Original subtitles

Whoa!

Ugh!

Shit!

You bleedin' idiot! You could have killed the pair of us!

You could have killed me, you moron!

- What are you talking about? - Take your hands off me.

Mr. bleeding Magoo. You don't belong on the road.

That's rich, coming from you, you little...

Eh!

What did you say?

It was my right of way!

Oh! King of the jungle reckons I'm not up to it, then, does he?

Not content with practically ripping the bonnet off my car,

he's now questioning my proficiency as a driver!

Proud of yourself, are you?

Taking the piss out of the handicapped?

Oh, had a little accident downstairs, have we?

Shock too much for you, were it?

- I'd leave it if I were... - Toothless old git!

♪ It's all right, it's okay ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter if you're old and gray ♪

♪ It's all right, I say it's okay ♪

♪ Listen to what I say ♪

♪ It's all right, doing fine ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine ♪

♪ It's all right, I say it's okay ♪

♪ We're getting to the end of the day ♪

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

Katie Briers.

Recorded back in '98 for magician Billy Carse's

television series "Magic Majestic."

Oh, Billy Carse. I remember him.

Mind you, I'm going back 30 years now.

"I got eyes in the back of my head."

Nice of you to fit us in, Gerry.

I was getting the bleedin' coffee.

Twice!

Inside job, was it?

Cappuccino, actually.

Do you want a little a sniff?

No, thank you.

The reason I'm wearing this coffee

is 'cause some pillock

tried to take the front end of me car off.

- What? - Then he has a go at me.

Shut up, Gerry. Go on, Brian.

Thank you.

Briers was one of four white-collar subjects

for one of Carse's experiments in illusion.

They were all hypnotized in a London hotel

and then flown out to the back of beyond

where they found themselves, well...

- Some kind of war game, innit? - Yeah.

Only that evening,

Katie Briers went home and murdered her husband, Raymond,

with a kitchen knife.

Aaah!

Found a few hours later by a friend

with the knife still in her hand.

Three weeks married.

March 2000, Briers was acquitted of murder.

The show was canceled, but there were no charges...

Although they did try and mount a manslaughter case

against the show's producer, one Lulu Quester.

Apparently, Katie Briers had been suffering

from a recent bout of depression

which the show's producer should have picked up on.

But the judge threw it out.

But what about the magician, Billy Carse?

Like I said. No charges.

British courts have always been loathe to find guilty

against so-called magicians in cases like this.

You can hardly blame them for that.

The only law on the statute book is some licensing act

which dates back to 1952.

Yeah, but he's got a point, Brian,

I mean, if this Katie Briers

put herself up for it in the first place.

Oh, I see. Asking for it, was she?

Do you know what, Gerry?

There's a middle-aged bloke in Taunton

who was regressed back to his childhood.

Years later, he can't step outside his own front door

without adult supervision.

He still acts and thinks like he's eight years old.

Him and half the male population.

So, what makes you think we'll get lucky this time?

Because we now have a precedent.

Yeah, 2001. A couple of years after the Briers case.

A mother of six fell into a suicidal depression

after going a couple of rounds with another stage hypnotist.

Only this time the High Court awarded her damages.

It was a landmark ruling.

Which opens up a possible charge

against Raymond Briers' real killer.

Oh. You mean Billy Carse?

No. Too late for him anyway.

After the Briers killing, Carse took himself off to Bucharest.

He'd seen Norman Wisdom making a fortune out in Albania

and thought he'd try his luck with the Romanians.

But Billy lost his touch.

He was found dead in his Bucharest flat last Boxing Day.

Massive alcohol and heroin overdose,

according to the coroner's report.

So, what's the case?

Excuse me?

Well, if Billy Carse is six feet under,

who are we supposed to be after?

You see, I don't think Billy Carse

had anything to do with this.

- Eh? - I'll show you.

Come on. Get your coats. We're late. Come on.

We're gonna have to go by my place.

I've got to change.

How did Brian get ahold of this case?

Apparently Katie Briers phoned the switchboard,

they put it through here, Brian picked it up,

and he hasn't been able to let go of it since.

He claims there's fresh evidence.

What's Strickland say about all this?

Not a lot. He's on a golfing holiday in La Manga.

- Uh-huh. - How about this for a theory?

Katie Briers doesn't take to marriage,

loses her head, murders her husband,

and is lucky enough to get away with it.

Well, you can tell her that yourself. Come on.

Shall we show them the e-mails?

Oh. Yeah.

Here.

Yeah, Katie's received some unwanted spam.

Unsolicited e-mails from a character by the name of Merlin.

Yeah, um, every morning and every night.

Be going on four months now.

Since mid-January.

Two weeks after Billy was pronounced dead.

"Billy Carse couldn't fight for himself.

You must fight for him."

"The real killer is walking free, and Merlin can prove it."

Who is this joker?

Well, we don't know.

There are dozens of Merlins out there in the blogosphere.

You tried changing your e-mail address?

Only about a hundred times.

But he always seems to find me out, you know?

I just thought if this guy Merlin,

if... if he knows something...

You, uh...

You don't believe me, do you?

What do you think this is, some kind of, what, stunt?

You want to know what the worst thing is?

There are times when I-I don't even believe it myself.

- Katie. - No, no.

I mean, that whole day, it's a complete blank,

so how do I know I never killed him?

I mean, me, the real me, not some puppet on a string.

Me!

'Cause God knows I've always had a temper on me.

I-I've got nae hand brake, my mother says.

But...

I just... I want... I need to know.

Guilty or not.

Is that... Is that so very weird to you?

That went well.

Yeah, thanks, Jack. Glad to have you back.

Oh, come on, Brian.

You've got to be impartial. You know that as well as I do.

Impartial, granted. But blind bloody ignorant?

- Brian. - Yes, I know.

The woman is in bits,

but grief alone is not gonna swing a jury.

We've got Merlin. A new witness.

A few empty claims. He doesn't even name a suspect.

There.

There's your suspect.

"The real killer... Brandon Skye."

Who's Brandon Skye?

The man who stole Billy's crown.

The so-called messiah of modern magic.

TV star.

Psychopath.

Pioneer of NLP.

Neuro-linguistic programming.

It's a kind of software for the brain.

It was developed by a couple of overheated shrinks

back in the '80s.

Now, Brandon wove that into his magic.

Cooked up new ways to hypnotize and influence his subjects.

So, what's the connection

between this Brandon Skye and Billy Carse?

Well, he worked for Billy back in '95.

'95? That's four years before Briers was killed.

Well, maybe it took four years for him to become the...

The magician that could pull off this kind of stunt.

Where's Skye now?

He's on a world tour.

Las Vegas.

Okay. Let's talk to him.

We going to Vegas?!

Ah, Billy Carse.

Yes, I knew him briefly.

And, uh, no, we weren't exactly blood brothers.

Why was that?

Looking in different directions, you might say.

- What's the weather doing? - The weather?

Mm. It's pushing 90 out here.

Prawns as big as bananas.

I tell you, it's a long way from Essex.

Have you had any contact with Mr. Carse

since you were employed by him?

Um, no, I'm sorry. No, not a squeak.

And do you have any information

on the killing of Raymond Briers?

Who?

Ohh, you're opening that old can of worms.

Well... Well, good for you.

Um, I always said it needed a proper looking-at.

Okay, thank you, Mr. Skye, for your time.

Um, if we need to speak to you in person...

On tour till the end of the year, I'm afraid.

But if you want to fly out, catch a show...

Thank you. I'm sure that won't be necessary.

- Goodbye. - Have a nice da...

I'm sorry, Brian. I gonna need more than this.

I'll go and buy him an ice cream.

She wants evidence, I'll give her evidence.

Who is this bloke, anyway?

Guy Carse. Billy's brother.

Last person to see Katie Briers before the murder.

I know that car.

No, hey. Now, just try and calm down, Mr. Carse.

I'm not safe while that man's in the house.

Stop it. Gerry, the man's in a wheelchair.

The man is a lunatic.

He tried to drive me off the road.

We've got to speak to him, though.

- Apologize. - What?!

Now.

My colleague's got something he wants to get off his chest.

Haven't you, Gerry?

No offense, all right?

None taken, kemosabe.

Any chance of a cup of tea?

I had hoped... Passage of time...

People might start to remember my kid brother as he was.

But one stupid mistake, it poisons everything it touches.

Yeah, murder does that.

I gather you were the last person to see Katie Briers

before she stabbed her husband.

That's right, yes. I drove her home after the day's filming.

You were a driver on your brother's show?

Chauffeur.

Huh! You qualified, are you?

Advanced driver's certificate.

Your mum must be very proud.

Oh, yes. Big belly laugh.

I worked hard for that.

Sheer bloody-minded persistence. Story of my life.

Yeah, I'll bet.

You can do anything if you put your mind to it.

The devil's in the detail. That's my philosophy.

Yeah, how did Katie seem

that night when you dropped her home?

Bit wobbly. Out of it.

I should never have dropped her off.

I should just have kept on driving.

You said you thought she was still under.

- Under what? - Hypnotized.

Yeah, it's possible.

But your brother said he brought her out of her trance

before she went home.

Magic's not an exact science.

Why are you dragging all this up, anyway?

Did you have much to do with Brandon Skye?

Brandon?

Well, briefly. Long time ago.

1995. When he worked for your brother.

I didn't see much work.

He was always quoting "philosophy" and "science."

My brother, he was old school and proud of it.

Brandon, he just wanted to smash all that.

Looks like he won in the end.

Poor old Billy.

They just sent his effects over from Romania.

Four cardboard boxes. Not much of a life.

May we see them?

I sent them over to the Magic Circle.

Thought there might be something they could use.

Some of the world's finest magicians

bequeath their personal effects to our extensive collection

here at the Magic Circle.

Chung Ling Soo.

Pioneer of the Magic Circle.

Throughout his adult life he passed himself off as infirm,

all for the sake of one trick.

Hard to credit, that level of sacrifice.

Well, we live in an age of skeptics.

Still, the wheel is turning.

Excuse me.

Um...

If you wouldn't mind?

Yeah, I'm sorry. Yeah.

Nice, innit?

Did you know him... Billy Carse?

Barely. He was an innocent, in his way.

Pity. All the trouble.

Brian.

What was the date of the Briers murder?

17th of November '99.

- Well, what is it? - It's evidence.

Ugh!

This is Dr. Neville Moroni.

He's the resident expert here at the Magic Circle.

He's gonna talk us through the slide.

You were supposed to take him for an ice cream.

What we have here...

is a classic hypnosis script.

Looks ordinary enough. "Hello and welcome."

"I promise you today is going to be a killer."

And this was the script used to hypnotize Katie Briers

before she killed her husband?

This is it.

Look for repetition. Word patterns.

Like "killer," "kill or be killed,"

"killing time," "Wouldn't you kill for her?"

Just a minute. What's that?

"That kind of attitude is not warthy

of anyone with a pulse."

"Warthy" not "worthy." Wasn't a Geordie, was he?

No, it's a plant.

- A what? - A plant.

Course it's a plant.

He's repeating words like "war," "kill," "murder."

And the name of the victim, Ray, as in "raison d'être,"

"unraysonable," "ray of light."

Suggesting that Katie Briers had already been singled out.

Exactly.

Well, then, doesn't that point to Billy Carse?

I mean, it was found among his effects.

Not quite.

This kind of word patterning is indicative

of something known as neuro-linguistic programming.

Ah! NLP.

Miles over the head of an end-of-the-pier act like Billy.

Nah, he could never have written a script like this.

Somebody wrote it for him.

So, what was he doing hanging on to it for all these years?

Maybe he just felt ashamed or...

just couldn't bring himself to throw it away.

And this stuff works?

With the right performer.

Oh, sure, sure.

Ahh!

A doubting Thomas.

Care for a demonstration?

Hm! Yeah, right.

- Well, go on, Gerry. - Dare you.

All right, all right.

Come on, then. Give me your best work.

You mean, you really can't remember anything?

Well, I remember standing there

and that Moroni bloke telling me

to think of the first song that came into my head, and...

Then it all went sort of dizzy and...

Yes. Thank you.

- You all right? - I'll live.

- Which is more than I can say... - Sandra.

We agreed.

- Fine. - All right, what did he do?

Nothing. Nothing.

Brian?

Well, "nothing's" all right, innit?

Nothing to write home about.

So...

- Who's with me? - You what?

- The case. - Oh, I don't know, Brian.

Even if Brandon had a hand in this script of yours,

how did he get it to Billy?

Well, if I had all the answers, we'd be making an arrest.

Yeah, and we'd have to have gold-plated proof

of malicious intent against Katie Briers.

Isn't that what we're meant to be about?

Lost causes the rest of the Met won't touch?

There's Billy Carse lying in his coffin

and poor Katie Briers going out of her mind

because nobody's got the guts or the decency

to launch an investigation.

If this Merlin claims to know what happened,

then we should talk to him.

Oh, come on.

Come on. Who's with me?

Three days.

You won't regret it.

Do you remember the words that were used

to hypnotize you, Katie?

No.

The last thing I remember is that I was sitting there and...

The wind was in my hair.

We really want to find this man, but we're gonna need your help.

Those e-mails you showed us... Did you ever send a reply?

Yeah, I did. From time to time.

How would you feel about setting up a meeting?

"Midnight. Under the Hungerford Bridge.

Come alone."

Who does this Merlin think he is,

Humphrey bleeding Bogart?

Shh!

We have a male approaching

from Waterloo Bridge.

Merlin?

Oi!

Play nice.

So Mr. Burgess...

Call me Merlin.

Mr. Burgess.

Why now?

I did it for Billy.

I heard that he d-died.

I wanted to set the record straight.

Very touching.

Why not pick up the phone or come to see us?

I'm not exactly a people p-person.

No kidding.

So three counts of battery since 2001,

two ABH, and a breaking and entering.

Much call for magic, is there, in the nick?

Not a lot.

I do a bit of bookbinding, mostly.

I work with my hands.

Huh.

You met Billy Carse when?

Summer of '95.

That's four years before the Briers murder.

That's it.

Me and Brandon... Brandon Skye...

We were like Billy's... backroom boys.

But Brandon...

Him and Billy Carse didn't exactly see eye to eye.

He said Billy was p-past his prime,

yesterday's man.

I used to be one of them.

And what were you saying, Clive?

I kept my mouth shut.

Brandon couldn't stand it.

Packed his bags after a c-couple of months,

said I was to go with him.

- And did you? - Yeah.

He said he'd c-cure my stammer, for a kickoff.

I think the m-magic wore off.

And what did he want in return?

He needed to run some tests.

Oh, you were his guinea pig?

Lab rat.

Two years Brandon Skye

m-messed with my head while he worked up his act.

You want to know where the bodies are buried? Right here.

Head like a bloody graveyard.

You sound like a man with an ax to grind.

Eh?

What's all this got to do with the Briers murder?

He went on and on

about how he was gonna drag Billy Carse through the gutter.

Why? 'Cause they didn't get on?

Kill off the competition, more like.

I mean, old school or not,

Billy had something, and Brandon knew it.

So, what was the plan?

To plant a spy in Billy's camp.

A spy? Working for Brandon?

That's it. Years he went on about it.

Then all of a sudden he found some bird.

He said she was perfect, just Billy's type.

When was this?

Couple of months before the Briers business.

So if Merlin is to be trusted,

we're looking for a mystery lady

who worked on Billy Carse's production crew

back here in 1999.

I just pulled these out of the old file.

It's a "Magic Majestic" crew list and a crew photograph.

Taken a couple of weeks before Katie showed up.

Not many of the females of the specie.

Couple of secretaries, butch camera grip,

and Lulu Quester.

- The producer. - Mm.

She and Billy look nice and snug, don't they?

Mm. And she'd have had plenty of access to the top man.

When did she join the team?

June '99.

That would fit in with Merlin's story.

So we're saying that Brandon plants a mole on Billy's team,

waits for a suitably vulnerable target,

rewrites Billy's hypnosis script...

Katie goes berserk, and Billy's career is in ruins.

Conspiracy to murder.

Well, it's a funny old world.

Brandon's company... Black Cat Holdings...

They do these out-of-the-box corporate weekends.

Who do you think does the day-to-day running for him?

Lulu bloody Quester.

Says on the company blurb here

Lulu and Brandon met for the first time two years ago.

Well, if they think we're gonna swallow that one.

That little sod thinks he's untouchable.

Hang on. When did Brandon say he was back in the country?

End of the year. Why?

It says here he's making an unscheduled appearance

at Lulu Quester's next corporate weekend

or you get your money back.

- When's that? - In about six hours' time.

He lied to us, Sandra.

He knew he was coming back, and he lied to us.

Well, let's pull him in.

What, and watch Brandon pull up the drawbridge?

Yeah, he's right.

All right, all right.

Strickland's on the fairway, right?

Why don't you see if you can get a couple of late bookings

for this nice corporate weekend, eh?

Ahh.

What are you reading?

It's a basic grounding in modern magic.

Neville loaned me them.

Do you want a swig?

No thank you.

It's ginger beer.

I'll save you some.

Can you believe it?

They've got that famous library there,

and look at the way they treat their books.

- Look. - Scandalous, Brian.

Barry. Barry Cunliffe.

We're undercover now.

Yes, but only for so long as we need to be.

Understood.

Here we are.

What's with the shades?

I don't want him coming in here.

- Who? - Brandon Skye.

You're not scared of that old charlatan, surely.

This top story's not to rent.

Anyway, look what happened to Gerry.

One minute he's right as rain, and then...

I know.

You must be Simone and Barry.

I'm Lulu Quester. Welcome.

Blimey. That her?

Wasted on Brian, of course.

Born in Kidderminster.

Background in television and public relations.

20 years' experience. Doesn't say what at.

Problem is connecting her with Brandon

before the Briers killing.

Hm. Right.

Hello. Yeah, Quester.

Q-U-E-S-T-E-R.

Kidderminster.

- What are you doing? - Directory inquiries.

- What for? - Yeah, that's the one.

Yes, please.

- They're putting me through. - Softly-softly, Sandra said.

Just relax, huh?

Message for Lulu Quester from Jack Rafferty from, uh...

Apollo Headhunters.

Hi, I'm calling about a job opportunity in Chicago.

So if someone could call me back ASAP

we can talk numbers

and maybe get you on a flight by the close of play on Sunday.

So let's speak soon, huh?

Jack Rafferty. 07700 916572.

What was all that in aid of?

Well, in a little while her loving granny will phone back.

We'll have a cozy little chitchat about Lulu,

all her boyfriends and her career.

And all for the price of a phone call.

You live in a dream world.

No, I'm "lateral."

You're barmy.

So, um, why Rafferty?

As in Gerry Rafferty?

You heard of him?

Hold on, hold on.

This is about the other day, isn't it? That hypnotist.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Yes, you...

You might like to answer that. Could be granny.

Might be.

Hello.

Can you say that...

- Hung up. - Who?

Don't know.

But it sounded like our pal Merlin.

What did he say?

Well, he just said he'd broken rule number nine.

Well, he's barmy an' all.

Number nine? What did he mean?

Well, I don't know. He just hung up.

Okay, well, call me as soon as you find him.

And bring me something solid on our female friend.

I'll do me best.

Hiya. Ian Butterworth.

You must be Simone.

Where's your badge?

Excuse me.

Billy Carse?

Talk about a blast from the past.

Didn't he go off to Transylvania or someplace?

- Did he? - Mm.

Don't get me wrong, Barry. Every dog has his day, but...

He was never in Brandon's league.

Such an amateur. Jesus.

Didn't that used to be a good thing?

Amateur.

Meant you did something for the love of it.

Now, that is exactly the mind-set

we have to get you out of, Barry.

Oh, no! Of course.

Then there was that brother of his

chauffeuring him around.

Bless.

I mean, it's meant to be a business,

not some traveling circus.

I heard you and Billy hit it off.

No.

Not a patch on your new boss, eh?

Brandon.

Practically saved my life.

I'm a bit starstruck, to be honest.

You sure I can't make that a spritzer?

No. Thank you.

Champagne, please.

I heard Brandon might be making an appearance.

Imagine that, though, eh? Brandon Skye in the flesh?

That'll be one for the grandkids.

If you say so.

Come on. I bet you'd like him to slip you one, eh?

I'm here to learn... Ian.

Oof. You sound just like my ex-wife.

Open university, evening classes.

I told her, I said, "Where's all this gonna end, eh?

'Celebrity Countdown'?"

I hope she's happy now, mind.

I hope all them books keep her warm at night.

So, uh, you and Barry... You at it, then, are you?

What? No!

Oh.

Right, then.

Mr. Burgess?

Merli...

Jesus wept.

So this is Merlin, eh? The Welsh wizard.

At least we're in the right place.

What's left of it.

Eh, he's legged it.

I don't know.

List of names. Numbers.

Some kind of register?

Anything you recognize?

Billy Carse a couple of times.

Pretty hard to read.

I wouldn't have had Burgess pegged

as a Bible basher, would you?

Well, we've all got to believe in something.

Hang on a minute.

What did he say? Rule number nine?

There you are... "Thou shalt not bear false witness."

Do you think the e-mails and the meeting...

Do you think he was about to confess to Katie,

and we turned up and put the kibosh on it?

No.

And he wasn't even working on Carse's show

the year Briers was killed.

And if he was about to confess,

he'd have broken the other rule, wouldn't he?

- Number six. - What's number six?

Thou shalt not commit murder.

I don't think it works with wine glasses.

Oh.

How are you getting on?

Must be a wardrobe in the way.

Anyway, what's creepy Ian doing in Lulu's apartment?

I could hazard a guess.

Oh, come on.

No. Wouldn't put it past him.

He's the kind of bloke

who thinks that the word "no" is a...

kind of elaborate foreplay.

Let it go!

Do you think we should go in and help?

I'm sorry. Barry would never do that.

I can't compromise me cover.

Jesus, Brian.

Barry.

Christ, what are we doing here?

Why don't we just show our I.D.s

and then interview Lulu when we've got the chance?

What, scare Brandon off?

There we are.

Nice and quiet now.

Right.

Go on. Off you go.

We've got to be up at the crack of dawn.

"Jungle Fever: Illusions of Leadership."

I thought you liked the great outdoors.

Oh, aye, it's fine for Brian.

Barry's got rheumatic knees.

Aaaaaaaaaaaay!

Ian.

Ebooooowyah!

Ha ha!

Simone.

Haa!

And once more.

Aaaaaah!

- Whoo! - Belter!

Okay, now, you all know the rules.

Three hours and one compass.

Go, go, go!

Merlin's gone?

But you caught him. I was there.

We later released him.

But the point is we don't know where he is.

His apartment is empty,

and he left us in a very agitated state.

Look, it's nothing to worry about.

We just don't want him trying to contact you again.

Have you got somewhere you can go

or someone you can stay with?

Where's Brian? I want to see Brian.

I'm afraid he's away for a couple of days.

You're gonna have to make do with us.

If there's any trouble, I'm at the end of the phone.

I'll take my own chances, thanks.

Thought you were supposed to

be good with maps, Brian.

It's not exactly prizewinning cartography.

Oi, Ian! We're meant to be making that last.

Think you got that upside down.

Anyway, who's Brian when he's at home?

- Huh? - Well, you just said Brian.

I've seen this place before.

Something's not right.

Oh, my God!

Come over here!

- He's not breathing. - I know that tree.

It's the war game. It's Katie Briers' war game.

We've been set up.

Oh, Christ!

What... What the hell's going on?

Oh, dear.

Sandra Pullman, you really should do that for a living.

Brandon Skye. You little bastard.

UCOS?

Sounds like a hemorrhoid cream.

Fancy a lift?

Huh. That's gratitude for you.

Look, Merlin's not gonna show up now, is he?

- Can we go home? - You go.

That woman's had a bellyful of trouble.

Tell you what. Let's have a bit of music.

- Cheer us up. - Wait a minute. What is this?

- Oh, no. - Oi!

Oh, no, you don't.

What the bleeding hell did you do that for?

For your own good.

It's that hypnotist, innit?

Why won't anyone tell me what happened?

You ever heard of "Oedipus Rex"?

Yeah.

He went on and on asking questions.

Are you saying I shagged my own mother?

Worse.

Much worse.

Worse?!

What the...

Hello.

Who?

Yeah, Jack Rafferty speaking.

Sorry, it's a bad line. Who am I talking to?

Hey! Lulu's grandmother.

Why, granny, what big ears you've got.

Cheer up, Bri!

Honestly, the look on your face.

What you gonna do now? Clap me in irons?

Apply the letter of the law?

Surely not tonight. We're all having so much fun.

Besides, I could be very useful to an old soak like you.

- What did you say? - How is life on the wagon, eh?

Good days and bad days?

- You been checking up on me? - Well, there's no need.

Fizzy water. Bloodshot eyes.

That trapped nerve in your left cheek.

You want me to make a list?

Sandra.

Look at you, freshly douched.

What you gonna do, kiss me or kill me?

How about nick you?

Ow. Probably deserved that one.

For the record, how long have you and Mr. Skye been shagging?

Two years.

Why?

I'm amazed you give him the time of day.

Oh, let her have it. Both barrels.

Who knows? Maybe she just fancied me?

Top "A" like a tomcat when this one gets going.

I'd like to formally interview the pair of you.

Well, leaving aside the lack of evidence against us,

the underhand and, uh,

slightly naff means you used to get here,

she's got 50-odd people

who've paid through the nose to come here.

Let her have her party. Go on.

And then we'll answer as many questions as you like.

Excuse me.

Brian.

Hi, Gerry, what you got?

August '98,

Lulu Quester got a temporary job with a theatrical agency.

The same agency that represented Brandon Skye.

Now, although Lulu denied it,

my contact suspects there was a secret boyfriend.

Okay. Keep digging, and let me know if you get anything.

Gotcha.

What Brandon doesn't realize is that we've got the script.

And if we can persuade Lulu to talk to us,

we might have a case.

Brian, what are you doing?

He's planning something. I'm sure of it.

But what's he after? That's the point.

High-frequency words. If I just had him down on tape.

And the eyes! The eyes.

Was it up to the right or down to the left?

It's here somewhere. I think it's page 37.

Brian.

If these books weren't such a bloody mess,

I might just hear myself think.

Brian, let's go home.

- Don't you dare. - I'm concerned about you.

No need.

I am, as they say, past saving.

About 27 years past, according to Esther.

I'm not going anywhere, Sandra.

Not till we've got him.

All right, I'll see if I can lean on Lulu,

get her on side, until...

This is their corporate H.Q.!

Must be stuffed with records.

You know, paperwork. Letters!

No harm in having a look...

Don't you even begin to go there!

Now, you get an early night. Promise me.

Promise me!

♪ Give me the groove ♪

♪ Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh ♪

♪ Give me the groove ♪

♪ Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh ♪

♪ Give me the groove ♪

♪ Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Uh-huh ♪

♪ Uh-huh, uh-huh ♪

♪ Give me the groove ♪

♪ Uh-huh, uh-huh ♪

♪ Give me the groove ♪

♪ Uh-huh, uh-huh ♪

♪ Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Uh-huh ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

Ohh.

You've disappointed me, Brandon.

♪ Yeah, yeah, uh-huh ♪

♪ Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh ♪

♪ Give me the groove ♪

Lulu.

Simone.

Detective Superintendent Pullman works for me.

- Right. - Friend of yours says hello.

Lulu Quester.

17th of June 1999.

Oh, doubly disappointed, Brandon.

Classic substitution code.

Oh, Brandon.

What have we got?

It appears an "I" is a "U."

I told you. I've only known him for two years.

And your colleagues at the agency

will back you up on that, will they?

He's a bully.

- You don't know him. - Let me guess.

He's funny, clever, got an ego the size of Texas,

and you feel about two inches tall when you're not with him.

He looks after me.

Really?

'Cause he sure as hell kicks the crap out of everybody else.

"M."

"Must." "You must..."

Apply the letter of the law.

Let her have her party.

Let her have it. Both barrels.

Letter... Letter... Letter of the law.

"You must think I was born yesterday."

"You must think I was born yesterday."

You might think you've got the run of me.

Well, let me tell you...

You're not half as clever as you're stupid.

- Brian, that's enough. - And I'm gonna take you apart.

Cog by cog and wheel by wheel. Then we'll see who's laughing.

Oh, Brian, Brian, Brian.

You take the infinite suggestibility of the human mind

and you turn it into clockwork.

Has anybody heard the one about the Flemish priest?

No?

He runs to this hospital ward

to give the last rites to this dying peasant.

Anyway, he goes and gives it the wrong man.

Some poor sod who's only in there for a hernia operation.

Half an hour later, the guy with the hernia is dead.

And the dying peasant, well,

he's probably planting potatoes as we speak.

And?

I'm delivering your last rites right now,

and you don't even know it.

What's that supposed to mean?

You old soak.

You don't think that's orange juice in your glass, do you?

We're not done here.

Brian!

Brian, get out of the car.

Brian, you can't even drive, for Christ's sake!

It's all right. I'll drive you.

We're looking for Merlin.

- Merlin? - Also known as Clive Burgess.

- Gentleman with a stammer? - That's the one.

Thought you might have kept in touch.

I try not to look back. Those days are long gone.

Ask around at the Magic Circle.

You never thought of having a go at the magic yourself, then?

Abracadabra.

Very good.

That'll be my dinner.

Yes, I thought I could smell something.

Lasagne al forno.

Yes, well, uh, we'll see ourselves out.

Bon appétit.

Oh, my God.

What are you looking at?

Okay, let's go.

But surely he's over the limit.

The Breathalyzer came back negative.

Eh?

The Breathalyzer came back negative.

What are you saying, I don't know drunk from sober?

No, Brian, of course not.

He beat me.

Okay.

Okay, I'll tell you the truth.

For the benefit of the tape,

I'm handing Mr. Skye exhibit SP23,

which is a copy of the script used

in the Billy Carse television show

to hypnotize various people, including Katie Briers.

Now, Mr. Skye, I believe

that in connivance with your lover, Lulu Quester,

you singled out Katie Briers as a vulnerable subject,

drove her to murder,

thereby wrecking the reputation of your rival, Billy Carse.

You wrote this script, didn't you?

And then you gave it to Miss Quester

to hand over to Billy.

I never wrote this.

Read my memoirs.

Chapter 3. "Awakenings."

I didn't get into NLP until years after Katie Briers.

I don't want to read your memoirs, Mr. Skye.

Oh, look out.

Here comes trouble.

Brian Lane has just entered the room.

Bad hangover?

Glass of O.J. and a raw egg. Never fails.

I am handing Mr. Skye exhibit SP37.

Will you please turn to page 38, Mr. Skye?

Now, is this your handwriting in the left-hand margin?

- Yes, but I... - Yes or no?!

Yes.

Read it.

"Bury word patterns.

Compel the subject to act against their will,

maybe even..."

"Maybe even murder," Mr. Skye?

I've never even read this book.

Funny, that.

Right.

Here we go.

The withdrawals book from the library at the Magic Circle.

I am now turning to June '97.

Oh, hello!

There's your name, Mr. Skye, withdrawing this book.

Exhibit SP37.

And again SP52, 64, 29.

Each one of them covered in more of the same.

This is a joke, right?

Who's laughing?

Hello?

Merlin?

Where are you?

Okay, so I set Lulu up for the job with Billy.

She used to say I knew

more about Billy's next show than he did.

She let me at his ideas, his subject profiles.

I went through it all.

And, yes, Katie Briers looked lively enough.

Popping Prozac like it was going out of fashion.

Well, she wasn't wrong there, was she?

You know, Lulu wanted to pull her from the show, but I said...

"Let her have her 15 minutes.

It'll be fun."

But nobody... nobody... Was ever meant to get murdered.

And, you know, how many more times

do I have to say this to you?

I didn't write any script.

He set me up.

He set me up.

Where's Lulu?

Look, it wasn't me, all right?

Interview suspended at 10:02.

Excuse me.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,

who's the cleverest of them all?

Not you, Mr. Skye.

No.

Not me.

Never was.

There's always somebody cleverer.

Oh, come on.

Don't flatter yourself.

Who?

Who was cleverer?

Mr. Burgess was discovered last night outside Tilbury Docks.

- Trying to leave the country? - Not exactly.

Those e-mails he sent to Katie weren't entirely honest.

Were they, Merlin?

- I was led astray. - Yes.

So he wanted to make amends.

He tried to contact me

and then dropped in on his coconspirator...

What coconspirator?

Who showed him this.

Last thing I remember, I was standing in his living room.

- Whose living room? - Guy Carse.

Don't tell me... He was hypnotized.

Mm. Using this.

So he walks up to Tower Bridge and throws himself off the edge.

I c-can't even swim.

So how come you're not at the bottom of the Thames?

I was saved.

Saved? He's got the luck of the three blind mice.

He landed on a barge. Knocked himself spark out.

It was a miracle.

- Brian. - Oh, hello, Katie.

They said on the news that you've got him.

Brandon Skye.

Do you ever get the feeling

that nothing's as simple as it needs to be?

It's the story of my life.

I've ordered a car to take me back to UCOS.

I'd like you to come with me.

I'll explain everything on the way there.

But Katie, you must trust me.

That'll be our cab.

It was Guy Carse.

He wanted me to contact Katie and frame Brandon Skye.

Why did you lie for him?

He said he'd fix my impediment.

He said Brandon needed teaching a lesson,

and if I did what I was told he'd fix me

for k-k-k-keeps.

This is on the meter, Mr. Carse.

No chance.

This one's on the firm.

Oh. Very civil of you.

So tell me...

How many years was it you worked as your brother's driver?

All our lives.

And you never fancied it yourself,

the life of the magician?

- With these legs? - Oh, I don't know.

There's always room for the backroom boys.

You know, the ideas man.

That's where the real magic happens.

The preparation.

If you say so.

God is in the detail, as you once remarked.

Or was that the devil?

I suppose it depends.

So who was Billy's ideas man?

He worked alone.

Oh, come on.

No need to be so modest, Mr. Carse.

Billy was nothing without you.

Look what happened to him in Bucharest.

Poor bastard.

If it hadn't been for your legs,

it could have been you up there in lights.

No, no. Billy always had the gift.

What gift's that, then?

He knew how to make people love him.

Including you?

Always.

What, even when leggy Lulu turned his head

and you went from Svengali to spare part?

Did you still love him then?

Billy still needed teaching a lesson, though, didn't he?

So you sat tight and you waited.

For the right subject to come along.

Someone fragile.

Ripe for the breaking.

Very good, Mr. Lane.

What was it gave me away?

Brandon Skye.

Turns out he always had you pegged as the puppet master.

He was just too vain to say so.

And this beauty.

Binding here, see? Recently restored.

That's a craft practiced by your mate Merlin.

He opened up the book for you

and planted new entries for Brandon,

only backdated to 1997.

Then in went the incriminating marginalia.

That must have taken days,

learning to copy the handwriting.

- Months. - Hell of a sacrifice.

Small change next to some of the stuff I've done.

What was it you said?

The last thing you remembered that day?

Can you stop the car, please?

The very last thing.

The wind in my hair.

Crack the window, will you, love?

I like fresh air in the car.

Billy told the truth.

He did bring Katie out of her trance

at the end of the war game.

Then you hypnotized her again a second time.

And then you planted your script amongst Billy's effects

to lead us to Brandon.

Did you know?

What?

Did you know that I would walk through that door

and murder my husband?

Call it a leap of faith.

Look at me.

Look at me, you grubby little coward!

Come on, Mr. Carse. Stop the car.

Game's up now.

You okay?

Listen, whenever you're ready, we're gonna need a statement.

- Okay. - What were you thinking of?!

- I know. I'm sorry. - Not good enough, Brian!

You don't get it, do you? He believed me.

Nobody ever believed me.

They're not gonna suspend you, are they?

Sandra? Heh. She wouldn't dare.

You know, the weird thing is I almost feel sorry for him.

- Sorry for who? - Guy Carse.

Losing the use of his legs.

I mean, part of me thinks, well, he's been punished once.

Hang on.

He's always been in that wheelchair.

Who, Guy?

Chung Ling Soo.

Chung Ling bloody Soo!

Throughout his adult life

he passed himself off as infirm,

all for the sake of one trick.

No, I knew he was dodgy when he pranged my car.

I thought he didn't touch your car.

No, but he would have if I hadn't had my wits about me.

And here's him giving me grief. "Gerry, he's in a wheelchair."

Yeah. That's what I call political correctness...

Gone mad. Yeah, we know.

Look at him. Miles away.

Like Raymond Briers' killer.

He can't get far. They'll find him.

Could be halfway to Peru by now.

Well, at least Katie knows the truth.

- That's something. - True.

So...

Gonna tell me about this hypnotist?

Gerry, you've heard of a trigger.

Well, the hypnotist plants in his subject

a particular trigger.

Something familiar, close to the subject's heart.

Hit that trigger, cause a nuclear reaction.

And what's my reaction?

We daren't say.

Well, what's my trigger?

Well, I'd give the music of Gerry Rafferty

the widest possible berth.

- No! - No!

♪ It's all right, it's okay ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter if you're old and gray ♪

♪ It's all right, I say it's okay ♪

♪ Listen to what I say ♪

♪ It's all right, doing fine ♪

♪ Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine ♪

♪ It's all right, I say it's okay ♪

♪ We're getting to the end of the day ♪

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