All language subtitles for Lewis 04x02

.

(BELL TOLLS)

(BELL RINGS)

(GUNSHOT)

(LOW CONVERSATION)

Whoa!

Name, please.
Hobson.

First name?
Laura.

That's correct. Thank you.

Clarinet. Sagittarius.

Favourite colour blue.

Gwennie?
Mm?

Bulb's gone.

I do want everything right
for Malcolm.

Well, you know where they are.

I'll do it, Sir Arnold.

Oh, you're too kind to an old man.

Sir?

Oh, it's Malcolm Finniston,
for the rehearsal.

You're...you're not on my list,
Mr Finniston. Temple?

There was a porter in my day called
Temple. Um...Ted Temple.

My father, sir.

How is old Ted?
He's not what he was.

Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that.

Sir?

Forgive me, Father,
for I have sinned.

How long is it since your last
confession?

Help me!

I don't bite.

Not unless I have to.

Right. Let's see what you're
made of.

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
MARS, BRINGER OF WAR

It's a terrible thing to do.

The sooner the better.

Tonight, then.

So I'll be all clear for Friday.

Friday, 3:15...

..when I'll have an excess of joy!

(BEEPS)

(MACHINERY WHIRS AND RUMBLES)

(FINAL CHORDS)

Give yourselves a bravo.

Bravissimo, Malcolm, surely!

Bravissimo!

And, ah, just watch
the penultimate marking.

It's accelerando, not poco piu
mosso, Lady Raeburn.

It's still Gwen to you.

Right. Until tomorrow.

Temple?

Temple!

Temple, have you seen the Master?
He hasn't been home yet.

All right, Babs?

Good morning, Babs.
Morning.

Oops! I'll come back later.
Try knocking next time.

I did, as it happens.
Not loud enough, clearly.

Sorry, Babs.

Don't talk to her like that.

Why not? It's not a mortal sin,
is it?

I am seriously late.

(POLICE RADIO CHATTER)

Professor Andrew Crompton,
Master of Gresham College,

took a tumble and hit his head.

Suspicious? Signs of a struggle
and his face is scratched.

He fell backwards down the stairs,
by the look of it
and bumped his way down.

But the fatal impact was probably
the wound to his right temple.

When he hit the floor? Yes.
I was at Gresham College yesterday.

Practising for your concert?

Rehearsing, yes.
Is there a difference?

What about these scratches?
Someone's clawed at him.

I practise alone.
Together we rehearse.

Attack? Defence?
I'm not Mystic Meg.

More like Acker Bilk.
Who?

He played the clarinet, too.

Back in the olden times.

Well, there certainly was a fight.

What about access?

It's a swipe-card system at street
level. I've asked for the records
for the last 24 hours.

And an entryphone.

What was he doing here?

Sir? This was on the floor
downstairs.

'Angular separation.' Physics?

'Luminosity.' It's astrophysics.

Stargazing.

Next, the thing you've all been
waiting for,

dark matter and black holes.

Oh! Glad you could join us, Jez.

Yeah, sorry.

Can someone lend us some paper?

TV: Police were called to
the observatory when the body was
discovered by a cleaner.

It is understood the death of
Professor Andrew Crompton is being
treated as suspicious.

Mr Temple? The observatory will
remain closed...

Ted? Dr Ransome.

Staff and students affected by
the closure... Who's this?

..are asked to await further
announcements.

Hello, Ted.

He's a naughty, wicked man!

I know all about it.

..Master of Gresham College
since 1997. He was 56.

(GUNSHOT)

Nice one.

Have you heard about Crompton?

What?
He's dead.

When? How?

He fell down the observatory stairs
yesterday and smashed his head.

Thanks.

You liked him, didn't you?
Yeah. And he liked me.

God, that's sad.

I can come back any time,
Mrs Crompton.

Thank you, Mrs Temple.

Let's keep things as normal
as possible, shall we?

Are you all packed for your move?

(CHUCKLES) Nearly.

Roger's very organised.

I imagine he is.
(PHONE RINGS)

Hello?

Thank you, Mr Temple.
Send them over, would you?

It's the police.

Anything you need, you just ask.
All right?

Are we right for the Master's house?

Through the quad.
Thanks.

Was he murdered?
Why do you say that?

I doubt the police would send
a senior detective and a sergeant

for tea and sympathy
after an accident,

and he had no reason to take his own
life, so I'm assuming the
involvement of a third party.

It's a possibility
we have to consider.

Someone killed Andrew?

When did you last see him?

Late afternoon, briefly.

I spent the evening here alone
and I went to bed early.

When I woke up, he hadn't come home.

What would he have been doing
at the observatory?

He was a keen amateur astronomer.
The department kindly let him use
the telescope.

Did he let you know
that's where he'd be last night?

No, but that wasn't unusual.
We weren't joined at the hip.

Can you think of anyone
he might have been meeting?

He preferred his heavenly
contemplations to be solitary.

Do you know anyone who'd want
to hurt him? No.

Might this be his?

It's not his writing.

You'd better ask Gwen Raeburn,
senior lecturer in astrophysics.

That's her.

We spent the occasional weekend
on our narrowboat with the Raeburns.

Cramped but cosy.

Is that Arnold Raeburn, then?
It is.

The composer.

Oh, Raeburn. Right.

We'll keep you informed,
Mrs Crompton.

Arnold Raeburn is the grand old man
of English music.

A national treasure, if it wasn't
for the stubborn atonality of his
later compositions.

Fancy.

(WHISPERS) Oh, Ella...

Gwen Raeburn?
Yes?

We're police officers, looking into
Professor Crompton's death.

Inspector Lewis.
Sergeant Hathaway, Lady Raeburn.

It's unbelievable. Andrew was...

Well, some people are irreplaceable,
aren't they?

We found this in the observatory
and wondered if you'd recognise it.

It's Jez Haydock's.
He's one of my students.

He was missing it earlier.

Do you know where we might find him?

I saw him going out. Would you like
me to give him that back for you?

Temple, sir. Head porter.

You're all right, Mr Temple. If you
do see him, would you give us a call?

Pleased to oblige.

Mr Haydock's an exemplary young man,
if you want my opinion.

I'm not sure that we do, Mr Temple.

No, of course not. Um, excuse me.

Any idea what caused him to fall?
Not yet, no.

Well...goodbye.
Ah...

Oh. Sorry.

You might have told me
she was Lady Raeburn.

It didn't seem important.
No, it wouldn't to you.

But, um...I can give you a clearer
idea when I call.

Fine, Mrs Leeming. Fine.
Right.

'Ello, 'ello, 'ello.

(GLASS CLINKS)

Isobel.

Thank goodness for you two.

We'll postpone the concert,
of course.

Certainly not.

The Planets? How appropriate.

You could give the performance
in his memory.

Good girl.

Do you know anything about
astronomy, sir?

I bet you do.
I don't, as it happens.

Wonders will never cease.

Other than a few obvious snippets.
Copernicus, say, or the revival of
heliocentrism.

It's not all astronomy in here,
anyway.

Listen. 'The splendid sight again
shall greet our distant children's
eyes.'

Perhaps Jez is an aspiring writer.

I wonder if that's what Lady Raeburn
was so interested in when we showed
her it.

You mean Gwen?

You've got a...

Yeah, that's it.

Be honest. You'll never get round
to sorting this lot out yourself,
will you?

Not now.

You're costing us more
from next month, you old sod.

Say something, Dad.

Where's my son?

There's Halley's comet, of course.

Edmond Halley.
He lived in Oxford. New College Lane.

That I didn't know.
Just an obvious snippet.

(MOBILE RINGS)
Yeah. Lewis.

Did he?

Right. Thanks.

We've got a witness. Says he saw
Crompton less than two hours before
we think he died.

One of your lot.

(DOOR OPENS)

Ah...I am running late.

Do you want me to hear your
confession?
Not when I'm on duty, thanks.

He started coming to mass
three months ago.

I noticed him, but I had no idea
who he was till I saw this.

And yesterday was his first
confession? Yes.

What time was that?

Say eight when he arrived.

There were quite a few waiting,

so by the time he left
it would have been around nine.

Did he have much to confess?

A considerable amount, yes...

..which of course I am unable
to share with you.

I understand that.
Thank you.

I'm not sure my Inspector will.
You must explain to him, then,

the difference between
the confessions I hear
and those he does.

Mine are voluntary

and privileged.

Did Professor Crompton say anything
outside of the confessional?

He did say something as he went,

about an excess of joy on Friday.

'On Friday at 3:15,
I'll have an excess of joy.'

Jez?

Jez, what's the matter?

An excess of joy?
What the hell does that mean?

What was he planning on Friday
that was going to make him so joyful?

That's all he said.

I'm running a check on this Jez
Haydock before we speak to him.

Anything?
Jeremy Michael Haydock,

cautioned for cannabis possession
last year, half a joint's worth.

Nothing else.

Crompton must have said more, surely?
Only under the sanctity of
the confessional.

Oh, for crying out loud!
These things matter, sir.

He's completely within his rights.
This is the 21st century.

We're investigating a possible
murder. He's constrained by his
priestly conscience.

If his priestly conscience
obstructs my investigation,
I'll crucify him.

(ALARM BEEP)

You said Jez Haydock's back?

I'll take you over, sir.
Are there developments?

Ah, Mr Finniston? Sir Arnold and
Lady Raeburn are expecting you.

Luncheon at high table.
Yeah, yeah, I know.

And there's post for you.

Here? I'm staying at
the Old Parsonage.

By hand. I didn't see who left it.

Right.

Right.

(PHONE RINGS)
Oh. Excuse me.

Roger Temple.

Mrs Leeming.

Well, it...it's not the best time...

Well, what's that in round figures?

How much?

How was Mrs Crompton
when you saw her, Doctor?

Dr Ransome, Inspector.

Is Mrs Crompton OK?
She's not ill.

I am her GP, but a friend more.
Ella Ransome.

Inspector Lewis, Oxfordshire Police.

Sergeant Hathaway.
Doctor.

Isobel said...

..she said you think Andrew was
murdered.

Would that surprise you?

Yes. Well, yes, of course it would.

If I can help in any way...
Thanks.

Oh, Mr Temple, I wanted to drop by
later and have a word with you
about your father.

Will you both be in?

Any time after seven, Doctor.
This way, gentlemen.

Malcolm Finniston was here in the
1970s and Sir Arnold was his tutor.

Hello?

And now he wants to be top fella
of some big American orchestra.

Yeah, he's in the running for music
director for the Pacific Symphonia.

Sir Arnold's on the board.
How's booking going?

We're very nearly sold out.
Good.

Well, I should hope so.
Don't be so vain!

The Oxford Concert Ensemble
has a very loyal following.

I think you'll have to concede, my
darling, that Malcolm is responsible

at least for some of
the box-office boom.

All right, some.

Jupiter was on the stodgy side
last night. It was only our first
rehearsal with the maestro.

Well, I'll soon gee you up.
The bassoonist wasn't bad.

Is that her boyfriend?

Yes, he's one of my astrophysics lot.

Interesting boy. Devout Catholic,
but, um...a bit uncomfortable in
Oxford.

Please stand.

Benedic, Domine,
dona tua quae de largitate

sumus sumpture, et concede...

Is that today's specials? ..ut illis
salubriter nutriti tibi debitum...

..obsequium praestare valeamus...
Toad in the hole.

..per Christum Dominum nostrum.
Spotted dick.

Amen.
OTHERS: Amen.

I'll fetch Mr Haydock for you.
More discreet.

It's only a glorified canteen,
for God's sake.

Ta. I only realised this morning.

You know about the Master?

Bad, yeah.

You never said where you found this.
You never said where you lost it.

The observatory.
I was there yesterday.

When? Dinner time, latest.
Round half-twelve.

What about last night? Where were
you then? Here, studying.

Are you sure? He called me from
here, if you must know.

And you are?
Kate Cameron.

I'm reading law and my father's
a judge. Bully for him.

So, I know a little about how the
police are meant to behave.

And how's that?

You told them once where you were.

His asking a second time tends
towards oppressive questioning.

Could we have a word, Miss...Cameron?

Jez Haydock? What time was that?

No, no. That's very useful.
Thank you.

What did you say to her?

That she wasn't doing you any favours
with her impression of Lady Muck.

You never! Not in those words,
but she got the message.

You're not doing yourself
any favours either.

Your swipe card was used at the
observatory last night. 10:29, sir.

Which fits the estimated time
of our suspicious death, Jez,

when you and Kate told us
you were here.

I lied.

It's what you do when the bizzies
ask you a question where I'm from.

Kate doesn't know.

What were you doing at
the observatory?

Chatting with Prof Crompton.
I went to fetch a book.

What were you talking about?

The transit of Venus.

When you can see the planet Venus
crossing in front of the sun.

Anything more down-to-earth?

Did he mention something
happening on Friday afternoon?

No.

And it was just you and him there?

Just us, honest.

All right. That's all for now.
Next time we ask you a question,
which we will,

take a tip - don't lie.

Nice T-shirt.

Ta.

Kate, can we speak, please?

There's nothing to say.
Listen to me.

If he loves you, he'll understand.

Well, that's the charity shop stuff
ready to take in the morning.

Can the home do that, just put up
Ted's care fees, just like that?

We'll manage. He's not having
second best. (CAR DRAWS UP)

Mm. That'll be the doctor.

Hello, Doctor. How's my dad?
He's not doing too well, I'm afraid.

Hello, Doctor.
Dad's getting worse.

It's what happens, I'm afraid.

Look, you may find Ted saying...
unpleasant things.

Don't be hurt by them, will you?
Oh...

How do you mean?

This morning he was insisting
that you, Mrs Temple,

had a long-standing sexual
relationship with the Master.

Well... What on earth
put that idea into his head?

The wires get crossed,
is the best way of explaining it.

Ah. Thanks, Doctor.
Thank you for telling us.

Um, we...we must get on.

Yeah.

Goodbye.

(LAUGHS)
Oh, don't.

It's horrible!

No, Dad's right!

Crompton was having bit of naughty
on the side, but not with you, dear.

I know it wasn't, thank you.

Isn't she lucky Dad's confused?
What? The Master and Dr Ransome?

I've seen them at it, sort of.

I should tell the police.

Why do you always have to get
involved with everything?

Duty, sense of.

I'll pop that stuff along to the
charity shop now and leave it
on the doorstep.

Save time in the morning.

'Thy return Posterity shall witness.

Years must roll away,
but then at length...

..the splendid sight again shall
greet our distant children's eyes.'

(POLICE SIREN)

What makes someone turn to religion?

Imminent death?
There is that.

But Professor Crompton didn't know
he'd be pushed down those stairs.

Did his wife know
he'd started attending St Anne's?

We'll be asking her and talking to
some close friends of theirs, too
- the Raeburns.

So, he used his swipe card
to enter the observatory at 9:30,

Jez Haydock uses his
round about an hour later,

then no other card holders

between Professor Crompton arriving
and his body being discovered.

No, but there's also an entryphone,
so either of them could have buzzed
someone up.

Any useful DNA or prints?
No matches on either.

There's a Gwen Raeburn here
with a swipe card.

Is she one of the friends? Yeah.
Senior lecturer on Jez's course.

And what do we make of Jez?

Well, I reckon he's just a nice lad,

trying his best...probably.

'Certainly' would be better.
Ma'am.

Try to understand, please.

Just go, yeah?

Who told you?

Can't I just explain?
Don't waste your breath.

Go on. Go.

If you won't...

Jez!

All right?
Morning.

Jez, hold on a minute.

Good for him. Narrow escape.
What?

Ah, it's just...her type, you know?

No Mr Temple today? Hasn't turned up.
Don't know where he's got to.

Shame. We're really going
to miss him. Sir.

# MENDELSSOHN:
SONG WITHOUT WORDS

Oh. How dreadful, Mrs Temple.

Yes, I quite understand.

Yes. Goodbye.

Our head porter was mugged
last night.

Oh? We didn't hear anything
about that.

He wasn't badly hurt, so he got
himself home and didn't bother
to report it.

Have you news?
Just more questions, I'm afraid.

Fire away.

Did you know your husband
had been attending St Anne's church?

Church? Andrew? I think not.
He was most definitely lapsed.

Well, according to the priest,
he'd been going there regularly for
the last three months.

Oh.

So, that's where he disappeared to.

Dear me!

I'd started to think he was having
an affair, but that's where he was.

Why, though?
I was hoping you might know.

I can't help you.
It's a complete surprise.

Had he mentioned anything
about this Friday afternoon?

An appointment specifically, at 3:15?
No.

I'm going to miss him like hell.

(FINAL NOTES)

Thank you for waiting!
It was easy, sir.

That's a favourite piece of Andrew's
we'll be playing at his memorial,

although we're a little bit rusty
performing together.

I understand you and the Master
were very close
and Mrs Crompton, too.

Oh, Lord, we all go back
a frighteningly long way.

Arnold and I met and married
when I was a very junior lecturer.

In fact, it was the Master
who introduced us.

Andrew was the most marvellous man,
you know.

He was so good with all
the undergraduates.

And of course his passion for
astronomy endeared him to me.

Would you say it was
a happy marriage? Why?

I understand they're your friends,
but it's something we have to ask.

Rock solid.

Boringly so.
Like us!

And just for the record -
Tuesday night, you were where?

You mean you want our alibis?

At home, together, after rehearsals.

TV and takeaway.

Thai.
He's mad for his sticky rice.

Incidentally, did you ever reunite
Jez and his notebook?

Sorry, but, Arnold,
we're awaited by a media frenzy.

Oh, Lord, yes.

Local TV are doing us...live,
so there's no way out of it.

Gwennie, darling, come along.

We did, yeah.

Did what?

Return Jez's book to him.

Oh! Good.

Lucky getting Malcolm Finniston
for your concerts.

Arnold nurtured his talent
as his student.

Malcolm's simply returning
the favour.

Ooh! Nice surprise.

Is Roger here?
Won't be long.

Coming in?
Ta.

What is it?

Want some home cooking?

..and Isobel Crompton has insisted

that we go ahead with the concert
in memory of her late husband.

The Master, you know,
was a very special man to all of us.

Indeed. Now, Sir Arnold, both you
and Lady Raeburn

knew Mr Finniston more
than a quarter of a century ago.

A quarter of a century?

25 years sounds kinder!
Much kinder.

And you're off soon to Seattle
to take over the baton, so to speak,
of the Pacific Symphonia?

Well, that's yet to be confirmed...

Thieves. Robbers. Burglars!
Burglars.

Robbers, thieves. Robbers! Burglars!

Naughty! Wicked!
I know all about it. Ted!

Ted!
Police!

How serious do you think
Mrs Crompton was about the Master
having an affair?

I'm not sure.

You're wondering if Gwen Raeburn's
tears were for more than just
an old friend?

Mm-hm.

There's definitely something in that
notebook. She asked me whether we'd
returned it to Jez.

I should have thought. Don't worry,
sir. I did. I ran off a copy.

You're not so green
as you're cabbage-looking, are you?

What?

Tell me if you think this is
a really, really bad idea...

What do you take me for?
Undercover clarinet?

I'm too busy getting notes in
the right order to spy for you.

Not spy, Laura.

Just keep your eyes open.
And your ears.

Oh, ears too now, is it?

Have you got your tickets yet?

For the performance?

It's in a good cause.

So, that's um...two each...

..top price?
Done.

Quite.

(ORCHESTRA TUNES UP)

Stolen, Mrs Leeming?

What does he think is missing?

Can I get back to you?

All in order?
Yep.

That eye looks tasty. I heard you got
in a spot of bother last night.

Oh, it was a couple of kids.
They wanted my phone.

So, I told them to P off
and one of them threw a lucky punch.

But they didn't take it?

Eh?
Your phone.

Oh, they sort of melted off into
the dark after they'd walloped me.

Do you not want to report it?

No, it was something and nothing.

Up to you.

Bye, gentlemen.

Temple would dial 999 if he saw a kid
riding a bike on the pavement.

Maybe he was embarrassed.
It's his lookout.

(GUNSHOT)

(PHONE BEEPS)

Malcolm, do you have a second?

Um...yeah. Yeah.

I don't know what you feel about...

Roger's ever so grateful
to the Master for nudging us up
the waiting list for the flat.

Andrew was very fond of
your husband.

I'll save on fares
so close to college

and every penny counts now,
with Ted.

Oh, poor old Ted.

It must be difficult.

It's not him any more.

He looks the same, but it's not him.

Has the police come up with
anything?

Only questions. No answers.

Dr Ransome's coming over.

Well, you need friends
at a time like this.

Yes...

And the thing with Ella is,
selfishly...

she's my friend,
not Andrew's and mine.

They scarcely knew each other...

..which means her grief is for me,
not him,

if that makes sense.

I expect so.

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
JUPITER, BRINGER OF JOLLITY

No, stop! Stop stop stop!
Will you play it? Don't scratch it.

It all sounded splendid to me,
Malcolm.

Well, with respect, Arnold,
you're there and I'm here.

Right. The anacrusis, please,
eight bars after andante maestoso.

And this is Jupiter, the Bringer of
Jollity, so jolly up, please,
for God's sake, all of you.

Hi, Toby.
Dr Ransome.

(LOW CONVERSATION)

Apologies, Arnold.
Apology accepted.

Oh, Gwen?

I did call you, by the way,
to see about dinner.

Oh, Sorry about that. I turned
my phone off. I didn't realise
till later.

I also called your room.

Reception said you weren't
answering. Well, I was there.

Gwen?

Are you OK, Kate?
No.

What is it?
Look.

It's a bluff, isn't it?
Well, how do I know?

Do something!
I can't...

Hi.
Hi, Gwen.

(WHISPERING)

I'm back!

Darling?

Darling?

(GUNSHOT)

(GUNSHOT)

(GASPING)

It's all right. It's all right.

Ambulance! Call an ambulance!

According to my watch,
life was extinct at 3:48.

And you didn't see anyone?
No, only the Master's wife.

Whoever did it must have run back
through and left the other way
as I went in.

There was a door open.

The room's unoccupied. We think they
must have hid there and waited.

I'll get you a lift home.

I'm fine.
I'm not arguing.

Can you take Dr Hobson home, John?

Any sign of a weapon?
Well, we know what it was.

Two spent cartridges, .22 calibre.
Small bore.

There's a gun club in the basement.
A what?

It's not exactly Fort Knox.

Sir.
Everything's still in place.

So, it was one of those fired
the shots and then the killer
put it back?

So it would seem.
I've alerted Ballistics.

Mm. OK, lads.

What about access to the gun store?
This lock's not been forced.

Well, officially, keys are kept
by designated gun club officers

and then signed out to members
who want to use the range.

And unofficially?
Membership's a short-term thing.

Students come and go,
keys are lost, forgotten, replaced.

So, there could be several of them
floating about from over the years.

Is there an official spare set?

Porter's lodge.

If getting hold of the weapon was
easy,

the killer still had to come down
a corridor, or across a quad,
past windows,

in broad daylight, carrying a rifle,
without being noticed.

I mean, how the hell
would you do that?

Here comes our little helper.

Inspector?
Mr Temple.

I...I could have some information
for you, sir.

Ah, Terence, would you give us
a few moments, please?

Of course.
Thank you.

Dr Ransome had a secret

and so did the Master.

Their secret was each other.

What, they were having an affair?

I found out by accident.

Three months back, the Master asked
me to call him a taxi
for the station.

This was in front of Mrs Crompton.

But I knew the driver and he told me
that actually the Master went to
Dr Ransome's flat.

Hardly proof of an affair,
Mr Temple.

She picked him up in her car once
when he told Mrs Crompton he was
lecturing.

And Tuesday afternoon, I saw them
coming out of his boat together.

Tuesday?
That night...dead.

And now, so's Dr Ransome.

I got you a cheese and pickle, Rog,
what with all this going on.

Thanks, dear.
My wife, Babs. She scouts here.

We saw you yesterday
when we wanted Mrs Crompton.

That's it.

Did you see or hear anything
when Dr Ransome was shot?

Well, I heard the kerfuffle.

I was cleaning my nephew's room.

(TUTS)
Oh, sorry. It just slipped out.

Your nephew?

Jeremy Haydock.

Jez's mum's Babs' sister,
but we don't say.

Why not?
I don't think it matters, but Rog...

You know what they're like,
some of them.

He'd never hear the end of it if
they knew his auntie and uncle
were college servants.

We liked Dr Ransome.
She was very good with Ted.

My dear old dad.
He was head porter here before me.

Dr Ransome was the GP
at his care home.

Is there anything else?

No. Thanks.

You must sign that tenancy today.

I will. Panic ye not.

We're moving into a college flat
next week, going up in the world.

The Master fixed it for us.

About the spare set of keys
for the rifle range...

I thought you'd ask that.

I keep them locked up.

Spare keys to the door
and to the gun store.

Are the two killings linked or is
this head porter letting his
imagination run away with him?

In my experience,
head porters don't need imagination.

They've a nose for unfortunate
secrets.

Oh? What did they catch you at, then?
Nothing.

You must have been
a very well-behaved student, James.

Or very lucky.
Just careful.

Rifle club membership list.

Anyone of interest?
Kate Cameron.

That's Jez Haydock's girlfriend?
Yeah.

Isobel Crompton.
Oh.

So, if Temple's right, that puts her
in the frame for both murders,

as the betrayed and vengeful wife.

I suppose it's possible
she could have fired off the shots,

then rushed back to make it look like
she'd just come out of her house,

but the timing'd be tight. Plus,
she'd have had to return the rifle.

That's what I don't get.
No-one noticed.

Could she have been at the
observatory on Tuesday night?

She doesn't have an alibi,
but the only person we can place at
the scene is Jez

and he did lie to us.

People obstruct the police
for all sorts of reasons.

Like your priest, for example.
My priest?

Yeah. If he'd tell us what was going
on in Crompton's mind,

we might be getting somewhere.
Now, boys...

I never knew Dr Ransome.

She was the college doctor.
And I'm dead healthy.

Look, you can see where we're coming
from, can't you, Jez?

You lied to us about being at
the observatory. I explained that.

You didn't tell us you were related
to Mr and Mrs Temple.

You didn't ask.

You still kept it a secret.

Only cos Rog wanted me to.

Is there anything else you're not
telling us?

Where were you when Dr Ransome was
killed?

Just walking...thinking.

Well, that's hardly an alibi.

Why do I need an alibi
when I haven't even got a motive?

(SIGHS) What really happened
to the Master, Jez?

Maybe he just fell.

How long had you known Dr Ransome?

Ten years, since she became my GP
and then my friend.

And your husband?

He'd met her a few times through me,
but she wasn't his doctor. Why?

When I said he'd been visiting
St Anne's, you said you wondered if
he'd been having an affair.

I wasn't being serious.

In any case, he hardly knew
Ella Ransome.

And she wasn't the sort.

Now if you'd said Gwen Raeburn,
that might have been a different
matter.

Might it? She had quite a reputation
in the old days.

But Andrew wasn't having an affair,
was he?

Unless you count Mother Church
as the other woman.

Um, since you're here,
perhaps I should report something.

I'm sure someone's been in.

May I?
Of course.

Andrew's books have been disturbed.

Nothing's missing,
as far as I can tell.

Sir, that writing in Jez's notebook
is from a poem.

'Thy return Posterity shall witness.

Years must roll away,
but then at length

The splendid sight again shall greet
our distant children's eyes.'

Jeremiah Horrocks,
On the Transit of Venus.

Can we borrow this?

Bedtime reading.

And full of astronomical snippets.

What is it you're performing,
The Planets? That's right.

One of them's not Venus
by any chance, is it?

Second movement,
Venus, the Bringer of Peace.

Why?
Wish I knew.

Thanks.

Kate Cameron, apparently, was very
angry just before the shooting.

Angry or desperate. When I asked her
what was wrong, she just walked out.

Well, she'd just had a bust-up
with Jez. We saw that.

And what about Lady Raeburn?

You mean Gwen? She's very
down-to-earth.

Hates people using her title.
Good for her.

Well, she left rehearsal in a bit of
a state, too, just before Kate.

But I sort of know what that was
about.

A text that Finniston received.
Seemed to upset both of them.

Finniston goes way back
with the Cromptons and the Raeburns.

I don't suppose you...

How on earth would I know
what the text was about...

..unless I managed to snaffle
Finniston's phone for a second
when he left it lying around,

scrolled through to the message,
made a note of it and the number
it came from?

Genius.
Seconded.

'Revenge is sweet.'

077900458.

(MOBILE RINGS)

Oh, it's yours, Temple!

Good night, Mrs Crompton.

Roger Temple. Hello? Hello?

All ready for tonight?

Well, just one final rehearsal
to iron out any remaining nasties.

Don't you think, darling?
Yes.

Are you finished, sir?

Not quite, I hope.

Do I detect an atmosphere?

Yesterday's tragic shooting,
following so swiftly
after Andrew Crompton's death,

has threatened to knock us all
for six.

Ah, however, I know that you will
all rise to the occasion,

and make this evening's performance
something really to be remembered.

Now, Malcolm would like a word with
you, wouldn't you, Malcolm?

For personal reasons
and at short notice,

I am to be denied the pleasure
of conducting this fine orchestra.

Events sometimes overtake one.

However, I'm sure you will rise
to the occasion

under the baton of the grand old man
of English music.

Not so much of the old, Malcolm.

Now...

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
MARS, THE BRINGER OF WAR

Morning, sir.

Good read?
Instructive.

The transit of Venus was first
predicted and observed by this
Jeremiah Horrocks in 1639,

which is a tiny coincidence,
if nothing else. Is it?

The names.
Jeremiah Horrocks, Jeremy Haydock.

Well, stretching a point.

And Horrocks was a chippy
working-class student
astronomer...from Liverpool.

Was he?

Studied at Cambridge though,
not Oxford. Nobody's perfect.

What did Crompton say in the church?

'Friday at 3:15, I shall have
an excess of joy.'

Look at this that he's marked.

It's Horrocks's description of
a friend of his watching Venus
cross the sun.

'He stood for some time, motionless,

scarcely trusting his own senses,
through excess of joy.'

With the head porter looming large
on your radar,

I wondered if this might be
of interest.

It's a call logged yesterday
about a theft at Branksfield
sheltered accommodation.

The complainant's a Ted Temple. Ah.
That's Roger Temple's dear old dad.

Have we attended, ma'am?

On two priority points out of ten?
What do you think?

I think we should top up the points.
Thanks, ma'am.

You remembered some photos?

No, Doctor. No, I'm...I'm not
a doctor. I said before.

Dr Ransome's not here.

No. Dr Ransome,
she...can't come today.

Should I tell the Master's wife?

Tell her what, Ted?

About Marilyn Monroe.

Look...
Yeah.

Bye, Ted.

Thanks.

Because Ted said the photos were
stolen, they had to call us,

but they found it was just
Roger Temple having a clear-out
of a cupboard.

(MOBILE RINGS)
Family snaps or what?

It's Hobson. Hello?

Well, did he say why?

OK. Thanks.

Arnold Raeburn's just given
Malcolm Finniston the heave-ho
from the podium.

Bad feeling all round.

You said head porters had a nose
for unfortunate secrets.

Like father, like son?

There you are, sir.
Who's your date for tonight?

My date? The Chief Super. Yours?
No takers.

We know how to live, don't we?

Mr Finniston?

Isn't it a bit late in the day
to be changing conductors?

Well, that's showbiz, as I've been
explaining to Mrs Crompton,

although I think she's secretly
rather pleased Arnold's taken over.

Do you remember the head porter here
when you were an undergraduate,
Ted Temple?

His son's the head porter now.
Yes.

I never went to university,
but my sergeant here tells me

head porters pick up all sorts of
tittle-tattle.

I had um...a one-night thing
with a newly married lecturer.

Gwen Raeburn.

And we took some rather explicit
souvenir photos, that went missing
from my room.

Did Ted Temple steal them,
by any chance?

That's what I suspected,

but it was the last day of finals,
too late to do anything about,

too soon to be worth Ted's while
to blackmail me.

Until his son got his hands on them.
Yes.

The night before last I gave him
a black eye instead of the money
he wanted

and took the photos back.

Unfortunately, he'd held on
to a couple and passed them
to Arnold in revenge.

And that's why he's conducting
tonight?

Mm. And won't be endorsing
my appointment as music director of
the Pacific Symphonia.

But it was 30 years ago.

Hold on, please, Mr Temple.

'Perks of the job?'

Do you know how much college
servants get paid? Babs is near
enough on minimum wage.

You're on a better whack.
Just.

In Dad's time there wasn't even
such a thing as a minimum wage.

You had to come to a beneficial
arrangement with the undergrads

and turn a blind eye to their
naughties or you'd never make
a decent living.

That depends on your definition of
'decent'.

Why did the Master fix it for you
to get a college flat? They're like
gold dust, those tenancies.

He valued my loyal service.

And did he value your beneficial
arrangement,

keeping quiet
about seeing him with Ella Ransome?

It's too late to prove that now.

What happened at that observatory?

Did you ask him for money as well as
the flat? Did he get angry with you?

No!

I didn't kill him.
I was on duty all evening.

You can check.
We know we can.

Is Finniston pressing charges?

Probably not. Pity, though.

Can I go?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Do we wait for him?

No. We find him.
Friday, 3:15.

Whatever Crompton expected to happen
in half-an-hour's time,

I'll take an educated guess
it was happening at the observatory.

(BEEPS)

(CAR HORNS)

Broken-down lorry.
Quicker to walk?

No, let's stay put.
I think it's clearing.

(BUZZER)

Hello?

Good call, James.
Thank you, sir.

Ten past three.

What's going on?

We're waiting for Venus
to cross the sun,

in the shape of a little black dot
that will appear on that card.

What, at 3:15?

Jeremiah Horrocks established
the transit of Venus occurs twice
in eight years,

every 122 years.

The next transit of Venus
isn't due for a good two years.

Why are you here, then?

Andrew developed a...

..an eccentric theory, that
Horrocks's predictions were flawed.

It's like a debt of honour to
the Master, cos we loved the guy.

Come on. Come on!

It's not going to happen, you know.
No.

It never could, Jez.
You know the science.

So that's what you were looking for
on the narrowboat?
Andrew Crompton's theory?

Yes.

Because you'd already spotted
something in Jez's notebook.

Me and him had done some
calculations, kept it private. I
didn't want people laughing at him.

It was only me he trusted.

He thought I were...
He sort of thought I were...

Jeremiah Horrocks all over again.
Kind of.

The reincarnation of a 17th-century
astronomer?

Yeah. Dead crazy, I know.

He was losing his mind.

No.
Yes.

It was so sad.

So sad. I didn't want to believe it
at first, but there's no other way
to explain it.

Come on, Jez.

Crompton's wires were crossed,
like Ted Temple's.

That's why he was seeing Dr Ransome
in secret.

Not because they were lovers,
but because he realised
he was losing his mind.

Get on to Dr Ransome's health centre,
see what they knew.

Dr Magnani, neurologist at the
Radcliffe, Crompton's consultant.
He's free now.

All right. I think I'll walk it.

Hope you remember
where you left the car.

Do you ever think you're in
Disneyland here?
Like it's not real?

On a good day.

Have you always been into planets
and stars and that?

Since I was a kid.

Dad said, 'Look at the Man in the
Moon!' I said, 'That's not a man,
it's mountains.'

He must be proud.

He hopped it when I was six.

Ironic, Mam says.

Her, the steady sister, marries
a chancer and wild child Babs ends
up with boring old Rog.

I thought Rog was mad when he said
not to let on I was family,

but after a week I saw I was better
off keeping my mouth shut.

It's still a bit snobby, Oxford.
But it's getting better.

No, that's OK.
It's just Rog is a prat.

I don't need the association,
know what I mean?

Babs is different.

What about Kate?

The Creature from Planet Posh?

You had a bust-up yesterday.

The big one.

Why?

Oh, God.

Why, Jez? Eh?

Cos she's a killer.

His delusion about Jez
and the transit of Venus...

not just a harmless eccentricity?

He had a brain tumour. It was that.

The test results came in
on the Monday

and we think Dr Ransome told him
the following day.

Perhaps that's what she wanted to
see me about when she was shot.

Did she say she was coming
for something in particular?

No, just to see me.

But...thinking back, she did ask me
if there was going to be anyone else
around,

as if she wanted to tell me
something.

It explains the church, too.

This priest.

What's his name?
Father Francis.

What's he like?
I only met him once.

I hope he's kind.

Here are the details of Dr Magnani.

He's more than happy
for you to go and speak with him.

Did he say what would have happened
to Andrew if he hadn't been killed?

The tumour was aggressive and
advanced.

Inoperable.

In a very strange way,
that's a comfort.

(MOBILE RINGS)

I'm so...sorry, Mrs Crompton.

Rather embarrassing for you, sir?
'Rather embarrassing'?

That's like saying Mozart was
rather promising.

To be...

..cuckolded, three months into
one's marriage, by one's protege,

and only finding out about it
30 years later,

when I am sent the gruesome details
by a failed blackmailer.

Still, I...I've made my peace
with Gwen.

Mr Finniston says
you've blocked his new post.

I'll let him think so for a while,

but I can't really, without
the other members of the board
asking awkward questions.

But I'm here
because of the shooting yesterday.

When I filled in the um...witness
questionnaire,

I was so upset...

..that I neglected to say something
which may be of importance.

What's that?

Just before Dr Ransome was killed,

I saw her arguing with someone
in the orchestra.

Who?
The bassoon.

The name? Um, Kate Cameron.
She's an undergraduate.

We know Miss Cameron.

She was already angry
before she left the rehearsal,
according to Dr Hobson.

Think Jez is serious about her being
a killer? He wasn't joking.

Here we are. Kate Cameron.

'I left rehearsal and went straight
to my room. I did not see Dr Ransome
or anyone else.'

We've got a full house, apparently.
Excellent.

I managed to sell four.
Top price, too. Good girl!

Oh, excuse me a minute.

Do you know where Kate is?
She hasn't arrived yet.

Oh...break a leg, if that's what
they say. I don't think they do.

I'll wait outside.

I didn't know you came here.

I don't,

under normal circumstances.

I feel so empty, Mrs Temple.

I don't know what I'll do.

(DOOR OPENS)

I was pleased that your husband
had decided to return to the Church.

Don't take this the wrong way,
Father, but...he wasn't in
his right mind.

He had a brain tumour.

You knew?

What else did he tell you,
that he didn't tell me?

I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to
reveal what the penitent may confess.

'The penitent'?

He was my husband.

I'm sorry.

Look, there she is. Kate?

Sorry. What?

You filled in a witness
questionnaire after Dr Ransome
was shot. Yes.

You said you went straight to your
room after rehearsal,

and didn't speak to anybody.
So?

You were seen arguing with
Dr Ransome.

Who saw me?

Why did you lie?
I was upset.

About splitting up with Jez?
Yeah.

What's that got to do with
Dr Ransome?

C-Can we go somewhere?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Father Francis for you, ma'am.

Just before term started...
I had an abortion.

Jez wouldn't have liked that.
Is that why he finished with you?

He said I'd killed his unborn child.

Wonderful, isn't it, how people pick
and mix morality to suit themselves?

Sex outside marriage, whoopee!

But when it comes to dealing with
the consequences...

Yeah.

Here, Kate.

Did Dr Ransome arrange this
termination?

Yeah.

She said I should tell Jez,
that it was the right thing to do,
but I didn't want to.

I knew how he'd be.

So, how did he find out?

He wouldn't say.

I thought Dr Ransome had gone ahead
and told him without asking me.

That's why I was angry.
But...she denied it.

I was so horrible to her

and then she was killed.

And then I realised I was wrong
and she didn't tell Jez.

How do you know?

There was a letter from her
with the appointment.

I'd tucked it in a book
and forgotten it, but today
I noticed it somewhere else.

Jez must have found it.

Who cleans your room, Kate?

What?
Who's your scout?

Is it Mrs Temple?
Yeah.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Kate, time to go!
I'm coming.

Yeah, go on.

I'll have that back, though.
Come on!

You think Mrs Temple found
the letter and told Jez?

I reckon.

Why not Jez himself?
Why wouldn't he say?

If he was angry and finishing
the relationship anyway,

he'd hardly be worried
about admitting he'd been snooping.

Point is, was he angry enough?

To shoot an abortionist?
This is Oxford, England,
not Oxford, Mississippi.

(MOBILE RINGS)

Hm. Yes, ma'am?

OK. We'll meet you
by the porter's lodge.

Here will we sit and let the sounds
of music creep in our ears

Soft stillness and the night

Become the touches of sweet harmony.

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
MARS, BRINGER OF WAR

This is Inspector Lewis.

Have you decided to co-operate
at last, sir? Well done.

Inspector.
Thank you for coming, Father.

Are you going to tell me
what Andrew Crompton said?

No. But what I can tell you is that
Jez Haydock came to see me...
for advice.

Jez?

He overheard an argument
that night in the observatory.

I told him to follow his conscience.

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
JUPITER, BRINGER OF JOLLITY

Jez must be here somewhere.

You disgusting waste of space!

Get off me!

He's the one!

I'm warning you, Mr Finniston,
make yourself scarce.

There.

Jez!

Tell them what you told me
about the Master and your aunt.

# HOLST: THE PLANETS,
VENUS, BRINGER OF PEACE

Here. See what I mean?

It would have been
the next best thing to invisible.

Stand the rifle up in there,
maybe chuck a cloth over it,

it wouldn't get a second glance.

Neither would she.

Mrs Temple?

Just a sec, if it's all the same.

Gun club.
Luckily with no guns.

Ah...
Ma'am?

Forensics are done, so I authorised
their return. I'll get backup.

Oh, no, no. No, Mrs Temple, not that.

I've had enough.

Jez can explain.

He can't tell us everything.

I can try and work it out,
but I don't want to get it wrong.

That wouldn't be fair to
Mrs Crompton.

Thanks. OK, OK.

Did you find the spare key
to the gun store?

Yeah.

You and the Master?

Years.

Since like back when
Ted Temple was the head porter?

Mm. Yeah.

I never knew old Ted knew. He must
have seen Andy and me together.

Andy thought I was lovely...

..and exciting.

You knew about his tumour?

Mm.

When he touched me, it was getting
harder to feel me.
That's how he put it.

And then these odd ideas he kept
having... He knew they were daft.

Tuesday afternoon,

Dr Ransome told him there was
nothing more the hospital could do
for him.

Out, please.
No. He can stay.

Father Francis told Andy
that he should clear the slate,

so...he said he was going to tell
his wife everything

and just be with her
and not with me.

I couldn't take it.

So, what happened?

I hung on to him.

And he tried to get me off him
and then he was just falling down
the stairs and...

Did you tell them you came
to the observatory to get a book
and heard us arguing?

Yeah. I should have let you own up,
like you wanted.

But I said don't, because...

..she didn't mean to kill him,
so it's not murder, right?

Did she tell you she killed
Dr Ransome?

What?

Why?

Well...

Rog said it was his duty to tell
the police about her and Andrew.

You knew we'd question her
and she'd deny it,

but she might put two and two
together?

Mm. Especially after what Ted told
her about Andy and me.

So, I phoned her up to see what she
knew and...and out it all came.

And she said she was going to have
to tell you and...

..and Mrs Crompton.

So...you stopped her.

Andy thought you were ever such
a clever boy, with all your stars
and planets.

Come on.

Time to go, eh?

Yeah.

I've had enough.

Tell your mum sorry.
No!

Bravo!
Bravo!

(SOBBING)

(POLICE SIREN)

Well?
She'll live.

Thanks to Hathaway.

James?

Robbie will sort him out.

(CAR DOOR SLAMS)

Ready to go?
Yeah. We're fine.

I was looking forward
to that concert.

Do you think we'll be able to get
our money back?

Worth a try.

Although, actually,
I'm more of a Wagner man myself,

especially if the conductor's
K-nappertsbusch.

Bless you.

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