All language subtitles for Lewis - 05x02 - Wild Justice

Ma ficca li occhi a valle,

che s'approccia
la riviera del sangue

in la qual bolle qual che
per violenza in altrui noccia...

Mi scusi, signora.

Yes?

They're a pair, yes.

And your valuation?

Grazie.

Good for you.

Excuse me?
Well... women priests.

I'm not really a priest.

Morning, Sister.
Good morning, Bishop.

Everyone! The bus is here.

Your favourites, Mrs Goffe.
Garibaldis.

How reassuringly... traditional.

I didn't think Verona was
too much cop, love, as it goes,

but it was years ago
and I was working.

I suppose we could give it a look.

What about Pisa or Florence?

As we now depart, it falls to me
to express our gratitude to both
Caroline Hope, for organising,

and to you, Vice-Regent, for hosting
this voyage of interfaith discovery.

I hope our brief presence within
your hallowed walls was not too
alarming.

St Gerard's survived
the Black Death,

the Reformation, the Counter
Reformation, and Vatican II.

A woman bishop is not such a threat.

You've been terrific.

If anyone can blow the cobwebs
off of this place, it'll be you.

Do you know, Helen,
I think I damn well will.

We're going to enjoy a jolly
Oxford picnic before we go.

Won't you join us?

Or... are you busy...

prepping that lecture for tomorrow?

I am, yes. Sorry.

Well... take good care.

Sir.

Bishop Helen Parsons.

She died in the ambulance, ma'am.

She was at some colloquium,

which is posh for "conference",
according to Hathaway.

It looks like a poisoning.

Right, ma'am.

All three had the food.
Only she drank the wine.

So who brought the wine
to the picnic?

Well, she packed everything,

but the first that Sister Gloria
and Lama Tulku knew of any wine

was when they saw her drinking.

They assumed she was brought
it by someone they saw her with,

but by the time they moored
their punt, he was gone.

Description? They couldn't see
his face. He had his hood up.

What, a young lad?
Not that sort of hood.

I've often wondered
about this place and all the monks.

They're friars.

Go on, enlighten me.

You first.

Monks stay in and chant a lot
and friars get out and about.

There's an interesting chapel,
apparently.

Ah, you are the police?
Detective Inspector Lewis.

This is Sergeant Hathaway. I am
Father Moreno Mancini, Vice-Regent.

I have asked Caroline Hope
to join us.

She organised the colloquium
and she spoke to the Bishop just
before she left.

This way.

How old's the College, Father?

Not a college, to be precise.

We are a Permanent Private Hall,
operating under licence.

But the students count
as members of the university?

In every respect, yes.

Wasn't there a St Gerard's Priory
in Oxford... 13th century?

Indeed.

Ah, Caroline. Thank you.

Caroline Hope, English Department.

What happened?
She was fine this morning.

We think she might have been
poisoned.

She drank from this bottle of wine.

Ah. St Gerard's Chianti.

Do you make the wine here?

We buy it from Tuscany,
where it's given our own label.

We have strong Italian connections.

Is it available outside St Gerard's,
in a gift shop or something?

It is strictly for us alone,
so it must have come from here.

You can ask Brother Stephen.

Stephen Blackmore.
He is responsible for our wine.

Did Bishop Parsons
say anything to you

about arranging to meet someone else
from St Gerard's at the picnic?

No. It was just a last-minute idea.

How many men here
wear the robe and hood, like yours?

Oh, not all staff or students
are members of the order,

so only the ordained friars, the lay
friars, the undergraduate friars...

Approximately... 35.

Can't wait for the identity parade.

Sir, can you give me five minutes?
I'd love to take a look at this
chapel.

Yeah, OK.

I've got to pick up a gizmo
for my Italian trip with Lyn,
so I'll see you at the hotel.

Hello.

Who are you?

Serve, Felix.
I'm not waiting any longer.

Are there any further details?

All they're saying is that she died
before they could get her to
hospital.

God moves in a mysterious way.

Now, now, signora.

Sorry, Mother.

Police closed off the river bank.
I had to go the long way.

Avocado? My favourite.

Did she drown, or what?

Caroline Hope says it was poison...

in a St Gerard's wine.

Good heavens!
Lighting doesn't strike twice.

We'll pray for her soul.

After pudding.

There you go, sir.
Cheers.

Hello. Barry Winter.

Yeah, yeah, I just got back.

Yes, I did. It's in the paper.

Funny you should mention her.

Don't see me off.
I haven't checked train times yet.

And the gym will get crowded.

Find someone to go with tonight.
Don't waste my ticket.

What time will you be back? Early,
by breakfast. So I'm fresh for the
lecture.

You will come, won't you?
Oh, what?

I get enough of your rabbit at home,
mate.

Are you OK?

It's just... the Bishop.

Helen. I really liked her.

Ta-ta.

Ah, this thing works.
"Smooth and fruity."

Hm?

Morbido e fruttato.

It doesn't do pronunciation, then?

No, just translation.

Do you think it knows "smart arse"?

All packed for home.
Yeah.

I'll shut that.

Better.

I'll check the bathroom.

So, do you think I should take
early retirement?

What? You seemed to be riveted
by that notice.

What if it was the voluntary
redundancy that caught my eye?

No.

No. What else would I do?

When's the husband
arriving from the States?

First thing in the morning.
That's just last-minute stuff.

I'd get a reasonable pension.

Lyn says go for it.

She thinks I should slow down.

What do you think?

I think...
I should stop thinking too much.

It could be a nice step up for you,
mind.

The White Devil.

Horror story?
Of sorts. It's a revenge tragedy.

Jacobean?
Yeah.

Recommended reading
for yesterday afternoon's session:

Justice And Redemption
In Jacobean Revenge Drama.

A lecture by Caroline Hope.

Somebody's given her
their phone number there.

Shall I try it?
Yeah. Go on.

Forensics should be finished
with HER phone by now.

Stephen Blackmore. Brother
Stephen Blackmore of St Gerard's?

Yeah, who is this?
Oxford Police.

About the death of Bishop Parsons.

Yes?
We'd like to talk to you.

I doubt if I can help,
but as you wish.

Come to St Gerard's at five.
Thank you.

When was the last time
you spoke to or saw Bishop Parsons?

We were introduced when she arrived,

but I wasn't a participant
in the colloquium, so that was it.

OK. We'll see you later.

Felix.
Brother.

Is that where the Bishop died?
Oh, is it?

I'm often here.

What?

Are you all right?
Go away.

Signora's touchy today.

The signora's busy.

What did the scene search turn up?
Nothing.

Oh, except they found a trace of
superglue on the neck of the wine
bottle. It's a screw top.

So there'd be resistance
when it was opened again,
once the poison was in.

Intelligence report
on the Bishop's phone.

Anything worth following up?

She made three calls this morning.
One to Blackmore.

That's Brother Stephen Blackmore
from St Gerard's.

We're meeting him later.
When did he call her?

20 minutes before the picnic.

He told us he hadn't spoken to her
since they met.

Who else?
Landline for Caroline Hope.

That's the English lecturer, ma'am.
Organised the conference.

And a J Pinnock.

Professor Joanne Pinnock, Theology:

Justice And Forgiveness
In The Coptic Church AD42.

First-day seminar. Don't get
too excited. You've missed it.

I met her.
Useful?

Interesting.

But we weren't talking
about the case.

Inspector Lewis.
I am so sorry, I really am.

Professor Pinnock?
Guilty.

My son's getting married and we're
having the reception in the
Ashmolean.

Would you mind if we talked inside?
No.

I'm meeting him in there.

The Goffe family built Hall House
in 1608

and they've been the main
benefactors of St Gerard's
ever since.

Mrs Goffe and her daughter
live here,

so does the Vice-Regent and
a couple of the academic staff,
including Caroline.

We were all very shocked
to hear about the Bishop.

Had you met her?
Mm, nice woman.

That door there.

Um, you know when the police
want information,

and they say "let us decide if it's
important or not", who would I tell?

Have you information?
No. But if?

You call me, Mr...?

Felix Sansome.

Yep?

Police for Caroline?

Yeah. Sergeant Hathaway.

May I?

Carrie's in Cardiff, back tomorrow.

I'm her partner, Alastair Darlow.

I know. I've just finished reading
New Situational Criminology.

A copper who reads serious books.

A villain who writes them.
Ex.

Come in. I've got something for you.

Bishop Parsons phoned
you this morning
after the last colloquium session.

Why was that?
To say goodbye.

I'd missed her
because I was meeting Ben.

How I ever thought it was a
good idea to stand for election

at the same time
as getting him married.

What election's this?

Father Mancini's stepping down
as Vice-Regent after...

ooh, it must be 35 years, at least.

Long time.

Who's the Regent,
if he's Vice-Regent?

King James II was our last.
Ah.

Can you think of any reason why
the Bishop might have been killed?

It's terrible, isn't it?

She was a sweetheart, too.
A breath of fresh air.

It's so drearily conservative,
St Gerard's.

And you'd like to change all that?
Oh, I won't win the election.

Caroline Hope is firm favourite,
but I'm still going to give it my
best shot.

Look, um... as you're here...
I'm anxious about a colleague.

Another candidate, actually.

Jeremy Swain. He's Ben's godfather.

He was due back from holiday
yesterday and...

I think he would have phoned
if he'd changed his plans.

Was he with anyone?

No, just walking
in the Lake District, alone.

His phone's off. I've checked
his flat and he definitely
hasn't been back there.

But his car's gone and I know
that he went away by train.

If you have the registration number,
we'll keep an eye out in case it's
been stolen.

But I expect he's just enjoying
another day away.

Oh, there's Ben.

I'd better not keep Sergeant Hathaway
waiting or I'll be in trouble.

What an interesting young man he is.

Why did he leave the seminary
to become a policeman?

Didn't he tell you?
No.

Me neither.

Hello, Barry Winter.

Oh, hello again.

What about?

Fair enough. Very mysterious.

I'll be here.

"James, may your policeman's lot
be a happy one. Al Darlow."

Didn't ask for it.

Is it all about his personal
road to Damascus

or does he mention the bank manager
he tortured to get into the safe?

He was never violent.
His associates were.

Two of them are still doing life
for killing that off-duty constable
at the building society.

I think you'll find that Darlow
was still in prison then.

Are you for me? Stephen Blackmore.

Sergeant Hathaway.
This is Inspector Lewis.

About St Gerard's wine?

Father Mancini tells us that
it's only available actually here
in St Gerard's. Is that right?

Absolutely. It's supplied direct
from Italy and I handle all that.

Where does it live?

In our cellars, but they're not
secure and we operate a trust
system.

If someone wants a bottle,
they take one and leave the money.

Did you by any chance
join Bishop Parsons for her picnic?

I'm the last person to share
an egg sandwich with a lady bishop
in the spirit of ecumenism...

if you know what that means.

Is it a striving towards
Christian unity,

as well as sometimes referring
to a shared spirituality

with the other two Abrahamic faiths?

Sorry. Amazing what you pick up
in this job.

You're a traditionalist, Brother?

For 400 years
we were Catholic in here.

Then, since 1968, merely Christian.

And now, if Caroline Hope
becomes Vice-Regent,

we'll be open to all faiths
and none.

Druids for all I know.

That's why I'm standing myself.

You told me that you last spoke
to the Bishop when she arrived,

but that's not quite true, is it?

She called you before the picnic.

Oh... So she did.

Yes, it was to ask about a thing
about a prayer resource - in Greek,
which is my subject.

Look, I'm rather behind.
I'm collecting work to take home.

You don't live in?

"God made the country
and man made the town."

I value the quiet life.

Well, we're done here, sir. Goodbye.

What's "a thing
about a prayer resource"?

Something to say
when you've been caught out.

I won't have the toxicology
results yet.

No, I just wondered if you fancied
a bite to eat, on the off chance?

Sorry, I'm booked.

Ah.

Never mind.

Do you want to talk?
It'll keep.

How To Donate A Body
For Medical Research?

I just picked it up in reception.

Our Lyn's on at me to sort out my
will, her partner being a financial
adviser.

Some cultures believe
you can't enter heaven
without all your bits intact.

Some of us don't believe in heaven.
Ha.

Do you know who asked me
about donating their body? Morse.

I told him he should
help the living and consider
donating his organs instead.

He said he wouldn't inflict
his organs on anyone.

All those years.

Still, things change, don't they?

Walk you to your car, at least?

Amen.
Amen.

There is one item only
on the agenda.

The election of the Vice-Regent.

The processional route has
been agreed by the authorities,

and there is a map included in your
details of the day's arrangements.

So I can now formally confirm
the four candidates as follows.

Professor Joanne Pinnock...

Miss Caroline Hope...

Brother Jeremy Swain.

Is there any sign of Brother Jeremy?

No. I did mention his absence
to the police.

Surely he's not missing? Oh, no, no.

We all know Brother Jeremy. He's
just a little late. By two days.

And Brother Stephen Blackmore.

Confermo.

I confirm and may God
bless your endeavours.

Thank you, Inspector.

The Bishop's husband.
Not something you hear every day.

He said she was looking forward
to renewing a friendship in Oxford.

With who?

She just mentioned it in passing, he
said, and then changed the subject.

But this was her first trip to
the UK. She'd travelled in Europe.

Studied in Italy
for three months. Tuscany.

Where the wine came from?
Yeah.

Mind you, whoever it was, she
could have met them in the States.

Caroline Hope's back.
Alastair Darlow called.

Hm. Don't forget your autograph book.

If Jeremy doesn't materialise soon,

Brother Stephen will be representing
the dark forces on his own.

Jeremy's your friend.

I know, darling. But he's still
a reactionary old misogynist.

They both are.
They all are.

I wouldn't be surprised if
Mancini poisoned the wine himself.

Do we both really need to stand?

We might split the progressive vote.

I know. You think it risks letting
in a dinosaur, but we do have our
differences, Caroline.

I still want St Gerard's students
to be practising Christians.

I'm not stepping aside.

Well, then...

I suppose we'll just have
to wait and see what happens.

How can we...

maximise the chance of it being
me who carries forward your legacy?

I shall give the question
some consideration.

And the Italian project?

Any news on the paintings?

Ah.

What's that?

It's for you.

"Father Mancini is the Devil.

Don't trust him."

Why shouldn't you trust him?

Who'd do this?

Oh, many are my persecutors
and mine enemies.

Carrie worked on a prison
outreach project from St Gerard's,

five years into my sentence
for the Bristol job.

Has she always been at St Gerard's?

She read English here straight out
of sixth form, got a First,
then her Doctorate.

Now she's a senior lecturer.

She directed my energy
to a better place.

She reckoned I was
pretty bright and I reckoned
she was pretty and bright.

So the criminal career
was just you being over-energetic?

Clearly there was more to it
than that, Inspector.

Sorry.

Arrangements for this afternoon.

I'm giving this year's Goffe
Memorial Lecture.

The first woman ever, too.

Come along if you want
to give your intellect an outing.

His intellect's busy this afternoon,
working. Quite.

We're following up
on some phone calls the Bishop made
just before she was murdered.

One of them was to you.
Not me, no.

I last spoke to her
when I saw her before the picnic.

Unless I missed her.
This was to your landline.

Maybe she left a message.

I'm lousy at checking the thing.

"Carrie, what a great surprise gift.
At least I guess it's you."

"I'll drink to your health
on the banks of the Cherwell
with the taste of Italy. God bless."

End of messages.

Carrie? I didn't give her wine.
I didn't give her anything.

She'd mentioned she liked it,
but no.

Play it again, louder.

"Carrie, what a great surprise gift.
At least I guess it's you."

"I'll drink to your health
on the banks of the Cherwell
with the taste of Italy. God bless."

Piped music. The wine
must have been left at the hotel.

I've never been to her hotel.

Where were you before you said your
goodbyes and she went back there?

Here at St Gerard's
after the last session,
with her and all the others.

So if the wine had been
left for her before the session,

she'd have thanked Carrie in person.

Yes, Mr Darlow, I had got there.

Why's a woman like that
hitched up to Darlow?

Maybe she sees something in him
that you don't, sir.

A violent criminal.

And shoving a sawn-off in a cashier's
mouth until she wets herself IS
violence.

Gets a degree in prison,
starts writing books
telling us where we've gone wrong.

Safer with a pen in his hand than a
gun.

But where's the repentance?
Repentance?

Ah, it's this place.

I like it here.

I did see a monk
out of the corner of my eye,
but I couldn't see his face.

It's a friar, not a monk.
Are they different?

No, not really.
Then that's who it was.

He just wrote the room number
and left it with the wine.

Room 507. And I gave it to
Bishop Parsons when she came in.

And there -

There was nothing else he put on
the note apart from the room number?

No.

There's another week of that.
The Bishop wanted to change rooms

but we'd already moved one guest
from 507 and we were chock-a-block.

Somebody else
should have been in Room 507?

Who?
Um...

Mr Barry Winter from Bristol.

He checked in four days ago and
then we moved him to a quieter room
after his first night.

Was he on his own?
Yes.

On business, or what?
Just sightseeing.

He said he was being treated to
a little break. Who paid his bill?

He used his own credit card
to secure the reservation

and then used cash yesterday
when he checked out.

If our mystery friar left the
bottle of wine for this Winter bloke,

why was he at the river
with the Bishop?

Maybe they realised
it was in the wrong hands
and they wanted to get it back.

This is a message for Mr Barry
Winter to call Sergeant Hathaway,
Oxford Police,

as a matter of urgency.

Number 07700 900457.

Just because he dresses as a friar,
doesn't mean that he is one.

He or she. It could be anyone
under that hood.

It could be the Chief Constable.

Too tall.

The vehicle is registered
to Jeremy Swain of St Gerard's Hall.

Inspector Lewis flagged it.

We're looking into it now,
thank you. Over and out.

Your turn. I hate surprises.

Phew.

Won't be a sec.

Madness and murder.

Poisonings, stabbings,
suffocations and stranglings.

Unspeakable mutilations
and catastrophic carnage.

Just a... good night out
in the theatre circa 1600.

And an opportunity for Jacobean
audiences to gawp at foreigners,

especially the duplicitous Italians.

But beyond the grisly
and the gruesome

lies an exploration of revenge.

Our avenging hero -
or very occasionally, heroine...

pursues a justice that has been
denied them by authority.

The deceased is Jeremy Swain.

Date of birth, 05/08/46. Copy?

Copy.
Over and out.

He's out of the ground,
but I'll need to get him away
to take a proper look.

And um... he's got a finger missing.

When you say "missing"...?

Someone's hacked it off.

What's the Italian mean?

According to this,
"A kind of wild justice."

Revenge.

Francis Bacon, 1625.

He wrote,
"Revenge is a kind of wild justice."

Coffee?
Thanks.

Mancini wants to see you later.
What about?

Calling off the election?

There's still three candidates.
Come on.

Swain's death is unspeakable but...

you know how much
this means to me, Al.

Where's Mother?
With the Vice-Regent.

He frightens me. Look.

"Be sober, be vigilant,

because your adversary, the devil,
as a roaring lion, walketh about,

seeking whom he may devour..."

This thing...

Brother Stephen will still
fight these women, will he not?

Si calmi, signora.

I brought the flowers yesterday
as a welcome back.

Jeremy loved flowers.

I may as well take them back.

Where do we start?

We need to know how long
he spent in the Lake District,

and why he didn't make it back here
before we found him.

I'll check the bedroom.

Oh, and get on to Bristol CID.

Ask them to do us a favour
and check on Barry Winter,

since he hasn't got back to us.

Professor?

Where were these taken?

Tuscany.
That's Jeremy with the Vice-Regent.

They were looking at a possible site
for the Italian study centre.

Father Mancini's retirement project.

That's if St Gerard's
can raise the money.

Mancini wants to run it in
accordance with traditional values.

No more cosying up to lady bishops,
then?

No more 21st century.

It looks like he never made it
to the Lake District.

Well, where was he?

Did you hear nothing from him
all the time he was away?

No, but I wasn't expecting to.

I just knew he'd be back in time
for the election.

Oh, I'm due to meet Dr Hobson.

Can you finish up here?

Thanks, Professor.

I'll wrap those flowers.

Or shall I just burst into tears?

I could wrap them while you cry.

Are you used to it by now...

violent death?

Yes, sadly.

What sort of priest
do you think you'd have been?

Restless.

Too thoughtful.

And what sort of policeman are you?

Ask my boss.

What about promotion?

It's a possibility,
but I'm not sure it's worth it.

I mean, what are we really for?

There is a junior research
fellowship coming up in Theology.

Lousy money, of course, but...

Sorry.

Hathaway. Yeah. No, I remember.

St Gerard's still owns pieces
of Oxford all over.

This was the original priory here,

which is why I always say
it's good growing soil...

years and years of dead and...

dead and buried friars.

But with what's happened...

There's two things. It's up to you
if you think they're important.

I'll let you decide that.
Thanks. First?

Mrs Goffe got this anonymous letter
yesterday.

What do you think?

If Mrs Goffe wants to get in touch,
we'll talk to her.

I put it in the bag
for fingerprint preservation.

I noticed, thank you. Second?

On Monday afternoon, soon
after Bishop Parsons was killed,

I met someone staring at
where it happened.

Brother Stephen. It was very odd.

Not that unusual, in my experience.
No, he said he often went there.

I've been going that way
nearly every day since
I came to St Gerry's,

which is getting on for three years
now, and...

well, I've never seen him.

He was lying.

Mr Winter?

Mr Winter?

Prepare for the weird, Robbie.

Jeremy Swain's cause of death.

It's a first for me in a homicide.
Starvation.

Starvation?

And or dehydration.
How long would that take?

They say three minutes without air,
three days without water

and three weeks without food.

But it's a moveable feast,
to coin a phrase.

From his live body weight
and general health,

I'm estimating he died
between four to ten days ago.

And he last ate at least two weeks
ago, closer to three.

That would fit
with when he disappeared.

But he can't have been
in the ground that long.

He must have been kept hidden
somewhere, tied up, gagged.

What about this missing finger?

Left hand, little finger, severed
at the base of the proximal phalanx.

There. After death.

Small mercies.

There's something else,
if you've got five minutes.

Sure.

The election's going ahead. Good.

However...

I must confess to reservations
about your suitability,

not because of what you represent

but because of what you are.

What I am is what I am now,
not what I was.

Perhaps...

Perhaps you should consider
withdrawing from the contest.

Not in a million years.
Why now suddenly?

Because of these killings.

Because Stephen Blackmore's
got cold feet about his chances?

Questions may be asked.

What are you saying?

Ever since you came here as a young
woman, I have protected you. Hm?

But if you were to become
Vice-Regent,

I would consider it my duty
to tell Alastair the truth.

To avoid that unpleasant
possibility, withdraw now.

No.

Do you really think Alastair
will understand?

Caroline?

Is this about Jeremy?

It's unbelievably appalling.

It's more about Bishop Parsons

and what you were doing
at the murder scene.

Would you mind Sergeant Hathaway
looking in there?

I'll lock up for you.

Don't you ever feel isolated?

Solitary. The place belongs
to St Gerard's and I rent it.

What's your colleague looking for?

Anything that could help us.
What do you keep out there?

Whatever doesn't fit in here.

Did you spend time in the States?

I studied there for a year,
but I didn't much like it.

In Boston, which -
to save you the trouble...

is 3,000 miles
from Portland, Oregon,

where Bishop Parsons comes from.

Have you been back there since?

I planned a visit last year,

but there were visa problems
so I cancelled.

I met the Bishop - briefly -
for the first time in Oxford,

and there's no law against
being on a bridge looking at a view.

Felix Sansome
is a tiresome busybody.

Nobody's accusing you of anything.

All very neat and tidy.

I'm a born again de-clutterer.

Bristol CID. Hathaway.

DC Karen Middleton.
Welcome to Bristol.

Sergeant Hathaway.

He was suffocated with that cushion.

It's from St Gerard's.

St Gerard's?
Yeah.

Take a look at this.

Was Winter a copper?
Retired.

Detective Inspector here,
before my time. Here.

The Bristol pension scheme
must be better than ours.
That's a fair few bob.

What's the connection? Tell us that,
Karen, and you get first prize.

Did their neighbours see anything?

The lady across the street
saw someone going in the night
before yesterday, about 9:30.

Description? Couldn't see
his face... but he was a monk.

After you, sir.
Friar.

Sleep well, Mrs Goffe.

Comfort me?

Just speak, Al.

Please, mate.

Years of lies.

I'm telling you now...

because I thought
you could understand.

May I speak with Professor Pinnock,
please?

I'll leave a message.
It's James Hathaway.

So what are these strings
you want me to pull? American ones.

I need to know why Stephen Blackmore
had a visa problem.

Why Blackmore, now we know the
Bishop wasn't the intended target?

Yeah, I think he's lying.

We still don't know who the friar was
at the picnic or why he was there.

Oh... I promised to look in
on this wedding.

Professor Pinnock's son, Ben.

She's a bit nervous.
Fine... I suppose.

What are you doing?

May I read you some Shakespeare?
If you must.

Titus Andronicus. The Emperor
condemning the villain to death.

"Set him breast-deep in earth,
and famish him."

Like Swain?

Titus Andronicus
is a real horrorfest.

The Queen of the Goths eats
her own children baked in a pie.

Not deliberately.

Oh, good.
Rarely performed.

Do they wonder why?

What?
Well, it's a revenge play.

Revenge as in Caroline Hope's
colloquium lecture.

Justice and...

Justice And Redemption
In Jacobean Revenge Drama.

Poisoned wine feature in
any of these plays, by any chance?

Frequently. Often Italian.

I am not easily frightened.
I imagine not, Mrs Goffe.

But I am easily annoyed, Sergeant.

Father Mancini is a trusted friend
and confidant.

Who would call him the Devil
and why would they warn you
not to trust him?

Do I bear even the slightest
resemblance to a detective?

No.

I'm not sure you do, to be frank.

You might be right.

This just came for you.

Felix!

Felix!

It must have been a tough call
to go ahead.

Sometimes you just soldier on.

Like the election?

Exactly.

Oh, you must see the procession
on Saturday.

It should be quite something.

Have you and Caroline Hope
always been friends?

Ever since she joined the staff.

As a student, she kept herself
very much to herself.

Oh, James, I got your message.

Can we um... talk later?
Yes. Yes, of course.

Sergeant.

The note was with it. "I could not
get the ring without the finger."

De Flores says it in The Changeling.

Is that a Jacobean revenge play?

Yes. So I take it you've made
the Titus Andronicus connection.

We have.

What about this cushion
at Barry Winter's place?

There's an ex-policeman in Bristol,
been suffocated with a cushion.

"Thy treacherous breath with silken
cushion I stop and thus avenge."

Fulworth. The Devil's Friar.

Why is this happening?
What are you thinking?

Why is my field of study chiming
so precisely with these killings
so far?

So far?

These things only stop
when the mad person dies.

Yes, ma'am.

What, now?

Right away.

The highest level of confidentiality
applies to this conversation.

The Ministry of Justice made
that crystal clear when they called.

Ma'am.
Yes, ma'am.

Do you remember the Sally Bond case?

The name rings a vague bell.

1982. Sally Bond was a
ten-year-old child in Gloucester.

Yeah. Terrible.

She and another girl viciously
assaulted an elderly couple

during the course of a burglary.

The wife, Mrs Napton,
managed to knock out Sally's friend

using her walking stick.

Sally panicked and set fire
to the house before running away.

The three of them died.

Mr Napton was in a wheelchair.
She stabbed his arms.

Sally Bond was released on licence
with a new identity at 19.

Sally Bond is Caroline Hope.

The only person in Oxford
meant to know is Father Mancini.

He was told when Sally - Caroline...

won her scholarship to St Gerard's.

When they caught
the ten-year-old Caroline,

she had a signet ring she'd forced
from Mr Napton's little finger.

No-one saw who left that envelope.

And... look who it was
that caught her.

Detective Sergeant Barry Winter.

Why are you always late?
Sorry, Mother.

Be a dear, get me one, too.

Pleasure.

All this and the election on
Saturday.

I wish you well.

But not too well, naturally.

Naturally.

Have you seen Ben anywhere?
It's speech time.

It's Ben.

Professor Pinnock's son.

The ligature
was a friar's waist cord.

We're waiting on Dr Hobson's prelim.

How long was it before he was
missed? Well, you know these dos.

His mother said ten minutes,
but who knows?

Where are we going with this,
Robbie? Four murders in five days?

Yeah, I can count, ma'am.

Swain's been dead for at least
nine days. Don't split hairs.

Hathaway had to call in
favours from Forensics
to get the test done on Swain's car

cos we can't fast-track it.

You know the budgetary constraints.

Dead right I do!
I'm at the sharp end.

If this carries on, you won't have to
ask for volunteers to jack it all in.

People will be queuing up.
Are you thinking of going?

Well, I won't be around for ever.

Sir? Caroline Hope is here.

Sergeant Hathaway said
she wanted to "clear the air".

Right, just me. But room five.

You won't turn to stone
if you look at me.

I'm not a monster...

even if I am a living legend.

It's what they called it -
my new identity - my "legend".

And... I am living it.

Has he ever shouted at you, James?

Only when it was the right thing
to do, ma'am.

He needs his holiday... or something.

The fire was accidental.

I knocked over the oil heater
and it just all went up...

And both you and your friend, Jackie,

had the sort of abusive childhood
most of us couldn't even imagine,

but you still left all three of them
to burn to death.

I was frightened.

I didn't know what to do.

Not as frightened as Mr Napton,
I bet,

in his wheelchair,
17 puncture wounds in his arms

where you'd poked him with a penknife
just for fun.

He was 81.
I was ten.

And it was Jackie with the knife.

That's not what you told the police.

She was dead.

It was the start of my atonement.

I wanted all the blame.

And she got it.
Maybe she deserved it.

And that's what St Gerard's offered,
atonement?

No.

You have to have a faith
to atone... in their sense.

And I never had one.

You?

Once.

I lost it.

And I don't miss it, either.

Do you remember Detective Sergeant
Winter, what he was like with you?

There wasn't much um...

gentleness from any of them.

Not that I knew what gentle meant
as a child.

I had to wait for Al.

Did he understand?

I only told him yesterday.

He's walked out.

Who have you got?

A couple of grown-up kids.
No-one else.

Do you see much of them? I'm
spending time with my daughter soon.

On Monday night,
you were in Cardiff, is that right?

A spur of the moment thing. I went
to see my nan in her nursing home.

Where did you stay?
In a hotel.

And yes, Bristol, where
Winter lived, isn't that far away.

But I had no idea where he was
after 30 years.

And no idea what he was doing
in Oxford? No.

What? How did she know
Winter was in Oxford?

How do you know Winter was in Oxford?

I saw him on Monday.

I think he was watching me.

Why do you think he'd track you down
after 30 years?

I don't know.

Blackmail?

Did he have any history
of corruption?

I'll check why
he left the Gloucester force.

I was ten.

Ben was strangled with two cords
tied together in parallel.

It's called a "lover's knot".

Caroline's recommended reading for
the colloquium was The White Devil.

In the final act, a bridegroom is
strangled as his murderer says,
"This is a true-love knot."

Somebody is trying to make me look
like I'm a killer.

There's another line
in The White Devil...

"There's nothing sooner dry
than women's tears."

Yes?

Yes.

Moreno Mancini, Vice-Regent.

I don't understand.

Where did you have this?

Did they?

Aargh!

I... I must have slipped on
something.

It was something.
Yes.

I'd... I'd go easy
on the Benedictine.

We don't want to lose the
Vice-Regent before the election.

Are you all right?
Yes.

Yes, thank you.

Good night.

Good night, sir.

You could have killed
him. That was the general idea.

What the hell are you doing?

I did it for us.

What?

You were like a tiger with me.
Gina.

What happened last night...
Shh.

I've got a lot to offer, Felix.

Not just...

It could change your life.

Looking for me?

No, I've been arranging
to talk to some probationers,
to explain my job.

Can you explain mine?

Have you told James your news?

Not yet.
Don't leave it too long.

No.

I'm sorry for shouting, ma'am.

I didn't notice.
Thanks.

Don't do it again.

Yeah, moving on,

Professor Pinnock's withdrawn
from the election for Vice-Regent.

Understandably.

So I was wondering
if these last killings

might be to do with election rivalry.

There are just two candidates left,
Caroline Hope and Stephen Blackmore.

Whether either are ambitious
enough to...

But why murder Ben Pinnock in
order to get his mother to withdraw?

Why not just kill her,
like Jeremy Swain?

Maybe so the method fits with another
of these revenge plays, ma'am.

Which brings us back
to Caroline Hope.

She says somebody's trying
to incriminate her.

Who'd have a grudge?

The families of her victims from
30 years ago? Where would you start?

We've got quite a strong new lead
on that, ma'am.

The Naptons, the old couple
that died, they had a daughter.

And Hathaway's just found out
that Barry Winter left
the Gloucester force under a cloud

because he'd had an affair
with her during the case.

Family liaison that went too far.

Where is she now?

Well, we're working on that,
but she's moved away from the area.

Any joy on Blackmore's visa problems,
ma'am?

I'm expecting a call.

Forensics.

Lewis.

Yeah... Oh, right.

Right, thanks.

The soil analysis on Swain's
car tyres has found traces
of chicken waste.

Hen droppings.
The lab reckons a farm.

I can hear you tutting
even if you're not.

I don't like misplaced apostrophes.

Yes, ma'am?

Yeah, we're there now.

What will you do?

Help me! Get the rug!

Leave it!

What's down there?

Room for a prisoner?

Prisoner?
Not amongst this lot.

Cases of it.

That belongs in St Gerard's cellars.
What's it doing there?

Last night, a gentleman
telephoned me

to ask where he could buy
some more of St Gerard's Chianti,

because he'd enjoyed it
in a restaurant in Scotland.

Brother Stephen has been selling
our wine for his own benefit.

Do you want to press charges?

Our Lord forgave the thief.

He wasn't running for Vice-Regent.

You're protecting your boy.

How well you express the matter.

Now, unless
there is anything further...

Sergeant Hathaway
would like a word, outside.

After you, Father.

You lied.

You didn't cancel your trip
to America.

You were forbidden entry because
of an undeclared criminal conviction

in Portland, Oregon,
where Bishop Parsons lived.

What was that for?

It was a... steamy night
in a steamed-up car...

and the cop smelled marijuana.

It was hers.

She was still
at theological college so...

British chivalry to the rescue.

I said it was mine.

Did you know
she was coming to Oxford?

When I saw the list of delegates,

but she had no idea about me
until she arrived.

We avoided each other.

Then on Monday she called
and said meet her at the river
to say goodbye.

How serious was this... relationship?

Helen was the only woman
who ever really did it for me.

But she chose God.

We lost touch,
though I followed her progress.

Why didn't you join her
in a glass of wine?

Did you know that it was poisoned?

I don't drink. I haven't done
for nearly nine years now.

We do know about Caroline Hope.

Sally Bond.

Ah, yes, of course.

Does anybody else?
Not from me.

Was Jeremy Swain ever out here?

Yes.
When was the last time?

Six months at least.
Are you sure?

We know his car was recently
on a farm.

Do you know how many farms
there are in Oxfordshire?

Tell me, how do you fancy
your chances as Vice-Regent,

now it's just a two-horse race?

I'm a thoroughbred.
The nag will fall.

So Blackmore was the friar
at the picnic,

but was he the one
at the hotel and in Bristol?

If it is just one and
we're not looking for a double act.

Blackmore and Mancini?

Well, I'd buy Blackmore
being unstable enough

to eliminate rival candidates.

But why would he kill Winter?

Unless it was to frame Caroline.
But he'd have to know she was Sally.

Mancini could have told him.

Hathaway.

Mrs Goffe?

Father Mancini?

Well, what exactly
have you found out? Mrs Goffe?

Are you there?

She says she knows why
she was told not to trust Mancini.

I wrote that note.

I didn't want Mother selling
the paintings to pay for
Mancini's Italian study centre.

My loyal Felix discovered the truth.

Best to clear the air.
Secrets fester.

Those exquisite Castellis are
my only liquid assets of any note.

But she'll inherit this house
when I go,

which is worth far more
than they are.

I can't wait for that.

I want to marry Felix, get away
from this Godforsaken place.

Godforsaken?

Shame Felix doesn't
share your bizarre ambition.

I do.

Mrs Goffe, marrying Gina
answers a deep-seated need

for her and for me.

It makes perfect and joyful sense.

So... I may yet dandle a grandchild
on my ancient knee.

I don't think this
is a police matter, is it, sir?

No.

Thanks, Mrs Goffe.

Good luck, both of you.

Funny thing, taste.

His?

Hers.

Though Sansome did seem heartfelt
about needing her.

Listen, I might as well tell you.

Dr Hobson knows already, but
I asked her to keep it under her hat
until I went public.

What?
Our Lyn's pregnant.

Oh. Congratulations.
Thanks.

That's why she wants me to slow down.

This Italian trip's
meant to be the start of that.

It's "nonno", I think,
Italian for "grandpa".

Yeah, yeah.

The thing is, my dad died young,
not much older than I am now.

And I want longer with my grandchild.

Lyn says retire now and move up
near them. So what do I do?

Stick it out... or take this chance
to chuck the job in?

Is it heavy?

Only at first.

It's Al Darlow. Leave a message
and I'll get back to you.

Please, Al, call me.

Sergeant Hathaway?

I'm looking through Winter's things

and I've found a stack
of surveillance photos of...

Caroline Hope - long-lens stuff.

His neighbours say he was spending
like it was going out of fashion.

When they asked him,
he winked and said...

"There's a fortune in secrets."

Making money from a secret
doesn't have to be blackmail.

He could have sold Caroline's
true identity.

Well, let's have her in on suspicion,
at least.

She had no alibi for Winter's murder.

We can't ask them to stop.

Cut through to Turl
and meet her back at St Gerard's.

When you're married to Gina, perhaps
you won't need to worry about money,

although Father Mancini
and his plans would have to wait.

I'll give it some thought.

Much appreciated.

Another one.

I never even noticed apostrophes
before I met you.

Hathaway. Yeah?

When?

How old?

No. Thanks, yeah.

The Naptons' daughter
killed herself four years ago,

never dealt with her parents' death,
but she had a son.

Do we know his name?
No, but he'd be in his 40s.

This is about revenge.

It's always been about revenge.

The signs at the farm, remember?
Yeah, "Bean's, tomato's..."

There was one for fertiliser.

And who's the obvious customer
for fertiliser?

Can I have my camera?
What do you think?

Serious kit, Felix, yeah.

"A death as full of horror
as my life of sin."

He's been practising a confession,
a suicide note.

Considerate.
Yeah, not his, though.

Caroline's.

You'll walk it.

Let me get this stuff off.

Stay. I won't be long.

He's got her confessing
to all of them...

Winter for blackmailing her,
the Bishop by mistake,

Swain to eliminate him
from the election,

and Ben so that his mother
would stand down.

Then he puts, "Even if I win,
I can't hide my true nature any more

and I know that
I am beyond redemption.

That's why I must take my own life."

You took my grandad and my gran.

Then my dad, who couldn't live with
Mum's grief and walked out on us.

Then my mum, who killed herself
after years of nothingness.

And you sail through life, thinking
all the bad stuff's behind you.

Well, it's not.

Winter thought
you were a horrid little girl.

I paid him to help me trace you.

But then he was curious
to get a look at you all grown up,

so I treated him
to a little Oxford break.

You see, if I'd just killed you,

then you'd have died Caroline Hope,
who turned her life around,

instead of Sally Bond,

the same horrid little girl

who just couldn't stop herself
from killing again and again

to get what she wanted.
What you did made me what I am!

And now I can get on with my life

while the world
spits on your memory.

In The Atheist's Tragedy,

Levidulcia gets a final speech
before she commits suicide.

You won't.

She didn't leave a note, though.

You will.

Excuse me.

Where's Caroline?

"In detestation of my deed,

I seal it with a death as
full of horror as my life of sin."

Stage direction...

"Stabs herself."

Aargh!

Proceed with the sale
of the Castellis.

And may God bless
your Italian endeavours.

Grazie mille, signora.

Have you informed that woman
that she's won?

Not yet.

Thanks.

Thank you.

"Revenge is a kind of wild justice

which the more man's nature runs to,

the more ought law to weed it out."

Maybe that's what we're for.

This... change of direction
opportunity for me
with Professor Pinnock...

it depends on whether
you take early retirement.

Well, I wouldn't bank on there
being an Inspector vacancy if I go.

Jean Innocent
might just decide not to fill it.

Still, you stay if I go, fair enough.
That's not what I'm saying.

What I'm saying is, if you go, I go.

Who else would... understand me?

Look at that.

What do you need God for
when we've got that?

God is in everything.

Do you know what
St Thomas Aquinas said?

Was it... "Same again, please"?

Near enough.

Una birra, per favore.