Original subtitles

Hello!

The Elvis Presley of puzzle setters. Where's James?

James is on some case.

Until three nights ago, when he didn't come home at all.

In fact, the only person that can access the police station is James.

Or somebody who looks remarkably like him.

Looks like a cipher.

He's using this to take notes about whatever he was investigating.

I will solve it.

Just need more data.

Need to find out what he's been doing,

what he's been working on, who he's been working with.

I've met most of his colleagues.

I can brief you on all of them.

DCI Taylor... Ah!

I'm led to believe that you've been performing miracles recently.

The man they arrested for the Sinclair murder has killed himself.

Something is being covered up here.

We know that.

Is this all connected to the Sinclair case?

The one that you and James were working? The blogger.

My husband is still missing.

He left you, all right?

My brother left you.

Holly Pinder was discovered dead.

Your wife has been arrested on suspicion of murder.

There's files here so restricted,

even I don't have access.

Adam Newsum, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.

I'm not DCI James Taylor.

I'm his brother, John.

The only Taylor who'd been working at this station

was the one who was actually a detective.

We're offering to put John on the payroll as a consultant.

A consultant in what?

Puzzles.

It's the source code.

It's how we solve the cipher.

I think this is it. It's an address.

It's all of Sinclair's research.

Somewhere in here, there's one story

important enough to kill him over.

How often do people get murdered around here?

Just taking these to Miss Kemper.

Box on the right.

Mummy, I think the tickets are in...

I know exactly where they are, thank you, Patricia.

Can I just say...? No, you can't.

You've said enough. Mummy, I really think... Enough.

Let's discuss this when we're at home.

Come along. You're in the left box, ladies.

Through the door, straight up the stairs.

Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats.

The show will commence in two minutes.

That's two minutes to curtain.

Thank you.

Can't see a bloody thing in here. Quiet, Mummy!

For heaven's sake, turn it off.

Well, you'd expect the usher to usher.

Really! Sit down. Why do you have to make such a fuss?

No standards any more.

Just sit down. People are looking at us.

Ladies and gentlemen, please turn off your devices.

Now what? Recording is not permitted.

Rack and ruin, this place. Shocking! Sh!

Find a back exit, bring the car around.

Now.

Um... What's happening?

Call Cambridge police. Ask for Ziegler.

You were always her best friend.

I may have been the one to marry her,

but that never changed.

I disappeared from my family's life

weeks before I disappeared from home.

And I told myself I was doing so in search of answers

and the greater good.

But the truth is...

...| was just looking for anything

to pull me away from a life I'd grown unhappy with.

I thought I could hear Dad's voice.

How do you know it wasn't your Uncle John?

Is he still in bed?

Mm-hm.

And slightly more nasal.

Why do you keep playing it?

Maybe I miss his non-nasal tone.

You know he had to say all that.

He was trying to protect us.

He knew someone could be listening in.

It was his only cover.

You know, your Uncle John says two things can be true at once.

Yeah.

Don't know what that means. Me neither.

I am glad you're more Bette than Taylor, sweetheart.

Thanks.

No, no, no, no, no.

Morning.

Oh, is this for me?

I'm going to make an early start.

"Shop burgled."

That's the story?

That is the entire story?

Where's my breakfast gone? I don't know.

You enjoy doing this, don't you?

I've always enjoyed looking for needles in haystacks.

Mm.

Two weeks you've been at it now.

14 whole days

wading through Sinclair's files.

You've... found nothing out at all.

Well, I wouldn't do yet, would 1?

This is just the first stage.

I'm... I'm cataloguing them all.

That pile on the right there,

that's for nonsense...

UFOs, ghosts, giant cats.

"Giant cats"? Yes.

I don't think they're giant-giant,

just... bigger than normal.

And that pile in the middle there,

that's people who qualify as famous under the modern definition.

That one on the end there

is for anything that mentions police or criminal investigation.

Ironically, it's the dullest.

And what happens when you have your three piles?

I'll discard the first,

shuffle the other two together...

...and then start the process again,

this time with stricter criteria.

Do it enough times and we'll end up with the one file

that Sinclair died for

and the reason for my brother's disappearance.

Probably.

I made that, you know. Mm?

Oh, thank you, Henry.

Very nice.

We had so much momentum.

Why hasn't the station called?

We need you back in there. That's where we need you.

Digging about, finding some facts, for God's sake.

You attended a crime scene,

you solved the crime within five minutes.

Why has nobody been in touch since?

Well, presumably, nobody's been murdered since.

Do you want someone to get murdered?

I don't WANT that... per se.

Well, I hope you feel very guilty.

Hello, Russell.

This seems smoother than usual.

What gear are we in?

The correct one.

That must be it.

John, do you think James wants us doing this?

Has it ever occurred to you that,

far from leaving a trail of breadcrumbs

for his genius brother...

...if not his wife to follow,

he's actually just using us to safely store the files he stole?

And now expects us to just sit waiting in the dark again?

Of course it has.

Really? Obviously.

But he should have got someone else to store them, then, shouldn't he?

Because I'm going to go through each and every one of them,

I'm going to find out what this is all about

and I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him home.

I'll probably need a lift then as well.

Good. Glad I'm involved somehow.

Hello, DI Carter. Hi, Lucy. How are you?

Um... Yes. Yes, good.

I'm pretty much totally over that whole

being-framed-for-murder thing, so...

How are you?

Fine. Um...

You're going to laugh when I tell you this

but turns out I don't have a driving licence.

Or rather, I do,

but I didn't realise that they run out.

When did it run out?

During Covid, apparently.

It was a confusing time for everyone.

So, the entire time you were impersonating a detective,

you were also driving around without a licence?

Yeah, but it seems rather minor by comparison.

Are you going to wait for me here?

John, the super wants to debrief,

and then we're attending a crime scene. We could be hours.

Right.

Is that OK?

We'll have someone run him home.

What does the super want? Is it good news?

DS Finch and DC Evans

have both been transferred to another station.

What? Why?

So they can live long and happy lives.

Holly Pinder died,

leaving a complete record of private emails,

search histories, deleted documents

and indiscreet keystrokes

from just about every person

who's ever worked at the station in the last decade.

All of her blackmail material.

Her entire collection of incriminating files

has been brought here.

The basement is now dedicated solely to that operation,

so is, therefore, out of bounds...

...to all of us.

I didn't know we had a basement.

Well, keep it that way.

You just told me... We don't know what's going to be uncovered,

but you can bet heads are going to start rolling soon.

James will be on there.

DS Finch and DC Evans, however, will not be.

Nor should they suffer guilt by association.

They both have very, very good careers ahead of them.

Really?

Both of them?!

Yes. Both of them.

So I gave them the option

of transferring away from the eye of the storm

and, when they both point-blank refused to take it...

...I made it an order,

one which I also gave to DCI Carter.

Which he refused.

"D C 1"?! Yes, John.

It turns out we've been functioning for some time without one, remember?

Oh, yes. Of course.

Sorry about all that again.

Congratulations.

Thank you.

We've got two new detective constables

with no connection to Cambridge

and no knowledge of you, James or anything that's happened here.

That must be nice.

And we're all going to keep it that way, aren't we?

We all know what's at stake if we don't.

Well, presumably if it's ever revealed I impersonated a detective

and you helped cover it up,

then we'll all go to prison, won't we?

Right. Well, I'll definitely try and avoid that, then.

Do I still have to call you "ma'am"?

Well, why don't you try calling me "Carol" and see how it sounds?

Um...

I don't think it'll sound quite right...

...ma'am.

Ma'am.

I liked DS Finch and DC Evans.

Well, they're not dead, John, they're in Colchester.

And I think they liked me.

What if these new ones don't like me?

What's not to like?

I've always been told I'm an acquired taste.

Yeah, well, honestly, John, so are these two.

Look at this. Oh, my God. It's just sat back there.

That's not creepy at all, is it?

This is a crime scene.

Crime scene's up there. Nobody died onstage, did they?

Mind, I haven't read the reviews.

Where is DCI Carter?

Why does he need an outside consultant?

He holds the highest closure rate for the district.

Brilliant. That's going there, is it? Mm.

Have you heard anything about this...

...puzzle guy they're bringing in?

Ludwig? Yeah. Not much.

Apparently supposed to be some sort of

off-the-charts super genius, though.

Oh, it's a "pull� one.

Well, they should have a sign.

Good morning.

Again.

This is John Taylor,

crime scene consultant.

"Crime scene consultant" - Is that my title?

That sounds good, doesn't it?

Yeah.

And this, DC Ethan Cole and DC Caitlin Sullivan.

That's his. No, it's not.

It's a prop from the show.

What were you doing with it?

I wasn't doing anything with it.

I think we should add it to the box, don't you, John?

Mm? Oh, yes. Good idea.

Could you stay here, please?

Excuse me?

The crime scene consultant would like you to stay down here, please.

So, the victim was there...

...there was someone there and someone there.

Her daughters.

And she was killed in front of hundreds of witnesses.

Can you see me?

Yeah, I can. Sorry, why do I have to stay down here?

To see if you can see me. All right.

Well, I can. So...

Can I sit here?

Well, it didn't do the last person much good

but by all means.

Oh.

How about now?

Top of his head. How much of the top of my head?

How much of the top of his head?

Down to the eyebrows.

How tall was she?

Oh. Uh...

I don't have the exact... Uh...

She was a little old woman.

So, no witnesses.

What about that box opposite?

That must have a clear view into here.

Yeah. First responders had the same idea, but it was empty.

Really? It says "sold out" downstairs.

There was an usher stationed outside, about...

...two feet away.

Testified that no-one came in or out.

Perhaps the usher did it. Why would the usher do it?

How should I know? First I've heard of them.

It wasn't the usher, John. We have a confession.

You have a confession?

I did it. I killed her.

Well, then what am I doing here?

There's no puzzle.

Oh, there's a puzzle.

I did it. I just snapped.

Two confessions?

And only one stab wound.

Wait. That means we need to uncover who... didn't do it.

Basically.

Well, this is a new one.

What about this one?

My God, Henry. It's covered in blood!

Oh.

Oh, no, no, that's just that.

It's ketchup, Mum.

Sweetheart, three people have been killed over these files.

Please, do make an effort

not to smear your breakfast all over them.

What's in it? It's just bacon.

Uh, no. Sorry. It's...

...a cabal of rich families

who perform ritualistic sacrifices

in order to maintain power.

I mean, it's not impossible, is it?

Well, what would your Uncle John say?

Ah...

But that's... ..absolutely ridiculous.

Yes. Nonsense pile, please.

This is hopeless.

I don't know what I'm looking for.

This is not my skillset at all.

I should be out there doing something.

Like what?

I don't know.

I mean, investigating James's colleagues,

questioning Sinclair's neighbours,

staking out Ziegler.

You know, something proactive.

I don't even have your dad's police badge any more.

Your Uncle John gave it back, for some reason.

Yeah, well, I think he kind of had to.

I also really don't think that would have worked.

You look a lot less like Dad than Uncle John does.

Wasted on him, that badge was.

I wonder if you can buy fake ones anywhere.

Hey. Who's this?

Oh, looks like that chap from the telly.

With someone I'm going to assume is not his wife.

Gosh, where did they get this?

It looks like it was taken from the inside of a wardrobe.

Do you think it's connected?

Important?

Gosh, no. I doubt it. I don't think he's ordering hits on people.

I mean, he presents a show about antiques, gardening.

Yeah, well, maybe we can sell it to the tabloids.

Mm.

No, Mum, that was a joke.

Mm?

No, no, I was um-ing about something else.

Just popping out. You crack on.

What? Sorry. No. Where are you going?

Well, is there anything for lunch?

Gosh, no. I shouldn't have thought so.

I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't understand.

Personal interest, how?

As in, he knew the victim or...?

Quite what motivates Chief Constable Ziegler

to demand updates on specific cases is beyond me.

But he's here now.

This is really bad timing, ma'am.

You'd better give him the heads-up.

And for God's sake, make sure they're NEVER alone together.

So, um, what...

What qualifications do you have, Mr Taylor?

Hmm?

Oh! Ten GCSEs and four A levels.

No, sorry. I mean,

what qualifies you to be a crime scene consultant?

Well, I suppose the geography one helps a bit.

Although, I actually only got a B in that.

What? You do know this is the guy who solved the car park murder

everyone's been on about? What?

The man who drowned in the middle of a multi-storey?

How'd you do that? Oh, that was easy.

I could have done that one with a GNVQ.

Chief Constable Ziegler's on his way.

Chief Constable Ziegler?!

Yeah, John. I don't believe you've met him yet, have you?

That's right, I haven't.

Who is he?

He's Chief Constable Ziegler.

He's the Chief Constable.

I've actually met him quite a few times.

Oh, yeah? Does he know your name?

Probably.

Russell, can I just...?

I've met Chief Constable Ziegler loads of times.

More often than I'd like, quite frankly.

No, John.

James has met Chief Constable Ziegler a lot of times.

You've not met him once.

God, I wish you had a different face.

Me, too.

Yes. So this is the man in question.

Our new consultant, John Taylor.

DCI Taylor's brother?

As I said.

Twin brother?

Did I not mention that?

Identical twin brother?

Wait. Your brother's police?

He was, yes. Before he retired.

Hello again, sir.

Chief Superintendent Shaw tells me

that you solved your first case with us in under 24 hours.

It pretty much solved itself.

We need this one closed as quickly

and with as little fuss as possible.

We will, sir, and we'll keep you posted.

A word, please. Sir.

Oh, it's always nice to see you, sir.

He has no idea who you are.

I think that went quite well, don't you?

Now, do you think I could talk to these women, please?

Yes?

Oh, hi. Yes, hello.

Um. I'm...

Oh, not to worry. I'm coming up.

Thank you! What?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello.

Where are all the reporters?

Sorry. Who are you?

Oh... Lucy. Lucy Bette, photojournalist.

Freelance.

Is this the whole place?

What do you want?

What do YOU want? More like.

How about this?

Is that...? Yes. It is.

How'd you get this?

Oh, I can get anything.

That's merely a whistle-wetter.

So, what do you think? I'm not very expensive.

All I really need is a little lanyard

with your publication's name on it

and someone who's willing to say

I was on assignment

if I ever got caught in a stationery cupboard or something.

Why would you be in a stationery cupboard?

Oh, I don't know.

I think you're confused or...

...possibly unwell.

This is the East Anglia Advertiser.

We sell advertising space.

We do not cover...

...the news.

Well, you do cover crime.

We cover stories of local interest.

Well, then, I'm your girl.

Mm-hm.

It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mrs Bette.

I don't think you mean that. I don't. No.

Listen, if you want the skinny on crime, I can get it.

I'm married to a DCI.

Oh, he has my sympathies.

Yes, and my brother-in-law is a specialist consultant.

Oh, it must be thrilling for him.

He's famous, actually. He's called Ludwig.

Oh, I'm sure he is.

Do give him my...

Wait. Ludwig?

The puzzle guy?

Look, I've already... I've already turned it on.

Have you? Yeah, yeah.

You just...

Yeah, you've turned it off, now. Have 1? Yeah.

Oh, yes. So I did.

Yeah. No.

Should we interview the suspect now?

Yes. No, yeah, we probably should do that.

Miss Lowery, why did you kill your mother?

If you'd spent the past 64 years living with her...

...you wouldn't need to ask that.

It wasn't... all bad.

We have lovely Christmases

and, once a year, we all go on a cruise.

I'm going to miss that.

So, why did you do it?

She wouldn't let me have a dog.

When you were a child?

No. Last week. A bichon frise.

It wouldn't have taken up any room at all.

I'm never allowed anything.

I did, once, have a husband. Briefly.

He died.

Not necessarily blaming her...

...although I'm pretty sure she prayed for it.

I was at the end of my rope.

Or is it tether?

Tether's more contextually correct,

but I'll allow either.

Mummy had just banned me

from going out to see a friend on Sunday.

When I say, "Friend,"

ex-husband.

I hadn't seen him for 20 years. I was...

...quite looking forward to it.

The row started in the taxi...

...and it lasted the whole journey.

Mummy always said he was a bad influence

and that he'd be an even worse influence now

because he's probably become an alcoholic.

And then, somehow, the dog becomes involved in all this.

A dog I didn't even have

and was quite prepared to name Betty after her.

She spent half the journey forbidding Portia from seeing her ex

and the other half telling me rabies was making a comeback.

Oh! Years of this.

Then I just snapped.

I was sitting there. I was...

...thinking about it all,

and I just snapped.

Right in the middle of the overture.

I've always had a quick temper.

I won Miss Cambridge in 1979

and the judge patted me on the bum,

so I punched him in the face.

Embarrassing at the time.

I'd just said I wanted world peace.

All that stuff in the back of my mind, all 50 years of it,

pushed its way to the front

right at that exact moment.

The lights went out.

I found myself reaching into Mummy's bag...

...| felt the scissors...

...and then...I just...

Mm. Please tell my sister I'm sorry...

...and that I love her.

Whichever one didn't do it

knows that the other one did and is protecting her,

whilst the one who did do it

knows that we can't prove that the one who didn't do it

didn't do it

and, therefore, can't possibly demonstrate who did.

It's a real thinker.

If solving this case keeps Chief Constable Ziegler off our backs,

I'm half tempted to just flip a coin.

How would you decide which one to assign heads to?

Do not be alone with him at any point, OK, John?

I'm serious.

I can't envisage a scenario where that would occur.

Maybe in here.

These piles have got bigger!

Have you been using my piles?

I've got a much more complex system than I led you to believe.

I'll have to... OK, don't say no, OK?

Why does every conversation have to start this way?

Well, you just started a conversation about piles,

so I don't think you've got a leg to stand on.

I got a job at the paper.

"The East Anglia Advertiser."

I am their new crime reporter.

For the East Anglia Advertiser?

Yes, well, it's not an official position or anything yet

but as long as I submit one crime photo every two weeks

and you give them two puzzles a week,

then I get to keep this badge,

and you know what that means. Wait. Sorry...

I'm allowed to go places.

I'm allowed to ask questions.

I can actually do something.

Terrific. What was that bit about me? Yes! Good news.

Turns out that Gareth, editor, is just a huge fan of Ludwig.

They're all huge fans.

The whole bullpen.

What are just two piddly little puzzles a week?

For the East Anglia Advertiser?

Oh, come on, John, I won't tell The South Bank Show if you don't.

Look, I get to investigate now like you're supposed to.

I can go places. I can talk to people.

They'll talk back to me.

They'll have to talk to me because I'm press.

And who exactly are you planning on talking to?

Oh, I don't... I don't know.

I don't have any leads yet.

I don't suppose you've got any leads, have you?

All of Holly Pinder's computers have been brought to the station.

They're going through them now.

It's a whole operation.

They're going to find whatever it is we're looking for.

And if they find it first... It'll disappear.

And we'll have no proof.

You've got to get in there.

Do I?

I mean, we do have the answer somewhere in those piles.

Perhaps if I stayed up a bit later and...

Right, I guess I do have to get in there.

Today is not going the way I expected at all.

Will you do the puzzles?

Do I have to say they're Ludwig's?

I suppose... maybe a word search and a jumble. Yes!

Are you not worried about Mum?

You know, playing Lois Lane?

I'm neither worried nor surprised.

She has form.

Ran her own detective agency for a bit.

What?

"Lucy Bette Investigations."�

The LBI.

Your father and I used to work for her.

I'm sorry. When was this?

Summer of 1986.

Lucy would usually find the mystery,

and then she and your dad would go off and investigate it.

I'd stay in the office to answer any calls.

And were there any calls?

Well, no.

There wasn't actually an office, either.

Or a phone.

Fun times.

I'm going to take my piles to my room.

The real mystery is how she fit all this into her handbag.

All three of their prints are on the scissors.

She must have been carrying around her own murder weapon for years.

That's grim.

All of this is useless. What?

Even if it meant anything,

it wouldn't mean anything

because we've got two people...

both of whom are claiming guilt.

Both subjects have made exactly the same statement,

to paraphrase, "I killed Mum."

The sister who's telling the truth

knows the other sister is lying,

and the sister who's lying knows the other sister

is telling the truth.

It's like that film where they had to ask the guard on one door

what the guard on the other door would say

if they asked him which door they should open.

You know, the one with the Muppets?

You're describing a variant of a puzzle called Knights and Knaves

but it won't work in this situation.

Why not?

Because neither of our suspects is governed by the rules of the puzzle.

They don't always have to lie,

and they don't always have to tell the truth.

The whole thing is dichotomous.

Either she did it or she did it.

There is no third option.

I wish there were.

Sorry. So, we're struggling with two suspects

and you think that a third would help? Well, it would...

It would break the puzzle.

It's the binary nature of it that's giving them the advantage.

One truth, one lie.

50/50.

Oh, goody.

Detective. Constables.

John Taylor.

Do you have progress?

Well, we've actually been...

We're REALLY stuck.

It happened in complete darkness,

and there are no witnesses at all.

It's absolutely infuriating.

Well, box one could see in...

as you, yourself, stated.

Nobody was in box one, Constable.

Well, I... I found a ticket stub in there.

I submitted it as evidence.

I don't know why it's not up there.

There's a crisp packet up there.

Well, if it was a ticket stub, we can trace the payment back,

get an address? Yeah, obviously.

So, shall I go to evidence?

That won't be necessary, Constable Evans.

Constable Cole, sir.

I am aware of the occupant of box one.

I've spoken to her and she didn't see anything.

Joanne Kemper.

The MP?

Our MP.

She called it in. She left. She isn't involved.

Um...

I think I'd really like to speak to her.

And I've just told you that she didn't see anything.

So, what exactly did she call in?

I'll give you five minutes...

...but I do not want that woman's name appearing in any report.

Understood?

I'm sure we'll have no reason to, sir. Shall we?

I don't think this requires

two members of the constabulary, DCI Carter.

I'm sure you all have your own leads to be following up.

Come with me. What?

No, because I... I usually go with DCl Carter, see?

Um...

I just...

I really like spending time with DCI Carter.

Well, I'm sure he'll be here when you get back.

Just go now.

What...? Just chill out.

You have two new messages.

Hi. Right,

listen, I'm chasing a story. Can't say too much.

If anyone from a prison rings you to verify who I am,

just verify who I am.

Why are you not answering your phone? It's, like, half past nine.

Hi again. Sorry, it's Lucy Bette, by the way.

We met yesterday. OK, bye. Oh.

The East Anglia Advertiser?

Well, I don't have a car to sell

and you're not a journalist.

I am.

Anyway, it's just a few questions. It would really help me out.

And seeing as you nearly got me banged up

for a crime that you committed,

I think that you owe me one.

Sure. OK.

I have absolutely no idea

what Holly had on her computers.

I never kept track of the dozens of people she was blackmailing

and as for whatever this file you're all looking for is,

not a clue.

Wouldn't know it if I saw it.

How's that for starters?

Somebody else was here asking you about all this?

Oh, you know full well they were.

Your mate was in here this week,

sat right there.

Big guy.

Ziegler?

What?

No, who's Ziegler? No, Carter!

DI Carter.

Oh, should I expect this Ziegler guy, too?

DCI Carter was here asking about Holly's computer?

What... Did he ask about a file?

A particular file?

I don't know what it is.

And by the way...

...I've started asking my own questions in here,

and do you know what I've learned?

That the last prisoner

to receive this level of interest from you lot...

...ended up with the worst case of suicide anybody's ever seen.

Yes, I know.

Oh, good!

I'd hate to think I was imagining it all.

You know...

.if I'd known it'd cause this much trouble...

...I wouldn't have killed her in the first place.

You really don't know what everybody's looking for, do you?

No.

And I'm starting to think none of you do either.

Do me a favour.

Spread the word...

I'm not accepting any more visitors.

Also, I'm not suicidal.

Maybe mention that, too.

Sorry.

Niece.

Not my niece. Someone else's.

Well, this is great.

It must have taken quite the effort

to make sure the one thing we didn't want to happen happened.

I could hardly rugby tackle him, could I?

Look, it's him.

He said, "You told me not to be alone with Chief Constable Ziegler.

"Now I'm in his car and he keeps giving me funny looks.

"I don't think he believes I'm texting someone's niece

"and I don't know where we're going.

"Can you trace this text and send backup, please?"

"Backup"?

DCI Taylor.

Your brother.

Where is he?

I don't know. We were never that close, really.

Presumably, you were close enough

for him to recommend you as a consultant

to a major police force.

Otherwise, how else did you wind up here?

That's ever such a good question.

Would you pass on a message from me?

Would you tell him that it is extremely important

that he contacts me?

Shall I tell him why? No.

What's happening now?

What do you mean?

We're here.

Oh.

Now...

Joanne Kemper's father was a close personal friend of mine.

His daughter's future lies in government...

...making her a political target.

Witnessing a crime would play in the press

no differently to committing one.

She might as well have committed one, then.

Though, obviously, what you say

does make sense.

Mm.

Shall I tell you why we won't close this case... ever?

Because it requires one person to retract a confession

with zero incentive to do so.

Yeah.

And because our only witness is

being interviewed by a crossword setter.

Yeah.

Nice house.

Deputy Chief Constable.

I wasn't aware you'd be here.

Miss Kemper has several high-profile appearances this week.

I do hope all this is necessary, sir.

Who's that?

Deputy Chief Constable Routledge.

He liaises with the Met's specialist protection unit

to mitigate the risks against Miss Kemper.

An appointment I gave him.

Hi. Come on through.

Oh, Miss Kemper.

John Taylor, crime scene consultant.

Joanne Kemper, Member of Parliament for Cambridge, St Michael's.

Nice to meet you.

John Taylor, was it?

Yes. Hello.

Well, I'm sure the Chief Constable has explained my reluctance

to be publicly involved in this matter -

I believe the term is "optics"...

but what is it exactly that you need to know?

I've already told Ronan everything.

Sorry. Who's Ronan?

Oh.

Oh... Um...

Uh...

Yes. Would you...?

Ronan?! Really?

Um...

Sorry. Would you mind telling me... precisely what you saw?

Right. Uh...

The show was about to start,

someone opposite was waving a phone about

so I have a look through my opera glasses...

Yes, I own opera glasses.

I'd rather that wasn't bandied about either.

...| see three latter-aged women in perms, pearls and furs -

my voting base, quite frankly - and so I let it slide.

She also performs really well

with 25-355.

Huge on social media.

Yes. Thank you, Hannah.

There was a blackout.

Stage lights come up.

I have another look over and...

...dead. Stabbed.

And the other two are just sitting there watching the show.

But you never saw the deed itself...

...or their reactions?

No, thank God.

I did.

I'm sorry. What?

Oh, no. Not the actual...

Their reactions.

I saw their reactions.

It was... awful.

Like they both just suddenly saw her at the same time.

You didn't tell me that.

Are you OK?

Yes.

Yes. I'm fine.

Who jumped up first?

The one on the left or the one on the right?

Oh, I don't...

I have no idea. Hmm.

Sorry.

No, no. Not your fault.

You've actually been very helpful.

We should probably have spoken to her in the first place.

No offence.

None taken.

Hmm.

John, where are you? Can you talk?

Are you still with the Chief Constable?

The fox is indeed still inside the henhouse.

Oh! That was probably less coded than you imagined, John.

How long, post-murder, were the suspects in the box for?

According to the usher,

they pretty much stumbled out as soon as the curtain opened.

Did the usher stay with them?

Until the police arrived, yes.

So they were never alone, post-murder, in the box?

John, I'm going to put you on speakerphone.

What are you putting me on speaker for?

Hello? Can you hear me?

Were they arrested separately?

Yes.

And are they being held separately?

Yes.

Have they been kept separated ever since they left the box?

Yes.

Great. Keep it that way.

This is fine.

I've got a few errands to run.

Wait a minute. Where are you going? Thanks.

Hello?

How do you know that?

Because I've just visited Adam Newsum in prison!

You what?! No, no, it's fine

because I'm a journalist now, remember?

And I did ask you if you had any leads, and you didn't,

so... I thought you and the team were under strict orders

not to pull at that thread.

Yes, we are.

So, why was DCI Carter there,

asking about Holly's computers?

I don't know.

Where are you? What are you doing?

I'm at the theatre, trying to work out which of two women

didn't kill their mother.

Well, can you do that later? This is important.

Russell Carter is the one person that we thought we could trust.

Who says we can't?

I mean, we've been snooping around behind his back,

and we're not baddies.

Two things can be true at once.

You mean like how a husband can use being bored with his life

as a convincing cover story, whilst also...

...actually being bored with his life?

James wasn't bored with his life.

How do you know?

Because he had such a nice one.

He had to come up with a lie that was plausible

or it wouldn't have worked as a lie.

So it is plausible?

It allows doubt.

That's the purpose of a plausible lie.

It splits the odds.

I mean...

...assuming not every player of the game

was in possession of all the facts,

it wouldn't even have to be that plausible.

Not really.

It would just have to be...

Well, not impossible.

What?

Oh, sorry, I was...

I was talking about the murder there.

Although you can sort of apply all that to your situation, too.

I'd better go.

So, he just got out of the car and legged it?

Apparently so.

I'm sure you can imagine how well that went down.

Have you called him? Yes, ma'am.

He just keeps saying, "Two seconds," and then hangs up again.

Oh. Hmm.

John, where are you?

What? Why?

He wants us to bring the sisters to the theatre

and says he can almost definitely find out who did it if we do.

Is there a reason he can't do that here?

Is there a reason you can't do that here?

He hasn't got a car,

his battery's nearly dead,

and he doesn't know where the station is from there anyway.

Right.

Let's start by outlining the basic facts of the case.

What's he saying? Apparently, he's going to outline

the basic facts of the case.

Oh!

I think you might need to project a bit, Mr Taylor.

"Project.� Right.

One murder, no witnesses,

two confessions.

And of course, no conviction - Should things remain this way.

That is the idea, is it not?

One of you is deliberately lying about committing the crime

because you believe that, by doing so,

you will protect the one you presume actually did it.

"Presume"?

Well, they can't actually know

any more than anyone else, can they?

The... The whole thing occurred in darkness.

They're simply assuming their sister did the deed.

But... they were the only ones there so if they didn't do it,

then who did?

That is precisely the question this puzzle has been designed

to stop us asking, Detective Constable,

because, if we open our minds to the possibility

of BOTH confessions being false,

well, then it becomes a whole different puzzle altogether.

This theatre seems to lack maintenance funds.

One would at least expect the boxes to be taken care of.

But, no.

I've sat in the same chair that your mother did,

and I don't think it's had a nut tightened in 20 years.

I don't think Mummy ever sat in a chair she didn't complain about.

Well, on this occasion,

with good reason.

Two bolts are missing on the back seat bracket,

causing the chair to rock

and create a jarring slant-tilt when you lean back.

And don't get me started on the seat springs!

They're really bad.

The seat is hinged and relies on two wooden stoppers

to keep it flat, in the down position -

both of which are extremely worn

and barely functional.

Have you ever played "Buckaroo!"?

There you go, then.

Can we... go now?

I don't think so.

John, what are you saying?

That this was no murder.

It was an accident.

Lilibeth Lowery was messing about with her mobile telephone

after the house lights had gone down.

You told her off.

Quite right, too.

I doubt she took being reprimanded well,

but it was fate's hand, not yours,

that determined that, this time, she wouldn't get the final word.

Because in that brief gap between the lights going out

and the curtains opening,

Lilibeth Lowery, bag in hand,

lurched back in her chair.

Lilibeth pulled herself forward,

putting all her weight on the front of the seat.

The two wooden stoppers snapped off,

the seat tipped downwards,

pushing Lilibeth forward

with her bag.

Momentum, and a balcony...

...did the rest.

It really was one in a million.

You're sure?

Oh!

I don't believe it.

I really thought you did it.

And Mummy always said I was the stupid one.

What?

He just made all that up.

She didn't get fired out of her seat into a bag of scissors.

That's impossible.

It's very improbable.

Just scratching plausible.

But like any good lie,

it's just about possible enough.

At least for the one who didn't kill her mother

and was hoping, against all odds,

that there was a vague outside chance

that her sister hadn't either.

I did, by the way.

Kill Mummy.

Obviously.

It wasn't the usher, was it?

Well played, Mr Taylor.

How do I get down from here?

Ah, DC Cole, perhaps you...

Go ahead.

I'll use this. It's fine.

Oh, God.

Absolutely. You have my word. Thank you, sir.

Chief Constable Ziegler

offers his congratulations.

Oh. Stay out of his way from now on.

Did he say that, too?

No.

But he did ask about your brother...

...again.

He seems very keen to have a word.

He's not the only one.

Do you know where he is?

I don't.

Are you still actively looking for him?

He knows where I am.

Well, he knows where we all are

and the state he's left us in.

Thank you, John.

That will be all.

Right you are...

...ma'am.

Second floor.

The basement is now out of bounds to all of us.

You've got to get in there.

They're going to find whatever it is we're looking for.

Doors closing.

Doors opening. Ground floor.

Oh.

Thank you.

Doors closing.

It's really quite a wonderful photo, Mrs Bette.

Lovely...

...use of shadow. What's it of?

"What's it of?" What do you mean? It's a crime photo.

There was a murder in that theatre

and, presumably, that woman there did it.

And how exactly am I, or any

of our readers,

supposed to know that?

You want me to write a story to go with it, do you?

Oh! "Want.�

Naively expect.

Yes.

That's no problem for me.

Bye!

All right? No. I've had an incredibly stressful day,

half of which was spent trapped in a car with Ziegler.

Hello. What were you doing in a car with Ziegler?

Hyperventilating, mostly.

Then he took me round to this woman's house

who clearly knew James, even though she didn't say so.

What? How do you know that?

I'm hopeless at reading people,

but I have been a twin all my life.

There's one look I can always read.

Nice to meet you.

John Taylor, was it?

"I know you, don't I?

"No, no, you must be the other one."

She definitely knew James.

Why wouldn't she say something?

I don't know,

but she also called Ziegler "Ronan".

I didn't know he even had a first name.

Did James ever mention a Joanne Kemper to you?

Uh, no. Do you think that...?

Wait, I recognise that name. No, no, Henry. She's a politician.

She's always on the news.

I don't watch the news. I don't watch the news either.

It's awful.

Do you know, I never really did much investigating

during the summer of Lucy Bette Investigates.

It was more...

James would sort of invent a mystery

and then just solve it himself.

My role was more...

...sticker-making.

Oh.

"Joanne Kemper.� I knew it.

I knew I'd heard of her.

She's in the Sinclair files.

Which one?

Oh, goodness. Henry!

Is that blood? No. It's ketchup.

But this is absolutely ridiculous.

Has there been a murder? There has. Yes.

With over 40 witnesses stood round in a circle.

And you need help with that?

Owen Doyle was a psychopath.

The man was obsessed and dangerous.

Did you do it?

Can anyone who has no blood on them please raise their hands?

There's too many variables.

Can you help me get an interview with Joanne Kemper?

No.

Is she here? She's not.

No. Are you sure?

Chief Constable Ziegler is on official leave.

Do you think Holly had something on the Chief Constable

and they found it?

Chief Constables are suspend able.

Even he answers to someone.

Even he answers to someone.

Yes, of course he does.

Ode To Joy by Beethoven