All language subtitles for Miss.Fishers.Murder.Mysteries.S02E08.The.Blood.of.Juana.the.Mad.NF.WEBRip.CC.en

The next generation of bright,

shiny new things.

When are you going to contribute

to the gene pool, Mac?

This is my contribution,

Professor.

May I remind you

gentlemen, and ladies,

the Medical Prize examination

is this afternoon at 2pm sharp.

Very sharp.

We have, alas,

a depressingly young subject

for our final revision lecture

on human musculature

and articulation.

Female, 32 years of age,

cause of death,

post-natal hemorrhage.

It's Professor Katz.

BOY: Beatrice?

Where're you going, Beatrice?

Betty Boo?

Wait for us. Look at her go.

Poor Prof.

Eh? Beatrice?

It's on! It's on!

Back off!

- Any idea what happened?

- There was a mix up.

My senior students

asked for revision

so I went down to the furnace

this morning

to retrieve what I thought

was a 32-year-old woman.

It turned out to be

Professor Katz instead.

He was well respected

in the fraternity,

if a little eccentric.

He knew his medicine inside out.

Hello, Jack.

I didn't realize you were

on this case, Miss Fisher.

Likewise.

- I could have left it to you.

- No, you couldn't.

I called you both in because

I want you to work together.

I need this case solved.

Phryne Fisher,

Professor Bradbury.

Dean of Medicine

and Head of Jude's College.

Delighted to meet any man who

can inspire Elizabeth MacMillan.

Pity the occasion is so tragic.

You said Professor Katz

was left in the holding annex

of the furnace.

Who would have had access?

Apart from the staff, we kept

a key in the cabinet over there.

It's missing.

I'd appreciate it if you could

assemble your senior students

for some

preliminary questioning.

Yes, of course.

Just a minute.

What's going on?

I need to know his routine,

who was last seen with him--

With you and Jack Robinson.

- That might take a while.

- The short version.

He had a nasty scare.

Thought I'd killed myself

in a car accident.

Now he thinks

I'm too much trouble.

- You are.

- So he's running scared.

Coward.

Macabre turn of events,

Inspector.

But the only one that isn't here

is the one

you should be talking to.

And who's that?

Beatrice Mason.

Mad as a March hare.

I'm happy to start with you,

Mr Oliver.

Me? I may have glued a wig

to Paracelsus's bust,

but even I wouldn't pull

something like this.

And I certainly wouldn't have

killed the old coot first.

So you're Professor Bradbury's

research assistant?

Yes, his field of specialization

is Anthropometry,

the study of human proportions.

- Measuring people?

- More or less.

Whenever you're ready,

Mr Street.

Where could I find Professor

Katz's office?

- Far end of the east wing.

- Thank you.

Inspector. I thought you had

students to interrogate.

I have men to help with that.

Then I fear we're headed

for the same destination.

I'll keep my distance.

Why don't you walk

two steps behind?

I need the book.

I'm Katz's research assistant.

I have all my notes

but I still need the book.

Can you please let me in?

This office is now

part of a police investigation.

Detective Inspector Robinson.

We're here on police business.

Can you let me get into there

so I can get the book, please?

- I can't work without it.

- Excuse me, Miss--

(screams)

Don't touch me.

Phryne Fisher.

Lady Detective. Why do we need

the police as well?

That's a very good question,

Miss...?

Mason. Beatrice.

If you could just step aside,

please, Miss Mason?

Professor Katz didn't

allow anyone in his office

when he wasn't present.

Given that Katz

is no longer with us,

perhaps his rules

no longer apply.

The Inspector is here

to look after his interests.

If you could just stay

with Constable Collins, please.

Thank you.

Looks like

we just missed somebody.

That picture's crooked.

Miss! Miss! Miss, Miss!

Miss! Miss!

That's where

Katz locked up his book.

It must have

been extremely valuable.

The Book of Hours

of Juana the Mad.

It's a 16th-century

illustrated manuscript.

It was Katz's most prized

possession,

but he... he locked it up

because we disagreed.

About what?

He said he found it

in a monastery in Catalonia,

but I found modern restorations,

altered text and new ink.

I think that's why

he was mad at me.

It's a rotation combination,

and Katz liked to change it

every day.

Geoffrey Spall,

College Treasurer.

And the safe, Mr Spall?

I warned Katz it was merely

an analogue problem,

easily surmounted by

the most amateur mathematician.

Perhaps I can help.

I'm not a mathematician,

Mr Spall,

but I have mastered

the art of listening...

...very closely.

Two tumblers... shifting...

and... falling...

and...

open sesame.

The Book of Hours.

Where's the rest?

It's empty.

Miss...

Beatrice?

Are you alright?

It's too much.

Too many people.

People are confusing.

Yes, they are.

What's that?

More blood.

BEATRICE: Oh, the splashes

are getting larger.

So whoever was leaving them

was going towards the office

rather than away from it.

Inspector!

They keep going.

It's still not a lot of blood,

given the method of murder.

Now... these would be

extremely sharp.

- Collins!

- BEATRICE: There are more!

- Sir?

- I want this area roped off.

- Eugh!

- We need the blood for testing.

Then come and sort out

that young girl.

Yes, sir. Uh!

If you'd could just

wait there please, Mr Spall.

This must be where it happened.

Somehow the body went from here

to the anatomy furnace.

To be burned at nine o'clock

in the morning.

If not for Dr MacMillan needing

a cadaver at short notice,

Katz would have disappeared off

the face of the earth.

After he was exsanguinated,

into the garden.

That's my clinical observation.

Right here.

Ah, Miss Mason, if...

If you'd just like to step away.

Perhaps we could find somewhere

for you to clean your shoes.

Oh.

Jack?

Good catch.

Just in here will be fine.

The Vice Dean's away

on a sabbatical.

Is there anyone we can call?

She'd be happier at home.

No, no, no, it's fine. It's

happened before. She'll recover.

Hugh, you might like to do

something with these.

Sir, Professor Bradbury's asked

to see you in the dining room.

- And file this as evidence.

- Yes, sir.

I might just go hunt down

a pot of tea.

You might like to follow

that young man first, Collins.

Charlie Street?

Yes. See what he just slipped

into his pocket.

- How did I get here?

- You fainted.

Oh, my things. Wh-who...

Who touched my blanket?

And... and there was blood.

There was blood on my skin!

It's alright. It's fine.

It's gone now.

Everything's fine.

- Don't be afraid, it's dead.

- They're always dead.

I'm not afraid.

I just feel bad for the rats.

How often

does this happen, Beatrice?

Whenever Oliver feels like it.

There's no pattern.

Can you pass me a bin, please?

Where do you live, Beatrice?

I leased a flat in Carlton,

but I had to vacate.

Why?

They said I started a fire

in the kitchen

because I left

the oven on, but I didn't.

And women aren't allowed to

reside at the college, are they?

No. But sometimes I lie down

here and close my eyes.

It's better this way.

It allows me more time

for my research and...

And it's further away from the

street, so no one can watch me.

Who would be watching you?

I've never seen them.

Good God.

These Katana were a gift to

the college from the Japanese.

The most brilliant

mathematicians.

Turned out to be a much more

practical gift than intended.

Spall said the safe

was completely empty?

That's right.

Any idea what Professor Katz

kept in there?

Well, I know he had the exhibit

for the half yearly exam.

He'd put the skull in there

for safe keeping.

He locked up a skull?

You're not in short supply.

Well, I realize

they may all look the same

to your womanly gaze,

Miss Fisher,

but I assure you

they're completely different.

The students have to make

clinical judgments

based on the pathology

of a particular skull.

I can give you

the catalogue number.

PHRYNE: "Alas, poor Yorick."

Luckily Hamlet wasn't a woman,

or he might not have

recognized him.

It's engraved on the base of the

skull near the lower left jaw.

So Katz was worried

about your students cheating,

so he locked up the skull?

I agree it's ridiculous,

but this exam will decide

the winner of the Medical Prize.

It's more critical than most.

And some of our students'

whole lives

depend upon

their academic performance.

- Like who?

- Mr Street, for one.

Yes, Mr Street will struggle

more than some students.

None of his family are educated.

Dock workers, I believe.

And the college supports

the cost of his... his degree.

Charlie Street?

Your research assistant,

I believe?

Surprisingly bright,

though somewhat erratic,

especially of late.

Stop! Stop, Mr Street.

Pick it up.

Inspector Robinson

will be very interested

to hear your story, Mr Street.

Down at the station.

I don't mind you walking in

front occasionally, Inspector,

though behind

would be more gallant.

What if I was attacked

by sword-wielding

Japanese mathematicians?

You wouldn't know what happened

to my constable by any chance?

Didn't he follow you, Inspector?

I know Dr MacMillan

is an old friend,

but it would be easier

if you left me to investigate.

Without me?

What about the safe?

You couldn't have opened that.

- Not as easily.

- Or the blood trail.

- Not as quickly.

- And Hugh? I helped--

Helped what?

You really want me to go?

I don't want you to go.

I need you to go.

- Please go home.

- Very well.

Sayonara!

Beatrice. How are you feeling?

Much better now.

Good. Because I have to leave.

And I was hoping to

invite you home with me.

- Do you have any rats?

- Not dead ones.

Could I bring all my own things?

My research papers, my notes,

and my own food?

- Of course.

- And the page from the book?

I'm sure we can

work something out.

I'll consider it.

PHRYNE: Any sign

of our house guest, Dot?

No, Miss. I thought

that might have been her,

but it was just someone passing.

I hope she's not lost.

I gave her

very precise directions.

Beatrice doesn't strike me

as someone who forgets.

- Beatrice.

- I came in the rear door.

I was beginning to think we

should send out a search party.

I was concerned

I was being followed.

And were you?

Not that I'm aware of.

But I have to be careful.

I don't know you.

Ah, this is my companion,

Miss Dorothy Williams.

Dot, meet Miss Beatrice Mason.

Hello.

Would you like some tea? I've

got some fresh baked scones too.

No.

Thank you.

I only eat jam sandwiches.

So why would anyone

be following you, Beatrice?

It's... it's about

The Book of Hours.

Whoever it is, they want it.

But I don't understand.

The book is missing.

Perhaps they think I took it.

I had the book before

Professor Katz locked it up.

That's when they ransacked

my flat.

- Did you see them?

- No.

But I knew they'd been there.

Things had been moved.

Then they started leaving notes.

- Did you keep any of them?

- No.

They were burnt

when the kitchen caught fire.

Luckily my books were alright.

You can't touch them

without gloves.

Please.

But you look like a uh...

a careful person, Miss Williams.

- Thank you.

- She is. She's very careful.

Katz knew to wear gloves.

He liked old books, like me.

He shared my interest

in diseases of the mind.

He didn't think Juana was mad.

Katz agreed with me.

Katz ... I wish he wasn't gone.

How did you come by the key

to the furnace room?

You must understand

how this compromises you.

Professor Katz's body was left

to be incinerated last night.

I didn't have anything to do

with Katz. You have no proof.

But we have proof

you were attempting to dispose

of evidence, Mr Street.

Constable Collins,

charge Mr Charlie Street

with being

an accessory to a murder.

- Take him down to the cells.

- Yes, sir.

And we'll have to inform

Professor Bradbury

so I hope it won't affect

your future at Jude's College.

Alright, I found it.

Well, you need to tell us where.

A night in the cells

might loosen his tongue.

The key was with

Beatrice's things.

And I'm sure she

had no idea it was there.

- So who put it there?

- Well, I didn't see him do it.

But he's been

tormenting Beatrice

ever since she arrived

at the college.

Amos Oliver.

If you're so sure, why didn't

you mention this earlier?

Oliver's the golden boy

of this department.

His father won the Medical

Prize, his father before him,

and nobody wants to see him

get into trouble.

Katz was trying to have him

expelled for cheating.

Look what happened to him.

Oh, you've been busy.

These notes are the words

that accompany

the illuminations in the book,

but I haven't finished.

If you know your Bible you'll be

familiar with the iconography.

St John, the Tower of Babel,

Moses and the burning bush.

I haven't done the rest

of the Passion Cycle yet.

Of course.

I know all those stories.

But my Latin isn't very good.

That's not relevant, Dorothy.

You see how

some letters are in red,

but on every third page,

the letters have been changed

from black to red.

The new ink is... is...

is inorganic.

Less than 100 years old.

What do you think it all means,

Beatrice?

I don't know. But perhaps

they'll leave me alone now.

If they're the ones

that robbed the safe.

Unless they want

this missing page.

Who else knows you made

all these notes?

I showed Katz,

before he confiscated the book.

The book is beautiful.

Beyond words.

The colors are as...

as bright as jewels.

It shouldn't be out there

in the world.

I'll make sure

we find that book, Beatrice.

(thud)

Mr Butler?

Mr Butler! Mr Butler.

- He's still alive.

- I should hope so.

So sorry, Miss.

I'll be there shortly.

I concur with my budding

colleague here.

No nausea, no stomach cramps,

no signs of any rashes.

- I'd say nothing toxic.

- Thank goodness.

Just a heavy dose

of sleeping pills.

- Back to bed now, Mr B.

- Yes, Miss. At once.

Oh, leave him, Dot.

He's not going anywhere.

I'll get back to my work.

We suspect this is the culprit.

- Beatrice's jam?

- A gift, apparently.

Left anonymously

in her pigeonhole yesterday.

From someone who knows her well.

Beatrice likes labels.

Beatrice may seem impervious

to the harassment she suffers,

but I'm sure it takes its toll.

Is that all it is, do you think?

Harassment?

Well, I know that half

of the faculty

would rather see

her student placement

go to a deserving,

well bred young man

from the right side

of the tracks.

But she'll make a damn good

research doctor.

She's dispassionate, clinical.

Beatrice is very particular

about certain things.

The order she carries out

a dissection,

the way she organizes her notes,

being touched.

But she doesn't imagine things.

She's not crazy.

She is volatile.

She doesn't strike me

as being violent.

No. She was furious with Katz,

though,

when he locked away that book.

Are you suggesting...

No, I'm not suggesting

she'd hurt him.

But if she did,

she certainly wouldn't

lie about it.

We know Professor Katz was

trying to have you expelled,

and I imagine your family

have great expectations

of your medical career.

You think I'd murder Katz

for that?

I'm not sure.

Perhaps it was

to cheat on your examination

by stealing that skull.

Have you seen my results?

Ask Professor Bradbury

what kind of a doctor I'll make.

It's in my blood.

But the Medical Prize

examination

wasn't being held by

Professor Bradbury this year.

Professor Katz

was conducting it.

Have I mentioned

my uncle is a Queen's counsel?

Good to cover

all the professions.

What were you doing

last night?

I was in my room all night.

And I have a witness,

though I'm not sure

how reliable she is.

I thought that sort of thing

was frowned on by the college.

It wasn't my idea, Inspector.

Miss Beatrice Mason

came to harass me again.

The girl

is clearly a nymphomaniac.

Claimed I'd invited her.

Patently ridiculous.

Though she was amorous,

and a man can only take so much

of a woman

throwing herself at him.

Afterwards, she slept

on my divan. Ask her yourself.

Thank you, Mr Oliver.

I'll do that.

That's terrible, Dottie.

Yes, we'll look into it for you.

Thank you. Goodbye for now.

Not enough work

to keep you busy?

Found Miss Mason's whereabouts

yet?

We need to retrieve

our stolen evidence.

I believe she's no longer

at the college, sir.

Do you have her address?

Yes, but you won't like it.

- You mean last night?

- Yes.

And I'd rather conduct this

questioning down at the station,

if you would like to

accompany me, Miss Mason.

No. I like it here.

- Thank you.

- Yeah.

The answer

to your question is yes.

I spent the

night in Mr Oliver's room.

- What time did you arrive?

- At five past six o'clock.

And you can confirm you were

both there the entire night?

I was.

I wanted to return

to my research,

but my evening

didn't go to plan.

Oliver claims you seduced him.

That's strange.

I don't recall that.

Beatrice,

what exactly do you recall?

I remember arriving,

and Oliver seemed

happy to see me.

He was smiling a lot.

I ... I asked him

if could lie down for a bit.

I was so tired

I could hardly speak.

Why did you go to Oliver's room,

Beatrice?

Mr Spall said

Oliver had invited me.

It's polite to accept

an invitation.

I've had to learn to be polite.

He said that Oliver

wanted to apologize.

But then he killed another rat.

I don't understand that.

- Can I go now?

- Yes.

After you've returned that page

of The Book of Hours.

That won't be possible,

Inspector.

It's part of my research.

Beatrice wouldn't have

seduced Oliver.

Miss Mason

doesn't like to be touched,

let alone ravished

by a man like Oliver.

Mr Oliver

is doing what he does best.

Making trouble.

But if Beatrice were drugged,

perhaps his motives

were more sinister.

Like taking advantage of her?

Or providing Oliver

with an alibi

for the night of Katz's death.

I know that you are

more than capable

of handling this murder

investigation without me.

But you might like

to test this blackberry jam.

Thank you.

Oh, Miss.

Oh, no. Oh no,

they've taken all my notes.

- Who?

- Whoever owns this.

- Who would take them?

- This reeks of tobacco.

Sweetly spiced with vanilla.

Pipe tobacco.

Who do you know

that smokes a pipe, Beatrice?

Were you aware of any

relationship between Mr Oliver

and Beatrice Mason, Mr Spall?

I'm sure Oliver has no shortage

of female admirers.

But if you're saying she spent

the night in Oliver's room,

that is a very

troubling confession.

Even more troubling

if she was drugged.

Sorry Inspector,

your constable gave you away.

We're in the middle

of an interview, Miss Fisher.

As I was saying,

Miss Mason is well aware

that spending a night

in the male dorms

is against all

college regulations.

Apart from matters

of moral decency.

- Don't mind me.

- But I do.

Oh, that's right.

But you should know

we had an intruder last night

who tried to strangle

Beatrice, stole her notes

and left me with a very bruised

ribcage and a souvenir kerchief.

It smells of tobacco,

a very distinctive pipe tobacco.

I believe Mr Spall

smokes a pipe.

I believe I'm not the only man

to take up the habit.

Do you have your pipe handy?

May I?

Mmm. Vanilla.

So, where were you last night,

Mr Spall?

I was here until late,

going through the accounts.

- Who do you have--

- How serious was the friction

between yourself

and Beatrice Mason?

There were times when I needed

to see Katz on serious matters,

and that young woman

barred my way.

She's odd, full of fanciful

ideas. Anyone can see that.

Why did you get Katz

to confiscate the book--

What kind of serious matters?

College enrolments are down,

and Katz' insistence on

educating the working classes

wasn't doing our finances

any good at all.

Whereas the missing and

extremely valuable Book of Hours

would be a great help.

You're right, Miss Fisher.

That manuscript

was Katz' pride and joy

and contributed great prestige

to the college.

So I'd concentrate on tracking

down poor Katz' murderer

and finding the manuscript,

rather than

interrogating someone

who has the university's

best interests at heart.

Now if you're both done

with your questions,

I'd like to be dismissed.

Of course.

Thank you, Mr Spall.

Excuse me... Pardon me.

Professor Bradbury would like

to see you in the anatomy labs.

- Thank you, Collins.

- You can't let that--

And I would like Spall's office

searched now.

- What was that, Miss Fisher?

- Nothing for the moment.

Hello, Hugh. They wouldn't be

Mr Spall's things, would they?

I'm just taking them

to the Inspector.

- Oh, I am so sorry, Hugh.

- Miss!

Here, let me help you with that.

All my fault, Inspector.

I must watch where I'm going.

We can manage the rest,

Miss Fisher.

I'm sure you can,

but this looks interesting.

It describes

each of the college staff.

Professor Bradbury,

Professor Katz,

even Mac gets a mention.

Looks like some kind

of confidential dossier.

Intelligence gathering, perhaps?

I'll examine it more closely

before coming to

any conclusions, thank you.

Assuming Spall is lying

and he did drug Beatrice

and he was after

The Book of Hours,

perhaps it wasn't

about money at all?

Perhaps the book had

some other kind of significance?

Geoffrey Spall,

Pure Mathematics at Oxford,

wireless operator

with the British Admiralty,

Naval Cryptographer.

What does that all mean, sir?

It certainly doesn't make him

more likeable, Collins,

but it looks to me like

Mr Spall was a code breaker.

So military intelligence?

Possibly. With these notes

on his colleagues,

their politics, marital status,

comings and goings.

He's gathering information

for someone.

And the results

on that sedative in the jam,

it's a drug called scopolamine.

It's not very widely known,

but it's been used

to extract information.

Like a truth serum?

So you're saying he's a spy,

with the Secret Service?

Don't get too excited, Collins.

Since the war ended,

most intelligence work

is sitting behind a desk,

opening foreign mail.

Beatrice. You said there was

a pattern in the book.

- Yes, the alterations.

- What kind of alterations?

They were every third page.

That's where the new ink was,

in the calligraphy.

- Well, how could you tell?

- Ah, spectral analysis.

I used a Bunsen burner.

But if you looked closely,

you could tell.

Do you think there could be some

kind of meaning in the changes?

Some message, perhaps?

Katz bought the book

after the war.

Books were often used

to secret papers, money.

Well, I copied them down.

- But your notes were stolen.

- Before that.

I wrote out just

the letters that were odd

and made a list of them.

- Where is it?

- In my textbook.

Fascinating development,

Inspector.

Professor Spall is a spy.

It's only a theory

at this stage.

So, would you like something

to add to it or not?

At what price, Miss Fisher?

The usual, Inspector.

You're chasing rainbows.

That means nothing to me.

You can't deny your association

with the British military.

Why would I? I was proud

to serve my country.

How do you explain the dossier

you kept on your colleagues?

My confidential files

are exactly that.

I can write

whatever I like in them.

Katz changed the combination

on his safe daily

because he was afraid

that you would break into it.

- I could have done that easily.

- But you didn't need to.

Until Beatrice started finding

anomalies in The Book of Hours.

This is nonsense.

Then when Katz locked it up

she decided to guard his office,

and you had to drug her

to get her out of the way.

This is all unsubstantiated.

Interrogate the Mason woman.

She's the one

who wanted the book so badly.

Who knows what she'd have done

to get it?

- Sir, do you mind--

- Not now, Collins.

Are you accusing her

of Professor Katz's murder?

She may have had help.

That Charlie Street fellow

and her were thick as thieves.

But you've been through

my things, Inspector.

You know that the Dean

was seriously concerned

that she's mentally defective.

- It's not just my opinion.

- Sir...

Now if you'll excuse me,

I'm late for a meeting

of the college board.

Excuse me, sir,

would you mind if...

The more I know of that man,

the less I like him.

MAC: I suspect

they've become bored with it.

The Medical Prize exam

has been foiled

and they've clearly run out of

ways to make a mockery of that.

Here's the category number

Bradbury gave to me.

Thank you.

- Are you sure?

- Yeah.

The numbers match the skull but

I don't recognize this system.

I'm going to take this

back to the lab

and make sure

its the skull we're after.

There may have been a mix up.

I don't understand it, sir.

I thought

the students were here

to learn how to cure

diseases and help people.

Hello, Mr Street. How are your

studies progressing?

Thank you for taking Bea in.

I couldn't budge her myself.

It was the promise of finding

her book that was the lure.

I'm late for a lecture.

I must dash.

You're the one?

Hand it over, now. All of it.

- I haven't got anything.

- Give me the book!

- It's not yours.

- Now, I said!

Over here, Spall!

Glad your

timing's not off, Inspector.

- Thank you, Collins.

- Sir.

What's so important

about that book, Mr Spall,

that you'd shoot a man?

You're out of your depth.

Katz' killer is still out there.

- I didn't put it there.

- So how did you know it was?

- I didn't.

- Right place, right time?

I got a note this morning.

- Who was it from?

- I don't know.

It's anonymous, but I wanted

to keep it for Beatrice.

"Look where the old coot died."

Old coot?

And I certainly wouldn't killed

the old coot first.

Oliver used those exact words

to describe Professor Katz.

I need to telephone my uncle.

He's on his way.

Why did you steal the book?

It can't have been

just to torment Beatrice,

if it meant killing a man

to get it.

I didn't kill Katz.

I didn't care about the book.

I only used it

to get back at Charlie.

If you didn't kill Katz, how did

you end up with the book?

I was after the skull.

So how did you go about it?

No, you've got it all wrong.

When Beatrice turned up

that night expecting an apology,

I thought it was Katz' doing.

So I went to have it out with

him after Beatrice fell asleep.

And then I saw the skull

and I knew I'd be tested on it.

Everything was just sitting

on his desk.

I knew how valuable

that book was

and how much it meant to Katz.

I just grabbed everything.

Beatrice became your alibi, even

though she could be expelled.

And you tried to pin the blame

on Charlie Street.

OLIVER: He shouldn't be in

a place like this.

Neither should Beatrice.

This college has a history,

a reputation.

They just don't belong.

Tell me something, Mr Oliver.

If you're so brilliant,

how did you get caught?

No matter how much money

or education

is wasted on your pea-brained

intellect, Mr Oliver,

your failure to appreciate

the brilliance

of a mind like Beatrice Mason's

will always render you

a complete imbecile.

JACK: If these were all

the letters from the book--

Assuming it's in English and

we're dealing with the Allies.

And mostly phonetic

and omitting most of the vowels.

What about this part here?

Double agents.

And the first letters

can be names.

- Williams.

- And Cabot? French.

JACK: No, that's Corbett.

Williams and Corbett, airmen.

Reportedly went down in

the Battle of Arras, April 1917.

And both received

posthumous bravery awards.

But this code implies

an altogether different fate.

PLP. Pulp?

JACK: Code for assassination.

JACK: How did we do, Mr Spall?

The war was a long time ago,

Inspector.

So you don't think

anyone will be interested

that two supposed heroes

were murdered

by their own side for treachery?

The Bureau will deny

all knowledge.

Of the book. Of me.

So you murdered Katz

for an invisible master.

I would have, once.

But you're wrong.

It wasn't until

I heard Katz was dead

that I made my attempt

on the manuscript.

The spilled water.

Think he's telling the truth,

sir?

Well, if he is, and Oliver's

theft was merely opportunist,

who does that leave, Collins?

JACK: Good afternoon, Sir Basil.

Yes, that's right, sir.

Ah, Mr Geoffrey Spall.

Ah, well we're questioning him

now, sir.

Well, no sir, I...

Well, yes sir,

I understand that but--

Looks like we'll be releasing

Mr Spall immediately.

Really, sir?

So maybe he's doing just--

- Get on with it, Collins.

- Yes, sir.

Oh and Dr MacMillan

telephoned earlier.

She needs to see you

and Miss Fisher at the college.

This skull

has certainly been around.

The numbering here is American.

That's because

it's from Hartley University.

So how did it end up being the

subject of your medical exam?

It wasn't meant for an exam.

Professor Katz

was just keeping it safe.

- From what?

- From whom is the question.

Mac. Miss Fisher.

- What a lovely surprise.

- I hope you don't mind.

I need an expert opinion

on some human remains.

Mac and I

just can't seem to agree.

Well, you'd be hard

pressed to find a finer mind

than Elizabeth MacMillan's.

Unless it were a man's.

That skull is an aberration.

It undermines

a lifetime of research

I am finally going to present

to the national symposium.

I told Charlie Street

to incinerate it.

But he gave it

to Professor Katz instead.

Katz? Katz!

Katz!

Katz!

You certainly lost control of

your well-bred mind, didn't you?

He asked for it,

that vindictive little man.

So you killed him.

But when you came back,

your skull had gone.

Along with "The Book of Hours."

So you planted the key

in Beatrice Mason's things,

so you could blame your murder

on a madwoman.

A small sacrifice to make.

Modern medicine should promote

only the best traits

of the human race.

And what would modern medicine

do to Beatrice Mason?

Prevent her from breeding,

of course.

Like this woman?

An American Negress?

The kind of woman you believe

has an under-developed

and inferior brain?

Except this skull

belongs to the first Negro woman

to graduate with Honors

from Hartley University.

The skull is a hoax.

It's a lie, I tell you!

You're under arrest, Professor.

- What are you doing?

- What we do best, Jack.

And I'm afraid I'm going to have

to touch you.

Hold it right there!

"Highly opinionated,

revolutionary tendencies

and suspect associates."

I think Spall

summed you up nicely.

I never liked that man.

But I did admire

Professor Bradbury.

If Bradbury's research

was all about race

and gender superiority,

why did he encourage a woman?

Procreation.

Bradbury's running joke

was asking me

when I was going to settle down

and raise a family.

Intelligent women

do have their uses, Inspector.

MAC: The medical faculty's

been decimated.

They've expelled Oliver and his

father's money along with him.

What about Beatrice Mason?

Inaugural recipient of

the Fisher Research Scholarship.

So between Beatrice

and Charlie Street,

our reputation

should be salvaged.

Otherwise I will have to

go out and procreate

with the nearest

brilliant white male.

Don't worry, Inspector.

That won't happen in a hurry.

Although you would be

my first choice.

So what kind of partners are we

from here on in, Jack?

What's our safe distance?

Two steps behind,

two steps in front?

Perhaps a do-si-do?

- I think we're more of a waltz.

- Not a tango?

A good waltz is slow and close.

I'll try to stay in step,

all the same.

♪ I found out that I love you ♪

♪ And I thought

you loved me too ♪

♪ You were only

passing time with me ♪

♪ Many happy hours we spent ♪

♪ I thought

you were heaven sent ♪

♪ You were only

passing time with me ♪

♪ I remember

all the things you told me ♪

♪ And the way

you used to kiss and hold me ♪

♪ When you said

you'd always care ♪

♪ I thought

you were playing fair ♪

♪ You were only

passing time with me ♪