Original subtitles

(LAUGHING)

Woah!

(FOOTSTEPS)

Happy Birthday, Joe.

It's to protect the wearer against witchcraft and evil charms.

Thought it might bring a smile to your face.

Obviously not.

It's very thoughtful, Ed. Thank you.

That's it, Eddie! Look, look, look!

It's two hands but it's the only way... Argh!

Sorry, sir.

(CHATTER AND LAUGHTER)

(SHOUTING AND SCREAMING)

(CHEERING)

(SINGING)

(GIGGLING) or (LAUGHING)

You're pulling my ear out.

Come on, Sabine, I'm busting.

You go then. I'm gonna cut through.

-My feet are killing me. -Text me when you get in, yeah?

Yeah.

(CHEERING)

(WOMAN LAUGHING)

(GRILL SIZZLING)

(PANTING)

(PANTING CONTINUES)

(MOBILE RINGS)

Where is your daddy now, little girl?

(MACHINE POWERING OFF)

(DOOR SLAMS)

Who's there?

(SCREAMS)

-PHOTOGRAPHER: The clear one's here. -MAN: Good. Cover this area.

It is definitely human?

I'm afraid so. Male.

Probably chloroform.

Could it be surgical?

Doubtful. I've done this procedure myself hundreds of times.

When you know what you're doing it's just like peeling a satsuma.

But this was done in haste and with a certain amount of force.

The facial arteries have spurted,

which tells us that he was alive

when the flaying took place.

Jesus!

-Time of death? -Between 8 and 24 hours.

-I'd normally do a rectal temperature but... -No rectum.

Mmm. That's all there is to say, really.

Unless he's on the database, he's gonna be a bugger to ID.

What about the tattoos? They look pretty specific.

They're not recent. They're at least a decade old.

Different font? It doesn't even make sense.

It's not part of the exhibition.

Someone's put it there for a reason.

-What do you think it means? -Get it checked for prints.

Well, someone's forgotten their pleases and thank-you's.

-He's under a lot of pressure. Thanks. -(MOBILE RINGS)

Hello?

(LOW LEVEL CHATTER)

(DOOR CLOSING)

Excuse me? What's going on?

The gallery's closed.

Why? What's happening?

It's a police matter.

There's always stuff going on around here.

They just found a body in Tower Hamlet Cemetery

with his face and his back skinned off.

-We might have a match. -Let's go.

The body was found this morning by a lady walking her dog.

It's possible the killer took it with him.

It could be a trophy.

The victim's face was found here at the Temple Row Gallery.

The artist, Sebastian Marlowe, specialises in what he calls

"modern ecorche". Ecorche is French for flayed.

It basically means depicting human anatomy with the skin removed.

-Are we bringing him in? -He's in Europe, apparently.

Our number one priority is to identify the victim.

He had a set of very distinctive tattoos which should make him memorable.

Tattoo parlours, body piercing?

Oh, come on! One of you must have?

The only holes in my body are the ones God gave me.

We all know which one you talk out of.

-I'll take it. -Good.

Get the SOCOs to give you a full set of photos.

Sarge, did we get the victim's prints at all?

I was just looking at this.

The Flaying of Marsyas by Titian.

Marsyas was a satyr, half man, half goat.

How does this help us?

Well, your body was found in an art gallery, was it not?

The killer could be recreating scenes from all the Grand Masters.

A number of Chinese emperors of the Ming Dynasty

liked to cut the flesh from their enemies' faces.

In fact Lingchi, the so-called death of 1,000 cuts,

Depends. The ancient Assyrians would flay their enemies alive

and then nail the skin to the city walls.

A warning to others not to step out of line.

Oh, look, the mould's got in here.

Now, this is ridiculous.

Have you got anything I can take away with me? Anything I can study?

(SCOFFS)

We're talking ancient history here, Joe.

I'm not going to find it in the Metropolitan Police Archive.

I can't go back upstairs with paintings by Titian

and stories from Ancient Assyria.

That's not what I pay you for.

You don't pay me, actually.

Joe, one more thing. The files you asked me to look at

from our rogue MI6 operative, Mr Wingfield.

It seems there was definitely method in his madness.

All the historical connections we made between past and present killings,

the Ripper, the Krays, the Radcliffe Highway Murders.

He'd already made them.

He was tracking all our cases?

Yes, or he was one step ahead of us.

I haven't deciphered the whole map yet but a pattern is emerging.

And you are slap bang in the middle of it.

So, come on then. Shag, marry, kill?

Urgh, kill them all.

Yeah, well I won't buy my hat just yet, eh?

So, do you reckon Kent's got any secret tattoos then?

Definitely. He's probably got a picture of the boss on his chest.

And a little one of the Sarge on his buttock.

-(BOTH LAUGHING) -I heard that!

What's that?

The Flaying of Marsyas. It's a Titian.

I can't even identify the bloody victim!

All right, we work with what we've got.

Something'll shake down, it always does.

Meanwhile, I've got Sebastian Marlowe's assistant upstairs.

Oh, good. What's her name?

Abigail Perkins. She's in room six.

I'll order some tea and biccies and

I'll see you up there in a minute.

Miles.

I'm not being funny but I think I should speak to her alone.

-Well, what makes you... -We've got no leads. This is important.

Fine.

Get on with your work!

And if I balls this up... Spud!

Oh, no. I'm not looking to have any work done.

I'm looking for information.

What sort of information?

I'm trying to identify this man.

That's a mask, isn't it? Have you tried the joke shop, love?

No, it's a man's face. The flesh has been cut from his body.

Oh, for goodness sake.

He has distinct tats on his hands and his chest.

Do you recognise any of these?

-Vory v Zakone. -Sorry?

(DOOR OPENS)

Miss Perkins, I'm DI Chandler, thanks for coming in.

Please take a seat.

Mr Marlowe is in Spain at the moment. Is that correct?

Yes. He's curating a new show at the Guggenheim.

This isn't very pleasant, I'm afraid but...

Do you recognise this face at all?

No.

Somebody went to great lengths to place this in Mr Marlowe's exhibition.

Why do you think that might be?

I don't know.

Maybe it was a fan?

Mr Marlowe's fans can get quite obsessive.

I believe he uses real cadavers in his exhibitions?

Mmm. Sometimes.

Who flays them?

-He does. -With your help?

No.

I'm too squeamish.

Some people wouldn't call it art.

Some people only look skin deep.

I'll have Mr Marlowe's publicist contact you.

Miss Perkins, this is a murder inquiry.

It isn't an interview for a Sunday supplement magazine.

Mr Marlowe doesn't do interviews.

He'd rather let his art speak for itself.

Nevertheless, I will need to talk to him.

I need to establish if there is a link between the victim and his exhibition.

But you don't know who the victim is, do you, Inspector?

Not at the moment, no.

Then I'm afraid I can't help you. And nor can Mr Marlowe.

In Russian prison, if you do not have tattoos, you do not exist.

So, can you tell me what any of these mean?

See the church? Three towers means three times in jail.

And here, the spider in the cobweb, that means for drugs.

-Is this a mafia thing? -It's Vory v Zakone.

-Can you write that down? -Sure.

In translation it means "thieves in law."

The Vors used to rule Russian prisons

but it was long time ago in Soviet times.

The first rule of the Vors is to not cooperate with any authorities.

I would not be a good Vor.

Thank you, you've been very helpful.

Katje.

Where in Russia are you from?

I'm not from Russia, I'm from Poland.

I read all that on the internet.

Here's my number.

Oh, I can just find out the rest online myself.

Thank you.

I'd give it a moment if I were you, sir.

That Japanese food didn't really agree with me.

Mansell, listen, I'd like you to do some digging on Sebastian Marlowe for me.

There's hardly any information on him in the public domain. Will you find out why?

-I think Sgt Miles is... -And check out his assistant too, Abigail Perkins.

She's either covering for him or hiding something.

-I want to know which. -Yes, sir.

(PIPES GROAN DEEPLY)

Gently, gently.

That's it.

Oh, hi. Hi. We're just giving our poor man his face back.

I wanted to have a closer look at his finger tattoos.

Okay, be my guest. I did send you some photos through.

Yeah, well, I just needed to check them in the flesh.

It's like having your CV printed on your body.

Ah, you see. That's an eight. It looks like a six in your photos.

1968, gives me his year of birth.

I did estimate mid-40's. But then people aren't like trees,

you can't just cut them in half and count the rings...

Yeah, you're welcome.

Was that you?

What?

You don't scare me.

-What you doing? -Waiting for a phone call from Russia.

-You ID'd the vic yet? -Maybe.

What are you doing here?

Just had a cheeky fish supper with Erica.

She sends her love, by the way. What a girl.

(PHONE RINGS)

DC Mansell.

Yeah. Who is this?

What are you doing? That could've been for me.

I keep getting these prank calls.

This is an incident room. in case you've forgotten.

People phone up with vital information.

Calm down, grandma!

How can you be so uptight when your twin sister's so...

So what?

Relaxed.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hello.

Yeah, one second.

Yeah, I've got it. Thank you for your help.

Bingo.

Thanks to Kent, we finally have a name for our victim.

Nikolay Baldaev, born 13th of May 1968,

"Tats"!

Three times, most recently for knifing a rival gang member

but he was paroled from Kresty prison two years ago.

Why'd they let him go?

Well, this goat, it symbolises a snitch or an informant.

It was probably applied forcibly against his will.

My guess is that he cooperated with the authorities

to secure an early release. But I'm still waiting for the file.

Good work. The Russians are known to have been stepping up

their organised crime activities in London and there have been several

suspected hits carried out in the past five years.

What makes you think it's a hit?

It was a clean job, well organised.

The victim's prints were skinned off to avoid identification.

If they were so keen to avoid identification,

then why go to the trouble of displaying his face at the gallery?

It don't make sense.

The Vors take their tattoos extremely seriously.

If you have a tattoo in prison that you haven't earned

then it gets cut off with a razor.

It does make sense, Sarge.

It also conforms with the historical precedent of flaying as punishment.

It's our best line of enquiry. Mansell, my office.

All right, let's work up a list of Baldaev's known associates.

see if there's any link to the Russian extortion gangs.

-Yes, Skip. -Oi!

Where are you going?

Well, it's my report.

Then bring it to me. I'm still your sergeant, aren't I?

Yes, Skip.

Whatever you find comes to my desk first.

Let's remember our chain of command.

Sorry, Skip.

Where are we on Marlowe?

Well, apparently he employs a team of assistants to make the artwork for him.

He just does the concepts, he doesn't get his hands dirty.

In fact, there's rumours that Marlowe is a um...

What do you call it? A pseudonym.

Keeps his identity to himself 'cause he doesn't like dealing with the press.

Like the Wizard of Oz. Look into it and keep me informed.

I should say, sir, a lot of the information came from Sgt Miles.

What? Miles?

He's got some really good contacts in the art world.

He investigated the Momart fire ten years ago.

He became really good friends with some of the artists.

A lot of them have got studios in Whitechapel.

You weren't to know, sir.

-Everything all right? -Yeah, fine.

It's just this stupid hand's still giving me jip.

-Do you want to get it looked at? -No, it's just a scratch.

Well, a bit of fresh air will do you good, then.

'Cause proper policing happens out on the street.

Eyeball to eyeball with the public but you know that, don't you?

-Of course. -Good girl. Hey, you would tell me...

I'm all right, Ray, honestly. Don't go all touchy-feely on me.

You're freaking me out. I'll see you later.

(APPROACHING FOOTSTEPS)

(FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE APPROACHING)

JOSEPH: Miles?

I'd like you to go back to the gallery and interview Abigail Perkins.

-I think you might get more out of her than I did. -All right.

-Listen, I'm sorry if I... -Oh, forget it.

It does us good to have a little barney every now and again.

It stops us turning into crime-solving robots. No offence.

None taken.

(CAR ALARM RINGING)

(DOOR BLEEPS)

Erm, do you recognise this man?

No, I don't know him.

Are you sure? A lot of the other traders have already ID'd him

and they say he comes round here regularly.

No.

(KNIVES SLICING)

Well, could you show it to your co-workers or family members please.

It's very important.

Sabina!

Yes, papa?

(SPEAKS BENGALI)

Hi. Do you recognise this man?

No, sorry. Don't recognise him.

No? All right. Well,

if you do think of anything can you call me on this number?

What happened to him? Is he dead?

I can't tell you that, love. But if you do know anything

you ought to come forward, okay?

Thank you for your time.

(ARGUING)

Is that a real hand?

Yes. It's been plastinated and preserved.

Not that squeamish, then?

You get used to it.

It's a birthmark. Port wine stain.

Nothing I can do about it.

Does it hurt?

Depends what you mean by hurt?

It's not painful.

How long have you worked with Marlowe?

Are you interrogating me?

No, no. Just a friendly chat.

Five years. He gets me.

A lot of people don't.

Strange thing.

No-one in the art world had heard of Sebastian Marlowe five years ago.

Nobody had heard of Vincent Van Gogh until after he died.

Sometimes that's just how it works out.

True. We're not all appreciated in our own lifetime.

-(MOBILE RINGS) -Excuse me.

I've been looking all over for you. Where's Buchan?

I'm not sure. I thought he might have turned up something useful by now.

That'll be the day. Anyway, good news.

SOCOs took a print from that card you found at the gallery.

You know, the one with the different font?

-Did we get a match? -Eventually.

A mechanic works out in Dalston.

He reported his car stolen four years ago,

(INDISTINCT TALKING)

Ed?

Meg! What are you doing here?

Just on my rounds.

-Let me go and see what I can find. -Oh, thanks, Oliver.

Oh, you checking on your book sales?

You on the bestsellers list yet?

No, no, I'm just doing a little cribbing.

Some things can't be found in the archive.

For instance, have you ever been to the Sistine Chapel in Rome?

(SCOFFS) Hardly. A wet weekend in Abersoch was our last holiday

and that was three years ago.

My husband's not much of a traveller.

You should try, it's absolutely breathtaking. Or so I've been told.

Hmm, nice.

It's believed Michelangelo painted this as a self-portrait.

The artist as a tortured genius.

Oh, a bit like yourself then?

(CHUCKLES) No. I just want to help.

Joe took a huge risk bringing me in.

He faced ridicule, I know that but he believed in me.

I just wish I could repay that trust.

Oh, you are doing. Who else is going to come up with all this Da Vinci Code stuff? Not me.

The only Michelangelo I know is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

Thank you.

I'll see you later.

Erm, thank you.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(CONSTRUCTION SOUNDS)

Sidney Walden?

Yeah?

DI Chandler and this is DS Miles, Whitechapel Police.

We're trying to locate... Is there somewhere we can talk?

Yeah.

Go on, treat yourself.

It's all right, Amy's my wife. What can I do for you, gents?

We're trying to locate Harry Barnett. Does he still work here?

Harry? No, not for going on three years now.

Did he leave a forwarding address?

Yeah, I have it here somewhere.

What's he supposed to have done?

We're not at liberty to say. Why did he leave?

Can't remember now.

They don't have to give a reason as long as they don't just disappear.

Here we go.

Any money worries? Women?

What, me or him?

No, he was the quiet type, Harry.

Liked a bit of a booze every now and then but then again who doesn't?

When his wife left him, he moved back in with his old dear.

He always was a bit of a mummy's boy.

Do you want me to call for an ARV?

No, we don't want to alarm anyone.

What, round here? No one will bat an eyelid.

JOSEPH: It's up here.

(DOG BARKING)

-Oh, Jesus! -Shh, quiet!

I'd say it's a bit late for that.

(GROANS) Ugh.

It's coming from in there.

(GROANING)

(BOTH GRUNTING)

(FLIES BUZZING)

He's still warm!

It's the electric blanket.

BOTH: Argh!

(COUGH AND SPLUTTER)

-Peppermint tea. -Thank you.

Settle your stomach.

Well, the neighbour upstairs,

he thought he smelt something off but he didn't report it.

He's subletting for a friend, didn't want any aggro.

And the flat next door is empty. Repossession.

Well, that's pretty biblical.

-Yeah, sorry about that. -What are the basic facts?

Time of death is going to be difficult

'cause he's been lying on an electric blanket,

so putrefaction sets in a lot more quickly.

Yeah, we noticed.

I'll spare you the gory details but right now

I'd estimate eight to ten days.

-Same MO as Baldaev? -It looks like it.

Skin's been removed from the face, the torso, the fingertips.

but please, God, it is.

Yeah, we don't need two of these maniacs on the loose, do we?

So, he flayed Harry Barnett, took his skin

and then planted one of his fingerprints at the second crime scene.

Maybe he was frustrated that we took so long to find Barnett

and wanted to lead us here?

He must want the crimes acknowledged.

The publicity, the headlines.

But what does he want with their skins?

So, you kissed him?

No, you muppet. He kissed me.

-(LAUGHS) -On the lips?

Oh, don't! Why is this always happening to me?

You show a man a bit of maternal affection

and he's all over you like a cheap suit.

You know why, he wants a bit of the old... (SUCKS TIP OF THUMB)

-Riley boob. -Come on! Break it up, loads to do.

Right, Harry Barnett was killed at least a week ago

by the same method as Nikolay Baldaev.

Now, given that Barnett seems to have no affiliation with Russian gangs,

we're no longer prioritising that line of enquiry.

But we are still looking for links between Nikolay Baldaev and Harry Barnett.

Why did Barnett leave his job?

Who arranged the release of Baldaev from prison and why?

The killer's highly intelligent and organised.

We need to find something he's missed.

What's with the weird writing?

This was found on Barnett's bathroom mirror.

It's the same sequence of letters that we found at the gallery.

So, it obviously has some kind of meaning to the killer.

I'll have a crack at it. I like a riddle.

A Jimmy Riddle.

Right, you've all got a job to do.

And if you haven't, come and see me and I'll give you one.

Stop that!

Amy?

Ames?

Miles, the flick knife we found at the cemetery,

it definitely belonged to Baldaev?

Well, it had his palm prints on it.

And it wasn't the murder weapon?

Llewellyn ruled it out. Why?

I want to see all the evidence that we collected from the cemetery.

-What, all of it? -Yeah.

You heard him!

Amy?

Oh, sorry darling.

It's just that I had a bit of a crap day, that's all.

You remember Harry?

Well, someone murdered him.

Cut his face off like Red Indians.

Poor sod.

Hello, Riley's phone.

Hello, Riley's phone.

(MOUTHS) Who is it?

It's just a crank call.

That was the police at work. Asking questions.

I didn't tell 'em nothing. What's done is done.

It's gonna be all right, Amy.

Ames?

It's gonna be all right.

(STRUGGLING)

He could win the Turner Prize with this. (CHUCKLES)

So, the knife was found?

Close to the body. About two metres.

So, maybe he saw his attacker coming and then armed himself?

What was nearest to the knife?

Erm, test tube, seven metres. Used condom, 15 metres.

It's a different DNA.

Any drug paraphernalia? Bent spoons?

Erm...beer cans. Sweet wrapper.

What about the shoe?

-That was 120 metres away. -And the other one?

The other one was 70 metres away.

Apart from the mud they look new.

There's barely a scratch on them.

The distance between them suggests she could have been

-running away from someone. -Or something.

There's blood on the inside.

It must have been rubbing her heel.

Get it down to the lab. See if we can get a DNA sample.

We might have a witness.

It's just like Cinderella!

Sarge, we've got a missing person alert.

The workshop owner, Sid Walden. His wife came home late,

said his car and his keys were there but he wasn't.

Come on, let's go.

Clear this mess up will you, son.

(MUFFLED SHOUTING)

"Feelings for you.

"Any...

Erm, what are you doing?

Doing a bit of match-making.

-That's Riley's email. -Yeah, I know.

I'm sending a message to Buchan.

She is asking him out on a date tomorrow night.

What? You can't do that! All internal emails are logged.

If I'd wanted someone to piss all over the idea,

I'd have asked you first. It's just a joke, right?

You shouldn't toy with someone's emotions like that.

People have feelings you know.

(COMPUTER DINGS)

Right, according to Harry Barnett's phone records,

the last person to call him this afternoon was Sid Walden.

Tipping him off, I suppose.

Well, that makes Walden less of a suspect.

Why would he call Barnett if he knew he was already dead?

-Good point. -POLICE RADIO: All units.

Suspected abduction at the corner of Malcolm Place.

Female suspect spotted dragging a body into a disused factory.

That's just the other side of the station.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING)

(MUFFLED SCREAMING CONTINUES)

The lady says she saw someone dragging a body from the van into the factory.

We can't wait.

It's Braintree Street, corner of Malcolm Close.

-(MUFFLED SCREAMS) -(MUSIC CONTINUES)

(MUFFLED SCREAM)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(MUFFLED SCREAM)

(GROANING AND STRUGGLING)

(JANGLING)

(CHAINSAW STOPS)

Put the weapon down!

It's not a weapon.

Boss.

What? Well, where's Marlowe?

You're looking at him.

She is Sebastian Marlowe, aren't you?

Aren't you?

You?

Book her. For wasting police time.

Don't worry. I'll talk him down.

I'm sorry. Can you keep my name out of the papers?

I'll try.

But maybe it's time for you to step out from Marlowe's shadow.

Show the world who Abigail Perkins is.

You're a bright girl.

Don't hide your light.

(PANTING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(SCREAMING)