All language subtitles for Lewis - 02x01 - And The Moonbeams Kiss The Sea_624x352

Police, Zorro, O -Diamond, Stainford,
Trainer, Inny, Hepton, Cup 4, Snug and

Lettuce, O -Diamond, Stainford, Trainer,
Airfield, Cup 5, Super 0, O -Diamond,

Stainford, Trainer, Inny, Hepton, 6,
Club, O -Diamond, O -Diamond, Stainford,

One of you could turn them over.

You're all students of mathematical
probability.

Conclusion? You cheated.

Give that man a double first.

And the sunlight clasped the earth.

And the moonbeams kissed.

See, what are all these kittings worth
if

thou kiss not me?

That's nice.

It's that guy, you know, Shelley.

Do I get a kiss?

I'm working.

I'm not available to answer the phone,
but if you'd like to leave a message,

please do so after the tone.

It's me.

I'm in the ship.

What are you doing here?

Nobody's died, sir.

No, you'll be missing your target.

No, this is a social call.

I'm having a party.

It's a special sort of birthday.

Think of a number, then forget about it
immediately.

Thank you.

Oh, if you'd like to bring anybody... I
haven't really got anybody.

You could always bring the dishy
Sergeant Hathaway.

Hathaway?

Dishy?

Considering. Considering?

Well, I'm out of practice with parties
and such.

And it's louder than I'd expected.

Well, they were all medical students
once upon a time. A couple of guys would

lift stuff and they'd revert.

Hey, do you play cards?

Met the cribbage with me grandad years
ago.

But just for matches.

Some of the guys are organising a late
night poker session.

Probably not for matches.

Not my scene.

Where's James?

I have no idea.

Didn't fancy being scowled at by a room
full of doctors and nurses.

Bad enough for civilians.

Are you having a good time?

You know what they say, if you've heard
one joke about ghouls, you've heard them

all.

They're planning a poker school indoors.

You play poker?

No, I play chess.

Why doesn't that surprise me?

I suppose what I'm really thinking is,
what time can I decently get up and

leave?

We could invent an emergency call.

Maybe there is a God.

If I was sure about that, I wouldn't
have joined the police force.

That's quite serious.

Inspector Lewis.

We probably might need backup.

You didn't ask for any?

No. There's nobody there.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening.

Who made the call?

The chap who lives here. Name of
Stringer. Some sort of professor by the

of things. Lots of books.

Reported seeing an intruder in the
garden.

That's him.

I think you might appreciate the
reassurance of a senior officer, don't

can try asking him.

Don't go anywhere. We need to lift back
to town.

Where's the surprise?

Detective Inspector Lewis.

I simply reported an intruder in my
garden. I wasn't expecting a four -part

conference. Coincidence.

We were at a party across the road. Dr.
Hobson? Yes, I know Dr. Hobson. Though

not well enough to be invited to her
party.

Mercifully. Doctors.

One or two glasses of champagne, they
revert to being medical students again.

This intruder, if he were to find his
way into your house, is there anything

worth stealing?

Well, there are some first editions,
which are probably quite valuable.

I can't imagine the average burglar
knowing which ones to steal and then

them off down the local pub. I suppose
if such a burglar existed, Oxford might

be the place to find him.

But you saw an intruder?

I heard the neighbour's dog barking.

Ah, dogs.

It's what they do best.

I looked out of the window and saw,
which is to say I thought I saw somebody

the garden.

There have been a number of burglaries
in the area, so I called the police, as

recommended by the leaflets from
Neighbourhood Watch.

though I think I was putting my faith in
the deterrent effect of the flashing

blue lights.

Seems to have worked.

Could it be personal?

You'll have to explain.

Well, if, as you say, there's nothing of
obvious street value... I think the

sergeant's wondering whether you might
have enemies.

I teach English literature.

My specialty is the romantic poet of the
early 19th century.

Keith, Shelley, Byron, the rest of the
guys in the band.

Among others.

It's not a profession which tends to
attract violent enemies.

Now, would I be right in thinking we
have exhausted the possibilities of this

discussion? I think so, don't you,
Sergeant?

Unquestionably.

Laura? Hi.

Listen, sorry to be party -published,
but something's come up. Taxi.

If I wanted to be a minicab driver...
Sir.

Sir. I'll call you tomorrow.

Soon these burning miseries will be
extinct.

I shall ascend my funeral power
triumphantly and exult in the agony of

torturing flame. The light of that
conflagration will fade away.

My ashes will be swept into the sea by
the wind.

For God's sake, there are much more of
these.

Good, isn't it?

Speaking as the English student in the
room, I think it's terminally naff.

Speaking as a mathematician, I agree.
But you read quadratic equations for

Thank you.

No, he doesn't.

You need to start some prizes for new
marketing.

Then let me finish.

I think we should put it to the vote.

Yeah, I second the vote. I'd rather you
told us about Tolkien playing the banjo.

It was here last November that a...
fully grown crocodile was spotted.

Photographs appeared in the press, there
were items on the national news, and

although the creature was never caught,
there were unconfirmed reports that two

dogs disappeared without a trace at the
time, as well as a prize -winning

Siamese cat belonging to a professor of
biochemistry.

Philip has some photographs of this
crocodile, which make very attractive

rather unusual postcards, available at a
nominal charge as a lasting souvenir of

the secret Oxford they would rather.

you didn't know about.

And that concludes our tour. Thank you
for being such a lovely audience.

You're a credit to Charles Darwin.

I'd like to have a word. Do you have a
question about the crocodile?

Golly gosh, formidable police presence.

I don't know, I was just passing.

I don't know much I enjoyed the bit of
your tour, that's all.

I have to tell you there have been
complaints about you.

Oh, well, we can't give people their
money back. It's a free service. Who's

complaining?

Tourist office. They just tell people to
fuck their lives.

Well, life's more fun than the truth,
don't you think?

You know, politicians lie all the time.
You don't follow them about, do you?

But if you want to go down the history
as a wrestling, poor, struggling art

student, then now's your moment.

Put the cuffs on me or come quietly. Art
student? So this is all art?

Naturally. I mean, everything that
matters is art.

If we gave you a free postcard, would
that count as a bribe?

Absolutely.

Give us a free postcard.

Philip, give the nice policeman a
postcard.

I need a word with the dynamic

duo.

Would that be a smart?

It would.

The desk had a complaint about you two.
From?

Last night from a man named Stringer.

Dr. Stringer, lecturer in English
literature.

The same.

He said you turned up on his doorstep
uninvited and that you were both drunk

facetious. We'd been drinking at Dr.
Hobson's party, but we were not drunk.

I don't understand facetious.

Something to do with dogs barking and
romantic poets.

That would be me. I referred to Keats,
Byron and Shelley as the guys in the

band.

Fairly harmless jest, I would have
thought.

To an Oxford academic, that counts as
facetious. I don't even want to know

the barking dogs.

Will you promise not to do it again?
Good.

You see, the principle behind a
partnership such as yours is that the

officer matures to the level of the
senior, rather than that the senior

should regress.

I'll bear it in mind.

Was it a good party?

Compared with what?

Serves me right for asking.

Oh, facetious.

All that and dishy, too.

See, I got the names right. As long as
you get names right, you get away with

murder.

That's all right.

And they said a suspicious death.

There are over six million items in the
library.

Books, manuscripts and related
materials.

They're stored across several acres on
several floors.

Anything you order at the front desk is
with you within an hour.

Tell me about the dead man.

Mr. Chapman, yes, he worked here. Worked
here.

As a senior maintenance engineer.

They found him in the basement stacks.

Through there.

Thank you.

Jim!

We need to know who had access to this
area.

If only the people that work down here,
we wouldn't have found it without a

guide. Hi.

He was shot at close range.

With? Small caliber handgun. One of
those pretty little design accessory

the dealers like to carry.

It's not the sort of place you'd lie in
wait on the off chance, is it?

Any sign of a patrol?

Some bruising to the face, as if he'd
been in a fight. But probably not today.

You realize what we've got, don't you,
sir?

What? The body in the library.

Now, that is definitely facetious.

Yes, that's Reg.

Thanks, Mrs. Chapman.

Cup of tea, chat, and we'll find you a
car to take you home, all right?

Amazing.

What is?

We just found a dead body at the
Bodleian.

A body at the Bodleian.

I weep for Adonais, he is dead.

I weep for Adonais, though my tears thaw
not the frost which binds her dearer

head.

Who's that?

Your new man, Shelley.

He's writing about death.

Hmm.

I like him better when he writes about
kissing.

You know, all beings kiss the sea, that
bit.

Death.

Kissing, they're all parts of the same
thing.

Sort of heads and tails.

Get to work.

Come on.

Do as you're told.

I always do as I'm told.

Sorry about the house.

We used to have a lovely house.

Then he lost his job.

Which job?

His proper job.

He was an engineer at the car factory.

Then it all went belly up.

I think that's what hurt him most.

I'm a skilled man, he'd say, and look at
me now, doing odd jobs for a bunch of

librarians.

Librarians seem to have paid enough for
this work.

I could do it in his sleep.

But the money was crap, so it didn't
help with the problem.

Problem?

Has nobody told you yet?

No, not yet. What problem?

His gambling.

Oh, he's a gambler.

Oh, he could bet on anything.

Horses, dogs, football, flies crawling
up a window.

So you don't really see flies anymore,
do you?

I wonder where all the flies have gone.

Funny that.

Tell me about his gambling.

What cost him his job? His proper job.

cost us our home, our proper home.

And any day now, we're going to cost him
his marriage.

Who's the reader?

Reg.

He said working in the library, he got
interested in old books.

He said they were beautifully made.

He liked beautiful things.

He said no one knew how to make things
anymore.

Well, they're supposed to take things
from the Bodleian.

You always return them.

Would you like me to return them?

I'm part of caring.

Well, thank you. I'll let myself out.

It was here in this public house in the
late 1940s that J .R .R. Tolkien,

author of The Lord of the Rings, played
the banjo in a traditional jazz band

called the Thames Valley Cotton Pickers.

Now, although none of this is actually
stated in any of the official

biographies, there are still people in
Oxford who will remember the great man

after a couple of pints of locally
brewed beer, giving a sensational

of I Wish I Could Shimmy Like My Sister
Kate.

Now, if you could all follow the
parasol.

under this very bridge that the famous
Russian spies Guy Burgess, Kim Philby

Donald Maclean would gather to plot the
overthrow of the royal family and

British parliamentary democracy.

Excuse me, I have a question.

I'm here to help. I thought those guys
were at Cambridge.

Exactly, the Cambridge spies.

And what better way to cover their
tracks than to hold their clandestine

meetings here in Oxford.

Now we're... We're going to go down to
the crocodile -infested river.

Suppose I say to you, I don't believe a
word in any of this stuff.

But there are photographs of the
crocodile.

And I would say to you, sir, do you
believe that all men and women are

equally with certain inalienable rights,
such as life, liberty, and the pursuit

of happiness? I hold those to be self
-evident truths.

It's easier to believe in a crocodile
swimming in the charwell.

It's quite extraordinary, isn't she?

Indeed she is.

Seems to be impressing our American
friend.

Americans impress easily.

Yeah, he had a fiver on each.

This one finished fourth.

The other one was a non -runner, so at
least he gets half his money back.

He doesn't, I'm afraid.

Why not?

He's dead.

We found those in his pocket.

What happened?

Seems he was murdered.

Wow.

Did you take those bets? No, that was
me.

Sorry, couldn't help overhearing.

What happened?

You are?

Eric Jameson.

He's our resident genius.

Expecting your maths.

Working my way through college.

You knew Mr Chapman?

Same as you know any of the regulars.

You know him and you don't know him.

How did he seem this morning?

Not the same as usual.

He never had much to say. He just placed
his bets and left.

He never hung around, but... Well, he
was officially at work.

And I shouldn't really be here. I've got
a seminar.

Hey, off you go.

Is that all right?

I never stand in the way of scholarship.

See you in the morning.

Mr Chapman was heavily in debt. Can you
shed any light on that for me?

He didn't know I was earning money, if
that's what you mean.

Do you allow credit betting?

For people like Reg, it was strictly
cash.

We're like banks.

We only lend money to people who don't
really need it.

Have you seen his family?

We'll be seeing his wife, yeah.

Oh, we are a fiver for the non -runner.

We could arrange for a policewoman to
come home with you, help with the

children. No need. We'll probably go to
my brother's.

Tell me about your brother.

Mick. Mick Jeffries.

Works in the building trade.

Solid as a rock.

Him and his wife have been on at me
about leaving Rudge for I don't know how

long. Did your husband ever get
counselling for his gambling problem?

Yes, I think he did.

Do you know who he saw?

No, it's anonymous, that sort of thing,
isn't it?

Like alcoholics, a sort of secret
society.

Sort of worked for a bit.

It was all ups and downs.

One minute there'd be no money, then
there'd be money, and then it was back

square one.

It got quite good about a month ago.

But that could be because he'd had a
couple of winners.

Did he ever get into a fight?

Came home Saturday night with a bruise
over his eye, but I didn't dare ask him

about it.

Where had he been?

Dogs, probably. Can I go now?

We'll organise your car.

Mrs Chapman, we've got something for
you.

It's from the bookmakers. Apparently
your husband backed a horse and... Who

Just like him to back a woman today.

The non -runner, actually, so... The
money's returned. It's only five pounds,

but... It may only be five pounds to
you.

I was somewhat alarmed to see so many of
you insist on referring to the writer's

intentions when grappling with the
mysteries of the great romantic poets.

You're not in the sixth form now.

You're supposed to be grown up and
mature.

So, let us spell this out.

Keats, Shelley, Byron, Coleridge.

And the rest of what a passing stranger
recently called the guys in the band

generally had no idea what their
intentions were.

They were too intoxicated with drink,
with drugs, with love, with their own

vanity.

Even after writing their poems, they had
no clear idea, which happily gives me

something to teach and you something to
learn.

Hands up.

Who is the guilty party?

I think it might be you.

Mayor Culper, you will be happy to know
that this is a message written in clear,

grammatical and ambiguous English.

Intentions made clear?

Perfectly.

Because this is a message not from a
poet or an artist.

but from a mathematician.

Now, where were we?

Here are details of all the people who
work in the library, full -time, part

-time and temporary.

I did ask, thank you.

Tell me about the security here. You've
got more than six million books,

original manuscripts.

All that must be worth a fortune.

Yes, they're priced beyond rubies.

And if I tell you our security system,
you probably won't believe me.

Try me.

Everyone who joins the Bodleian has to
read out loud.

I hereby undertake not to remove from
the library or to mark, injure or deface

in any way any volume, document or other
object belonging to it or in its

custody. Not to bring into the library
or kindle therein any fire or flame and

not to smoke in the library.

And I promise to obey all the rules of
the library.

Sounds like my old wolf cub promise.

Does it work?

Yes, it does, as a matter of fact.

We lose far fewer items than any other
library in the country.

Don't mention a murder.

Fair point.

But it is the first one we've had in 500
years.

And we did discover these at Chapman
Pest.

Ah.

Hmm, that's interesting.

Are they valuable?

They're quite old, early 19th century,
but old age in itself doesn't

make things valuable.

The older I get, the more I realise
that.

No, it's just, if his gambling debts
were as large as you tell me, then these

wouldn't scratch the surface.

But I'll check with the experts and get
back to you with some figures.

How easy or difficult is it to check
whether something has gone missing?

Not impossible, but time -consuming.

We'll do our best.

OK, here's one last teaser for you.
We're in the final of a darts

Player A needs 117, which I'm sure
you'll work out in a try. It means the

of treble 19, a single 20 and a double
20. Player B...

Needs 83, where the standard finish is
triple 17 and double 16. However, player

A has a career success rate of 80%.
Player B has a career success rate of

This time next week, you'll tell me who
you think is going to win and what odds

the bookmakers should be offering on the
results.

If it's easy, it'll be at Reading or
Keele.

That's all, folks.

Eric, could you spare a minute?

Yes, of course.

I've been looking into this bloke, your
brother -in -law.

Put pressure on Mrs Chapman to walk out
on the marriage.

You better follow me, lads, to get drunk
and feed people up.

Have you ever shot anyone?

I'm sure he'll tell us.

Did you get on with your brother -in
-law, Mr Jeffreys?

Look, if a bloke wants to screw up his
own life, that's one thing.

What is his wife and kids? That's
something else. And when the wife is

sister? Got it in one.

You ever hit him?

Depends on what you mean by it.

As in the last time you were up in court
for it?

Listen, that's all on the record, right?
I've paid my fines, done my community

service, the full rehabilitation, all
the bollocks you can check.

And Reg's chum.

Saturday night.

I'll give him a couple of slaps outside
the dog trunk.

Why? Why?

Because he promised me sister he'd stop
going, and there he was.

And where were you earlier today?

Here.

Witnesses?

That roof?

Weren't here yesterday. It's there now.

The roof is a witness.

That's a thing.

Listen, listen. I'm on a bone to steal
here, right? If I was going to kill

anybody, I'd do it in my own time.

All I did was yell at the guy at regular
intervals.

I would suggest that he get counselling.

Let me put it this way. If I have a
friend who has a gambling problem and I

to you for help, what is the first thing
that would happen?

Yeah, I understand about
confidentiality, but it's a murder

take priority.

A name, address and phone number would
be deeply appreciated.

Hang on a minute, let me write this
down.

He's a professor of mathematics,
apparently.

With a gambling problem.

I don't know whether that's a
qualification.

Isn't that how alcoholics work?

We'll be big and grown up and ask.

We're hoping you can tell us something
about gamblers anonymous.

Try me.

Please, get down.

Well, for a start, where do you fit in?

Well, if someone has a problem and he or
she rings the number in the phone book,

then... I'm the one who's the initial
point of contact.

Does that mean that you have or used to
have a gambling problem?

I gamble, but I don't have a problem.

What sort of gambling?

I play bridge.

For high stakes?

Sometimes.

But I usually win, so that does somewhat
minimise the risk.

I suppose it would.

But if you usually win, how did you get
involved with the organisation?

Well, a friend of mine did have a
problem and I tried to help him.

And once I dealt into the game, I found
it difficult to walk away.

It's fascinating, and no point in being
coy. It relates to my academic work. I

specialise in probability theory.

How to beat the bank.

That's one way of putting it.

We're investigating the death of a man
called Chapman.

We know he had gambling problems.

We think he might have come to you for
help.

Well, let me check.

Reginald Chapman, is that the man?

Yeah.

I can confirm he came to us.

And what happened then?

He attended group sessions and we gave
him a mentor.

Somebody he could go to if he was in
trouble.

Could you give us the name of the
mentor?

Well, I need to ask his permission.

Yeah, well, if you could speak to him,
let us have his name by the end of the

afternoon. It shall be done.

Anything else? I have a facetious
question.

Which is?

Where do you get the necklace?

It's rather fun, don't you think?

She's a student.

Now Buckley makes jewellery out of bits
of recycled rubbish.

I call it my meaningful gesture towards
saving the planet.

And will we do it, do you think? Save
the planet?

Applying your laws of probability?

I think it's on a par with beating the
bank.

Another academic nutcase.

You're reading my mind. I know.

Hi, it's me.

Would you give me a call when you've got
a moment?

Fairly quickly, for preference. It's
about Reg Chapman.

Love you.

Inspector Lewis, it's Naomi Norris.

We seem to have turned up something
rather interesting about the books that

Chapman took home.

Yes, half an hour is fine.

Bye.

I'll see you there.

Mr. Story? Guy out jogging along the
top.

Saw the body, called upon his mobile.

Any identification?

Yeah, student union court.

She'd be called Nell Buckley.

She had this in her pocket.

When the sunlight clasps the earth and
the moonbeam kiss the sea, what were all

those kissings worth if thou kiss not
me?

Shelley.

When the boy's in the band.

Yeah, he was a student at Oxford for a
while and got sent down having an affair

with a married woman. Sounds like every
student's favourite role model.

Oh, God.

What?

Well, I met her just the other day. She
was running guided tours that were a

pack of lies. She was lovely.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

Do you know who's here?

An art student, Nell Buckley. I don't
know what I hope to find.

Come again?

Students have an above -average tendency
to commit suicide, especially when

there's a convenient river.

I've never met anybody less likely to
commit suicide.

You don't smack yourself in the back of
the head before you throw yourself in

the river, either.

Quite so.

She bribed me with a postcard of a
crocodile.

Oh, that's her.

We're putting up a new exhibition of
student work.

I'm no expert, but this is very good,
isn't it? Yes, Philip, it's quite

remarkable. Philip?

Philip Horton.

He's something of a throwback.

You'll have to explain that.

Well, this art school by long tradition
has always focused on the more academic,

old -fashioned virtues of drawing and
painting.

Obviously, that's all changed now. It's
a very broad church, as you can see.

Yeah, I can see.

But when Philip turned up, he reminded
us of what was said about Claude Monet.

He's only an eye.

But what an eye. I mean, obsessed with
setting down what he sees in front of

him. No more, no less.

Surprised he wasn't there.

Where? Where you found Nell, by the
river.

They'd sit there for hours painting the
sky and the water. Are you saying they'd

go there together?

Oh, most days, yeah. Where might we find
Philip today?

Well, if he's not by the river, you'll
probably find him in the Ashmolean.

He stares at Turner and Constable trying
to figure out how they did it. Thank

you.

Philip Horton.

Constable.

He wanted to get better at painting
clouds.

So he went out day after day painting
clouds.

That's the way the clouds looked on that
day.

They've never looked like that before
and they'll never look like that again.

think that's amazing.

Nothing is ever the same again.

We're told now Buckley is a friend of
yours.

I think so, yes.

Girlfriend?

You might say.

Are you not with her today? No.

We had a row.

Would you like to come with us? Tell us
about this row.

I gave you a postcard. You're the
policeman.

Yes. I'm the policeman.

Come and tell us about the row.

All right.

Now, Philip, do you understand why we
need to talk to you? Not really, but

interesting. I've never talked to a
policeman before, apart from the other

so that's twice in a week.

Is it all right if I, um... It's fine.

See, the thing is, we're hoping you
might be able to help us with some

we're making about Nell Buckley.

She'd ask Nell about Nell.

She'd know.

You said you had a row. What was that
about?

Same thing as usual.

Well, if you'd told us what the argument
was about, do you think we'd

understand? We argue about what it is.

And what is it?

Nobody really knows. It's what we argue.

See, I can't do what she can do, and she
can't do what I can do. What can she

do? She's really good at making up
amazing things.

Like crocodiles in rivers?

Yeah.

Amazing things like that. I can't do
that.

What can you do that she can't do?

Well, that's terrific.

You can have that if you like.

You sure?

I think I need to do another now. I
don't know what you look like.

Excuse me.

Yeah, speak.

Would you like me to do one of you?
Okay. Yeah, please.

It's all right if I move.

It doesn't make any difference.

The girl's parents are at the hospital
and I need to talk to Dr. Hobbs and so

on. I'll talk to our young genius, ask
him what he was doing this morning.

Wish you luck.

Have you always been good at drawing?

I suppose so.

It's fairly easy.

Faces are easier to draw than clouds of
water. Stay still.

Did you go down to the river today?

Nell told me to meet her at 10.

Got there at 9 .37. She wasn't there.
She still wasn't there at 10, so I went

the gallery.

Did you sometimes not turn up?

I was forgetting things.

I remember things.

Was Nell your girlfriend?

Was.

Before the row?

Some people say so.

Do you live together?

We live in the same house with some
other people.

Who else lives in the house?

James Coop, I'm reading history. Jane
Evans, reading English. Charles

Williamson, reading PPE.

And Eric Jameson, reading mathematics.

Would you like me to draw them for you?
No, no, you're all right. Just tell me

what you're doing this morning.

I got up at twenty -three minutes past
eight, washed my hands and face and

cleaned my teeth. I went downstairs, had
a boil in the kettle, and I had an egg.

Yeah, hi, it's me Have you seen the
local newspaper

Yeah, well the question is should I be
concerned

Yeah,

yes, I would like to be reassured Thank
you

He drew that in about 60 seconds.

That was it. He didn't need to look at
me. Just one glance.

I'm not a psychoanalyst.

I wasn't going to quote you on evidence.

I just wanted a friendly opinion.

Could the lad be, I don't know,
autistic? Is that the word?

I don't even know what I've seen on TV
documentaries that I wasn't watching

from. No, the trouble is, all these
words are dangerous.

Autism, dyslexia, bipolarity,
schizophrenia.

We throw people into those boxes and we
kid ourselves that we've explained

everything and solved the problems.

And we've done neither.

I'm allowed to say he's a bit weird.

But I have to say he's differently
normal.

You can say anything you like to me.

Something these days.

Listen, the boy's obviously got
exceptional skills.

He can see things and reproduce them on
paper with no apparent effort.

And you could argue that all artists are
abnormal in that respect.

Same way a musician can listen to an
entire symphony orchestra and hear the

instrument that plays a wrong note.

He reckons he's no good at ideas.

That may well be true.

He may have trouble making connections,
joining the dots to make sense of his

world.

Or it's possible that all his life
people have told him he's no good at

and he's ended up believing them.

And would he be capable of murder?

I don't know.

Unlikely, except... What?

He might.

He might, if someone told him to do it.

Have you told Philip what this is all
about?

No, I haven't.

About Nell Buckley -Philip. He wanted to
know if she's my girlfriend.

Do you know why we're so interested in
her?

No. It's because she's dead.

I see.

I've got a key.

This is our living room.

We share it.

Through that door is our kitchen. We
share that too.

I'm sorry to say, would you like a cup
of tea?

No, thank you.

Any other bedroom each?

Yes, one each. Would you like to see
mine?

Yes, please.

Borrow one of these, Philip?

Only for a lend.

It's not a good work. I'll give you a
receipt for it.

You can have that.

We'll take very good care of it.

Were you here today?

Yes.

I told Miss Hathaway at 9 .37 a .m., but
now wasn't the best moment to look for

Cloud.

Why is she dead?

We don't know, but we want to find out.

I think you might be able to help us.

May we look at her room now?

Yes.

She collected stuff.

So I see.

What's this one?

That was her explosion at Baleo. She
tried to blow up Baleo. It was a

I see.

And here's the famous copy, darling.

That one wasn't News 10 with Trevor
McDonald.

Uh... Randy?

They're like a challenge.

I'll have the girls' bedroom ground
floor first left.

Don't mistake the rubbish for rubbish.

It could be crucial.

Oh, God.

Is this about Nell?

It is.

Do you live here? Yes.

Eric James and Philly Mathematics. We
met at the betting shop.

Is Philip at home?

We left him painting a picture of the
kitchen.

Oh, how is he?

Sorry, it's a silly question.

Why is it a silly question?

I've lived in the same house as him for
a year.

He's an amazing guy, but I never have
the slightest idea what's going on

How would you describe his relationship
with Nell Butler?

Well, weird.

Seriously weird.

She bossed him around, and he did as she
told him, like a little puppy dog.

Except dogs sort of know how to live,
don't they?

Philip doesn't.

It's like he was born without a proper
book of instructions.

You didn't get on with him?

Philip, you can sort of...

I tolerate him.

But Nell, we all loved her.

I can't let Phillipy let you get near
enough.

But Nell was just... Fabulous, yeah.

We'll be back later to talk to
everybody, but we're here if you need

We need to get to the Bodleian.

I've been keeping them hanging on all
day.

No, don't worry. I can understand that a
body in the river takes priority over a

couple of old books.

These are the books you found at Reg
Chapman's house.

Now, when we checked, we discovered that
some of the endpapers had been removed.

You see?

The blank pages that you find at either
end of most books.

Why would anyone do that?

Well, one possible explanation is that
they were used to make forgeries from

period in question, in this case, the
early 19th century.

And these?

Well, we did a little spot check on the
period, and these turned up.

Love's Philosophy and A Dream of the
Unknown. They're both by Shelley.

And the sunlight clasps the earth, and
the moonbeams kiss the sea.

How can you tell these are forgeries?
They look very good to me. Well, I can't

tell personally. I'm a mere
administrator, but this is Oxford.

There's a Shelley scholar on every
street corner.

And you can do scientific analysis,
can't you, on the paper and so on?

and time -consuming. And science only
proves what an expert authority can spot

using instinct and experience.

So that's what we did. We called in an
expert.

Somebody steals the originals and tells
them and replaces them with forgeries.

We imagine that's what might have
happened. And how much would these

be worth?

Ooh, £20 ,000, £30 ,000 a time.

Who buys them?

Someone with too much money and too much
vanity.

Who was your expert? We might need one
ourselves.

Dr. Stringer. He lectures in English
literature.

This looks promising.

Yeah, that's it, isn't it?

Medical evidence is that Nell was banged
on the head and dropped in the river

early this morning.

Our young, born -again Claude Monet
admits that he was here this morning at

.37 but says that Nell wasn't. Do we
believe him?

He's very precise about everything. I
can tell you in great detail what he had

for breakfast.

Sort of neurotic.

Quite possibly autistic, something along
those lines.

Maybe sick of carrying out her orders.

Or old -fashioned jealousy.

She's seeing someone else, one of the
other students in the house.

Well, I don't buy him as a jealous
lover. He doesn't feel emotion quite the

that other people do.

That could be rage and frustration.

She has all the ideas. He can't even
manage one.

My best offers are definite and maybe.

All right, let's try coming in a
different door.

We've got two murders.

Reg Chapman and Nell Buckley.

Is there a link?

Yes.

I've decided. What is the link?

Shelley.

Hello?

Oh, thanks for calling back.

Goodbye.

Another link.

Make my day.

That's Professor Walters, who works for
Gamblers Anonymous. She says that Reg

Chapman's mentor was Dr. Stringer.

I'll block it anyway.

Dr.

Stringer. Professor Lewis.

Do come in.

Maxima Culpa.

Four, five years ago, I developed a
serious gambling habit.

Addiction, to be precise.

Cost me my marriage.

I sought help a little too late in the
day, admittedly. What kind of gambling?

Cards. Poker.

But then a good friend weeded me off it
and I started playing bridge, which

is... Rather less lethal.

It's quite a leap, isn't it, from
studying English romantic poets to

high -stakes poker?

Superficially, yes, but, um... Well,
I've talked about this a lot in group

sessions. You wouldn't believe how we
all go on about our problems. And, um...

think I was looking for some kind of
risk -taking in my life that I wasn't

finding in my work.

And, of course, the poets in question.
Keith, Shelley, Coleridge.

And the rest of the guys in the band, to
use your striking phrase, they all

believed in living dangerously.

Tell us about Reg Chapman.

Gamblers and reformed gamblers tried to
support each other.

I'd survived it, come through the other
side.

If Chapman was in trouble, he would come
to me for support.

That was the theory.

Did it work?

I'm afraid not.

He was too far gone.

I saw my role as lending him support. He
saw my role as lending him money.

Did you lend him money?

You don't lend money to men like
Chapman. You give it to them and you

it again.

While we're in confessional mode, that
night when I called the police, I'm

pretty sure it was Chapman who was in my
garden.

Wanting to borrow money?

Yes. Couldn't he just knock at the front
door?

I think he'd moved beyond that stage.

You'd gone over the edge.

I was genuinely concerned for my safety.

Could his death be connected to the Ford
Shelley manuscripts?

I'd go that you'd seen them.

Truly, I have no idea.

You've seen the manuscripts. How good
are they?

Well, they're good enough to fool a
casual observer.

They could have lain in the archives for
years unnoticed.

How do you feel about forgery of that
kind?

It's contemptible.

Couldn't be clearer.

Well, thank you for talking to us, Dr.
Stringer.

Is it like being an alcoholic?

I'm sorry?

Well, I've never been either, but I'm
told that you never stop being

You're an alcoholic who's chosen not to
drink.

Is it the same with gambling?

I don't think people are that simple.

We're all different.

That's what makes this interesting.

He's a glib sod, isn't he?

One day you're going to meet an Oxford
academic that you actually like.

I think I liked him better when he was
being nasty.

not taught her own.

And with no stain, she faded.

Like a cloud which out swept its rain.
For God's sake, Bill.

It's all Shelley's fault.

It's all you've shut it.

Nell was remarkable, but she didn't
always know where to draw the line

genuine work of the imagination and,
well, let's be kind, a pathetic

practical joke.

The explosion at Balliol.

We saw the photograph in her room.

She left an empty cardboard box on the
steps of Balliol, then made an anonymous

phone call...

Sinister foreign accent to say there was
an empty cardboard box on the steps of

Balliol.

Bomb squad moved in. They had a
controlled explosion and now made a

Posted it on the net and also submitted
it as part of their coursework.

And the crocodile in the river.

The same.

Pain in the arse, but is it art?

This is what I wanted to show you.

We had an exhibition of student work
last year, and Phil Horton and Nell

showed some pieces together.

In fact, it was the first time we had.
They were working as a team.

When you say team, do you mean
romantically?

Or do kids not do romance anymore?

I'm not sure if sex came into it or not.
I mean, you've met Phil.

You never know what he's thinking or
feeling.

But Nell seemed to make some sort of
connection.

There.

What am I looking at?

Well, this is a letter from Shakespeare
to his leading actor, Richard Burbage,

complaining about his performance in
Hamlet.

This is from Walter Raleigh to Elizabeth
I.

And this is a love letter from Shelley
to Mary Godwin before they were married.

So these are joke letters.

Yeah. If you look carefully, you'll see
that Raleigh tells the Queen not to

forget the notes of Milkman.

Shakespeare has a bit of a moan about
Arts Council grants, and Shelley

apologises to Mary about leaving her
mobile on the Northern Line.

Did they sell it, do you think?

No, but I'm told the local English lit
crowd were very impressed.

I mean, it's all balls, but apparently
Phil had the handwriting off to

perfection. What had she been doing
recently?

Said it was something big, but she
wouldn't tell us what it was.

Prepare to be amazed, she told me.

I wish you might have talked to some of
the other students about it. You could

talk to her friends at the house.

It's been done.

We're too short.

Phil's probably painting the bloody
river.

Again.

And, uh, Charles Williamson?

He's got a tutorial.

He's grovelling for a fair.

Will he get one?

Passed the post and weighed in.

Betting shop talk, sorry.

Do you enjoy working there? It beats the
hell out of...

Selling alka -pops to teenagers in a
wine bar.

Right?

That's what you do?

Yes. It would be great, except I'm
allergic to puke.

Did Nell ever have any part -time work?

No. She sold one or two pictures when
the students had their exhibitions.

And she made jewellery. She made this.

It's a recycled pat, but it's for the
fun.

It's very cheap.

Yeah, well, I didn't pay for it. I did
her laundry.

But she took serious money from the
grown -ups who bought this stuff.

Like Professor Walters.

You've been talking to Professor
Walters?

She's his prof.

That's why he's gone pale.

Bollocks. Did Nell ever talk about
Shelley?

Shelley?

Yes.

She and Phil used to recite his poems to
us in the early hours of the morning,

and we were all seriously pissed.

And stories from Frankenstein, unless we
stopped them, which we usually did.

No, let myself out.

And there's something else I should say.
Say it.

We all adored Nell.

And if we were to find a guy who did
this, we'd happily tear him limb from

How's it going?

This is number 17 in a series of over
100 video installations on Nell's

computer. It's called paint drying.

I wonder if you can guess what it's
about.

Well, it might have dried by the time I
get back.

I've got a date.

What?

You don't have dates.

What's this about autism again?

No, not autism.

Gossip about your neighbours.

Any particular neighbour?

Dr. Stringer.

Ah, the one that shopped you for being
drunk and facetious.

The one and only.

Did you know he had a gambling problem?

I played bridge against him at the
University Bridge Club a couple of

They were all way too good for me, but I
didn't know he had a gambling problem,

no. He said it cost him his marriage.

That's not what I heard.

Did you hear?

According to Mr. Collinson, who does my
ironing, it was good old -fashioned

adultery with his bridge partner.

A must -

It doesn't make sense.

Do you remember how evasive Professor
Walters was about Stringer and Gambler's

Anonymous?

It's confidential, she says. I have to
ask his permission before I can share

that information with you.

But she's sleeping with a guy.

All it would have taken is one phone
call and she could have told us then.

Instead of which, it took 24 hours.

Plenty of time for them to cover their
tracks about something.

What's this?

Look, sketchbooks. Old -fashioned art.

The visitor's book.

I'm sure that the real information is
hidden away inside Nell's laptop.

I bet you she had some esoteric
password, like Tolkien's banjo.

So I'll try it. I have, and every
permutation of crocodile I can think of.

I know this face.

That's Regis Chapman's brother -in -law.

Why would he be in Nell's house?

Joining the dots is all well and good,
but suddenly there's far too many bloody

dots. Let me get some fresh air.

Can you spare me half an hour?

Have you got a date?

I don't have dates.

Does it put you off of my watch?

No.

I

went

round your house today.

I think it's a nice house.

Hmm, me too.

Your friends told me that you sometimes
recite poetry to them.

Yes. Do you know lots of poetry?

Lots.

You've always been good at learning
things.

One of the nurses in the foster home
taught me Wembley Cup winning teams from

1923 onwards.

When you were a kid?

Yes.

Bolton Wanderers, Newcastle United,
Sheffield United, Bolton Wanderers,

City, Blackburn Rovers, Bolton
Wanderers. I think I'd rather hear some

All right.

A dream that as I wandered by the way,
their winter suddenly was changed to

spring.

And gentle odours led my steps to the
dray, mixed with the sound of water's

murmuring.

That one's about a dream.

That's lovely, thank you.

I could never remember any poetry when I
was at school.

It's easy.

Did you just read it and know it? No.

I write it and I know it.

So you write it down by hand?

That's how I do writing.

We found a piece of paper in Nell's
pocket with poetry written on it.

And the moonbeams kiss the sea.

Yeah, that bit. Did you write it?

I said it one day and she said, that's
nice, will you write it down for me? And

I did.

Do you know what forgery is, Philip?

Yeah, it's a crime.

So you've never written a poem to make
it look like somebody else had written

it? Why?

Everyone would know I'd written it and
it would be a crime.

Yeah, it would.

No one would let me do a crime.

Thanks for talking to me.

It was nice.

Nell used to talk to me.

But she isn't here now.

Yeah,

certainly I visited the house. I don't
know, what, about months ago?

I haven't checked my job sheets for you.

I didn't know young Leonardo had done a
picture of me, though.

What was the job?

They'd had a break -in.

I fixed the front door, changed the
locks.

You can have a word with the landlord
for me. The bastard hasn't paid me yet.

Oh, and, uh, save your time.

Last week, I fixed a damp -proof course
in a convent. That doesn't mean I'm

planning to murder Mother Superior.

You'll realize I went on that girl's
little conducted tour, the Oxford Secret

Heritage Trail or whatever the hell she
called it.

Tolkien playing the banjo, Cambridge
spies, crocodiles in the river.

Was it rewarding?

Highly inventive. She's very smart.

It's a damn shame what happened to her.

We live in a vale of tears.

That's very poetic for a mathematician.

Deep level mathematical poetry.

You probably argue that at the deepest
level, everything's poetry, including

death.

Yes, I probably would.

Nell Buckley, conceptual artist, and
brilliant at having ideas. The girl who

fooled the bomb squad.

Philip Horton, who can draw and paint
anything that you set down before him.

Then over here, Reg Chapman, the
maintenance man at the Bodleian. Total

to all parts of the library.

He brings out the originals.

Philip makes the copies.

But the boy claims Nell Buckley wouldn't
have let him commit a crime.

Well, she could have lied. He'd have
believed her. And forensics found gum

arabic and iron sulfate in a cupboard at
the house. And a mortar and pestle.

Everything you need to make authentic
19th century ink.

And Nell was apparently working on some
top secret project.

How did the original get to Horton?

Via Eric Jameson. He lived in the same
house as Philip and Nell, but also works

part -time in Reg Chapman's favourite
betting shop.

Having made these forgeries, what
happens next in this dream scenario?

Well, the originals are sold on the open
market and the forgeries we place in

the body. A little bit more complicated
than that.

These were found in Nell's locker at the
article. They're forged letters from

Shelley to his wife, Mary.

These letters, if they were genuine,
would be the holy grail to Shelley

all over the world and worth an absolute
fortune.

Why is that?

You know that Mary Shelley wrote
Frankenstein?

I've even read it.

There have been mischievous suggestions
down the years that it was all his idea.

A mere man. And these letters apparently
support that theory.

I have to say, speaking of their woman,
I'm delighted with their forgeries.

You all right?

Eric Jameson not here today?

No, I called in sick.

Is he all right?

Yeah, no, he's fine.

He's a good lad.

Right at the button.

Hasn't been up to anything, has he?

Not that we're aware of.

Well, it's really more about Reg
Chapman.

Did you ever see him give anything to
Eric?

Maybe in a large envelope?

Can't say that I did.

But if he did, it would be on video.

That's what we hope you'd say.

Did you find anything on the tapes?

Sad people posting bets, most of them
losing.

Reg Chapman delivering mysterious
packages?

Not yet.

What we really need is a full confession
from Eric Jameson.

Well, ask him, nicely.

While you're in here, see if you can
find any goose feathers.

Thought that was a Marx Brothers film.

You sharpen them to make authentic quill
pens.

Right.

Sorry to interrupt, would you like a
word with Eric Jameson?

We all would.

We went out about two hours ago to get
some pizzas, and we haven't seen him

since.

Do you mind if we come in and wait?

Not at all.

And then there were two.

Where's everybody else?

Philip's in his room painting another
picture, and Charles is at college.

And Eric?

Has disappeared without a trace.

Oh, God, nothing's happened to him, has
it?

There's no reason to think so.

We would like to have a look around the
house. Help yourself.

You had a break -in last month.

How come nobody reported it? Well, they
didn't take anything, so we didn't

bother. Happens all the time to student
houses.

It's usually druggies, and the only
reason you report it is for the

claim. Nobody ever gets caught.

We'll try and do better in the future.

It's open.

Philip, is it all right if I come in and
take a look around?

Yes, it's all right.

Looking for goose feathers.

This draw.

This top one?

Philip? Yes?

Do you know what this is?

Easy, it's a gun.

Anything? Yes.

Sergeant found a gun.

You've never seen this before?

No.

Positive.

How did it find its way into your room?

I don't know.

Give in. Do you keep your room locked?

I can't.

Why not?

There's no key.

We'd like you to stay here for a while.

That's okay. There's lots of paper.

Can I use it?

I was hoping you might.

Try to think where Eric Jameson might
have gone.

We really need to talk to him about
Nell.

Do you understand what I mean?

Is it to do with Nell dying?

Yeah.

All right. I'll try to think about Eric.

Talked to him all day, but he wouldn't
get anywhere.

He only comes to life when he's drawing
pictures.

The rest of the time he's locked away in
his own little world.

Well, does he ever pop out of his little
world to kill people?

Supposing the girl asked him to. Here's
a gun, go shoot that man. Just to please

me, it's an artistic concept.

Why would he then kill her?

Because even he can realise he's ruined
his life.

Did you see that boy surviving five
minutes in prison?

And find Jameson, whichever way you
stack it, he's part of the conspiracy.

Look, I don't know who you are and how
you got my number, and I don't know

he is, and will you please leave me
alone?

Hi, it's me.

I'm getting funny phone calls.

Are you two?

No, it's just a casual inquiry.

It's our problem. Thanks for your help.

What's our problem?

Finding Eric James.

Hasn't been to college, hasn't been back
in touch with the betting shop.

His parents are in Verona listening to
operas.

I've been watching the highlights of
Nell's magical mystery tour.

And what better way to cover their
tracks than to hold their clandestine

meetings here in Oxford.

Now we shall go down to the crocodile
-infested river. Come on. Let's

concentrate on finding Jameson.

Over here.

Are you all right? No, I'm bloody
terrified.

You're all right here and public.

Terrified for Eric?

Guess where he is. Yes, me too. That's
why I'm terrified.

Well, that's very good. Yeah.

Where is it?

Can you ask me a thing about Eric?

I did this for Eric last year.

Do you know where the father's in the
church?

Do you know where they've been, huh? No.

Eric gave me a photograph to copy, but I
remember it. It looks like this.

Where?

I know who that is.

Oh, from your spiritual background?

No, I played there last year with a
band.

Oh.

Look, all ready for a quick getaway?

Mr. Jackson?

I'm Inspector Lewis.

I have Sergeant Hathaway with me.

No need to be running away.

Two people have died.

The safest place you can be at the
moment really is with us.

Good decision.

Why don't we take a pew?

You can tell us what's been going on.

Is this good cop, bad cop?

No. You're a very lucky lad. This is two
good cops. Start with the gun. The one

you planted in Philip's room.

Honestly, I don't know anything about
that.

So why did you run away?

Because I'm scared.

I forgot my folks were away.

All right, let's do the easy bit. The
forgeries.

Reg Chapman delivered some packages to
the betting shop. He gave them to you.

What happened to them after that?

I gave them to Nell, and when she
finished with them, she'd give them back

me, and I would turn them to Reg.

You really no idea what it was all
about?

No.

I assumed it was one of her wacky
projects.

You know, art.

With Nell, everything was art.

Mr. Jameson.

It is?

You are right.

Mr. Jameson is with a couple of honest
English cops.

Quentin Jackson.

My father adored Duke Ellington.

Quentin Jackson was the trombone player
in the Duke's band.

In my universe, Quentin Jackson's better
than Michael Jackson.

Antiques, first edition.

Original manuscripts.

That's correct.

And you were on Neil Buckley's heritage
tour.

I saw the video.

Mr. Jackson, this could be the start of
a very special relationship.

Do you want to tell us what you're doing
here?

Well, a client of mine in the States
bought two Shelley manuscripts, and he

offered the chance to buy the
Frankenstein letters.

The Holy Grail.

Precisely. But he was a little concerned
about their provenance, so he

commissioned me to come to Oxford and...
Check out the small print. Correct.

Well, when I arrived, I felt like I was
surrounded by murder and mayhem.

And I became genuinely concerned over
the safety of the boy after what had

happened to the girl.

You know he'd be at this church. I told
Professor Walters in my best Bronx

accent I wanted to make an offer he
couldn't refuse.

So she gave me his home address.

And when I discovered it was the
vicarage and there was nobody there,

Yeah, I took her on an educated guess.
Professor Walter?

Yes, she's a mathematician.

How does she fit into your equation?

Oh, she sold my client the manuscripts
of the poems and offered to supply the

letters.

You carry a gun, Mr. Jackson.

In my country, I have a constitutional
right to bear arms, but I've always

chosen to ignore it.

Like my father, I have an enduring love.

of the music of Duke Ellington.

Nobody can love that music and be a
party to the taking of human life.

I'd like a written statement of all your
dailies with Professor Walden.

I am at your disposal, Inspector.

Quite well.

Thank you.

Did you write these?

With that?

Yes.

They're lovely to write with. You can do
thin lines or thick.

But Nell told you what to put.

I'm no good at making things up.

You know forgery's a crime.

She said it would only be a crime if she
told them.

She wasn't going to tell them.

It was her project. It couldn't be a
crime if it was a project.

She taught me how to spell Frankenstein.
Oh, very good.

Not sure I could spell Frankenstein. I
can spell Prometheus as well.

Come with me, Phil?

All right.

Philip, have your desk.

Am I going to play at being a policeman?

Why not? We do it all day.

Pretend you're a policeman. Try and find
out what's happening now on the day she

died.

That's the sad thing to do.

Yeah, sometimes the least I have to do
is laugh then.

Hello.

Would you spell Prometheus for me?

P -R -O -M -E -T -H -E -U -S.

Gone.

Whatever was there has been wiped.

Leave it.

Now we're going to do some applied
mathematics.

Come in, darling. I'm deepened.

It doesn't have to be permanent.

Take an identity.

Seemingly. You can probably guess why
we're here.

Well, as you know, my area of expertise
is probability.

Seems to me the probability is you're
going to accuse me of marginal

in some kind of criminal activity.

Aiding and abetting the distribution of
forged and stolen manuscripts via the

good offices of a gentleman called
Quentin Jackson.

With the further probability that you'll
obtain a search warrant so you can

delve around in all my correspondent's
computer files.

Well, as a matter of simple fact, you'll
find no mention of anybody called Jack.

That's not a probability.

That's a certainty.

Well, let me save you the trouble.

Up, sir.

Right now.

This sounds like darling.

What's happening?

I've just invited the forces of law and
order to make a thorough search of all

my records.

I'll set off for the necklace.

What's that?

USB stick.

All the files on her computer are the
ones she didn't want anyone to see.

What, hanging around her neck?

Once a gambler.

Permissive?

What?

Oh, that's very good.

Tell us about it.

It's the man by the riverbank that they
know wasn't there.

Do you know the man's name?

No.

Could you draw him?

The man was too far away to see, but he
got into this car with that woman and

then... They drove away. You've written
the number plate down.

Yes.

I remember numbers.

You think the probability is these
people are planning to run away?

Going to a bridge tournament in Taylor
Street.

We had thought we might make a push on
the Mexican border before nightfall. Why

should we be running away?

We have a witness who was by the river
on the day you killed Nell Buckley and

who saw you get into a car, this car to
be precise, driven by your good friend

and bridge partner, your very good
friend, Professor Walters.

A reliable witness or that idiot boy
from the art school?

That idiot boy's the best witness I've
ever met. Who will be torn to shreds by

any self -respecting defense lawyer.
Yeah, unlike Quentin Jackson.

Never heard of him. According to the
information that we found hanging around

your neck and supported by a statement
from Mr. Jackson, you two received $50

,000 from an American horror movie buff
for the first in a series of letters

from Shelley to his wife, Mary.

Detailing the plot of Frankenstein. Why
would we jeopardise good academic

careers for such a bizarre enterprise?
Over the last year, you've played in

bridge tournaments in Paris, in Geneva,
Rome, New York.

You've stayed in five -star hotels.
You've flown first class.

All on university salaries.

But it isn't that, is it?

You did it to see whether you could.

The ultimate gamble.

Beating the bank.

What about beating the bank?

That beating fate.

We very nearly did.

Not only that, you almost got away with
murder.

It's nothing to do with me. And the cock
crowed a third time.

You were also at the Bodleian the day
Reg Chapman was murdered.

I don't deny it.

It's an old -fashioned library, and the
old -fashioned librarians will confirm

that I was at the main entrance at ten o
'clock and left a couple of hours

later. Yeah, but the new -fangled
security cameras at the rear of the

will confirm that you did meet Chapman a
little later.

When he came outside for a cigarette,
and you both went back inside.

I assume Chapman wanted more money.

And if you didn't pay up, he was going
to blow the whistle on the theft of the

manuscript. Chapman was a gambler.

And pathetic into the bargain.

Nell Buckley was a little bit more
complicated.

You recruited Hare and Philip Horton to
forge the Shelley poems.

Then she came to you with an even more
exciting idea.

The Frankenstein letters.

All you had to do was authenticate them.
And wait for the money to start rolling

in.

You assumed that like any decent 21st
century citizen, she was only in it for

the money.

But she wasn't.

She was only interested in art.

She kept a record of the whole story.

You found out she was going to submit it
as part of her academic portfolio.

Wouldn't have done your reputation much
good, would it?

A leading authority on the romantic
poet, suckered by a second -year art

student.

I hate students.

And I hate artists.

All of them.

The writers, the painters, the poets,
the guys in the band.

Even Shelley.

Especially bloody Shani.

How are you, Philip?

Okay.

We've charged the man who murdered Nell.

We need not kill any more people now.

Won't kill any more people.

Good.

And this is Shelley.

Yes.

His name's written there.

Of course.

And the sunlight clasps the earth.

And the moonbeams kiss the sea.

What were all these good things worth if
they were kids, not me?

He wrote that.

It was Nell's favorite.

Yes.

He made it up.

I wish I could make things up.

Lots about the new series and interviews
with the cast as well at itv .com

forward slash Lewis.

Well, the news is next this evening.
Then catch all the highlights from

Carling Cup final. Matt Smith at Wembley
in 15 minutes.