All language subtitles for The Bletchley Circle_ San Francisco - 01x01 - Presidio.MTB.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

What is the answer that I shall give

in your name to this great man,

the thrice-chosen head
of a nation of 130 million?

Here is the answer which I will give
to President Roosevelt.

Put your confidence in us,

give us your faith and your blessing,

and under providence, all will be well."

Fifteen months ago, that
was Churchill's message to the Americans.

Today, their soldiers stand
shoulder to shoulder with our own

as the emergent States finally
enters the war...

Look Out

I have the honour...

I have the honour...

to inform Your Excellency...

The same familiar formality is here,

but after that we kept
getting stuck. Why?

A shift in the frequency of occurrence.

It's a Pacific communique.

Run this over to B block.
They can share it with Uncle Sam.

Why? We keep asking the Yanks to share
information with us, but they never do.

They're fighting on two fronts, Claire.

They'll send a thank-you card
when they can.

The Americans do everything with
our help and what do we get back?

They're arriving here as we speak.
Swanning around town,

tossing money, I... Defending our shores.

What if we tell them we'd only
share this decryption here

if they give us something in return?

Claire, B block, now!

Damn, bloody Yanks!

They're not so bad, you know.
They come bearing chocolate.

Well, I'm holding out for a whole
lot more than a Hershey's D bar.

Why not try a taste?
There's a dance tonight.

GIs looking to cut a rug.

Word is they're also going around
town saying England deliberately

held back cracking JN-25.

Claire, come and meet some Americans.

We're all in this together.

You deliberately sought to withhold
information from our allies.

It was nothing but a stupid huff.

I was going to fetch it out of the bin
and deliver it as you asked. Trust me.

I'll have a hard time doing that now.

- Please, Ms McBrian, turn a blind eye.
- I can't.

You've been transferred
to a clerical position in Bristol.

- Bristol! What will I do there?
- Learn from this, I hope.

You're a smart girl, Claire,
but this is war.

Can I get you anything, ma'am?

A heart. Seems mine is made of coal.

I'll buy the girl a drink tonight.
Send her off in style.

Watch out, girls,
you're on the devil's arm.

They tell us the boys are on
our side, but I know better.

Another fly boy looking for a khaki lass.

Look at you all.
Apple pie and Fourth of July.

And, oh, yes, showing up late for war.

Oh, nothing to say for yourself,
as I figured.

Another coward.

I don't think so.

What is it? Someone call the police.

Absolutely dreadful.

Oh, my God.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

She sounds frightful,
doesn't she, Ms Harcourt?

Your sister's making progress.

Let's see if the same can be said for
you and your grasp of current events.

Chicago Tribune, New York Times.

San Francisco Chronicle.

Father says it's a poor man's
vacation reading a foreign paper.

Except he's nose-deep in them himself.

Art of war. Know yourself and your enemy.

Except England vanquishes its enemies.

- So why study history?
- To help shape your future, Frederick.

- And shape yours, too, I suppose.
- And how do you do that?

When I inherit Father's seat
in the House of Lords,

I'll rule over you.

All the more reason
to knuckle down today.

Now, regarding the recent
Moroccan and Tunisian

declarations of independence,

explain five divergences
between British...

I'm interested in
reporting on this fellow,

Elvis Presley. Have you heard of him?

He's wrote a song called
Heartbreak Hotel.

Frederick, you must take this seriously.

If you do hope to rule over me,
then you'd best come...

...prepared.

- Lesson's over.
- You can't just leave!

You're my governess.

San Francisco Chronicle?
Even we don't carry that one.

The article's about the murder
of a woman named Ruby Anderson.

Murdered in a district
called the Fillmore, the...

The police claimed no leads,

say it's simply a neighbourhood
riddled with crime.

It's a shame when blight strikes a city.

Jean, look at the photo.

It's exactly the same
as was done to Claire.

- Even the drawing on her palm.
- Good Lord.

The killer writes letters to the paper
about angels who ascend to God.

Silent gifts, a box on holy palms.

You should take this to Scotland Yard,

- see if they'll reopen Claire's case.
- They will pat my leg

and send me on my merry way.
Help me, Jean.

Susan and Alice are busy with
their lives. Lucy has her new baby.

But you and I...

What, you're suggesting
we travel to San Francisco?

Oh, the library will grant you
a few weeks' leave,

and I know you've got some money
squirrelled away somewhere.

I'm not spending my savings on
a steamer halfway around the world.

Then what's it for?

I have a cousin in San Francisco I'm
sure would put us up for a few weeks.

Jean, this could be a chance
to find some justice for Claire.

Millie, you're still out there

looking for something.
Me... I've already found it.

Thank you for coming in.

As you know, Her Majesty's diplomatic
service requires intelligence,

dedication, vigour.

And as my references and testing show,

- I come fully qualified to serve.
- In the war, you were clerical.

- Enhanced clerical.
- I'm not sure I quite understand...

It means, sir, that I did more
than I can say.

The position on offer is certainly
nothing I can't handle.

Well, relocating can be
an overwhelming proposition.

Imagine yourself posted to Hamburg
or Saigon or Bombay,

only to find the adjustment
is one you cannot...

I've adjusted to a great many
things in my time, Mr West.

You'd be required to resign
should you marry.

That will not be a problem.

Ms McBrian, you're a librarian
serving a modest collection.

It will be a steep climb to land
anywhere else.

Thank you for your consideration.

- Hello.
- Lock the door after you.

Jean, this is hardly
my first night here, chum.

So, I assume we're celebrating.

To what exotic outpost will
Her Majesty be sending you?

- They rejected me.
- Oh.

Oh, well, I say we pop it anyway.

I'm told this stuff doesn't keep,
but I've never had a bottle

long enough to test that hypothesis.

I think we need something a bit stronger.

I read your newspaper article.
The similarities are unnerving.

Well, that's exactly what
I was trying to tell you.

And if it's the same killer,
we have two problems.

Firstly...

...the man who strangled Claire
is especially savage.

He cut out the girl's tongue.

And secondly, if we are
to embark on this journey...

- Did you say "we"?
- IF we are,

we've no hope of navigating a new
city without the aid of locals.

- Well, there's my cousin Edward.
- No offence

to the Harcourt line, Millie,
but we need better.

This is correspondence
from one of our old SIS

counterparts in San
Francisco at the Presidio.

Now, he and I exchanged communiques
during the war.

I never knew his name.
He simply went by Major Sixth.

This was his farewell missive on VE Day.

Oh, wow. Never thought
I'd see one of these again.

You know, I often think if...

- ...if I hadn't fired her...
- Jean, you had to.

If I hadn't been so slavishly true to the
rules - and God knows others weren't...

...she wouldn't have gone out that night.

Yeah, to meet me.

I'm the one who asked her,
and before that,

I was the one who grassed her up
to you in the first place.

So, here we are. Both seeking redemption.

- What's the plain text?
- I never tried to crack it.

Frequency of use appears standard.
It looks like a substitution so far.

- Vigenere?
- Perhaps. Or Beaufort.

Tabula recta, zero to 26,
additional modulo 27.

Well, I have copies of
most of the tables here.

- We could try each one.
- What's the keyword, though?

My guess... it's the first word
on the Teletype.

"Victory."

"Should you ever visit our shores,
come find Bunk at the Big Bop."

Oh, Jean, you might get a date
out of this.

"In this court, men grow wiser
every day." What does that mean?

Well, we'll ask him when we find him.

- Hey, baby.
- Hey.

- Did you have a good day?
- Mm-hm.

You paid the electricity bill?

If you're hungry, I'll fix you something.

Off to City Hall. Isaac Harrisson
says the city is expanding.

They're rezoning areas by 60 blocks,
right on to our doorstep.

- City Hall gives a hoot what you think?
- They might after an all-night sit-in.

You cut that here.

You take a knife, you'll give them
a reason to get violent.

It's not gonna go like that.

Hm, so you're clairvoyant
and a rabble-rouser.

- I need you home by 10:00.
- Mom.

- It's an all-night protest.
- And you're at school tomorrow.

- They get nasty, you get nice, you hear?
- Yes, ma'am.

Seems our son is turning into
a regular Martin Luther King.

Or just taking after his mother.

- Hi, Mommy.
- Oh, Cadence, honey,

you should be in bed by now.

- But I wanted to see you.
- Oh, well, I'm glad you did.

I don't like getting home this late.

Why don't you take your book and
I'll come tuck you in, huh?

OK.

Joy from across the hall says she
saw you helping the Sawyers move.

Their jobs are in Oakland. Can't blame
a man for wanting to feed his family.

Keep them safe. I can blame you
for helping another family to leave.

Just being a good neighbour, Iris.

Well, he ain't our neighbour
any more now, is he?

That's another one gone.
Don't you be getting any ideas.

Hell, no, cos this... This is our home.

Unlike Frank Sawyer,
we don't back down from a fight.

Mm-mm.

And I thought Edinburgh was hilly.

Ooh, this is us.

Millie, look, a second victim.

All the more reason to find an ally.

Come on, I think the flat's this way.

Well, the view is lovely.

You sure you're gonna be all right
with those stairs?

Trunks came just now.

I tipped two gents a dollar each,
which I trust you're good for.

Oh, my cousin wrote and said that
we might get his best available.

This is it. City's been chock-full
since the war ended

and the navy discharged
its contents on our shore.

I swear half those men never left.

It will do. We won't be here long.

Just like the city, all this place
needs is a woman's touch.

My thoughts exactly. I wonder,
would you help us move this sofa?

- Move it?
- Yes. To a more cheery spot.

Like out the window?

Oh-ho, or in front of
the fireplace, maybe?

Hm, no.

No gentlemen visitors. My rules, not his.

They couldn't have taken us to the door?

Oh, can you blame them? I wouldn't brave
this neighbourhood unless I had to.

This place should lead us to Major Sixth.

- Can I help you?
- Er, we're looking for Bunk.

Yeah, this ain't Bunk's place no more.

- He owned it?
- Bunk Murphy was a Fillmore fixture.

Big Bop, West Coast.

Three Coins For Union Square,
you know it?

Oh, yes, yes, I think I
know that one, yeah.

Ah-ha.

- We'd like to meet him.
- You can't. He's dead.

Oh.

Major Sixth...

is that a key Mr Murphy ever wrote in?

- Major Sixth isn't a key.
- All right, then, what is it?

A chord, a mode of improvisation,
and, yeah, one Bunk was famous for.

A lot of people avoid it because
it's a hard one to improvise on.

One false note and the whole thing
just melts into a syrupy mess,

but in his hands, mm, it was magic.

You know, Bunk used to say

our memories always come to us
riding on a major-sixth chord.

You wanna hear some of what's in there,
his old band is playing tonight.

We'll be here.

- Is this their excuse for a chip?
- They call it a fry, apparently.

I call it an abuse of vegetables.

I'm sure you'll choke it down somehow.

Their deaths don't seem to be in the heart
of the Fillmore, more on the border.

If we could find our man, he would
help us navigate this rabbit warren.

There's one piece here called Ayli.
It's dedicated to Major Sixth.

So either he dedicated
the music to himself...

Or someone else is Major Sixth.

The plain text said we'd find him
at the Big Bop,

but that doesn't necessarily
mean that he's a musician.

Mm, they're delicious.

Yeah, don't worry about them.

Just some heavy ruffians trying
to fight progress.

Our proposal transformed the city.

We'll be looking at economic growth,
lower crime...

All those pretty old little houses
fixed right back up again.

The new Fillmore will be a model
for every city across the country.

Sounds like you got some folks none
too happy about leaving their homes.

Oh, they get to see the land of milk and
honey awaiting them on the far shore.

Oakland. Place with room enough.

They can spread their wings.

- Out of the city?
- Out of the city.

Worked for the Japs after Pearl Harbour.

That's cos the war let us toss 'em
into camps.

Harv...

I'm running for mayor in 18 months,
and I'll win,

because I'll have cleaned up
the city's worst neighbourhood.

Now, maybe... I don't know,

maybe you're not the big-thinking
developer I thought you were.

Cos if you don't want in,
I've got 20 more outside that do.

Not the safest thing

walking through the neighbourhood
of a known killer.

Well, you don't have to outrun him,
you only have to outrun me.

Easily done. You took that bullet for me.

Never.

My excuse to keep off the dance floor.

Welcome, ladies. You made it.

We're big fans of Bunk Murphy.

Three Coins For Union Square,
ever heard of it?

Ha, aren't you a funny one? You want
a table or 15 minutes on the mic?

Follow me.

We'd like to make a request.

Can your band play
this Bunk Murphy, please?

Oh, all right.

It's hardly a crowd-pleaser.

Come on, Iris. They're all the way
from across the pond.

All right, here it is, folks.
A request from our British friends.

This is Ayli, dedicated to
a mystery man he called Major Sixth.

Bunk Murphy.
Most people never heard of him.

You'd be surprised what makes it
across the Atlantic.

It's nice to hear it after so long.

Was a special one for me back in the war.

Clever title, Ayli. Shakespeare.

As You Like It. Oh, very clever.

We'd like to speak to its honoree,
Major Sixth.

Major? I'm the highest rank
you'll find around here.

I'm only a Sergeant, special forces.

- Still, a military man.
- Weren't we all at some point?

I'm just one of the fools who never left.

Hey, I'm taking a breather.

That's quite the mouldy thing
you tossed our way.

And beautifully played. I hope it
wasn't too much of an imposition.

Not at all.
I see you've met my husband Marcus.

Ladies, this is my beautiful wife Iris.

Baby, would you get me a drink?

That song's a pretty meaningful one.

So your husband was saying.
We need to talk to him.

The one you're looking for
is not my husband.

How do you know?

Men grow wiser every day,
or so I once thought.

Shakespeare.

You're Major Sixth?

I can't believe we found you.

This is Millie Harcourt.
I'm Jean McBrian.

You and I managed communiques
between Bletchley and the Presidio.

You remember that farewell code you sent?

It was a stupid lark.

- Now, what the hell do you want?
- We could do with your help.

We read about those terrible killings
in your neighbourhood.

Two dead now and he's threatening more.

We can't get the police here to give a
damn. Why would this turn your heads?

We think he did the same thing
to a girl we knew during the war.

We think we can find him. We just
need someone who knows the city.

People don't just walk in here
and solve crimes.

- We've done it before.
- Well, bully for you.

And I think, with your help,
we could do it again.

That is what I love about this place.
Never know who you gonna meet.

- Isn't that right, Iris?
- Oh, that's the truth.

Did you change the world last night?

Oh, you bet I did.

Folks out there, they
couldn't push us out.

That's cos you're a fighter.

You could be, too, Cadence.

Wanna distribute pamphlets
with me afterschool?

Mm. Nah. I'm gonna go play at Nancy's.

- No, not today, honey.
- Your mom's right.

After all, I am here on leave,

and time to take
my little girl for ice-cream.

OK. Ice-cream.

He's gone and killed another one. I know.

Your friend last night,
she gave me your address.

I'm glad she did. Come in.

- Iris. This is unexpected.
- Please, sit down.

- Would you like some tea?
- Oh, no.

It's been how many years since...?

14.

And you seriously think that this...

We have reason to believe
it is the same man, yes.

- And what is it you actually do?
- Same thing we did in the war.

Crack codes, tease out information,
recognise patterns.

What criminal leaves patterns?

They all do. They just don't know it.

- Life is patterns.
- And what if it isn't?

- What if this is just a copycat?
- We think we can test that question.

And if it is, we still get
justice, maybe not for Claire,

but for the women like her.

- And that would be everything?
- It would be enough.

There's someone I wanna bring on.

Do you trust them?

- Yes.
- Then so do we.

Maybe I'd better have that tea.

I got a house needs painting.

- Come on, fellas. It's a solid job.
- I'll do it.

I've seen you at the vets' hall.
How's your painting skills?

- Beggars can't be choosers.
- I ain't begging.

My daughter. Did up her room.

Nice mural. Bet the girl loves it.

I don't know. Haven't seen her since.

Get in.

Hailey Yarner, meet Millie and Jean.

- Jean! What's that short for?
- Jean.

Millie.

- You were how old in the war?
- Uh, ran away from the farm at 16.

Months later, I was working in San
Fran office of strategic services.

Isn't that child labour?

Hailey wasn't exactly forthcoming
about her age.

Wouldn't have mattered if I was.
They needed gals like me.

I started working in mechanical.

Didn't get up to any fancy
codebreaking like Sarge here,

but you need rigging, I can rig it.

You got a machine that needs fixing,
I can fix it.

I like to tinker and I'm
damn good at... Hailey.

Apologies. I'm just excited.

Sarge told me we were
gonna solve a murder.

Pardon the mismatched set.

My cousin seems to have furnished
the place with street debris.

- Loo is down the hall, by the way.
- Lou is your cousin?

Loo's the toilet, dear.

Oh. Right. Loo. I like it.

I'm gonna try and work it
into conversation.

Well, why don't we get this inside us
and visit the crime scene before dark?

OK. Oh, well, where to?

Well, we need to go to the Fillmore,

where Ruby Anderson's body was found.

That building's already been torn down.

Oh, I know where the latest gal
met her end. Do you wanna go?

- Any idea what we're looking for?
- Signs of a struggle. Blood.

The police may even
have chalked the floor.

I found her!

She's been done up like an angel.

Just like Claire all those years ago.

In his letters to the paper,
he talks about a box on holy palms,

which must be the box he draws
onto the victim's palm.

- A signature or a message?
- Do you remember what it looks like?

- How could I forget?
- Can you draw it?

- Looks to me like Hobo Code.
- What's Hobo Code?

I used to travel the rails when
I was young. That's how I got here.

Drifters wrote messages for the guys
who came after them.

"Kind lady lives here." "Beware
barking dog." That sort of thing.

- And what does this one say?
- It says, "Alcohol in this town."

I don't think our man's trying to tell
his fellow drinkers where to tie one on.

But if you turn it this way,
it means something else.

"Hold your tongue."

Good Lord. What is it?

Well, in England the...
the killer left another signature.

He, erm, he cut out Claire's tongue.

Oh.

But it was never reported
in the newspapers.

His letters also referred to
silent gifts to God.

I think he's killing people
to keep them quiet.

If the tongues were also cut here,
that means it can't be a copycat

if the fact wasn't reported in the UK.

I can tell you now he
didn't cut them here.

Why do you say that?

Look around. There's not enough blood.

Because he moved the body.
How far is another question.

Firstly, let's find out
about the tongues.

Does your husband have any
connection to the police?

- No.
- But we do.

- What do you want?
- Olivia.

Look at you. It's been too long.
You're well?

I have a beautiful family
and I love my job.

I'd hazard that's not what
you're here to ask about.

You think we're here to squeeze you?

We are here to squeeze you.

People are being killed
in the Fillmore. Women.

This is the homicide division, Iris.
I'm well aware.

But I'm assistant secretary,
not Chief of Police.

We stopped the war, we
can stop the killer.

If we can find him.

That's why there's a
detail we need to know.

Something that hasn't been reported.

Did the killer...? Well...

Did he cut out their tongues or not?

- That's a question for the police.
- One they will never answer.

Maybe there's good reason for that.

Olivia, I'm sorry for what happened.

Working with you at the Presidio
was an honour and a pleasure.

We should have done better.
Maybe now we can.

We need to know if the killer
is the same man

who did the same terrible thing
back in England.

And you can help us with that.

All three, postmortem.

Thank you.

You know the rules. No yapping
when you're on the clock.

Of course, Detective Brice. They were
just old friends stopping to say hello.

- Well, they didn't look so friendly.
- Oh, they won't be back again.

Olivia, I see potential in you.

A chance to be a real credit to your...

...you know?

Yes, I do.

If we know it's the same killer, we
can start narrowing down the field.

All right. So here's every
American soldier

serving in England in 1942

who were based at RAF Daws Hill, the
closest American base to Bletchley.

Who were Catholic, holy palms.

Who are registered with
the San Francisco veterans' office.

And who may be here as a transient
who knows Hobo Code.

I think there's one more criterion.

Yes. He's a man who
spent time living elsewhere.

- Mm. Hailey.
- What?

Leavenworth prison.

That had to be rough, you know.
Getting locked up like that.

Not if you're looking
for something to punch.

I picked so many fights inside,
two years became ten.

Got out three months ago.
Came home on the rails.

Well, home doesn't want me much.

Used to be we all had the same enemy.

Yeah, it's hard to turn it off. I know.

Well, looky there.

A one-man protest march.

Kids like that got no idea
what we sacrificed.

Fighting for the freedom
he's got now to go be a jackass.

You got that right.

He should just shut up already.

- Same time tomorrow.
- You know where to find me.

Leaflet, sir? Save the Fillmore.

- Hey, Dad.
- Hey, son. Right on time.

A list of all soldiers
who served in England?

Not possible.

We don't need everyone.
Just men at this one base here.

See? Around these dates.

My husband is Sgt Marcus Bearden...

Then why isn't he the one here
talking to me?

Sir, it's a simple request.

You've new systems of
cross-referencing fields.

It shouldn't be onerous...

What do you know about our fields?

Well, I worked here during the war.

Oh, did you?

Oh, this is terrible.

Ma'am, you OK?

- Of course not. A child is dying.
- Her nephew.

We voyaged here from England

in the hope of acquiring some
information about an American soldier

who was stationed in Daws Hill
in the spring of 1942.

- He'd be registered here now.
- The nephew's father.

- Gosh.
- Poor dying boy wants to meet

his dear old dad just once.

And can you imagine going to your grave

without ever once setting eyes
on your son?

Oh, Jean, show him a photograph.

No need. I will see what I can find.

Jean, you got some moxie there.

Well, there's plenty of girls
in the typing pool.

Now, one of them is a...

What do you call the girls
with the batons?

- Majorette.
- There you are.

Peter has no time for those
stick-twirling typists.

Actually, Mother, all I have is time.

I wouldn't be taking anyone out these
days. It's dangerous on the streets.

Yeah, the Holy Palms killer
is clearing out the Fillmore.

The fellow's got impeccable timing.

You know, I was thinking,

if you approach the big retailers
and convince one quality merchant,

it would attract
other high-end, low-risk leases.

I'll suggest that tonight.

Did I mention I have a
meeting back at City Hall?

Must have slipped your mind.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

Just leave it, George. She'll get it.

Hello? Peter.

It's for you.

Heavenly Father, thank you for
the bounty you have laid before us.

We ask that you would
guide us in our choices

and show us the passage
you would have us walk.

Keep us out of harm's way

and far from those who would
fall prey to the devil's traps.

Grant us the wisdom
to be a light unto others

and the grace to learn from our mistakes.

- In Jesus' name we pray.
- Amen.

- Slim pickings tonight.
- I was busy with errands.

It's OK, Mommy. I like leftovers.

Will you get the dry-cleaning?

- Tomorrow.
- Mm-hm.

♪ Over there, over there ♪

♪ Send the word Send the word over there ♪

♪ That the Yanks are coming ♪

♪ The Yanks are coming ♪

♪ The drums rum-tumming everywhere ♪

♪ So prepare, say a prayer ♪

♪ Send the word Send the word to beware ♪

♪ We'll be over, we're coming over ♪

♪ And we won't come back
Till it's over over there! ♪

Mm. Ah, the Fighting Fifths. What a time.

Ah, must have been, for you.
You stayed in.

Look at these punks.
Fighting for a few old buildings.

You and me were sanctioned to kill.
For them.

Some thanks we get.

Olivia.

For the police to ever hire me,

I had to be twice as smart,
twice as swift and twice as sweet.

Because to them, you were
twice as suspicious.

Which is why you'll stay away from me.

This isn't the Presidio. You can't
just expect me to fall in line.

But what if we could solve this?

The Fillmore was once your home, too.

Before the war came
and they took it away.

Swooped in and bought our homes
for pennies on the dollar.

Next door belonged to
my father's best friend. A tailor.

Across the street, Mr Yoshida sold books.

Half these places were
the homes of people I knew.

You'll leave here one day, too, Iris...

...and then you'll see
what it does to you.

Olivia...

- Iris, what are you doing?
- Just... the garbage.

Well, a husband worries.
Get back in here.

The second body was found here.
Third here.

- But where were they killed?
- Another letter.

"Silent angels watch over tonight.
3.75 to 5.45."

- Well, they can't be times.
- Why not?

- Have you ever heard of 3:75?
- Good point.

So, in each letter to the editor, he
writes two numbers. What are they?

11.17 to 5.83.

Oh. 9.68 to 5.22.

Each one, the second integer's
a five. No integer goes above 11.

But the fractionals go well above that.

11. That's an odd number.

- What is there 11 of?
- Players in a cricket team.

- Ladies dancing in the Christmas carol?
- That's pipers piping.

Seems I'm not interrupting.

If I say San Francisco and
the number 11, what do you think?

Well, that's the number
of city districts.

Ha. Bingo!

- My son's obsessed with civic politics.
- 11 districts.

I used to work in engineering a while.

City has a whole block system.
Each block, they gave it a number.

- That could be the fractional.
- So, this district...

The numbers in the letters...

- What letters?
- ..they could be predictive.

- Oh, you think so?
- I'm not sure.

It's a theory. It's worth working out.

Blocks are numbered like knitting.

So you finish a row and
you turn the other way.

Boustrophedon.
As the ox turns in ploughing.

- If you say so.
- Two numbers.

The first could be where
the murder happens

and the second could be
the body's eventual destination.

If we start with what we know,

the locations where the
bodies are dropped...

...we can fill in the block numbers

and work out the location
of tonight's killing.

- That could take all night.
- Well, good job there's four of us.

Fillmore Street and Turk Street.

- Hill Street and over...
- Got it.

Save the Fillmore! Save the Fillmore!

- Look what we're doing, man.
- It's a mistake.

It should be a peaceful march. Instead
we're playing into their hand.

When they get nasty...

We'll call it a night.
I'll see you later.

- Whoo!
- Save the Fillmore!

Save the Fillmore!

- Do you see what I see?
- The numbers. The placement.

- It works.
- And from this...

...tonight's murder takes place...

- ...here.
- Polk and McAllister, near City Hall.

- There's a big protest there tonight.
- Oh.

- My son, he's part of it.
- Oh, the person doesn't kill men.

It's not a pattern we can rely on.

I'll bring around the
car, you call the cops.

No time. Let's go.

Save the Fillmore!

- We're too late.
- Where did he move the body?

Well, if our system is correct,
north-east Fulton and Webster.

- That's a big block.
- Well, let's...

Iris. Iris!

Dennis. Dennis!

Dennis.

Dennis! Dennis!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com