All language subtitles for Lewis - 03x02 - The Quality Of Mercy_640x352

Is your name Shylock? Shylock is my
name.

Well, the strange nature is the suit you
follow, yet in such a rule that the

Venetian law cannot impugn you as you do
proceed.

You stand within his danger, do you not?

Aye, so he says.

Do you confess the bond?

I do.

Then must the Jew be merciful?

On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.

The quality of mercy is not strange.

It droppeth as the gentle rain from
heaven upon the place beneath.

Tis twice blessed.

It blessed him that gives and him that
takes.

Tis mightiest in the mightiest.

Becomes the throne in one of faith and
crown.

Need any help with your luggage, Mr.
Bunker?

No, thanks. I'll leave them here, and
one of us will pick them up later.

Copy.

Thanks.

Thank you.

Psylocke, dear heart, not too Jewish.

When we're doing Fiddler on the Roof,
we'll let you know.

Portia, my darling, in trial being the
most famous in the whole of the drama,

you are pleading for a man's life.

You're not trying to sell the quarter
timeshare in Spain.

Antonio, sweet Antonio, think about the
story.

This man is demanding a pound of human
flesh.

Human flesh. No more, no less.

You should be petrified at the moment
you seem to be mildly concerned.

I must obviously try harder to be
petrified.

Happy birthday, Bonnie, love.

We've got two previews today.

Two chances to get this thing right
before the critics and agents descend

pack. of ravening wolves on our humble
fold tomorrow evening.

Don't worry about this afternoon.

The audience will be friends, family, ex
-lovers, and the odd civilian who might

come in out of the rain.

It's open air. We'll still get wet.

Metaphorically. Metaphorically, the
rain, it's rain every day.

Wrong play. Bottom line is, this
production could make or break all of

though it isn't obvious from the
unprofessional way you're going about

Being late for rehearsals is a cardinal
thing. I was finishing an essay. That's

no excuse.

The question is, where do you all expect
to be in ten years' time?

Well?

I shall be home in Iran.

I hope to be occupying a senior position
in government.

I'll probably still be here, teaching
all the stuff I'm learning at the

And I'll be enjoying a three -in -a -bed
sex romp in Hollywood, probably.

You see?

Richard understands.

Is Amanda Costello coming? I believe the
blessed Amanda is going to honor us

with her present. Good.

The woman owes us a favor.

It's only a preview.

We don't open for real until tomorrow
night.

I'm leaving town this evening, so it's
my only chance.

It's a sentimental thing. I was at this
college about a thousand years before

you were born. Oh, well, look on the
bright side. Tickets are half price.

Thank you.

Hello. Hey.

It's very good of you to come. It'll
probably be a total shamble. Oh, it's a

function of a preview to be a shamble.

This is my only window. I'm singing
magicals tonight.

And I can't beat your first night proper
because I'm sharing a debate on

Moliere. The punishment for some sin I
have no recollection of committing.

Oh, what a shame. The man's coming
tomorrow night.

That's very brave of her.

Excuse me.

I need to be nice to someone.

I don't.

How are you?

Word perfect, as usual.

Oh, never mind.

But Richard's a perfect Shylock.

I'm sure we can still be friends.

Sorry.

Hello.

Who

do you have to

sleep with to get out of this
production, eh?

You tell us. You're the expert.

Don't worry, Richard. I'm sure you'll
deal all the notices before they starve

your magnitude.

I have a question.

When Sir John Gielgud gave his
celebrated hamlet here in 1673, where

his bike?

What are you doing here, Phil?

Oh, you know me, darling.

It's my gritty proletarian roots.

I enjoy blood sports, bare -knuckle
boxing, air -courting, students doing

Shakespeare. Philip, who would be likely
to steal such a bicycle?

That's a fair point.

I'll probably just dump it and steal a
better one, eh?

Hi, guys. Just dropped by to say break a
leg.

I'm surprised you didn't want to break
both of my legs.

Thank you, Mrs. Munson.

Have a nice day.

Any time for a latecomer?

Not as the latecomer as the professor
who's on the telly.

Have you seen Richard? He's gone in
five.

Green room, toilet, standing in a
corner, trying to remember his lines, or

a stone somewhere having a last -minute
fit. Try them all.

I don't know.

Ladies and gentlemen, please forgive
this break in transmission, but a member

the cast has been taken ill.

If we could crave your patience for ten
minutes or so, we'll take an early

interval and make a further announcement
when we have a clearer idea of the

situation.

The bar is open.

Thank you so much.

Excuse me.

I've no idea what's going on, but I'm
giving a lecture in, um... Oh, five

minutes ago. You are?

James Alderson.

Professor James Alderson.

Archaeologist. Very good.

I've seen you on BBC4.

If you could just leave us some contact
detail.

Thank you.

Single stab wound to the heart.

With? A very sharp knife.

According to the 12 -year -old stage
manager, it's the one they use in the

They use a real knife?

Well, only to threaten.

Nobody gets murdered.

It's the Merchant of Venice.

That's the one with the pound of flesh.

Uh -huh.

Got it.

I've lined up everybody beside the bar,
ready for names, addresses and witness

statements.

Do we know who she is?

Emma Golding, director.

She's very keen to jump the queue.

I'll see you later in the bar.

Emma Golding? Yes.

Detective Inspector Lewis.

I gather you want to be first in line to
give your witness then.

That's easy. I didn't witness anything.
I was just standing at the back.

It's a bit delicate.

Don't worry. I'll do delicate.

We're supposed to open tomorrow night.

We've got lots of agents and critics
coming.

And?

Is it all right if we still go ahead?

Without Shylock?

Hamlet without the prince?

Well, I've got another actor ready and
waiting. Joe Myers.

He took the trouble to learn the part
and then I didn't cast him.

Three.

Do actors kill to get part?

Some would. They could get away with it.

You don't seem very upset.

I'm sorry.

Well, the thing is...

My mother does some bereavement
counselling, and she says one way of

with the loss of somebody close is to
focus on practical matters and let the

grief take its time.

Try and remember that.

Leave it with me.

Thank you.

Mr... Monkford. Simon Monkford.

Your connection with the play?

None whatsoever. I wanted to see it.

Came in off the street and bought a
ticket.

That one.

Sat there and didn't move.

I don't know what this is all about, but
I guess that ticket's my alibi.

Here you go, sir. Do you live in Oxford?

I'm just passing through, staying at the
Randolph.

But I'm leaving town this evening, round
about now, actually.

You leave an address and a contact
number. No worries.

Here are yours.

Thanks, sir.

Right.

OK.

Found this.

Note on the body.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be.

Shakespeare? Hamlet.

Wrong play.

Well, this is Oxford.

Don't I bloody know it?

Might you collect my suitcase?

I'm sorry, sir. Your wife collected them
earlier.

I don't have a wife.

A blonde lady. She was here about three
o 'clock.

I have a girlfriend with dark hair. She
was here with me last night, but I've

never had a blonde wife.

And I'm sure I'd remember a thing like
that.

Ah.

Would you like to speak to the manager?

I think that would be a very good idea.

Are you done with them all?

Executive decisions sent the actors and
their nearest and dearest to the green

room in the main building and let the
more obvious civilians go home.

Names and addresses?

Yeah, of course.

And I know when Richard Scott was
murdered.

You do?

Act 3, scene 2.

Known to Shakespearean scholars the
world over as the casket scene.

Let me guess, Shylock's in the scene
before... And the one after, which is

they couldn't find him backstage in the
panic setting.

Practical matters first.

For obvious reasons, tonight's preview
is cancelled.

Whether you proceed with the official
opening tomorrow night is something that

needs to be decided.

Well, I think most of us would like the
show to go on.

After all the work we've done.

Does it have to?

Yes, dear, I think it has to.

It's what Richard would have wanted.

I'm sure.

Is it right your word perfect?

To the last dot and comma.

Even the nuances have nuances.

But we'd like you all to stick around
for a couple of hours because we need to

speak to you all individually.

I told Mr. Lewis it wouldn't be a
problem, since we'd be here anyway for

rehearsals under... Normal
circumstances.

Quite so.

I'm not sure I can remember normal
circumstances.

Um... Yeah?

May I go first? I'm singing magicals in
a choir this evening.

How do you fit into the scheme of
things?

Professor Denise Gregson.

I'm Emma's head of department.

And my landlady.

So please be very nice to her.

We're always very nice to everybody.

Emma Golding is your student?

Postgraduate. She's just done a huge
doctorate on the English theatre and

it all went wrong.

She's very young, of course, but her
writing is extraordinary.

Her dissertation's probably the best
I've ever read.

And your landlady?

I've got a big old Victorian house.

When my husband grew up and left home, I
decided to fill it with students.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be.

It's Polonius in Hamlet.

What about it?

It was written on a piece of paper found
next to Richard Scott's body.

Oh.

Is that funny?

It's ironic in the proper sense of the
word.

Richard had an expensive lifestyle and
owed money to everybody in the cast.

Probably to everybody in Oxford.

The idea of him playing a moneylender
always was totally bizarre.

Might that be a clue?

Watered my bargains. Cooled my friends.
Heated my enemies.

And what's his reason?

I am a Jew.

Hath not a Jew eye?

Hath not a Jew hand?

Organs? Dimensions?

Senses? Passions? Affections?

You left out affections.

Affections.

Passions. Fed with the same food. Hurt
with the same weapon.

Oh, bugger. Sorry, Ted.

I need to take this.

Carry on, you're doing fine. Yes?

It's true?

Your guess is as good as mine.

Okay, your guess is probably better than
mine.

Can we speak later? I'm still trying to
put on a show here.

Yeah.

If you prick her, do we not bleed?

If you tickle her, do we not love?

If you poison us, we not die, and if you
wrong us, shall we not... Either way,

my advice is keep well away from the
Rialto Bridge. That's not funny.

I'm not laughing. It is mildly amusing.

It's not a patch on how did you enjoy
the play, Mrs Lincoln, but it's not bad

for an archaeology student.

Shut up, Phil, for God's sake.

Sorry to interrupt.

Does anybody else have to get away
early? Yeah, I've got a bar job.

You're not involved in the production?

No, I'm just a groupie.

I enjoy hanging out with the stars of
tomorrow.

It's been a long month.

The name might not mean much to you now,
but give it time.

It'll mean even less.

You're a student.

I was.

Now I'm a dropout.

What?

I'm a working -class lout from the north
of England. They let me in to balance

the intake.

Once I was here, I thought I could win
the class war, but I was misinformed.

Why were you here this afternoon?

I worked with the company this year at
the Edinburgh Festival.

As an actor?

No, I wrote a play and they produced it.

They made a mess of it, but, hell,
nobody's perfect.

So you're a writer?

The jury's still out on that one.

How did you get on with Richard Scott?

Richard was just a little ambitious,
overprivileged child like most of the

others. Ambitious in what way?

We're all chancers.

We're all looking for the Oxbridge
shortcut into show business.

Does it work?

Ask yourself.

Beyond the Fringe, Monty Python.

Do you think you'd have heard of any of
those if they'd gone to Huddersfield

Poly?

Do you lend money to Richard Scott?

I've got a 15 grand overdraft, three
part -time jobs, an allotment, and I

in an airing cupboard at the professor's
penitentiary. Professor Greg Contex?

Yeah. It's me penance.

Somewhere along the line, I probably
said balls to the witch doctor.

I know it sounds like a silly question,
but do you actually like anybody in

Oxford?

Can I get back to you on that one?

What do we think about that, lad?

Might be worth a punt.

Embittered northerner with chip on both
shoulders.

Except he was sitting in the audience at
the time of the murder. Along with 20

other people all watching the play.

A man called Monkford tells me it's all
rather casual, a lot of coming and

going. Beaumont could have sneaked out,
done the deed and sneaked back in again.

So could any of the other 20 people in
the audience. True.

Is this neat or snug?

Did you like Richard Scott?

Not very much. He was a spoiled child.

Did you lend him money?

Yes.

Did he repay you?

No.

You don't sound very worried about that.

I come from a very wealthy Iranian
family.

How else would a dusky foreigner be here
at Oxford?

So please don't categorise me as an Arab
stereotype.

I wouldn't dream of it.

Isabel Dawson, second year history,
playing Porter.

Yes.

I have to do the quality of mercy speech
and make it sound like nobody's heard

it before.

Tell us about Richard Scott.

He was a brilliant actor.

We know he was always borrowing money.

He never borrowed any from me.

I assume you couldn't afford it.

He mostly borrowed from the other guys.

With the women, he always said he'd take
it in kind.

You mean sexually?

He thought it was God's gift.

Was he?

Not to me.

In the time -honoured phrase, he didn't
even get to first base.

But he didn't go short, if you see what
I mean.

I'm told you're all very ambitious.

Are you?

Not very.

Emma doesn't understand it.

Says I need therapy.

Joe Myers, you're taking over the part
of Shylock. For my sins.

Do you have sins?

Many and various, but they don't include
murder.

Why did you come to the performance this
afternoon?

I wanted to see him fail.

Why? The man was a waste of space.

Good actor, apparently.

Which made it worse.

The thing is...

Don't make the mistake of thinking we're
all here because we want to create a

lovely work of art.

We're all here because we're self
-centered.

On the make.

So we've been told.

We could take all the envy and jealousy
in this company, feed it into the

national grid and light up the whole
country.

Is that what you want to hear?

It's what we keep hearing.

Thank you.

What we've been told, nobody seemed to
like Richard Scott very much.

Borrowed money from the man, tried to
seduce all the women.

That's a fair summary.

And yet, you worked with him?

He had a redeeming feature.

Talent.

Even a touch of genius.

We took a show at the Edinburgh
Festival. He stole all the notices.

The next Olivier, all that kind of
thing.

How did that go down with the rest of
the company?

Most people were not thrilled to bits.

Some of us went out and bought wax
effigies.

So he's playing Shylock, the most famous
Jewish character in the whole of drama,

and you've got an Iranian in the
company. Whatever else this was, it

racist crime.

Richard wasn't even Jewish.

He was a womanizer, apparently.

Did you and he... We had a bit of a
fling way back, but it didn't add up to

head of beans.

That's another one.

Another one what?

Another quote from an old movie with
Beaumont, it was Casablanca and some

it hard. I had a bit of a fling with
Phil as well, also way back.

We'd play this game.

We'd have entire conversations and
quotes from classic movies.

You have a lot of flings?

This is Oxford.

About average, I'd say.

What is it about the theatre?

How come people end up hating each
other?

You all want to be rich and famous?

Famous will do.

Here's a question.

For the last 50 years, who's run the
British Theatre?

Don't know. Give in.

Men.

Oxbridge boys.

Well, to be precise, mostly Cambridge,
if you'll pardon the expression.

And you're going to change all that?

Damn right.

And this production is my calling card
into the business.

That's why it's so important for me.

You probably think I'm being totally
heartless, but... Focus on the

practicality. Keep the grief at bay.

Samuel Beckett didn't quite say.

Here he'll come anyway.

Scary woman, that Emma Goldie.

You reckon?

Yep.

Killer potential?

That's a different matter.

Murder your leading man the night before
you show up and it doesn't make sense.

Some pages of the tabloids could sell a
lot of tickets.

My mother used to go to the theatre on a
Monday.

Two for the price of one on a Monday.

They don't do that anymore, sir.

Oh, I don't know.

Hi,

sweetheart. Amanda's back in town.

When can we meet? I need all the dirt
and only the best quality will do.

Well, it may be murder and mayhem to
you, darling, but it's bread and butter

me.

Thanks, Louie. You're welcome.

What is that?

Tonic water on the rocks with a slice of
lemon.

Tonic water?

I'm detoxing.

Tonic water on the rocks is one of the
preferred drinks of recovering

alcoholics.

Plus, it gives one a sort of spurious
glamour.

I'll bear that in mind, in case I ever
need any spurious glamour.

Mr Lewis.

Good to see you again. And you.

May I? Of course.

This is my sergeant, James Hathaway.

Graham Wilkinson.

Are you still setting in command here?

Oh, yes.

Waiting patiently for the big job.

I know the feeling.

I was wondering whether I could pick
your brains.

If you can find them.

It's been a long day.

We might have been the victims of a
scam.

What sort of scam?

A man leaves his luggage with a porter.
Says it to be collected later.

While he's away, a woman, claiming to be
his wife, turns up.

Scatty woman performance, says hubby's
been called away on business and he's

the ticket and can't she collect the
cases for him?

But an hour later, the man turns up,
denies having a wife and generally hits

roof. Could all be true?

Except I've heard of two or three
similar cases on the grapevine.

You report it to the police and the
victim, so -called, files a claim for

contents of the cases and the hotel's
insurance pays him off.

How much money are we talking about?

Three, four thousand pounds.

Does he have a name this month?

Simon Monkford.

Those are his contact details.

I know Simon Monkford.

You do?

He's mid -forties, well -dressed.

Yes.

He was at the theatre this afternoon. He
gave me his ticket.

Very nice of him.

No, he gave me his ticket and said,
that's my alibi.

It's almost as if, well, not the first
time in his life he'd needed an alibi.

And that's what we have so far.

Why would money be a motive?

Because the lad had debts all over the
place.

What did he spend it on?

According to Dr. Hobson, most of it went
up his nose in powder foam.

And sex?

For money from the men, tried to screw
all the women.

Sounds a real charmer.

Dare I ask you about art?

They all want to be stars.

No cure for that.

Forensics?

57 varieties of fingerprint on the
murder weapon.

It's in the play, so all sorts of people
have been touching it.

There's some dirt on the handle, but the
backstage area is in a garden, so

that's not much help either.

Ooh, you had a minor celebrity in the
audience.

I didn't notice any celebrity.

Professor Alderson.

Oh, the archaeologist.

Apparently one of his students is in the
play.

I thought he said he'd been on BBC Four.
What does he do?

People dig holes and he talks about what
they dig up.

Where is the Divine Sergeant?

High Wycombe.

Oh joy, a rapture.

Morning, sorry to bother you. I'm
looking for a man called Simon Monkford.

I see.

Sergeant Hathaway, Oxford, please.

Mr. Monkford gave this to his address.

Oh, did he?

Well, I'm not sure. You do know Mr.
Monkford?

Oh, yes.

He's my brother.

Invite the sergeant in, Christine.

We've been lifelong friends since
yesterday afternoon.

Thank you, Mr. Monkford.

Is it about that business at the
theatre?

No, not entirely. But if you have
anything to add to your original

That's just it.

I'm reading about it in the paper.

Oh, may I?

It's a desperately sad story, and I wish
I could help, but I was just watching

the play.

Did you say there was something else you
wanted to talk about?

Suitcases.

Suitcases?

Well, I don't understand why you'd stay
overnight in a hotel in Oxford when your

sister here lives half an hour's drive
away, and why take two suitcases for a

single overnight?

Were you the lady in the blonde wig?

May I take a look inside?

Go ahead. I'm not locked.

You're not very good at this sort of
thing, are you?

Nothing. I've never been very good at
anything.

I thought you should all know what's
happening today.

After discussions with your director and
the college authorities, it's been

agreed that tonight's performance will
go ahead as planned.

And we'll be making this...

Area available all day for rehearsal.

And may I say, on behalf of the company,
how grateful we are for the cooperation

we've had from Inspector Lewis and his
team.

However, this remains a crime scene.

And we reserve the right to make a
nuisance of ourselves at any time.

Who are you?

Amanda Costello.

You told me your name. Now tell me what
you're doing here. I'm a friend of the

family. A student?

I was. I finished my degree two years
ago.

She's a critic.

Journalist.

Freelance. I'll work for anybody who
treats me right.

A man is hateful of you to play.

And I'll probably write a feature piece
about the production.

The show must go on. That always goes
down well.

Alas, poor Shylock.

Was that you?

I didn't write the headline. That would
be some cheapskate sub -editor.

But the rest?

Substantially, yes.

Including the bits that said...

Police are exploring a number of
motives, including the possibility that

murder could be linked to artistic
differences within the company.

That's pure invention.

The official police statement never even
mentioned motives at all.

Simply stated the fact of the murder,
nothing more.

So should we take it the police are
ruling out artistic differences as a

possible motive?

These people have work to do.

You and I will find a nice quiet corner
and you can tell me all about your

friends in the family without the aid of
that tape recorder in your bag.

He's good, isn't he?

So is she.

I scored that 30 all.

You'll be held in custody pending
further inquiry, so my educated guess is

you're probably familiar with the
procedure.

Yes.

Only the names change, and each time I'm
a little older.

And you've got to find a murderer.

You say you're a friend of the family.

Tell me about the family.

Where would you like me to start?

Start with Richard Scott.

What did he ever tell you?

He was heavily in debt.

Apparently he was because of a drug
habit.

I'm determined to seduce any woman who
came in and reached.

Sounds about right.

But nobody mentioned the thieving.

Why don't you tell me about that?

It sort of blew up at the Edinburgh
Festival. Things went missing from

rooms and digs and so on. Can you be
more precise about these things?

Money from wallets and handbags, a
couple of mobiles, Phil Beaumont's

Did any of you report this?

Not as far as I know. I was rushing
around the city reviewing tent shows a

so I only know the gossip.

Tell me about the gossip.

Somebody challenged him about it, and it
turned into some sort of fight in the

bar at the assembly room.

A fight between?

Between Richard and Rajvani, our token
Iranian.

How do you fit into the family?

When I was here, I won the Student
Journalist of the Year Award, and the

couple of years I've been freelancing in
the big bad world out there.

I started as a theatre critic.

But you'll turn your hand to a good
murder story if it's in the family?

Professionally, I have no choice.

Okay, so that's done you and Richard
Scott.

Maybe you'd like to turn your
journalistic eye on some of the others?

Like?

Emma Golding? She seems to run the show.

Emma's brilliant.

I think she's too big for Oxford.

But don't tell Denise Gregson I said so.

Emma's her blue -eyed girl.

This is Professor Gregson, who also
plays Landlady, through a lot of the

Waifs and strays her speciality.

Mind you, some of them refer to it as
architrave.

Must rush. People to catch up with. Tail
to tail.

See you later, maybe.

Sure.

I'm your friend.

Lewis. You wrote that?

Is that funny?

Absolutely not.

Good. Your comma.

Fifth rate.

We're sitting in a cell where we check
his previous. I think there might be

quite a lot of it.

He's a sort of professional charmer.

Takes one to know.

Lewis.

Okay, I'll be there.

Richard Scott's mother's arrived.

Why do people die before their time?

It's not right.

I know that very well.

Oh, I suppose you would in your line of
work.

I suppose.

When he was little, Richard was always
dressing up in funny clothes

at parties and such.

Funny clothes and silly voices.

Did you know about his way of life here
in Oxford?

Not really.

I haven't even been to the house.

He let us come and see him in the plays.

But that was all.

I didn't mean the plays.

If you mean the drugs.

Yes, I knew about that.

I think it started as a kind of Dutch
courage thing.

He was actually quite nervous about
going on stage.

Well, he was nervous about a lot of
things.

He wasn't really at home with other
people, and it sometimes came across as

aggression, I suppose.

A sort of defense against the world.

We all need that from time to time.

My son was a mess, Mr. Lewis.

But he didn't deserve this.

He deserved a better...

And... I think we all do.

Thank you for listening to me.

Hello, Professor Gregson.

You come in.

Thank you.

Sue here.

As I said, my husband grew up and left
home, and it seemed a pity to waste such

a big house.

So you filled it with students?

This was poor Richard's room.

Where did he get his computer?

B &A?

It's an old one I blagged for him.

What happened to the laptop you stole in
Edinburgh?

I wasn't in Edinburgh. As far as I'm
aware, nothing was ever proved.

I'm an old -fashioned liberal, innocent
until proved guilty.

Is that why you call him poor, Richard?

They're all children when they come to
Oxford.

Some of them just can't handle it.

Trust me, Richard was one of nature's
victims.

He certainly is now.

Phil Beaumont, he lives in an airing
cupboard here.

Touch of hyperbole, but he is a writer.

I can show you if you like.

Please.

He used to share a double room here with
Emma when they were still a couple.

And then when they split, the room at
the top of the stairs.

He doesn't keep his door locked.

Doesn't believe in private property.

Therefore, doesn't believe in locking
doors.

Why did he drop out?

Filled the throwback.

He thinks the entire universe is a
capitalist conspiracy against the

class. He even called it capitalist.

It's rather endearing in a way.

Did he really have an allotment?

Yes. I think it belonged to his uncle.

Richard used to feed them about it.

He'd say, I know you want to get in
touch with your proletarian roots, but

don't do that by growing carrots.

So, can I ask you, is Mr Gregson still
around?

Yes, he's still in Oxford, but he's not
called Gregson. I kept my own name when

we married.

And he kept his own name?

Professor James Alderton.

Well, he should be on your list. He was
at the play yesterday.

Right, ladies and gentlemen.

Ladies and gentlemen.

For reasons you will all be aware of,
the part of Shylock will be played

by Joe Myers.

But we are dedicating this performance
to the family, friends,

and the gigantic but sadly unfulfilled
talent of the late Richard

Scott.

We thank you.

I know not why I am so sad.

It wearies me.

You say it wearies you.

How I caught it, found it, or came by
it.

What stuff it is made of.

Whereof it is born.

I am to learn.

Hello?

Yes,

can I speak to Inspector Wallace,
please? Is that the name?

Hey, is the arresting officer in a case
involving Simon Monkford?

Am I right in assuming that Mr. Monkford
operates under different names?

Hello?

Is your name Shylock? Shylock is my
name.

Well, the strange nature is the suit you
follow, yet in such a role that the

Venetian law cannot impugn you as you do
proceed.

You stand within his danger, do you not?

Aye, so he says. Do you confess the
bond?

I do.

Then must the Jew be merciful?

What compulsion must I? Tell me that.

The quality of mercy is not strained. It
droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

upon the place beneath.

Tis twice blessed.

It blesseth him that gives and him that
takes.

Tis mightiest in the mightiest.

becomes the throne -lead monarch better
than his crown.

I've got our version of the story of
your life.

Tell me your version. It might save us a
lot of time.

I was thrown out of school.

Well, two schools, if we're being
pernickety.

I was thrown out of Oxford.

Tried the military, but a little
misunderstanding over meth funds.

Failed as a raping driver.

Failed in the city.

And as you can see, I'm not desperately
good at petty crime either.

But always non -violent, I'll say that
in my favour.

And what about the five -year gap? Is
there a gap of five years in your

I ran away to Canada to start a new
life.

Why?

Well, simple terms, because some nasty
men were chasing me.

Canada's a long way away, and Canadians
are nice people.

And how was your new life in Canada?

Depressingly similar to the old one.

I've no idea what you're going to write
about us, and this is not to be

construed as a bribe, but we're all
going for a drink at Prospero's Bar.

Oh, look, it's the world.

Brilliant.

Oh, my God, that's lovely.

Thank you.

You are coming to Prospero's, aren't
you, Phil? Yeah, somebody else is

Professor Alderson?

Will Denise be there? She's meeting us
there.

Well done.

Thanks. I'm not sure I'm grown up
enough.

thank you for a wonderful performance
under difficult circumstances.

But before we do anything else, I'd like
to propose a toast

to our dear, departed Richard Scott.

May he rest in peace.

It'll be a new experience for him.

To Richard.

Well, well.

Another front page story on the way.

Trust me, this one will run and run.

Simon Monkford, also known as Sean
Matthews.

No, he would have been with you in
Toronto from January 2003 to January

year, if he's telling the truth.

Which is a 50 -50 shot.

What, here?

Yeah.

at one -ish in the morning?

Don't you guys sleep? No, no, we never
sleep.

We always get our man.

Except when it's a woman or in an
occasional transsexual. What?

Well, let me see what I can do and I'll
get back to you. No, no, I appreciate

that. Thank you.

How's your way?

Yeah, I'll be there immediately.

Do we know who it is?

Amanda Costello, the journalist.

Alas, poor Amanda.

It's a wee small hours of the morning,
you were still at your desk.

I was waiting for the Royal Canadian
Mounted Police to return a phone call.

Tell me later. Let's go to work.

Hi.

Are you okay, Pa?

Barman brought down the empties, filled
the body and immediately called the

police. Caused the death?

She's been strangled. With?

Well, a bit primitive, but probably a
piece of string.

Sounds very definite.

That's still around her neck.

I don't know.

I will lead them up and down.

Another Shakespeare park, Midsomer
Night's Dream.

Someone's playing games with us.

Mr. Webster?

Yes.

What time did you come down to the
cellar?

Yeah, about twenty past one, just after
we closed.

You had a bunch of theatricals in
tonight.

Yeah, you're telling me.

How were they?

Loud. Very loud.

Lots of hugging and kissing.

Were they here until closing time?

Not quite.

They left about half past twelve,
quarter to one.

They were going back to somebody's
house.

They bought a few bottles to take with
them.

How short was your cash then?

It was an older woman that picked up the
tab.

One of the professors, I think.

Was there much coming and going all the
way?

It never stops.

You know, if they're not going for a pee
and going out for a smoke... You have

CCTV on the premises?

No.

Basically, I'm the security around here.

The woman whose body you found, did you
notice anything about her during the

evening?

She was louder than most.

Shown off, I'd say.

Something about what she was going to
write.

A big story.

Was she a journalist of some kind?

Of some kind, yeah.

The Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

Yeah, about Simon Monkford.

He had the suitcases.

He's got a record as long as your arm.
He spent five years on the run in

Toronto, so I thought it might be worth
checking.

We've got a double murder on our hands.
You're messing about with some two -bit

commerce. Yeah, but I feel there's
something more.

By the pricking of my thumbs.

Don't tell me. Shakespeare.

Bravo. I'm getting sick of bloody
Shakespeare.

You know, this second murder changes
everything.

In what way?

Well, Amanda Costello left Oxford two
years ago.

So whatever it was behind all this
didn't happen last week.

Maybe in Edinburgh in the summer.

At the festival?

They took a couple of shows up there and
all hell broke loose, apparently.

Scott was accused of stealing and there
was a fight.

Highly theatrical.

Yeah, there's a reason for that.

I'm still trying to work out who was
sleeping with who and in what order.

We can eliminate one possibility.

Make my day?

Amanda Costello, she gave the play a
four -star review.

What possibility does that eliminate?

Well, look, one of the cast overheard
her phoning in her copy to the paper,

didn't like what they'd heard, so
decided he'd have his revenge.

Or her revenge.

What century are you living in?

Journalists don't phone in copy anymore.

They do it electronically on their
blackberries and things.

Does she have a blackberry?

Had it with her at the theatre.

Where is it now?

I've no idea.

It wasn't with the body in. It wasn't in
her room at the hotel.

Strikes me it'd be worth finding.

Truth is, these actors are like some old
-fashioned criminal gang.

Close -knit, incestuous.

Cardinal Thin is grasping on your mates.

Like the police force.

I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

Be back in a now.

Terry Bainbridge. You edit the student
paper? One of them. The best, naturally.

Amanda Cotterteller was a previous
editor?

Yeah. Yeah, it's weird.

She was in here yesterday afternoon.

Doing what?

Checking up some stuff she wrote while
she was here. She said, no idea what.

Were you at Edinburgh in the summer?

No.

I had a holiday job in Skegness.

But she stirred things up a bit, didn't
she?

It's what she did best, stirring.

A speciality.

Well, I can show you.

I've been checking out her files for you
a bit.

Here's one of her reviews.

Joe Myers in Richard III.

Joe Myers played the king as if somebody
else had already played the ace.

That's very clever.

Now stolen from George Bernard Shaw, I
believe.

But she always said the feeling was all
right as long as you stole from the

best. Do you have anything from
Edinburgh?

Yeah.

Emma Golding took two productions to the
festival. A modern dress version of

Timon of Athens reset in Beirut.

And a new play by Phil Beaumont.

The lad who dropped out?

Let me show you.

It was called The Road to Nowhere.

What was that about?

No idea.

And I did see it.

But what Amanda wrote was...

We were promised a cross between Harold
Pinter and John Osborne.

What we were given was a cross between
Harold Steptoe and Sharon Osborne. I bet

that went down well with the troops.

She also had a good nose for dirt.

She used to write an anonymous column
called Gossip from the Forest.

This was her finest hour.

All is not well with one of Oxford's
dream couples.

We hear that the police were called to a
domestic incident involving two of our

most eminent academics.

Who, we wonder, will get custody of the
spade?

The spade?

Uh, I think archaeology.

This is Professor Gregson and Professor
Alderson? Yeah.

What was their reaction?

Uh, no idea.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Or maybe better.

Apparently Amanda also said last night
that she was working on something big.

Any idea what that might have been?

No idea.

But it would have been investigative
journalism.

Also known as muckraking.

Five years ago, your brother went to
Canada.

Yeah.

Because he was on the run.

I've been on the run all his life.

Canada's a long way to run. He could
have come here.

He, um... He had some sort of breakdown.

A nervous breakdown?

They still call that.

Or is it post -traumatic stress?

Anyway, it was something like that.

So there was a trauma?

He was a bit vague about it.

But it was some sort of car accident.

He was driving, and I think he might
have hit somebody.

That made it worse.

He was proud of his driving.

Wanted to drive racing cars for a living
at one point.

Where did this happen?

In London. Somewhere in the West End, I
think.

Do you remember the date?

Yes, easily.

It was my birthday.

December the 19th.

Phone rang and I heard his voice and I
assumed it was a happy birthday call.

But it was obvious something was wrong.
Sorry.

Thank you very much. You'd be very
helpful.

You're very thoughtful.

Because I'm thinking.

There's my right for asking.

Can we come in?

Of course.

This is common land. It belongs to the
people.

So what can I do for you?

I've got some nice potatoes, but the
carrots need another week.

I'd like you to tell us about Edinburgh.

It's a big city in Scotland.

You had a play on at the festival there.

Amanda Costello blasted it out of the
water, and last night she was murdered.

If writers murdered critics because of
bad reviews, there'd be no critics left.

It might be worth trying... Even so,
we're detectives, and we detect a

motive.

Well, why would I wait till now?

If I was the murdering kind, I'd have
done it there and then before she could

wreck any more careers.

Did she wreck yours?

Don't be ridiculous.

I haven't got a career.

Yet. Do you use a lot of string?

As much as is necessary. That's a weird
question.

No weirder ones where that came from.

Excellent. I like weird.

We're told Richard Scott stole your
laptop while you were in Edinburgh.

Nothing was ever proved.

He was a light -fingered bastard with a
drug habit, but... I've gone back to pen

and paper.

Good enough for Shakespeare, good enough
for me.

When we first talked to you, we asked
you whether you actually liked anyone in

Oxford. You said you'd get back to us.

Shall I do it now?

Go ahead.

We all arrive here as more or less
innocent, fresh -faced 18, 19 -year

But then the place corrupts us.

It's a rat race, it's poisonous, and it
doesn't make for very nice people.

Is that why nobody cries?

Sorry?

Two of your friends are murdered.

Nobody seems very upset.

Well, I'm not crying because I didn't
like either of them.

As for the rest, I don't know, perhaps
weeping isn't considered cool.

People on these allotments, they're
nice.

Yes.

Because we're only competing with the
Earth.

And we know we're going to lose.

That's it.

Going to a pile of dirt beside the A34.

Someone else uses string.

Oh, there's a lot of it about.

Sorry to disturb you while you're busy,
Professor Alderson.

Don't worry.

In this kind of work, time is not of the
essence.

You can probably guess why we're here.

Did you go to the party after the show
last night? Yes, I popped in for half an

hour or so.

Just to give moral support to young
Antonio here.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

But you didn't go to Professor Grayton's
afterwards?

No, no.

I'm persona non grata.

No doubt Denise has given you the stock
line.

I grew up and left home.

It has been mentioned.

We're also told that your marriage was
mentioned in the gossip column of a

student newspaper.

Police called to an incident.

We were shouting at each other and a
neighbour got worried.

In our defence, we were both under a lot
of pressure at work.

You have to get your ration of firsts.

It's not just primary schools that have
league tables these days.

We all have to tick our boxes, don't we?

Did these arguments ever get violent?

We were sometimes near the edge.

But we never tipped over.

Thanks, Jim.

Cheers. Great.

I'll ask for back copies of all the
student papers with contributions from

Amanda Costello.

Including anonymous gossip.

Is he a girl?

Oh, yeah.

A muckraker in the great tradition.

Dishing the dirt on fellow students and
members of staff.

Also a thief.

She stole some of her best lines.

Joe Myers played the king as though
someone else had already played the ace.

George Bernard Shaw.

Inspector Lewis.

Yeah, see you.

Oh, hang on.

Metropolitan Police, I want to work.

Hi.

Did you find out anything?

Well, it's the answer I expected. I'm
just not sure whether it's the answer I

wanted.

Thank you.

What's all that about?

Simon Monkford, con man, the early
years.

Is that all?

Yeah, for now, though.

Inspector Lewis.

All right.

Okay, we'll be right there.

There's been a break -in at Professor
Gregson's house.

Anyone hurt?

Apparently not, but there's a bit of a
mess.

You stay here.

Carry on with these.

You're better at all this than I am.

You're better at messes.

I'll have my moments.

Oh, sorry.

seem to have targeted my study.

Nowhere else?

Nowhere else.

I don't lock my door, so once you're
inside the house, it would be alarmingly

easy.

Who else has keys to the front door?

All the people who live here, and all
the people who've lived here in the

There's a good difference of keys around
Oxford.

Do you have anything valuable?

A computer, a CD player, some of the
books, I suppose.

We'll have our forensic people check it
over.

And when they've finished, maybe if you
can let us know if there's anything

vital missing.

They're obviously looking for something.

Any idea what it was?

None whatsoever.

Do you think this is connected with
these ghastly things that have been

happening?

Chances are.

Horrible.

Amanda was my student too.

Really?

Was she brilliant?

Oh, yes, in her own way.

Damaged as a human being, but totally
brilliant at her work.

Afternoon.

Five years ago, on December the 19th,
you were driving a car along Oxford

in London.

The car was being used as a getaway
vehicle following a robbery on the

of a building society.

The car did indeed get away, but not
before it mounted the pavement, hitting

woman who died later.

It was you driving, wasn't it?

Yes. Did you ever wonder about the
identity of the woman that you killed?

Honest answer, no, I didn't.

Maybe I thought it would be easier for
me to deal with if she remained

anonymous.

Well, her name was Mrs. Valerie Lewis.

And she was married to Inspector Robert
Lewis, my boss.

So maybe you'd like to deal with that.

What's this? Hot news from High Wycombe?

In a sense, yes. I need to ask your
advice.

Isn't that Inspector Lewis's
responsibility?

It's about Inspector Lewis.

Tell me.

Simon Monkford, the con man that we have
in custody, he was driving the car that

killed Mrs Lewis.

Oh, my God.

You're absolutely sure about this?

Mm -hmm.

Well, the only legal question is whether
it's murder or manslaughter.

It's not the only question. The question
is, should I tell him when he's halfway

through a murder inquiry?

Why not?

Well, the last time I mentioned his
wife, he jumped down my throat. He's

very clear that his marriage is a total
no -go area. He doesn't talk to anybody

about it.

Well, I think it all depends on the
state of your personal and professional

relationship with him.

Are you not sure what that is?

Not always, no.

Why is that, do you think?

Well, he's a lovely guy.

You know, everyone likes him.

He's just very private.

And you get the feeling there's a lot
going on in his head which he doesn't

to share.

And you're not exactly a breezy
extrovert yourself, are you?

No.

Maybe the two of you should join some
encounter group.

Get in touch with your true feelings.

That was a joke.

Serious answer.

There's only one reliable way to find
out about any relationship.

Test it to destruction.

Could be your moment.

Hello?

I'll be right there.

He wants a second opinion on a mess.

Good luck.

What's the problem?

I need you to take a look at this.
Something about it doesn't stack up.

I'll be in the kitchen taking tea with
the inmates.

So you're pretty sure nothing was taken?

Assumingly not.

It's possible I might miss the odd
paperclip or a ballpoint pen in the next

couple of days, but as far as I can
tell, the whole thing is talking about

meaning or process.

Ah, it's like life.

It's like somebody making mischief for
its own sake. The sort of pranks

get up to in England.

Haven't we got as much mischief as we
can cope with at the moment?

Is that the sort of thing students do?

Make a mess of your study?

They do some mad things.

I have to confess, this is the first.

And if it were anyone who lives here, he
or she would be instantly homeless.

Sorry, have I walked into an Agatha
moment?

An Agatha moment?

Agatha Christie.

She gathers all the suspects together in
one room, and then the detective says

something really clever. And the
murderer makes the run for it.

Generally through the French windows,
which unfortunately we have not got.

Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but
I'm going to finish my tea and disappear

back to work.

I need to drink it.

Just had a cup of tea.

It was herbal.

You do need a drink.

So, what did you think of the mess?

Not the real thing.

Exactly. Kind of messy to tidy up in
half an hour.

Not a professional job, either. There
was some dresden, untouched, a couple of

Edward Lee watercolours on the wall and
what looked like valuable first editions

on the shelves.

The proper vandal would have smashed all
the dresden and peed all over the floor

at the least.

Conclusion?

Gentle warning for the good professor.

Unless she did it herself and picked
herself as a victim, probably.

Anyway, what have you been up to all
day?

Plowing through old student journalism,
trying to make a case for Joe Myers as

our killer.

Myers, pretending we're playing Shylock.

Why?

Quotations by the bodies, one from
Hamlet, one from Midsummer Night's

Myers is the only one in our gang who
was in both productions.

And on both occasions, Amanda Costello
singled him out for special attention in

print. He murders two people, he's clued
incriminating himself.

Doesn't make sense.

So then someone's trying to ditch him
up.

She gave me two lousy reviews, therefore
I murdered the woman.

Is that the case for the prosecution?

Are you a lousy actor?

Two agents who came to see the show the
other night want to sign me up, so no, I

don't think I'm a lousy actor.

So why was she so vindictive?

She fancied me and I didn't fancy her.

Would it help us to know who of anyone
you did fancy?

I don't know whether it helps, but the
answer's Richard Scott.

And was your love requited?

Is that relevant to your inquiries?

We have no way of telling.

Occasionally.

I can make out a case. Gay lovers
quarrel.

Joe Myers kills Richard Scott.

Amanda Costello makes an educated guess
as to what's happened and confronts

Myers with it at the first night party.

He says...

Talk about this quietly in the cellar.

But you'll say, did he fetch a piece of
string with him on the off chance?

What do you reckon? You usually have an
opinion. No, there's something else you

need to know.

Sounds exciting.

You're not getting married.

No. So it's about Simon Monkford.

What the pen?

How long have you known?

It's a call from the Met.

Is that what that was?

Final confirmation.

Date, place, time. Why the hell didn't
you tell me then? Because the last time

mentioned your wife, you made it very
clear to me that I wasn't to mention the

subject again.

It's different. This is purely
professional.

How can that be? What were you
frightened of? That I might go barging

interview room and battle the living
daylights out of the man? Well, I think

be tempted under the circumstances.

Well, maybe I'd be tempted too.

But it wouldn't happen. Shall I tell you
why?

Why? Because you're a good cop and you'd
stop me.

That is all you've proved is you don't
really know me.

You don't know yourself either.

Do you want to speak to him?

No. I just want to look at him.

Do you realise all our student suspects
have websites?

Of course I have.

Time was you had a fountain pen, now you
have a website.

Emma Golding's comes complete with a
copy of her dissertation.

According to Professor Gregson, the
finest piece of English prose since the

James Bible.

What's it about?

20th century drama, view from the lower
depths.

Want to keep you quiet for an hour?

Rough guess, I'd say 40 days and 40
nights.

I'm popping down to the theatre.

With a view to what?

We're up against a conspiracy of
silence, even though they talk all the

I'm going to have a one -to -one with
the only one that shed a tear.

I'm on in a minute.

I'll be very quick.

What is it?

A few routine questions?

Well, questions, certainly.

People have to tell me whether they're
routine or not.

Like, for instance, when Richard Scott
was murdered, you were the only one that

showed any emotion.

The rest, not a tear between the lot of
them.

Why was that?

Shock, I suppose.

It's the first time I've ever been close
to somebody who's died, so I cried a

bit. I suppose the others were trying to
be cool and sophisticated. I'm no good

at that.

I didn't like Richard that much. But
when you've acted with someone, it makes

sort of bond.

Probably like you and your sergeant.

Is that silly?

Yeah, I've heard sillier things.

What really happened in Edinburgh?

Sorry?

I've heard all sorts of half -baked
accounts of your adventures at the

Sex and drugs and rock and roll, I dare
say.

Richard stealing from you all and
getting thumped for his pains.

What was it that really mattered?

It wasn't about sex or drugs.

And I don't know for sure why it was
important, but everybody went apeshit

Phil Beaumont's laptop disappeared.

Phil being the one who sits in the
corner watching everyone writing it all

Five minutes, Isabel.

I'm sorry.

May I go to Venice now?

Have a nice time.

Oh, Robbie.

Did he tell you about Monkford?

Eventually.

Do you know all the time?

He consulted me about whether to tell
you and when.

That was thoughtful.

So are you two still friends?

Interesting question.

We're colleagues.

Workmates, I'd say, in the North East.

I don't swap comics every week.

He listens to weird music, but he's a
damn good cop.

He's just a bit young.

And I suppose enigmatic. He's private,
you know.

He says much the same about you.

Well, that's ridiculous.

There's nothing enigmatic about me.

So... Tell me honestly.

Are you okay?

Honest answer?

I don't know.

Just throw me something to work.

See if that makes me okay.

I just walked in on a eureka moment.

Oh, you found something?

I have. This is from Emma Golding's
dissertation.

Those eminent men and very occasional
women who dwell on Mount Olympus sharing

profound philosophical reflections
invariably do so with their eyes looking

upwards to heaven, whether they believe
in its existence or not.

Once in a while, why do they not cast
their eyes downwards to the shanty towns

and plums plastered at the foot of their
blessed mountain from which flow their

security and prosperity?

Takes a bright laugh to write stuff like
that.

Where does Eureka come in?

Well, about a year and a half ago, Phil
Beaumont wrote an article in the student

newspaper saying that basically all life
is shit.

But it did end with the self -same
paragraph about Mount Olympus.

Therefore what?

Phil Beaumont helped Emma with her
dissertation?

They're a couple. Why not? What couple
to do?

What about if you wrote the entire
thing?

An academic star who plans to run the
country one day.

Nobody stops her.

And the piece of work that gave a lift
off was, what, stolen?

Yeah, we don't know all the details yet,
but it could be a valuable blackmailing

weapon. Sorry, darling, you stole the
whole thing, but I won't mention it

if you chuck a little check in the post.

You reckon that's what Richard Scott
did?

Possible.

What about Phil Beaumont?

He knows what really happened.

Why's nobody murdering him?

Well, maybe he's careful.

Professor Gregson. What about her?

Well, if it comes out that people have
been awarded doctorates for other

people's work, her career would soon
start to unravel.

Sergeant Nicholson called from
Sheffield. Oh, yeah, that's his mobile

wants you to call him back.

In the morning.

Right. I'm ready to talk to Mumford now.

Are you with me? Yeah.

Back to Lewis.

If I said I'm truly sorry.

No.

Nothing helped.

In which case, may I offer you a
proposition?

Throw me.

Well, I was in the theatre the afternoon
that young man was murdered.

And I saw various people leaving at the
time in question.

I'd be happy to give evidence if that
would help you.

What would you get out of all this?

The nice, warm feeling that comes with
being a good citizen.

Drop the murder charge, and I'll plead
guilty to manslaughter.

What, are you trying to do a deal with
me?

It's not that simple. I'll tell you
what's simple.

We put you in court as a prosecution
witness with your record.

Any defense counsel would tell you it
shreds inside 30 seconds.

You no longer have the right to think.

We'll decide on the charges.

I don't do deals with people like you.

Do a bit of research on that.

So have a look at that and come and see
me again on Thursday.

Thank you.

Gentlemen.

You told us that Emma Goulding is a
brilliant scholar.

She is. That her dissertation is the
best you'd read.

Greatest thing since... Please, don't
say sliced bread.

Sliced bread is an abomination. I will
not have it in my house.

Is she writing it herself?

That really is a grey area.

I don't see that it's at all grey.

Did she write it?

Or did Phil Beaumont write it?

There were a couple at the time, so he
probably had an input.

You must understand how difficult it is
for university teachers these days.

We're more familiar with our
difficulties.

I've just sent some first -year students
an essay on Thomas Hardy.

They'll go straight onto the net, Google
Thomas Hardy, find 10, 20 ,000 entries.

The bright ones will pick and mix all
the best bits, throw in the odd spelling

error to make it look authentic.

And I'm supposed to sort out the
original thinkers from the looters.

But I will say this about Emma's
dissertation.

None of it was stolen from the internet.

It was all her own work. Or Phil
Beaumont's work.

As I say, he probably had an input.

You must ask them.

We're going to.

Hi, guys. What can I get you?

We'll have two coffees.

But before you do that, tell her
something.

Did you write Emma Golding's
dissertation?

Yes. All of it? Yeah.

Why? Because I'm a better writer than
she is.

I'm just about the best on the block.

Isn't that against the rules?

Probably. Mind you, Oxford works mostly
on unwritten rules, so there might not

be any.

I just thought it was funny.

Emma and I were a couple at the time,
soulmates, or so I thought.

I was dropping out anyway, so it seemed
like fun to take the piss out of the

system, sticking up two fingers as a
farewell gesture.

Soulmates? Yeah, for a while.

But then when I finished the
dissertation, she found herself another

Amazing, really.

That would be Richard Scott?

Yeah, who stole your laptop in
Edinburgh.

So I'm told.

You'd have said there wasn't enough
evidence.

But the dissertation was on the laptop.

Yeah, along with two unfinished novels,
a stage play, my diary, and a couple of

dirty limericks.

Your diary?

Yeah, my Oxford journal.

Is that something you were planning on
publishing?

No chance.

It was a bit, you might say, warts and
all.

I even named the warts.

Was there anything on there that could
have led to Richard Scott's death?

Or Amanda Costello's?

I suppose it's possible. I mean, it was
a secret diary. That was the point.

You'd have to know where to look.

And where should we be looking?

Ah, well, like the man says in the
movie, follow the money.

Up the way.

They'll be there in ten minutes.

Do you still want those coffees?

Yeah, but not today.

Good choice.

Where are we going to be in ten minutes?

Back to base.

Forensics have come through with some
interesting conclusions.

We know that Richard Scott was murdered
with that knife.

It was a really good clue, finding it
sticking in his chest. But now we know

certain that Amanda Costello was
strangled using this string.

And both weapons had identical traces of
soil on them.

And Phil Beaumont's allotment?

I don't bet against it.

So whoever stabbed Richard Scott was
wearing gardening gloves.

It's a persuasive idea.

Yeah, but you still come back to it. Who
takes a piece of string to a first

-night party on the off chance of
needing to murder someone with it? But

the icing on the cake.

The two quotations from Shakespeare that
we found next to the bodies were both

written on an old -style typewriter with
a carbon ribbon.

Phil Beaumont had a typewriter in his
room.

Yeah, but he never locked his room, so
anybody could have used it.

We need to talk to Emma Goulding.

Let her take on cheating away to a
doctorate.

Ask her about her ex -soulmate.

And I think... What?

I think we've been too nice to these
kids.

They should be behaving more like
coppers.

Shake their tree.

See what drops out.

Hello, Emma.

I hope it's important.

I'm meeting an agent from London.

We're investigating two murders. Shall
we walk together?

Tell us about cheating your way to a
doctorate.

No idea what you mean.

Well, your last major piece of work was
written for you by Phil Beaumont.

Will you manage on your own? You've
lined up another soulmate already.

I thought you said a murder
investigation.

Well, have you diversified into
copyright law?

Seemingly versatile and very thorough.

Meaning? Meaning we're going to start by
searching for treasure graves in the

town from top to bottom, not forgetting
the places you live, the places you

work, and the places you go to have fun.
And what on earth do you hope to find?

We want to test out Amanda's big story.

Well... Here's my big story.

I don't give a toss about my doctorate
or Oxford University. If this agent

up with the right deal, I'll be out of
here by the end of the week. All right?

We got the gist.

Thank you for sparing the time.

Hello? Yeah.

I've gone and frightened the children.

Let's make a limit.

Oh, Sergeant Nicholson.

Yeah, thanks for getting back to me.

Listen.

Simple question. A couple of years ago,
when you were down here in Oxford, you

were called out for a domestic incident.

A couple of academics.

Yeah, can you tell me anything you
remember about that?

Any joy?

No typewriter.

But I did find some intriguing bank
statement.

No kind of bonus laptop, either.

Professor Gregson rang. She said she
assumes there'll be receipts for

you take away.

Where is Professor Gregson? She's
teaching.

Teaching? Most unlikely.

We need to look somewhere else. I think
I can get.

I should hope so.

Professor Gregson.

It would be foolish to deny it.

Perhaps you'd like to tell us what
you've been doing here.

While Sergeant Hathaway does his duty
and searches the tool shed.

I suppose this is the moment when I say
I can explain everything.

I hope you will.

It's very simple.

I borrowed some secateurs from Phil to
prune the roses in my garden and decided

to return them in person.

But Phil Beaumont lives at your house.

You didn't return the secateurs over
breakfast.

I know, it sounds illogical, but... Was
this a sudden impulse or more

premeditated?

You've lost me there.

Well, did you decide when you got up
this morning, this afternoon I'll return

Phil's secateurs?

and therefore take them with you to
college?

Or did you decide much later?

Maybe Emma called to say we were going
to search her house.

Oh, God.

You sound so like a policeman.

That's because I am a bloody policeman.

Found these.

What's more, I think we were meant to
find them.

Shall we start again?

You're the bloody policeman.

I am a policeman.

But I'm operating on a pretty short
fuse, so be warned.

I'm going to put up with a lot of Oxford
bollocks on this case.

Theatrical jealousy, maybe sex, maybe
drugs.

But it isn't, is it?

It's about one thing only.

Your academic career.

Emma Golding.

Has just completed her doctorate here,
hasn't she? Even though you knew it was

Phil Beaumont who wrote it.

Now, Phil, who...

He despises this place anyway. He
doesn't give a toss.

Neither does Emma.

She'll be out of here by the end of the
week.

Who needs academic qualifications to
work in the theatre?

The only person that cares about any of
this is you.

Is it wrong to care about my students? I
would have thought that was a good

thing.

You paid Phil Beaumont £5 ,000 to keep
his mouth shut.

That, I suggest, is not a good thing.

We've seen his bank statements.

Unfortunately, the whole story was in
Phil's diary on his laptop.

So when Richard found it, he realised he
had you right over a bum.

I hate to state the obvious, but I'm not
the murdering kind.

Not according to Sergeant Nicholson of
Sheffield.

Who the hell's Sergeant Nicholson of
Sheffield?

When you met him, he was a humble PC
here in Oxford.

He was called out to a domestic, erm...

Disturbance? Report from one of your
neighbours.

Apparently you went for your then
-husband with a knife.

He, being a nice liberal -minded Oxford
don, decided not to bring charges.

Well, he always was spineless.

Let's assume that you murdered Richard
Scott and Amanda Costello.

Why Amanda?

Because she was one of the family, one
of your blue -eyed girls.

She knew what you were up to.

But that wasn't much of a story, was it?
A bit of academic naughtiness.

Maybe a couple of paragraphs on page
seven.

But the minute Richard was murdered,
straight to the front page.

She had a good, big story.

She boasted about it the first night
past.

All I have ever done is try to help my
students.

If you like students that much, why try
to implicate them?

Why try to pin it on Phil Beaumont? Oh,
Joe Myers come to that.

Those ridiculous quotations from
Shakespeare.

Theoretically, if I were a murderer, I'd
do all I could to implicate other

people at basic common sense.

What happened to Beaumont's laptop?

It's in the river.

The quality of mercy is not strained.

It droppeth as the gentle rain from
heaven upon the place beneath.

It is twice blessed.

It blesseth him that gives and him that
takes.

It is mightiest in the mightiest. It
becomes the throne of monarchs better

his crown. You are indicted on one count
of manslaughter.

Do you plead guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

Please be seated.

Thank you for coming with me.

It's okay.