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My, that takes you back,
doesn't it?

Lauren Bacall with her dress on fire.
Unforgettable.

That was of course
Bueller's theme

from "True To You
in My Fashion."

And you're listening
to Platinum FM.

Keep the change.

That was very generous,
thank you.

Here, let me give you our card.

AAAAAA Cars.

First in the phone book,
first to your destination.

Hope you enjoy Northampton.

Seems like a nice, quiet place.

Well you know what they say.

God made the country,
but he didn't make the town.

You have a good day.

How can I help?

Hello, Henry.

I'm Steve.
I'm in town to look up an old mate.

I heard he moved here
just a week or two ago.

I don't have an address.
His name's Jim Mitchum.

I know that's not much to go on.

No, you're right, it's not.

But I've worked with less

and I'm bit of a dark horse
on the old interweb, so...

Come on, Steve,
let's have a poke around,

see what we can find.

James Mitchum you say
his name is?

Yeah, Jim, James.

Jimbo we called him
back in the day.

- Bit of a character.
- Aren't we all?

Now if he's only been here
a couple of weeks

he won't show up on
any council records

but if he was drawing
benefits then...

No. Is he in a licensed trade?

Not really.
Unless ladies' man counts as a trade.

If you draw a blank, you could
point me to the local pickup spot.

Well, that's Fuseli's on
Castilian Street,

or so I'm told, you understand.

Before you go there, let me just
check hospital admissions,

just in case,
so you can rule it out.

It's not very likely, granted,

but I'm running out of places...

Oh, hang on.

Oh, dear.

I hope that's not your friend.

It says here
a James Mitchum was admitted

to the local hospital
only last night.

A&E apparently.

Might not be your friend,
name is common enough.

Which way is the hospital?

Out the way you came in,

right up Abington Street
to the top,

right again down York Road,

the hospital's at the bottom,
you can't miss it.

Thanks.

Let's hope it's a false alarm.

I'm looking for James
Mitchum, he's a patient here.

Are you a relative?

- Yes, I'm his brother.
- And your name?

Bob.

So that would be
Robert Mitchum?

- Yeah.
- Hm. Well, these records haven't been updated,

but it says he should have gone
to the Malcolm Arnold ward.

Just follow the signs.

Excuse me, I'm after a man
called Mitchum,

came in last night.

Front desk sent me to
Malcolm Arnold

but he doesn't seem to be here.

Mitchum, is that
the bearded bloke?

Got, uh, hair like a silver fox.

- That's right.
- Oh, yeah, well, obviously he never got

as far as Malcolm Arnold,

but I can take you to him
if you'd like.

- I'm heading down that way.
- If you're sure?

That will make things
much easier.

That's what we're here for.

I really like your hair,
by the way.

Thank you. You too.

Yeah, like in
the operating theater

they've got this object hidden
up near the ceiling.

So if you have
an out of body experience

and you can describe this thing,

well that will sort of
prove it, yeah?

Only I was thinking, yeah,
but what if you're,

like, condemned to hell,

then you wouldn't be going up
towards the ceiling then, would you?

So what they should do is
have something hidden

under the operating table
as well so that,

you know, they've got all
options covered.

But then there's purgatory.

I suppose purgatory would
be at eye level,

uh, spiritually speaking.

I suppose you could hide
something in a light switch.

Oh, well. Here he is.

He's dead, then?

What? You didn't...

Oh man, I'm really sorry.

I thought they'd told you.

Yeah.

I... I was on duty
when he came in.

He fell down some steps,
apparently,

at Fuseli's in town.

They tried to operate
but he died on the table.

No one knows if he had a near
death experience or not.

Near enough, I'd say.

What about his personal effects?

Did he have anything on him?

Uh, yeah.

There's his wallet.

And there's
his lovely skull ring.

I don't suppose you remember

if he had an ornate gold cross?

Red rose in the middle.

No, no, I'd have noticed that.

That's very gothic.

All I remember is the psychic
atmosphere when he came in.

Very disturbed it was,
funny things happening and that.

- Funny things?
- Well, yeah.

Coincidences and that.

There was this woman, very nice.

Um, admitted about the same time
as your brother.

Lovely blonde.

She'd hung herself.

Well, I say she'd hung herself,
it was more,

you know, the old sex games.

Anyway, turns out
her name's Faith.

And your brother,
the last words he said,

well, he wasn't
really conscious,

but as he was going into surgery
it sounded like he said,

"Where's Faith gone?"

And I was like, "Whoa."

I think sometimes people
look loveliest

when they're at peace.

Not that she's dead, mind,
but you know, next best thing.

Just seems such a waste,
a beautiful girl like that.

You can tell she was lonely,
can't you?

I find I pick up etheric
impressions of people.

If she wakes up, can you
call me on that number?

Sure, man.

You've got a good energy.

I'm sensing you might
be a healer.

Yeah, I do what I can.

Yeah.

Yeah that's what I thought.

I've got a bit of a gift myself.

I see dead people.

You work in a hospital.

Heart of Darkness Walking Tours.

Can I help you?

It's a bad time.

No, no.

We've just... we've just
lost somebody.

I knocked on your
door at random,

I heard there might be rooms
in the neighborhood.

I'll ask somewhere else.
I'm sorry for your loss.

We have a room.

There's a room empty here.

Oh my God, this is so amazing.

You mean the person who...

No, no, no.
I couldn't impose on your grief.

Oh, oh, what, you mean all this?

Well, I hardly knew him.
He only moved in a week or two ago.

I was just upset because
I didn't think

we'd be able to keep
the rent up.

Well, look,
you'd better come in.

I'm Becky, Becky Cornelius.

- Steve Lipman.
- God, I'm, like, so relieved.

It's like we just found out,
the man who lived here

had an accident and died.

I was completely gutted.

I'm doing a parapsychology
course at Nene College,

and I thought I was gonna
have to give it up,

but this is
completely wonderful.

The room's just up the top here.

What was that stuff you said about
walking tours when you came to the door?

Oh, Heart of Darkness.

They're walking tours that I do
at nights and weekends

to bring in a bit of extra cash.

I call them Heart of
Darkness Walking Tours

because Northampton's
at the heart of England,

and because it's... it's
horrible, but, you know,

like, in a good way.

How's that?

Oh. Well, I mean,
all the wars and executions

and murderers and things.

It's good if what you do
is walking tours. Um...

The bedroom's this way.

Ooh. Um.

These are just some of
James's things.

- James, that's the previous tenant...
- No, this is fine.

It doesn't look as if,
James was it?

As if James left much in the way
of the personal effects.

Bathroom's on the left.

How much did you say
the rent was?

Well, this flat is the biggest.

Is a hundred pounds
a week all right?

Look, is it okay if I give you
two weeks in advance?

Oh, that's amazing.

Oh, thank you, Steve.

Um, do you mind that
I call you Steve?

- No.
- For that, I'll pop a free Heart of Darkness booklet

under your door.

Um. So, what is it that
you do anyway?

I mean, you're not a student.

No, at least not of
parapsychology.

I'm more of a performer.

- I'm a performance artist.
- Oh.

You'll get on well with
Brendan then.

He does stand-up comedy.

But, am I right in thinking
that you're not

impressed by parapsychology?

I mean, not that you should be,
but...

I don't know much about it. It does
seem a little over-complicated to me.

I'm more inclined
toward simplicity.

I'm studying Zen, though not as
diligently as I should.

Zen?

Oh my God,
you're a dream come true.

Okay. Oh. Right. Um. Then.

I'll let you settle in.

If you need anything...

Mm-hmm.

I mean, teabags, directions,
that sort of thing.

- Mm-hmm.
- Well then, I'll see you later.

- Mm-hmm.
- Bye.

- Mm-hmm.
- Bye.

It's Fletcher Dennis.

James Mitchum is dead.

Oh, bless you, Mr. Dennis.

You don't know what
this means to an old man,

in that bleeder's...

No, Mr. Bleeker, it was
a nightclub accident.

I followed his trail from
Milton Keynes to Northampton.

That's where I am now.
He was dead before I got here.

There's no sign of
the gold cross

he stole from your daughter.

Oh.

Now that, that is not so good.

It was a family heirloom,
that was, Mr. Dennis.

I've checked his
possessions at the morgue.

Searched his room.

Get it back for me.

I'll see you get the same as
if you done Mitchum yourself.

I'll be staying here until
the job's done.

Vince, you slag.

You're me own brother and
you slept with my Sasha.

I know you did, you nonce!

I bloody know it!

Yes, Dave.

But, is knowledge
itself knowable? Eh?

If you're a Witty fan and
you've missed any of this week's episodes,

tune in tomorrow for our
omnibus.

Coming up next,
it's The Lackey.

Tickets please.

All tickets please.

He didn't just beat her,
it's bleaker.

If you had seen her
in the hospital

you'd want him fishing
with the sleepers.

Tickets please.

We both got on at
Joseph Conrad ward.

Two singles please.

You know what they say,
God made the country,

but he didn't make the town.

Tickets please.
All tickets.

- Hi.
- Oh.

Hi. Um.

Oh, Brendan, this is Steve.

He's in James's room.

All right, Steve?
Yeah, Becky said you bailed us out.

Do you want some coffee, Steve?

You're a Zen monk,
is that right?

Not really, I'm just drawn
to the philosophy.

You know, who is the one who
makes the grass green?

Oh.

Like, Monsanto.

Oh get back to your roffley
sloths and leave us alone.

It's not ROFL Sloths.

It's been shit for ages.
No, I'm on Dreamface if you must know.

What's that?

Oh, it's a social network for
people who never do anything

but only dream about it.

She's a parapsychologist.

Can't sleep for all the monsters
that aren't under her bed.

Dreamface is amazing.

There are dream labs all over
the world using its database.

Actually, I was putting up
a dream I'd had about you.

Well, if it's anything to do
with what you think sex is

then I don't want to
hear about it.

No, that... that would have
comedy value,

but no, this was just miserable.

You were all depressed and
curled up under the sink.

It's quite upsetting
to be honest.

Well, it's probably because
I was crying yesterday.

Um.

What are you up to today, Steve?

I thought I'd have
a look around.

There was an ad in
a newsagents window

I thought I'd check out.

Where's, um, Kingsley Road?

Oh, right out the door,
right again,

and then straight across
the racecourse. Um...

It wasn't an ad about pets,
was it?

It's just...

We're not allowed pets here,
you see.

No, it was an ad for detectives.

Oh.

We're not allowed
detectives either.

Yes?

I'm looking for the Michelson
and Morley detective agency.

Oh, you want Tim.

He's in the garden
with other Tim.

Come on through.

Can't miss it.

Now...

Would you like me to get you
some pop and biscuits?

No. No, I'll be fine.

Have fun. Let me know if you change
your mind about the biscuits.

They're tropical crumble creams.

Mr. Michelson and
Mr. Morley's office.

Do you have an appointment?

Uh, no, I'm afraid I don't.

Saw your advertisement.

My name's Mr. Lipman.

Mr. Michelson, sir,
this is Maxine.

I have a Mr. Lipman here
at the front office.

He says he's got no appointment.

It's a
deadbeat world, doll-face.

We don't make
appointments no more.

Send him through.

Mr. Michelson says
he'll see you now.

Took a long look at
our new client.

He was about as inconspicuous
as a werewolf at a christening.

So, Mr. Lipman.

I'm Tim.
This is other Tim.

We don't handle messy divorces

and we have to be in
bed by 9:30.

How can we help?

This is the Michelson and
Morley detective agency?

I raise my eyebrow, drunkenly.

This guy was about as smart as
a dinosaur at a christening.

So, Mr. Lipman, I'll get right
down to business.

We charge 299 a day
plus expenses,

which is mostly bus fare
and fuel rods.

They're energy drinks.

I'm sorry, I think I've made
a mistake coming here.

Better be going.

I bet you practice a lot.

What model do you use?

Is it a black mamba?

299, plus expenses, you said.

He kept putting my previous
statements to me

as a question.

He was like a psychiatrist.

Not at a christening
or anything.

Just normally.

I liked his style.

Sure, mister.
2.99 of the old simoleons.

Take it or leave it.

The solar paneling on the office
doesn't pay for itself, you know.

Well, actually, it sort of does.

Mr. Lipman, you don't
mind me saying,

he looks like a guy
with a story.

I'm looking for this.

I'm an antiques trader specializing
in religious artifacts.

This cross washed up
in your town very recently.

If you can tell me anything
about his whereabouts,

I'll see you get a bonus.

Cash.
Or energy drinks.

You decide.

My heart skipped a beat.

This was it.

I was looking at
the legendary Maltese cross.

Okay mister.

You've got yourself a deal.

Leave your contact
details with Maxine

and we'll be in touch.

Unless there's anything else
we can help you with.

Apparently there's a nightclub
in town called Fuseli's.

Could you tell me how
to get there?

I'd heard of the joint.

It was a cheap saloon full of
women and swearing.

Sure, buddy.

It's in Castilian Street,
off St Giles Street.

Looks like a castle,
you can't miss it.

Oh, Mr. Lipman.

Just before you leave,
I have a couple of last little questions.

Firstly, who's the broad?

There isn't a broad.

- There's just the cross.
- There's always a broad.

On another matter, you may have
passed a woman on your way in.

Could be she mentioned biscuits.

Was a specific
variety referred to?

Think very carefully.

I believe
the biscuits in question

were tropical crumble creams.

Thank you, Mr. Lipman.

I think that will be all.

In the meantime,
don't leave town.

Would you like to go through?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

I remember it like it was
just yesterday.

Well, it was just the day before,
I suppose, weren't it, Friday?

Yeah, we got all the students
in, all the post-mods and that.

They got one of their bands
in what they like.

I forget their name.

It's the one where that lead
chap's dressed up like Hitler.

Doesn't sound like
the sort of thing

my friend would normally
have gone for.

He must've looked out of place
amongst the younger people.

Oh yeah, yeah,
stood right out, he did.

Well, no, not really.

See, we gets all sorts in here.

That Friday, for example, we had her
that dressed up like a draft board.

Monica, I think she's called.

Yeah, she's well-known,
locally.

She's got the old,
you know, issues.

And then there's that bloke,
Conqueror. John Conqueror.

Yeah, he's in here with his
lads dealing all the drugs.

You know, his dream drops
and his special blend.

He likes to put it about that
he does the old black magic.

That's why everyone's
so afraid of him.

Well, that and the fact that
he's a merciless drug dealer

with a lot of heavies to back
him up, obviously.

Sounds like you had
quite a busy night.

Honestly, this town at
night, you could not make it up.

Well, I suppose you could.

And he was over in the crowd
when you first saw him?

Yeah.
Right here in the crowd.

Although no,
it was more over there.

Yeah, I spotted him when he was
coming through the crowd

and right off I thought ooh,
he's got an unlucky face.

Why an unlucky face?

Well just, you know,
troubled eyes.

That and the cuts and
the blood all over it.

- And the bits of pineapple.
- Pineapple?

Yeah, well that's what I
thought, but you know, don't wanna ask.

And you was standing 'round
about here when you saw him?

Yeah, absolutely.
Right here.

Although, no.

No, it's probably
more over there.

Yeah, I was stood there,
minding my own business,

watching everyone like a hawk,

when he comes
spin dancing up to me,

you know, all the dervishing?

Did you notice if he was
wearing anything around his neck?

Yeah.
Yeah, no, he had a tie on.

110 percent.
I remember that.

Although no. No, no.
That was when he came in.

After he had a dance,
he took it off

and it was hanging
from his pocket.

Now he had his collar undone
so you could see his chest.

Was he wearing any jewelry?

I'm thinking a gold cross
on a chain.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Was it a ring that was shaped like
a skull that was on his finger?

No, a gold cross on a chain
around his neck.

Oh, no then.

No. No, see, I'd remember
something like that.

Pretty sure I would.

No, I helped him over to
the wash room,

to help clean up the old fruit
pulp and bleeding.

Did you go in
the washrooms with him?

Yeah. No. No, there was
a disagreement elsewhere,

so I got off,
calmed that down,

make sure everyone's
still friends.

He must've finished up
and gone off after that.

Yeah, he was a bit unsteady
on his old pins.

Bit too much to drink.

He might have thought to go down
the stairs and outside.

Get some fresh air.

And that was that.

Okay.

If this cross turns up,

or you hear anything,

I'm gonna give you my number.

If something happens, call me.

I'll make it worth your while,
mister...

Oh, Carnaby.

- Elton Carnaby.
- Hang on.

Hello?

Hello. Mr. Mitchum?

- This is Clive.
- Clive?

Well, my vampire name
is Zorlof,

but you wouldn't know that,
you just met me yesterday.

- You're the hospital porter.
- Yeah, Clive.

Hang on one second.
I've gotta take this.

- Good to meet you, Mr. Carnaby.
- Elton.

Or Mr. Carnaby, it don't matter.

- You said there'd been a development?
- Yeah.

The girl who hung herself.

You said to ring you.

She's dead?

No.

Oh, you mean the vicar.

No, those are her mum and dad.

Turns out she was
a vicar's daughter,

but they're often the ones who
end up cold and blue lipped

on a mortuary slab,
in my experience.

But no, she came round,
about an hour ago.

I'll show you to her.

The police are with her now.

Oh, well...

After speaking to your father...

I'll come back a bit later.

...if you'll excuse us. And try not to
bother the emergency services further

with your filthy little hobbies.

We'll be on our way.

Can I get you a coffee?

- You all right?
- Who are you?

Oh, my name's Steve.

I was visiting a friend,
came in same time as you.

He died, unfortunately.

Yeah.

I asked to be notified if
you recovered.

I was concerned.

That's uh...

That's really good of you.

Just, I'm a bit...

I'm a bit confused.

I don't... I don't know what's
happened to me and I need...

Sorry.
I'm just being stupid.

I think it's best
if you leave me alone.

Oh.

Oh. Sorry.

You know, sometimes we can say
things to strangers

we wouldn't wanna
burden friends with.

No.

I just nearly did myself in
with the choking game.

Okay?

Yeah, my stupid boyfriend
called the paramedics

and it was almost too late.

Wow.

You shouldn't feel
bad about that.

- I don't feel bad.
- This is what I'm saying, you shouldn't.

It's... it's what happened to me
when I was unconscious.

I can't even...

Did somebody do
something to you?

Not physically.

I thought I was dead.

There's this horrible
working man's club.

And these two
old time comedians.

But at the same time,
they were like, God and Satan.

Oh God, this just sounds like
nothing saying it aloud,

but... being stuck there.

Dreams and illusions
are serious things.

They can enslave people.

Look, this is just a meaningless
coincidence, I'm sure,

but my friend who came in
at the same time as you...

He said your name
when he went into surgery.

He said, "Where's Faith gone?"

Well, if you
had a picture of him,

- but I don't see how...
- I've got one just here.

Breathe.

It was real.

I was dancing with him.

I was dancing with
James at that club.

I didn't tell you his
name was James.

Look,
I don't wanna sound weird, but I...

If you
need me to see you to your door,

- I'd be glad to.
- No, I wanna talk about this.

- I wanna talk.
- Can you call us a cab?

I didn't wanna pressure
you if you needed to rest.

No, I wanna go to the place
where I was dancing in my dream.

It's a real place that
I've heard of,

the St. James's End
Working Men's Club.

Hello, is that AAAAAA Cars?

Jimmy's End, eh?

I've not had anybody ask me
to take them there

for donkey's years.

Obviously I wouldn't, would I?

I'm Kate Moon, this is Yaniah,

- with BC...
- Here we are then.

It's a sorry spectacle.

Although one a blind man
would be glad of.

But... this is just
a derelict site.

Where's...

The club?
You didn't know, then?

Thought it was funny you asked
me to bring you here.

Burned down.

Was it the sixties or
the seventies?

Quite a few dead, I remember.

Okay, I think that's enough.

If you could just take us back
to the lady's flat.

Righto.

Yeah, see if that's still there.

Oh, fuck.

Sorry about the...

I'm actually a journalist.

When I'm not strangling myself.

Listen, what do you remember
about the dream?

Your experience.

It's a bit mixed up.

I don't really remember,
you know, my accident.

I just sort of woke up
at this club.

You know, the one we went to.
But it was still standing.

The name was up
over the door in lights.

And then I was inside.

There were these people.

Horrible people.

Dead people.

They kept telling me
that it was hell,

but in the dream I got the sense
that it was all an act,

like it was meant to
frighten me.

And then James, your friend,

he arrived and they made me
dance with him.

There was this horrible creature
that didn't speak.

She tried to get me into this
sort of corset thing.

And then I was on stage and
so was James, and,

and... did I tell you about
the comedy double act,

Metterton and Matchbright?

We were all on stage
and then the lights

were getting brighter and...

And then I woke up.

- Hmm.
- In the hospital.

In the shit.

Oh, I sound mental, don't I?

No. Sounds like something has
happened to you.

I'm sure more will
come back later.

You don't remember if
James was wearing

a cross around his neck, do you?

A gold cross, ornate.

What, in my dream?

No.

No but why would that matter?
It was a dream.

It was just a piece of jewelry
I associated with him.

- I just thought...
- That's not the first thing men ask

about old college friends,
about their jewelry.

You're not James's
friend any more than

you're his brother, are you?

Yeah, you said you were
a journalist, didn't you?

No, I'm not an old friend.

I'm a private investigator.

I'm sorry I lied, but the truth
scares people off.

You know what I mean.
You're a reporter...

So if you're an investigator,
what's the story with James?

- Is it adultery or what?
- No.

My company, we were approached
by an elderly man

from London's East End,
a market trader

who'd retired with
a decent sum of money.

He was... he was in a
considerable state of distress.

His daughter got entangled with
a professional womanizer,

I suppose you'd call it.
That was James.

He'd been living off
my client's daughter

and one night he'd beat
her savagely.

I went to see her
in the hospital.

She'd been tortured.

He'd left her for dead
and taken off

with whatever valuables
he could find.

Most importantly, a cross.

An heirloom from
my client's mother.

It's unlikely his
daughter will live.

I felt I had to take the case.

Like I say, I'm sorry for not
telling the truth,

even if the truth is miserable.

Yeah.

It is.

You've got my number.

Yeah.

Goodnight.

Night.

Hi. No gig tonight?

Uh, no. No.

Last gig I did on a Sunday,
it was fire bombed.

Paramilitaries. Lord's Day
Observance Society, apparently.

So, did you find those
detectives that were for sale?

Yeah, sort of.

Brendan, you must know the local
performance scene.

Is there a band where
the front man resembles,

well, he sort of
looks like, um...

Like Hitler. Yeah, yeah.
That's Herbert Sherbert.

False Awakenings.
I know him quite well actually.

He lives round the corner.
Watkin Terrace.

He's planning to annex Shakespeare
Road for the Lebensraum.

What I heard anyway.

Yeah?

Well, thanks for that.

Maybe see you in the morning.

Maybe. Goodnight.

Well these records
haven't been updated,

but your daughter's dead,
Mr. Bleeker.

I'm afraid we'll have to cover
her with very thin tissue.

Thank you.
She was all I had.

That woman...

You can't blame that on me.

You've got me all wrong.

Just follow the signs.

Just follow the signs.

Morning.

You look nice.

You going out somewhere?

Not really.

I was actually just
going back to bed.

If you're planning on
following me,

don't leave it too long,

or I'll be gone.

Hello.

Morning.

Do you want some Gamma Bursters?

No, I'm fine.
Thanks.

Oh. Hello.

You've got good hair.

- You too.
- Thank you.

Are you Herbert Sherbert?

Who else would I be?

Look,
I'm a private investigator.

I heard you were playing in
Fuseli's last Friday.

There was an incident.
I'm wondering if you...

Well, I'm actually
busy recording.

So...

Although you could come in,
you know.

Um, okay.

You could be a random detective.

Yes. Come in.

Go on.

Welcome.

What's with the blank posters?

Blank?

No, they're just hung
facing the wall.

It's more mysterious that way.

It could be
a painting by Duchamp,

or, um, that tennis woman
scratching her arse.

But then again,
I might be lying.

It could be blank.

Anyway, shush for a minute,
please!

Lights.

Don't ask me anything
until I'm set up.

Is there another name
I should call you?

I'm Herbert Sherbert.

Don't make me repeat myself.

I was just wondering what you saw that night from the stage.

- Was there a scuffle?
- A strobe light fight.

A girl in convent,
black and white.

That's Monica.

But that's not me.

No.

That was very good.

Is there
another name I should call you?

Don't make me repeat myself.

From the
stage, was there a scuffle?

I'm gonna ask you one more time.

What interests you, detective?

Don't make me repeat myself.

Look I've had enough,
but I'll be back.

You'll hear from me.

Yeah, call me.

Call me.

Call me. Call me.

- What have you been up to?
- Uh...

I've had some pretty
strange dreams.

I called in on the lead singer from
the band that were playing in Fuseli's

the night Mitchum died.

Waste of time.

The man's an absolute artist.

We're no closer to unraveling
this mystery, are we?

Well, not your
gold cross stuff anyway.

I had a bit of a poke around
about the people in my dream.

Comedy double act.

Hm. Metterton and Matchbright.

There's loads about them online.

I... I know the names, but
I can't think of their faces.

No, they were more
our parents' generation.

They started out on radio during
the war, apparently.

Met in Africa.
Part of the entertainment corp.

Late sixties jumped
on the satire bandwagon

and their personal
lives around then,

everything turned nasty.

- In what way?
- In every way, it looks like.

There was the usual talk
of backstage rows

but it was worse than that.

Matchbright's wife
killed herself,

and their daughter,
she'd come home from school

and found the body in the car.

Never got over it.

Then Frank Metterton,
he'd grown a beard

and long hair in the hippie era
and got involved with drugs.

There was a heroin busting in
the early seventies

and he had to be admitted
into psychiatric care

to get out of a prison sentence.

After all that, they were finished pretty much.

Nobody wanted to commission
new material.

There was this video,
an after-pub routine

called "Frank and Nick
Make You Sick."

But that was just the last
nail in the coffin.

Who's that?
Anyone important?

No.

No, nothing that can't
wait till later.

What happened to them?

That's the funny bit.

At least one of them lived here
in Northamptonshire back then.

Nick Matchbright.
He was born here.

Anyway, with their
career in pieces,

they decided to stage
a comeback tour.

Just around the chicken in
a basket circuit,

pubs, clubs, all that.

Then on the opening night
there was a fire,

- really terrible.
- People were hurt.

Killed. Everybody.

Metterton and Matchbright,
all the audience, the staff.

something about the fire doors.

This was in 1973 in
the late summer.

- Funny in what way?
- It's funny because the venue

was St James's End
Working Men's Club,

where I dreamt I was with James.

The place we visited last night,
the fire,

that's how it got like that.

And you can't have known
that before. Subconsciously.

Look, I didn't even know
the place had burned down,

did I, let alone what
had happened.

No, I don't suppose you did.

There are still some
hardcore fans as well.

There's one site that's been up
since the nineties.

Just see if I can find it.

It's on Angelfire.

At first, I thought
it was funny.

Like a send up.

Then when I realized it wasn't,
it's just sort of lonely.

These dead entertainers
are her whole life.

Betty Carnaby, her name is.

That's the same last name as
the doorman at Fuseli's.

Oh, I was just
thinking about you.

Well, no, I wasn't.
I was reading my men's mag, obviously.

I dunno why I said that really.

I was just passing,
thought I'd call in,

see if anything had turned up.

Incidentally, I came across a website for
two comedians, Mickelson and Matterton...

Metterton and Matchbright.

- Is that relative of yours?
- Yeah, I should say so, yeah.

It's my mum, that is, yeah.

She's mad about 'em.

No, she is actually.

It's like a mental illness.

Tragic, it's the only
word for it.

Or heartbreaking.

And then some of the things
she comes out with.

I suppose the only thing you
can do is laugh.

Swings and oranges, innit?

I suppose it is.

So the cross wasn't found,
I take it.

Uh, nobody's been in here who
was here that night,

- might remember something?
- No.

No cross, no one that came in.

No, no, nobody.
Not a single person.

Not that I can think of.

Yes, actually, now I think
about it, there was.

Yeah, she got here about
10 minutes before you did.

She's still here.
Monica. Monica Beardsley.

Or is it Monica Wearsley?

No, I swear,
it is the first one.

Yeah, Monica Beardsley.

Excuse me.

You're Monica.

Monica Beardsley.

Yeah. I know.

Yeah.

A friend of mine was
in here last Friday.

He got into some kind of fight.

Had he got like hair?

And eyes.

Yeah, that's him.

Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.

No, he didn't get in a fight.

I was just hitting him.

Why were you doing that?

Borderline personality disorder.
And he was being friendly.

- Friendly?
- With my ass.

That is my place where I sit.

He was drunk and sweaty.

Came out of the crowd.

Touched me.

So I touched him back.

I think I understand.

You used a pineapple.

That's an unusual weapon.

Not really.
Pineapple is the most brutal fruit.

It's dense, heavy,

abrasive surface, acidic juice that
would strip the enamel from your teeth.

Was he wearing any jewelry
that you noticed?

Yes, he was.

He had a ring on like a skull.

That's like the bone that you
have in your head.

Around his neck, he had a cross,

gold, 16 carat looked like,

set in the middle was a ruby
or a garnet possibly.

It's hard to tell,
lighting wasn't ideal.

Can you be certain about that?

Might you have imagined it?

Haven't got an imagination.

Thoughts, things like that's
a waste of time.

Yeah. Well, I can respect
that position.

Was that the last time you saw
him, when you were hitting him?

No.

When I was going out,
I stepped over him.

He was at the bottom of
the stairs, just twitching.

Twitching.

Still wearing the cross?

Mm, I didn't notice.

He left my ass alone,
he was brain damaged,

I wasn't that interested.

Voodoo crew were
standing around,

Baron's chaps, John Conqueror.

You could ask them.

I've heard that name.
Where do I find him?

The Eastern district,
Blackthorn.

He's usually in
the Bird and Bottle.

Monica, you've been tremendous.

You're the most observant
person I've spoken to.

I'm disturbed, I'm not stupid.

Now, you see, with the
quantum physics and all that,

here and
then a few years' time

what we will have is
a quantum computer.

That can do so many
sums at once,

it has the capacity to
simulate a universe,

right down to
the last fucking particle.

That's definite.

Bought this bloke down before
and he says to me,

"If you can do that,
then chances are

it's not the first time."

I said, "What do you mean?"

He said, "Well, it's
fucking obvious.

The greater probability is that
we are inside a simulation,

in a simulation,
in a simulation."

I said, "Do what?"

And he said,
which I'll never forget,

"We are in a series of infinitely
nested computer games."

I said, "As long as it's not
that fuckin' Escapism game."

Have you heard about that?

It's been giving
young kids mental problems.

Fuckin' shameful.

I'm looking for John Conqueror.

If it's not convenient,
Mr. Conqueror, I can...

Hm.

Mr. Conqueror.

You're the one they call
the baron, right?

My name's Steve Lipman,
I'm an antiques trader.

- I'm here in town...
- Nah, geezer.

I don't think so.

I don't think that's
a true thing.

I know you, man.

You're king death.

Death is a star, yeah?

See, you're Fletcher Dennis.

Nothing.

You evidently know who I am.
How is that?

Yeah, well, that's the obeah.

I've got second sight.

I'm well tooled up
with all that.

Got connections with the lower.

With the spirits, yeah?

The gods.

And broadband.

I'm not here to kill you.

Seen.

I'm not your type, star.

Anyway, I got your name.

And it's not like that dies with me.
You know what I mean?

Nah, we're safe.

You got respect in
certain circles, man.

Sit down.

So, to what do we owe
the pleasure?

I heard you were
still in Mexico.

No, no, actually that
was a copycat.

I'm here on another matter.

You and your men were at
Fuseli's last Friday.

There was an accident,
somebody died.

Yeah, true.

Diagonal Dan what fell
down the stairs.

That weren't us.

We was in there selling
our material, right?

We come across him
after it had happened.

He was a proper mess though.

Was he wearing a cross
around his neck?

An expensive gold cross
on a chain?

Nah, man.

If he had been,
I'd have took it.

And sounds like you and me would
currently be in negotiations, am I right?

Sorry. Can't help.

Unless there's something else.

No, I don't use drugs.

Thank you.

What is your material,
this special blend?

Ah, yeah.

Shaman blend.

It's legal work.

Salvia Divinorum and ting.

Got synthetic THC sprayed on.

So we can get it past
the dogs and into prison.

Biggest market, yeah.

And what with all
the voodoo and that,

puts fear into people.

Smoking it makes everyone
more receptive, so...

It's underneath.

You pull back the curtain.

- And there's...
- Yeah, girl.

You be easy, yeah.

You don't worry about nothing.

She's new, star.

But she's special.

Treat her careful.

I don't use those sorts of
services either.

Ah, see, now you're looking
all screw face.

Don't be like that.

Answer it.

Somebody answer the phone.

It's...

Hmm.

But you think, if we are
inside a computer game,

it's not so much whether you are
good or evil necessarily,

as long as you're not boring.

It's the boring characters
that get killed first.

Well, not in the black ones
I suppose.

Be eight pound 50.

Here, take 10.

On second thoughts,
make it nine pounds 63.

Why nine pounds 63?

More interesting.

Mm-hmm. That was good.

- What was it?
- It's tofu and leeks.

In soy sauce with wild rice from
one of Brendan's recipes.

- He's vegan.
- Trying and belong to as many

despised social
groups as possible.

I want my life to become
a Venn diagram of contempt.

So, Steve, how you
finding Northampton?

I lifted a rock and
there it was.

Well, it's pretty black,
but it's not boring.

Well, that's why I'm not doing

Heart of Lightness
walking tours.

I mean, it's weird.

The world's first parliament,
first industry,

it's where the crusade started
and the civil war wrapped up.

And we don't even get a mention
on the local weather maps.

It's like being on someone's
shit list since the Normans.

Ooh. Did you get my booklet?

Yes, thank you.
I noticed you mentioned that one of those

old time comedians
was born here.

- Something Matchbright, was it?
- Oh, Nick.

Yeah, Nicholas Matchbright.

Not one of our more celebrated
residents, but yeah.

Matchbright's partner moved down
here too, apparently.

Frank Metterton.

He lived near Rushton and
the Triangular Lodge.

He had some friends in the area,
but something happened.

I don't know,
they moved out or died.

I don't know.

I saw that thing that they did
when they were drunk.

It was rubbish.

Not comedy legends, basically.

Come on. You can't say that.

The old guys like Barry Cryer,
they all really rated them.

I mean, Barry said that
Frank could be a cunt, but,

they broke a lot of ground.

What, so now you're pulling
stand-up comedy rank on me.

Yes. Yes, I am,
you unreconstructed woman.

All right. "Frank and Nick Make
You Sick," that was unpleasant,

but that was later on.

They were both
amazing before that.

Matchbright was in that one
film, Singular Background,

where he plays his own
eight month old nephew.

It's amazing. And Metterton,
he was in a magical order,

Yeats' Stella Matutina,
in the thirties.

He ended up in a feud with
Jimmy Page and Kenneth Anger.

So yes, I'm pulling the cult rank on you as well.

Excuse me.

I suppose he was a friend
of HP Lovecraft

and your pulling
Cthulhu rank on me.

It's funny you should say that.

- Hello?
- Hello?

Is that Mr. Dennis?

How are you, Mr. Bleeker?

Well, I'll be
feeling a lot fucking better

if I got word on this cross I'm
shelling out for you to find.

I spoke today to someone who'd
seen Mitchum wearing it

down at Fuseli's.
That's a nightclub here in town.

- These things take time.
- Well, they better not take

too much fucking longer,
had they, then?

My Angelica.

Our lovely little girl.
She passed away.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Call me the minute
that fucking cross turns up.

You'll be hearing from...

So are all comedians
massive cocks

or is it just you and
this Metterton guy?

No, it's all of us.
Yeah, massive cock comedy,

that's what's filling
the stadiums now.

- Everything okay?
- Yeah, everything's fine.

It's just, you know, my agent.

Yeah,
tell me about it.

I've got the same agent as
Osama Bin Laden.

Haven't heard from him in ages.

Anyway, I've got an open spot
later on at the sad cafe

so we can leave the
washing up till then.

What's that?

Oh, I forgot. It's Monday.

That'll be the Tories culling
the elderly and infirm

over at the cricket ground.

Anyway, I'm off.

Laters, vegetaters.

Idiot.

It's Guy Fawkes night,
November fifth.

Did you know that
the gunpowder plot

was hatched here in the county?

Possibly at
the Triangular Lodge.

One of the plotter's fathers,
Thomas Tresham,

had it built when he was
under house arrest

for being Catholic, basically.

He built it with three sides to
represent the Holy Trinity.

He was a bit mad at the time.

He thought...

Oh.

I'm sorry, Steve.

I'm giving you the walking tour.

See you in the morning, Becky.
Thank you for dinner.

Oh, anytime.

Anytime I can tempt you with
a steaming entree,

I'd be glad to.

These are very
serious charges here, Miss Harrington.

Wasting police time.

Acting in a manner likely
to endanger life.

It's what's called a 9-63.

If you could come with us.

Oh, given what hour it is,

your case will be reviewed
in night court.

But... but I'm not dressed
or anything.

You should have thought of that.

Having a vicar as a father won't help you down here.

This can't be right.

The whole thing,
it was just an accident.

Miss Harrington,
we know a black accident when we spot one.

But I haven't done anything!

We'll let the court decide that.

Now what is the next case?

It's a young lady, your honor.

Although really,
she's not that young is she?

Old enough to butcher.

That's a saying, isn't it,
Patricia?

Charged with slutty clothes
and euthanasia.

Oh God. Oh God.

Counsel for the defense.

How does your client plead?

Well, she sorta goes,
"No, no, please!

This can't be happening!

Let me go and I'll do
anything you want!

Mercy!"

And then she cries for a bit and
sits there looking traumatized.

To be honest, it's a bit
of a performance.

She's a blonde, your honor.

- What do you...
- Silence in the court!

I must insist that
the defendant be restrained.

- No! No!
- Objection!

Overruled.

Now let that be a lesson to you.

The counsel for the prosecution

will now speak his mouth off.

Thank you, my lad.

Members of the jury,
let me put it to you,

she's a dirty little girl.

She dresses up in dirty clothes

and does things in the cupboard.

If I may, I'd like to give
an outline of her character

through the medium of
animal performance.

I want you to imagine,
members of the jury,

that each of these dogs is a lie
the defendant has told.

They seem sweet.

But keep shitting on the floor.

Objection, your honor.

My learned friend is turning
the courtroom into a circus.

Overstained.

Now, does the defense have
anything further to add?

Eh, no.

No, not really.

I was just messing about.

No, no further questions.

Members of the jury.

How do you find the defendant?

She's over there.

We all end up down here
sooner or later,

don't we sweetheart?

That being the case,
it is my dismal duty to enforce the law

unto its fullest and most miserable extent.

You are hereby
sentenced to be taken

from this place uncloistered,

in a mean yard open to the sky,

where you'll be finished of
your dismal outing.

And may the crows have mercy
on your sorry eyes.

And they were all there.

The woman with the dark glasses,
she was the stenographer.

And there was the clown.

Am I going mad?
Is that what this is?

I don't know, perhaps I cut off
the oxygen to my brain.

Perhaps I damaged it.

I just sat awake all night.

I was afraid to go to sleep
in case they'd be there.

Why am I dreaming about these
two shitty 1970s comedians?

Or... or that skinless woman
on her jacket.

- It doesn't make any sense...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa. Skinless woman?

The thing I told you about
with the insect noises

following her everywhere.

The back of her coat, she's got this
picture of a woman with no skin.

You can see all the muscles.

- What?
- I had this dream yesterday morning that I was awake.

That I'd already woken up
and gone downstairs

and my housemate was
behaving oddly.

On the back of her robe
was the image you describe.

The rear view of
a skinless woman's torso.

And there was this buzzing.

Are you fucking me about?

No.

Oh, Christ.

What is all this?
Is all this real?

No.

The puddle in the road is real.

This isn't real.

They don't behave
like normal dreams.

- You look terrible by the way.
- Thanks.

Been up since three AM.

I found out that
Metterton once had

a house here
in Northamptonshire.

Yeah, the one in Rushton.

Yeah, I don't know
where that is.

Oh. Oh, I thought I made
a discovery.

I found out who
the estate agents were

and picked up the keys.

It never sold because of
all the ugly stories

there were about
the pair of them.

I told them we were newlyweds.

I won't meet them.

Probably didn't need to
mention me at all.

Did I say I hadn't
had much sleep?

You know this town. Is there
somebody or something you would associate

with a stylized lightning bolt?

What, like an electrical
goods shop or what?

Like a lightning bolt icon.

No, who's it from?

Couldn't you just, you know,
trace it back?

No.

No, that's the thing.
I couldn't.

This is Mike from Semilong

who writes, "Dear Roger, good
to hear you back on the air.

You could say I've been
suffering from sleep deprivation.

Could you play "Mystery Boys" by
Huffter Talbot for my wife, Irene?"

Anything to oblige, Mike.

All the way from 1973.

That was a good year.

Here it is, served up on
a Platinum FM platter.

Platinum platter!

I'm surprised the estate agent
let us come here alone.

Said quite frankly that
we could burn it down.

I think it's been
on their books for decades.

You'd think having a famous
owner, someone would want it.

Not if he's famous for
taking loads of heroin

and getting sectioned though.

And black magic.

- What?
- Frank Metterton was a member of a magical order

in the thirties.

Brendan told me.
He's another of my housemates.

He does transvestite occult
HP Lovecraft stand-up comedy.

Sounds a bit niche.

He said Frank Metterton
was a member

of a magical group to do with
that poet, WB Yeats.

Huh. I suppose.

Black magic, poetry.

Pretty much the same.

The invocation, the evocation.

Look at all this.

At least we've learnt he was
obsessed with himself.

Ah, this is no good.

Come on, let's lock up and
get back to town.

This is Roger Sleep.

And we've got Cynthia from
Ecton Brook here on the line.

So Cynthia, tell us,
what was the nomination

for the sleep of reason?

Well,
Roger, what I find unreasonable

is the flies.
I think they're stupid things.

I can't see any need.

Even if you've got your
window halfway open,

they still fly into the glass.

And then there's how they rub
their hands together

like they're doing something
evil to a woman.

I can remember
back when I was growing up

they always used to say
that houseflies

were the souls of clergymen.

And my auntie Bitta,
she was always saying that,

you never see a fly on Sunday,
and it's true, you don't.

I tell you
what, they've never crossed one,

have they, Cynthia?

They've never hit one
with a newspaper

and heard the dirty little
voices saying prayers?

Do you know, Roger,

when I was a girl,
the vicar, Mr. Clark,

couldn't run
across the ceiling.

And that was Jean from Duston.

Oh, Jesus.

- You okay?
- I think so, yeah.

Did you fall asleep?
I should've been looking.

O... overtaking us, I thought...

I thought I saw a car,
a black car, and...

Steve, they were in it.

Matchbright and the woman,
they were in the car!

I realized I was dreaming and...

Ssh, it's okay.

- We're okay.
- No we're not okay!

Nothing's okay!

I don't know what this is. It's like
can dead people be alive in dreams?

Is that possible?
It's not, that's not possible.

I don't know anymore.

Becky?

Is everything okay?

Steve.

Oh. I didn't know what to do.

Brendan's out and...

Steve, there's a man.

A man?

Around the corner.

He's been there for hours,
just standing there.

Wait there.

Who are you?

Actually, I don't much care.
You picked the wrong day for...

Hmm.

Took a long look.

He wasn't pretty anymore.

Mr. Lipman, I believe
we had a deal.

The information
you wanted in return

for a certain
caffeinated sports drink.

Hi.

He looked about as
grateful as a robot.

On anti-robot day.

You'll find our
invoice enclosed.

Mr. Lipman,
our terms are 30 days.

Don't make us come
looking for you.

I felt used and morally weary.

Turning my lower body,
I walked into the night

as black as black shoes.

Turning my lower
body, I walked off into the night

as black as black shoes.

Oh, sorry.

This yours?

Yes, it's a painting.

It's called
the "Seven Persimmons."

So it's like a statement
about being,

something like that.

Saying that these simple
fruits are expressing

the essential qualities of
human existence.

That right?

No.

Some of this is
quite disturbing.

Disturbing in what way?

In that it contradicts the supposed
facts I've based my actions on.

This cross I've been looking for,
it isn't a family heirloom passed down

by somebody's dear old mother.

It's a famous piece of
Rosicrucian jewelry

which connects to a multiple
murder in the early seventies.

A businessman,
Charles Kitchener, his wife

and their two dinner
guests were executed

at his house in Rothwell.

The investigating officer,
DI Ricky,

he thought the cross
was incidental,

that it wasn't
the motive of the crime.

More likely it was taken by
the killer as a souvenir.

They did have a suspect,
but the cross,

the sole piece of evidence
was never recovered,

so he was never charged.

Who's the suspect?

An original growth
Hackney gangster

who worked his way up
in the sixties.

Mr. Patrick Edward Bleeker,
known as Patsy.

He is the bereaved old man who
wanted me to find James Mitchum.

Seems he didn't earn his fortune

in the vegetable
trade after all.

Though it says a lot of
his associates

did end up as vegetables.

Who's the woman?

Angelica Divine. She was lucky enough
to become the second Mrs. Bleeker.

She died in the early hours of
yesterday morning, so I'm told.

She's the woman Bleeker
told me was his daughter,

just like he said James
was the one who brutalized her.

Angie Bleeker,
Bleeker's trophy wife.

How did James Mitchum
end up with this cross?

How about this. Angie Bleeker's
looking for a lover, a daddy type.

For James Mitchum, it must've seemed
as if his ship had finally come in.

Perhaps they began a long-term
clandestine relationship.

Anyway, Angie comes up with a
plan for them to escape together.

She'd have wanted
some insurance.

She knows about the murders
in the seventies.

She knows about the cross.

She knows it's evidence
that will send

Bleeker down for life.

She gives the cross to
James and she goes

on her own to tell Bleeker
she's leaving him.

She reasons he won't
dare touch her

with the threat of them
going to the police.

Only she's drastically
misjudged his response.

James finds out somehow
what's happened.

Understands who he's been
shagging all this time,

so he takes off, escapes to
the arse end of nowhere

which just happens to
be Northampton.

Except, how does
he get from there

to dancing with me
in my coma dream,

inside a club that burned
down 40 years ago,

run by two dead comedians?

Yeah. I dunno.

This folder.

I don't know who gave it to you.

He was some sort of detective.

Yeah. Yeah, broadly speaking.

That normal then?

Private investigators hiring
other private investigators

to do their private
investigation for them?

Is it like, I don't know,
modern British artists

paying someone else to make
the actual stuff?

And what about this seasoned
gangster with a massive secret?

What the fuck would he be doing
hiring an investigator

in the first place?

Yeah.

Well I'm not really a private
investigator, am I?

Evidently not.

You're not James Mitchum's brother,
like you told the hospital.

You're not his friend,
like you told me.

- You're not...
- An antiques trader, yeah, I know.

Antiques trader?

You never even told me that one.
That must've been someone else.

You told the estate agent
we were married.

Well, I'm screaming at you
and not getting any sex,

we might as well be.

Are you even anything?

Isn't Zen Buddhism,
isn't that all about like

dispensing with like deception
and illusion?

Yeah. Yeah, actually you're
right about that.

And here you are,
man of a thousand fucking faces.

Look, if I don't get the truth this
time, the 100 percent truth,

I'm walking out that door.

I mean it, Steve.

If Steve's even your real name.

My real name's Fletcher Dennis.

God, for fuck's sake,
I was joking.

So what do you do when you're not performing,
trading antiques, investigating,

swapping college anecdotes or being,
I don't know, related to somebody?

And don't say this or that.

Everything all right up there?

Everything's fine, thank you.

Look, sometimes there
are people who...

According to my value system...

Okay.

Some people continually
subject others to harm,

distress and even executions.

And what I do
is I find those people

and I stop them doing
what they're doing,

for an agreed fee.

You're a hit man?

We prefer exit technician.

You can't be fucking serious.

If I was gonna tell you another
lie to keep you on side,

is that the one I'd choose?

You actually
kill people for a living.

I should get away from you.
And from all of this.

I should get as
far away as possible.

I'm not sure handling our own
problems separately

is the best option.

I'm stuck between an East End
villain on the one hand,

and a... a troupe of light
entertainment ghouls

and specters on the other.

And the one person that
I've got on my side,

the one person that I'm supposed
to put my trust in

is a morally
discriminating hit man!

- Well, we prefer exit...
- Is a morally discriminating exit technician.

Hmm.

Fuck.

If you want, I can sit up beside
the bed and keep watch.

If it looks like
you're distressed

or even if you look like
you're dreaming,

I can wake you.

And you'd do that, would you?

You'd stay up all night and
watch me sleep.

Yeah.

And not exit me.

Hmm.

♪ Me and my friend Mr. Moon ♪

♪ People say we make
a perfect pair ♪

♪ Even when we're out of tune ♪

♪ We're so debonair they
just don't care ♪

♪ Me and my friend Mr. Moon ♪

♪ We're so very
versatile besides ♪

♪ He can shine while
I can croon ♪

♪ I can strum while
he directs the tides ♪

♪ Why can't those Russians
and Americans ♪

♪ Just all agree that
he stays with me ♪

Hi.

It's underneath.

You pull back the curtain.

Answer it.

Somebody answer the phone.

You look as if you're new.

How can I help?

Where am I?
Is this...

Is this
the St. James's End Club?

I didn't know
this was still here.

Yes you did.

Excuse me.

I think I'm dreaming.

Oh, I know. Always best, aren't they,
the ones you don't wake up from.

Now, what can I get you?

I don't drink.

Just a glass of smoke then.

You seen the fuss in
the papers about the unions?

Ain't it real, eh?

No, the puddle
in the road is real.

This is not real.

- What do I owe you?
- No charge, darling.

This one's courtesy of
Mr. Matchbright over there.

He's one of the proprietors.

Glad you could join us, Bob.

Or was it Steve?

Steve, was it?

It's not often we get
the quality down here.

I'm Nicky Matchbright.

Someone said your film
was very good.

Singular Background.

Oh, well we must always pay
attention to the background,

shouldn't we, Bob?

I mean, I always say that
it's just foreground

or something to hide.

And as for singular, well,

you strike me as a bit
singular yourself, Bob.

Steve.

Or was it Fletcher?

Yeah.

You are a bit of a singularity,
that's you all right.

- I don't know what you mean.
- Don't give me that.

You're a singularity all right.
You got the eyes for it.

The light goes into 'em but it
don't come out again, Bob,

am I right?

You're not missing any signals,

what with your tremendous
fucking gravity.

I'm not sure I follow you.

Look, Steve. The only reason
anyone suspects that you exist

is because that's what
the mathematics point to.

You're like a big hole and no one
knows you're there until they fall in.

Only thing that gives you away
is all the devastation

out at your perimeter.

All them post-mortem x-rays when
you've swallowed somebody.

The only way we know about all
them dead stars inside you

is the quantum ripples
on your forehead, son.

Yeah. You've caused
a few fires to be put out

before their proper time
and don't you know it.

Oh my word, yes.

This is not
a recognizable dream.

Something about
the texture of it.

Am I in another bardo?

There will never be
another bardo, son.

Oh dear, oh dear me,
I do apologize.

It's the smoke.
It gets down me.

I've been this way
since a spot of bother.

A black accident.

You know, from the moment
you walked in,

I thought, fuck me,
we've got a live one here,

and no mistake.

From the moment you walked in.

You tell him, Jessie.

It was Jessie, wasn't it?

It's not Frank,
I know that much.

James.

I'm James.

Yeah, course you are.

You're James Mitchum.

Oh God.

You're working for Bleeker.

Are you gonna kill me?

No, things have changed.

I've been looking for you.

What?

And what have you come as?

You're Frank Metterton.

Oh, that's very gratifying that
the little people still remember.

But, where are my manners?

Please, please do come in
and have a seat.

How?

How are you working all this?

Oh, you know, paste diamonds,
props, knicker elastic.

Smoke and mirrors.

But you're dead.

You and your partner,
you died in a fire.

Well, yes.

That's where we got the smoke.

And yet you're alive in dreams.

Ah, now we're getting to it,
aren't we?

Ghastly old dead entertainers,
still alive in culture.

Still alive in dream time, eh?

As if there were the slightest
bit of fucking difference.

So this is magic then.

You've done all this with magic.

Oh yes, I remember very clearly,

every last bit done
with sorcery.

Or was that poetry?

They're two old friends
of mine, and,

with advancing years,
I have increasing difficulty

telling them apart.

Both rather highly strung and
nobody believes in either of them.

Actually, that suits
my purposes.

I mean, I don't suppose the
Japanese believed in A bombs,

did they?

And your purposes?

You have designs?

Some sort of an agenda.

An agenda?
Fuck me, I sincerely hope not.

Sounds like a board meeting
at a mattress company.

No. No, what I've got
is a plot, much better.

Good old fashioned word,
gunpowder plot.

Never hear about
the gunpowder agenda, do you?

Although, Guy Fawkes, frankly,

the man couldn't plot
to save his life.

It was more like a modern film.

All big explosions and
no plot beyond that.

Hopeless.

That girl, Faith, why are
you hurting her?

Oh, as I recall,
she rather hurts herself,

that woman, doesn't she?

It's really nothing personal.

She's just coma blonde,
that's all.

One of my dramatis personae.

She's the one who has to visit
this establishment

and then to wake up and
tell everyone we're here.

It's part of my plot.

Or my agenda, if you're going to
be all corporate about it.

- And Mitchum.
- Dog food in a suit.

Bait, basically.

He's only here to rope
the next one in.

It's like a relay race,
except I've rigged the finish.

The next one.

Who's the next one?

That's you, Mr. Dennis.

That's you.

And here you are.

It's a most unenviable position.

Caught between a ruthless
psychopathic monster on the one hand.

And, I suppose,

a violent fruit and veg man
with a bad foot on the other.

How is Mr. Bleeker, by the way?

You know Bleeker?

How do you...

We've never met.

I was more chums with
Anne and Charlie Kitchener,

who were, I believe,
briefly acquainted with him.

Murderer of a friend,
that kind of thing.

We're not close.

Basically, we share
a mental difficulty

and a taste in jewelry
and that's it.

Hm.

You haven't noticed it yet,
have you?

That's not...

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.

That's not the real thing.

That's a dream.

Oh, yes, you're perfectly right,

but I know
where the real thing is.

It's in my keeping,
shall we say.

It genuinely is quite beautiful.

Bare, apt the heavy heart.

At the center of the four
directions, the four elements.

is a blood red rose.

Although, I suspect you're not
really the Rosicrucian type.

You're more the three rocks and a
tray of sand sort, I'd have thought.

Zen Buddhism.

Trees falling unobserved
and amputees applauding.

I mean, it's a bit
peculiar isn't it?

I am the Zen archer.

I'm sworn to the elimination
of all falsehood.

All illusion.

Oh, dear.

Oh dear, we can't have that.

And I'd so hoped

that you and I were
going to get on

and be pals.

What are we gonna do?

With the nightmares,
I'm not sure there's anything we can do.

With Bleeker, that's something
I have to do alone.

He's dangerous.

Well so am I.

Mm. Really?

Look, you can't just
leave me out of it.

I'm already involved.

If... if you end up in trouble
with this Bleeker man,

all those ghouls will
just be after me.

I'll end up
on a slab with James.

I'm not sure Metterton was that
interested in you.

He didn't even refer
to you by name.

He called you coma blonde.

- What, like a bit part?
- Yeah.

- What a prick!
- He wasn't particularly interested in me either.

The one name he seemed to
give a toss about was Bleeker.

So it's possible that Bleeker
was the point of all this?

Metterton has the cross
by some means.

Metterton wants Bleeker.
Bleeker wants the cross.

So in that case...

Well, if they're
swinging at each other

can't... can't we just duck
or something?

Yes, for that to work, Bleeker would
have to know the cross had been found,

in which case
I'd have to tell him.

After which he'd...

Mmm. What would he do?

Send somebody to get you.

Sending somebody else was
the mistake he made with me.

Besides, I don't think there's
anyone in the field who'd...

You were gonna say that there
was no one in the field

that he could send to get you,
weren't you?

Is that because there aren't
any more exit technicians

or because you know that
no one would take the job?

That one. The second.

There might be a way we could
arrange some sort of introduction.

It wouldn't exactly be safe,
but if we could make it work,

we'd kill two birds
with one stone.

Not literally, of course.

Well, obviously not literally.

These days who kills
things with stones?

I think we're in business.

There we go.

Don't even know what it's
supposed to be.

You say the first
thing that comes in your mouth.

I mean, in your case I suppose that
would be Uncle Gerald, wouldn't it?

Don't you start on
my Uncle Gerald,

he was like a father to me.

It's the colors,
isn't it?

The orange and the blue,
how they vibrate against each other.

Is it saying like that
that's the real experience?

It's not about persimmons or all the
mental associations that we make with them,

it's just about the different
frequencies of light,

how they excite our retinas.

Is that it? Something like that?

No. It'd be better if you
didn't talk for a moment.

I've gotta make these two calls,
then we can go out.

- Mr. Bleeker.
- Who's that?

Is that Dennis?

I was just a-fucking-bout
to call you, wasn't I?

You better have some fucking
good news for me or...

The good news is I know
where the cross is.

I was looking at it
just last night.

You was? Fuck me.

Mr. Dennis, that is the best news
what I've heard all year. Fucking...

The bad news is I know
about Charles Kitchener,

Anne Kitchener,
their dinner guests and you,

you and your late wife Angelica.

Sorry, your late daughter.

My late...
What's this?

What's all this about?

- You better...
- You knew my terms and conditions,

Mr. Bleeker. It turns out
you're in breach of contract.

Breach? You little...

Mr. Bleeker, we no longer have
an understanding.

I'm afraid the cross is forfeit.

I'm not sure
what I shall do with it.

It's not really to my taste.

Selling it would be difficult
given its reputation.

Possibly the easiest thing would
be to pass it on to the police.

I'll fucking find
your fucking mum!

I'll fuck her up the shitter
with a shotgun!

Goodnight, Mr. Bleeker.

He sounds lovely.

Hang on.

Who're you calling now?

Thank you very much.

You have a nice night.

- You too.
- All right.

You know what to do?

We're a bit early, aren't we?
It's not nine o'clock.

No, we're only 60 miles
from London,

Bleeker could be
within the hour.

And if we aren't prepared,
nobody's gonna settle

for best out of three.

And you're sure he's gonna come here
and that he's gonna come tonight?

It's the only place
he knows I've visited.

The only place
I've mentioned by name.

He'll be here tonight
because he thinks I'll be

in Beijing or somewhere
by tomorrow morning.

Look, Faith, you don't have to
put yourself at risk.

- I can...
- No, actually I do.

Honestly, I will be fine.

As long as you're being
straight with me this time.

You can trust me.

All right then.

Excuse me, miss.

Yeah?
What do you want?

There was somebody me and
my mates were looking for.

We know he's been in here, like.

We wondered if you'd seen him.

Well, I don't know.

What does he look like?

Well, he's white, little bloke.

Well, he's not big like I am.

He's got this great
bush of hair like,

sticking up all over the place.

Yeah. Yeah, come to think of it,

I do remember seeing
someone like that.

He had a stripy shirt on.
Red and black.

Yeah, yeah, I spoke to him.

That's brilliant, darlin'.

She says she's seen him,
Mr. Bleeker.

- Says she's talked to him.
- Yeah?

Well that's fuckin' blindin',
my girl, fuckin' blindin'.

Funny fuckin' little fuckin'
place.

So you've seen him then,
our wooly mate.

Talked to him.

Isn't that what Brinsley
was just saying?

We didn't talk long.

He was, you know,
he was trying to chat me up.

Yeah?

Yeah I can see how
he might do that, yeah. Eh?

So what did he say to you,
the little fuckin' cunt wipe?

He... you know, you asked me
back to his place.

Um, the St. James's End
Working Men's Club.

I... I just told him to fuck off.

Very wise, my girl.

Very fuckin' wise indeed.

You have been a great help.

Have a lovely fuckin' evening,
won't you?

That was a bit fuckin' easy,
weren't it?

I've got nothing to do with this.
I don't know who you are!

That may be so, my girl,
may well be so.

Now, behave yourself,
get in the motor,

or you won't be having any
normal fuckin' babies.

Put it that way.

Look, please.
Why don't you let me go?

There's no one here.
He never said he lived here,

he just said it was near here.

Nah, this is just the sort
of place he'd pick,

the shifty little cunt.

All blind spots and cover.

Come on!

If I were you,
I'd save me energy

for trying not to
witness anything

and keep me spunk hole shut.

Never should have trusted him,
the old quiffed little cunt.

Mr. Bleeker.

I see you found yourself
a new school girl bride.

You think this piece of minge
is my missus, do ya?

Well, I've got my gun
up her arse.

Not very matrimonial, is it?

Judging by your last wife,

I'd say it's fairly
representative.

Oh yeah!

You're a funny cunt, no mistake.

Listen, Mr. fucking Dennis.

She's not mine.

I brought her along here
because I thought

she might be yours.

Look, if she's somebody
you've just dragged along

for the hell of it, you're gonna
have to let her go

before we can negotiate
about the cross.

Like two professionals.

After him!

What's that?
Did you get the fucker?

All right Mr. Bleeker,
I'm just looking.

There's blood, Mr. Bleeker.

Oh, fuckin' sweet as, Brinsley,
fuckin' sweet as.

Just make sure you
finish him off.

The fuckin' Ninja twat.

Nah, on second fuckin' thoughts,

keep him alive for preference.

Then I can chop bits off

till he spits out
my fucking cross.

I'm counting on you lads.

Brinsley?

Brinsley?

Dave?

Dave?

Oh, fuck.

They're dead, Mr. Bleeker.

Yeah, I know.

I know they're fuckin' dead.

Now you fuckin' come out here.

I told you already,
first let the bystander go,

then we can talk
about the cross.

You think I'm fuckin' soft!

Eh? Huh?

Even if she ain't one of yours,

you've got the old scout's
fuckin' honor, ain't ya? Eh?

You've got your code.

So I had to come
the helpless fuckin' cripple.

You don't want her hurt,
even if you don't know her

from our fuckin' cat.

This thing about the code,

it's more of just
a memorable affectation.

Like the haircut.

Or my weaponry.

Or Zen Buddhism.

All of these things,
they're variables.

They can be dropped and
changed depending on

what the performance calls for.

Execute her if you like.

I'm really not bothered.

Oh, you fuckin' lying bastard!

I knew it!

This bubba yours, is it?

Or just some silly fuckin'
cow you're using

to try to get to me?

Now come out now with
that fucking cross

or on my fuckin' life I'll blow
whatever brains she's fucking got

all over this fuckin' yard.

On my fuckin' life.

I fuckin' trusted you!

I'm not joking.

Out now or
down she fuckin' goes!

You told me all those
fucking lies

and even then I still
fucking believed you!

Come on.

Where's Faith gone?

Right.

I fuckin' warned you.

Don't you ever say I didn't
fuckin' warn you.

On your fuckin' knees!

Come on. You all right?

You know I didn't
mean what I said.

Yeah well I fucking did.

- Wait, are you bleeding?
- Yeah, a bit.

I got shot in the leg.

Hang on. Um.

Wait, I didn't hear
your gun fire.

I suppose you have
silencers or something.

I don't use a gun.

How did you...

That's how you were
defending me?

Yeah.

What are you, like 12?

It's underrated as
a working instrument.

Yeah, well, he underrated it.

Oh, I'm not gonna look at him.

A fucking catapult.

How did you even aim?
It's pitch dark.

Light wouldn't be much use.

I have my eyes closed
when I fire.

So down in front of the old bus
station in a couple of a minutes.

Okay, great, thanks.

Yeah, bye.

Whoa, wait.

So you'll be off now then?

Beijing or somewhere,
like you said.

Now this is done.

I don't know.

I don't know that this is done.

Had a bit of trouble
recently in Mexico.

Might not be a bad time
to drop out, lay low.

Might stick around here
a little longer.

What do you mean
this isn't done?

If Bleeker is the one they
wanted, then I don't...

Faith. We know about them
down there in their club.

We don't know what they're doing,
far less why they're doing it,

but still, we know,
we're loose ends.

No one likes a loose end.

Come on.

What's this?

What's all this then?

I'm not...

How the fuck did I end up here?

Fuckin'...

You're...

Fuck.

You're him.

Him off the telly.

You were supposed to be
at that party.

You were who I went there for.

But you...

Am I...

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck me.

No.

Patsy.

You're just in time.

The show's not really
started yet and...

we've saved you
the best seat in the house.

The Northampton
Development Corporation there

with
"60 Miles By Road or Rail."

And yes,
that was a real thing.

You're listening to
Roger Sleep

and bringing us up to
the witching hour,

who better than
Mr. Vince Shannon

with the immortal
"Queen of Midnight."

Take it away, Vince.

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