All language subtitles for Episode 8 - The Blood Of Juana The Mad

Next generation of
bright, shiny new things.

When are you gonna make your
contribution to the gene pool, Mac?

This is my contribution, Professor.

May I remind you gentlemen, and ladies,

the Medical Prize examination is
this afternoon at 2:00pm sharp.

Very sharp.

We have, alas, a depressingly young subject

for our final revision lecture on
human musculature and articulation.

Female, 32 years of age,

cause of death... postnatal haemorrhage.

That's Professor Katz.

Wait for us!

What's wrong?

Beatrice! Where are you going, Beatrice?

Wait for us! Batty Boo!

Look at her go!

Poor Prof! Hey?

Beatrice... Oh, look out. It's on!

It's on. Look out.

Back off! You two...!

Settle down.

You OK?

Any idea what happened?

There was a mix-up.

My senior students asked for a revision

so I went down to the furnace
this morning before it cranked up

to retrieve what I thought
was a 32-year-old woman.

It turned out to be Professor Katz instead.

He was well respected
amongst the fraternity,

if a little eccentric.

He knew his medicine inside out.

Hello, Jack.

I didn't realise you were
on this case, Miss Fisher.

Likewise. I could have left it to you

No, you couldn't.

I called you both in because
I want you to work together.

I need this case solved.

Phryne Fisher, Professor Bradbury,

Dean of Medicine and
Head of Jude's College.

Delighted to meet any man who
can inspire Elizabeth MacMillan.

Pity the occasion is so tragic.

You said Professor Katz was left in
the holding annexe of the furnace.

Who would have had access?

Oh, well, apart from the staff,

we kept a key in the cabinet over there.

It's missing.

I'd appreciate, Professor Bradbury,

if you could assemble your senior students

for some preliminary questioning.

Yes, of course.

Just a minute. What's going on?

Oh, well, I need to know his
routine, who was the last...

With you and Jack Robinson.

That might take a while. Short version.

He had a nasty scare, thought I'd
killed myself in a car accident

and now he thinks I'm too much trouble.

You are. So he's running scared.

Coward.

Macabre turn of events, Inspector.

But the only one that isn't here
is the one you should be talking to.

And who's that?

Beatrice Mason. Mad as a March hare.

I'm happy to start with you, Mr Oliver.

Me?

I may have glued a wig to Paracelsus's bust

but even I wouldn't
pull something like this.

And I certainly wouldn't have
killed the old coot first.

So you're Professor
Bradbury's research assistant.

Yeah. His field of
specialisation is anthropometry...

study of human proportions.

Measuring people?

More or less.

Whenever you're ready, Mr Street.

(Where could I find
Professor Katz's office?)

Far end of the east wing. Thank you.

Inspector... I thought you
had students to interrogate.

I have men to help with that.

Then I fear we're headed
for the same destination.

I'll keep my distance.

Why don't you walk two steps behind?

I need the book. I'm
Katz's research assistant.

I have all my notes... Miss...

..but I still need the book,
can you please let me in there?

Miss, this office is now part
of a police investigation.

I'm afraid not. Detective
Inspector Robinson.

We're here on police business.

Can you let me get into there
so I can get the book, please?

I can't work without it. Excuse me, Miss...

Oh! Don't touch me!

Phryne Fisher.

Lady Detective.

Why do we need the police as well?

That's a very good question, Miss...

Mason. Beatrice.

If you could just step
aside, please, Miss Mason.

Uh-uh. Professor Katz didn't
allow anyone in his office

when he wasn't present.

Given that Katz is no longer with
us, perhaps his rules no longer apply.

The Inspector is here to
look after his interests.

If you could just stay
with Constable Collins,

please, Miss Mason.

Thank you.

Looks like we just missed somebody.

That picture's crooked.

Miss... Miss!

Miss! Miss! Miss!

That's where Katz locked up his book.

It must have been extremely valuable.

The Book of Hours of Juana the Mad.

It's a 16th-century illustrated manuscript.

It was Katz's most prized possession,

but he... he locked it
up because we disagreed.

About what?

He said he found it in
a monastery in Catalonia.

But I found modern restorations,
altered text and new ink.

I think that's why he was mad at me.

It's a rotation combination and
Katz liked to change it every day.

Geoffrey Spall, College Treasurer.

And the safe, Mr Spall?

I warned Katz it was
merely an analog problem,

easily surmounted by the
most amateur mathematician.

Perhaps... I can help.

I'm not a mathematician, Mr Spall,

but I have mastered the art of listening.

Very closely.

Two tumblers... shifting.

And... falling.

And...

..open sesame.

The Book of Hours.

Where's the rest?

It's empty.

Miss...

Beatrice.

Are you alright?

There's too much...

Too many people.

People are confusing.

Yes, they are.

What's that?

More blood.

The splashes are getting larger.

Whoever was leaving them

was going towards the office
rather than away from it.

Inspector!

They keep going.

Still not a great deal of blood,
given the method of murder.

Now... these would be extremely sharp

Collins.

There are more, Miss Fisher.

Sir? I want this area roped off.

Ooh. We need the blood for testing.

Then come and sort out that young girl.

Yes, sir.

Ah! If you'd just wait
there, please, Mr Spall.

This must be where it happened.

Somehow the body went from
here to the anatomy furnace.

To be burned at nine
o'clock in the morning?

If not for Dr MacMillan needing
a cadaver at short notice,

Katz would have disappeared
off the face of the earth.

After he was exsanguinated,
into the garden.

That's my clinical observation. Right here.

Uh, Miss Mason... if you'd
just like to step away...

Perhaps we could find somewhere
for you to clean your shoes.

Oh...

Jack?

Good catch.

Just in here will be fine.

The Vice Dean's away on a sabbatical.

Is there anyone we can telephone?
Surely she'd be happier at home.

No, no, no, it's fine. It's
happened before. She'll recover.

Hugh, you might like to
do something with these.

Sir, Professor Bradbury's asked
to see you in the dining room.

And file this as evidence.

Yes, sir.

Might just go hunt down a pot of tea.

Yep. You might like to, um...
follow that young man first, Collins.

Charlie Street?

Yes. See what he just
slipped into his pocket.

How did I get here?

You fainted.

Oh, my things.

Who... who... who touched my blanket?

A... and there was blood...
there was blood on my skin.

It's alright, it's fine, it's
gone now. Everything's fine.

Ohh!

Don't be afraid, it's dead.

They're always dead. I'm not afraid.

I just feel bad for the rats.

How often does this happen, Beatrice?

Whenever Oliver feels like
it. There's no pattern.

Can you pass me a bin, please?

Where do you live, Beatrice?

I leased a flat in Carlton
but I had to vacate.

Why?

Well...

They said I started a fire in the
kitchen because I left the oven on,

but I didn't.

And women aren't allowed to
reside at the college, are they?

No. But sometimes I lie
down here and close my eyes.

It's better this way.

It allows me more time
for my research and...

..and it's further away from the street,

so no-one can watch me.

Who would be watching you?

I've never seen them.

Good God. These katana were a gift
to the college from the Japanese.

The most brilliant mathematicians.

Turned out to be a much more
practical gift than intended.

Spall said the safe was completely empty.

That's right.

Any idea what Professor Katz kept in there?

Well, I know he had the exhibit
for the half-yearly exam.

He put the skull in there for safekeeping.

He locked up a skull? Mm.

You don't seem to be in
short supply, Professor.

Well, I realise they may all look
the same to your womanly gaze,

Miss Fisher, but I assure you
they're completely different.

The students have to
make clinical judgements

based on the pathology
of a particular skull.

I can give you the catalogue number.

Alas, poor Yorick.

Luckily Hamlet wasn't a woman, or
I might not have recognised him.

It's engraved...

..on the base of the skull
near the lower left jaw.

So Katz was worried about
your students cheating

so he locked up the skull?

I agree it's ridiculous,

but this exam determined the
winner of the Medical Prize.

It's more critical than most.

Some of our students' whole lives

depend upon their academic performance.

Like who?

Mr Street, for one.

Yes, I suppose Mr Street will
struggle more than some students.

None of his family are educated.
Dock workers, I believe.

And the college supports
the cost of his degree.

Charlie Street?

Your research assistant, I believe.

Surprisingly bright.
Though somewhat erratic.

Especially of late.

Stop. Ah, stop, Mr Street.

Pick it up.

Inspector Robinson will be very interested

to hear your story, Mr
Street, down at the station.

I don't mind you walking in
front occasionally, Inspector,

though behind would be more gallant.

What if I were attacked

by masked, sword-wielding
Japanese mathematicians?

You wouldn't know what
happened to my constable,

by any chance, Miss Fisher?

Didn't he follow you, Inspector?

I know Dr MacMillan is an old friend,

but it would be easier if
you left me to investigate.

Without me?

What about the safe? You couldn't
have opened that without me.

Not as easily.

Or the blood trail. Not as quickly.

What about Hugh? I helped
him to... Helped what?

Do you really want me to go?

I don't want you to go.

I need you to go.

Please go home.

Very well.

Sayonara.

Beatrice. How are you feeling?

Much better now.

Good, because I have to leave

and I was hoping to
invite you home with me.

Do you have any rats?

Not dead ones. Could I
bring all my own things?

My research papers, my
notes and my own food?

Of course.

And the page from the book?

I'm... sure we can work something out

I'll consider it.

Any sign of our house guest, Dot?

No, miss.

I thought that might have been her
but it was just someone passing.

I hope she's not lost.

I gave her very precise directions.

Beatrice doesn't strike
me as someone who forgets.

Beatrice. I came in the rear door.

I was beginning to think we
should send out a search party.

I was concerned I was being followed.

And were you?

Not that I'm aware of.

But... I have to be careful.

I don't know you.

This is my companion,
Miss Dorothy Williams.

Dot, meet Miss Beatrice Mason.

Hello.

Would you... like some tea?

I've got some fresh-baked scones as well.

No.

Thank you.

I only eat jam sandwiches.

So why would anyone be
following you, Beatrice?

Well, it's... it's about the Book of Hours.

Whoever it is, they want it.

But I don't understand.
The book is missing.

Perhaps they think I took it.

I had the book before
Professor Katz locked it up.

That's when they ransacked my flat.

Did you see them? No.

But I knew they'd been
there. Things had been moved.

Then they started leaving notes.

Did you keep any of them?

No. They were burnt when
the kitchen caught fire.

Luckily my books were alright.

You can't touch them without gloves!

Please.

But you look like a, uh... a
careful person, Miss Williams.

Thank you. She is. She's very careful.

Katz knew to wear gloves.

He liked old books, like me.

He shared my interest
in diseases of the mind.

He didn't think Juana was mad.

Katz agreed with me. Katz...

I wish he wasn't gone.

How did you come by the
key to the furnace room?

You must understand how
this compromises you.

Professor Katz's body was left
to be incinerated late last night.

I didn't have anything to do
with what happened to Katz,

so you have no proof.

But we have proof you were attempting

to dispose of evidence, Mr Street.

Constable Collins, charge Mr Charlie Street

with being an accessory to a murder.

Take him down to the cells. Yes, sir.

And we'll have to inform
Professor Bradbury,

so I hope it won't affect
your future at Jude's College.

Alright, I found it.

Well, you need to tell us where.

Night in the cells might loosen his tongue.

The key was with Beatrice's things.

But I'm sure she had no idea it was there.

So who put it there?

Well, I didn't see him do it,

but he's been tormenting Beatrice

ever since she arrived at the college.

Amos Oliver.

If you're so sure, why didn't
you mention this earlier?

Oliver's the golden boy of this department.

His father won the Medical
Prize, his father before him,

and nobody wants to see
him get into trouble.

Katz was trying to have
him expelled for cheating.

And look what happened to him.

Oh. You've been busy.

Mm.

Uh, these notes are the words

that accompany the
illuminations in the book,

but I haven't finished.

If you know your Bible, you'll
be familiar with the iconography.

St John, the Tower of Babel,
Moses and the burning bush.

I haven't done the rest
of the Passion cycle yet.

Of course. I know all those stories.

But my Latin isn't very good.

That's not relevant, Dorothy.

You see how some letters are in red

but on every third page,
the letters have been changed

from the original black to red.

The new ink is inorganic,
less than 100 years old.

What do you think it all means, Beatrice?

I don't know. But perhaps
they'll leave me alone now.

If they're the ones that robbed the safe.

Unless they want this missing page.

Who else knows you made all these notes?

I showed Katz, before
he confiscated the book.

The book is beautiful. Beyond words.

The colours are as... as bright as jewels.

Shouldn't be out there in the world.

I'll make sure we find that book, Beatrice.

Mr Butler?

Mr Butler!

Mr Butler!

He's still alive. I should hope so.

So sorry, miss.

I'll be there... shortly.

I concur with my budding colleague here.

No nausea, no stomach cramps,
no signs of any rashes.

I'd say nothing toxic.

Thank goodness. Just a
heavy dose of sleeping pills.

Back to bed now, Mr B.

Yes, miss. At once.

Oh, leave him, Dot,
he's not going anywhere.

I'll get back to my work.

We suspect this is the culprit.

Beatrice's jam?

A gift, apparently.

Left anonymously in her
pigeonhole yesterday.

From someone who knows her
well. Beatrice likes labels.

Beatrice may seem impervious

to the harassment she
suffers at the college,

but I'm sure it takes its toll.

Is that all it is, do
you think? Harassment?

Well, I know that half of the faculty

would rather see her student placement

go to a deserving, well-bred young man

from the right side of the tracks.

She'll make a damn good research doctor.

She's dispassionate, clinical.

Beatrice is very particular
about certain things.

The order in which she
carries out a dissection,

the way she organises
her notes, being touched.

But she doesn't imagine
things. She's not crazy.

She's volatile.

Doesn't strike me as being violent.

No. She was furious with Katz, though,

when he locked away that book.

Are you suggesting...?

No, I'm not suggesting she'd hurt him.

But if she did, she certainly
wouldn't lie about it.

We know Professor Katz was trying to
have you expelled from the college,

and I imagine your family have great
expectations of your medical career.

You think I'd murder Katz
for that? I'm not sure.

Perhaps it was merely to
cheat on your examination

by stealing that skull.

Have you seen my results?

Ask Professor Bradbury what kind
of a doctor he thinks I'll make.

It's in my blood.

But the Medical Prize examination

wasn't being held by
Professor Bradbury this year.

Professor Katz was conducting it.

Have I mentioned my uncle
is a Queen's counsel?

Good to cover all the professions.

What were you doing last night?

I was in my room all
night, and I have a witness,

though I'm not sure how reliable she is.

I thought that sort of thing
was frowned upon by the college.

It wasn't my idea, Inspector.

Miss Beatrice Mason
came to harass me again.

The girl is clearly a nymphomaniac.

Claimed I'd invited
her. Patently ridiculous.

Though she was amorous,

and a man can only take so much
of a woman throwing herself at him.

Afterwards, she slept on my divan.

Ask her yourself. Thank you, Mr Oliver.

We'll do that.

That's terrible, Dottie.

Yes, we'll look into it for
you. Thank you. Goodbye for now.

Not enough work to keep you busy, Collins?

Found Miss Mason's whereabouts yet?

We need to retrieve our stolen evidence.

I believe she's no longer
at the college, sir.

Do you have her address?

Yes, but you're not going to like it.

You mean last night? Yes.

And I'd rather conduct this
questioning down at the station,

if you would like to
accompany me, Miss Mason.

No. I like it here. Thank you.

The answer to your question is yes,

I spent the night in Mr Oliver's room.

What time did you arrive? At 6:05.

And you can confirm you were
both there the entire night?

I was.

I wanted to return to my research,
but my evening didn't go to plan.

Oliver claims you seduced him.

That's strange. I don't recall that.

Beatrice, what exactly do you recall?

I remember arriving, and
Oliver seemed happy to see me.

He was smiling a lot.

I... I asked him if I
could lie down for a bit.

I was so tired, I could hardly speak.

Why did you go to Oliver's room, Beatrice?

Mr Spall said Oliver had invited me.

It's polite to accept an invitation.

I've had to learn to be polite.

He said that Oliver wanted to apologise.

But then he killed another rat.

I don't understand that.

Can I go now?

Yes, after you've returned that page
of the Book of Hours, Miss Mason.

That won't be possible, Inspector.
It's part of my research.

Beatrice wouldn't have seduced Oliver.

Miss Mason doesn't like to be touched,

let alone ravished by a man like Oliver.

Mr Oliver is doing what he
does best... making trouble.

But if Beatrice were drugged, perhaps
his motives were more sinister.

Like taking advantage of her?

Or providing Oliver with an alibi
for the night of Katz's death.

I know that you are more than capable

of handling this murder
investigation without me, Inspector.

But you might like to
test this blackberry jam.

Thank you.

Help!

Oh, Miss!

Oh, no! Oh, no, they've taken all my notes!

Who? Whoever owns this.

Who would take them?

This reeks of tobacco.

Sweetly spiced with vanilla.

Pipe tobacco.

Who do you know that
smokes a pipe, Beatrice?

Were you aware of any relationship

between Mr Oliver and
Beatrice Mason, Mr Spall?

I'm sure Oliver has no
shortage of female admirers.

But if you're telling me that she
spent the night in Oliver's room,

that is a very troubling confession.

Even more troubling if she was drugged.

Sorry, Inspector, your
constable gave you away.

We're in the middle of
an interview, Miss Fisher.

As I was saying, Miss Mason is well aware

that spending a night in the male dorms

is against all college regulations,

apart from matters of moral decency.

Don't mind me. But I do.

Oh, that's right.

But you might want to know
we had an intruder last night

who tried to strangle
Beatrice, stole her notes

and left me with a very bruised
ribcage and a souvenir kerchief.

It smells of tobacco, a very
distinctive pipe tobacco.

I believe Mr Spall smokes a pipe.

I believe I'm not the only
man to take up the habit.

Do you have your pipe handy?

May I?

Mmm. Vanilla.

So, where were you last night, Mr Spall?

I was here until late,
going through the accounts.

Who do you have...

How serious was the friction
between yourself and Beatrice Mason?

There were times when I needed
to see Katz on serious matters,

and that young woman barred my way.

She's an odd one, full of fanciful
ideas. Anyone can see that.

Why did you get Katz to
confiscate the book...

What kind of serious matters?

College enrolments are down,

and Katz' insistence on
educating the working classes

wasn't doing our finances any good at all.

Whereas the missing and
extremely valuable Book of Hours

would be a great help.

You're right, Miss Fisher.

That manuscript was Katz' pride and joy

and contributed great
prestige to the college.

So I'd concentrate on tracking
down poor Katz' murderer

and finding the manuscript,

rather than interrogating someone

who has the university's
best interests at heart.

Now, if you're both done with your
questions, I'd like to be dismissed.

Of course. Thank you, Mr Spall.

Excuse me... Pardon me.

Professor Bradbury wants to
see you in the anatomy labs.

Thank you, Collins. Jack, you can't let...

And I would like Spall's
office searched now.

What was that, Miss Fisher?
Nothing for the moment, Inspector.

Hello, Hugh. They wouldn't be
Mr Spall's things, would they?

I'm just taking them to the Inspector.

Oh, I am so sorry, Hugh. Miss!

Here, let me help you with that.

Oh, all my fault, Inspector.
I must watch where I'm going.

We can manage the rest.

I'm sure you can, but
this looks interesting.

It describes each of the college staff...

Professor Bradbury, Professor
Katz, even Mac gets a mention.

Looks like some kind of
confidential dossiers.

Intelligence gathering, perhaps?

I'll examine it more closely
before coming to any conclusions,

thank you, Miss Fisher.

Assuming Spall is lying
and he did drug Beatrice

and he was after the Book of Hours,
perhaps it wasn't about money at all?

Perhaps the book has some
other kind of significance.

Geoffrey Spall... Pure
Mathematics at Oxford,

wireless operator with
the British Admiralty,

Naval Cryptographer.

What does that all mean, sir?

Well, it certainly doesn't
make him more likeable, Collins,

but it looks to me like Mr
Spall was a code breaker.

So, military intelligence? Possibly.

With these notes on his
colleagues, their politics,

marital status, comings and goings,

he's gathering information for someone.

And the results on that
sedative in the jam,

it's a drug called scopolamine.

It's not very widely known, but it's
been used to extract information.

Like a truth serum?

So you're saying he's a
spy, with the Secret Service?

Don't get too excited, Collins.

Since the war ended,

most intelligence work is sitting
behind a desk, opening foreign mail.

Beatrice, you said there was
some kind of pattern, in the book?

Yes, the alterations.
What kind of alterations?

They were every third page.

That's where the new ink
was, in the calligraphy.

Well, how could you
tell? Spectral analysis.

I used a Bunsen burner.

But if you looked closely, you could tell.

Do you think there could be some
kind of meaning in the changes?

Some message, perhaps?

Katz bought the book after the war.

Books were often used
to secrete papers, money.

Well, I copied them down.

But your notes were
stolen. Oh, before that.

I wrote out just the letters that
were odd and made a list of them.

Where is it? In my textbook.

Fascinating development,
Inspector. Professor Spall is a spy.

It's only a theory at this stage.

So, would you like something
to add to it, or not?

At what price, Miss Fisher?

The usual, Inspector.

You're chasing rainbows.
That means nothing to me.

You can't deny your association
with the British military.

Why would I? I was proud
to serve my country.

How do you explain the dossier
you kept on your colleagues?

My confidential files are exactly that.

I can write whatever I like in them.

Katz changed the
combination on his safe daily

because he was afraid you'd break into it.

I could have done that easily.

But you didn't need to,

until Beatrice started finding
anomalies in the Book of Hours.

This is nonsense.

And then when Katz locked it up,
she decided to guard his office,

and you had to drug her
to get her out of the way.

This is all unsubstantiated.

Interrogate the Mason woman.

She's the one who wanted the book so badly.

Who knows what she'd have done to get it?

Sir, do you mind... Not now, Collins.

Are you accusing her of
Professor Katz's murder?

She may have had help.

That Charlie Street fellow
and her were thick as thieves.

But you've been through
my things, Inspector.

You know that the Dean
was seriously concerned

that she's mentally defective.

It's not just my opinion.

Sir...

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late
for a meeting of the College Board.

Excuse me, sir, would you mind if...

The more I know of that
man, the less I like him.

Ooh. Ooh...

Oh. Oh!

Ah! Ooh!

Oh.

I suspect they've become bored with it.

The Medical Prize exam has been foiled

and they've clearly run out of
ways to make a mockery of that.

Here's the category
number Bradbury gave to me.

Thank you.

Are you sure? (Yes.)

I mean, the numbers match the skull,
but I don't recognise this system.

I'll take this back to
the lab for a closer look

and make sure it's the skull we're after.

There may have been a mix-up.

I don't understand it, sir.

I thought the students were here

to learn how to cure
diseases and help people.

Hello, Mr Street. How are
your studies progressing?

Miss Fisher. Thank you for taking Bea in.

I couldn't budge her myself.

It was the promise of finding
her book that was the lure.

I'm late for a lecture. I must dash.

You're the one? Hand
it over, now. All of it.

I haven't got anything. Give me the book!

It's not yours. Now, I said.

Over here, Spall!

Glad your timing's not off, Inspector

Thank you, Collins. Sir.

What's so important about that book,
Mr Spall, that you'd shoot a man?

You're out of your depth.
Katz' killer is still out there.

I didn't put it there.

How did you know where
it was hidden? I didn't.

You were just in the right
place at the right time?

I got a note in my mail this morning.

Who was it from? I don't know.

It's anonymous, but I wanted
to keep it for Beatrice.

'Look where the old coot died.'

'Old coot'?

I certainly wouldn't have
killed the old coot first.

Oliver used those exact words
to describe Professor Katz.

I need to telephone my
uncle. He's on his way.

Why did you steal the book?

It can't have been just
to torment Beatrice,

if it meant killing a man to get it.

I didn't kill Katz. I
didn't care about the book.

I only used it to get back at Charlie.

If you didn't kill Katz, how
did you end up with the book?

I was after the skull.

So how did you go about
it? Did you confront him?

No, you've got it all wrong.

When Beatrice turned up that night,
expecting some apology from me,

I thought it was Katz' doing.

So I went to have it out with
him after Beatrice fell asleep.

And then I saw the skull, and
I knew I'd be tested on it.

Everything was just sitting on his desk.

I knew how valuable that book
was, and how much it meant to Katz.

just grabbed everything.

And Beatrice became your alibi,

despite the fact that it
could lead to her expulsion.

And you tried to pin the
blame on Charlie Street.

He shouldn't be in a place like
this. Neither should Beatrice.

This college has a history, a reputation.

They just don't belong.

Tell me something, Mr Oliver.

If you're so brilliant,
how did you get caught?

No matter how much money
or education is wasted

on your pea-brained intellect, Mr Oliver,

your failure to appreciate the brilliance

of a mind like Beatrice Mason's

will always render you a complete imbecile.

If these were all the
letters from the book and...

Assuming it's in English and
we're dealing with the Allies?

And mostly phonetic and
omitting most of the vowels.

What about this part here? 'Double agents'.

And the first letters can be names.

'Williams'. 'And Cabot'? French.

No, that's Corbett.

Williams and Corbett, airmen.

Reportedly went down in the
Battle of Arras, April 1917.

And both received
posthumous bravery awards.

But this code implies an
altogether different fate.

P-L-P. 'Pulp'?

Code for assassination.

How did we do, Mr Spall?

The war was a long time ago, Inspector.

So you don't think
anyone will be interested

that two supposed heroes

were murdered by their
own side for treachery?

The Bureau will deny all
knowledge. Of the Book, of me.

So you murdered Katz
for an invisible master?

I would have, once. But you're wrong.

It wasn't until I heard Katz was dead

that I made my attempt on the manuscript.

The spilled water.

Think he's telling the truth, sir?

Well, if he is, and Oliver's
theft was merely opportunist,

who does that leave, Collins?

Good afternoon, Sir Basil.

Yes, that's right, sir.
Ah, Mr Geoffrey Spall.

Ah, well, we're questioning him now, sir.

Well, no, sir...

Well, yes, sir, I understand that, but...

Looks like we'll be releasing
Mr Spall immediately.

Really, sir?

So maybe he's doing
just a little bit more...

Get on with it, Collins. Yes, sir.

Oh, and Doctor MacMillan
telephoned earlier.

She needs to see you and
Miss Fisher at the college.

This skull has certainly been around.

The numbering here is American.

That's because it's
from Hartley University.

How did it end up being the subject
of your medical exam, Street?

It wasn't meant for an exam.

Professor Katz was just keeping it safe.

From what? Oh, from whom is the question.

Mac. Miss Fisher. What a lovely surprise.

I hope you don't mind.

I need an expert opinion
on some human remains.

Mac and I just can't seem to agree.

Well, you'd be hard-pressed

to find a finer mind than
Elizabeth MacMillan's.

Unless it were a man's.

That skull is an aberration.

It undermines a lifetime of research

I am finally going to present
to the national symposium.

I told Charlie Street to incinerate it.

But he gave it to Professor Katz instead.

Katz?

What are you doing with this?

Katz? Katz!

Katz!

Katz!

You certainly lost control of
your well-bred mind, didn't you?

He asked for it, that
vindictive little man.

So you killed him.

But when you came back,
your skull had gone.

Along with the Book of Hours.

So you planted the key in
Beatrice Mason's things,

so you could blame your
murder on a madwoman.

A small sacrifice to make.

Modern medicine should promote only
the best traits of the human race.

What would modern medicine
do to Beatrice Mason?

Prevent her from breeding, of course.

Like this woman? An American Negress?

The kind of woman you believe has
an underdeveloped and inferior brain?

Except this skull belongs
to the first Negro woman

to graduate with Honours
from Hartley University.

The skull is a hoax.
It's a lie, I tell you!

You're under arrest, Professor.

What are you doing, Miss
Fisher? What we do best, Jack.

And I'm afraid I'm going
to have to touch you.

Get out of the way!

Move!

Hold it right there!

'Highly opinionated,

revolutionary tendencies
and suspect associates'.

I think Spall summed you up nicely.

I never liked that man. But I
did admire Professor Bradbury.

If Bradbury's research was all
about race and gender superiority,

why did he encourage a woman?

Procreation.

Bradbury's running joke was asking me

when I was going to settle
down and raise a family.

Intelligent women do have
their uses, Inspector.

Well, the medical faculty's been decimated.

They've expelled Oliver and his
father's money, along with him.

What about Beatrice Mason?

Inaugural recipient of the
Fisher Research Scholarship.

So between Beatrice and Charlie Street,

our reputation should be salvaged.

Otherwise I will have
to go out and procreate

with the nearest brilliant white male.

Don't worry, Inspector.
That won't happen in a hurry.

Although you would be my first choice.

So what kind of partners
are we from hereon in, Jack?

What's our safe distance?

Two steps behind, two steps
in front? Perhaps a dosido?

I think we're more of a waltz, Miss Fisher.

Not a tango? A good
waltz is slow, and close.

I'll try to stay in step, all the same.

♪ I found out that I love you

♪ And I thought you loved me too

♪ You were only passing time with me

♪ Many happy hours we spent

♪ I thought you were heaven sent

♪ You were only passing time with me

♪ I remember all the things you told me

♪ And the way you used to

♪ Kiss and hold me

♪ When you said you'd always care

♪ I thought you were playing fair

♪ You were only passing time with me.