Original subtitles

- Lovely.

That's good.

Good, thank you, that's fine.

That's very nice.

Good.

(upbeat music)

Good, down a bit now, down.

(upbeat music)

Yes, Harry Dougan will like that.

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

Very nice.

Run your hands across your body.

Run them down.

(upbeat music)

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

- This is some of the best-selling material we've ever had.

- The joys and pleasures and agonies

and ecstasies of sexual attraction

has for years been the main topic

of poets, philosophers, painters.

- Not to mention pornographers, eh?

Listen, I wanna watch my horse run this afternoon.

Can you handle this?

(traffic passing)

(horse whinnying)

- 30,000 pounds for a horse, that's a lot of money.

- Yes, Harry, but look at him.

He's a winner.

What are you gonna call him?

- Well, Playbird Magazine paid for him.

Let's call him Mr. Playbird.

(upbeat music)

♪ Playbird ♪

♪ Men love to dream like you, Playbird ♪

♪ Make love unseen to you, stay, bird ♪

♪ Safe in their dreams of the night bird ♪

♪ Exposing their own vanity ♪

♪ See how they're playing the right bird ♪

♪ But men have never dreamed equally ♪

♪ Danger lurks in the dreamers of day ♪

♪ Needing to act out the play ♪

♪ Eyes open wide, he can say ♪

♪ Playbird ♪

♪ One touch of you and it's so sure ♪

♪ One daily cry that I've not heard ♪

♪ Longing to die with you ♪

♪ Danger lurks in the dreamers of day ♪

♪ Needing to act out the play ♪

♪ Eyes open wide, he can say ♪

♪ Playbird ♪

♪ One touch of you and it's so sure ♪

♪ One daily cry I've not heard ♪

♪ Longing to die with you ♪

♪ Longing to die ♪

(birds chirping)

(door closing)

(horn honking)

(doorbell ringing)

- Wait, I must turn my kettle off.

(dramatic music)

(screaming)

(dramatic music)

(screaming)

(choking)

(dramatic music)

- Good morning, Doctor.

- Morning, Love.

- Morning, all.

- Morning, Jack.

(muttering)

- Morgan, what's the time?

- Well, sir, we know she arrived home

about half-past nine last night.

- What's the time now?

- Oh, five to 12, sir.

- Damn thing.

- Take a look at this, sir.

- Smashing girl.

- She was pretty.

- Hey, Morgan.

- [Harry] Yes, sir.

- Check out this photographer, Terry Day.

- Right.

- [Announcer] Racing this afternoon comes from Newbury,

where we're to be bringing you-

(phone ringing)

- Computer room.

(keys striking)

- He's a photographer, works for Playbird mostly.

Yeah, that's right.

No, no I think he's London-based.

Yeah, well look, see if CRO have

got something on him, will you?

Yeah, that's right.

Right, bye.

(phone dialling)

- Right, Sergeant, file that.

- Yes, sir.

- Jerry? Jack Holbourne here.

Tenner on the nose, Old Pretender, 3:30.

Right.

(phone hanging up)

Wound up?

- Strangled.

Not raped.

About 15 or 16 hours, but I think there's one thing

you ought to see, Jack, come over here.

It's this number two on the forehead, in lipstick.

- Why would he have done that?

- I dread to think so.

- This is what she looked like when she was breathing.

- One of Harry Dougan's, isn't it?

Right, we'll start with him.

You can stick him in your computer if you like,

but I get we get more out of him face to face.

- Right.

- Listen, sweetheart, I couldn't give a shit

about the solid-state circuitry.

I've got 5,000 of them in the warehouse,

and they don't work.

I have no intention of paying your invoice.

Well I suggest you send a van round for them tomorrow

and take them away,

before I give them to the Salvation Army.

You too, sweetheart, sideways.

- Good day, my name's Holbourne.

- Do you have an appointment?

- Chief Superintendent Holbourne.

I'd like to see Mr. Harry Dougan.

- Yes, of course.

Mr. Dougan?

Chief Superintendent Holbourne to see you.

Yes, right away.

(door closing)

- Mr. Harry Dougan?

- Superintendent Um?

- Holbourne.

- Oh I'm sorry, yes.

- Inspector Morgan.

- Hi. - How do you do?

- Please, sit down.

Do you mind if I watch the television?

My horse is about to run.

- No, that's fine with me.

- [Announcer] That'll be Old Pretender,

who ran pretty well last time out.

- Doreen Hamilton, tell me about her.

- Never heard of her before.

- [Announcer] And cantering down now is a newcomer,

Mr. Playbird, now owned by Mr. Harry-

- She was on last month's cover.

- Oh yeah, you mean Frances.

Doreen Hamilton's just a name she uses when she's working.

Very nice girl.

I'm sorry, Chief Superintendent, she doesn't work

for me anymore, so I can't help you there, can I?

- She's not working for anyone anymore, Mr. Dougan.

- [Announcer] They're off.

Doc Walker getting into his strike with Old Pretender,

Cutler's Girl and Starboard Light, Wilhelm on the rail,

King Hecula well placed on the outside

and Mr. Playbird, the newcomer, doing nicely on this side.

In the leading bunch now it's still Doc Walker,

Old Pretender, Mr. Playbird and King Hecula.

Cutler's Girl losing ground now.

Mr. Playbird moving very easily, just on the heels

of the leaders, but Old Pretender heads

to the front from Doc Walker.

Mr. Playbird challenging Old Pretender now.

It's Mr. Playbird and Old Pretender neck and neck,

battling it out, and at the line

it's Mr. Playbird first by just a touch.

It's Old Pretender second.

- Doreen Hamilton was found dead

about half past nine last night.

- Hello. - Hello.

- I'm Lena Cunningham.

I've got an appointment with Mr. Dougan.

I think I'm a bit late.

- Oh yes, please, do sit down, will you?

- Thank you.

- Mr. Dougan, there's a Lena Cunningham to see you.

Yes, all right, right away.

Would you like to go in?

- Oh thank you.

- Right, gentlemen, yours, I believe.

- Tell me something, Mr. Dougan.

Does your magazine make a habit of this?

- No, the copulation of women with the divine goat

has been reported in antiquity from Egypt

in the fifth century BC.

- Oh yeah.

That a hobby of yours then, witchcraft?

- No.

Oh I did once go to a little dungeon

in Berkley Square when I was a student.

It was a sort of a surrealistic strip show.

- Thanks very much.

- [Harry] Excuse me, Miss Cunningham, please come in.

Make yourself comfortable. Take your clothes off.

- Divine goat?

- I won't keep you a moment.

I'll just get rid of these gentlemen, then I'll be with you.

Sorry I couldn't help you.

- Thanks for the information, Mr. Dougan.

I'll be seeing you.

(chuckling)

- Good day, Mr. Dougan.

- Oh I hope so.

(light music)

Good.

Very good.

Get yourself a suntan.

- Thanks.

Can I get dressed now?

- [Harry] Unless you can do something better.

- Okay, folks, the scene is the Hellfire Club.

(soft music)

(group chattering)

(light music)

Come on, folks, put some life into it.

(group chattering)

(light music)

That's it.

(light music)

Come on, Heather, move it.

(light music)

(group chattering)

(light music)

You're supposed to do that for the camera.

(light music)

- You got anything on this photographer Terry Day?

- Here's the printout now, sir.

- Get your coat. Let's get round there.

(upbeat music)

- Good day, Miss.

- Hello.

- Chief Superintendent Holbourne.

This is Inspector Morgan.

- Good day, Miss.

- Yes?

- Is this the Day studio?

- That's right.

- Could we have a word with him please?

- Perhaps just hold on, let me get him.

- All right.

- Aladdin's Cave.

- The truth.

Here comes the genie.

- I'm afraid I don't have time to see you now.

I'm very busy.

- I'm sure you'll find time to see us, Mr. Day.

- After you.

(dramatic music)

- Foxtrot Two to base.

- Okay, it's beginning to get interesting.

I've got a violent temper.

I'm egotistical, I'm aggressive, and when people annoy me,

I tend to hit them.

All right, I've done time for it.

For assault, the regular kind,

not your common sexual variety.

- So we've heard, Mr. Day.

- I'm sure you have.

- Tell me something, Mr. Day.

Do you get your kicks outta these

silly little acts that your models put on for you?

- It's my job to photograph them.

To bring out their artistic ability.

- Comedian.

(crowd murmuring)

- [Announcer] Change of colours,

number 17 wears a black cap.

Red, black cross bells and a black cap.

(horse nickering)

Jockeys, please mount.

Jockeys, please mount.

(crowd murmuring)

(horse nickering)

Number 15, Tumblestone, ridden by Tim Forrest.

Mr. Playbird, just exiting from the paddock,

the recent winner, Mr. Playbird.

In the colours of Mr. Harry Dougan.

Black and yellow colours,

and he's going down followed by Rattlesnake, number three.

(crowd chattering)

And this is number 17, Moon Lad, Jack Anthony.

(crowd chattering)

They're all in the stalls now, under starter's orders.

They're off, Harry Dasher, Moon Lad

and Mr. Playbird break well.

On the stands side, Harry Dasher,

Moon Lad, Mr. Playbird.

That's the order from Grizzly Lil,

Victoria Station and Red Cross Boy.

Moon Lad, Harry Dasher, Mr. Playbird,

Tumblestone, Grizzly Lil, Victoria Station

not far behind the leaders.

Entering the closing stretches now.

- He's gonna do it.

I told you, he's gonna do it.

- [Announcer] Harry Dasher on the far side,

and Mr. Playbird is taking him now.

- Go, my son!

(laughing)

Eat your hearts out!

- [Announcer] Number 14, Mr. Playbird.

- Can you account for your movements?

- Okay, I'll tell you everything I know

just to get you clowns off my back.

I spent the afternoon with a friend.

- Name, Terry.

- Do I have to tell you his name?

- I'd say it was George Ransome, the MP.

Had to guess.

- Right first time.

- Very well, I'll have a word with him.

If you're lying to me, Terry,

I'll come back and I'll take you down a nick.

- Yes, sir.

- The whole thing has been extremely bad.

It's a taste of worse to come.

- Yes.

- It's a lonely cell and two hard-faced queer wardens.

The parson droning on and on,

thumping the text about perverted sinners.

As I take the long walk down the corridor

to the execution room.

- You should read the papers more often.

They don't hang people anymore, except for treason.

- Oh, what a terrible pity.

Is there no romance in the world today?

- [Announcer] And the latest results

from this afternoon's racing at Newmarket, at 2:30.

First, number 14, Mr. Playbird at four to one.

- This is printing now, sir.

- Too late for that stuff.

There goes my trouble.

- George Ransome, MP.

Longstanding member of the Conservative Party.

Director of several companies.

Wife and two adopted teenage kids.

Ah yes, he's well known as a TV celebrity.

Terry Day was right. He's a keen amateur astrologer.

- I could tell you that lot from the bloody Who's Who.

- [Dispatcher] Control to Delta One.

Incident reported at derelict barn on Coaley Lane.

(car approaching)

(brakes squealing)

- Donny. - Morning.

- Hi, Doc. - Morning, Jack.

- The cause of death? - Strangled.

- How long ago, you reckon?

- Two, three weeks, I'll know better

when I get back to the lab.

- [Jack] What's that mark there on her forehead?

- It's a vertical line of lipstick.

- Number one, I wondered when the hell she'd turn up.

- Right.

Looks like a Guy Fawkes job.

Do you have any idea what this place used to be, Constable?

- Used to be a stable, sir.

- Seen enough, Jack?

- Yeah yeah, take her away.

Sarge, can I have a word with you?

- [Sergeant] Yes, sir.

- All right then, what does make him tick?

- Horses, sir.

The first girl was found in a barn

that used to be used as stables.

The second spent every penny she had on riding lessons.

And the third girl was photographed

on a rocking horse for Playbird.

- So it could be horses turn him on ... or off.

- No sexual assault, no perversion, just strangled.

Quick, clean, efficient.

An expert.

- Excuse me, sir, you don't have to be

an expert to strangle someone.

- I'm sorry, Sergeant, I forget that you've been

trained in the art of self-defense.

- Not that it does us much good.

I want to make the most of my police training.

At the moment, I feel like a traffic warden.

- So if this isn't a hobby of yours, Mr. Dougan,

what exactly is your interest in witchcraft?

- None at all.

No you see, the whole idea actually started one morning

when an alcoholic writer of mine had the DTs.

You see, it's more and more difficult to find

new ways of posing girls.

- Have you chosen the next girl for centre spread?

- Yes.

You met her.

Lena Cunningham.

- Oh yeah.

Right, we'll put a 24-hour watch on her.

- Oh come on, is that really necessary?

- I think so, Mr. Dougan.

The only thing to connect these murders so far

is that all the girls work for you.

- Yes.

Would you give Miss Cunningham's address

to these gentlemen, on their way out?

- Thanks.

(pen scribbling)

- There we are.

- Thanks.

- There you are, sir.

- Thanks, Harry.

What do you reckon of Dougan?

- I don't know.

There could be something there, I suppose.

Bit of a pleasant bastard, though, isn't he?

- Certainly cheers his horses.

- You know, the more I think about it,

the more I think we're dealing with some kind of fanatic,

like a religious fanatic.

I mean, try and get a picture of the killer.

He could be some kind of religious nut,

obsessed by pornography, right?

He sees a series in one of Dougan's magazines,

combining witchcraft and girls.

Now, suppose, just suppose for a moment,

he also knows that Dougan's potty about horse racing.

- You're bloody right there.

What's that gotta do with it?

- Don't you see, horses and the supernatural?

Look, the Celts believed their souls travelled

on horseback to the Land of the Dead

and that horses were clairvoyant, right.

In the Middle Ages, witches were said

to hang ride horses to their coven meetings.

Used to bring them back to their owners just before dawn,

exhausted and drenched in sweat.

- Tell me something, Harry,

why did you ever become a copper?

- No, listen, I'm serious.

Don't you see, to a deranged mind

it could mean that there are three forces of evil at work.

Sex, witchcraft, and horses,

the unholy trinity.

Well, our maniac could feel he's got a mission

in life to wipe them out.

- We're dealing with a maniac, all right.

A sex maniac.

- No sign of any of the bodies being interfered with.

- Apart from having the life choked

out of them, hardly at all.

Now you gotta remember, Harry,

your sex murderer is not necessarily a rapist.

Remember the Boston Strangler?

Come on, I got a call to make.

- Right, Denson. - Hello, sir.

- What fodder to you feed the brute?

- The first main section was sex offenders in England,

but of course the cards can be divided

into lots of subsections.

- There are the cards, sir.

- Tell you what there are so many

you might just as well go through the bloody files.

- Horses for courses.

Right, now look whack them in again and this time

leave out the sections that don't apply, like incest,

offences against children, and transvestites.

- No, better leave that one in for the minute.

- Lot of old cobblers, nothing personal.

- Oh, and you can forget anybody who's

under five foot six and weighs less than seven stone.

- Jerry?

Jack Holbourne.

I want 20 quid on Breastplate in the 4:30.

Breastplate.

As you say, on the nipple.

Don't worry, Jerry, there's a check in the post.

Cheers.

- [Announcer] As they approach the winning post

for the first time, it's Rumble Town, Eyedropper

Breastplate, Victoria Station.

- Harry, there are two things a Grand National winner

must have, and that's heart and courage.

- Now you tell me, mate.

- [Announcer] Eyedropper, Breastplate losing ground.

Mr. Playbird making very rapid progress on the outside.

Mr. Playbird coming to join the leaders

now on the far side, with Rumble Town.

Mr. Playbird, Rumble Town, and as we race into

the closing stages, it's Mr. Playbird, from Rumble Town.

(crowd murmuring)

- There he is again.

He's done it (laughs).

- [Announcer] First, number 17, Mr. Playbird.

- Wait until I collect my winnings, I'll buy you a drink.

- [Announcer] And now the latest results from Leicester.

The 4:30, first, number, 17,

Mr. Playbird, joint favourite at four to one.

Second, number 11, Rumble Town, 11 to two.

Third, number 22, Breastplate,

joint favourite at four to one.

(traffic passing)

(soft music)

(doorbell ringing)

(soft music)

- Yeah?

- Miss Lena Cunningham?

- Yes.

- I'm Chief Superintendent Holbourne.

And Inspector Morgan.

- Miss.

- Can we have a word with you please?

- Sure.

(soft music)

This way, gentlemen.

Do take a seat.

- Thanks.

(soft music)

Very nice.

- No law against it, is there?

- No.

But someone's got it in for the girls in the centre spread.

- Oh that's just a coincidence.

Besides, I'm a big girl now. I can look after myself.

- You'll look great sitting there in the mortuary

next to them, won't you?

- Oh come off it, nobody's gonna do me in.

- Seriously, girl, this joker might try it again

and he might try it on you.

So we're laying on some protection.

- Oh very well, but if I have a choice,

can I have this one?

- Don't say it.

(group chattering)

- Oh Martin Dolby's back in circulation again,

and he wants a mount on Mr. Playbird.

- Oh does he?

Come on, Reg.

You've heard all about these killings.

- The Playbird Murders, as the press call them?

- Exactly.

How would it look

if an ex-sex offender returns riding Mr. Playbird?

- It's got nothing to do with you.

Let the coppers get on with their job

and don't worry about it.

- That's just the trouble.

The coppers are not getting on with their job,

and meanwhile my girls are being snuffed out.

Hm, they're not keen enough to get on my

casting couch anymore, I can tell you.

(laughing)

Two more large ones.

- Good, let's have a little bit.

Lovely, Lena, very very nice.

Good, that's very nice, good.

(upbeat music)

Good, come on girls, liven it up a little more.

Come on, a little more.

That's better, come on.

Good.

Good, lovely.

Thanks, that's great, that's great, that's fine,

that's a wrap, okay?

- Some party.

- Care to take me home then?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Just go and get this lot off then.

- Okay.

(upbeat music)

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

(traffic passing)

- Thanks for the company. I enjoyed it.

- Oh, it was my pleasure.

I always wanted to see a photo session.

- Did you learn anything?

- Uh, yes.

There you go.

- Don't you want a drink, or isn't it allowed?

- Well I should think I could escort you to your door, yes.

- Good.

Anyway, Love, I'm gonna go and get changed.

- Fine.

- Make yourself at home.

Help yourself to a drink. I shan't be long.

- Great pleasure to present Mr. George Ransome,

the Tory MP for Hambridge, who is a newly elected

member of the Decency League.

- Hello, I don't think that pornography is a real threat

to the future of Great Britain.

I love liberty.

People should be allowed to control their own lives.

What they are not entitled to do

is to corrupt and deprave other people.

- How can you justify your reaction to so-called

pornographic literature when so much more pornography

is shown to primary schoolchildren

under the guise of sex education?

- Sex education in the atmosphere of the schoolroom

is very different from the filth that one finds

displayed on book stands or in cinema clubs.

They say, why can't people choose to be heroin addicts?

We know that the use of heroin

can lead to addiction, thereby depriving a person of his

liberty and his personal control over his life.

Well, pornography is the heroin of the soul,

and people must be protected against it.

(door closing)

- Hi.

Who's this then?

- Oh, that's my father.

- A vicar?

- No, a bishop.

- Oh yeah?

So what does Daddy think about your line of work then?

- I doubt that he reads Playbirds.

Besides, I haven't seen him in years.

- Oh, why is that?

- Well, it's a bit of a long story.

Came down to London, fell in love with a guy,

got myself pregnant.

Found out he didn't love me, so I had an abortion.

- I'm very sorry.

- Oh, that's okay.

Anyway, that's how I got into modelling.

My first nude session paid for the abortion.

(vehicles passing)

(crowd chattering)

- Well I'm afraid he isn't very consistent.

What about love your enemies?

- If we learn to love our enemies,

we must never be without them.

And yet we try to get rid of them. Is that consistent?

- No, I suppose not.

- No.

- [Preacher] He shall smite you with all the wrath,

with the all the wrath shown to His enemies.

(siren blaring)

- Haven't you forgotten something?

I get it every day.

Cream.

- Oh.

Nice and fresh.

- I hear they wanna move the club, sir.

- Yes, the home office think there may be something

more in this than meets our eye.

- What would they do?

- Well they'd bring a woman in.

Some knowledge of espionage, the uninhibited kind.

No holds barred.

- So why don't we do the same thing, sir?

- It's respectable that the home office do it.

(elevator whirring)

(soft dramatic music)

(elevator stopping)

(dramatic music)

- Excuse me, gov, got a light please?

- Oh yeah, sure.

You can relax for a bit, Tom.

I'm taking her out tonight.

- Oh yeah?

- Perks and that, blokes.

- Yeah, some people have it always.

(dramatic music)

(doorbell ringing)

- You're early, and I'm not even ready (screams).

(screaming)

(screaming)

(choking)

(dramatic music)

(screaming)

(dramatic music)

(door closing)

(dramatic music)

(elevator whirring)

(dramatic music)

(elevator screeching)

(dramatic music)

- Call the chief, that's him!

- HQ to base, HQ to base.

(dramatic music)

- Oh no.

Roger, we're on it.

(dramatic music)

(feet running)

(dramatic music)

(siren blaring)

- Did you check the bedroom?

- I did, yes.

- The kitchen?

- Yes.

- Any windows open?

- One window, sir.

- Oh, what a shambles.

Where's Morgan?

- Don't know, sir.

- Evening, Doctor.

- Evening, Sir.

- Strangled? - Yes, sir.

- [Jack] Time of death?

- About half an hour, sir.

(door closing)

- You're too bloody late, Morgan.

- Just a second, Mr. Dougan.

It's Dougan lodging a complaint by the sound of it.

- He's got a nerve.

- Yes, Mr. Dougan?

Oh yes, yes, I quite understand, yes.

Well no, I'm afraid not.

All I can tell you, Mr. Dougan, is that we'll soon

be in a position to make an arrest.

Yes, that's right.

What's that?

Thank you, Mr. Dougan.

Cheeky bugger.

- Too cheeky, if you ask me.

He dug her right out of these birds, in the magazine.

Down the strip clubs, clever.

- Too clever to be mixed up in murder, do you reckon?

- Too rich.

I don't think he needs those sort of kicks.

- So, someone else maybe?

Someone who knows Dougan.

Someone who's got a grudge against him perhaps.

Trying to fit him up.

- It's a complicated way of going about it.

I reckon Dougan's too smart to be caught

with his alibis down.

(grunting)

- Watch it, you'll go blind.

Hi, Luce.

- Hi.

- What you up to?

Catching up on your police training?

- And why not? I'm fed up with nothing to do.

I want to work from the inside.

- Inside?

Do you mean the government crew.

I don't think it's the right sort of work for a woman.

Too bloody soft.

- Unless you take that back,

I shall arrest you under the Sex Discrimination Act.

- Promise?

- I thought of a new market,

you know, Malta, with all those servicemen.

- Recently in Malta, they seized literature containing

advice on birth control, had it burnt as pornography.

- Well I just thought of a new international market.

- Do you know that in the Soviet Union and Red China,

they actually think that pornography is a subversive plot

to undermine the actions and health of the working classes?

(laughing)

I'm going to be on my way out to parties

til the end of the month.

Can you handle that?

I am thinking diversifying business.

- Why, because of these murders?

- No, because the police think I have

some sort of death wish.

That's all this crap.

- Here they are.

(reporters shouting)

- Look, there's no bloody comment.

(reporters chattering)

- Sir, there's a message for you

from the assistant commissioner.

- Thanks.

(sighing)

I reckon he's gonna take me off the case.

- Well you better come up with something fast then, sir.

Look, I've been thinking about this witchcraft.

- No, our only hope's to get him on number five.

- What do you mean carry right on

and see the next girl as a mark?

- Yep.

- Well if that is the case we better make sure the next girl

on the centre spread can take care of herself.

- Brilliant.

- No, I'm serious, Jack.

Look, she should be on the force, a policewoman.

- Aw, come on, Harry, what are you playing at?

First we have to find a policewoman

who looks good without her clothes on.

Second, we have to find a policewoman who will

take them off and pose for photographs.

- For heaven's sake, it's worth a try.

- I don't think the commissioner will buy it.

Another problem, she's got to get on that centre spread

on her own merits, she can't tell Dougan.

- Why not? I shouldn't reckon he likes collecting corpses.

- Come on, it can't be police strategy.

- Well, strategy can be modified.

- If you had your way, we'd be publishing

in competition with Dougan.

- There's nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition.

Anyway, sir, you always did say you wanted

to own your own racehorse.

- Eternal damnation and festering fire.

And die in the most dreadful agonies

in the sulphurous flames.

The Lord will not be denied.

- Right, young Morgan, over to you, showtime.

- Right.

Could you send in WPC Taylor now please?

- Hope you bloody well know what you're doing.

- Ah, Taylor, come in, please.

Now then, you know what this is all about, do you?

- Yes, sir.

- And you still want to go through with it?

- Yes, sir.

- Fine.

Off you go then.

(burlesque music)

Right, thanks very much, Taylor, we'll let you know.

(burlesque music)

- Hm.

- Well how many winners have you had lately?

- You know that Lena Cunningham series

has sold over 60,000 copies,

and I've just done a deal with the United States

for half a million on each issue.

Yes, that Orgies Through the Ages Series

was the best idea I ever had.

(intercom buzzing)

Just a minute.

Look, I've told you never to interrupt me when-

None on the press.

On the Express, yes, put him on.

Hello.

(chuckling)

No, no, I'm sorry, look,

no, I can't give you the name of the girl

on the next centre spread now.

No, the subject is not witchcraft.

It never was.

No, the series is going to be called

Eroticism Through the Ages.

Fine, yes, okay, keep in touch.

While I get in touch with you.

(chuckling)

- Right, Sullivan, can we have Sergeant Andrews now please?

- Sergeant Andrews.

- Andrews, would you mind standing over there please?

Now then, has it been explained to you why you're here?

- Yes, sir, I think I have a pretty good idea

of what you want.

- Fine.

Tell me something, are you shy?

- Sir?

- About your body, I mean.

- Well, sir, I think it's all right.

- Oh, great.

Well, perhaps you'd like to show us then.

- Sir?

- Show us.

- Sir, is that an order?

- Don't be ridiculous.

If you wanna do this job, you gotta take your clothes off.

- Well, will you stay behind the desk?

- Yes, yes, of course we will.

Get on with it.

(burlesque music)

I don't fancy this filly's chances.

(chuckling)

(laughing)

(burlesque music)

(laughing)

(burlesque music)

- Thank you very much, Andrews.

That's enough for the time being. You can leave now.

I said that's enough, thank you, you can leave now.

Would you take your clothes with you please?

- Oh, yes.

- Just a second.

I think those belong to you, don't they?

- Yes.

- What's a nut like that doing on the force?

- Are you ready?

Are you ready for him, the black master of darkness?

The dark lord of the other side?

- Yes, master.

(soft music)

- His member is exceedingly great and long.

His nature burns with the fires of hell.

Are you ready to receive him?

- Yes, oh yes.

- On this occasion, a stranger prays

to become a member of our fold.

And it is for you, disciples of the Prince of Darkness,

to say, whether you have any objections

or reasons why persons cannot be received into our circle.

- Thank you.

(computer whirring)

- Well, Johnson, what do you got?

- Oh, sir, take a look at this, see what you think.

See the rocking horse on the left.

Look at the window beyond it. Can you see anything there?

- No, I can't see anything.

- Take a look at this one.

This is the same photograph four times enlarged.

- I still can't see anything.

- Look at the window at the bottom.

There's a face there.

- Yeah, can you do anything with that?

- We're working on it, sir.

We've taken X-rays of the face,

and we've fed them into the computer.

And we're comparing the bone structure

with everything we've got on the files.

I'll go and see what they're doing, sir.

- All right.

- Anything on Dougan yet?

- Not yet, we've fed in information on horses,

Playbird Magazine and various girls,

but nothing has clicked together so far.

- Great.

- This is an analysis of his tax situation based on data

from the Inland Revenue.

- Oh, there's nothing there.

- This is a rundown of the exchange control aspect

of his overseas sales and Bank of England information.

- Yeah, and?

- Nothing there.

Nor from any European vice squads.

- That's bloody wet.

Sir, he's clean, Dougan.

Absolutely bloody clean.

- Nobody's that clean. What about his bookies?

- Nothing in the check index,

nothing in the method index, nothing under fraud,

nothing under nicknames either.

- That's a new one.

How about the others?

- Murder index, property index, central vehicle index.

Useless, except for the fact he got

a parking ticket five years ago.

- Big deal.

- So, all we know about Mr. Dougan for sure is that

Playbird sales have rocketed since the murders began.

- I've lost a mint because of that damn horse of his.

- Look, sir, this is what we got

from that blur in the window.

- Right, I want 50 prints of this right away.

- Right, sir.

- I wanna know who that bastard is.

- Hello, Jack, haven't seen you for a while.

Here, what do you fancy at Cheltenham, Mr. Playbird?

- Fuck off, will you, and leave me alone.

- Easy, Jack.

- Bill.

- Sit down, Jack.

The old man thinks we need a change of tactics.

He wants you off the case.

I disagree with him.

You got seven days.

Starting now.

- Right.

- Chief Superintendent?

Two o'clock tomorrow, Dancing Johnny.

- Dancing Johnny?

Thank you, sir.

(door opening and closing)

(crowd chattering)

- [Announcer] Will Mr. David Sullivan, the trainer,

come to the weighing room immediately?

(crowd chattering)

- Hey. - See ya.

- Perkins did his back in riding that half-blind giraffe.

- So who's riding Mr. Playbird?

- Well I know you have reservations, Harry,

but if we can't get anyone else,

we'll have to put Dolby up.

- Oh bloody marvellous.

If I was the Queen Mum,

the only son of a bitch would ride my horses.

Aw, stuff it.

(crowd cheering)

- He's looking good today.

Give him his head.

Give him his head.

- [Announcer] Mr. Playbird and Eyedropper.

And it's Breastplate pulling away now

from Mr. Playbird and Eyedropper.

(shouting)

- You couldn't train a fly to hit a wall.

- Harry, I really think this is all pretty pointless.

- Now look here, Jack, it was you that said

our only chance was to get him at number five.

Anyway, this is the last of the girls now.

Will you send in Sheridan now please?

- Harry, do you know we have seen nine women?

- Ah, come in, Lucy.

You know what this is for, don't you?

- Yes, sir.

- And you understand it can be more

than simply posing in the nude?

Dougan's setup does more than just produce

Playbird every month.

- I'm fully aware of the risks.

- Do you still want to go through with it?

- I saw the dead girls.

It's something I won't forget for a long time.

- I think we all feel like that, Lucy.

Right, well, I think the best thing would be for you

to pretend you're doing an audition for Dougan.

Okay?

(light music)

- I'll buy that one.

(light music)

- Okay, go put your clothes on.

We'll explain what you have to do later.

- Thank you.

- Old Mr. Playbird lost by a half a length

after a good start.

(crowd murmuring)

- Oh you picked a winner at last, Harry.

- Thanks very much, sir.

- She's all right in the flat.

Here's to her in the sticks.

(soft music)

- Turn over.

- Okay, Miss.

(soft music)

(moaning)

(soft music)

(moaning)

(soft music)

(soft music)

(moaning)

(soft music)

- After a while, everything begins to look like a flasher.

- I was stuck in a freaking office, so I joined the police.

Now look at me.

Stuck in another freaking office with a load

of faceless machines and 20,000 perverts.

- Hey, come here, look at this.

See what the old lady's come up with this time.

We've got him. We've got the bastard.

- I'm not so sure.

At first glance, the structure looks identical,

but there's something different somewhere.

- Well I'll take it right away down to Mr. Holbourne.

What's the man's name anyway?

- Hern.

- How's that?

- Oh, it's lovely.

- Would you like to turn over?

- Yes.

(soft music)

(moaning)

(soft music)

- So once more, Mr. Hern, where were you on Tuesday

the 22nd of this last month at four in the morning?

- On that day, as every day, I walked the path

of righteousness in the sight of God.

I walk no other way.

- Now listen, Mr. Hern, I'm trying to be as patient

as I can, right, but your answers don't make any sense.

- Oh I understand, you're confused.

You must pray to the Lord our God for wisdom.

I will pray with you.

- I don't want wisdom, Mr. Hern, I want information,

and you're bloody gonna give it to me.

- Raise not thy voice in anger.

Remember the words of Isaiah.

As sounding horns are the voices of mine enemies in wrath,

but they will be scattered, their flocks counted

and their women defiled.

- Yes, that's right.

There have been women defiled, haven't there, Mr. Hern?

And you know all about that, don't you?

- I know that I saw heaven open

and behold a white horse.

And He sat upon and it was called faithful and true.

But then I looked and behold a pale horse,

and his name that sat on him was death.

(officers chattering)

(radio chattering)

- Tell me something.

These women, do you think it was their fault?

- These are the creatures that call themselves men too.

As Isaiah said, they are as fed horses in the morning,

every one neighed after his neighbor's wife.

- You wouldn't mind if our X-ray machine took

a little photo of your face, would you now?

- Why should I mind that?

As the good Lord said, let us make man in our image,

after our likeness.

Jenkins, come take Mr. Hern to the X-ray room, would you?

Yeah, now.

- Inspector Morgan, can I have a word with you?

- Yes, sir.

- Keep an eye on him, will you, Constable?

- Yes, sir.

- What the hell are you doing with that religious nut?

- Well, while you were out, sir, the technical lads

rang down to say the face at the window

could belong to Hern, so I had him picked up

straight away and pulled in.

- Listen, Morgan, I'm running this case,

and nobody gets picked up unless I say so, right?

- Yes, sir.

- And we're looking for a sex maniac, not a creeping Jesus.

Now get rid of him.

(radio chattering)

(soft music)

- You've had a heavy day, darling.

- Hello, Foxy.

Takes a bit of getting used to.

- These men take us to be their shrinks.

- I suppose so.

Still, that's my last customer of the day.

- Why don't you come back to the flat

for a drink and a chat?

It's only just down the road.

- Yes, yes, I'd love to.

I'm new at this job, and there's a lot

I'd like to find out about it.

But first I'll have to pop home, feed my cat.

Okay?

(register ringing)

- Thank you.

- Thanks, Luce.

So, you okay?

- Fine, Harry.

- So tell me, how's things at the sweatshop?

- Well Foxy, one of the girls that works there,

can get me an introduction to Dougan.

- Dougan? - Mm.

- Oh yeah, what kind of introduction?

- I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to her place tonight.

- Well don't worry, we'll be right there.

- I'd appreciate that.

(soft music)

- Thank you.

Don't all these murders worry you?

- Shit no.

In the trade, we don't bother about that.

It would worry Dougan, then everything worries him.

- Do you know him?

- You could say that.

He finds it useful for me to do

a bit of talent spotting for him.

Find his kind of girl.

- Really?

- He buys loads of presents.

Do you want to see?

- Yes.

(soft music)

- He sure knows how to treat a girl, right?

- It's beautiful.

- Like all men, he thinks of himself first.

And the girl second.

- You mean it's good with a girl?

- That's just what I mean.

I'm gonna show you, right now.

Come on, baby.

If you want to enjoy it properly, you have to give and take.

Here, let me show you.

(soft music)

(panting)

(soft music)

(soft moaning)

(soft music)

(soft moaning)

(soft music)

- Wilson, CS Holbourne here.

Any news of Sheridan?

- She's gone.

- Did you check the flat?

- She left by taxi.

- Anyone check the flat?

- [Wilson] No, sir.

- For God sake, Wilson, get your finger out.

Get somebody around there to check that flat now!

Out.

(soft dramatic music)

- Oh goody, I'm going to be raped.

I've never been raped before.

(soft dramatic music)

(screaming)

(choking)

(dramatic music)

(siren blaring)

(brakes squealing)

(radio chattering)

(soft dramatic music)

(phone dialling)

(soft dramatic music)

- What do you make of this witchcraft bit then?

- Young Morgan has been working on it,

but I don't reckon there's much to it.

- Well you can't afford to ignore it, though, can you?

I mean, people getting involved,

scared to start with the stupid bloody things.

Remember that Stratton case?

- Yeah, hell of a mess, huh?

- Yeah, that lad's still in hospital, too.

Check it out anyway.

- George, we have a new film in from New York

for Dougan's party next week at the villa.

It's very artistic.

It's been banned from coast to coast.

That is the only copy in England.

- Well we can't have this sort

of thing in general circulation.

It's fine for men of the world like ourselves, but, uh.

(birds chirping)

(hooves beating)

(horses whinnying)

- How fast do you go?

(horses whinnying)

Morning, it's a bit tacky out there.

(birds chirping)

You don't kiss a horse, you know.

You're in love with me, remember?

- Kingfish are now going to roof.

- Right.

Thanks, Sergeant.

(radio chattering)

(phone dialling)

(soft romantic music)

- This isn't exactly what I was expecting

when I came for the audition.

- No, but you must admit it's the biggest

casting couch you've ever seen.

- It sure is.

(soft romantic music)

(phone ringing)

- Yes.

- Mr. Dougan?

Detective Inspector Morgan here, sir.

- Yes, Inspector.

Yes, well it is a bit inconvenient at the moment.

Hm?

It's that important?

- Yes, yes, that's right.

- I'm sure I can get away.

Say half an hour?

Okay, I'll be there.

(soft romantic music)

Bloody fuzz.

They always ring when I'm enjoying myself.

- Do we have to stop?

- I'm afraid so, Lucy girl.

I have an urgent appointment at Scotland Yard.

- Oh?

Do you know someone there?

- Hey, come on, they're not all bad.

I need you to be a good girl right now.

I've invited two of them

to my end-of-the-month special party.

- Oh God.

- Quite a relief, you know what I mean?

Tall hats, truncheons, all that bit, huh?

All right, Lucy, I'm sorry, but can we

continue this conversation another time?

- But, Terry said you'd given the okay today

about using me in the magazine for photos.

- You still wanna be a Playbird?

Well the whole country would say you're stark raving mad.

As for me, they still think it's my fault

instead of blaming the bloody police.

- Yes, they're not very efficient.

The pigs can't even find the horrible man

who murdered all those poor girls.

- No they can't, can they?

- Listen, I'm sorry, Lucy, but no hard feelings, huh?

Don't worry, I'll get in touch with Terry

about getting you in Playbirds.

- Would you? Oh thank you so much.

You know I'd do anything for you.

- Yeah.

(soft romantic music)

I think you would.

Say goodbye.

- I'm glad I caught you, Bill. I think I got him.

- Who is it?

- His name is Dolby, Martin Dolby.

He's a convicted sex offender,

and he was one of Dougan's jockeys.

- Did you pull him in?

- Not yet.

- Rape, '68,

rape, '73.

Nasty.

- Yeah.

- Paroled for good behaviour?

- Yeah, well, he's blown that.

- On your way.

Say, Jack, how did you get that lot then, legwork?

- Damn right.

By the way, sir, that horse of yours? Rubbish.

- Get out.

- Hi. - Hello.

- What's your name?

- Lucy.

- Lucy, I remember.

- I'm very nervous.

This is the first job I've had for Harry.

- This is the first job you've had for Harry?

- So you'll have to tell me what to do.

- Well I'll tell you what to do.

Just forget about the camera.

(soft music)

(shutter clicking)

Good, and stretch.

Stretch, fine, very very good.

That's very good.

That's great.

Right, good, and could you undress please?

Take the robe off.

- Yes. What about my hair?

- Could you let it down, please?

- Mm-hm. - Great.

- And keep the jewellery.

- Okay.

Can you give me a hand?

- Sure.

What did you do before you came here?

- I worked in a massage parlour.

- In a massage parlour?

- Mm, it was quite interesting.

- Uh-huh, yeah, you were wasted in a massage parlour.

- Do you think so?

- I think so, yeah.

- It was quite fun.

- It was fun, huh?

- Lots of interesting gentlemen.

(upbeat music)

- Oh yes.

(upbeat music)

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

- Ah, you're right in there. You're right there.

You're right back.

(upbeat music)

(shutter clicking)

(upbeat music)

- Is Mr. Dolby in?

- Hang on.

It's the police.

- Sorry, me old man ain't in at the moment.

- When do you expect him back?

- Don't know.

Today like every bleeding day and night,

he's out looking for a mount, isn't he?

Go in, go on.

Go on.

- Thank you, Mrs. Dolby.

- Yeah, yeah.

- Are you charging me?

If so, I wanna see a lawyer.

- Wrap that around you.

We wanna do a few tests on your clothes.

- I don't wanna spend the night here.

- Why not? The accommodation's not that bad.

And it's free.

- Come on, Dolby, let's have your clothes.

- Inspector, I told you I got an alibi.

- And I got the crown jewels in the fridge at home.

- I was at Newmarket races.

Mr. Dougan can verify that.

- Check that one.

(upbeat music)

- Good evening, gentlemen, how nice of you to come.

- How very kind of you to invite us, Mr. Dougan.

- Let me introduce you.

Mr. Holbourne, Mr. Morgan, please meet Mr. Rowe.

- How do you do, sir? - How do you do.

- Please to meet you. - Mr. Rowe.

- Have something please.

- Thanks very much.

- Would you like something?

- Thank you very much.

- The party's through there.

- Are they the uh?

- Oh, can't you tell without the hats, though?

(guests chattering)

(upbeat music)

(swimmers laughing and shouting)

(upbeat music)

- Lucy.

- Hello, Jack.

- Hi, Lucy.

- Hi.

- Gonna take a swim?

- You bet.

This is much too good a chance to miss. See you later.

(upbeat music)

- Divine dress.

- Mm, divine villa.

The pornocrats aren't ashamed to be ostentatious anymore.

- Certainly not, big business now.

- Yeah, it's too bloody big.

Where do we stand, the choice being blue print

and blue pencil?

(upbeat music)

- Hey, it's great to see you!

- Who's that? - I don't know.

- Ooh, the man at the bar is quite bizarre,

but his fancy dress is-

- Do I gather that there may be some kind of kink

out there who may or may not be a friend of yours?

- Oh, baby, who's got friends in this lousy world, hey!

- Darling, I'm your friend.

(upbeat music)

- Look at Lucy there.

You'd think she'd been born to the life.

- Like a duck to water.

- [Morgan] Some duck.

- Having a good time, eh?

- Hollingworth will issue a warrant for your arrest

on charges of corruption of personal gain

against the public good.

- Yeah, that's not a warrant, that's a commendation.

- Hey, hey, what's the matter with you?

Because, you know something, you're looking different.

You're looking ... sick.

- [Dougan] Come on, enjoy, enjoy.

- [Rowe] Yes, I will, I will.

- This isn't Dom Perignon now, is it?

They're not sure, they'll never know the difference.

- Do you think so?

- I think so.

Turn this way.

(upbeat music)

Enjoying the party?

- Yes, thank you very much, Mr. Dougan.

- Lovely girl, eh? Name's Lucy.

- I wish I could join her.

- If sex is a great god, then the high priestess

of this religion must be the sex symbol.

- [Lucy] Thank you.

- [Rowe] Hey, Harry, will you come over here?

- Very good.

- I think we've got a visitor.

- Where?

- In the garden, I'll go take a look.

- Right.

Now, Lucy, you'll keep Dougan occupied, right?

- Yes, of course, Jack.

- See this beautiful young lady here?

She's gonna be in our magazine.

- It's not our magazine, sweetheart, it's mine, remember?

- Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself.

(chattering)

- No way, no way.

- [Lucy] Harry, let's go in for a swim.

- You're wet.

I'm allergic, though.

(upbeat music)

(guests chattering)

(upbeat music)

- Morgan's in some garden, better call Control.

- Voice to Control, get the troops up.

(upbeat music)

(shouting and screaming)

(upbeat music)

(upbeat dramatic music)

(tyres squealing)

(upbeat dramatic music)

(tyres squealing)

(upbeat dramatic music)

(brakes squealing)

(upbeat dramatic music)

(brakes squealing)

(doors closing)

(splashing)

(soft dramatic music)

(siren blaring)

(responders murmuring)

- [Officer] That's George Ransome, the MP.

He was on television the other night.

(engine starting)

(siren blaring)

(traffic passing)

- Do you have a normal sex life?

(soft music)

- Do you?

- Are you a lesbian?

- Do I look like one?

- Any kinks?

- Not that I'm aware of.

Well how do you feel about your life

being in continual danger, Miss Sheridan?

- Is it?

- You seem to take it rather calmly.

- We do have a competent police force.

(shutter clicking)

(screaming)

(screaming)

(screaming)

(shutter clicking)

(screaming)

(dramatic music)

(screaming)

(screaming)

(dramatic music)

- I never did reckon Ransome.

Computer printout showed he had no murder tendencies at all.

- [Jack] And I tell you he's guilty as hell.

- Of murder? Never.

- Of what then?

- He was a simple voyeur,

getting his kicks from looking at people.

- All right, young mastermind,

who do you reckon murdered all those girls?

- My opinion hasn't changed really, sir.

I reckon it's Hern.

The pattern fits with a man of his background.

- Computer again?

- That's right, sir. That's the family background report.

- All right, carry on with your investigation.

- Thanks very much, sir.

- Five pounds says he didn't do it.

- All right, you're on.

- I'll give you 10 to one.

- If you insist.

I'd really like to take that kind of money

from you, though, sir.

- I haven't really got that kinda money.

- Born of the devil.

Daughter of Jezebel.

- We'd like another little sermon.

Down at the station.

- I hold the keys to hell and to death.

In my right hand are seven stars

and a great sword in my left.

(engine revving)

- Lucy Sheridan issue being unloaded.

- Okay, sir, four corners now moving in.

(tyres squealing)

(doors closing)

- How am I supposed to support my wife and kids, huh?

(groaning)

(groaning)

(engine starting)

- Yes.

Yes.

Paul Hern.

Back to the routine, I suppose now.

But between you and me, I was quite fond of Harry Dougan.

Yes (laughs).

See you in the morning, cheerio.

(soft dramatic music)

You got away.

- I'm Tommy, his twin brother, son of Satan.

The demon must have sacrifice.

Sacrifice pretty girls.

(dramatic music)

(upbeat music)

♪ Playbird ♪

♪ One taste of you and my throat hurts ♪

♪ One sad sigh and my heart hurts ♪

♪ It's longing to fly ♪

♪ Two shadows dancing like kings in the wind ♪

♪ Two changing shapes by a window ♪

♪ With nothing but nothing to say ♪

♪ Look at all, it's danger now ♪

(upbeat music)