Original subtitles

Thank you Susan, I'll take it out to her

Coming here to Rokewood.

It's a simple job today. We're looking to dig up this little beggar.

Rhododendron ponticum. Highly invasive.

We need to eradicate it at the root.

So we may have a lot of hard digging to do, I'm afraid.

But it'll be worth it in the end.

Thanks everyone.

Let's go.

Back in...

What's it over there?

Snail, adult, must have been in there a couple of weeks.

First inspection reveals loads of the front right side of the skull above the

temple.

Probable cause of death, all pretty straightforward really.

It's my day off.

I had plans, I was trying to have a life. Instead of which, as usual, I'm up

my knees in body parts.

Sorry.

I don't think there'll be any surprises in the post -mortem. But the grave's

pretty interesting.

The body was wrapped in a fine cloth.

Very fine.

And this was laid on the chest.

He was buried with some ceremony then.

I don't care.

There's a... It's on the back.

Nulli secundus.

Second to none.

Who found him?

Liv Nash.

She's a botanist, based at the Botanic Garden.

And what brought her all the way out here?

They were doing some conservation work.

Are you Liv Nash?

I'm Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

I'm sorry.

I keep thinking that I must have heard him.

While I was digging.

Isn't that mad?

I know I couldn't possibly have hurt him.

He's dead.

I'm sorry.

Look, it's a very traumatic thing to find a body.

I've got a number here if you need to talk to someone.

Thanks.

Thanks, Erbil.

I will call them.

You don't have a tissue, do you?

You're covered in snot.

Standard issue.

You must see stuff like this all the time.

Yeah.

So who do you call?

Good question.

The dead man found in Roke Woods was a Professor Murray Hawes, reported missing

a couple of weeks ago. One other thing, he was ritually buried, shrouded, across

the twigs on the body. We're just waiting for the post -mortem. Next of

notified? Yeah, his brother, Reverend Dr Connor Hawes. He's the chaplain at

Carlisle College.

Chaplain? Must know a thing or two about burials and rituals.

Just a thought.

Dr. Halls, I'm sorry to disturb you. D .I. Lewis, D .S. Hathaway.

I'm afraid we have something for you.

My father gave him this watch when my brother first came up to Oxford.

He was only 15, you see, and something of a prodigy.

Thank you.

Can you think of anybody who might have wanted to hurt your brother?

Was he in dispute with anyone?

No, not to my knowledge.

But I... I hadn't seen him for some time.

When did you last see your brother, Dr. Hawes?

Oh, I don't know.

Six months, a year.

We kept away from each other.

Your brother was found with a cross made of twigs laid on his chest.

What do you make of that as a man of the cloth?

That the killer had a conscience.

All right, thank you, Dr. Hawes.

If you do think of anything significant, would you ring us at the station? Oh,

yes, yes, of course.

As expected, no surprises.

Cause of death, slow to the head.

There's some bruising and abrasions to the face, which suggests a struggle.

Blood talk.

Nothing fatal, but not a happy picture.

Caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, amphetamines.

Cigarettes and coffee for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He didn't do things by

heart, did he?

I think the word like that.

Whatever gets you through.

Not a happy man.

It's got a spot in for a professor.

Formal hard times?

Mr Murray -Hawes?

I tell you that's not from Amazon.

Great big book.

Lot 92, The Hunting of the Snark and Agony in Eight Fits.

Original working manuscript annotated by Lewis Carroll.

Dated January 1876.

Annotated by Lewis Carroll.

I studied this. This is incredible.

You studied it?

I thought it was a poem.

It's a profoundly theological piece. It's theological and philosophical.

It's a ten -man crew in search of a snark.

And what's a snark?

That's precisely the question. Nobody knows.

Nobody knows what they're looking for. Sounds familiar.

Nobody knows what they're looking for, but the danger is in finding it. For

they do, they will softly and suddenly vanish away.

It's about the search for meaning, being a nothingness.

The unanswerable questions of existence.

It's the impossible quest.

He's got ten copies of it here.

Quite an obsession.

The Hunting of the Snark is a poem over which a sensitive soul might well go

mad.

Mad?

Oxford Botanic Gardens.

This place is a favourite haunt of Lewis Carroll's. He used to come here for

picnics.

Looking for the head of the gardens.

Professor Wright.

I think she's in the lodge.

Fine.

So how are you? How are you feeling?

Much better, thanks.

I called that number you gave me.

It really helped.

Glad.

So what are you doing here?

Well, by a curious coincidence, our man in the woods used to come here.

Murray?

He was nice.

Eccentric.

He forgot his shoes here once.

Came back from the next day.

So he was our man in the woods.

How did he end up all the way out there?

Is that right?

D .R. Lewis?

Yes. We're investigating the murder of this man, Murray Hawes.

I believe he has a connection with the garden.

Yes, he used to come here often. He was a Lewis Carroll fan, wasn't he? We get

it all the time. It's a place of pilgrimage for them.

Did you know him to talk to?

Inspector, I'm the director of the gardens. We have 7 ,000 plants here. We

one of the pre -eminent botanical research centres in the world.

I spend my life taking funding, worrying over visitor numbers.

I have neither the time nor the inclination to... What about

the police? Do you have the time or inclination to talk to us?

Yes.

Yes, of course, I'm sorry. It's a difficult time at the moment. I'm not

very well.

Why's that?

It's personal.

So did you know Murray well? You spoke to him?

Oh, yeah.

He liked to talk. He used to monologue a bit.

What about?

He was trying to solve something.

I don't know.

A calculation.

He was always taking measurements and pacing distances out.

There was someone he wanted to beat.

That's right.

He was always talking about winning, my triumph, my victory, stuff like that.

Did he mention anyone in particular?

Thing is, to be perfectly honest, I used to zone out a bit.

Yeah, it likes to groan, that's for sure.

What are you planting here? Plants and their uses?

It's Helena's thing.

Botanical history.

Textiles, dyes, medicines.

This is our Doctrine of Signatures flowerbed.

The Doctrine of Signatures was the... Great herbalist Connor of the 17th

century.

You know about the Doctrine of Signatures?

No one knows about the Doctrine of Signatures.

God has signed his intention in the look of things that man may know their

purpose.

Healing properties of plants, most of which have no healing properties

whatsoever.

Signatura rerum.

And he speaks Latin.

I should, um... Yes.

See you then.

See you.

You remembered to ask her some questions.

Yes, sir, I did. Thank you.

In fact, she was very helpful. Murray Hall, it seemed, had a rival.

Mr. Great.

Bloody mice.

Chewing my books to buggery.

I'll have to put something down.

Oxford, please.

Oh, yes.

The snark.

Well, it was a bidding war.

There were four parties.

An American university, Murray Hawes, a Swiss bank, and one was anonymous.

We need itemised billing for Gracie's books. What clashed her for Murray Horse

was that he paid in cash.

The fellow was looking to make a quick sale.

He paid cash?

How much?

200 ,000.

When was it? Do you know the date of the sale?

He paid on the 9th at close of business, 6 o 'clock.

And he was supposed to come again in the morning at 9 to take the Zetton of the

manuscript. We had to get it out of secure store overnight.

But he never showed up.

So, in the end, we sent it high security.

How did he seem that evening?

Oh, he was ebullient, overjoyed, triumphant.

He was going to solve the riddle, wasn't he? The riddle?

The riddle of the snark.

Carol was a great one for acrostics, poems that are also riddles.

There are those who believe that there's a code to be cracked in the snark.

Puzzle to be solved.

Look, is that all?

And, you know, I've been through this once already, and I do have to get on.

You've already been through it once? How do you mean?

One of your lot was in earlier, asking questions of a woman, officer.

A woman?

Innocent? Chief Superintendent Innocent? No, that wasn't her name.

Marland. D .I.

Marber. Yeah, that's it.

D .I. Marber.

D .I. Marber. Strange old bird. Who the hell is D .I. Marber?

How did Murray Hawes get his hands on 200 grand in cash?

Head start, gents. Nutcase alert. There's a lady with bags waiting for

she has information.

Interview one.

Good afternoon, Inspector.

Sergeant, I hope you will forgive the impertinence, but I have some thoughts

like to share with you.

The dead man, Professor Murray Hawes, was a Lewis Carroll enthusiast. In fact,

he had a particular interest in Carroll's epic nonsense poem, The Hunt

Snark. Yeah.

No, no, Inspector, if you don't mind, I'd like to carry on. I don't want to

the flow.

You may have heard of the riddle of the snark. You may even have discovered that

Mr Hawes was trying to solve the riddle of the snark. However, if you are

laboring under the assumption that Mr Hawes died because of the snark... I'm

afraid you're greatly mistaken.

Who are you? There is only one line of inquiry we should be following,

gentlemen. And that line relates to this man, Dr Alex Faulkner, of the David

Institute of Clinical Medicine, where Murray was a frequent participant in

clinical drug trials.

It's not illegal to run a clinical drugs trial, Mrs... Marber. Michelle Marber.

No, but you often did... Mrs Marber, have you been making your own inquiries

into this case?

You have to understand that impersonating a police officer is a

No, no, Inspector, forgive me, I should have explained. I'm conducting a wider

investigation into Dr. Faulkner.

So you're a private investigator?

Not as such.

All right, that's enough.

But I'm finished.

Yes, you have.

Murray's bank statements.

No much coming in.

Oh, there's a payment here from Davies Clinical Medicine for £2 ,000.

And one for £1 ,500.

And another the month before.

She was right about the drug trials. Alex Fulton was advertising for new

pigs.

Yes, Murray.

Murray was a regular of ours for the last three or four years.

What's the most anyone could get paid for taking part in one of these trials?

Oh, it's highly regulated.

There's a cap on what we can pay.

A couple of thousand.

When was his last trial? Can you remember?

It's a few months ago. The last one he came in for, we couldn't put him on.

He didn't pass the medical.

Too much rubbish in his blood.

That's it. When was that?

It was six weeks ago.

You must have got to know him quite well over the years.

I don't know about well.

He was an obsessive.

He only had one topic of conversation.

The hunting of the snake. Yes.

We think he might have had a rivalry going with someone.

Did you mention that?

Yeah. Yes, it was bitter.

It's what drove the obsession.

It was a sibling rivalry. His rival was his brother, Dr.

Conahorne.

Dr. Faulkner, there's a phone call for you.

Would you excuse me, Inspector?

Of course.

Thanks for your time.

You'll be fine.

Everyone's making such a fuss. I'll be perfectly all right.

I won't go back to work this week.

I'll take some time off so I can be here to look after you.

All I really need...

I'll make you some.

Well then, it hardly seems worth it with only three of you here, but let's try

and make a seminar of it, shall we?

So, is the truth always the highest good?

Kirsty, you always pitch in first. Give us the benefit of your perspicacity.

The truth has to be the highest good.

It's not an ethical question. It's a moral choice.

What is the truth, anyway?

This isn't A -level philosophy.

No, and you aren't Socrates.

Go on, Mr Vega.

Dazzle us.

Did some extra digging last night.

Late last night, was it?

Honestly, man, give yourself a break every now and then.

Yes, Mum.

No, I mean it.

Less work, more sleep.

I need your brain, all ten tons of it, in full working order.

As I said, I did a little extra digging last night.

The finding of the snarf by the Reverend Dr Connor Hawes. Published last year.

He claims to have solved the riddle, and that's not all. A phone trace on the

anonymous bidder for the annotated snarf manuscript brought up the main exchange

for Carlisle College.

Brother Vincent.

A stout defense.

And everyone give the lad a round of applause.

Come.

It's the feds. It's the bus.

We need to speak to you about your brother.

Leave.

You and your brother weren't close.

No, we weren't. We had nothing in common.

Not even the hunting of the snark?

You didn't share your brother's passion for it.

My brother's passion for it bordered on the deranged.

He conceived the notion that there was some kind of arithmetical calculation

encoded in the text.

Ludicrous and tedious.

And wrong.

Whereas you'd written that you'd found the snark.

Oh, that.

Well, I wrote that just to wind him up.

Do you have brothers, either of you?

Did you never give your brother a Chinese burn or hide his glasses?

No. I always liked my brother.

Used to beat me at Sabutio, my.

Before he died, your brother placed a bid on a rare manuscript of the snark.

Well, all right, yes, I admit it. I also placed a bid for the snark.

I had a long -running rivalry with my brother.

It began when I beat him at chess for the first time. He couldn't bear it. He

screamed. He wept.

He began to keep score.

He kept score for the next 40 years.

The snark, of course, is the ultimate puzzle.

For myself, I had no interest in it, but I couldn't just let Murray win.

Not after a lifetime of it.

Oh, for God's sake, you don't seriously think I would kill my own brother for

the sake of a puzzle?

Murray disappeared on the night of the 9th, sometime between 6pm and 9 the

following morning.

Where were you that night, Dr Hawes?

The 9th?

Oh, that was the night of my cocktails and ethics party.

I throw one once a month.

It's the only way I can get the students in.

They'll only discuss Cyrenaic hedonism if they can also practice it.

Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.

Aristippus of Cyrene.

What was your name?

Detective Sergeant Hathaway.

Dr. Halls.

The party.

Well, they were at it until the early hours.

Pretty much all night.

I couldn't get rid of them.

Violation.

Poison.

The dagger and the flame.

These have not wrought their pleasing patterns upon the banal canvas.

of our pitiful destinies.

It is because the soul, alas, is not sufficiently bold.

I am bold.

Are they still there?

Yes.

They're talking.

Close the curtains.

Close the curtains.

Thanks.

Forensics. Arid soil. Traces of it all over the front of Murray's body.

Arid soil?

You're telling me Murray Hall has died in the desert?

No, he died in Oxford.

There's only one place in Oxford with arid soil.

The Botanic Gardens.

The arid house, to be precise.

all this take. I don't like closing the gardens.

Nan's been murdered, Professor Wright. Well, of course. I'm sorry.

Where were you on the night of the nine?

I was here, at home, at the lodge.

Did you see or hear anything?

No. I find that difficult to believe, Professor. You are right on the spot.

I was drunk. I drink every night these days.

Who was that there in the gardens after hours?

Only the staff have keys, but it's not difficult to get in.

Students are always climbing over the railings.

I'm used to hearing people in the gardens at night. I don't notice it

That's one way in and out.

They're saying he died here, and not in the woods.

That's so awful.

And weird.

He died here, where I work.

And I'm the one that found him.

I'm going to have to ask you where you were on the night of the 9th.

Of course.

Yes.

The 9th.

It was a friend's birthday.

I'm afraid I got rather drunk and had to stay over.

Can I get a name?

Johnny Reeve.

Johnny J -O -H.

He's an old friend. I've known him for years. Since we were kids.

Friend of my brother's, really, but... Have I made it clear enough that he's

my boyfriend?

Just making notes right now.

Oh,

um... Yeah.

Have you ever seen this man at the garden?

I don't think so. I don't recognise him.

OK, well, if anything comes back to you or you don't

think of anything,

then give me a call.

Any time.

Did you just bow to her?

Yeah, I think I did.

Oh, God, Miss Bloody Marple.

Mrs. Marbury, I sincerely hope you're not pursuing your inquiries. No, no,

Inspector, I'll be trying to find you if you didn't let me finish.

You didn't hear the whole story. And I'm not going to hear it now. A couple of

witnesses have come forward. They're at the station.

But, Inspector, I... Go home, Mrs. Marbury. Go home and stay home.

My dad's Spanish.

So, you were in the woods when you saw two men behaving suspiciously.

What were you doing in the woods?

We were there for romantic reasons. We spent the night there.

We joked about what they might be up to, you know, burying a body or something.

And then we...

Read about Murray Hawes. And we know his brother.

Connor Hawes.

We're both at Carlisle. We had to come forward.

Could you describe them to us?

Oh, I've got photographic memory.

So you could describe them for the police artist?

I could draw them myself.

I'm a proper artist.

There's something not right about these two.

They blink too much.

Come on, let's take a stroll over to Carlisle College.

I shouldn't really do this.

I never liked a little tyke.

Why is that?

Well, in my opinion, sir, he doesn't show enough respect for the university.

He never goes to lectures.

Spends all his time in the river messing around with punts.

Does he now?

Thanks, Miss Rackett.

Vincent Vega, Mia Wally, Pulp Richard.

It's slow for you, that.

I hope he's got a warrant.

Then again, Vincent's room's on second thoughts. I don't care.

Nobody seems to like Vincent Vega.

Vincent Vega?

Simon Dawkins.

Mia's real name is Isabel Strong.

Changed their name by deed poll.

Why? They're this kind of person at Oxford.

They've been told their whole lives that they're one in a million.

Oxbridge material.

Then they get here and find they're one of a million because everyone here is

just like them.

You've been noticed.

What are these? Do you know?

Must be Wednesday Club stuff.

Looks like it.

Wednesday Club?

You're sure the Wednesday Club exists?

It's this legendary club for geniuses. Only the most extraordinary need apply.

I've heard stories about it. Everyone's heard stories about it.

Things that people would do to get in.

I thought they were apocryphal. I thought it was an open myth. No, no.

It exists.

Club for geniuses?

Club for narcissists?

How it works exactly, I don't know, but they talk about it all the time, Simon

and Isabel.

They're fixated on getting in.

Maybe messing with the police is their idea of clever.

Where have you been?

We've been waiting.

We're star witnesses. We're not just anyone.

Very funny.

Wasting these times is a criminal offence, Simon, Isabel.

Those aren't our names. Allow me to escort you off the premises.

So that's it.

You're not going to charge us? The thing is, you wanted to, so no, we're not

going to charge you. You're not worth the paperwork.

Inspector. Inspector.

Please don't dismiss me. Just hear me out.

Give me strength.

All right, let's have it.

There was a big teller at night.

to the Botanic Gardens.

He left himself in Little Quay at 12 .41 a .m. and didn't leave until dawn.

Dr. Alex Faulkner.

And you just happened to be passing?

Were you following Dr. Faulkner?

He's a regular visitor at the Botanic Gardens. I've seen him there on more

one occasion, always after hours.

All right, we'll look into it, but Mrs. Marbury, you have to listen to me. You

must leave the detective work to us. You corrupt one piece of evidence.

This whole case could go down. Do you understand?

Gold Chain Hall, seat of the Faulkner family since 1465, winner of Best New

Attraction 2008 and Best Garden 2010 and 11.

And yet he's hanging around the Botanic Gardens all night.

According to Michelle Marver.

Quite a place for a scientist to live, isn't it?

It says here that Alex Faulkner comes from a long line of gentleman

His great -great -grandfather worked with Lord Pelvin on the discovery of

absolute zero.

We'd like to speak to Alex Faulkner.

Alex.

Whatever for?

I'm Thea Faulkner. I'm his wife.

Where is your husband, Mrs. Horne?

He's in the garden, but I'll take you through the house. It'll be quicker.

I remember this place from when I was a kid. It was always locked up.

Yes, Alex was away a lot when he was younger.

He was a great explorer.

South America, Africa, Indonesia.

He always hated the hall.

He was often left alone here as a child.

All alone in a great house like this, can you imagine?

You can't tell me what this is about, Inspector.

We're investigating the murder of this man.

Murray Hawes.

I don't know him, I'm afraid.

You've never met him?

He hasn't come to the hall?

No, why would he?

He knew your husband.

This one, ma 'am, is it?

Oh, yes, Sam, thank you.

But you will be especially careful with this one, won't you?

Are you selling your collections?

Yes, Alex did sell a couple to help finance the work on the gardens. It's

worth it.

Numbers are up.

We're even managing to make money.

This one's been taken for some restoration work.

It's the house and grounds as they were in the 16th century.

The heyday of the gardens.

It was my idea to restore them to their former glory.

Hello, Inspector.

Dr. Faulkner, we have information that links you with the place where Murray

Hawes died.

Botanic Gardens.

Perhaps you could shed some light on that for us.

I am, um... What's that awful word?

Involved.

With Helena Wright, the head of the Gardens.

You're having an affair?

Yeah. I take it your wife doesn't know about this.

God, no, no, she doesn't know anything.

Where were you on the night of the 9th?

I was here.

Seemed very sure.

Most people need to check with dates. Oh, I remember.

We had a fight.

Helena and I.

She wanted me to spend the night with her. I wanted to stay with Thea.

I don't know much about affairs, personally, but isn't it usually the

round?

My marriage is very difficult at times.

Helena offers me comfort, and I'm weak, and I take it.

But I love my wife.

Wouldn't you do anything to keep the truth from her?

Why are you selling your collection?

My collection?

I only sell two pictures for the garden, not to pay off Murray Hall.

Did he find out about you and Helena?

He needed money to buy his snark manuscript. What, blackmail? No, Barry

wasn't blackmailing me.

Barry Halls wasn't my problem.

Helena, she is my problem.

What is it? What do you want? I've got to go.

I found this.

It's Murray's. I don't know what to make of it.

Yeah, he left it behind. I meant to put it in the lost and found.

I remember he asked for it. I couldn't find it.

He was always losing things.

Give it to me and I'll give it to the police.

Have you finished the orchid house?

Uh, yeah.

Are you sure? Because you wrongly labelled three specimens last week. I

correct your work. It's not good enough, Liz. But I double -checked.

And now you're correcting me.

Look, I've got to go out, but I'll be back in a couple of hours when I expect

find the garden.

15.

You'll find them downstairs.

I'm here now.

Poor old Alex Falkman.

The reluctant Lothario.

Which of these would you trust the least?

Too close to call.

Michelle Marber, the lady with bags. Don't tell me.

I've got... Two complaints against her here, one from Gold Chain Hall, the

from the porter at Carlisle. Apparently she's been harassing people there on a

daily basis.

I did warn her.

We ran a check.

It turns out she's a serial cop bother. She's got injunctions against her from

the Met and Edinburgh. God only knows what damage she's doing to the

investigation. Get it sorted, Robbie. Now.

It's an incident room.

I like to lie on the floor sometimes, look at the whole picture.

I think if I can see it all in one glance, I might understand it better.

But it never quite seems to.

Mrs Marbot, we hear you've been out and about with your little notebook again.

Check the rest of the house.

Mrs. Marber?

Oh, in fact, yes, I... How can I help you?

Would you like a cup of tea?

I don't know whether I've got any tea.

We warned you that impersonating a police officer was a criminal offence.

As is harassment.

You'd be making trouble again.

Sir? Mrs. Marber?

Sir?

What? We've got to come and look at this.

Oh, for God's sake.

He was found dead in his room.

He was doing his postgrad at Carlisle College.

The coroner returned death by misadventure and overdose, but she was

Stevie wouldn't have been so stupid.

It's an overused word these days, but he was... He

was a genius.

My miraculous boy.

Michelle, why didn't you tell us?

Oh, I've learned.

The surest way to be dismissed.

They give you a little card with a number on it. A helpline.

Least as Miss Marple, I got a few extra days.

Got a little bit closer.

I started by going backwards.

Trying to piece together the last days.

Too confusing.

So, I started at the beginning.

I must have visited every day of his life since he left me.

But I still don't know why he died.

That was his first day at Davy Institute.

His first day as Alex Faulkner's third assistant.

All that promise.

All that excitement.

And no idea what was to come.

Well, what happened?

Alex Faulkner.

Never satisfied. Nothing Stevie did was good enough.

He didn't work hard enough. He wasn't rigorous.

Stevie had his own way of working.

But Alex Faulkner is such a narrow... He sacked Stevie.

And then he came to the inquest and he stood up there in front of me and told

that my son was a drug addict.

My son did not die of an overdose.

My son would never have been so stupid.

So how do you think he died, Michelle?

But you blame Alex Faulkner for his death.

I don't know what he did. I don't know how it happened.

You actually think he killed him?

Yes. Yes, I do. With every fibre of my being.

But why? Why would he kill your son?

Perhaps he found something out.

Something about Alex.

Like what?

I don't know.

I don't know.

All right, I'll put a brew on.

They're rather nice, you two.

Michelle, you've got nothing in.

I can't be bothered to eat.

I just need to sleep.

Isn't it better to get her a bit of shopping in, will you? I don't know,

stuff, tea bag and milk.

Hello again.

Oh, hi.

You all right?

Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I'm a bit... I'm in a bit of a rush, actually.

I can't really stop.

No, of course.

Are you sure you're all right?

Yeah. Yeah, I just had a bit of a day.

Watch from hell.

Look, I've got to go. I'll see you around, OK?

Coroner's report on Stevie's death.

Blood talk, amphetamine and cocaine.

Drug -related paraphernalia in Stevie's room and all his fellow students were,

well, they testified that he's well known for his drug use.

Two -day inquest. Open and shut case.

He had a cryptic taste.

Kurt Cobain.

Da Vinci notebooks.

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Science does not know its debt to imagination.

Love, love, love.

That is the soul of genius.

Mozart.

You have been noticed.

Wednesday Club.

You are under consideration.

You have been chosen.

I'll eat the wheat.

Michelle, is Stevie a member of the Wednesday Club?

They're very keen on Stevie, of course.

But he wasn't interested.

A club for geniuses.

He knew what he was. He didn't need to be in a club to prove it.

One of the tutors at Carlisle College.

Wanted him to join. I think he was involved in some way.

He hounded him, in fact.

But Stevie couldn't have given a damn.

One of the tutors. Which tutor?

Connor Hall.

The Reverend Doctor.

Well, Stevie was an exceptional talent, but arrogant.

Arrogance is, in my opinion, the grossest of all stupidities. In

Wednesday Club, in thinking himself too good for it.

He proved himself unworthy of it. And yet you hounded him. That's what we're

told. And Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace.

They were down at our station yesterday, hell -bent on wasting police time.

Oh, were they? Well, yes, that doesn't surprise me.

Ah, Vincent and Mia are a couple of self -styled postmodernists.

They're attempting to perpetrate an act of living postmodernism.

An act of living postmodernism.

They're seeking to challenge the authority of the establishment.

In this instance, the police.

But I'm afraid they won't get in. There's no real depth to their thinking.

It's fancy dress intellectualism.

They're simply not interesting enough.

And yet they're under consideration.

They must have done something right.

What are you suggesting?

You placed a bid for the snark manuscript to goad your brother. You

Stevie Marber. You've got these kids waiting and hoping.

What I'm beginning to sense from you, Dr. Hawes, is a taste for manipulating

people. You have a morbid horror of talent, don't you?

I see you're wearing your brother's watch.

Second to none.

That's you now, is it? Now that Murray's dead.

Don't leave Oxford, sir.

We haven't finished with you yet.

Living with... host of monies, and I've never heard such a load of old cobblers.

That's not what they're up to. That's not how they were going to get in.

Let's just suppose that Murray was getting close to a solution to the

Connor has to try and block it.

And then Murray gets his hands on this manuscript, this manuscript that holds

the key.

Connor can't let his brother win. He'd rather let his brother die. He's got

these two kids who are desperate to get into this club, so he can get them to do

anything just on the promise of it.

It's a story.

Yeah, but do people really plot and scheme and kill her with some daft

Misguided person, mate.

No one rid me of this turbulent priest.

Murder by mistake?

Murder by misinterpretation?

Whichever way you look at it, it's murder by proxy.

Tell us about the Wednesday Club.

Legendary, isn't it?

It's a club for geniuses, for the extraordinary.

Maybe it's just a club for people who want to be extraordinary.

It is an elite for the truly gifted.

Oh, you really want to get into it, don't you?

Except that you're only under consideration at the moment, isn't that

Not quite gifted enough, I suppose.

Or maybe there are other ways into it.

Maybe it's not about being gifted. Maybe it's about being useful.

But the snark is a strange creature and will not be caught in a commonplace way.

A peculiar creature. The snark is a peculiar... You know the hunting

of the snark?

Quite a little crew we're building up. Murray Hawes, Connor Hawes, Vincent

Look, I'm studying it for my dissipation.

Not for Connor Hawes.

Who, by the way, doesn't think you'll get into the Wednesday Club?

Simply not interesting enough. Was that how he put it?

Don't protect him.

If he's manipulated you, made you promises.

You know, in our incident room, we have a whiteboard.

And right at this moment, all the arrows are pointing at you. Then charge us.

If you really had a case.

He'd have charged us already.

I already know the answer to this, but do they ever find the snark?

Baker finds him.

And then softly and suddenly vanishes away.

I'll tell you what, I'm getting sick of nonsense.

Poems or otherwise.

I'm sick of time wasters. I'm sick of speculating. I want facts. I want

evidence. There must be something we're missing about Murray.

Yeah, and I want to do a fingertip search of his house.

You and me, not uniform, not soco, just us.

You know what we're looking for.

And we will when we see it.

There's something about this house, isn't there?

That's in your soul, isn't it?

Any luck?

Not as yet.

Lab H.

Lab H?

I've got a clue.

I've forgotten what clues look like.

Yeah, hi. I'm trying to locate a particular laboratory.

Lab H.

How do you number your lab?

With numbers. Right, thanks.

No lab H to the Department of Pharmacology.

No lab H to the Department of Chemistry.

No lab H to the Department of Clinical Medicine, Chemistry, Biochemistry or

Pharmacology. It's looking more and more like a clue by the minute.

A clue we can't solve.

The impossible quest.

I can feel myself disappearing.

Are you all right?

My clothes smell of dry rot.

Murray's house.

All these lonely people pouring their lives into puzzles that can't be solved.

Ignore me.

I've got a touch of existential flu.

What? I'm going to say it just this once.

For your sake, you need a partner, James.

You need someone in your life.

Let's call it a day.

I want to check on Michelle.

I'm just going to look in, make sure she's okay.

You must remember to lock your door.

And please, stop leaving lighted thingies all over the place.

Like a walking public safety warning woman. I know, I know.

I've got too much to think about.

Have you got some news for me?

Oh, no.

No, on second thoughts, don't tell me.

What do you mean?

Stevie dies a hundred times a day in my head.

I see it.

His last breath.

It plays on a loop.

And then I fall asleep and I dream.

I dream that I can't get through the door.

If I could get through the door, I could save him.

If I...

knew how he died, at least I could stop imagining it.

But then if I knew, would I not just imagine that? And what if it's worse?

If you knew, you could think less about his death and more about his life.

This investigation, I'm not finding anything out.

All I'm doing, really, is retracing his death.

I go to a coffee bar and I sit in a chair and I think, maybe look at the

he sat in.

And I can almost feel his presence.

But as soon as I feel it, it's gone.

It slips away from me like mist under the sun.

Softly and suddenly vanishes away.

My wife.

I think about her every day.

But about it, about the accident, it's only every other day now.

I think about her as she was.

Her laugh, her smile.

I miss her.

I talk to her all the time around the house. Don't tell my sergeant.

Relive it.

Not anymore.

Well, anyway, not as often.

How did you get there?

I don't know how to get there.

I think it was when I accepted it.

When I stopped fighting it.

Couldn't tell you.

What have you got not wanting to know? I do.

I do want to know.

Please don't keep anything from me.

Michelle, we're not investigating Stevie.

We're investigating Murray.

Chances are I won't have anything to tell you.

Yes. Yes, of course.

You must do your job.

Is my hair all right?

You look perfect.

Ready?

Um... Hello,

my little jailbirds.

But where am I... Where is the Wednesday Club?

What did you expect?

Men in hoods and high hats, pomp and ceremony, a gathering of bishops and

high wizards.

This is it.

It's just you.

Just me.

Just.

That's not a very pretty word. You decide on a whim who's in. It's

It's all completely meaningless.

Yes, my dear, I'm afraid you're nothing special.

You're just another precocious child mistaken for something more.

Or you think you're special.

Oh, my God, you don't even touch the sides.

My brother, my brother, the prodigy, the beloved of God.

Look upon his genius and weep.

He has turned death itself into a marvel. His own death, the puzzle of

puzzles. And the answer?

He's me.

He has made me the answer.

But I'm not going to be the answer.

I'm not going to lose this one.

I'm not going to be the one who takes the blame.

For once, it's going to be the spoilt brat who gets it. Don't talk to her like

that.

No one talks to me like that.

You can go down without a fight.

If I'm not mistaken, this little box is the Wednesday Club.

It's the Wizard of Oz, isn't it? Just a little man behind a green curtain.

It's looking to me like this.

Wednesday club was for sorry exercise and mass bullying.

Sir, you have been summoned, V and M.

Oh, no.

We had more than one caller last night.

Michelle. We're going to talk to her.

With respect, sir, I think it should be me.

You're too close.

All right, yeah.

We found this this morning in Connor Hall's rooms.

Yes. I went to see him last night. I went to ask him for his help.

You've given up on me.

And he refused you. He refused to help.

What?

Connor's dead, Michelle.

Alex Faulkner killed him.

Connor was going to go and confront him.

Alex Faulkner killed my boy, and Alex Faulkner killed Mario's.

And you don't believe me! Alex Faulkner had no motive.

No reason to kill your son, no reason to kill Murray, and no reason to kill

Connor. None that you know of. Michelle, enough. You have more reason to kill,

to frame Alex Faulkner.

I've lived with death for the past six years.

I'm sick of it.

I'm ill with it.

Do you really think I'd want more?

Where's Stevie's jumper?

E and M.

Vincent and Mia?

We don't want to be called that anymore.

This is you, though.

We found it in Connor Hall's rooms.

He summoned you last night?

Why? What did he want?

To humiliate us.

To hurt us.

To make us take the blame.

And now Connor Hall's is dead.

What's Lab H?

It's one of the labs DB used.

I've never been able to find it.

It looks like something, but it's really a dead end.

No, it's something.

Michelle, we're going to need to analyze that blood.

You don't need to take it.

I can tell you it's Connor's blood.

He'd been in a fight.

He was bleeding and he bled on Stevie's top.

I tried to wash it up.

I'll return it to you. I promise.

How did you get those bruises?

Connor, we had a fight.

Two against one.

But he won.

No, he didn't.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Right.

Post -mortem's in.

So now we'll see, won't we?

It's not Connor's blood.

She said he'd been in a fight. Did you get the forensics for me? You would give

me the knife as a present.

Sorry.

Not just any old case, this one?

No.

Go on, Laura.

Right.

Cause of death, single blow to the back of the skull. There are some bruises.

So there must have been a fight.

Vincent and Mayor are covered with bruises.

Then the body fell into the river.

fell in.

So he was killed beside the river.

Yes, there's fresh mud from the riverbank compacted into the treads of

shoes. Then the body drifted some way downstream by the look of it.

Lots of wear and tear after death and silt in the pockets and folds of his

clothes.

Connor was found there.

Can I speak to you?

Go on.

I found a notebook.

Here, in one of the tool stacks.

It was Murray's.

I didn't know what to make of it. He was always losing things.

And Helena explained it away.

Said she'd give it to you.

I suppose I knew in my bones something was wrong.

Now this.

I'm sorry.

Where's Helena now?

She's in the lodge. She hasn't got up yet.

I'm not a dishonest person.

I didn't know what to do.

Helena, she's... She's fragile.

She hurt herself.

I just didn't know what to do.

Missing pieces of the puzzle are sort of our docking trade.

Half the time, you can't even see what's right in front of us.

Where were you last night?

I was here. I was in bed.

I was alone.

You were stood up.

Yes.

By Alex Faulkner.

Have you spoken to him?

Do you know where he was last night? No.

Oh, come on, Helena.

Look, I don't know where he was. I don't know anything.

Not good enough. Look, I have two murders linked to these guns.

I have Murray Hall's notebook hidden here.

And you want me to believe that you knew nothing at all about any of it?

All right, let's see if a trip down the station gets you talking.

What are these?

These are the seed pods off the laburnum tree.

I have to pick them up before the kids do.

They're full of cytosine. It's highly toxic.

Laburnum anagroidis.

Every single bit of this tree is poisonous.

But it's glorious when it's in bloom.

The flowers are bright yellow.

Beautiful.

I think they're laburnum trees in the picture.

That gold chain hall. There's this hall and then the long line of golden trees.

I'm sure they're laburnums.

Well, the hall was probably named after them.

Well, when the tree was first introduced to Britain, it was known as the golden

chain tree because the flowers hang in golden chains.

So an unnamed for gold chain hall would be... Laburnum Hall?

Lab H.

Not Lab H. Laburnum Hall.

The Burnham Hall. The Burnham Hall is another name for Gold Chain Hall. Lab H

Gold Chain Hall.

Check upstairs.

You, Professor, are going to show me what this is all about.

Alex?

You told us you'd sold one or two paintings. It looks like you've flogged

We have sold a number of pieces, yes.

And how much have you raised so far from the sales?

Somewhere in the region of two million pounds, I believe.

You're not spending all that in the garden, are you?

What are you using this for, Dr. Faulkner? Alex, don't speak to him.

word. I'll get a lawyer.

No, no, Helena. There's no point.

The jig is up. The jig is up. No, Alex.

It'll be all right. Please, don't let them take you away. Don't let them take

you away from me. Please, please, Alex.

What kind of work are you doing here?

Signature of all things by Jacob Burma. This is the doctrine of signatures, the

healing qualities of plants.

Where did these come from, Dr. Falconer?

The laburnum tree.

Laburnum seeds.

Full of cytosine.

Highly toxic. Murray Hawes' tox report.

Caffeine, alcohol, nicotine.

Michelle's house. What do you always notice about Michelle's house? Slightly

obvious. She's a smoker.

Always smells of smoke.

Murray Hawes' house smells of dry rot.

Not cigarettes. Murray Hawes was not a smoker.

So why was there nicotine in his blood tox?

Laura, I need you to do a check on the blood tox of Murray Hawes.

The nicotine reading.

Yeah, can you do it now?

It's just, I think the lab might have made a mistake.

I can tell you.

It is. It's cytosine. Yeah, I'll hear it from my pathologist. Thank you.

Yeah, I'm still here.

You're right. There is a mistake.

A tiny molecular difference. It's not nicotine.

It's cytosine.

But it's not its usual state.

It's been engineered.

Thanks, Laura.

Engineered cytosine, Dr. Faulkner.

He's trying to find the cure.

A cure for cancer.

No, could it?

Or is it a Nobel Prize you're after, Doctor?

No, it's nothing like that.

It's for me.

He's trying to find a cure for me.

Skin cancer.

He can't accept that there's no hope.

I thought I was the only one taking it.

She didn't know.

Thea didn't know about Murray.

Oh, God, Alex.

What have you done?

What have you done?

Cytosine is a vasoconstrictor.

There's been some good work done on vasoconstriction as a means of shrinking

tumours. And laburnum flowers are yellow.

It's a yellow plant, full of flavonoids that nature's fancied. Yellow. Figures.

On the plant's purpose.

I know it sounds mad. It's crazy, I know.

I'm crazed.

I can't lose you.

I won't be able to live.

You'll have me.

Dr. Faulkner.

Murray Hawes.

He needed cash.

And I needed a guinea pig.

We agreed three doses.

A hundred thousand per dose.

He was going to come here, but I took him to the Botanic Gardens. I didn't

Thea asking questions. I didn't want to lie to her.

And you, Professor Wright, what part did you play?

None. None. She... No, I acted. At all times, I acted alone.

So you gave Murray the third dose that the Arid had?

First two doses went well.

I got overconfident.

I raised the third dose.

He began fitting almost immediately.

He hit his head as he fell.

So you took the body out of the gardens, you buried it in the woods?

You came back to the gardens and cleared up the arid house, while the professor,

your lover, who lived in the gardens, saw absolutely nothing.

That's right.

She knew nothing about it.

I never meant to hurt him.

I was trying to save my wife.

You didn't mean to kill Murray, but you killed Connor.

He came to see you, didn't he?

He came to confront you.

So what happened?

He came to the gardens. He wanted answers.

He said he was the prime suspect. He said he wouldn't leave until he found

the truth. He was angry, desperate, he was violent.

And so you killed him.

You killed Connor.

And you chucked his body into the river like some piece of old junk.

Yes.

Did you want to touch it?

No, I didn't.

I didn't kill Connor.

No, look at me.

You know I didn't kill Connor, you know me.

You know I didn't. I couldn't have... He couldn't have done any

of it without me.

He couldn't have managed any of it on his own.

He needed me. You needed me for once.

You needed me more than I needed you.

I killed Connor.

One blow was all it took. One blow.

See?

He doesn't love me.

Stevie Marber. He's another person you didn't mean to kill.

I found out about your experiment.

Stevie? No.

No. He was helping me.

He was working with me.

It was the worst day of my life when Stevie died.

He would have got there.

You see, he was that brilliant.

If I'd got him working, got him clean, he would have made the breakthrough.

He would have succeeded.

Or I have failed.

You have not.

I thought you'd leave him to me.

I was waiting for you to leave him with me.

Helena, it was a comfort to me.

I don't want him to be alone.

I never saw this possibility.

that I'd be the one left behind.

You won't be able to bear it if he can't be with me, will you?

You won't be able to bear it.

I read the snark last night.

Didn't understand a word of it.

I've come to think that that might be the point.

Aye.

Apparently a girl once wrote to Lewis Carroll.

Asked him, why don't you just explain the snark?

He replied, are you able to explain things you can't yourself understand?

What do I say to her?

How do I tell her the truth?

Tell her the kindness.

You're good at that.