Original subtitles

He's late.

He's a psycho.

Can't expect punctuality.

People actually get fun out of this?

Just the intelligent ones.

Look on the bottom.

Says not for use by children under five cops and the cops.

It's half an hour past the deadline.

Have you ever thought of taking up yoga?

Look, I got the other message 24 hours ago.

It said message, which always means I get

another message 24 hours later.

Why should this time be any different?

What I don't understand is why he picked you?

I mean, out of all the reporters.

The man has an eye for talent.

He knows you'll talk to us.

Well, how could he know that?

Don't underestimate him.

Creegan's right, this guy is a clever bugger.

Part of me hopes we don't hear from him.

Thought that was why we were here.

We've found a connection.

The last two victims were killed 24 hours after you

got a message from him.

Anything else?

No, that's it.

Oh, shit.

The usual, from nowhere.

Shit.

Apologies for dragging some of you from your beds

but this is a matter of some urgency.

Dave?

Yeah, our killer has sent Laney another message, which

means if he sticks to his routine,

and we've no reason to believe that he won't, that he'll

kill again within 24 hours.

There was nothing in the message?

The address is impossible to trace.

Changes every time and he's jumping around Usenet

using bogus addresses.

He knows his stuff.

Marion.

We know the last two murders took place in the warehouse

close to central London.

But in fact, the locations where the bodies are dumped

seemed fairly random, which suggests that the selection

of the victims is unplanned--

opportunist.

Well, I think they're planned.

I mean, this guy likes to be one step ahead.

Maybe he's deliberately making it look random.

What did the message actually say?

Mentioned something about sending a reward.

For what?

He likes Laney's writing style.

OK, he could contact Laney at any time.

I want someone with him.

I'll do that.

Here you go.

Oh, thanks.

Need caffeine.

All right.

I think I've lost the ability to sleep.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I haven't slept since the last message.

Think we'll catch him?

- Do you? - No chance.

Ah, thanks for the vote of confidence.

Nah, this guy's super intelligent.

What, you can say all that from just a few short messages?

No, I mean, it's the sense of him.

It's like he's in the air.

I can't explain it.

Past year he's taken over my life.

I hardly write about anything else.

I don't think I'd know how.

You go catching him, I'm out of a job.

I wouldn't worry, there's no shortage of nut cases

out there.

Not like this guy.

He's a headliner.

- David Laney? - Yeah.

Parcel for you.

Thanks.

My reward, I think.

At least it's not a severed head.

Thank you.

OK.

Do you think that's him?

Must be.

Some kind of self-portrait?

Energy can never be destroyed, only converted.

Well, at least he's normal in one respect.

You call that normal?

What is that?

A building of some sort?

Can you get closer?

If we can just find out where it is without losing detail.

I've seen something like that before.

Closer still?

There's only one gas works in London

like the one in the photograph.

We've got three possible addresses,

two women and this guy.

Name's Emerson.

As you can see, he's got fraud--

suspected computer fraud involving

large amounts of money.

We couldn't prove it, case was dropped.

Mark.

The picture sent to Laney was developed

at a small local chemist.

Unfortunately, they wiped the material and nobody

could give a description.

Now I have two of the assistants going through mugshots

as we speak but don't hold your breath.

Emerson's a single man, lives alone, stumbles from job

to job, no regular girl or boyfriends

as far as we can tell, all of which

fits the profile of the killer.

It's not enough.

It's enough to bring him in for questioning.

We've got a blurred picture and a hunch.

We bring him in, the press run it in a flash.

If we have to let him go, we look incompetent and desperate.

We've only got six hours left!

That's enough time to prove it's him.

Some toffees in the glove compartment.

They're a bit fluffy.

Candles.

Maybe he's religious.

So what will you do?

I thought I might go abroad, travel.

Broaden my horizons, as they say.

That sounds exciting, Michael, don't you think?

You know what I think.

I can finish my degree when I get back.

And how do you propose to pay for this,

um, what do you call it?

Sabbatical.

I mean, we'd offer to help but we've already spent all

our money on your education.

Michael, that's enough.

I need this time, Dad.

I've been studying more than half my life.

I need a break.

Fine.

You go ahead.

Emerson.

He's on the move.

I'm on him.

Can you find it in your heart to give her a lift back?

Too much to drink.

Then I'll call a cab.

Go Jimmy, come in.

Go ahead.

Can you pick up an Emily

Hawkins at 33 Grange Avenue?

That's G-R-A-N-G-E Avenue.

Fifteen minutes?

12-10.

What is it?

Trophies.

These pictures, the women murdered at the warehouse.

Human scalps.

What's wrong?

You don't want to know.

I want detailed pictures of this lot.

It's him.

Where are you?

On his backside, heading down Grange Avenue.

We're on our way.

Don't let him out of your sight!

You know what he's like.

He'll come round.

Yeah.

Bye, Dad!

You take care now.

- Hawkins? - That's right.

Where to?

University Halls of Residence.

Shit, shit, oh shit.

He's just picked up a girl.

Repeat, he's just picked up a girl.

Stop him!

He's pulling away.

Follow him!

All cars, immediate assistance!

Nice hair.

What?

- Your hair, it's nice. - Thanks.

Is it your natural color?

All mine, no additives, no preservatives.

Well, it's really nice.

If there's one thing I can't stand,

it's a woman who colors her hair.

I can never understand it.

People should be happy with what they've got, don't you think?

Never really thought about it.

Well, you see, you can tell a lot about a person

from their hair.

Well, if they dye it for example,

it tells you what they're like as people.

Well I mean, their personalities.

If you dye your hair, you're false.

You're hiding something.

Natural hair says genuine, you see, like you.

I think you're going the wrong way.

I take a look at you--

beautiful hair, natural well-kept.

I think, that's a genuine person, you see?

Excuse me, but the university's the other way.

That's someone I could spend some time with.

For your safety.

Stop this car!

Stop it right now!

He's heading out..

Shit.

I think he's on to me.

Blow the bloody engine.

He's pulled into some woods.

So follow him.

No, tell him to wait for assistance.

- There's no time. - He can't--

There's no time!

What the hell do I do?

Your call.

There's an old shack about 100 meters through the trees.

He's got her in there.

How many doors?

What?

How many doors does the shack have?

Um, I'm not sure.

I decided it was best to wait.

It's OK.

We have to go in.

We play it by the book.

We wait for assistance.

Yeah, we do that, the best we got is CJ.

At worse, another body.

We can't afford to wait.

He's not going anywhere is he?

And we scare him there's no telling what he might do.

Look, you saw his room.

What do you think, he's going to wait for us?

Creegan!

Far enough.

Put the knife down and no one will get hurt.

Oh, people will get hurt.

You know that.

She knows that.

It's just the nature of things.

It's preordained.

You kill her and there will be two

dead bodies in the ambulance.

You don't want to die, Emerson.

How would you know what I want?

I know you don't want to die.

OK, let's see if you're right.

Wrong, wrong!

Nobody knows me.

Nobody stops me!

Don't move!

You OK?

I have a dead girl on my hands.

I have every newspaper in the country outside my door

baying for blood.

But what really pisses me off is I

know exactly what happens next.

I know what happens with you.

I handled it badly.

You handled it badly and now you're

going to wallow in it, right?

I should have waited for assistance.

You should have done exactly what you did.

I had--

which was-- which was to respond to the situation

using your gut instinct.

Which is why I brought you in here in the bloody first place.

Are we finished here?

Come on, Dave.

Don't take this one on yourself.

How'd it go with Enwright?

Dave?

Still work here, if that's what you're wondering.

You don't want to talk about it, right?

Just as long as you know I offered to listen.

I didn't see it coming.

I mean, I--

I felt in control.

I felt so calm.

There was nothing you could have done.

I'm thinking, the right move, the right words.

He would have killed her anyway.

Even after she was dead, I'm thinking--

I'm standing there. I'm looking for something.

I'm looking at the blood and I'm thinking,

just go back-- just five, 10 seconds.

You'd do exactly the same thing again.

No.

I'd kill him.

I wouldn't think twice.

I played it by the book, right?

If you've got a problem with that, say it to my face.

Don't sit there bloody ignoring me.

What do you want me to say?

I want you to say nothing.

Tell us what happened?

What went wrong?

Was she alive when you got there?

I have no comment.

Was she alive?

Come on!

Come in, come on.

Pigs at feeding time.

Does that include me?

Sorry.

Want to tell me what happened?

OK, here's what I know.

You caught Emerson.

How did you get his name?

A girl, Emily Hawkins, died.

Something went wrong, right?

Emily was 20 years old, university student halfway

through a degree in biology.

OK, that's enough.

I don't want to talk about it.

I don't even want to think about it.

A year I've been following this guy.

I know everything there is to know

about him, written millions of words

on him-- mostly in your favor.

And now at the last minute I'm supposed

to scrabble about with a pack looking for scraps?

I said, that's enough.

OK, so maybe I'm pushing things a bit here.

But I don't think you realize how much I need this.

You think-- you think I can just switch off?

Make a report?

Susan.

I can't talk to you, David.

Not yet.

When I can, you'll be the first.

You have one?

Mr. Laney.

Yeah, I've had one or two-- or three or four.

I stopped counting.

Couple of those scotches, please.

So what brings you here on such a perfect night?

Let me guess, you just thought you'd visit some old friends.

I know about Emerson.

I know about the girl.

What went wrong?

You've heard the expression trigger happy?

It was the opposite of that.

Something wrong?

Oh, no, everything is just hunky dory.

Can't you shut up

for just five bloody minutes?

Daddy!

Hey, kiss me!

Mwah.

- So what is it this time? - What?

You two, go play outside.

Now!

You turn up, there's usually something wrong.

I just came to see the kids here.

And everything's fine, is it?

No work pressures, no personal crisis.

Just once, you know?

Just one time, Dave, I'd like you

to come and see the kids because you want

to, not because you need to.

I take it it's a bad time.

They're not your personal bloody sanctuary!

In the future, I'd appreciate a bloody phone call.

Nice visit.

Dave, wait.

Um, just a hard time, you know?

Yeah.

You want to tell me what's going on?

She doesn't want a kid.

It's a bit late for that, isn't it?

Last few weeks didn't sleep.

Just sits downstairs, crying.

But she never stops crying.

When she was pregnant with yours, uh--

Nothing like this.

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Barry!

You want me to talk to her?

What would you tell her?

Time is 9:10.

Present, DR Taylor, DC Rivers, interviewing

Brian Howard Emerson.

Let's not go round the house with this.

Forensics will tie you to the other murders at the warehouse,

but we know you killed them.

You know that, do you?

What we need from you--

Do you see this?

This is how much you know.

What we need from you is a signed confession

to each of the murders.

Is that your natural hair color?

Enough.

No, it's OK.

I didn't have enough respect for you to be scared.

Oh, I see some cheap nasty own brand that you

make from horse bones and fat.

I'd say you avoid the hair dressers, the company of women.

Oh, it's not your bag.

You do it yourself.

And it's all over your bathroom.

There's a lot of stains on your walls, Taylor.

We'd also like to ask you about some other missing women.

You think it matters how many have died?

How many are still to die?

How many women have you killed?

Oh, I don't keep a count.

But you keep their hair.

Only when it's natural.

You see, it doesn't matter how many have died.

All that matters is that I continue.

Oh, it's the natural course of things,

like the universe expands so must we all.

And like the universe, there's a balance between us.

We depend on one another to continue.

The dance of the planets, infinite and immortal.

Do you understand?

I didn't think you would.

Us finding the women should be part of the natural course

of things.

[inaudible] no.

Nice logic, but so incredibly human.

Well, human logic doesn't apply to me.

You see, you can lock me up.

Well, you can even kill me.

But you can never stop me.

Energy can never be destroyed, only converted.

Ah, interview terminated at 9:12.

Think we'll wait til he touches down.

I believe I'm entitled to a phone call.

No lawyer can help you now.

Nevertheless, it is my right.

I'll see to it.

Taylor?

I shouldn't be telling you this but, well,

you carry the mark of death.

Emotional terrorism.

Now that's human.

Where's Emerson?

In his cell.

Emerson's been here all night.

When was it sent?

As far as I can tell, minutes ago.

Then Emerson didn't send it.

An accomplice?

Yeah, possibly.

The service provider might have a real address.

What the hell is this?

Hey, you're good.

Laney.

What I want to know is, who blabbed to the press?

Well, story's out.

We might as well use it to our advantage.

They seem to have tagged you as some kind of hero.

Jolly.

You do a series of press interviews,

play up the angle of police heroine.

Wait a second.

Enhancing the OSC's reputation.

No way.

That's not my job.

They'll keep writing stories anyway.

Let's try and make them work for us.

I'm working on a case.

Creegan and Rivers can manage.

Charlie will brief you on the way to handle the interviews.

I thought we'd start with David Laney.

You ever thought of taking up interior design?

It's telling us something.

What?

Why another has to die soon.

Who's in charge here?

Somebody must know what's going on!

Look, I'll sit outside for for the rest of my life

if I have to!

I need to talk to someone now!

Please calm down, sir.

DI Creegan.

Michael Hawkins, Emily's father.

Can I help?

It's OK.

Let's get a coffee.

Do you need a lift?

I think I'll wait.

Sorry about your daughter.

That's an easy thing to say.

I'm not sorry.

I don't have words for how I feel.

Were you there when she died?

I want to knew what happened.

Everybody talks, nobody tells me anything.

What do you want to know?

Was she awake?

When it happened, did she--

did she suffer?

I see.

You know, that's the first time anyone's been honest with me.

The paper said something went wrong, somebody messed up.

Is that right?

Right.

You want to tell me who?

See, they say it was a madman.

Mad killer, wrong place, wrong time, all of that.

But it's not enough.

Do you understand?

There's got to be something else,

something that makes sense.

I, uh--

I'm sorry.

This isn't fair.

Thanks for being straight with me.

He wanted to know who messed up.

Couldn't tell him.

Nobody messed up.

He has a right to know.

Know what, Dave?

You did your job.

It just went wrong.

You know what I mean.

You can't take the blame for a monster like Emerson.

Don't keep your date waiting.

Hi.

I don't discuss my personal life,

my bra size, my favorite food, or my menstrual cycle, OK?

Don't want to travel, don't want to do work for charities,

and I have no desire to promote peace and understanding

throughout the world.

That about cover it?

Just about. One thing.

What?

Taste in men, blondes or brunettes?

Bald and shiny.

You're not going to believe this.

What's that?

We solved the message on DI Creegan's computer.

Emerson's warehouse.

Let's see if you're right.

Let's see if you're right.

All right, let's have a look around.

What did you get to?

I've been trying your radio.

How did you find the body?

I traced the email address to here.

Looks like Emerson left the computer

inside with a time delay.

He set it to release emails at regular intervals.

How was it triggered?

He was permitted one phone call.

We thought he phoned his lawyer.

He was hanging upside down from the rafters

with his throat cut, like the last body we found here.

Anyone know who she is?

One of the officers recognized her.

Margaret Foulds, local MP.

Hair?

Still there.

Pathologist?

On her way.

You know, you've really pissed me off.

What?

Police heroine saves the day.

What the hell was that?

It wasn't true, then?

Nah, uh-uh.

You need to be sharper than that.

How you coping?

Don't think I'm sure yet.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I feel like I've just had my legs cut off.

How come?

Losing Emerson.

Well, you'll have the trial.

Ah, not my bag--

cut and dried, no mystery.

You know something we have in common?

What?

We depend on guys like Emerson.

What makes us tick.

I thought you wanted to discuss the OSC.

Forensics have checked the computer for prints.

Emerson's?

All over it.

No sign of anybody else.

It doesn't make sense.

How come?

Because you're adamant that Foulds was killed

only two to three hours ago.

We had to cool our surveillance

on the warehouse two weeks ago.

Emerson must have been watching us.

It's his computer.

But if pathology's right, Emerson didn't kill Foulds.

Copycat.

Nobody knew about the warehouse.

Not even the press.

Has to be an accomplice.

Mary?

Foulds was found suspended upside down from the roof

but still had her hair.

One thing bothers me-- the victim's wrong.

Emerson targeted younger women.

This morning's paper.

Look here, I want a press blackout on this.

I want to know everything there is about Margaret Foulds.

Talk to Emerson, see if he knows her.

And David Laney wrote the story.

He might know something.

So tell me about Creegan.

Ah, that's out of bounds.

Off the record.

Still out of bounds.

I see.

That's not what I meant.

Yeah, right.

We've worked together.

He's good at his job.

He's a good looking guy.

Not my type.

What is your type?

You're getting personal now.

I'm not working now.

Ah, DI Creegan, the man who knows the criminal mind.

We found your computer.

As you were supposed to.

You wanted us to find it?

Well, of course.

Why?

The gravitational pull of a black hole

is so great, it sucks in everything around it.

All matter, even time can't escape.

Think about that.

Time itself, sucked into a void.

Can you even begin to imagine such power?

You haven't answered the question.

Oh, I think I have.

Who else knew about the warehouse?

Now why would you want to know that?

We know you have an accomplice.

Accomplice?

Oh, you want to know about Margaret Foulds.

Would you like me to sign a confession?

So where were we?

As far as I recall, you were avoiding

the subject of Creegan.

Look, there's nothing between me and Creegan.

You're barking up the wrong tree there.

OK.

So let's hear more about the job.

We'll see the inside story.

I want an in-depth exploration of what it's

really like in the front line.

Where do you want to start?

Oh, the most important question.

Just what is it you find so attractive about bald men?

Who told you about Margaret Foulds?

Who told you about me?

David Laney.

Your turn.

Laney?

Your personal biographer.

I don't believe you.

And I don't believe you killed Margaret Foulds.

Like you didn't believe I would kill Emily Hawkins.

I'll tell you what I believe.

I believe you're a fake.

Oh, was I faking that night?

A jumped up fake with a bag of stupid tricks.

When I slit her throat, was I faking?

Do you know your problem, Emerson?

You've started to believe your own press.

Think you're some sort of celebrity!

, Well nobody's interested any more.

You're yesterday's news.

You're wrong.

Eh, people have already forgotten your name.

Laney wouldn't let that happen.

He's already writing about somebody else.

He wouldn't do that

No?

No, he understands me.

Bull shit!

No, he believes in me.

He believes in anything that get his name on the front page.

No, he told me he believed.

You talked to Laney?

I thought I knew what to expect--

you know, when I signed up.

Told myself that this is why I joined the police.

This was a chance to do something that really counted.

Now you're not so sure?

No.

Isn't that.

I just didn't expect to see so much mess.

Our friend Emerson again.

You spend so much effort shutting down your feelings,

you forget how to start them up again.

Laney's a good journalist.

His bound to have kept the tapes.

To

You can't let yourself stop feeling.

You've got to get out there, go looking for it.

What?

Feeling, emotion, life.

It doesn't come to you.

No?

No.

So what are you doing here?

Now that's a personal question.

And the answer?

I think you already know.

It's me.

Emerson.

How are ya?

OK. Who?

I'm not sure.

Last night I took a walk to the top of a hill

and looked at the stars.

It looked all wrong, like the universe

was twisting into itself.

I saw a girl--

too pretty, but genuine.

You killed her?

It was what she required.

The women have to die.

The balance must be restored.

I know know what you mean.

Oh, you do?

Some women go too far, right?

Well, like everything in nature,

there's a balance between men and women.

Exactly.

And some women upset that balance.

You know, I really think

you're beginning to understand.

Killed another last night.

How did it feel?

Oh, like someone to save me 50 times my size.

She offered to have sex with me in exchange for her life.

I took both.

She deserved it.

Beautiful beautiful hair.

What's wrong?

I'm OK.

What is it?

Just being here with you makes me feel alive.

You know, you really have the most beautiful hair.

synch & corrected by 7kozlov - www.myfbs.ru -