All language subtitles for Lewis S06 E01 - The Soul Of Genius_640x360

Thank you Susan, I'll take it out to her

Coming here to Rokewood.

It's a simple job today. We're looking
to dig up this little beggar.

Rhododendron ponticum. Highly invasive.

We need to eradicate it at the root.

So we may have a lot of hard digging to
do, I'm afraid.

But it'll be worth it in the end.

Thanks everyone.

Let's go.

Back in...

What's it over there?

Snail, adult, must have been in there a
couple of weeks.

First inspection reveals loads of the
front right side of the skull above the

temple.

Probable cause of death, all pretty
straightforward really.

It's my day off.

I had plans, I was trying to have a
life. Instead of which, as usual, I'm up

my knees in body parts.

Sorry.

I don't think there'll be any surprises
in the post -mortem. But the grave's

pretty interesting.

The body was wrapped in a fine cloth.

Very fine.

And this was laid on the chest.

He was buried with some ceremony then.

I don't care.

There's a... It's on the back.

Nulli secundus.

Second to none.

Who found him?

Liv Nash.

She's a botanist, based at the Botanic
Garden.

And what brought her all the way out
here?

They were doing some conservation work.

Are you Liv Nash?

I'm Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

I'm sorry.

I keep thinking that I must have heard
him.

While I was digging.

Isn't that mad?

I know I couldn't possibly have hurt
him.

He's dead.

I'm sorry.

Look, it's a very traumatic thing to
find a body.

I've got a number here if you need to
talk to someone.

Thanks.

Thanks, Erbil.

I will call them.

You don't have a tissue, do you?

You're covered in snot.

Standard issue.

You must see stuff like this all the
time.

Yeah.

So who do you call?

Good question.

The dead man found in Roke Woods was a
Professor Murray Hawes, reported missing

a couple of weeks ago. One other thing,
he was ritually buried, shrouded, across

the twigs on the body. We're just
waiting for the post -mortem. Next of

notified? Yeah, his brother, Reverend Dr
Connor Hawes. He's the chaplain at

Carlisle College.

Chaplain? Must know a thing or two about
burials and rituals.

Just a thought.

Dr. Halls, I'm sorry to disturb you. D
.I. Lewis, D .S. Hathaway.

I'm afraid we have something for you.

My father gave him this watch when my
brother first came up to Oxford.

He was only 15, you see, and something
of a prodigy.

Thank you.

Can you think of anybody who might have
wanted to hurt your brother?

Was he in dispute with anyone?

No, not to my knowledge.

But I... I hadn't seen him for some
time.

When did you last see your brother, Dr.
Hawes?

Oh, I don't know.

Six months, a year.

We kept away from each other.

Your brother was found with a cross made
of twigs laid on his chest.

What do you make of that as a man of the
cloth?

That the killer had a conscience.

All right, thank you, Dr. Hawes.

If you do think of anything significant,
would you ring us at the station? Oh,

yes, yes, of course.

As expected, no surprises.

Cause of death, slow to the head.

There's some bruising and abrasions to
the face, which suggests a struggle.

Blood talk.

Nothing fatal, but not a happy picture.

Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol,
amphetamines.

Cigarettes and coffee for breakfast,
lunch and dinner. He didn't do things by

heart, did he?

I think the word like that.

Whatever gets you through.

Not a happy man.

It's got a spot in for a professor.

Formal hard times?

Mr Murray -Hawes?

I tell you that's not from Amazon.

Great big book.

Lot 92, The Hunting of the Snark and
Agony in Eight Fits.

Original working manuscript annotated by
Lewis Carroll.

Dated January 1876.

Annotated by Lewis Carroll.

I studied this. This is incredible.

You studied it?

I thought it was a poem.

It's a profoundly theological piece.
It's theological and philosophical.

It's a ten -man crew in search of a
snark.

And what's a snark?

That's precisely the question. Nobody
knows.

Nobody knows what they're looking for.
Sounds familiar.

Nobody knows what they're looking for,
but the danger is in finding it. For

they do, they will softly and suddenly
vanish away.

It's about the search for meaning, being
a nothingness.

The unanswerable questions of existence.

It's the impossible quest.

He's got ten copies of it here.

Quite an obsession.

The Hunting of the Snark is a poem over
which a sensitive soul might well go

mad.

Mad?

Oxford Botanic Gardens.

This place is a favourite haunt of Lewis
Carroll's. He used to come here for

picnics.

Looking for the head of the gardens.

Professor Wright.

I think she's in the lodge.

Fine.

So how are you? How are you feeling?

Much better, thanks.

I called that number you gave me.

It really helped.

Glad.

So what are you doing here?

Well, by a curious coincidence, our man
in the woods used to come here.

Murray?

He was nice.

Eccentric.

He forgot his shoes here once.

Came back from the next day.

So he was our man in the woods.

How did he end up all the way out there?

Is that right?

D .R. Lewis?

Yes. We're investigating the murder of
this man, Murray Hawes.

I believe he has a connection with the
garden.

Yes, he used to come here often. He was
a Lewis Carroll fan, wasn't he? We get

it all the time. It's a place of
pilgrimage for them.

Did you know him to talk to?

Inspector, I'm the director of the
gardens. We have 7 ,000 plants here. We

one of the pre -eminent botanical
research centres in the world.

I spend my life taking funding, worrying
over visitor numbers.

I have neither the time nor the
inclination to... What about

the police? Do you have the time or
inclination to talk to us?

Yes.

Yes, of course, I'm sorry. It's a
difficult time at the moment. I'm not

very well.

Why's that?

It's personal.

So did you know Murray well? You spoke
to him?

Oh, yeah.

He liked to talk. He used to monologue a
bit.

What about?

He was trying to solve something.

I don't know.

A calculation.

He was always taking measurements and
pacing distances out.

There was someone he wanted to beat.

That's right.

He was always talking about winning, my
triumph, my victory, stuff like that.

Did he mention anyone in particular?

Thing is, to be perfectly honest, I used
to zone out a bit.

Yeah, it likes to groan, that's for
sure.

What are you planting here? Plants and
their uses?

It's Helena's thing.

Botanical history.

Textiles, dyes, medicines.

This is our Doctrine of Signatures
flowerbed.

The Doctrine of Signatures was the...
Great herbalist Connor of the 17th

century.

You know about the Doctrine of
Signatures?

No one knows about the Doctrine of
Signatures.

God has signed his intention in the look
of things that man may know their

purpose.

Healing properties of plants, most of
which have no healing properties

whatsoever.

Signatura rerum.

And he speaks Latin.

I should, um... Yes.

See you then.

See you.

You remembered to ask her some
questions.

Yes, sir, I did. Thank you.

In fact, she was very helpful. Murray
Hall, it seemed, had a rival.

Mr. Great.

Bloody mice.

Chewing my books to buggery.

I'll have to put something down.

Oxford, please.

Oh, yes.

The snark.

Well, it was a bidding war.

There were four parties.

An American university, Murray Hawes, a
Swiss bank, and one was anonymous.

We need itemised billing for Gracie's
books. What clashed her for Murray Horse

was that he paid in cash.

The fellow was looking to make a quick
sale.

He paid cash?

How much?

200 ,000.

When was it? Do you know the date of the
sale?

He paid on the 9th at close of business,
6 o 'clock.

And he was supposed to come again in the
morning at 9 to take the Zetton of the

manuscript. We had to get it out of
secure store overnight.

But he never showed up.

So, in the end, we sent it high
security.

How did he seem that evening?

Oh, he was ebullient, overjoyed,
triumphant.

He was going to solve the riddle, wasn't
he? The riddle?

The riddle of the snark.

Carol was a great one for acrostics,
poems that are also riddles.

There are those who believe that there's
a code to be cracked in the snark.

Puzzle to be solved.

Look, is that all?

And, you know, I've been through this
once already, and I do have to get on.

You've already been through it once? How
do you mean?

One of your lot was in earlier, asking
questions of a woman, officer.

A woman?

Innocent? Chief Superintendent Innocent?
No, that wasn't her name.

Marland. D .I.

Marber. Yeah, that's it.

D .I. Marber.

D .I. Marber. Strange old bird. Who the
hell is D .I. Marber?

How did Murray Hawes get his hands on
200 grand in cash?

Head start, gents. Nutcase alert.
There's a lady with bags waiting for

she has information.

Interview one.

Good afternoon, Inspector.

Sergeant, I hope you will forgive the
impertinence, but I have some thoughts

like to share with you.

The dead man, Professor Murray Hawes,
was a Lewis Carroll enthusiast. In fact,

he had a particular interest in
Carroll's epic nonsense poem, The Hunt

Snark. Yeah.

No, no, Inspector, if you don't mind,
I'd like to carry on. I don't want to

the flow.

You may have heard of the riddle of the
snark. You may even have discovered that

Mr Hawes was trying to solve the riddle
of the snark. However, if you are

laboring under the assumption that Mr
Hawes died because of the snark... I'm

afraid you're greatly mistaken.

Who are you? There is only one line of
inquiry we should be following,

gentlemen. And that line relates to this
man, Dr Alex Faulkner, of the David

Institute of Clinical Medicine, where
Murray was a frequent participant in

clinical drug trials.

It's not illegal to run a clinical drugs
trial, Mrs... Marber. Michelle Marber.

No, but you often did... Mrs Marber,
have you been making your own inquiries

into this case?

You have to understand that
impersonating a police officer is a

No, no, Inspector, forgive me, I should
have explained. I'm conducting a wider

investigation into Dr. Faulkner.

So you're a private investigator?

Not as such.

All right, that's enough.

But I'm finished.

Yes, you have.

Murray's bank statements.

No much coming in.

Oh, there's a payment here from Davies
Clinical Medicine for £2 ,000.

And one for £1 ,500.

And another the month before.

She was right about the drug trials.
Alex Fulton was advertising for new

pigs.

Yes, Murray.

Murray was a regular of ours for the
last three or four years.

What's the most anyone could get paid
for taking part in one of these trials?

Oh, it's highly regulated.

There's a cap on what we can pay.

A couple of thousand.

When was his last trial? Can you
remember?

It's a few months ago. The last one he
came in for, we couldn't put him on.

He didn't pass the medical.

Too much rubbish in his blood.

That's it. When was that?

It was six weeks ago.

You must have got to know him quite well
over the years.

I don't know about well.

He was an obsessive.

He only had one topic of conversation.

The hunting of the snake. Yes.

We think he might have had a rivalry
going with someone.

Did you mention that?

Yeah. Yes, it was bitter.

It's what drove the obsession.

It was a sibling rivalry. His rival was
his brother, Dr.

Conahorne.

Dr. Faulkner, there's a phone call for
you.

Would you excuse me, Inspector?

Of course.

Thanks for your time.

You'll be fine.

Everyone's making such a fuss. I'll be
perfectly all right.

I won't go back to work this week.

I'll take some time off so I can be here
to look after you.

All I really need...

I'll make you some.

Well then, it hardly seems worth it with
only three of you here, but let's try

and make a seminar of it, shall we?

So, is the truth always the highest
good?

Kirsty, you always pitch in first. Give
us the benefit of your perspicacity.

The truth has to be the highest good.

It's not an ethical question. It's a
moral choice.

What is the truth, anyway?

This isn't A -level philosophy.

No, and you aren't Socrates.

Go on, Mr Vega.

Dazzle us.

Did some extra digging last night.

Late last night, was it?

Honestly, man, give yourself a break
every now and then.

Yes, Mum.

No, I mean it.

Less work, more sleep.

I need your brain, all ten tons of it,
in full working order.

As I said, I did a little extra digging
last night.

The finding of the snarf by the Reverend
Dr Connor Hawes. Published last year.

He claims to have solved the riddle, and
that's not all. A phone trace on the

anonymous bidder for the annotated snarf
manuscript brought up the main exchange

for Carlisle College.

Brother Vincent.

A stout defense.

And everyone give the lad a round of
applause.

Come.

It's the feds. It's the bus.

We need to speak to you about your
brother.

Leave.

You and your brother weren't close.

No, we weren't. We had nothing in
common.

Not even the hunting of the snark?

You didn't share your brother's passion
for it.

My brother's passion for it bordered on
the deranged.

He conceived the notion that there was
some kind of arithmetical calculation

encoded in the text.

Ludicrous and tedious.

And wrong.

Whereas you'd written that you'd found
the snark.

Oh, that.

Well, I wrote that just to wind him up.

Do you have brothers, either of you?

Did you never give your brother a
Chinese burn or hide his glasses?

No. I always liked my brother.

Used to beat me at Sabutio, my.

Before he died, your brother placed a
bid on a rare manuscript of the snark.

Well, all right, yes, I admit it. I also
placed a bid for the snark.

I had a long -running rivalry with my
brother.

It began when I beat him at chess for
the first time. He couldn't bear it. He

screamed. He wept.

He began to keep score.

He kept score for the next 40 years.

The snark, of course, is the ultimate
puzzle.

For myself, I had no interest in it, but
I couldn't just let Murray win.

Not after a lifetime of it.

Oh, for God's sake, you don't seriously
think I would kill my own brother for

the sake of a puzzle?

Murray disappeared on the night of the
9th, sometime between 6pm and 9 the

following morning.

Where were you that night, Dr Hawes?

The 9th?

Oh, that was the night of my cocktails
and ethics party.

I throw one once a month.

It's the only way I can get the students
in.

They'll only discuss Cyrenaic hedonism
if they can also practice it.

Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we
die.

Aristippus of Cyrene.

What was your name?

Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

Dr. Halls.

The party.

Well, they were at it until the early
hours.

Pretty much all night.

I couldn't get rid of them.

Violation.

Poison.

The dagger and the flame.

These have not wrought their pleasing
patterns upon the banal canvas.

of our pitiful destinies.

It is because the soul, alas, is not
sufficiently bold.

I am bold.

Are they still there?

Yes.

They're talking.

Close the curtains.

Close the curtains.

Thanks.

Forensics. Arid soil. Traces of it all
over the front of Murray's body.

Arid soil?

You're telling me Murray Hall has died
in the desert?

No, he died in Oxford.

There's only one place in Oxford with
arid soil.

The Botanic Gardens.

The arid house, to be precise.

all this take. I don't like closing the
gardens.

Nan's been murdered, Professor Wright.
Well, of course. I'm sorry.

Where were you on the night of the nine?

I was here, at home, at the lodge.

Did you see or hear anything?

No. I find that difficult to believe,
Professor. You are right on the spot.

I was drunk. I drink every night these
days.

Who was that there in the gardens after
hours?

Only the staff have keys, but it's not
difficult to get in.

Students are always climbing over the
railings.

I'm used to hearing people in the
gardens at night. I don't notice it

That's one way in and out.

They're saying he died here, and not in
the woods.

That's so awful.

And weird.

He died here, where I work.

And I'm the one that found him.

I'm going to have to ask you where you
were on the night of the 9th.

Of course.

Yes.

The 9th.

It was a friend's birthday.

I'm afraid I got rather drunk and had to
stay over.

Can I get a name?

Johnny Reeve.

Johnny J -O -H.

He's an old friend. I've known him for
years. Since we were kids.

Friend of my brother's, really, but...
Have I made it clear enough that he's

my boyfriend?

Just making notes right now.

Oh,

um... Yeah.

Have you ever seen this man at the
garden?

I don't think so. I don't recognise him.

OK, well, if anything comes back to you
or you don't

think of anything,

then give me a call.

Any time.

Did you just bow to her?

Yeah, I think I did.

Oh, God, Miss Bloody Marple.

Mrs. Marbury, I sincerely hope you're
not pursuing your inquiries. No, no,

Inspector, I'll be trying to find you if
you didn't let me finish.

You didn't hear the whole story. And I'm
not going to hear it now. A couple of

witnesses have come forward. They're at
the station.

But, Inspector, I... Go home, Mrs.
Marbury. Go home and stay home.

My dad's Spanish.

So, you were in the woods when you saw
two men behaving suspiciously.

What were you doing in the woods?

We were there for romantic reasons. We
spent the night there.

We joked about what they might be up to,
you know, burying a body or something.

And then we...

Read about Murray Hawes. And we know his
brother.

Connor Hawes.

We're both at Carlisle. We had to come
forward.

Could you describe them to us?

Oh, I've got photographic memory.

So you could describe them for the
police artist?

I could draw them myself.

I'm a proper artist.

There's something not right about these
two.

They blink too much.

Come on, let's take a stroll over to
Carlisle College.

I shouldn't really do this.

I never liked a little tyke.

Why is that?

Well, in my opinion, sir, he doesn't
show enough respect for the university.

He never goes to lectures.

Spends all his time in the river messing
around with punts.

Does he now?

Thanks, Miss Rackett.

Vincent Vega, Mia Wally, Pulp Richard.

It's slow for you, that.

I hope he's got a warrant.

Then again, Vincent's room's on second
thoughts. I don't care.

Nobody seems to like Vincent Vega.

Vincent Vega?

Simon Dawkins.

Mia's real name is Isabel Strong.

Changed their name by deed poll.

Why? They're this kind of person at
Oxford.

They've been told their whole lives that
they're one in a million.

Oxbridge material.

Then they get here and find they're one
of a million because everyone here is

just like them.

You've been noticed.

What are these? Do you know?

Must be Wednesday Club stuff.

Looks like it.

Wednesday Club?

You're sure the Wednesday Club exists?

It's this legendary club for geniuses.
Only the most extraordinary need apply.

I've heard stories about it. Everyone's
heard stories about it.

Things that people would do to get in.

I thought they were apocryphal. I
thought it was an open myth. No, no.

It exists.

Club for geniuses?

Club for narcissists?

How it works exactly, I don't know, but
they talk about it all the time, Simon

and Isabel.

They're fixated on getting in.

Maybe messing with the police is their
idea of clever.

Where have you been?

We've been waiting.

We're star witnesses. We're not just
anyone.

Very funny.

Wasting these times is a criminal
offence, Simon, Isabel.

Those aren't our names. Allow me to
escort you off the premises.

So that's it.

You're not going to charge us? The thing
is, you wanted to, so no, we're not

going to charge you. You're not worth
the paperwork.

Inspector. Inspector.

Please don't dismiss me. Just hear me
out.

Give me strength.

All right, let's have it.

There was a big teller at night.

to the Botanic Gardens.

He left himself in Little Quay at 12 .41
a .m. and didn't leave until dawn.

Dr. Alex Faulkner.

And you just happened to be passing?

Were you following Dr. Faulkner?

He's a regular visitor at the Botanic
Gardens. I've seen him there on more

one occasion, always after hours.

All right, we'll look into it, but Mrs.
Marbury, you have to listen to me. You

must leave the detective work to us. You
corrupt one piece of evidence.

This whole case could go down. Do you
understand?

Gold Chain Hall, seat of the Faulkner
family since 1465, winner of Best New

Attraction 2008 and Best Garden 2010 and
11.

And yet he's hanging around the Botanic
Gardens all night.

According to Michelle Marver.

Quite a place for a scientist to live,
isn't it?

It says here that Alex Faulkner comes
from a long line of gentleman

His great -great -grandfather worked
with Lord Pelvin on the discovery of

absolute zero.

We'd like to speak to Alex Faulkner.

Alex.

Whatever for?

I'm Thea Faulkner. I'm his wife.

Where is your husband, Mrs. Horne?

He's in the garden, but I'll take you
through the house. It'll be quicker.

I remember this place from when I was a
kid. It was always locked up.

Yes, Alex was away a lot when he was
younger.

He was a great explorer.

South America, Africa, Indonesia.

He always hated the hall.

He was often left alone here as a child.

All alone in a great house like this,
can you imagine?

You can't tell me what this is about,
Inspector.

We're investigating the murder of this
man.

Murray Hawes.

I don't know him, I'm afraid.

You've never met him?

He hasn't come to the hall?

No, why would he?

He knew your husband.

This one, ma 'am, is it?

Oh, yes, Sam, thank you.

But you will be especially careful with
this one, won't you?

Are you selling your collections?

Yes, Alex did sell a couple to help
finance the work on the gardens. It's

worth it.

Numbers are up.

We're even managing to make money.

This one's been taken for some
restoration work.

It's the house and grounds as they were
in the 16th century.

The heyday of the gardens.

It was my idea to restore them to their
former glory.

Hello, Inspector.

Dr. Faulkner, we have information that
links you with the place where Murray

Hawes died.

Botanic Gardens.

Perhaps you could shed some light on
that for us.

I am, um... What's that awful word?

Involved.

With Helena Wright, the head of the
Gardens.

You're having an affair?

Yeah. I take it your wife doesn't know
about this.

God, no, no, she doesn't know anything.

Where were you on the night of the 9th?

I was here.

Seemed very sure.

Most people need to check with dates.
Oh, I remember.

We had a fight.

Helena and I.

She wanted me to spend the night with
her. I wanted to stay with Thea.

I don't know much about affairs,
personally, but isn't it usually the

round?

My marriage is very difficult at times.

Helena offers me comfort, and I'm weak,
and I take it.

But I love my wife.

Wouldn't you do anything to keep the
truth from her?

Why are you selling your collection?

My collection?

I only sell two pictures for the garden,
not to pay off Murray Hall.

Did he find out about you and Helena?

He needed money to buy his snark
manuscript. What, blackmail? No, Barry

wasn't blackmailing me.

Barry Halls wasn't my problem.

Helena, she is my problem.

What is it? What do you want? I've got
to go.

I found this.

It's Murray's. I don't know what to make
of it.

Yeah, he left it behind. I meant to put
it in the lost and found.

I remember he asked for it. I couldn't
find it.

He was always losing things.

Give it to me and I'll give it to the
police.

Have you finished the orchid house?

Uh, yeah.

Are you sure? Because you wrongly
labelled three specimens last week. I

correct your work. It's not good enough,
Liz. But I double -checked.

And now you're correcting me.

Look, I've got to go out, but I'll be
back in a couple of hours when I expect

find the garden.

15.

You'll find them downstairs.

I'm here now.

Poor old Alex Falkman.

The reluctant Lothario.

Which of these would you trust the
least?

Too close to call.

Michelle Marber, the lady with bags.
Don't tell me.

I've got... Two complaints against her
here, one from Gold Chain Hall, the

from the porter at Carlisle. Apparently
she's been harassing people there on a

daily basis.

I did warn her.

We ran a check.

It turns out she's a serial cop bother.
She's got injunctions against her from

the Met and Edinburgh. God only knows
what damage she's doing to the

investigation. Get it sorted, Robbie.
Now.

It's an incident room.

I like to lie on the floor sometimes,
look at the whole picture.

I think if I can see it all in one
glance, I might understand it better.

But it never quite seems to.

Mrs Marbot, we hear you've been out and
about with your little notebook again.

Check the rest of the house.

Mrs. Marber?

Oh, in fact, yes, I... How can I help
you?

Would you like a cup of tea?

I don't know whether I've got any tea.

We warned you that impersonating a
police officer was a criminal offence.

As is harassment.

You'd be making trouble again.

Sir? Mrs. Marber?

Sir?

What? We've got to come and look at
this.

Oh, for God's sake.

He was found dead in his room.

He was doing his postgrad at Carlisle
College.

The coroner returned death by
misadventure and overdose, but she was

Stevie wouldn't have been so stupid.

It's an overused word these days, but he
was... He

was a genius.

My miraculous boy.

Michelle, why didn't you tell us?

Oh, I've learned.

The surest way to be dismissed.

They give you a little card with a
number on it. A helpline.

Least as Miss Marple, I got a few extra
days.

Got a little bit closer.

I started by going backwards.

Trying to piece together the last days.

Too confusing.

So, I started at the beginning.

I must have visited every day of his
life since he left me.

But I still don't know why he died.

That was his first day at Davy
Institute.

His first day as Alex Faulkner's third
assistant.

All that promise.

All that excitement.

And no idea what was to come.

Well, what happened?

Alex Faulkner.

Never satisfied. Nothing Stevie did was
good enough.

He didn't work hard enough. He wasn't
rigorous.

Stevie had his own way of working.

But Alex Faulkner is such a narrow... He
sacked Stevie.

And then he came to the inquest and he
stood up there in front of me and told

that my son was a drug addict.

My son did not die of an overdose.

My son would never have been so stupid.

So how do you think he died, Michelle?

But you blame Alex Faulkner for his
death.

I don't know what he did. I don't know
how it happened.

You actually think he killed him?

Yes. Yes, I do. With every fibre of my
being.

But why? Why would he kill your son?

Perhaps he found something out.

Something about Alex.

Like what?

I don't know.

I don't know.

All right, I'll put a brew on.

They're rather nice, you two.

Michelle, you've got nothing in.

I can't be bothered to eat.

I just need to sleep.

Isn't it better to get her a bit of
shopping in, will you? I don't know,

stuff, tea bag and milk.

Hello again.

Oh, hi.

You all right?

Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I'm a bit... I'm in a
bit of a rush, actually.

I can't really stop.

No, of course.

Are you sure you're all right?

Yeah. Yeah, I just had a bit of a day.

Watch from hell.

Look, I've got to go. I'll see you
around, OK?

Coroner's report on Stevie's death.

Blood talk, amphetamine and cocaine.

Drug -related paraphernalia in Stevie's
room and all his fellow students were,

well, they testified that he's well
known for his drug use.

Two -day inquest. Open and shut case.

He had a cryptic taste.

Kurt Cobain.

Da Vinci notebooks.

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Science does not know its debt to
imagination.

Love, love, love.

That is the soul of genius.

Mozart.

You have been noticed.

Wednesday Club.

You are under consideration.

You have been chosen.

I'll eat the wheat.

Michelle, is Stevie a member of the
Wednesday Club?

They're very keen on Stevie, of course.

But he wasn't interested.

A club for geniuses.

He knew what he was. He didn't need to
be in a club to prove it.

One of the tutors at Carlisle College.

Wanted him to join. I think he was
involved in some way.

He hounded him, in fact.

But Stevie couldn't have given a damn.

One of the tutors. Which tutor?

Connor Hall.

The Reverend Doctor.

Well, Stevie was an exceptional talent,
but arrogant.

Arrogance is, in my opinion, the
grossest of all stupidities. In

Wednesday Club, in thinking himself too
good for it.

He proved himself unworthy of it. And
yet you hounded him. That's what we're

told. And Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace.

They were down at our station yesterday,
hell -bent on wasting police time.

Oh, were they? Well, yes, that doesn't
surprise me.

Ah, Vincent and Mia are a couple of self
-styled postmodernists.

They're attempting to perpetrate an act
of living postmodernism.

An act of living postmodernism.

They're seeking to challenge the
authority of the establishment.

In this instance, the police.

But I'm afraid they won't get in.
There's no real depth to their thinking.

It's fancy dress intellectualism.

They're simply not interesting enough.

And yet they're under consideration.

They must have done something right.

What are you suggesting?

You placed a bid for the snark
manuscript to goad your brother. You

Stevie Marber. You've got these kids
waiting and hoping.

What I'm beginning to sense from you,
Dr. Hawes, is a taste for manipulating

people. You have a morbid horror of
talent, don't you?

I see you're wearing your brother's
watch.

Second to none.

That's you now, is it? Now that Murray's
dead.

Don't leave Oxford, sir.

We haven't finished with you yet.

Living with... host of monies, and I've
never heard such a load of old cobblers.

That's not what they're up to. That's
not how they were going to get in.

Let's just suppose that Murray was
getting close to a solution to the

Connor has to try and block it.

And then Murray gets his hands on this
manuscript, this manuscript that holds

the key.

Connor can't let his brother win. He'd
rather let his brother die. He's got

these two kids who are desperate to get
into this club, so he can get them to do

anything just on the promise of it.

It's a story.

Yeah, but do people really plot and
scheme and kill her with some daft

Misguided person, mate.

No one rid me of this turbulent priest.

Murder by mistake?

Murder by misinterpretation?

Whichever way you look at it, it's
murder by proxy.

Tell us about the Wednesday Club.

Legendary, isn't it?

It's a club for geniuses, for the
extraordinary.

Maybe it's just a club for people who
want to be extraordinary.

It is an elite for the truly gifted.

Oh, you really want to get into it,
don't you?

Except that you're only under
consideration at the moment, isn't that

Not quite gifted enough, I suppose.

Or maybe there are other ways into it.

Maybe it's not about being gifted. Maybe
it's about being useful.

But the snark is a strange creature and
will not be caught in a commonplace way.

A peculiar creature. The snark is a
peculiar... You know the hunting

of the snark?

Quite a little crew we're building up.
Murray Hawes, Connor Hawes, Vincent

Look, I'm studying it for my
dissipation.

Not for Connor Hawes.

Who, by the way, doesn't think you'll
get into the Wednesday Club?

Simply not interesting enough. Was that
how he put it?

Don't protect him.

If he's manipulated you, made you
promises.

You know, in our incident room, we have
a whiteboard.

And right at this moment, all the arrows
are pointing at you. Then charge us.

If you really had a case.

He'd have charged us already.

I already know the answer to this, but
do they ever find the snark?

Baker finds him.

And then softly and suddenly vanishes
away.

I'll tell you what, I'm getting sick of
nonsense.

Poems or otherwise.

I'm sick of time wasters. I'm sick of
speculating. I want facts. I want

evidence. There must be something we're
missing about Murray.

Yeah, and I want to do a fingertip
search of his house.

You and me, not uniform, not soco, just
us.

You know what we're looking for.

And we will when we see it.

There's something about this house,
isn't there?

That's in your soul, isn't it?

Any luck?

Not as yet.

Lab H.

Lab H?

I've got a clue.

I've forgotten what clues look like.

Yeah, hi. I'm trying to locate a
particular laboratory.

Lab H.

How do you number your lab?

With numbers. Right, thanks.

No lab H to the Department of
Pharmacology.

No lab H to the Department of Chemistry.

No lab H to the Department of Clinical
Medicine, Chemistry, Biochemistry or

Pharmacology. It's looking more and more
like a clue by the minute.

A clue we can't solve.

The impossible quest.

I can feel myself disappearing.

Are you all right?

My clothes smell of dry rot.

Murray's house.

All these lonely people pouring their
lives into puzzles that can't be solved.

Ignore me.

I've got a touch of existential flu.

What? I'm going to say it just this
once.

For your sake, you need a partner,
James.

You need someone in your life.

Let's call it a day.

I want to check on Michelle.

I'm just going to look in, make sure
she's okay.

You must remember to lock your door.

And please, stop leaving lighted
thingies all over the place.

Like a walking public safety warning
woman. I know, I know.

I've got too much to think about.

Have you got some news for me?

Oh, no.

No, on second thoughts, don't tell me.

What do you mean?

Stevie dies a hundred times a day in my
head.

I see it.

His last breath.

It plays on a loop.

And then I fall asleep and I dream.

I dream that I can't get through the
door.

If I could get through the door, I could
save him.

If I...

knew how he died, at least I could stop
imagining it.

But then if I knew, would I not just
imagine that? And what if it's worse?

If you knew, you could think less about
his death and more about his life.

This investigation, I'm not finding
anything out.

All I'm doing, really, is retracing his
death.

I go to a coffee bar and I sit in a
chair and I think, maybe look at the

he sat in.

And I can almost feel his presence.

But as soon as I feel it, it's gone.

It slips away from me like mist under
the sun.

Softly and suddenly vanishes away.

My wife.

I think about her every day.

But about it, about the accident, it's
only every other day now.

I think about her as she was.

Her laugh, her smile.

I miss her.

I talk to her all the time around the
house. Don't tell my sergeant.

Relive it.

Not anymore.

Well, anyway, not as often.

How did you get there?

I don't know how to get there.

I think it was when I accepted it.

When I stopped fighting it.

Couldn't tell you.

What have you got not wanting to know? I
do.

I do want to know.

Please don't keep anything from me.

Michelle, we're not investigating
Stevie.

We're investigating Murray.

Chances are I won't have anything to
tell you.

Yes. Yes, of course.

You must do your job.

Is my hair all right?

You look perfect.

Ready?

Um... Hello,

my little jailbirds.

But where am I... Where is the Wednesday
Club?

What did you expect?

Men in hoods and high hats, pomp and
ceremony, a gathering of bishops and

high wizards.

This is it.

It's just you.

Just me.

Just.

That's not a very pretty word. You
decide on a whim who's in. It's

It's all completely meaningless.

Yes, my dear, I'm afraid you're nothing
special.

You're just another precocious child
mistaken for something more.

Or you think you're special.

Oh, my God, you don't even touch the
sides.

My brother, my brother, the prodigy, the
beloved of God.

Look upon his genius and weep.

He has turned death itself into a
marvel. His own death, the puzzle of

puzzles. And the answer?

He's me.

He has made me the answer.

But I'm not going to be the answer.

I'm not going to lose this one.

I'm not going to be the one who takes
the blame.

For once, it's going to be the spoilt
brat who gets it. Don't talk to her like

that.

No one talks to me like that.

You can go down without a fight.

If I'm not mistaken, this little box is
the Wednesday Club.

It's the Wizard of Oz, isn't it? Just a
little man behind a green curtain.

It's looking to me like this.

Wednesday club was for sorry exercise
and mass bullying.

Sir, you have been summoned, V and M.

Oh, no.

We had more than one caller last night.

Michelle. We're going to talk to her.

With respect, sir, I think it should be
me.

You're too close.

All right, yeah.

We found this this morning in Connor
Hall's rooms.

Yes. I went to see him last night. I
went to ask him for his help.

You've given up on me.

And he refused you. He refused to help.

What?

Connor's dead, Michelle.

Alex Faulkner killed him.

Connor was going to go and confront him.

Alex Faulkner killed my boy, and Alex
Faulkner killed Mario's.

And you don't believe me! Alex Faulkner
had no motive.

No reason to kill your son, no reason to
kill Murray, and no reason to kill

Connor. None that you know of. Michelle,
enough. You have more reason to kill,

to frame Alex Faulkner.

I've lived with death for the past six
years.

I'm sick of it.

I'm ill with it.

Do you really think I'd want more?

Where's Stevie's jumper?

E and M.

Vincent and Mia?

We don't want to be called that anymore.

This is you, though.

We found it in Connor Hall's rooms.

He summoned you last night?

Why? What did he want?

To humiliate us.

To hurt us.

To make us take the blame.

And now Connor Hall's is dead.

What's Lab H?

It's one of the labs DB used.

I've never been able to find it.

It looks like something, but it's really
a dead end.

No, it's something.

Michelle, we're going to need to analyze
that blood.

You don't need to take it.

I can tell you it's Connor's blood.

He'd been in a fight.

He was bleeding and he bled on Stevie's
top.

I tried to wash it up.

I'll return it to you. I promise.

How did you get those bruises?

Connor, we had a fight.

Two against one.

But he won.

No, he didn't.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Right.

Post -mortem's in.

So now we'll see, won't we?

It's not Connor's blood.

She said he'd been in a fight. Did you
get the forensics for me? You would give

me the knife as a present.

Sorry.

Not just any old case, this one?

No.

Go on, Laura.

Right.

Cause of death, single blow to the back
of the skull. There are some bruises.

So there must have been a fight.

Vincent and Mayor are covered with
bruises.

Then the body fell into the river.

fell in.

So he was killed beside the river.

Yes, there's fresh mud from the
riverbank compacted into the treads of

shoes. Then the body drifted some way
downstream by the look of it.

Lots of wear and tear after death and
silt in the pockets and folds of his

clothes.

Connor was found there.

Can I speak to you?

Go on.

I found a notebook.

Here, in one of the tool stacks.

It was Murray's.

I didn't know what to make of it. He was
always losing things.

And Helena explained it away.

Said she'd give it to you.

I suppose I knew in my bones something
was wrong.

Now this.

I'm sorry.

Where's Helena now?

She's in the lodge. She hasn't got up
yet.

I'm not a dishonest person.

I didn't know what to do.

Helena, she's... She's fragile.

She hurt herself.

I just didn't know what to do.

Missing pieces of the puzzle are sort of
our docking trade.

Half the time, you can't even see what's
right in front of us.

Where were you last night?

I was here. I was in bed.

I was alone.

You were stood up.

Yes.

By Alex Faulkner.

Have you spoken to him?

Do you know where he was last night? No.

Oh, come on, Helena.

Look, I don't know where he was. I don't
know anything.

Not good enough. Look, I have two
murders linked to these guns.

I have Murray Hall's notebook hidden
here.

And you want me to believe that you knew
nothing at all about any of it?

All right, let's see if a trip down the
station gets you talking.

What are these?

These are the seed pods off the laburnum
tree.

I have to pick them up before the kids
do.

They're full of cytosine. It's highly
toxic.

Laburnum anagroidis.

Every single bit of this tree is
poisonous.

But it's glorious when it's in bloom.

The flowers are bright yellow.

Beautiful.

I think they're laburnum trees in the
picture.

That gold chain hall. There's this hall
and then the long line of golden trees.

I'm sure they're laburnums.

Well, the hall was probably named after
them.

Well, when the tree was first introduced
to Britain, it was known as the golden

chain tree because the flowers hang in
golden chains.

So an unnamed for gold chain hall would
be... Laburnum Hall?

Lab H.

Not Lab H. Laburnum Hall.

The Burnham Hall. The Burnham Hall is
another name for Gold Chain Hall. Lab H

Gold Chain Hall.

Check upstairs.

You, Professor, are going to show me
what this is all about.

Alex?

You told us you'd sold one or two
paintings. It looks like you've flogged

We have sold a number of pieces, yes.

And how much have you raised so far from
the sales?

Somewhere in the region of two million
pounds, I believe.

You're not spending all that in the
garden, are you?

What are you using this for, Dr.
Faulkner? Alex, don't speak to him.

word. I'll get a lawyer.

No, no, Helena. There's no point.

The jig is up. The jig is up. No, Alex.

It'll be all right. Please, don't let
them take you away. Don't let them take

you away from me. Please, please, Alex.

What kind of work are you doing here?

Signature of all things by Jacob Burma.
This is the doctrine of signatures, the

healing qualities of plants.

Where did these come from, Dr. Falconer?

The laburnum tree.

Laburnum seeds.

Full of cytosine.

Highly toxic. Murray Hawes' tox report.

Caffeine, alcohol, nicotine.

Michelle's house. What do you always
notice about Michelle's house? Slightly

obvious. She's a smoker.

Always smells of smoke.

Murray Hawes' house smells of dry rot.

Not cigarettes. Murray Hawes was not a
smoker.

So why was there nicotine in his blood
tox?

Laura, I need you to do a check on the
blood tox of Murray Hawes.

The nicotine reading.

Yeah, can you do it now?

It's just, I think the lab might have
made a mistake.

I can tell you.

It is. It's cytosine. Yeah, I'll hear it
from my pathologist. Thank you.

Yeah, I'm still here.

You're right. There is a mistake.

A tiny molecular difference. It's not
nicotine.

It's cytosine.

But it's not its usual state.

It's been engineered.

Thanks, Laura.

Engineered cytosine, Dr. Faulkner.

He's trying to find the cure.

A cure for cancer.

No, could it?

Or is it a Nobel Prize you're after,
Doctor?

No, it's nothing like that.

It's for me.

He's trying to find a cure for me.

Skin cancer.

He can't accept that there's no hope.

I thought I was the only one taking it.

She didn't know.

Thea didn't know about Murray.

Oh, God, Alex.

What have you done?

What have you done?

Cytosine is a vasoconstrictor.

There's been some good work done on
vasoconstriction as a means of shrinking

tumours. And laburnum flowers are
yellow.

It's a yellow plant, full of flavonoids
that nature's fancied. Yellow. Figures.

On the plant's purpose.

I know it sounds mad. It's crazy, I
know.

I'm crazed.

I can't lose you.

I won't be able to live.

You'll have me.

Dr. Faulkner.

Murray Hawes.

He needed cash.

And I needed a guinea pig.

We agreed three doses.

A hundred thousand per dose.

He was going to come here, but I took
him to the Botanic Gardens. I didn't

Thea asking questions. I didn't want to
lie to her.

And you, Professor Wright, what part did
you play?

None. None. She... No, I acted. At all
times, I acted alone.

So you gave Murray the third dose that
the Arid had?

First two doses went well.

I got overconfident.

I raised the third dose.

He began fitting almost immediately.

He hit his head as he fell.

So you took the body out of the gardens,
you buried it in the woods?

You came back to the gardens and cleared
up the arid house, while the professor,

your lover, who lived in the gardens,
saw absolutely nothing.

That's right.

She knew nothing about it.

I never meant to hurt him.

I was trying to save my wife.

You didn't mean to kill Murray, but you
killed Connor.

He came to see you, didn't he?

He came to confront you.

So what happened?

He came to the gardens. He wanted
answers.

He said he was the prime suspect. He
said he wouldn't leave until he found

the truth. He was angry, desperate, he
was violent.

And so you killed him.

You killed Connor.

And you chucked his body into the river
like some piece of old junk.

Yes.

Did you want to touch it?

No, I didn't.

I didn't kill Connor.

No, look at me.

You know I didn't kill Connor, you know
me.

You know I didn't. I couldn't have... He
couldn't have done any

of it without me.

He couldn't have managed any of it on
his own.

He needed me. You needed me for once.

You needed me more than I needed you.

I killed Connor.

One blow was all it took. One blow.

See?

He doesn't love me.

Stevie Marber. He's another person you
didn't mean to kill.

I found out about your experiment.

Stevie? No.

No. He was helping me.

He was working with me.

It was the worst day of my life when
Stevie died.

He would have got there.

You see, he was that brilliant.

If I'd got him working, got him clean,
he would have made the breakthrough.

He would have succeeded.

Or I have failed.

You have not.

I thought you'd leave him to me.

I was waiting for you to leave him with
me.

Helena, it was a comfort to me.

I don't want him to be alone.

I never saw this possibility.

that I'd be the one left behind.

You won't be able to bear it if he can't
be with me, will you?

You won't be able to bear it.

I read the snark last night.

Didn't understand a word of it.

I've come to think that that might be
the point.

Aye.

Apparently a girl once wrote to Lewis
Carroll.

Asked him, why don't you just explain
the snark?

He replied, are you able to explain
things you can't yourself understand?

What do I say to her?

How do I tell her the truth?

Tell her the kindness.

You're good at that.