Original subtitles

Ladies and gentlemen, let us take rest.

Amen.

Thank

you very much.

is Fury.

I'm a freelance journalist and I've been talking to a son of a twice -born.

If you'd like to know what he had to say about that little group, call when

you've returned from high table.

Say nine this evening.

Number's 993817.

Hello?

Hello?

What's this all about?

You're dying.

What do you mean he's dying?

To be honest, I don't really want to be on a Tuesday.

I asked Bobby Dylan.

I asked the Beatles.

I asked Timothy Leary. But he couldn't help me. They call me the Sheikah.

Cause I'd never smile as I ransacked that hole to shake my hand.

Focusing on dope.

Bloody kid.

Well, there's a stack of courses to choose from.

I know.

Human geography?

Nah, I've looked at that.

Understanding the physical and human environment and means of improving it.

I'm a copper. I'm already doing all that.

Oh, there's no great mystery.

Clubbed to death with a blunt instrument.

Any idea when?

Normal body temperature minus measured body temperature divided by 1 .5.

Sometime between 10 and 12.

It was certainly after dark.

How do you know?

There was a flash torch lying beneath the body.

Who am I looking for?

Definitely somebody with blood on their clothes or their purse.

Thanks, Doctor.

One contact book, one wallet containing porn ticket dated day before

yesterday, one London to Oxford Rail ticket return, one pair of glasses, and

that's it. Nothing to ID him, no cash, nothing of any value. Oh, and there was

white band on his wrist from wearing a watch, but no watch.

Well, they won't be needing one now.

Nothing like a bit of gallows for you to kick -start the day, eh, sir?

Know anything about painting?

A bit.

Enough to tell good from bad.

And?

That I refuse to speak out of the dead.

Thank God for that.

Thought maybe I was missing something.

What are all these little marks?

That's never a signature, surely?

Well, it's in the right place.

I recognise some of those characters with the ancient Greek.

What's the betting he's an Oxford man?

Engine oil, sir. Pretty fresh.

Not many cars pass through here.

There were buses for that matter.

So how did he get here then?

As far as we know, he didn't drive, and I doubt very much whether he walked all

the way from the railway station.

It's to me.

Yeah, they all got a taxi.

If he did that, maybe the cabbie didn't remember him.

We're called the Pawn Broker in London.

The dead man's name was Dean Greeley, lived in Bayswater.

What did he pawn?

Yeah, interesting, that. A gent's ring, solid gold.

He'd hopped it a few times before all of us redeemed it.

Then two days ago, they gave him a couple of hundred on it. By the day, he

nothing. We think he's watching us.

Killed for a watch and a few hundred pounds. Let's hope not.

Do we have a murder weapon?

Not yet.

The driver from City Cabs definitely remembers dropping Greeley at the

narrowboat. When she gets back to the station, her next pair's a woman, and

woman wants to know where Greeley had been dropped.

Where was she dropped, this woman?

Cheap B &B.

But when I find out, they say she's left.

Moved here.

Like a step up from a B &P?

Must have come in with some money.

Do you have an Ingrid news for me?

I asked where the previous fare had been dropped.

Because the previous fare was Dean Greeley, my partner in life for the last

years and more.

Your husband?

Well, we never got round to the marriage thing.

Mrs. Nielsen, Dean Greeley was murdered last night.

What?

How? He was attacked.

We won't have the details until the post -mortem's completed.

I thought you might be here about the

money and the watch.

What about the money and the watch?

Well, I went out there last night.

He wasn't there.

The door was open, but no Dino.

And what then?

His watch was lying on the table.

Anyway, I picked it up and took what money I found in his wallet and left.

When you showed up, I thought...

A damn fool thinks he's been robbed.

Maybe we should go and talk some more down at the police station.

A suspect?

That's what I like to hear.

Not a suspect.

Well, I want to hold her to do a check -up for blood, but I don't think she's

the one.

If she killed Gris, why hang around in Oxford?

Miss Nielsen was just telling me that she's a tribute artist.

I also act.

Strictly avant -garde.

Experimental.

Why did you ask the taxi driver where Mr Grady had been dropped?

I wanted to make sure that's where he'd be.

Why would he tell you a lie about where he was going? A woman phoned.

Wouldn't give her name.

Said she wanted to speak to Dean.

I told her she should call back.

And did she?

I don't know.

But the next thing is, Dean goes off to Oxford.

Said it was at the behest of an old student pal.

So you followed him to Oxford, made sure that he was on the boat, put yourself

in a B &B.

With what intention?

Of going back out there and catching them in flagrante.

He seems to have used ancient Greek to sign his pictures.

Why was that?

I hang over from his Oxford days.

We met at Oxford, you know.

Constable, Miss Nielsen's clothes, please.

I can go.

For the moment.

Right now, I've got nothing to hold you on.

This old student pal might have flown and got Greeley up here. Enjoy. Well, I

called every number in Greeley's contact book, but none of them went to Oxford.

There is still this entry, however.

But he's using ancient Greek again.

Why did he do that?

I don't know.

I had to do a bit of Greek as part of the theology course, and if I'm right,

then this heading reads, The Sons of the Twice -Born, which would be a reference

to the Greek god Dionysus.

Twice -born. Yeah.

The gods had a falling out, and the expectant mother of Dionysus perished.

took the foetus, sewed it into his thigh, and then sometime later Dionysus

born for the second time.

Right. Of course he was.

What about these three lines here?

I don't know.

Just random letters.

Could be a code, maybe.

I know someone that can help.

Inspector Lewis, Sergeant Hathaway.

May we have a word? Please.

I'm sure we've met, haven't we?

Or in another life, perhaps.

No, this one. But it was a long time ago.

Your lovely accent.

We were wondering if you could translate something for us.

I've managed to translate some of it, but these three lines, they're all Greek

to me.

You're a scholar?

Yes. Cambridge.

What makes you ask that?

It would explain your limitation.

Now, let me see.

Well, of course, these are three sets of alphabetic numbers, quite common in the

Hellenistic period, having displaced the aquaphonic system.

Numbers? Telephone numbers, actually.

How do you know that?

Because they all start with the Oxford Area Dialing Code.

Telephone numbers.

Oh, didn't you see that?

Cambridge, eh? What do they teach them over there?

Thanks for your time, Professor.

You were with Morse when we last met.

That's right, Mum.

Shame about that.

Morse.

Had his querulous side, of course.

But were none of us perfect?

No.

No, we're not.

I get down to the telephone exchange.

I want names to go with all these numbers.

And if one of them did get greedy up here, I wouldn't know which one and why.

What? Got them all.

I checked out all three names to see if we had them on file.

First up is Harry Bundrick. The number I was given was for Bundrick's bicycle

shop in town.

And?

And in 1984, Mr. Bundrick was cautioned for curb crawling.

One of his bikes?

Go on.

Next up, Dr.

Sefton Lynn, college principal, heavily tipped to be a future vice -chancellor.

Dr. Lynn is not on file.

And lastly, Theodore Platt, last surviving member of a very wealthy

family.

Desperate group. What about Platt? Anything on him?

This is awkward, bearing in mind what happened to your wife, but...

About three years ago, sir, when you were away, Theodore Platt was involved

head -on collision with another car, and he was left paralyzed from the waist

down.

The consensus at the time was that he was out of his head on drugs, but he got

himself a good lawyer, and he got off.

What about the other driver?

Killed outright.

So, uh, Bundrick called in.

The others are nearer, sir. I think flat.

Nice.

Very.

With me?

No.

It would be better to avoid any sudden movements.

Who the hell are you?

Inspector Lewis.

Sergeant Hathaway, Oxfordshire Police.

What are they? They're Malinois.

Belgian shepherd dog.

I'm Anne Siderkov, Inspector.

This is my husband, Theodore Platt.

Bloody women, they'll do everything but a man's name these days. You should be

Mrs. Platt.

Much too close to Pratt for my liking.

How can we help you?

We're investigating a murder.

Dean Greeley?

We've read about that. Murdering little Dean.

We're going to be bothered. That's what I'd like to know.

Maybe we should go inside.

Sandy.

I shall

miss little Dean.

He was... He was like a lash from my back.

Oh, and how was that, sir?

I have long harbored ambitions.

To be an author.

Eyebrow, of course. Unfortunately, despite having gone to considerable

I've been unable thus far to muster the requisite talent for the job. And all

too often, the companion piece of failure is self -pity. Do you agree?

Sometimes. Well, I'm against pity in all its forms.

Scourge of mankind.

Sentiment used by the weak to blackmail the strong. Have pity, they whine.

For pity's sake, they groan. You prefer the man unencumbered by pity, the

Superman.

A policeman, familiar with Nietzsche.

What is the world coming to? Now, Greeley, yes, he was a no -talent bum

albeit in another field of endeavour. Oh, I loathed looking at his feeble

efforts.

Miserable splodges of paint on canvas, smelling the reek of his failure. But I

was honest enough to admit that...

When I looked at Little Dean, it was like looking in a mirror.

And since I couldn't pity him for his failure, I'm sure you can see where I'm

going with this, detective.

Well, it's all very interesting.

I'm doubting it's worth it here, Theodore. Don't patronize me.

I found this, Little Dean. Not even since we were students.

That's why I've started early.

You see?

To little D.

Any excuse?

When were you last in contact with Mr. Greeley?

Ask me, Mum.

Sorry, you haven't telephoned him recently.

You didn't know that he was at his boat?

No.

Well, thank you both for your time.

What? I said thank you. I heard what you said.

I tell you, I didn't know Dean was here, and you believe me.

Now, why is that?

Is it because of this?

Because that is...

Discrimination, my friend. I could have you for that.

I could have done it, you know. I can still get about.

I could have done it. You were here with me, Theodore. I could have done it. Why

would you want to, Mr. Platt?

What with little Dean being your own personal lash and all that?

If you'll excuse us.

Oh, there is just one more question, Mr. Platt.

In Mr. Greeley's contact book, your name comes under the heading Sons of the

Twice -Born.

What does that mean?

That's something you'll have to ask little Dean.

We would, but he's dead.

Sir.

Search me.

That bloody arrogant.

Sir. What is a woman like her doing with that?

That he might still be able to get around, but the poor bloke he smashed

sure as hell can't. And don't tell me he's mended his ways.

Drunk or drugged, I bet you what you like, he still gets behind the wheel.

What?

Sometimes personal feelings can... What about them?

Tell me what it is I'm not seeing, Sergeant.

That ring he was wearing.

The image on it. I've seen it before.

That is the Greek god Dionysus.

Go on.

Well, you know that stuff about pity being the scourge of mankind, the

used by the weak to blackmail the strong.

Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, German philosopher who praised the Dionysian

approach to life.

Oh, yeah.

He's known by some as the god of earthly delights. His Greek adherents used

intoxicants to achieve euphoric states, release their creative energies, their

artistic abilities.

Which these days...

Would be drink or drug.

Sons of the twice -born, I say Platt must have understood the reference, so

deny that he did?

Great gods.

German philosopher.

What is going on?

That porn ticket of Greeley's.

That was for a ring, wasn't it?

Hello?

Hello?

Is it a repair?

Or are you looking to buy?

Neither, I'm afraid.

Sergeant Hathaway, Inspector Lewis.

We're investigating the murder of Dean Greeley?

How can we help you with that?

The shop's telephone number was in Mr. Greeley's contact book.

You knew Dean Greeley, sir?

Yeah, we were students together.

You kept in touch since university?

I sometimes found to borrow money.

Have you been in touch recently?

No. Can you account for your whereabouts when Mr. Greeley was killed?

It's just a routine question, sir.

I'll see you with my mother.

Harry's always here with me. He's a very dutiful son.

I see.

The sons of the twice -born.

Does that mean anything to you, sir?

No,

I don't think so.

Such a terrible thing to happen.

I didn't know him, but nevertheless, murder.

And the poor man was terminally ill.

He was what?

Darling, isn't that correct?

Yes, yes, I'm a journalist, I spoke to you.

Wanted to know about my prospects for the vice -chancellor.

She said we had a mutual friend in Dean and that he was terminally ill.

He was quite a shock.

Would you mind telling us where you were when Mr. Grilly was killed?

Yes, of course. I was in my office till very late with only a mountain of

paperwork for company.

Can you think of anybody that might have wanted to harm Mr. Greeley?

Inspector, don't you have someone in for the murder?

A woman, I think it said on the radio.

Not anymore, no.

I see.

Well, I'm afraid no. I have no idea who'd do such a thing.

Tell me about the Sons of the Twice -Born.

What? I came up in conversation with Theodore Platt and Harry Bundry.

You know, about the rings and stuff.

Do you still have yours?

It's around somewhere.

The sons of the twice -born, wasn't it?

It's just a group of friends.

I mean, it was a long time ago. We were very young.

Why on earth would that be of interest to you?

Oh, murder inquiry, sir. There's nothing about the victim that wouldn't be of

interest to us.

I see.

Sons of the twice -born.

Sneaky.

Well, they all wanted the best.

Then about this group, though.

There had to be more to it than a bunch of hooray -Henrys meeting for a knees

-up, didn't it?

Else why lie about it?

Does it even have any bearing on the case at all?

That... I've been telling him about

that.

Megan, what were they doing looking at my car?

It was dripping oil, I told you.

No, no, no, what were they saying?

Come on, you clearly had a conversation with them. About what?

Megan, would you excuse us, please?

Sure.

Darling, what's wrong?

Nothing's wrong.

Then why the interrogation of Megan?

Interrogation? I was merely curious as to what those policemen were saying to

her. That's all.

The theft of...

Both worked very hard on your career.

We're within an eighth of the right chance to do it. Everybody says to me,

is there anything else to know about?

Is there anything that could compromise you?

Darling.

Inspector Lynn, I really can't have you harassing people at that standing on

what seems little more than a concoction of conjecture and whimsy.

Come to think of it, maybe I can kill two birds with one stone here.

Ma 'am?

My ladies' group has organised a recital, chamber music, Mr Innocent is

indisposed. But since I know the Lynn's will be there, so will you, Inspector.

Your presence can take the bear look off me.

Me, ma 'am? Chamber music? I don't think so. This is not a request, Inspector.

Perhaps if you see Sefton Lynn in a social setting, we'll modify your

him.

Now, the post -mortem report on Dean Greeley. On my way to pick it up now, ma

'am.

When is it exactly, ma 'am, this recital?

This evening.

And it's formal.

See if you can get us some background on the Sons of the Twice -Born.

See if we can push this beyond a concoction of conjecture and whimsy. No

sir.

Wait for what?

Well, until you've been to the recital and had a chance to meet Sefton in a

social setting.

If I were you, Sergeant, I really would just get on with it.

Where will Mr.

Innocent be?

Any illness or injury in harmony, Judge?

Is that it?

As I said at the scene, someone crushed his skull, that's it.

Why, were you expecting more?

He's supposed to be terminally ill.

Well, he's given his liver a bashing over the years, but apart from that,

nothing.

You look well.

Thank you.

And you?

Oh, you know.

Never thought I'd find myself back in the Bodleian.

You're destined for great things, Seth.

It's Professor Gold up there. You can check, but I think she's down in the

vault.

Well, well, well.

Sefton Lynn and Harry Bundrick. You naughty boys, eh?

What have you been up to? Reliving old times?

Have you given him his kiss?

Sefton made his day.

He might try to chop himself again if you don't. Oh, for God's sake, leave him

alone, you twisted bastard.

Harry, are you missing those wild...

Bacchanalian knights in my temple. When we were all so out of it, you thought

you could risk a peck or two at old death here. Future vice -chancellor.

Hello, Theodore.

Aha. The poor man's Hypatia.

This must be like old times for you, Gold.

Now we get to find out why we're here.

Only when we settle down and learn to keep a civil tongue, Theodore.

I wanted to bring you together where I once tried to inspire you to great

things. I had a visit from the police.

They wanted something translated from a contact book.

I'd read of Greeley's death and I thought it might be his.

I was right.

And what has that to do with death?

I checked with Sefton.

The police clearly link Dean Greeley's death with his student days.

And as you were once a tight -knit group, it occurred to me you might hold

important information.

And now that you're here, you might like to think about that.

Well, do you think we should commemorate him in some way, Dino?

A park bench, perhaps.

Or blue plaque saying, you may not have noticed, but little

Dean was here.

Or perhaps through discussion, as the professor said.

I don't know anything. As far as I'm concerned, he was hit over the head by

drunk.

Besides, discussion with you two.

The words life, too, and short spring readily to mind.

Perhaps if you hadn't mentioned our group to the police, you might not have

put up with our company.

I didn't say anything.

Nor me.

You've been conned, you damn fool.

Wait, Theo.

Has, uh... Has either of you been contacted by a journalist?

A woman named Fury.

Hmm? Huh?

About Dean. Just the police.

No, not just about Dean.

About what, then?

Detective Inspector Lewis, is Mr. Platt at home?

No, he's not, no.

Pentecost in the temple.

Thank you.

Inspector.

Come in, please.

I'm afraid if you're looking for Theodore, he's just gone out.

Yeah, the lady at the house told me.

Wow.

My hobbies.

My father's family were furriers.

They seemed tricky and Floyd showed me the tricks of the trade.

But this is how I use them.

There.

All better.

Sadikov. Russian, is it?

Yeah.

My stepfather's family somehow ended up in Bournemouth.

Started up the business there.

Now, there was a magician with a needle and thread.

What? Oh, he died a few months ago.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Well, it was a bit of a blessing, really.

When fur went out of fashion, eventually he went out of business.

And put that badly, suffered a massive stroke, as a direct consequence, I

believe.

Which is perhaps just as well.

I doubt he and Theodore would have gotten along.

Mother?

Died when I was young.

You?

Yeah, about that.

Other family?

Son and a daughter.

Why?

My wife was killed.

Hit and run.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Did they get the person responsible?

No.

I don't suppose they ever will now.

To have someone taken away from you like that.

You hide your anger well.

Sometimes I feel glad they didn't get whoever did it.

Why?

I'm scared of what I might do to him.

I don't think I can understand that.

Where did you meet your husband?

I, um... Well, I trained as a nurse and decided I didn't like that.

And, um...

Applied for a job as a PA.

After various appointments, I ended up working for Theodore.

A year later, he asked me to marry him. Ask her why she accepted my proposal.

Hello, Theodore.

No?

I'll tell you.

If I go before her, she gets a fortune. And I mean a fortune.

But she has to stay the course. Divorce gets her nothing.

Can I get you something?

A coffee? It's a little...

Experiment, Inspector. I want to see how long Sadikov there will remain entombed

in this marriage just to get her hands on my loot. What portion of her allotted

time on this earth will she sacrifice to Mammon?

Tea, then.

With your favourite digestive?

I don't want bloody tea!

What are you doing here?

The sons of the twice -born.

What about them? You said you'd never heard of them.

But you were one of them. Who told you that?

Captain Lynn?

Harry Bundrick? Oh, well, it must be true. But was it illegal?

Depends what you're getting up to.

We were a group of like -minded friends, is all. Shared the same recreational

habits?

Why the inversion?

Was it drug?

You're boring me, Mr. Policeman.

See? There you go again. Yes!

There I go again!

Now get out of my house! Really, Theodore, where are your manners?

It's all right.

The artistic temperament and all.

Ice for the coffee.

My pleasure. Oh, see you out.

I turned up an article on Platt.

Bit of a boy wonder, by all accounts. I'm a student of Professor Gold's.

So I thought I'd go and have a word with the professor.

Called the library, found out where she was, and when I get there, she's in a

meeting with the sons of the twice -born.

What were they talking about?

I don't know, I didn't hear, but judging by their body language, they're no

longer a group, that's for sure.

Oh, I wonder why.

Grew out of each other, just.

A lot of associations formed at university do last, but you've got

contemporaries that are still friendly.

Join any groups yourself?

No, I'm not a joiner of things.

Nor me.

Drugs. They're a big thing, though.

Might be some pretty embarrassing memories coming between them.

Stuff that's way beyond the canon of a nice theology student like yourself.

I mean, theology and mind -altering substances don't really go hand in hand,

they?

No, you wouldn't think so, would you?

Nietzsche? Yeah, real page -turner.

Yeah, what do you think?

A world without compassion.

Must be a free -for -all, wouldn't it?

That's one interpretation.

Well, it's Platt's interpretation.

You heard him.

You have to suppose that goes with cronies as well.

Anyway, philosophy is ruled out.

I thought there were many ambiguities, I reckon.

Maybe it's not an interest you really need at the moment.

Maybe that's why you can't pick a course.

Well, if it's not an interest, what?

I don't know.

I'm holding you up now.

Have a really good night.

Get out of here.

Night, sir.

It's the last one.

Thank you, Harry.

How I hate them.

What will you do?

I have some iron in the fire.

What can

I

say? He's the new boy in the class.

You do scrub up well, Inspector.

Could make someone a very decent other half.

Well, I'm not looking for another half.

And if you ask me, this penguin suit's been to far too many Masonic dinners.

Trouble, they keep rolling up if it's on a court.

I didn't realise you were in the Masons, Inspector.

No, I'm not, Mum. It's a joke. It's a higher suit.

There are the limbs. Come and meet them.

Hello, Matty.

How's things?

Sefton.

How are you?

And you know Inspector Lewis?

Yes, yes, we met.

That's a terrible business all round.

Have there been any developments, Inspector, that you could speak about, I

Well, yes, there has been one development, as a matter of fact.

What?

Did I not tell you, Mum?

Dean Greeley wasn't dying.

What?

No, it was all there in the post -mortem report.

Apart from the blow that killed him, Dean Greeley was in the pen.

But that can't be.

Journalist. What do you suppose she stood to gain from lying about that?

I really don't know.

Did she leave you a contact number?

No, I don't know.

Shame.

Well, I think it's time we were all getting in.

Leg!

Old habits die hard, Professor.

Inspector, yes, I continue to work late, but I absorb so much less these days.

Please, sit.

Thank you.

Are you here because of Platt and Co.? What?

For a time, those young men were very close.

If Greeley's fate was indeed sealed in the period of their friendship, it

occurred to me that collectively they might hold some clue.

So you organized the meeting?

Yes.

How did you know?

Oh, it doesn't matter.

Well, I hope you don't mind.

But they would never have come together of their own accord.

But they would for you.

I've always retained an affection for my charges, Inspector.

Even a feeling of responsibility.

One hopes it's reciprocated.

What were they like back then?

Greeley was one of mine, as was Platt and Lynn.

Bundrick was reading medicine.

But he had a tremendous crush on Lynn, and so became part of their group.

But Bundrick was caution for curb calls.

Perhaps he was versatile.

I used to form discussion groups in those days.

Informal. The true meaning of Greek myth.

Greeley, Lynn, and Bundrick would come along and...

Then Platt showed up.

He was quite, quite brilliant.

And charismatic, too.

Very soon, the other three were completely in his sway.

Oh, they eventually stopped coming to my meetings.

And I was later to hear stories of drink and drugs.

And copious amounts of both, I may add.

Then came a falling out. I don't know what about.

And Bundrick.

Dropped out altogether.

He even attempted suicide, you know.

Slashed his wrists, I believe.

It's true what they say.

Youth is wasted on the young.

Isn't it, though?

You couldn't recommend a primer to me, could you?

Greek mythology?

I'll have one sent round to you.

Yes? Mr. Bundrick, my name is Fury.

I see you got my little message.

Now, there's something I'd like you to do for me.

I won't do it.

Do you hear me? I won't do it!

Harry?

What's the matter, Harry?

His best friends killed him because of a boast.

Who would send us a thing like that, and why?

You take it literally, this is not the killer teasing us, but it implies that

the sender knew who the killer was.

Why not tell us, for God's sake?

If you're going to shove something through my letterbox, please, make it a

not a riddle.

That little Greeley's miraculous brief return from death, eh? Well, maybe

Greeley lied to the journalist about dying. He was running a scam or

Maybe.

All I know is when I told Lynn, I couldn't have got a bigger reaction from

if I'd hit him with a sledgehammer. Now, why would that be?

Yeah, that's why you would see him. We think he might be able to help us with

the Greeley murder.

Help you? How?

I'm sure he's already told you everything he knows, Inspector.

If we could just speak to him, Mrs. Lynn.

The porter says he hasn't been to his office today.

So, where do you think he might be?

Mrs. Lynn?

Well, he's been rather preoccupied of late.

College math, as you understand.

Funding sources, I think it is.

Anyway, I must have been asleep when he got in and was still asleep when he

left. Left for what?

Out walking.

He does his best thinking when he's out walking.

Now, you really must excuse me. I have a rather important engagement to attend.

When he gets back, get him to give us a call.

I'm sure he'll be only too willing to help if he can.

What do you think?

Something's not right.

Call a car. Get on with it, Bundrick. I'll drive out the flat.

Sergeant Hathaway?

Have you seen Sefton Lim, Mr. Bundrick?

Sefton? No. Why? Is something wrong?

We'd like to speak to him.

Urgently.

But he seems to have gone missing.

Missing? What do you mean, missing? I mean missing.

Mr. Bundrick.

It's all right, Harry.

If we see or hear from Mr. Lynn, you'll be the first to know, Sergeant.

Now, good day.

Oh, the sons of the twice -born.

Is your husband at home?

Yes.

Come on in.

Come on.

Lay him down.

What? On his back.

Mr. Platt!

Mr. Platt!

Stay with us. Have you got a pen?

Yeah. Then break it open.

Then you die on me.

Your ambulance.

You saved his life.

I saw it being done once, when I was a nurse.

I wasn't sure I could replicate it, though.

Lucky for him, you could.

What do you think?

Just about.

Inspector Lewis is with me.

He wants to know if Sefton Lynn has been in touch.

No. Why?

He's gone missing.

They say everything's fine.

It didn't do any lasting damage.

They told me.

Now, you tell me.

What?

You could have let me die.

I didn't want you to die.

You must rest.

When I asked you to marry me,

there was no experiment.

It was because...

Sir? Mr. Lin, you don't know me. My name is Fury.

I'm a freelance journalist and I've been talking to a son of a twice -born.

If you'd like to know what he had to say about that little group, call when

you've returned from high table.

Say nine this evening.

The number's 993817.

Call the exchange.

See if they can give us a location for that number.

Why ask him to call a public telephone?

And why that one?

Fury.

She said her name was Fury, right?

Mm.

Well, the Arrhenius said the Furies were agents of the gods who punished

wrongdoing. They would harass and injure their prey, but never kill them.

And the gods would destroy their faith, make mad?

Yeah.

Or maybe her name's just Fury.

Like she said.

Come on.

Call when you've returned from high table. Say nine this evening.

The number's 993 -817.

What does it mean?

We think the son of the twice -born she's referring to is Dean Greeley, and

he had been talking to the journalist about the group.

We think your husband killed Greeley because of what he revealed.

No, he might be... Bacon.

These sons of the twice -born were into drugs in a major way.

Maybe Greeley was about to reveal all.

A future vice -chancellor with a past like that.

She sounds like this fury.

Age impossible to tell.

Social status, middle class, if her delivery doesn't need to go by.

And we have no idea who she could be?

Check with the National Union of Journalists, every other press

can think of. No female fury on file, anyway.

So, it may well be a mythical name.

In more ways than one.

I suppose, being who and what he is, Sefton then has dozens of contacts in

Oxford. We need to let them know that we're after him.

And Lewis?

Mum? About Lynne.

Yeah.

Who's this?

My name is Fury, Mr. Platt.

And right now I'm watching your wife in the garden.

Such a pretty woman.

What do you want?

You know, I'm sure you could so easily come out and catch me if it wasn't for

your unfortunate condition. Good for me, Mr. Platt.

Not so good for your pretty wife.

How could you possibly protect her, keep her out of harm's way?

I said what do you want?

Your friend, Mr. Lynn?

Such a clever man.

And yet I was able to manipulate him with considerable ease.

That should tell you something about me, Mr. Black.

Do you want me to clean the study, Mr. Platt?

No, not now.

Sorry? No, not now!

Morning. Lewis.

What?

Good morning.

For us, maybe.

But not for Seth and Lynn.

He took both barrels of a shotgun and he didn't see it coming.

He'd tried to defend himself. He'd expect to see wounds to the arms. But as

can see, nothing.

Sort of a torso.

He drove here, looks like he got out of his car, walked to me, this kid, and

then bang.

His clothes look new.

Doesn't look like he's been living rough.

So where have you been?

Oh, there was a dorky in his pocket.

All I need to do now is find the door that it opens.

Try his home and office.

If it doesn't fit them, then he must have got himself a bolt hole.

I'll have someone else get it for him.

Try rendered accommodation.

Something isolated, probably, and recently leased.

A ton of places around Oxford. Holiday homes, cottages.

Yeah, but we know precisely when he disappeared.

So if we check what properties were advertised in the local press that day,

might get lucky.

Inspector Lewis.

Come in.

Thank you.

You told me you had reason to mourn Dean Greeley's passing, Mr Platt.

Unless you can do the same for Sefton, Lynn, I'd like to know where you were

last night.

I was here.

Alone?

Well, I had a migraine, went to bed early.

But I'm sure I would have heard something if Theodore had left the

Anyway, why would you suspect me?

Lynn knew and trusted his killer, trusted him enough to get out of his car

dark track and go and talk to him.

And whoever did this seems to have enticed Lynn out into the open. Why?

Because it would be more convenient for a cripple? Is that what you're saying?

I'm saying I'm going to get whoever did this.

But in the meantime, a word of warning, Mr. Platt.

A warning?

These are dire times for members of your little group.

I think those that are left should be extra vigilant.

I'd be quaking in my boots if I could.

I've just had a chat with a member of the college council. They have some

letters relating to Sefton Lynn they think we should look at.

I'll go straight there, ma 'am.

Your mother sent those letters for the college council.

As you can see, they're far from complimentary about Sefton Lynn.

In fact, I'd say vitriolic was an understatement. I had no idea she was

this. Was your mother at home last night, Mr. Bundrick?

Yes, why?

Because sometime last night, Sefton Lynn was murdered.

I'm very sorry.

What's going on, Mr. Bundrick?

Greeley, now Lynn?

What's this all about?

Do you know anything at all?

I was...

To become a surgeon, you know.

I know.

And something... There came a time

when I couldn't carry on.

My mother blamed the other for that, for leading me astray.

She blamed Sefton, most of all. She even blamed him when I tried to...

There was something else altogether.

What?

What was it, Mr. Bundrick?

You can tell me.

I was, uh... Hurry!

Hurry! You should never have said these things about Jackson!

I stand by every word.

The idea of a man like that holding high office... Sefton's dead mother has been

murdered! Good!

If you catch whoever did it, thank him for me.

Can I help you?

I was hoping that this key would open that door.

What's the back door key?

Last refuge of Sefton Ling.

This is the owner, local farmer, John Stormton.

Who hired the cottage?

Not Lynn, it was a woman.

Forties, paying nothing, working class, he says.

Paid cash.

Name? Worth.

Patricia Worth.

I called in and asked them to run a check.

And? And they came up with a missing persons report.

Patricia Worth, a .k .a. Kathy Worth, reported missing in 1984 by close friend

Tina Daniels.

Both women lived on the Wellington Road and both... Both?

Patsy Worth and Tina Daniels had been cautioned a couple of times for

soliciting. What's the truth?

Wasn't Harry Bundry warned for a care problem?

He was.

Inspector.

How can we help you?

I'll tell him.

heard Lynn mention a Patricia Worth or Tina Daniels?

Theodore?

Hello?

What is it?

Patsy Worth was a prostitute.

Harry Bundrick used prostitutes.

Now, someone calling herself Patsy Worth has hired a cottage for Bundrick's

friend. Except in Lynn.

That name, Puffyworth, I don't buy it being picked at random.

It's too much of a coincidence.

Picked it by someone who knew her, then.

Yeah.

Like the woman that reported her missing, maybe.

Tina Daniels.

I've got a parlor on the platter state.

You said you didn't know Dean Greeley's friends.

And we find you outside one of their houses.

Your partner and one of his friends have been murdered already, and now you're

stalking another one. No.

I started thinking, if Dean was telling the truth, then it was an old friend

who'd asked him up to Oxford, and that old friend knew he'd be at the boat,

right? Go on. When Lynn went missing, I knew who was behind it all.

Who?

Platt.

He was always the manipulated puppeteer.

There was money in his brain.

Well, now, for some reason, he was killing them.

Why not Bundrick?

Harry? Never.

He loved Lynn.

Tried to get over him with his little friend, but alas, couldn't.

Little friend?

Harry visited a prostitute.

In fact, poor Harry was in the Red Light District when he tried to end it all.

Did you know her name?

Inga.

Patsy Worth and Tina Daniels. They're key to this. Somehow I know it.

Call me ages, but in their mid -forties, what kind of living could they make on

the street?

A niche market, perhaps?

There are easier ways, Mark.

Sir.

You were right. There is one on that street.

It's called Lovelines.

Thank you.

Lovelines. Hi. Can I speak to Tina, please?

Not in right now, mate.

Start the ship at five.

Did she take a break at all, then? I'd hate to miss her.

Between 8 .45 and 9 .15.

Okay, I'll call back then. Thank you.

She doesn't start till five, but she takes a break between 8 .45 and 9 .15,

which would explain why Liam was told to call the firebox at nine.

Public phone?

And she works in a place like that?

Well, I managed to roll in, come and call her, I think.

You know about these places, do you?

I have a feeling they don't want their officers tying up the line for personal

calls at all.

You say so.

Platt. Mr. Platt.

What do you want?

Don't you find it awfully quiet being all alone in that big house?

I'll be in touch with instructions.

Well, then.

Anne?

Yeah.

Great.

Yep, didn't seem to be any getting away from it.

So I see.

To Inspector Lewis from Margaret Gold.

She even signed it for you.

Yeah, I asked her for a primer.

Never expected one she'd written herself.

Ah, I think the gods would destroy it after that.

Just wanted some insight into the case.

That's... She's Platt's cleaning lady.

Well, maybe she cleans in there as well.

Call them.

Hi, Mark.

Love line.

Hi, has Tina arrived yet?

Just come in if you want to wait.

I'll call back.

It's her.

Platt's cleaning lady and Tina Daniels are the same person.

I've heard her speak.

No way could she be furious.

Could she?

Come on.

Mom,

would you mind?

This is meant to be, um, phone sex.

My name is Fury.

I'm a female journalist and I've been talking to some of the twice -born.

If you'd like to know what he had to say about that book... Are we recording?

OK, let's go.

Hello, this is Tina.

Who's calling?

Hello, Tina. My name is Michael.

Hello, Michael.

Have we chatted before?

Only I feel sure I would remember such a manly...

This is my first time.

My friend Robbie recommended me to you.

So, Tina, the thing is, I'm my girlfriend, and I've just broken up, and

feeling lonely. I know the feeling, Michael.

Such a terrible emptiness inside.

Such painful longing.

Such an aching...

Yes, Tina, I would like that very much.

That's wonderful.

Would you like to watch me all alone, lying atop my silk sheets on

my bed, Michael?

Tina, I've got my mum coming.

Tina Daniels.

Or would you prefer Fury?

Patsy Worth?

This is all about Patsy, isn't it, Tina?

Do you want to know why you're here?

You called Dean Greeley and enticed him to Oxford.

Then you telephoned Sefton Lynn and told him you were a freelance journalist

called Fury and that you were talking to a son of the twice -born.

What buttons did he push, Tina?

To get Sefton Lynn to go out and kill Greeley?

Next thing you do is hire a cottage from a Mr Staunton using the name Patsy

Worth, your close friend.

A close friend who you reported missing 20 years ago.

Cottage is for Lynne, who is by now trying to avoid the long arm of the law

this case, Inspector Lewis and myself.

But then, somehow, Lynne is coaxed out of hiding and is himself murdered.

Would you care to expand on any of this, Tina?

I've got nothing to say.

Tell us about Harry Bundrick.

He was a regular client of yours, wasn't he, way back then?

Bundrick drove to a less salubrious part of town to try and kill himself.

Why was that?

Enjoy? Not yet.

Warrant to search your premise.

There's an imprint on this pad, sir.

It's like... adrenochrome.

Adrenochrome? Does that mean something?

Yeah.

Um, it's a drug.

A very special drug from a very special place.

Where?

Well, to harvest adrenochrome, you have to go to hell itself.

What?

You got to murder for it.

Do you know what adrenochrome is, Tina?

No.

Somebody's written that word on this pad.

Look, you can see the imprint.

I got that pad from your flat.

Adrenochrome is a drug, Tina.

And Platt and his crew...

They thought drugs could work wonders for them. Couldn't get enough of them.

And now they wanted to try adrenochrome, Tina. But try it in its purest form.

Which, myth has it, gives the highest of highs.

But the thing about it is, in its purest form, adrenochrome comes from the human

adrenal gland.

When you remove that, the donor dies.

Is that what happened to Patricia Worth, Tina?

Your friend?

Bundrick said a friend of his needed a girl.

I recommended Patsy.

Bundrick called later to say she hadn't turned up when she was supposed to.

She had.

And being killed.

How do you know that?

Bondrick told me.

It was one night, about a year after Patsy went missing.

I got into his car.

And he told me what they did.

So that was your power over them?

You had all the facts?

I told Greeley that an old chum of his was about to spill the beans.

that if he wanted to find out who, he was to go to the boat and wait.

I told Lin that I was a freelance journalist and that Greeley had been

to me.

I told him that Greeley was dying and wanted to make a clean breast of

everything.

I told Lin that if he ever hoped to make vice -chancellor, he should silence

Greeley.

So you've been manipulating the sons of the twice -born to kill each other off?

In revenge for their role in Patricia Worth's death.

What happened to her, Tina?

They were taking drugs all night.

Patsy passed out.

That's when they decided to do it. All of them?

Yeah.

Lynn backed out. He ran away.

Left Patsy to her fate.

Bundrick couldn't do it.

Greeley couldn't do it.

So Platt did it.

They realized what they'd done. They panicked.

Greeley, Platt and Bundrick got rid of the body.

Bundrick said he couldn't remember where.

It was too out of his head.

Somewhere on Platt's land, he said.

Bundrick.

Bundrick said his guilt started right there.

He threw his ring into the grave.

After he finished telling me what they'd done, he took out his razor and slashed

his wrist.

Ring, damn you.

Ring!

The reason you didn't come forward was that you were protecting someone.

Tenth anniversary.

Roman made the coat especially.

Courtesy of the Bournemouth Register Office, a marriage certificate between

Tina, and Roman Sadikov.

Which means that Anne Sedekoff had to be in on this.

But just to help you avenge the death of an old friend?

I don't think so.

There had to be more to it than that.

Patricia Worth was Anne's mother, wasn't she?

It was Anne you were protecting at the time.

Who would want to tell a little girl that her mother had died like that?

Patsy was my best friend.

When she died, Anne was six.

I wasn't going to put her into care.

I looked after her.

Later on, I married Roman.

He was a good stepfather to Anne.

We had a good life until business went under.

Why did you use Patsy Worth's name when you booked the cottage?

Ling called Platt, said he needed a place to hide.

Anne said she'd help out.

Platt said I had to use a false name.

Somehow seemed right.

Patsy should be involved in it somehow, so I used her name.

Why did Anne's face catch light?

Because he's the only one left that knows precisely where her mother was

Tina, did Bundrick know where Lynn was hiding?

No. No.

So if the plan was for the sons of the twice -born to annihilate each other,

Platt had to be Lynn's killer. He's the only one that knew where he was.

But there would always have to be one left.

Bundrick?

Because he showed remorse.

So the only one left to be dealt with is Platt.

Yes! Theodore.

Theodore.

woman. She said, give me the directions and she'll let me go.

What directions?

What does she mean?

Listen to me, Anne.

Listen.

I'm going to give you directions.

Is that you?

Of Diana, I thought.

I've got that video.

I'll do that.

You murdered my mother, Theodore.

And your chums did nothing to stop you.

Rubbish! She was just some whore!

You were her daughter.

I'm afraid it is, Theodore.

I know what it means.

What? His best friend killed him because of a boat.

What? His best friend. Man's best friend.

Dogs.

I killed for you!

She said if I didn't kill them, you would be harmed. I did it for you!

I know you did.

We had intended for Bundrick to do it, but he refused.

But when you said you loved me, I knew you'd step up to the plate.

Is this where it happened?

No. Is this where you killed my mother?

No. Did she beg you for mercy, Theodore?

No. Asked you to have pity on her? No.

Did you laugh at that? No, no.

You can't imagine the daughter of a little whore causing your group to

Well, it's true. And you were the easiest to fool because you love me.

I love you, Anne. Bitch.

I love you. Bitch.

I take no great pleasure in doing this.

It was you who brought me to this point.

You! You bitch!

I'll spit you, you bitch!

I'll spit you!

Oh, dear.

I think they heard that, Theodore.

I'm afraid.

He tried to attack me and the dog.

The dog!

I'm glad it's over.

I'm glad.

Could have all been over a long time ago.

No.

It's left him persuading me to forget all about it.

God knows I've tried.

She was 16 when she became pregnant with me.

She decided to keep me, even when her parents put her out.

I sometimes wonder if I would have done the same thing.

When I was old enough, I found out about her.

What she did for a living.

I made Tina tell me the rest. But if you knew Platt murdered your mother, why

didn't you tell us?

Do you really think Platt would have led you to this place?

And this is what's really important to me.

Well, why marry him?

That wasn't a regular marriage.

That would have been out of the question.

I did it for the money.

We'll be wealthy women when we get our lives back.

When Her Majesty decides to give us our lives back.

I don't imagine that'll be too long.

After all, we never laid a finger on any of them.

We're best friends.

Killed him because of a boast.

Somebody sent me that.

It was this Greek called Actaeon.

He boasted that he was a better hunter than the goddess Artemis.

So she turned him into a stag and his own dog tore him to pieces.

You think I sent it and you want to know why?

Well, if I had sent it, I may have been thinking.

Since you can't have your own revenge, maybe in some small way you can share in

mine.

After all, if you'd worked it out, you could have stopped me.

But you didn't.

You don't have to do this.

Yes, I do.

You had a chance to look at my book.

Oh, yeah.

Foolish is the child who forgets a parent's piteous death.

In lecture, in the play, biographically.

But is that utterance truly wise?

Would it not have been better for Anne to forget her parent's piteous death?

Well, maybe she just couldn't forget.

Thanks for your help, Professor, and for your book.

Goodbye, Inspector.

I've

been

thinking about the Open University.

What about plain old history?

Oh, nah.

You're a subject of school, man.

Anyway, I think you might be right.

Maybe not what I'm wanting right now. Not really.

You haven't let the case put you off.

What, Platt, you mean?

Learning didn't make him a killer.

Condemnation for Platt. Yet barely a harsh word for Anne.

If she did send you that riddle, she's guilty of premeditated murder.

Doesn't that make her just like Platt?

Not in my book.