleagues
interact with you.

Most of the time,
in my workplace,

people ignore me,

or they speak to me like
I'm stupid.

Hey, you have a...
an Open University degree

in accounting and finance, Theo.

Yeah, but I have a job
in the post room.

So, maybe I am stupid.

I often wonder if I should
reveal my diagnosis,

or risk being overwhelmed
in situations

where others may not understand

what I'm experiencing.

But why is the onus always on us

to declare our condition?

To make ourselves stand out

as if there's something shameful

about being neurologically
a-typical.

Josie?

Do you wanna say something?

Um, my son's on his fifth
school in six years.

Teachers can't handle him.

Oh, it's hard to imagine him
ever having a job.

Or colleagues.

Let alone worrying about people

being kind to him.

Yeah.

Urgh.

What?

Nothing.

Come on.

It's okay.

There we go.

I was just wondering if you'd
finished your assignment?

Oh.

This doesn't look much like
homework.

It's a nine-dot puzzle.

What's that?

It's where you have to join
all the dots together

in just four lines without
your hand leaving the page.

Mm.

Oh.

Even babies can do it.

I've only had one go.

By the way, did Baxter
get hold of you?

He was looking for you
last night after you left.

He left me a voicemail.

What did he want?

An update on the Chopra case
and to ask why

I appear to have co-opted
somebody

from the criminal records
department

onto the investigation
without his permission.

He didn't sound impressed.

Well, maybe he has a point.

Don't you start.

Well, is it a good idea getting
what's-her-face involved?

- What's-her-face?
- You know, Paper Mountain girl.

- She has a name, Jake.
- Sorry.

Miss Evans.

Do you have a problem with her?

No. No, course not, it's just...

Well, she's a civilian.

And...?

Not a trained detective,

or a forensic pathologist,
for that matter.

Patience is the only one
who's spotted

a pattern between those deaths.

A possible pattern.

Probable.

Well, say thank you very much
and move on.

Look, we've managed fine
without her.

Thank you.

You don't recall anything about
his behavior that day?

Anything out the ordinary?

Well, I'd say killing yourself

is somewhat out of the ordinary.

Yeah, we mean before that,

was he acting... strangely?

Like he was intoxicated.

It was a while back,
and to be honest,

I don't really like to
think about it.

You said Mr. Jamieson
stayed at the hotel

on more than half a dozen times

in the year before he died.
- Mm.

Yet he only lived a few miles
outside the city.

Doesn't that seem strange?

Maybe he worked late a lot.

Missed his last train home.
I really don't know.

Perhaps we might take a look at
the room where he died.

Okay. Yeah.

So, it is upstairs, room 1218.

Don't worry,
won't get too comfy.

It must've been cleaned hundreds
of times

since it happened.

Just wanna get a feel
for the place.

Oh.

It looks a bit like that
painting.

The Jackson Pollock?

- What's that?
- A cigar.

Half smoked, by the looks of it.

Wouldn't it have set off
the alarm?

Hi.

Erm, DI Metcalf,
City of York Police.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

- What's going on?
- Police.

We're looking in to a suicide
at the hotel a few years back.

Oh, that's why she's so
distressed.

The poor love.

She was there when
they found him.

We just wanna ask
a few questions.

You'd be better off
speaking to me.

Her English isn't the best.

Sure.

Seems a bit jumpy.

I think her student visa's
expired.

But we're CID, not Immigration.

Well, she had to give
fingerprints,

at the time, for forensics.
Freaked her out.

Were you here when
they found him?

I wasn't working.

But I recognized him.

From his photo in the paper.

You must see hundreds of guests
here every year,

what... what made him stand out?

We don't get that many regulars.
And he tipped well.

He kept missing his last train,

that's what your manager
reckons.

At three o'clock
in the afternoon?

I think we know what kind of
regular he was then.

Or maybe he was meeting
his wife.

For sex? In the afternoon?

Well, some people like to
spice things up.

What about the day he died?

She was still in hospital
after giving birth.

Yeah, but no one saw him
with anyone.

We should interview her.

I've gotta get back to
the station.

What's the hurry?

I've got a stack of burglary

reports to finish.

I'll give you a lift,

just do me a favor,

see what you can dig up
on that brand of cigars.

Alright, but I'm not promising
anything.

Okay, I'll do it.

We'd been trying for
eight years.

I think we'd just about
convinced ourselves

it wasn't going to happen.

So, how was your husband,
Mrs. Jamieson,

after Martha's birth?

Ecstatic.

At least he seemed so.

Neal was very tired,
we both were.

He said he was going back to
the house to sleep,

and he'd be back to see us both
in the evening.

And that's the last time
I saw him.

Alive, that is.

And, had... had you ever been to
the hotel?

Once, for drinks with friends.

But you never stayed there
with him?

- Are you sure?
- Definitely not.

Why do you ask?

Just something somebody said.

I...I thought the investigation
into Neal's death

was closed, Inspector.

It is.

I mean, it was.

So, what's this all about?

Neal Jamieson was treated
for sex addiction.

According to his wife,

he was a regular visitor
to sex workers

before she met him.

It's why he stopped practicing.

Er, boss, um...

She even told me he gave her
an STD

in the first year of marriage.

Insists it's why she
couldn't conceive.

Er, alright.

At least, that's what
she thinks.

Er, I need to tell you
something.

Of course, she's not a suspect,

she was in hospital
at the time of death,

but what with the missing cash,
- Boss...

and his history of addiction

it suggests he may have paid
someone for sex

shortly before he died,

which puts

quite a different spin
on things.

- Bea.
- What?

Look...

I really need to tell you
something.

Where is she?

Interview room.

Look...

boss, it was me.

And before you go tearing
into Baxter,

it was Will that found her
on the CCTV,

but it was me who reported it.

I thought you were on my side.

This girl, boss...

this young woman, boss, sh...

You're not seeing straight.

Hang on.

She was on camera,
on the roof of the car park,

less than 36 hours after Chopra
killed himself.

Well, visiting a crime scene
isn't a crime.

Yes, but it's a known pattern
of behavior

for a certain type of
perpetrator.

Look, it's not the only reason
we brought her in.

What else?

Loitering with intent to try
and be helpful?

Wasting police time
with intelligent theorizing?

We also looked into the case of
the other victim,

Brendan Clark.

She didn't tell us that he was
her psychiatrist as a child.

Or that he misdiagnosed her
with schizophrenia.

And he tried to pressurize
her father into

putting her into an institution.

And on a heavy regimen
of medication.

It's all in there.

It's a motive, Bea...

for murder, whatever way
you look at it.

You never stop to think why

she's got such an unhealthy
interest in this case?