Original subtitles

Pride, the chapter on Peacock and the Romantics.

Sure.

Good luck tonight.

I'll be late for your lecture, Miss Harding.

Happy. Coming to hear the honeyed words of our glorious golden boy?

Yes, I am, Norman. Walking?

You and your carbon footprint.

Beautiful. Which?

Both. They're children.

This is Robert.

Ginny. I've heard a lot about you.

All good, I hope?

Glowing.

Are you a Dorian Crane fan?

My daughter writes it.

It's not my cup of tea, all this historical fantasy stuff.

Not a patch on Dan Dare.

Where do you fit in?

Ginny's Dorian's mother.

Oh, I'm sorry.

She got us in. We were students together.

It wasn't that. I'm not there. It's fine.

The historian dedicated his first book to Ginny.

I'm very lucky.

You said you weren't coming.

I'm not. I'm going. I just brought Jean and Robert along.

I've got a parent meeting. Oh, I see.

Where's your muse?

She should be here by now.

Oxford University has long enjoyed tellers of fantastic tales.

Charles Williams with his ghosts and doppelgangers for witches and wardrobes

C .S. Lewis.

Tolkien and his elvish...

Quite how this talented and disgustingly modest young tale -teller juggles

junior search fellow with best -selling author I wish I knew his secret to read

from his new novel, Boxlands, Dorian Crane.

Thank you, Professor Fearing.

The heart pangs of the princess were as nothing.

against the cry from her beloved prince, echoing from the stone halls into the

night and out into the half woods, where time disappears

and the known world stops.

Alice.

Bloody train, and I left my phone on the bus.

Every vasty field in Daisy Meadow endured a scouring to the inchworth.

moon -silver blades sliced through many a neck in the creaking crick pine

forest.

But still, their quest was countless country miles from done, and all they

were the talking horses and thirteen days.

Thanks very much.

Hello.

Thanks

very

much. Easy, Hayden.

I'll have to call her Calliope now, Jack.

Who?

Calliope is chief of the ancient muses.

If it wasn't for my fiancé and our intimate make -believe world, confetti

Dorian, Oxlands would never have been born.

Publicity, it's not true.

Just make sure he cuts you in on the royalties when you're married.

I handed him my notice today.

Harvard, here we come.

And what will you do while Dorian's inculcating the mysteries of creative

writing into those eager little American minds?

I don't know yet.

Stay in Oxford. Come back to college. Do your doctorate. It's much more fun. I

can have you all to myself.

Oh, I'm a deputising service patient.

Second fall this week. I'm afraid I'll have to call it a night. Oh, no.

Bye, darling.

Cheers, love.

Cheers.

Lynn. Oh, it's her birthday. Pretty name.

Pretty daughter.

Birthday kiss.

I'll come on.

I will.

I should be dead, please.

I'm more of a swallow than Amazon's girl myself.

Sorry.

Why

don't

I come back to your room?

Breathing aloud.

Oh.

Sorry, darling.

It'll be too late by the time I've schmoozed my agent and I've got a

This way, darling.

Here we go.

Fountain of blood.

Fountain. It's Bert.

She would have been dead within three minutes. The jugular vein and carotid

arteries were sliced right through.

By a piece of the mirror?

On reflection, yes.

Too early for judges.

And too early for Inspector Lewis, it would appear.

He's on his way.

Yes, sir.

I do bodies, Sergeant, but I am assuming it's her blood.

Okay.

Is that her name on the end?

Brooke Barra.

Hmm.

I heard that word somewhere.

The lacerations either side of her neck were more or less symmetrical.

And simultaneous?

Possibly. There were deep incisions in her palms too, a defence wound.

The attacker could have had a piece of glass in each hand.

Or the attack itself shattered the mirror.

Absolutely. In which case, there should be a frame around here somewhere.

Loitering with intent.

Where did she get them?

You know, Dandy.

You don't read comics.

Needs to look over the rough boy's shoulders, sir.

Marina Hartner.

Born 1985.

Her medical card, 5 Felton Road.

Cowley.

For me, she could have been on her way into town or back home.

Oh, probably home.

She was found by a rider around dawn. He said she saw her yesterday afternoon.

Probably going to town.

Same clothes.

All alone?

No phone.

Do you know how to phone?

We're doing a fingertip search of the room a bit.

Mystique Noir.

Oh, my leg, that's tough.

Been bought some Vivaldi Christmas before we lost.

Smash it down over her head and pull back unrelenting and side to side so the

jagged glass soars through her neck.

She resists and cuts her hands, trying to save herself.

Thank you.

Let's watch the results again.

The display for your Lewis Carroll book was much more

tasteful. And much less prominent.

Then I'm not 26 with gorgeous hair and snake hips.

Can I tempt you to breakfast at high table?

My wife always sends me off with a full belly. Of course.

She never considered the various benefits of a wife or a child.

Domesticity, be it with man or woman, has its attractions.

But Colonel Desire gaps the energy.

So why bother?

Hold back on the detail of how she died for the time being.

And that Okbara word or whatever it is. Oh, I've remembered.

What? Okbara.

Go on.

Actually, it's usually transliterated with a K, not a Q.

Talk the head off a penny, you, eh?

Okbara is a place in Iraq.

They solved that. Thanks very much.

Iraq.

There's no phone on the riverbed, so they're searching the bank beyond.

A mirror is a murder weapon. What's that all about?

Complete waste of time.

The neighbour reckons Maureen is either Polish or Venezuelan. Can we have a word

with the council about her recycling bin?

Czech Republic.

You might have given me a shout.

Sorry, what seems to be the problem with the recycling bins?

Seems that she moved to England two years ago and there's pay clips in her

from somewhere called the Grapevine.

Well, that's that pub over by the Sheldonian.

Anything else? Letters? A diary?

No, not yet, but there might be something in the laptop.

It's Dorian Crane's first book, Halfwood. Did you meet him last night?

Yeah, he signed it near one for our linen, if it happened.

Might be worth something one day.

More like perfume.

Darling Marina, happy Christmas, all love, Ned.

Ned.

Short for Edward.

Do you want anything?

Like a light?

Screw you.

Are you hungover?

No. I heard you crashing in last night.

You woke me up.

Dreaming of America.

Hold in.

Why do you have to go with Dorian?

Because we'll be married.

So what?

Leave me alone.

I just don't want to be stuck here with Dad.

That's all.

You're not immigration?

Certainly not, Kelly. Better suits.

Yours, maybe.

Is there a problem with Marina's work today, Defendant? She gets edgy if it

comes up.

Is she in trouble?

What time did she leave last night?

Early, uh, nine.

Did she say where she was going?

She never does, really.

Does she have a boyfriend?

Not that you've told me, but I'd be surprised if there wasn't someone.

She gets a lot of attention.

From the customers?

All the time.

Anyone in particular?

Just general.

Do you know any of them by name, and Edward or Ned?

Right. Did she ever mention those names? Which college? No.

You've got her mobile number, Kelly. You sure?

I've only got the payphone at her place.

Okay, and it's Professor Hathim, yeah?

All right, tell him we'll be right along.

Now, your suit's perfectly serviced or so, I'd say.

Oh, thanks.

New tie, maybe.

I'll put it on me Christmas list.

Start saving.

Thanks.

So, Tommy, do you see him?

No. Sergeant Hathaway.

I know you from somewhere.

Randolph, last night.

You apologised to me when I bumped into you. A very English courtesy.

Ah, I see.

You reported the theft of a mirror, sir.

Yes, when I arrived this morning.

It was gone.

Is that it?

16th century Persian, that is. Is that blood?

Yes. Your door doesn't seem to have been forced.

I never lock it.

It's not fitting. Also, I believe to the ethos of this college.

Who would have known it was here?

Anyone. Everyone.

I have a lot of visitors.

Student, staff.

Titus Burkhardt.

What field are you in, sir?

Comparative religion.

You've heard of Burkhardt? I study theology.

Where? Cambridge.

Thank God. How dear old Lizzie Trunswick.

I'm still beavering away at Zoroastrians.

When do you reckon it was taken, Professor?

Yesterday evening, after I left for Dorian's occasion.

Say, seven?

You didn't come back here last night? No, I drove straight home after the

-off to my always patient wife.

May I ask where you're from, sir?

Iraq.

Have you ever heard of Ukbara?

Ukbara was a very important medieval city just outside Baghdad.

Why? Oh, crossword clue.

You know these clever clocks, Todd.

Do you ever drink at a place called the Grapevine by any chance? I don't drink.

Do you know a Marina Hartner?

Marina Hartner?

No.

Well, thanks for your time, Professor.

We'll be in touch about your property.

What a coincidence, that. His mirror and an Iraqi play phone at the murder

scene. Someone tried to incriminate him. Well, that's what he wanted, I think.

Titus Burkhardt? What's a name for that? He's a perennialist.

What do they believe in? Low -maintenance gardening?

Perennialist. Proposed that everlasting divine wisdom goes back to man's

beginnings before religion.

Burkhardt was especially interested in its relationship to Islam. I've got a

book I'd like to show you.

Oh, thanks.

Hello again.

Ginny.

This is my colleague, Jane Catherly. Oh, hi.

Hello. So, how would your parents mean?

Must do better.

Them, not me.

What age do you teach? Little ones.

They're not so much trouble, in theory.

Tell me about it. And I only had two of them.

Have you been to see Dorian?

No, why?

Oh, I just assumed he'd run... Yeah, I noticed his head.

Well... Nice to see you.

You too. Bye. Bye.

No joy in an extra kimp for Marina.

Well, I want it positively identified before we release her name.

What about Kelly from the grapevine?

No, give her a break. What was Marina's doctor's name when I met her before?

Dr. Jem Wishart.

Who's that?

This is the man I met.

Dorian?

Hi.

Looking for Dorian?

I take it he's not here. I was looking for myself. I wanted to borrow a book.

I like them.

You all right, Doctor?

Can't be the first time you've seen a dead body.

It is in that state.

But you can confirm she was your patient, Marina Hartner?

Just.

She registered with the surgery the year before last.

I think she works in a bar.

Is that why she came to Oxford, to work?

As far as I know.

I only saw her a few times.

Do you ever mention a relationship, a boyfriend, or...? No.

When did this happen?

Last night.

On her way home?

From where?

Work? I don't know.

No, nor do we.

Well... Thank you, sir.

We'll talk at the airport.

Post -mortem interval of two to six hours -ish. What time did they find her?

Dawn -ish.

Say 4 .45 gives us a death between 10 .45 and 2 .45 this morning.

There were small areas of hyperpigmentation, one on her neck and

shoulder. Love bite.

Affectionate nibbles.

Consistent with normal intercourse and shortly before death. And the condom.

Her jewellery. A couple of rings and a locket.

You can place her at the grapevine at nine when her colleague Kelly Belford

she left, but no sightings till her body was discovered.

Not yet, ma 'am, but I'll only just put out the appeal.

I need to know where she was and what she was doing.

And who she was doing it with, if Dr. Hobson's right.

You're assuming this wasn't a random attack?

Yeah. I can't see the killer wandering around with that mirror on the off

that he might bump into a suitable victim.

No, they'd have been waiting for Marina, which means they knew the route she was

going to take.

What do you make of Professor Hassim?

Well, the only thing that links him to the crime is that stolen mirror of his,

which he himself alerted us to.

And anyone could have taken it, anyone who knew it was there.

Why a mirror?

And what about this Uqbara word written in blood? That's a pretty flamboyant

gesture. It must mean something.

An ancient Iraqi town.

Maybe there's a political dimension.

There's nothing to suggest it.

I hope not. That's the last thing we need.

Did the search turn up Marina's phone?

No, and this was a premeditated killing. It wasn't a mugging gone wrong.

She wasn't murdered for her phone, so why did they take it?

Excuse me, Mum. Sir, I've found Ned.

Where is he?

On her laptop.

If you can't travel to Prague to meet the lady of your dreams, then she can

to you.

This is it.

Testimonials.

Marina is the most beautiful woman I've ever had the fortune to meet. Ned from

Oxford, England.

Excuse me.

Please, what were you doing in Marina Hartner's room?

I'm her friend. I came to get my key from her.

Where is she?

I'm afraid she's dead.

My name is Leila Adam.

I'm a chambermaid at the Randolph Hotel.

I have a room there to live with my job.

Come on.

Marina asked to use my room for one night.

I was visiting cousins in Birmingham, so I left the key for her over the door.

Why did Marina want your room?

To be with a man.

It's not proper, but she was my friend.

Who was he?

I don't know.

Do you know anything about him, his name? No.

Why the hotel?

Why not entertain him at her place?

She said he would like a game.

A surprise for him.

A big surprise.

When did you last speak to her?

I called her from Birmingham when she was arriving in the room.

On her own phone? Her mobile?

Yes.

We need that number, please, Lella.

We need CCTV from the hotel staff entrance.

Wherever her phone is, it's switched off.

Get on to her service provider. Let's see the records.

Why they all need a profusion of initials. J .R .R. Tolkien.

P .S. Lewis. J .K. Rowling.

Carol was Lewis.

Carol. Plain and simple. Hardly simple.

Obsessively taking photographs of little girls.

Complex, I'd say.

Don't judge Carol by today's tawdry standards.

He admired the beauty of children.

If he did have impure thoughts, then he didn't act on them.

That's the difference.

This young woman who has been murdered with your

mirror. Did I see her with you last month crossing the quad from your

Me? No.

It was dark.

So I could have been mistaken.

You must have been.

Check next time. See if I can get my own back.

to find the person responsible.

I'm especially interested in hearing from anyone who saw Marina after nine o

'clock yesterday evening when she left her work at the Grapevine Bar in Oxford.

We know that this young woman lived in the Cowley area and we're working on the

assumption that she was either on her way home...

Ned.

I need a favour, Joan.

Desperately.

Great picture of you two at the launch.

The Oxford male.

I thought I looked a bit cheesy, grinning like a Cheshire girl.

Here, help yourself.

I was very touched by the dedication of Boxlands.

But Alice, muse and bride.

I meant it.

Oh, congratulations on Harvard, darling.

You certainly kept that quiet, I must say.

Well, it's only just been confirmed.

We'll have to bring the wedding forward.

Oh, it's all in hand.

First Saturday after town ends.

Good.

What happened to the garden?

Um, that path and level four target.

That's what.

Why, are you volunteering?

You asked for that.

We could come up one Sunday.

Oh, why not?

Well, once I've sorted out my schedule.

We will, I promise.

Oh, I dropped in to see you yesterday.

Did that girl tell you? Um, Australian?

Pretty.

Melanie.

She's one of my students.

What are you doing in my room?

Looking for a book.

A girl in your room, oh yeah.

My secret lover.

Now he tells you.

You'd have me too old to do.

Alice and I are going to be so happy.

It'll be perfect.

Alice. News and bride.

Alice.

Alice. Hello.

Any joy?

Ten months to April last year, Marina called the same Oxford number nearly

day. Received call from that number.

Subscriber, Professor Norman Dearing.

Dearing? He was at the hotel at that book launch.

Norman, though, not Edward.

Middle initial E.

Norman E. Dearing. N -E -D equals Ned. We got him.

Perhaps Deering gave Marina that copy of Crane's first book that we found in her

house.

There he is. That's him.

Try this the fun way.

Eh? Ned!

Only to my friend.

Marina Hartner.

Is that the girl who was murdered?

Yes, Professor.

Did you give her a present of perfume?

Have you ever visited this website, sir?

I paid her fare from Prague.

Helped her find accommodation.

Paid her rent for a couple of months.

Until she was able to stand on her own feet. You brought her to England for the

purposes of having a sexual relationship.

Yes.

But don't tell anyone I have a reputation to maintain.

Maintain what, sir?

Ned Dearing doesn't do sex.

Though recently such desires have crept up on me again, much to my surprise.

When did you last see Marina?

April Fool's Day last year.

She dismissed me.

Were you angry with her?

Of course.

Where were you on Tuesday night?

After the book launch?

I came back here, and my brother -in -law phoned me. Jim Wishart.

His daughter's marrying Dorian Crane.

Dr. Wishart's your brother -in -law?

Is that why Marina registered with him as her GP?

I'd recommended him.

She needed a doctor. He's a very good one.

Is Dr. Wishart aware of your connection with her?

Oh, God, no.

She's just another patient, as far as he's concerned. And I'd like to keep it

that way, please.

Tuesday night.

Jim had been called away from the Randolph to a patient, but it was a

alarm, so he dropped in here for a brandy or three.

What time was that?

About 11.

He stayed for a couple of hours.

Could you be a little more precise?

Rarely. After brandy.

Have you ever heard of a place called Iqbara, sir?

What? In Iraq.

No, I haven't.

Come!

I thought that glass

is, uh, for clothes work.

Sorry, can't hear you. Haven't got my hearing aid in. Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.

There she is.

Going in the staff entrance.

9 .13.

Must have come straight from the grapevine.

Shall we just let it run on?

Skip to 10 .45 and on from there.

This will be safe.

That's Dr. Hobson's earliest time of death.

Professor Deering's not concerned about keeping his reputation as a... What's

the word?

Up your street?

Fellow but.

Up for what?

Maybe. Maybe she's trying to blackmail him.

Gives a motive, at least. Something to get a handle on. Sort of antique mirrors

in ancient Iraqi towns.

Progress?

Getting there.

Girls' night out.

With Ginny and a couple of others from university days.

Very nice, ma.

Thank you.

She's lovely, Ginny, don't you think?

Seems very pleasant.

Separated.

Oh, um, 10 .50.

She's leaving her hotel at 10 to 11.

She told my dad.

There's another possible witness there.

I saw him at the launch with Alice.

Must be the Wishart boy.

How can I help?

We're trying to trace the movements of Marina Hartner on Tuesday night before

she was murdered.

We've established that she was at the Randolph Hotel.

Oh, so was I.

I was at the Dorian Crane book launch.

Oh, me too.

Oh, this is my daughter.

She's engaged to Dorian.

These are police officers. They hear about that murder by the river.

She was a patient of mine. I had to identify her.

How ghastly.

We think that your son, Hayden, is it? Might have seen her as she left. Hayden?

Is he home?

Well, in a manner of speaking, he inhabits his own little universe.

I'll take them across, Dad. Thanks.

You didn't happen to notice Marina at the hotel?

No, no, I just said.

Anyway, I left early. I was called away to a patient.

An emergency?

As it turned out, no.

I'm afraid I ended up in the early hours putting the world to rights with my

brother -in -law, which is college.

Do you remember what time you left?

Well, at least one o 'clock.

Why? What about you, Miss Fishart? Did you see Marina?

Not that I know of.

It might be worth asking Dorian.

He recognised her photo in the paper.

He sometimes drank at that bar that she worked at.

Hayden's totally gone into himself since Mum died.

When was that? A year ago.

A car accident.

Oh, I see. I'm sorry.

Um... That perfume you've got on, is that Miss Dietmar?

Yes. I always wear it.

Uncle Norman's boiling me again.

A present from Professor Dearing. He's very generous.

You're good on perfume for a man.

It reminds me of someone.

Shall we take it from here?

Cheers.

We need your help, Hayden.

Yeah?

You know there was a murder the night of Dorian Crane's book launch?

A broken mirror slicing into her neck.

Weird.

Must have given mega blood spread.

This isn't a horror film.

No.

All right.

You saw the victim outside the hotel.

Did I?

It was on CCTV.

She came out of the staff entrance and spoke to somebody in a car.

Oh, yeah.

Was that her?

Yes.

Did you see who was in the car?

Sorry.

Did you hear any of the conversation?

Thanks, anyway.

Try balancing the gadrillions on your left flank.

What he needs is some fresh air.

cooped up with his toy soldiers.

Wargaming figures.

Same difference.

He's had a hard time. He's lost his mum.

Don't make excuses for him. He's not doing himself any favours, is he?

Backing off into some fantasy world because life's given him a kick in the

Ukraine.

About to come in with Professor Hazim?

Chess.

That's your rule.

Oh,

there was a young girl from Australia who painted her ass like a dame. Good

night.

You know what you are, Dorian?

A gold -plated tart.

I can't drink this.

You've had a good try.

The best, please.

Wouldn't risk the best if you value your taste buds. It's off.

It is not off, sir. It is not off. It is cloudier than a sad Sunday in

Birmingham. And it tastes like a camel's armpit. Better, please.

I wouldn't know. You've obviously had a more exciting life than me.

Not very difficult, I imagine.

You've managed to drink half of it.

Barely a quarter.

If your beer keeping is anything like your fractions, no wonder it's off.

Look, if a beer's off, you can tell from the first sip.

It was my first sip. I had a raging thirst.

I'll bar you one of these days.

Give madam another half. Half?

I paid for a pint.

Allow me.

Thank you. How charming.

Thank you very much. My host will see you right.

They said I'd get a better class of customer in Oxford.

Where's the Rutherford?

A regular nuisance.

Professor Rutherford.

Same again.

Please, yeah.

On the house.

I've got a great birthday present for you.

Wait and see.

No, not much. Just catching up on work, you know.

Yeah, of course I do, love.

I think of her all the time.

Out of the blue, you know?

I don't have to try.

Anyway... Yeah, you too, love.

Sleep tight, then.

square mirror from an eastern cline adorned the royal bedchamber.

Its darkly gnarled frame lusted with mother -of -pearl in perfect symmetry.

Since he was a child, young Aldred had marveled at tales in the magic mirror.

And how, to those who dared oppose the unrighteous evil, did earn the

wrath, it brought down a swift and ugly death.

Where's that?

At which point, according to the Hatter, the Queen of Hearts

bawled, off with his head!

Not mad, Hatter. By the way, Carol never called him that.

And if you pad out your efforts with such tedious irrelevance, I shall deduct

marks heavily.

This university has the tradition of literary whimsy from Alice in Wonderland

The Hobbit and the simply sickly Narnia Sargus.

But only Lewis Carroll, I suggest, can truly be judged a major literary talent

who will stand the test of time.

It won't be the original of Peter's sword from Lionbridge in the wardrobe.

I thought they were going to insure it.

What?

I found a copy of my book for you.

To, um, Lim.

I'll remember to. May we have a word?

You've reformed the Inklings.

Who are they? A rock band?

No.

They were a group of writers who met at the Eagle and Child to read their new

work to each other over a pint.

Tolkien was one, in C .S. Lewis.

Very cosy.

I'm doing my doctorate on C .S. Lewis.

Influence of Islam on his third Narnia book, The Horse and His Boy.

Have you heard of Akbara?

Not Akbara, no.

Why, what's this about?

The murder of Marina Hartner.

The girl who worked at the grapevine.

Yeah, I saw her picture in the paper.

What happened? I didn't have a chance to read the full story.

Did you know her?

Well, it's a girl who sold me a drink occasionally, yeah.

Her killer smashed a mirror over her head and cut her throat with it.

It's horrible.

A mirror?

One identically described by you in Chapter 5 of your new book.

That mirror belonged to Professor Hashim.

He's on this staircase, comparative religion.

Oh, we know.

The mirror was stolen from his room on Tuesday evening.

How do you come to describe it so well?

I borrowed it from him last year for inspiration when I was writing Boxlands.

sat on my desk.

I see.

What struck me was that this mirror is used in a brutal murder and that you

write about it bringing down a swift and ugly death.

Yeah, by magic.

It's not literal.

You obviously didn't read to the end of the chapter.

I'm a policeman, Mr. Cray. Not a fan.

You knew the victim.

You described the murder weapon.

Hardly knew her.

And I've explained about the mirror.

We found a copy of you for Novel Halfwoods in Marina's room.

What can I say? It sold very well.

Why shouldn't she have it?

She wasn't given it by you.

I told you I didn't know her.

Where did you go after the book launch?

Came back here, went to bed.

Can anyone vouch for you?

Miss Wishart, perhaps?

No, I put her in a taxi home.

I had to talk business with my agent and my publisher.

May I? My Armstrong Lang Award for Halfords.

Really impressive.

Thank you.

That bar won't mean something to him.

No alibi.

He's got in that box.

Pass away?

What about?

No, no, ask him to wait. I'll see him myself.

It, uh... It came this morning.

Did Anna ask you to report it?

No, she said to ignore it.

It's just some sad loner who's jealous of Dorian's success.

But if they're unbalanced, they could be dangerous.

Thank you, Doctor. We'll look into this.

Thank you.

Sir. We've been barking up the wrong tree.

Last night at Wishart's place, I caught sight of Alice in Silhouette in the

dark. Marina was the same age, the same build, the same hair.

And it was... Pitch black, down by the river.

Well, so you're saying the killer got the wrong woman, Marina, instead of

They even wore the same perfume, didn't they?

Come you in, come you in.

Thank you, Professor.

Oh, you can call me Bernie.

I would never have had you down as a detective, Mr Hathaway.

I would have never had you down as a Bernie, Bernie.

I do like you.

Actually, it's Bernice.

I appreciate you seeing me like this. Well, I'm intrigued.

You want some help with your bloody word?

Well, I thought in view of your expertise in deciphering... Yes, well,

have a look at it.

Big fan of your work on the Dead Sea Scrolls. Flattery will get you

Actually, I've been superseded by a brilliant newfangled X -ray machine in

case of the scrolls that are too delicate to unroll.

I'll cry from scrabbling around in the Judean desert with my glass.

Now, what do you think this word is?

Bara? Well, try.

Except, no, that isn't an A at the end. This is an A.

You can see how the horizontal stroke starts well to the left of the inclined

vertical.

Whereas here, nothing to the left of the inclined vertical.

I'd say there wasn't a horizontal stroke at all.

Well, it's not an A, then what is it?

Sanguineous merge, if it was me.

Certainly not a letter.

Is there a South American dimension to your case at all, Mr Hathaway?

No, not as far as I know, no.

Well, what about literature?

Fantasy literature?

You don't believe Marina Hartner was the intended victim?

No, Mum.

Alice Wishart was.

It's possible.

It's more than possible. I pure hate that.

But why Uckbara?

And what about the mirror?

Oh, I've got a couple of way ringing round his circle of wise men about

and I've got an idea about the mirror.

So, Mum, it could be that Uckbara's not the word after all. We weren't sure

about the final A, were we?

Was Uckbara without the A mean or anything?

According to my new source, Ubar is a fictional land created by the characters

in a story by J .L. Borges.

What does he want his home?

Argentinian writer.

Gauchos, tangos, and the nature of reality.

That takes me back. Does anyone still read Borges?

Well, Dorian Crane would, and he was hesitant when we mentioned Ubar.

That's right, up Hayden Wishart Street as well.

Listen, C .S. Lewis, Tolkien, J .K. Rowling, none created a fantasy world so

perfect as Borges with Ubar.

See? Fantasy world.

Well, that would explain the mirror.

Alice, Alice, through the looking glass.

You're right, it's thick.

It's Oxford.

Plus, we've got a Lewis Carroll connection slapped bang in the middle of

with Professor Dearing.

Her uncle?

Always looked at the family first.

It was him that gave Marina and Alice that perfume.

Yeah, but if he knew Alice was going to be at the book launch, why would he

think she'd be walking along the river?

Why would anyone think so, come to that?

We'll ask her.

You said I couldn't come back with you because you had to be with your agent.

It's true.

Are you sure you won't meet an Australian girl?

No.

You were with her last night, though, weren't you?

Look, she's just one of my students.

Trust me.

This is the real world.

Not Boxlands, where Prince Aldred kept him in a trowel for his one true maiden.

What's wrong with you?

I ought to be no other man than I am, Alice.

Grow up.

Alice.

Hayden?

Have you seen Alice?

No. You're a bad liar.

Leave me alone.

Get off me!

Tell me.

You stupid little boy.

Still haven't got a hold of Alice.

She's lost her phone, according to her dad.

But she's going to be at the Eagle and Child later for Dorian's appearance.

So Hathaway's waiting for her.

I'm supposed to meet him there.

Good.

Robert, why not come for dinner one night?

Why not, Mum?

Thank you.

I could ask Ginny.

I'll give you her number so you can liaise directly that available date.

I'll give her a ring.

Good.

Hello? Ginny?

Speaking. Hi, it's Robert Lewis.

Robbie? Oh, hello.

Hi, um, Superintendent Innocent gave me your number.

She wants to invite us for dinner.

Ah,

I thought she might.

Um, look, I don't mean to be rude.

Ginny, I think you're very nice, but I'm really not ready for it. I don't think

that we...

Although I can see why she thinks it might have been... A viable project.

Well, that's Jean. She's all head and no heart sometimes.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm going to have to go. There's someone at the door.

Bye.

Bye, then.

I don't know what to do.

You know Dorian better than anyone.

I should do.

I know how much he loves you.

He never talked about his real mother.

Sorry, his birth mother.

He's told me about you fostering him.

I see.

When he was 15 and we'd moved and he'd changed schools,

he made me promise that we would always be mother and son as far as the world

was concerned.

He was desperate for security.

Is his birth mother violent?

No, just inadequate.

Seriously inadequate.

I don't want there to be any secrets between Dorian and me.

I hate secrets.

Well, once you're away from Oxford and settled and married, anything that seems

a problem for him now, he'll clear the air.

I'll make things up with him tonight.

Oh, yes, it's the eagle and the child. He's giving that talk to the new

Inklings. Are you going?

I've got a pile of marking.

Oh, come on.

Moral support.

All right, why not?

Annie, are you coming to this Inklings thing later?

Dorian? I want to talk.

Come on.

Seth Ricksmile entered young Alge's chamber, all a -quiver in a crow

-black darkness, when suddenly...

And I don't go in there, whatever you do.

Why? Is the beer off?

No, it's far worse than that. The place is full of fools who think that Tolkien

and the rest of his infantile bunch are worthy of a celebration.

I only went in for a quiet pint.

So you consider Tolkien to be infantile? All fantasy is infantile until it turns

sinister, which it does if you don't grow out of it.

Arrested adolescence is a dangerous thing, Sir Hathaway.

Naughty and dangerous.

Sir, is this the inn where the hobbits quaff their ales? They still do when the

moon is full.

You both here, too, to see the new Inklings?

Dorian speaking.

Yeah, the theological implications of C .S. Lewis's unfinished work, Dark Tower.

I wonder why he didn't finish it.

Too busy polishing his sword.

Is Alice coming?

Yes, she said so when I saw her earlier.

Come here.

Good evening, Sergeant.

Evening. What's the sort of truth doing here?

It's Dorian's idea to link the new inklings with the originals. Is it true

C .S. Lewis used to wave this around in his tutorials?

Really? How disgustingly flamboyant.

Miss Richard?

Oh, is Dorian here yet? No, he isn't. Can I have a word with you about Tuesday

night? It's important.

Were you always intending on going to the boat launch?

Yes, of course.

Anything out of the ordinary happen that evening?

Um, I was a bit late getting there because of the train, but no.

And if you were going to go home instead of the hotel, which route would you

have taken?

I normally walk along the river. Why?

Yeah, sir.

No, she just arrived.

Well, shouldn't I wait with her?

Yeah, okay.

Will you wait with Ginny till I get back?

Yeah, fine, but why?

I'll explain later.

What was she doing in Dorian's room?

Two minutes?

One.

Did you get any idea at all of who did it?

Big, small, man, woman?

Just a bastard.

Why did you go to the room?

I went there to tell Dory that it was over.

You're having a relationship?

If only.

He came to my room the other night to tell me to back off in the sweetest

possible way.

Last night I just wanted to see him, to tell him, OK, I got the message.

You knew he was engaged.

Your point being?

Someone slashed a photo of Alice and sent it to her.

Not me.

What did Alice say?

That the river was her usual route home, so if Marina's killer did mistake her

for Alice, then they didn't know Alice was going to the launch.

Or they had reason to believe that she'd changed her plan.

Suppose you ever attack Melanie with waiting for Dorian. Doesn't look like

of a burglary, does it?

Could be, though.

Where's this box?

Leave it down, Hayden.

What happened?

You're not Mum.

And I said to you.

Oh, yeah?

I know what you did.

Is Mr. Crane still here?

He didn't turn up.

Some spotty youth substituted with a paper on the politics of Middle Earth.

people left.

No sign of Ginny or Alice.

Alice went before Professor Hattie.

Do you do theft or just murder?

Someone pinched the sword of truth.

There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that

repenteth. Luke, chapter 15, verse 10.

But is the joy of angels regarded as sufficient in the Talmud or

the Koran?

Is the act of repentance enough to assuage God's demand

for punishment?

I've been thinking.

That goes with the job.

I'm sure that was the murdered girl I saw you with, even though it was dark.

No.

I'm convinced of it.

Especially since I found her photo in your room.

I must start locking my door.

And I'm convinced, Norman, that Dorian Crane was telling me the truth about

About you trying it on with him last year.

Most reluctant to remove your rapacious paws, he said.

Why would he tell you about that? We were discussing loose morals.

He never made a formal complaint.

But if the incident were, somehow, to become widely known now,

under these sad circumstances... What circumstances?

You haven't heard.

Dorian Crane died within minutes of being stabbed through the heart.

I'd say the killer held the sword against him when Dorian was in a

position before pushing it home with a single thrust.

Alice was covered in blood.

Consistent with finding him and cradling him in her arms.

We still haven't managed to question how she had to be sedated.

Are you getting anywhere with this case?

Yeah, thanks, Doctor.

For a start, we think that Alice was meant to be the first victim, not

It has to do with the mirror. Her name's Alice, and Alice drew the looking

glass.

Now you've got the sword from the lion, the witch and the wardrobe.

What next? Noddy killing big ears?

Oh, incidentally, one of my students was looking at the post -mortem photograph.

That piece of jewellery she wore was a Tarweez locket, apparently.

It's an Islamic thing.

She was a Muslim?

Aren't there any Muslims in the Czech Republic?

Well, not as many, I imagine, as there are in other countries.

She was nervous of her immigration status.

So?

So we should keep our options open. We don't know for certain that Marina was

mistaken for Alice, however special the perfume was.

I want to have a word with Marina's friend. What's her name? Leila Adan?

Fair enough, if you want.

People compared Dorian to the influence.

But then Lewis was pushing 40 before he had success as a writer.

The allegory of love.

Do you know it?

Not offhand, no.

Well, very perceptive about the subject.

From a man who'd yet to know love.

Well, at least Dorian had known love, Jenny.

Have you contacted your husband?

What for?

To tell him.

Oh, Nick's not Dorian's father.

We fostered him.

Oh, I see.

We couldn't have kids.

We thought about adopting and then the fostering thing came up.

We took Dorian.

He was ten.

He stayed.

For the first month, he insisted he was an orphaned prince.

But then he grew up.

Where's Nick now?

Oh, Lord knows.

I walked out 11 years ago.

Dorian's 15th birthday.

That's rotten.

He's rotten.

Left me high and dry.

There was something taken from Dorian's room last night. A decorated box from

the shelf.

Oh, I gave that to him.

Found it in a junk shop the year he went up to Oxford.

Any idea what he kept in it?

Oh, it's an end, I suppose.

Personal bits and pieces.

Yeah, he had an extraordinary talent.

Have you, um, read Boxland?

Just a bit of a chapter about a magical mirror.

Well, I know it's not your sort of thing, Robbie, but try and get to the

I like to think you could understand.

I've got to keep myself busy.

The garden's in a hell of a state.

Take your time.

Dorian and I had a row about that Australian student, Melanie Harding.

I found out that he'd been in her room the night before last.

Late. How did you know?

Uncle Norman, Professor Dearing, told me.

But when I asked Dorian about it, he just said to trust him.

But I didn't believe him.

And I went to see Ginny.

I wanted to see Dorian in the pub to make up.

And when he didn't come, I went looking for him, and I found him.

His life bleeding away.

Why didn't you believe him?

I never told Dorian, but I got an anonymous letter, and I thought it was

her, Melanie.

When was this?

Last month, when all the book publicity started.

He had this box on a shelf.

Yeah, what was in that?

I don't know.

And the letter said, why hadn't he shown me? And maybe it was because of some

horrible secret.

I asked and he said it was just stuff.

But he made me promise not to look inside, so I never did.

Do you still have the letter?

I tore it up and flushed it away.

Dad.

I brought you some stuff from home.

Some make -up and a hairbrush. Oh, my phone.

Someone handed it in, amazingly.

Alice, when exactly did you lose your phone?

On the day of the launch.

Could I borrow that, please?

That's why we couldn't find Marina's phone.

Because the killer took it, thinking it was Alice's.

Why did the killer believe that Alex would be walking by the river rather

being in the Randolph?

They sent her a message to change her plans.

Yeah, but she never got it because she'd lost the phone.

The last text she got was the day before.

Oh, damn.

It could be an email if she saved her password on automatic.

Yeah, don't come to Randolph, go home. Top secret surprise, Dorian.

Dorian? Well, it's webmail. Anyone who knew his password could have sent that.

So who else would have known the password?

Give Alice a call.

Boxlands? Yeah, there's a chapter that I need to finish.

Did you get any more CCTV footage from the car that stopped for Marina Hartner?

Traffic cameras?

No, Mum.

Drew a blank. This whole thing's about Dorian Crane and his fantasy world.

Special boxes, magic mirrors, God knows what else.

Marina was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Alistair, she was always telling Dorian to change his password. He'd had it for

years, ever since she'd known him.

82, year of his birth, and Uqbar.

She said she never knew what Uqbar meant.

Then it was down to him.

Right.

It has inside it a visa, which is a verse from the Holy Quran.

It protects against evil.

Her real name was Sabira Omorovic, and she was from Bosnia.

She had to pay a big price for her passport in Prague to make her legal.

Why didn't you tell us last time who she really was?

I thought I would be in trouble for it.

Is there anything else you didn't tell us last time, like who she was in your

room at the hotel with?

Oh, I don't know. I promise.

Is there anyone else she mentioned? Someone at work, say?

Not her boyfriend, no.

She did tell me about one boy who was strange.

He made photos.

Photos? He thought she did not know, but she did, and he followed her, she

believed. What was he like?

She said 16 or such with wild hair.

Anything else about him, Lana?

Sometimes he had model figures.

Like soldiers.

Now, move away from the computer, please.

You admitted you saw Marina outside the hotel the other night. You didn't tell

us you knew her. Why not?

I didn't know her.

But you wanted this.

You're talking, Hayden. No, it wasn't that, but that's not why I... All right,

leave him alone.

Why don't you show them?

Princess Ultima.

I hate her.

Why?

Because that's what kids do when they're into all that stuff.

It's harmless.

Where were you last night?

And what happened to your lip?

Dorian hit me.

Why?

Because he was looking for Alice.

They'd had this row or something and I wouldn't tell him where she'd gone.

he'd hit you, what happened?

I went to the Eagle and told to look for him, but he didn't turn up. Why were

you looking for him? Round two? Trying to finish what you'd started?

No, I went to say sorry. I don't like fine things. You'd had a few drinks at

book launch the other day. Did you see Marina? Decide to follow her?

No. What was she doing at the hotel, Hayden? Do you know?

Look, unless you're arresting him, I don't think you should ask him any more

questions. He's clearly upset.

It's obvious to me he doesn't know anything about Marina's murder. Is

that car again?

Further on.

This time she's putting in.

Run a check on that number plate.

We'll be back here. You wait and see. I don't bloody believe this.

I don't think we've got much choice, though. We've got his car picking up,

Marina. He says he doesn't know, and the murder weapon was hanging on his wall.

Hamid Yassim, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

Hamid!

I'm showing Professor Hassim photos of Zbira Omerovich, otherwise known as...

Marina Hartner.

Getting into and being driven away in a car registration number VO57RJZ.

Are you the registered keeper of the vehicle?

Yes, I am.

Were you driving it?

Yes.

I'd seen her coming out of the Randolph and I offered her a lift, but she said

no thanks.

Then I stopped and asked her again, as you see, this time she changed her mind.

But I had to drop her at the river as my wife had phoned me. We'll come to that.

Had you met her before?

Yes, often.

First time was in a cafe.

She was sad.

On her own.

She was trying to refasten a locket onto a broken chain.

Her taouide.

Yes.

I asked her if she was a Muslim.

and she told me her story.

Which one?

Fatherless at six, because he'd been ethnically cleansed.

Motherless a year later, when a mortar dropped on some market queue in

Sabira managed to survive somehow, prostituting herself eventually, until

arrived here in Oxford as Marina from Prague, ordered over the internet.

Like a commodity.

No longer knowing who she truly is.

We used to meet up from time to time to discuss what it was like to be a Muslim

in this land.

Did you disapprove of the way she was living?

Yes.

More than you can imagine.

I imagine.

But I'm hardly the Taliban.

What did you think of Dorian Crane?

We got on.

I enjoyed his company.

His academic work was derivative, though.

Much like his literary efforts.

Even the title, Boxlands, is a nod to your namesake, Inspector.

At the age of eight, C .S. Lewis wrote a story called Boxen.

About an imaginary world based on his toys with, um, King Bunny and...

Gollywog, the servant.

Didn't he bury his toys when his father died?

Yes. Professor, did Marina Zabira say why she was in the Randolph Hotel?

To meet a man.

A doctor.

She was proud.

A very clever, clever doctor.

Doctor? A GP?

You know what these foreigners are like.

Perhaps she meant an academic.

Are you sure you're part of the advanced driving deck?

I'm trying to read.

Come on through.

Alice?

I'm glad you're here too, Professor.

How are you, Alice?

I don't know.

You might like to leave the room for a while. What I've got to say might be a

bit upsetting.

Upsetting?

Right.

We now know that Marina Hartner was using a room at the Randolph Hotel to be

with a man.

You told us you were called away from the book launch to a patient.

You say Dr. Wishart came back from his call out to your room to drink brandy.

Yes.

Who was the patient?

Oh, um, an elderly woman. She'd had a fall. What was her name?

Oh, uh... If you can't quite remember, we can easily call your practice.

Just tell them.

Oh, I will.

What is it?

Uncle Norman?

The time has come, the world has said, to talk of many things.

Like how you tried to provide each other with false alibis?

Because you'd both been involved with Marina Hartner?

There was no late night brandy drinking in your room, was there?

Nor a call out to a patient?

No.

So which of you was with Marina on the night she was killed?

Me.

We were lovers.

Oh, no.

It was long after Mum died.

I was lonely.

You had us, Dad.

And you knew?

He brought her here once.

I thought I was out.

But I saw them in Mum and Dad's room.

That's why you turned Marina into a fantasy.

To put her where you wanted.

Make her just little.

So that text that you received at the launch, it wasn't from a patient?

It was Marina's idea of a surprise.

She was upstairs. She said that she was in a friend's room, a chambermaid's.

We... We made love.

And... She left by the staff entrance. I came home.

Were you aware that your brother -in -law had started this affair with your

-lover?

No, I didn't know until Jem told me.

I'd asked him to help me out with an alibi in case the police discovered

Marina and me.

Why did you need an alibi?

To avoid embarrassment.

Why? What were you really up to on the night she was killed?

I went to visit, uh... What are you meant to call them?

The sex workers.

A prostitute.

I can give you her name.

I think you better.

How long were you with her? Four hours?

Hardly.

But thanks for the compliment.

No, four hours is the window for the murder.

Oh.

Go on then, Sergeant.

I'll be inviting you both to provide a DNA sample on a voluntary basis only

until and if one or another of you is arrested on suspicion of the murder of

Marina Hartner.

In the meantime, I'm arresting you both for obstructing police inquiries.

Surely you don't think either of them could be a killer?

I think Sergeant Hathaway does.

So what about Dorian?

His murder and Marina's, is there a connection?

I think the connection is you, Alan.

Me?

Can you think of anyone who...

Hated Dorian? Really hated him for any reason?

People found him difficult to get close to sometimes, but he was what he was.

I asked to be no other man than I am.

That was the last thing that he said to me.

That's from Foxland.

The hero says it at the end of that chapter.

And I saw it in Dorian's room, too.

I'm a child of something, and I won't... I'm a child of

fortune, and I shall not be shamed. I ask to be no other man than I am.

Nick that from Sophocles, Oedipus Rex.

Oedipus.

The one who married his... mother.

Get on to the chief's super. I want to know exactly when she'd have been

that. J .L.

Porsche's bloke? Was it at university?

We rang your door, Ginny.

I'm... I'm bearing Dorian's childhood.

May we pay our respects?

It's his boxers, isn't it?

Maps, language, people, a whole world. I have a right to it. Ginny,

put it down.

Why?

You're my friend.

You remember university.

You loved the stories of Borges.

Akbar?

Imaginary land.

It can hold all one's imaginings.

I introduced Dorian to that wonderful story.

And to Boxon, C .F. Lewis's imaginary land.

Yeah.

Tell us about it, Ginny.

No one will take that world away from you. No one ever could.

Alice wasn't Dorian's muse, was she?

Whatever his publicity said, you were.

He was more than that.

Did you finish the chapter?

I wasn't sure you'd realise what it meant.

You horrified.

I think it's fair to say that.

If it means you had a sexual relationship with your foster son.

Does it?

Did it start when your husband left?

He betrayed us.

We comforted each other.

We spent more time with talking and drawing and telling

stories than we ever did in bed.

We made our own secret world with its own rules.

How long did the relationship continue?

Till university.

We made a clean break of it.

I told him to move on into the real world.

And then the first book came out, Halfwoods.

I recognised our creation.

Of course, he had transformed it into something that everyone could love.

He is brilliant.

He dedicated that one to you. He dedicated Boxer's to Alice.

Muse and bride.

Bride, fine.

I would have worn a nice hat and been delirious for them.

But Muse... That wasn't Alice's fault.

Innocent people suffer all the time.

That poor girl I killed by mistake.

I thought it was Alice in the dark.

And then...

Alice came to see me and she said he had told her about being fostered.

Never said that to anyone before.

And I knew then, I knew once they were away from here, once I had lost him

forever, that he would tell her the biggest secret of all.

He said, the heart can and should obey the head.

It wasn't even his own words.

I pushed the sword of truth home into his heart.

If I could say good result.

Mom.

You're dying to tell me something, aren't you?

That quote about the heart and the head.

Lewis. Yes.

It would be.

Do you know what one of the inklings is meant to have said when Tolkien started

reading them Lord of the Rings?

Oh, spare me, Sergeant. I've had enough of imaginary worlds.

You'll like it, sir, I promise.

Go on, then.

They said not more flipping elves.

Except that he didn't say flipping.

I like it.

Home, James.