Original subtitles

James called me today, tried to stop the interview,

told me you were in immediate danger.

Do I know you?

Helena Moss?

Weren't you friends with, er...?

- Joanne Kemper? - Yeah.

I got her talking about Ryan Oakley.

I got her to write Dominic Kennedy.

You didn't use your real name, did you?

Aren't they lovely?

It really is a game.

Our turn, her turn! Our turn, her turn!

Ms Betts?

How is he, your husband?

- He's away at the moment on a case. - Where?

- Knight's Path. - What did you say?

It's a two-word phrase from a small portion of a document

that I'm pretty sure was encoded by James.

- Mandy Ziegler! - Chief's daughter.

DCI Carter's fiance.

- What? - Sometimes it feels like you're not telling me everything.

I think it's time we met in person.

PATRONS CHATTER

COUGHING

- Jonathan? - Jonathan, you all right, mate.

Mate?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

She had a kind face.

Not sure where she got that.

Mandy shared a lot online,

but it's all pretty normal stuff.

He looks different.

That's what pre-loss looks like.

John, there's no way we could've got this wrong, is there?

Could it be a coincidence

that James wrote down the name of the road

Chief Constable Ziegler's daughter died on in code -

and Joanne Kemper, our chief suspect for a whole string of murders,

visibly reacted when she heard it?

- Yes. - Very, very, very unlikely.

Yes, but it doesn't fit the pattern.

Mandy has no connection to any of this.

I mean, what are we saying?

That her father helped cover up her death,

like he did all the others?

He may well have done, yes.

Russell is not going to take this well.

That's beyond putting it mildly.

- How can I tell him? - Well, you can't.

Not yet.

I mean, look, he's not on to this thread.

He still thinks Joanne Kemper is just some witness

we're trying to get intel from.

Well, I've slightly alluded

to our thinking she's a baddie.

How slightly?

I-I pretty much said

we think she's responsible for several murders.

What on earth did you do that for?

The conversation just sort of naturally flowed that way,

and I trust him.

Oh. Oh, right.

Well, that's lovely that you get to off-load onto someone.

Who do you think I get to do that with?

- Don't say you! - But...

Don't say Henry.

- Probably nobody. - Probably nobody!

PHONE RINGS

- That might not be him. - It is obviously going to be him.

It is, isn't it?

- Hello? - John, I need you at a scene.

It's on Hazelton Street. It's called Pazuru sushi.

- ASAP. - Er, OK, yes, I can probably...

John, you need to be here within 20 minutes

before the super gets here.

You can do it in 15, but you need to leave now.

Tell Lucy she can run red lights.

I most certainly will not tell Lucy that,

but your urgency is noted.

You need to take me to a sushi bar.

What will you most certainly not tell me?

I'm not telling you.

Did he give me permission to run red lights?

- There's no such thing as permission to run... - Yes!

There's no such thing as permission to run red lights!

That last one was definitely not amber!

What are you doing?

We're going to see DCI Carter.

John!

Actually, on second thoughts, goodbye.

- Er, just... - What are you doing?

Yeah, fine.

Hello, ma'am.

W-What are you doing here?

I'm heading up a murder investigation

because I've had to remove my senior detective from it.

DCI Carter called me and...

Well, you obviously weren't quick enough,

because now I'm here and he's not.

What do you know, John?

Know, ma'am?

Do you know why DCI Carter was here during the murder

and who he was with?

You will have... No, you do have my personal guarantee

- of protection. - All right, yeah.

That's nice. And what about everyone else around me

who keeps dropping down dead and vanishing

every time I open my mouth?

Nobody knows you're here.

OK, nobody's going to disappear, and nobody is going to...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

OK. Clearly, you know nothing.

That's mildly reassuring, at least.

Don't ever play poker, John, will you?

Matt Neville? My brother's old partner?

Where is he?

He's at the station in an interview room.

He's now a witness to a murder, as is DCI Carter...

...who called YOU before me.

I'm sure that wasn't favouritism, ma'am.

Although that's probably not what you were...

Ahem!

We have a crime scene consultant.

Let's get him straight up to speed, please.

- Is that a conveyor belt?! - Don't touch anything!

But it's a conveyor belt!

DC Sullivan.

Yeah. Er, our victim's name was Jonathan McQuade.

He was here on a working lunch with the rest of his team.

Postgrad data analyst.

University sponsored.

They advise companies on trends.

Apparently this was a regular thing -

working lunch in here every single Friday.

It's all right for some, innit?

We have a very nice canteen, Constable.

Yes, we do.

DCI Carter was present.

Corner table. Him and a buddy of his.

A DI Matt Neville.

Never heard of him.

There's no reason you would have.

Well, that explains that, then.

Right. Er, midway through lunch, Jonathan gets up and collapses.

Everyone rushes over.

One of the chefs calls an ambulance.

Our DCI announced himself,

tried to get everyone to stop crowding.

He still had a pulse. Faint.

I doubt he or anyone else thought it was anything other than

sudden heart attack or an allergic reaction.

He died in the ambulance.

We were alerted on arrival he had visual signs

of Aconitine poisoning.

- Blue lips. - It's since been confirmed.

He ingested monkshood.

In extract form.

Deadly and fast-acting.

So he ingested it here, then?

Yeah, our DCI was waiting on a green tea, apparently.

He and DI Neville hadn't eaten.

But the rest of them, I mean...

So the conveyor belt was involved?

And it was on, was it?

And all of this stuff kept going round and round, did it?

And all of the suspects were sitting here, were they?

Please don't touch anything.

Why would I touch anything?

I don't want to get poison on me.

Although these have all been eaten from,

and nobody else is dead.

So we're looking for one poisoned dish,

preceded and succeeded by multiple non-poisoned ones,

with only the killer knowing which is which.

Fair enough. But how did they know that the intended victim

would take it?

I don't know. I've only been here two minutes.

But I guarantee you that DCI Carter and DI whatever-it-was

were not connected or involved in any way.

OK. I don't think it occurred to any of us that they were.

Well, then, you have excellent instincts.

Because whoever the killer was,

they had to have been sitting around this conveyor belt.

Your tie...

LUCY MUTTERS

Oh...

No.

What blasts from the past are you looking for today, then?

Er, a fatal car crash that took place on Knight's Path

on the 2nd of February, 2024.

I told you, we don't have anything beyond 2014.

- May the 6th... - Oh, here it is.

Huh.

Must've been because the bins were full that week.

You do know the actual story of the crash

will be in the next day's paper, though?

Goddamn it!

Why don't you just tell me what this is all about?

I mean, you do realise I've pretty much figured it out

from all the stuff you bang on about whenever you descend upon me.

I doubt that you have.

OK, how's this?

It sounds like you have a detective husband

who, for some reason or another, you have misplaced.

Your brother-in-law is trying to help you find him.

And unless I'm completely off the mark,

I'm pretty certain you seem to think that our local MP

once drowned someone in a hot tub

and then tried to run someone over with a car?

Arranged a car accident.

Mm.

Well, that would've been my second guess.

You don't seem very shocked.

I started on the Sunday Sport.

I'm not making this up, you know?

Well, why don't you just stop coming here

and go and prove it and get yourself a lucrative book deal?

I don't want a lucrative book deal.

I want my husband back.

He is really missing?

You can't tell anybody.

Who am I going to tell? My mum?

Lucy, whatever you say to me...

...is off the record as long as you say it's off the record.

- Off the record? - Mm-hm.

The golden rule of journalism.

I got John to pretend to be James for two weeks.

But then the whole ruse fell apart when I was framed

for a murder I didn't commit by the criminal partner

of an IT consultant who, independently,

was blackmailing everybody else involved.

I mean, it's pretty much all blown over now,

apart from the whole serial killer MP thing.

Oh, the relief...

...of finally telling somebody all that

who isn't a Taylor!

Could I write a book about it?

No! No, not in the bloody middle of it.

No.

PHONE RINGS

- Unless it's important... - Matt Neville's here.

- What? - Well, not "here" here.

I'm standing in the doorway of a restaurant,

about to interview some data analysts

with the Chief Superintendent.

But here in Cambridge,

drinking green tea with DCI Carter.

Russell doesn't even know Matt Neville.

- Who's Matt Neville? - Sh.

- Who's that? - You sh, too. Sorry.

I-I'm just trying to work out what's going on.

- Where are they? - At the station.

Their choice of clandestine meeting place

inadvertently turned out to be a crime scene.

And now they're both recorded witnesses

and their meeting isn't quite so clandestine any more.

The Super's ever so cross.

Oh, now here come the white people to take all the food.

What?

I'd better go.

None of his colleagues actually know he's died yet.

I bet one of them does.

We should tell them collectively.

Then perhaps whoever it is will be so bad at faking shock

we can wrap the whole thing up there and then.

Mm.

He died on the way to the hospital,

and we are treating it as suspicious.

I can't believe it.

You must be joking.

Wait, so someone did this?

- It makes no sense. - No.

That didn't help.

Can anyone here think of a reason

why someone might want to target Jonathan McQuade?

No, he's the most junior member of the team.

- Only graduated a year ago. - Wait, sorry.

Who said he was targeted?

According to you, any one of us could have taken that plate.

Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh, no, I don't mean...

If you'd been poisoned, you'd be dead.

That much we do know.

Why couldn't it have been one of the chefs?

We're not ruling anything out yet.

But don't you all come here every single Friday?

Unless you always cause some sort of ruckus,

it would be a strange move for the chefs to poison one of you.

Not a big fan of motives in general, but most murders do have one.

- Well, none of us do. - I bet you do.

I mean, not necessarily you.

We're being hunted.

Hunted?!

Say that again, Ms Bako.

Big company in Washington, DC.

Election analysis firm.

They've been looking into us, head hunting.

We don't actually know that.

Yes, we do.

Well, we do. All of us do.

Whom exactly were they looking into?

We don't know.

You get wind of them sniffing about, start picking up the signs.

Look.

This department's a pretty established launching pad.

A big American firm snatches up at least one postgrad a year.

And was Jonathan McQuade a strong candidate for this year?

I see.

Who was sitting next to him?

I was.

Er, me, too.

If it wasn't for the possibility of a double bluff,

that would actually count in your favour.

Do you always take the same seats?

Er, no. Just whatever order we come in, really.

Presumably you always eat the same things, though?

Of course we don't. Who does that?

You don't?

You sit somewhere different every time

and you eat different things?

Well, that's my only working theory out the window.

Don't suppose you've got one, have you?

LUCY WHISTLES

LUCY GASPS

LIFT BEEPS

Come on!

- - Doors closing.

Lucy, how did you...?

How did you get up here?

Nobody stopped me. You need to have a word.

This is supposed to be a police station.

How long have you been in touch with Matt Neville?

Not long.

RUSSELL SIGHS OK, fine.

I cashed in a lot of favours to track him down.

Why?

Come on. We're all doing the same thing here,

for the same reason.

Oh, I'm sorry!

I'm sorry!

I didn't realise that your husband had gone missing as well!

We're all working the same case here,

whatever our reasons, Lucy.

I've known Matt for nearly ten years.

I was at his wedding.

I was basically his bridesmaid.

When I tracked him down, he slammed the door in my face.

So I would love to know what you said to him

that made him want to come down here

and have a cosy mid-morning cup of tea with you.

I offered him £10,000.

You...? You what?

- Hi, thank you. - Thank you very much.

He's been fleeing around with his wife and kid,

not accessing any accounts or using any bank cards.

I figured he could really do with £10,000.

- Have you got £10,000?! - Yes, thank you.

Savings I didn't get to spend on a life

I never got to live, OK?

Happy?

Look, I came here to move on.

But instead, I get dragged into some big game already in play.

So I'm sorry, but I do not need a missing husband

to want answers.

- Well, did you get any? - No, I didn't even get my tea.

So where is he?

RUSSELL SIGHS

He's being held downstairs in an interview room,

waiting for the Super,

being kept away from me on the grounds

of not contaminating statements.

OK, let me talk to him. I can talk to him.

I don't have a statement to contaminate.

I mean, he's not under arrest, OK?

Carol! She's not going to let you talk to him!

She's probably never going to let you do anything ever again,

probably.

Please!

Hi, could you tell DI Matt Neville

that I've got somebody that wants to...?

Gone?

How long ago?

OK, thank you. Thank you, thank you.

- He doesn't even have a car! - Yes, but maybe he can run fast.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me!

Are there any other exits?

No, we work in a giant steel deathtrap.

- Yes, there are loads. - I'll find him.

Do you think I could borrow your sports car?

No, I'm not that desperate.

OK, let's go. Let's go. You can sneak out back.

DCI Carter, I very much would like a word with you,

- if you don't mind? - Of course, ma'am.

Can I have one as well?

No, you can do your job.

Let's go.

Any time today.

What a handy set of suspect photos.

What do they do, these people? Analyse data?

I don't even know what that means.

Who doesn't analyse data?

Well, that's one of hundreds that they designed.

Generalised personality questionnaires

tailored for specific company needs.

That one's for a phone company,

to help them predict upgrade uptake.

- By asking people if they own a pet? - I don't know how it works.

I presume it does. Who is actually leading this one now?

- I think it's me, isn't it? - Obviously not you.

Can't be, can it?

Er...

- M-Maybe. - I need to see those pictures you took

of all the food.

You went around taking photos of all the food

before the men in white came.

This just looks like most people's Instagram.

- What are you expecting to find? - I don't know.

There's bound to be something.

Why? Why is that bound to be something?

Because I've never come across a perfect murder yet.

Wait, what was that?

M-Make it go left again.

And now make it go all close.

Zoom.

There! See?

A napkin with writing on it.

Napkins don't usually have writing on them.

Is this stuff all in evidence?

Can you go and get me this napkin?

No, I can't, and you're not in charge.

You can't be.

You don't even have a rank.

But it might help solve the murder.

- A napkin? - People write important things on napkins.

Pac-Man was created on a napkin.

Bye!

I'll see if they've got it, yeah.

SULLIVAN LAUGHS

There you are, you slippery little man.

Matt!

- Get in the car. - No.

What are you doing? What are you getting out for...?

I will headbutt you, Matt!

- Lucy, just... - I will headbutt you!

Get in the car!

Normal.

You know nobody wins in a headbutt, don't you?

- - Hmm. Someone trying to work out how to split the bill?

With single digits?

It's a high-end restaurant, not a tuck shop.

I'm going to need you to show this to the suspects.

Sorry, what are you ordering me to do now?

Show it to the suspects!

If they all deny ownership, then it's obviously important.

Then you could ring me.

Toxicology just confirmed it.

The poison was in a single bottle of soy sauce.

Where's DCI Carter?

He witnessed a murder this morning.

He's gone home on advisement.

We need to do one-on-ones now and start piecing together

the interpersonal relationships of this lot.

Some will have suspicions of their own.

So one poisoned item sent round a conveyor belt

where, somehow, against the odds, it reached its target.

Do you have enough to be getting on with?

I've got this napkin.

Good.

Well, there's no point staying here.

You might as well head off and get your brain working.

I think I'd rather...

DCI Carter can probably give you a lift.

Oh, right. Yes.

- Wait, he's going home, too? - Yeah.

Will you send me a picture of that, please?

And don't forget to ring me if none of them claim it!

Or if one of them does, hmm.

Bye.

You've got a lot of explaining to do.

- Ring Lucy, ask if she's found Matt. - I thought you found Matt?

Will you just ring her, please, John?

I don't have her number.

PHONE RINGS

LUCY GROANS

- Hello? - I'm with DSI Carter, who hasn't explained

anything at all yet and wants to know if you've found Matt -

even though, personally, I think he did.

Er, well, I drove round and round

and he was nowhere in the area,

so he must have got an Uber.

She drove round and round,

couldn't find him anywhere.

He must have got a... What was that?

An Uber.

He didn't get an Uber, John.

He's the most paranoid man I've ever met in my life.

He didn't get an Uber. He's the most paranoid...

Yes, I heard. Look, I don't know what to say to you, Russell.

It's hardly my fault, is it?

- She doesn't know what to say. - Yeah, I heard.

He seems to concur.

Right. Well, anyway, I've got to go

because I'm picking Henry up from school.

Henry's still going to school?

How long do you think you've been gone for?

You're just all living normal lives now, are you?

Hardly.

MATT SIGHS

- Hi, Uncle Matt. - All right?

Er, I think you'd better get in the back.

What's he doing here?

It's just here.

Yes, I know it's here, John.

Huh! Nobody claimed the napkin.

I did tell him to ring me, though.

The Chief Super is recommending a transfer.

Again.

Her solution to everything, it seems.

I told her, "Get Chief Constable Ziegler to sign it

"in front of me and I'll leave tomorrow."

Drive by his house every night. There's no sign of him.

Call him in the day. Goes straight to voicemail.

DI Neville will get in touch again.

He spooked, but he needs the money.

And tell Lucy I'm sorry.

If it's any consolation,

she's quite annoyed with me for telling you

our Kemper theory.

Actually, that is some consolation. Thank you.

Lucy, this is insane.

You won't believe the day I've had.

Well, you'll believe some of it

because you were there, apparently.

Chief Superintendent Shaw is at her wits' end.

Can't say I blame her.

None of us are behaving that well.

She's trying to force Russell out.

I don't think she wants to.

It's just a whole house of cards thing now.

He's refusing, though.

She can hardly make him, can she?

Hello, Henry.

Chief Constable Ziegler remains completely persona non grata.

Russell's still looking for him.

And absolutely nobody knows where DI Matt Neville has gone.

Oh, there he is.

Er, dinner's ready.

NEVILLE CHEWS LOUDLY

Look,

I'd like to tell you everything.

But the thing is,

I really need that money that the other guy's offering me.

You do know who that other guy is, don't you?

He's... He was Mandy Ziegler's fiance.

Is she related to the Chief Constable or something?

Because he's in this up to his neck.

Er, yes. She's his daughter.

She died in a car accident.

I mean, it's obviously connected.

- You didn't know that? - Brilliant, another one dead.

Are there any more, eh? Are we into, like, double figures yet or what?

Hmm?

And you're just all sat here like the Waltons every night?

Well, they do know we're on to them.

They don't seem to have done anything yet.

Are you completely off your trolley?

I don't know where my husband is, Matt.

- What is it that you know? - Oh...

We get called to this murder.

It looked like it was a bullet

straight to the back of the head.

It was later recorded as a bludgeoning.

I knew the name.

Sinclair.

I actually used to read his blogs.

What, on purpose?

They're complete nonsense!

Then why did somebody shoot him in the back of the head?

Hmm? Rewrite our report, frame a burglar

and then kill that burglar inside a locked cell.

Got to open your mind a bit more.

Anyway, James, he started putting together

the same connections that Sinclair did.

The Super ordered us to drop it.

I don't know how she found out what he was doing.

- Holly Pinder. - What? The miserable IT woman?

Mm. Well, she's dead now.

Right. Are there any more dead people

that I don't know about?

You don't actually seem to know anything.

I know what happened next.

All right, yeah. See you in ten.

Get out of the car.

Get out of the car!

Now, listen to me!

I'll keep this simple.

You are transferring your job,

you are moving your family

and you are never contacting DCI Taylor again.

All right.

I'm not threatening you, Neville.

I'm warning you.

Seems like you're threatening me.

- - Matt? Who is it?

Matt, what's happening?

Matt?!

Matt?

Do you know what scared me the most that night?

Was how terrified HE looked.

And he was the one who almost put my head through a car window.

And you left the next day?

Yeah, course I left the next day.

That Kemper family is connected.

And I mean seriously connected.

They have been for generations. You can't investigate them.

You can't even stick a conspiracy theory online about them

without getting a bullet in the head -

and it never showing up on an official report.

So do you think the conspiracy theory might be true?

Maybe.

Sorry, just to be clear,

this would be the one about the family

committing ritual sacrifices every decade

to maintain their power in society, would it?

That's a theory.

What kind of detective are you?

Er, a bloody good one, actually!

Your brother couldn't solve anything without me.

James left us. All of us.

At least you took your family with you.

Oh, right, yeah. They're having a lovely time, aren't they?

Hey? Not knowing where they're going to be sleeping next week.

Meanwhile, you seem to be getting rat-arsed on Shiraz.

Sorry, what are you implying, Matt?

What, that he did us a favour?

Well, none of you seem to be very dead yet,

as far as I can see.

LUCY STRAINS

- Thank you for your help. - Yeah.

I don't really want to stay here, Lucy.

Yes, well, tough luck, Matt.

Currently a named witness to a crime.

You can't just leg it again.

No, I can't do that, Henry, so you'll have to do it.

I'm going to go and get the blankets.

This is weird, isn't it?

You stood there, looking all like James.

And your great big evidence board.

What's that?

It's a portion of a coded note James had written

that was found on Holly Pinder's computer.

Why, do you recognise it?

Nah.

He wrote loads of stuff like that.

He used to have a whole notebook full of it.

Yes, we have it. It's useless.

Did you print that thing out?

Yeah. On the printer.

And that?

This is a clue from today's murder.

Clue?

Yes, a clue.

Murders have clues.

Everyone denies writing it,

so it obviously belonged to the killer.

Try and solve it, then, will you?

Because I don't fancy staying here two nights.

The, er... The sums look like predictability odds.

The sort you get in a betting shop.

They do look like predictability odds!

Well, what are they trying to predict?

Who takes the poisoned shrimp?

You can't predict that from a random selection

on a rotating conveyor belt.

Sure you can.

They are all data analysts.

Basically employed to predict the future.

There you go, then.

What about the letters on the second sheet?

What do they mean, do you think?

Well, it's not a code.

It's probably some form of shorthand, I think.

Probably related to the sums.

Must be related to the sums.

Crib notes?

You said they'd been going there weeks?

Months!

Is it possible?

If you spend enough time studying people,

gathering data, making notes,

could you eventually have enough information

to be able to accurately predict the order in which

people might take food items on a particular given Friday?

Of course it is.

It's probably how they did it.

It probably is how they did it.

You're welcome.

What do you mean?

I'm the one who just worked it all out.

Yeah. Yeah, sure you did.

They really are very similar, aren't they?

And how was your evening?

Oh, you know, same old, same old.

John Taylor. Over here.

We had some one-on-ones yesterday.

They seemed slightly more forthcoming

with their suspicions when no-one else was there.

Yeah, to put it mildly.

Do you have any suspicions?

Ahem! Luca's been pretty cagey.

Then again, Luca always is.

I'd definitely look into Luca.

Of course, I have my suspicions.

- Abby. - Milo.

Ruthless, cold as ice. Wouldn't put anything past her.

God's gift to no-one.

In Italian, we would call him...

I actually went to Venice last year. It was wonderful.

Has anyone been acting strange recently?

- Farida. - Abby.

She's such a try-hard. COLE LAUGHS

I don't know if anyone was close to him.

Er, I know who wasn't. Milo.

You want to look at Farida.

Under the radar, but nobody could be that nice.

And, Luca, we get it - you're continental.

LUCA SPEAKS ITALIAN

Could you...? Could you spell that, please?

- C-O... Oh, him? - Yes.

Dexter's a hot mess.

You want my opinion? My honest opinion?

- Please. - I wouldn't put it past a single one of them.

With friends like these, who needs murderers?

They're just doing what comes naturally to them,

tipping the odds in their favour.

Same reason Jonathan McQuade had to die.

But how did they do it, John?

With a lot of data.

I'm talking months' worth on every single person

sitting around that conveyor belt.

As impossible as it sounds,

the killer had calculated precisely who would do what and when,

right down to selecting the only fatal item.

Well, we don't really have months to generate data.

Yeah.

Especially since they themselves were using a cheat sheet.

Everything is in there somewhere, somehow.

Maybe even the doodles mean something.

Pictorial mnemonics are provenly more effective

than text-based ones.

Did any of them own a dog?

We didn't think to ask.

Hmm.

OK, so I'm going to need you to go over to their offices,

get four more copies of this,

and have each one of them complete it.

Who are you talking to?

Whoever wants to do it.

Why don't you do it?

Why don't you do it, DC Cole?

- I'll do it. - I didn't say I wouldn't do it.

Why don't you both do it?

Be quicker.

The killer does have an eight-month head start.

You seem a lot more assertive these days, John.

Sorry.

Well, this is awkward.

Suck it up.

We're both very disappointed in you, Russell.

DI Neville won't be back.

I know him. I'm surprised you managed to coax him out

in the first place.

What did you do, offer him money?

His name's going to be all over those Pinder files,

you know that.

And now it'll be linked with yours in a crime report as well.

Well, I'm here to be dismissed

whenever Chief Constable Ziegler would like me to be dismissed.

Ahem. Er, do you know where the Chief is, ma'am?

Just out of interest.

I think you both know I don't.

We really are going to share a cell one day, aren't we?

Seems unlikely.

I'd imagine we'd probably be sent to a men's prison, wouldn't we?

Yeah.

- Probably, John. - Mm.

What are you doing?

Blue van parked up ten minutes ago.

Fella hasn't got out of it yet.

It's British Gas, Matt. PHONE RINGS

Oh, they don't know where I am.

Just tell your wife you're alive.

Wives do tend to want to hear this sort of thing.

Hello?

Yeah, yeah, fine.

I'm just in a sort of cheap, little dirty motel.

I don't know.

Because I haven't got the money yet, have I?

Look, no, listen, I'll definitely get it.

Look, everything's going to be fine, all right?

Stop worrying. Yeah.

All right. Love you, too.

Bye.

I really need that £10,000.

But you don't have any information to sell.

You've told us everything.

You'd better bloody have told us everything.

I have told you everything.

But I have got a little thumb drive he gave me.

Badgers live in mixed sex groups...

GARETH SIGHS ...of between four and eight animals.

Hiya.

Have you got a key?

No, God. Why? Can I have one?

No, you can't.

I just need you to...

Sorry, just one second.

You can come in. Come in. Just come in.

Er, I just need you to babysit this guy for a bit.

You need me to what?

Yeah, he doesn't like to be home alone,

and I need to pop to the station.

Where are we, exactly?

Oh, East Anglia Advertise.

I'm a journalist now. This is my boss.

We like to call him The Skipper.

Nobody's ever called me that.

Don't worry, he doesn't know anything.

- Are you Matt Neville? - A little bit.

He knows a little bit.

Er, you're going to be fine. You'll be fine, too.

- LUCY LAUGHS - Right, I won't be long. Play nice.

All right?

Nobody refused?

Nobody looked nervous?

No.

What are you looking for, exactly?

Anything in here that tallies with anything on there.

What, the...?

The doodles and the numbers?

Well, and the letters.

I mean, like this one.

Under exercise, she's put "fortnightly step classes".

Those are her initials. Look what's right next to them.

- Steps. - Ah, and numbers.

See? Dates.

14 days apart, including yesterday.

She had a step class yesterday.

Is that really going to affect what she has to eat later?

Ah, and here, look. OK, this is another one.

This is Dexter Hassan.

So DH.

Question about carbon footprints.

"How often do you drive to work?"

According to the questionnaire,

he car shares, alternating every three days.

So, ah, I bet that tick means it was his day to drive.

Is that really going to affect what he eats later?

No, not on its own, but Mr Taylor was right.

The killer had been studying them, analysing them,

making secret notes on everything about them.

And it's all up there.

Yes, it is.

You're really good at this.

Oh.

- Thank you. - Well...

Bet I can find some, too.

No, I like the way yours matches with your top.

Mine's... Mine doesn't really. It's for the East Anglia.

So I see it was manned this time.

Did you have a little word?

Listen, do you know? I think we should exchange numbers.

This is getting faintly ridiculous.

What are you doing here, Lucy?

So I know where Matt Neville is.

I can even give you the address and a guarantee that he'll be there.

Right, great. Go on, then.

Well, you might have to pop to the bank first.

I don't have to pop anywhere.

I've already got the money in cash in an envelope.

You've already withdrawn it?!

OK, God, so you really were always going to pay him?

OK. £10,000.

Russell, what is it that you really know?

Know?

Suspect?

Off the record.

Look, has he got something for us or not?

Shall I just start talking?

I usually just start talking.

Hello again.

Can I just say I'm not remotely surprised

that this little academic pool of yours

gets headhunted by big American firms.

You're all extremely clever.

In fact, one of you would probably be the ideal recruit -

if you weren't also a psychopath.

Eight months you've all been coming here together, every Friday.

Do you know how many days that is?

- - 34.

34. Yes, that's right.

I suppose this really is your sort of thing, isn't it?

That's 34 lunches

and 34 mornings leading up to the 34 lunches.

That's a lot of potential intel for a would-be poisoner

who wants to eliminate the competition.

You've all been taking part in an ongoing

observational experiment for the better part of a year.

Everything you did every single Friday,

from the moment you came in

to the moment you went home,

has been observed and recorded by our killer -

including what you chose for your lunch

and the order in which you chose it.

Allowing them only to add poison to an item

that Jonathan was definitely going to eat.

Then, like all good data analysts,

it was just a case of looking for the patterns.

How do the decisions and actions of the subject pre-meal

affect their choices mid-meal?

Was the vending machine stocked?

Did Luca's call go well?

Was the lift working that day?

Did Dexter waste more money on scratchcards?

Seems impossible, doesn't it?

It does.

But it isn't, is it?

No, even the four of you who didn't kill him know that, don't you?

There's very little about human behaviour

that can't be predicted.

As long as you're good enough.

I don't usually flatter murderers,

but one of you was exceptional.

- Which one? - Well, we can find out.

And ironically, given how much data there is flying around,

we can do so with a primary school level sum.

Detective Constable Cole?

Oh, just pop it on there.

BUTTON CLICKS

CONVEYOR BELT WHIRS Oh.

Use the conveyor belt.

Ahem.

Thanks.

BUTTON CLICKS

It makes complete sense that the killer

would make their notes on a napkin -

something that doesn't look out of place.

They could remove it and bring it back again

and ultimately dispose of it at the scene,

assuming that all their intricate calculations

would be ignored as a few sums and doodles.

But see this one here?

This is last-minute.

Done quickly at the table

to work out the only factor

they couldn't find a way to predict.

Where everyone would be sitting.

Our killer needed to add the poison to the dish

before it reached the victim,

and without anyone else selecting it first.

All this data, all this analysis,

and at the end of the day,

it all came down to a few tiny little last minute numbers.

How many other people were likely to select the salmon?

What order were they sitting in around the table?

And how many seats away from the killer was the victim?

What's the answer to that equation there?

- Four. - Four.

One, two, three, four.

I knew you looked flattered!

You should be, too. You're obviously very good at your job.

Do you mind giving us a sample of your handwriting, Mr Gesalan?

I've got a sample of his handwriting.

- Yeah, I do, too. - Me, too.

Looks like the four non-murderers are as keen

to get you out of the headhunting sweepstake

as you were Jonathan.

More flattery.

I want to talk to an attorney.

Those are American. You won't be needing one of those.

You're not going there any more.

Up you get.

How was that? Was that OK?

You did say you wanted it done quickly.

DI Neville's name will still be on that report.

We could do without that.

Yeah, we can't just take it off.

That would just create another puzzle that someone

further down the line will want to solve.

You know what people are like.

PHONE BEEPS Oh...

Can I go home now, please?

- Yeah. - Thanks, ma'am.

RADIO CHATTER

- Well? - "Well" what?

Did you solve it?

Oh, yes, I did! It was Milo Gesalan.

Although, you won't know who that is, so, er...

What are you doing here exactly?

Why am I being asked to meet Matt Neville

at the East Anglia Advertiser?

Beats me.

I thought he was at our house.

HE SCOFFS

Really?

- OK. - Can you give me a lift?

Yeah, of course.

Ooh, fishy crisps!

Do you think I'd like these?

I think... they're Scottish.

What?

- What's that got to do...? - Oh, God!

Ludwig, hello.

I'm Gareth Fisher. I'm a massive fan.

Massive... fan!

Lucy?

No, no, don't... don't worry, he's cool.

- Yep, cool. - Er, this is very much a safe space.

Hmm... No, it isn't.

Have you, er, got the money?

What have you got for me?

I knew it! I knew it! I knew you had it!

I did try to pat him down.

What is it?

Look, I have seen your brother.

I've seen James since he went missing.

Just one time.

We weren't meant to make contact,

but a few weeks ago, he just called out the blue,

said he wanted to meet for some reason.

Don't know what changed.

He said this was our insurance policy if anything ever happened.

And that if anything ever happened to him...

...I should give it to you.

Me?

Sorry, if it's intended for me, why are we paying £10,000 for it?

Ten grand?!

I'm not sure who this "we" is.

So I can buy a caravan! All right?

A static one in Cornwall.

It's an absolute steal.

And I've got me eye on a little security job at the park there.

Happy days.

Look, I love James - and you -

but, seriously, none of you are anywhere near as smart as you like

to think you are, or as terrified as you should be.

The more you keep digging...

...more people are going to die.

Just... Just give me the thing, will you?

What's on it?

Don't know, it's all code, innit? So...

But, if it helps, you do already have some of it

on your board at home.

What?

Lucy, listen, you and Henry,

you should really consider running away and hiding, yeah?

You, try and open your mind a bit.

Be a bit less snippy.

Nice to meet you, yeah?

Thanks for the money.

And I am... really sorry.

"Snippy"?!

That is the same one.

The whole thing.

If it was for you, how did Holly get it?

How would I know? What does it say?

Give me a minute.

Why is there an old newspaper here dated February 3rd 2024?

Oh, Russell, I think you know why.

Look, someone who spends £10,000 on an answer

really, really wants an answer.

What is it that you know?

Suspect?

I've read the official accident report hundreds of times.

Never questioned it.

Then I meet you, get dragged into...

...this.

Want to know what it's about.

And do you know how many questionable death reports

I've read since? All with that same tone, same feel, that-that same...

Erm... Not-quite-rightness?

At least three.

A statistically significant number of coincidences.

I know you can read that, assuming you haven't already.

- I honestly haven't. - Read it now.

Russell, do you know how Mandy's connected to all this?

No. She can't have been. What does it say?

Y-Your fiancee was on her way to meet James.

What?

Mandy didn't know James. What are you talking about?

She did know him.

She was supposed to meet him that night.

He... He waited for her...

Why? What... What were they doing?

She had "unspecified evidence".

Of what?

Of her father's involvement in all of this.

Oh, Russell...

DOOR OPENS Russell!

DOOR CLOSES

Come on!

Let's go!

- Whose house is this? - Who do you think?!

He's not there! You said so yourself!

Ziegler! Open up!

BANGING CONTINUES Stop him, will you?!

How am I supposed to stop him?!

- Ziegler! - S-Stop it!

BANGING CONTINUES

Stop!

We can't be here.

Did I have a very detailed dream about Chief Constable Ziegler

being murdered and us finding the body?

How could you do it? Cover up your own daughter's death?

The Commissioner leapt on a 24-hour delay on announcing this,

and that is absolutely all the time I can buy.

I hope you have a very good reason for this.

Chief Constable Ziegler was murdered last night.

Taylor, of course you'd be here.

He's dead.

I think I might need to speak to a solicitor.

Joanne Kemper is innocent and when she's released,

we'll start looking into more viable suspects.

Is that a threat?!

John, what if James did it?

You can't think...

You do think it's possible, John.

You've already considered it.