All language subtitles for Strike.S05E01.Part1.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb.eng

You have one saved message.

Received yesterday at 10:14.

I'm not really calling for anything.

I just hope
you're doing okay down there.

Maybe speak later?

Sorry.

I'm sorry.

I recognize you from the papers.

- You're the detective.
- No problem.

You're probably off duty, aren't you?

Been watching that sail
but not in a professional capacity.

I can see you're probably on holiday,

- and I don't want to intrude, but...
- Anna.

You said you wouldn't.

I know. I couldn't help it.

I came out of the loo,
and you just vanished.

I just think I have to try.

Can I ask what this is about?

I have a case.

I don't know if you'd even call it that,

but I'd give anything
if you could spare ten minutes

just to hear me out.

All right.

It's about a woman
who went missing a long time ago,

in 1974.

Her name was Margot Bamborough.

On the night she went missing,

she was meant to be meeting
her friend in the pub,

but she stayed on to see a patient.

- Didn't leave any details.
- It's okay.

I'm gonna be so late for Oonagh.

It's horrible out there.

Good night, then.

Good night, Dr. Bamborough.

It should have been
a quick five-minute walk

between the surgery and the pub.

But she was never seen again.

Margot Bamborough was my mother.

I didn't find out about her
until I was eight years old.

- Are you Anna Phipps?
- Yes.

Is that picture for your mum?

Yes.

- Which one is she?
- The one in the brown coat.

That's not your mum.

Your real mum
was a doctor called Margot.

She got her head cut off.

Darling, what's wrong?

That's not true.

Wait here.

How dare you say that to my child?

After that, my entire world fell apart.

When I asked my dad about my mum,

he said that no one knew
what had happened to her.

He said he'd done
what he thought was best,

that I had Cynthia for a mother,

and Cynthia loved me,
and that ought to be enough.

Pretty soon, everyone
who knew my mum will be dead.

And then I'll never know
what happened to her.

The police admit they messed up the case,
but they won't reopen it.

I have money.

I know it's probably hopeless,

but I just feel I have to try something.

Will you help me?

Please.

Hiya.

How's Shifty?

They've been in there
for two whole days.

I've not managed a photo.

Why are the jobs that pay a lot
always so boring?

I've taken on a missing-person case.

Missing since 1974.

Gonna see the client again
in Falmouth tomorrow.

I'll drive down.

- It's a long way.
- I don't mind. I'm already in London.

If I set off now,
I can be in Cornwall by...

next month.

Next year if I get a puncture.

Text me the address.
I'll see you tomorrow.

Yeah.

How's Joan doing?

Results back today.

Okay, let me know.

Yeah, text you the address.

Bye.

What do you think?

We have to see what the doctors say.

Go from there.

Lucy had a look on the Internet.

She says they can treat
almost anything now.

I can do that.

Hello, Joanie.

Come on, Joanie, sit down now.

Don't tell me to sit down.

Well?

What'd they say?

It's all quite straightforward, really.

I have to take some drugs,

and then there might be an operation,

and then that'll be it.

I wish you'd let me come
to these things, Joanie.

Don't be silly. There's no need.

Which drugs are they using?

It's all written down.

That's good.

I'll take a look at the notes.

They in your bag?

You didn't finish the potatoes.

This pie looks good, Ted.

Thanks.

When's Lucy getting here?

In about an hour.

We need to get these potatoes on.

Her boys will be hungry.

What you working on?

Or are you sworn to secrecy?

No, I've got a meeting in Falmouth.

From the address,

I got the land registry deeds,
which list the owners.

One of them is Anna Phipps.

If you run a search on her, it turns out
her mum went missing in 1974.

This is the main suspect.

Dennis Creed, seven known victims.

He strikes up a conversation,
offers them a drink,

but the drink is drugged.

When they wake up, they discover
they're in Creed's basement.

Wait.

I think that's Ollie Boorman
doing the narration.

He was Lear to my Edmund in Birmingham.

Walking in there, you smell it.

He hadn't hidden things.

We found parts of his victims

in the sink, in the bath, in the fridge.

It's the worst crime scene
I've ever visited, hands down.

Seven victims identified,

but the police fear there were others
who were never found.

October, 1974...

Dr. Margot Bamborough leaves work
to meet her friend for a drink.

A witness sees a struggle
between two people,

but nobody intervenes.

A van speeds from the scene...

all the hallmarks of Dennis Creed.

But the Demon of Paradise Park
offers no answers.

He guards his secrets

and feeds off the pain
he creates with his silence.

You're investigating a serial killer?

Well, no one proved
Dennis Creed killed Margot Bamborough.

Technically,
she's still a missing person.

You got all that
from an address in Cornwall?

I had a boyfriend in the late '90s
who I would love to track down.

Well, I better get packing.
I've got an early start.

- Night.
- Night.

Hi, it's Matt.

Can you hear me?

Aren't we meant to be communicating
through lawyers?

I'm just trying to save you time.

Emily, I'm not happy
with the settlement agreement.

So tell that to your lawyer.

Yeah, we can do it that way,

as long as you realize I can
outspend you in legal fees four time...

Dickhead.

I can't run you out to Falmouth, can I?

I like taking the ferry.
Reminds me of when we were kids.

Wooden death trap.

You'll figure this out, won't ya?

You're good at that.

Ready.

- See you in a bit.
- Yeah.

One for the road?

Please don't become an alcoholic
on top of everything else.

I can't bear it.

I've spoken to Mum
twice a week for 20 years.

She's not our mother.

Leda gave birth to me,
and she did bugger all else.

Joan and Ted actually wanted us.

This is the only place
I've ever called home.

Well, you live in South London.

God, will you knock it off?

You keep forgetting I bloody know you.

Running around looking
for puzzles to solve,

anything to avoid a real conversation.

Maybe it isn't the same.

I chose Joan, and you chose Leda.

At least I ended up with someone.

Leda didn't love anyone except herself.

Joan thinks you should marry Robin.

Stop it.

Give me one good reason why not.

I'd fuck it up.

I'd lose a friend
as well as a business partner.

That's two reasons.
There's a longer list.

See ya in a few weeks.

Stick, I love you.

A staff Christmas party

filmed ten months
before she disappeared.

This is the last known footage
of Dr. Margot Bamborough.

Detective Inspector Bill Talbot

led the investigation
into her disappearance.

At this point, it's my belief

that Dr. Bamborough has been abducted.

Her husband, Dr. Roy Phipps,
is not a suspect.

This has been and continues to be

a very difficult time
for Dr. Phipps and his family.

Their daughter, Anna, would grow up

never knowing what had happened
to her mother.

- Cormoran's got his ties here now.
- Yeah, but he's not from here, is he?

I'm talking about what's best for them.

Look, I know you love them,
but so do we,

and we can actually be here for them,
and that's the difference.

You'll be back in a month.

Stop telling me what I'll do!

I said I'll probably be back.

You can't be that way with children.

- Children need certainty.
- They're my kids, Joan.

I just love him, Cor.

I need a few days
to see if we can make it.

Okay.

So how's Joan?

It is what it is.

I've got biscuits.

Thanks, I'm not hungry.

Should I talk you through the case?

Yeah.

Here she is.

Mum's the tall one,

and that's her friend, Oonagh.

Dad probably cleared out her office

and shoved everything into the attic.

He doesn't know I have all this.

I'm sorry if it's all junk,

but it's the only thing
I have to offer you.

Please don't approach Dad.

He's very frail now,

and things between us
are still difficult.

I don't want him to know
we're doing this.

Has anyone investigated before,
other than the police?

Well, I tried.

There was a book written
by a man called Carl Oakden.

He was the son of someone
who worked with Mum.

Maybe I shouldn't have read it,
but I did.

It implied Mum was having an affair

with her ex-boyfriend.

I found I just couldn't get that
out of my head.

The good thing about the book
was that there lots of names

of people who knew Mum.

So I started calling them.

I'd accepted that she was
almost certainly dead, but...

I still wanted to know her.

And did you find out anything new?

I was sent a locket in the post, anonymously,

with a note attached saying,
"I want you to have this."

I showed it to Dad.
He went totally white.

Mum was wearing her locket
the night she vanished.

The detective who ran the case
confirmed that.

This one?

And do you think your mum
might have sent it to you?

I don't know.

No, probably not. I...

Dad said it wasn't even the same locket.

It just looked similar.

And then he said
that I'd encouraged the hoaxers

to have another crack at us,

and if I carried on,
then he'd cut me out of his life.

So I stopped.

Who was the detective you spoke to?

Inspector Simon Layborn.

His son, George, is on the force.
He's a mate of ours.

What happened to the locket?

Dad threw it away.

You have to understand
this is a very cold case.

The odds are we won't find answers,
and it will cost a lot getting there.

I'd suggest you set a limit
on the budget.

Yeah, that's a good idea.

We'll discuss it,
and we'll get back to you.

Here's my details.

Psychologist?

Everyone wants to tell me
about their mothers.

I suppose that makes you
my competition now.

It would help if we had a list of people
you are happy for us to talk to.

We could start with the ones
you've contacted.

So what do you think?

Margot's friend Oonagh
has an 01962 area code.

That's Winchester.

Drop in on our way back.

How'd you remember that?

Charlotte.

You've reached
Detective Inspector George Layborn.

Please leave a message.

George, it's Cormoran Strike.

I think your old man worked
on a case we're looking at.

Give me a call when you can.

Hopefully the Met would've done
most of the work already.

They didn't find her, though.

- Hi, Oonagh.
- Hello, there.

Sorry it's such short notice.

Don't be sorry.
I've waited years for this.

Come on in.

I'm surprised Roy didn't hire someone.

Lord knows he has the money.

Is it Anna that's paying?

- Yes.
- God bless that girl.

What she's gone through...

You know, I'll be crying my eyes out
when I start talking about Margot.

Don't let that be stopping you.

That was the night cleaners
going on strike.

All those girls had terrible pay,

and it was dangerous, too,
walking home on your own.

How was Margot involved?

Anything to do
with women's pay or conditions,

she put her neck out.

We grew up poor.

Sometimes a pound in your pocket

was better than all
the fancy academic theories.

She read those, too.

Yes, she did.

She was clever.

I told ya.

Go ahead, darling. Ask your questions.

Maybe you could begin by telling us
how you got to know Margot.

Okay.

We...

we met in 1966,

when we started to work at the club.

- Stop biting your nails.
- Sorry.

I get nervous.

Men come here to relax.

You are charming, attentive, relaxed.

Drinks, table six.

Did you see?

Gazelles, not hippos.

Small talk, Margot.

Difficult week, darlin'?

How's about some liver damage
to finish you off?

That's a demerit.

Come on, I was only joking.

Please.

I'm sorry.

You'll earn it back in tips,

which will happen,

provided you keep
that tongue of yours in check.

No tongues.

Understood.

Dolly, you're next.

Middle-class girls

can burn their bras
and stop shaving their legs.

Girls like us did what we had to do.

There was nowhere in London
that paid the way that club did.

Paid better than our daddies earned,

and she was studying
all the time as well.

Distal, middle, proximal.

And then the metacarpals

and the fracture descriptions
are head, shaft...

She lived on sugar.

She did.

And she never put on an ounce either.

Perfect.

The men loved her.

Couldn't date them, though. No.

They sent detectives in to make sure
we were behaving ourselves.

If we gave out our phone number,
that was it.

But Margot wasn't interested anyway.

Leastways, not till
she met Paul Satchwell.

He was an artist.

She lost her head over him.

It was her first great love.

Come on, there's something
I want to show you.

I bought it at his exhibition.

It's the only painting I ever bought.

I was afraid that someone might see it

and tell her parents.

For a long time, I put it away, but...

seeing that it was
Satchwell that made it, but...

That fades, you know.

Now I see Margot,

and I'm just glad that I have it.

What didn't you like about Satchwell?

I think he killed her.

She caught him cheating once.

Heartbroken.

And then she got worried

because she let him
take pictures of her.

Imagine if they'd shown up
in some dirty magazine...

for Mammy's brilliant girl
doing things like that.

You can't come here
whenever you fucking want!

- I want the negatives.
- They are not your negatives!

- But it's my body!
- It's my art!

Give them back, now!

I'm not sure you can afford my work.

Margot!

You ever show those pictures to anyone,

if they ever show up in print...

Margot!

I'll go to the police
and tell them all about you.

Open the door now,
or I'm calling the police!

Open it!

Don't you ever come near her again!

- What's she told you?
- I haven't told her anything!

Then don't ask,

because the day that I find out
she's been talking about me,

that's her last day and yours.

Do you understand me?

Fuck off.

What was he doing?

Margot never said.

But if he took pictures of her,

then maybe he was involved
in something like that.

I just don't know.

Anna told us that Satchwell came back

into Margot's life
around the time she disappeared.

Is it possible they were seeing
each other again?

Well, she wasn't happy with Roy.

Maybe Satchwell reminded her
of easier days.

She loved the job,
but she wasn't especially close

to her colleagues.

More than anything,
I think she was feeling lonely.

Roy's not speaking to me.

Satchwell's not the answer
to your problems with Roy.

I told Roy I was gonna meet him.

- Why?
- I don't know.

I just...

I wanted him to think about losing me
so that maybe he'd make an effort.

- It just made him angry.
- At least he felt something.

How you feeling, Kevin?
Would you like a lemonade?

He's had four.

He'll get a bad tum.

Who's the guy in the shirt?

Margot, knock it off.

What are you talking about?

You're a married woman.
You need to behave yourself.

Ignore her. She's pissed.

- I'll get you a glass of water.
- Just saying.

I know the woman was drunk,

but a part of me thought,

"She's not wrong about you, Margot."

I mean, Satchwell was telling her
she's more beautiful than ever,

how she's his muse.

And she needed some of that.

It sounds like Satchwell

wanted to get back together with her,
not to hurt her.

The day she disappeared,

she rang me and said she wanted to talk
about something urgent.

Well, maybe she wanted to tell me
his big secret

and he got wind of that

and decided that he would do
what he said he'd do...

make it her last day on Earth.

No chance she ran off with him?

She'd never have left Anna.

I pray that you'll find her.

I think it's unlikely she's still alive.

I know that.

But the dead never
really disappear, do they?

Not while they're loved.

The carousel you asked for
got delivered. I put it in your office.

Would a thank-you kill you?

Thank you, Pat.

- Robin here yet?
- Yeah.

Yeah, she got in before me.

Eager little beaver, that one.

No movement on Shifty, yeah?

- I'm gonna try and work his PA.
- Keep knowing your hours.

- Morning.
- Hey.

What are we looking at?

I got in touch with Margot's colleague,
Dr. Gupta.

He's just sent through the footage
he shot at their last Christmas party.

He said he'd be happy to meet with us.

- Can you send me that?
- It's in the shared folder.

I found Paul Satchwell.

He's living on a Greek island.

Shall I drop him a line?

Keep it vague.
Don't want him to go underground early.

- When are we doing presents?
- What presents?

Your partner's birthday is today.

The rest of us got her presents.

Ilsa, I need an idea for Robin.

What does she usually wear?

I have no idea what the name is.

Do you know what kind of scent it is?

Do you mean what does she smell like?

Could you just recommend something?

Yeah, we could try carnal flower.

No.

Okay, well, this one is popular,
and it's really lovely.

- Doesn't that mean...
- In your arms.

Strike Detective Agency, can I help you?

Happy birthday.

Got you these.

Thank you. That's nice.

I've not heard anything.

Sorry I'm still in here. I'm going
through all the stuff Anna gave us.

No.

Could look for somewhere else,
but everything's open plan now.

Is that a problem?

Thanks so much.

I need a door between me and Pat.

She's good at her job.

Why did you ask her
for that slide projector?

George Layborn's bringing in
the original case files.

He said we'd need one.

Found anything?

Well, not really.

But the main thing is this.

I found it inside
a pharmacy supplies order form.

Someone was threatening to kill her.

"Leave my girl alone, you cunt,

or I'll send you to hell
slow and painful."

The police never saw this?

"My girl" could be someone's daughter
or someone's girlfriend.

Maybe Satchwell had met someone new,

and Margot was trying
to warn them off him.

- George.
- Got four big boxes here.

I could use a bit of extra muscle.

I'll buzz you in.

- You all right with that?
- Yeah, fine.

Good of you to do this, George.

Doing it for the old man.

He talked a lot about this one.

Felt bad about the way
the case was handled.

You know about the lead detective?

- That was your dad, wasn't it?
- No.

No, my dad got put on it
after the first guy went crackers...

D.I. Talbot.

Fair play, he figured out someone
was abducting women around North London,

and when Margot Bamborough went missing,
she got put into his investigation.

The sad thing is he wasn't even
the one that put Creed away.

He'd lost it by then,
and Dad got almost nothing from Talbot,

so he had to start from scratch.

What happened to all of Talbot's notes?

He wasn't in any kind of condition
to answer questions...

long stay on the psych ward.

What did your dad think
happened to Margot Bamborough?

In full, on balance,
it was probably Creed,

but there's no solid evidence,
and Creed won't confirm or deny it.

What I will say is, if it wasn't Creed,

it was someone who knew
what they were doing.

How's that?

Well, for starters, it's not easy
getting rid of a body, right?

They smell.
Bones get dug up, stuck in drains.

But Dr. Bamborough vanished.

A five-minute walk in Central London,
not even late night,

sober, not stupid.

She's never seen again.

For me, that's an argument
against it being Creed.

His flat was full
of trophies and body parts

from the seven women
that we know he killed.

Nothing from Dr. Bamborough.

- Fancy a look?
- Yeah, why not?

Still recovering from them bloody boxes.

This is called
"Case Overview and Persons of Interest."

Margot Bamborough,

GP and partner
at St. John's Medical Practice.

Here we have the staff.

We've got Dorothy Oakden, secretary,

Janice Beattie, practice nurse.

Dr. Margot Bamborough, Dr. Dinesh Gupta,

Dr. Joseph Brenner,

Gloria Conti and Irene Hickson,
both receptionists.

Gloria Conti...

...sees Margot leaving the office at 6:15,

running late to meet
her friend Oonagh Kennedy

in The Three Kings Pub.

Oonagh confirmed
Margot's usually punctual.

Around 6:45, Oonagh calls Margot's home,
speaks to the nanny, Cynthia,

who confirms that Margot isn't at home
and hasn't called.

Letter A

marks where a struggle between two women
is seen happening,

but these woman are later identified

as Mrs. Flurry and her elderly mother.

Letter B

marks where a witness sees a white van
traveling at speed.

Letter C is St. John's Medical Practice.

Suspects...

Roy Phipps.

9:00 p.m., Margot's husband, Roy,
calls the police.

Now, this is good. Listen to this.

These are notes from your dad's
first interview with Roy Phipps.

You told our officers
you thought she might've run off

with a man named Paul Satchwell?

Apparently that wasn't the case.

Why did you think that at the time?

He was an old friend of hers.

I knew he'd been sniffing around.

So you thought she was having an affair?

I said no such thing.

I suggested it was worth checking.

I went over all this
with Detective Talbot.

Have you not read his notes?

Now look at the local files.

I can see you experienced
some vandalism around that time...

car tires, broken window.

Yobs, that's all.

I won't keep you much longer.

Your alibi for the night
your wife disappeared.

You were ill in bed.

That was confirmed
by your child's nanny.

- Is that right?
- Yes, that's right.

Can you describe
your relationship to the nanny?

Employer.

And has your relationship
to Anna's nanny

ever been more than just employer?

Cynthia is 12 years younger than me.

- She's 18.
- I have to ask these questions.

She's also my cousin.

"Is that a 'no,' for the record?"

"No."

What?

Roy and Cynthia got married
seven years later.

Classic!

- He had a weak alibi.
- Is he still alive?

Yes, but he's off-limits,
client's orders.

This guy...

Paul Satchwell, might be the reason

Roy Phipps doesn't want to talk
about Margot.

He's got an alibi.

Seen eating in a cafA� in Camden
at 6:30...

several witnesses.

Have to say that one sounds solid.

Last patient Margot saw before leaving.

Patient gave their name as Theo.

Police put out a big call
for them to come forward

but weren't able to trace them.

Finally, this is
another patient of Margot's...

"double-glazing salesman,
Steve Douthwaite,

described as a ladies' man,

visited Dr. Bamborough three times
in the last week,

believed to have sent her gifts,
which he denied.

Friends said he wasn't actually unwell."

People lie about their health
all the time, though, don't they?

Here we go.

"Steve Douthwaite medical records

obtained under warrant."

Complained about headaches,

upset stomach, palpitations,
trouble sleeping.

Margot noted stress and anxiety,

couple of cracked ribs as well.

Double glazing's a tough trade.

This article came out around six days
after Margot disappeared.

How'd you do that?
It took you about four seconds.

I've got a subscription
to a newspaper archive.

The papers date back
around to the 1800s.

"Police are anxious
to trace the whereabouts

of Steve Douthwaite,

who left his flat
shortly after Dr. Bamborough

was reported missing."

- They find him, though?
- Must have done.

They tracked him down in Waltham Forest
by the looks of things.

He's interviewed there
in February, 1975.

I was looking to move
even before the doctor disappeared.

I honestly was.

I've been looking at flats.

Could you tell us
which flats you looked at?

We can check them
with the letting agents.

Yeah, I don't...

I've been looking in the paper ads.

And you've no alibi

for the evening
Dr. Bamborough went missing?

I can't imagine one up, can I?

I was home on me own.

Been having a shit time,
not going out much.

Douthwaite sounds fishy as fuck.

If all of Talbot's notes went missing,
how come this interview is in files?

I'm guessing
it's a local police station transcript.

No, Dad did his best to get ahold
of any work related to the case,

but he basically had to start again.

There's more.

Listen to this.

Have you been having any unusual dreams?

What?

Describe your dreams during the period
you knew Margot Bamborough.

When was Talbot taken off the case?

March or April, 1975.

But they interviewed
Steve Douthwaite twice more.

"Suspect analysis concluded no progress
possible without new evidence."

Dead end.

I'll try and track him down.

A lot of these people are gonna be
in their 70s or 80s.

Start by searching
for death certificates.

It'll save you some time.

Our other suspect is Dennis Creed.

He was caught a year after
this slide deck was put together.

He killed at least seven women.

He lived in Paradise Park, Islington,

and he was active during the time
of Margot's disappearance.

He's still alive, isn't he?

Do you think
we'd be able to talk to him?

He'd string you along for fun.
He's never given up anything useful.

Thank you, George.

I remember Anna Phipps
coming over to our house to talk to Dad.

She must've made quite an impression.

Yeah. Pretty girl.

She had all her questions
laid out for Dad like a pro.

She just couldn't stop crying.

Didn't even remember her mum,
still ripped a hole in her life.

Dad would want me to help.

You need anything from me, you call me.

I'll do it.

D.I. Talbot's details
if you've got them.

Dad didn't just go mad.

He had an overactive thyroid,

which wasn't diagnosed
until he was in hospital.

He'd have trouble sleeping as well.

Once he was treated, he improved.

I'm glad he got better.

We need to improve.

Need to get better
at making accommodations, don't we?

Can't just cast people out
when they get sick.

Milk, sugar?

Yes, more, the merrier. Thanks.

Sorry to go on.

A few of the families
blamed him for screwing up

the investigation of Creed,
and it wasn't like that.

He worked incredibly hard on that case.

I was there. I remember it.

How old were you at the time?

Ten.

I stuffed up my eleven-plus,

not that it mattered.

This is all to help Anna Phipps.

There won't be articles about him.

I'm happy to put that in writing.

He and Mum used to go to church,

and I really think
that that influenced his thinking

when he became unwell.

He was looking for evil.

When did you realize
how unwell he was getting?

He started sprinkling salt...

outside our bedroom doors,

me and my brother.

Well, that's what I mean.

He was always a good man.

He thought
that he was protecting us, and...

Well, look...

I can show you.

This used to be Dad's study.

He mostly kept it locked.

That's Baphomet.

Mum found him crying in here,
called an ambulance,

and that was that.

- Can I?
- Yeah.

- Must've been frightened.
- For him.

Yes.

I was.

Mum cleared out this room
while he was in hospital,

and when he came home,
he never talked about it.

Creed had been caught by then.

So it was all over anyway.

They still haven't found
Margot Bamborough, though.

Your father did a lot of work
on that case.

Another man redid the work.

Still, I doubt your dad's work
was a waste of time,

and I can't imagine a policeman's wife
junking his case files.

If any of his work survived,

there's a chance
it could still help someone now.

Yes.

I think he would have wanted that.

All I'd ask is don't judge him.

I won't.

- You'll say that.
- Greg, I've had PTSD.

I've woken up
convinced I'm being shot at.

It's not just me. My...

friend had a panic attack
while driving, nearly killed us both.

I don't judge her for that.

It's just hard when people think
someone you love fell short.

I hope Dad can help you.

Thank you.

Working late?

Client turned up.

And I couldn't leave him in your office
on his own, could I?

No, I couldn't.

I'll be off now, though.

Hey, bro.

How've you been?

God, you are hard to get ahold of.

I started thinking to myself,
"Now, what would my brother do?

He'd make an appointment."

I'm happy to pay for it,
so, you know, don't be pissed.

No charge.

I do have to work, though.

Pat, you still there?

Would it kill you to walk next door
instead of shouting for me?

Could you get ahold of a film projector
and a screen?

- Please?
- Happy to.

16 mill or 8?

It's super 8.

I think she likes you.

Hey, listen...

Dad knows he's made a mess of things.

But you got to understand,
when you came along,

his marriage broke up,

and the whole scene
around the band got super druggy.

What do you want, Al?

Well, they're dropping
a new record to mark 50 years,

and we're throwing a party.

It'd mean the world if you came.

No.

Anything else?

Maybe give him a chance...

'cause like it or not, he's our father,

and he's trying to make things right.

Al...

I like you.

I don't want a fallout.

But it's a no.

Okay.

I love you, bro.

Just think it over.

Looks like Talbot based an entire theory
around the zodiac.

Yeah.

I can't stand all that stuff.

- What sign are you?
- No idea.

Come on, everyone knows their star sign.

Don't pretend you're above it.

Sagittarius, Scorpio rising,
sun in the first house.

Now, I only know that because my mum
was crazy about that shit.

What the hell does
"sun in the first house" mean?

It doesn't mean anything.

Look at this, though.

"The killer is Capricorn.

Capricorn kills Julie W."

It definitely looks
like he had a suspect in mind.

A horned goat deity?

Try getting one of those to court.

You can be insane and right
at the same time.

Sounds like something
you'd read on a fridge magnet.

I just don't think we can discount
all of Talbot's theories

just because he got ill.

Well, if we look at his notes,

he clearly thinks it's a single person

killing women in North London.

To be fair, most people do think
Dennis Creed killed Margot.

Yeah, but there's no proof.
This is someone with an obsession.

It's not good police work.

Well, I don't...

- This is the one it needs.
- Brilliant, thanks.

It's 100-pound deductible
if you break it.

Right, well, I'm not gonna break it.

Can't say I didn't warn you.

Could you hit the lights
on your way out?

Happy to.

- She's very efficient.
- You were efficient.

I didn't want to throw you
out the window.

High praise, indeed.

Right.

Here we go.

Taylor says it's a home movie
of Talbot summoning the dead.

Is that Margot?

Cormoran, what is this?

Sorry to drag you back here,
but you need to see this.

That's one of the worst things
I've ever seen.

Are you sure that's Margot Bamborough?

She's the right height and build.

We'll try and find out
if Margot had a scar on her torso.

Husband would know.

Off-limits.

Right, tricky, then.

- What about medical records?
- They were in the files.

Nothing about a scar or a surgery.

We found this note
in Margot's personal papers.

"Leave my girl alone, you"...

"Or I'll send you to hell,
slow and painful."

You missed a word.

And you think that's this threat
being carried out?

Looks slow and painful to me.

There's something I want to take
another look at it.

Do you mind?

I think I've seen the ring
somewhere before.

There.

Shit.

Looks like it's mostly okay.

- Did you get a picture?
- Yeah.

Where have you seen that ring before?

The Christmas party footage
Dr. Gupta sent you.

Those two men by the door.

Yeah.

The image isn't great.
The ring's on the same finger.

It's the same size.

Any idea who he is?

No, but the girl they're leaving with
is the receptionist, Gloria Conti.

As far as we know, she's the last person
that saw Margot alive.

Obviously, we're gonna need
to hand this over to the Met,

but that's gonna tie our hands.

Can you give us a few days,
see what we can dig up for the client?

It's been half a century.
A few days won't hurt.

When you do bring it in,
it's the first I've heard of it.

Understood.

How you holding up, Robin?

I don't think I've ever been
so angry in my life.

I don't care if it's been half a century
or half an hour.

That man has to pay
for what he did to her.