All language subtitles for The_Bletchley_Circle.1x03.720p_HDTV_x264-FoV.UK-English

It's over now.

- We've got him.
- What?

Strangled.
They found her

in the storm drain
near the gas works.

Oh, good Lord. I
think I found one, too.

- Well, what if we...
- Give him

- what he's looking for?
- My God.

It's the smell that
was in the cellar.

- What's this?
- She means be bait.

- Get off!
- Lucy!

You're all right?

So you're lost track of time?

- Liar.
- For the first time,

I don't believe you.

You're going to have to take a deep
breath and tell me what I need to know.

Who did you work
for at Electra House?

Mr. Cavendish?

There was a man.

He was buried
in the rubble under a stairwell.

There was a girl in there, too.

- But she was dead.
- Malcolm Crowley.

You will be back in time for this?

Yes, of course.

- Harry, please. It's...
- You're not going back to him.

You stay here with me.

The Meredith's not far from here.
Why don't you go?

You're sure?

- What name was it?
- Malcolm Crowley.

I think you better come inside,
Mrs. Gray.

- This way, please.
- Thank you.

Why are they shutting you down?

Well, they're not really,
just this building.

Everything's being
moved to new premises.

- You're still here.
- I'm nearly finished.

Moving the people and the machines
is the easy part, believe me.

Moving the files and the records
is a whole different story.

But I'm getting there.

It's upstairs.

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The Bletchley Circle
Part 3

I'm looking for a patient of
Dr. Tremaine's from the war.

Perhaps if you tell me what
it's in connection with?

It's a bit complicated.

Everything in my line
of work is complicated.

John used to say that
to the trained mind,

complexity is a
delight, not a burden.

- You knew him well?
- Oh, yes,

we worked together for several
years before he retired.

He's retired?

You don't happen to
know where he is, do you?

I think... let me see. I know
he went on a tour of Europe.

But then... I'm sorry,
I'm just not sure.

I haven't heard from him in quite a
while.

Here we are.
This is me.

So, who was it you
were looking for again?

- Malcolm Crowley.
- Malcolm Crowley?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

He was an interesting case.

Quite a delight of
complexity, believe me.

You saw him?
I mean...

professionally?

I helped to assess him when
he was referred to us. But...

If I remember rightly,
wasn't he killed?

Mr. Croft, if you
assessed him, you must know

there was something wrong with him.

Is this something to do with
what happened to him in the war?

I can't go into details.

You do realise that...

since I treated Mr. Crowley,

I had to sign the
Official Secrets Act.

In fact,

I was in the position of
treating a good number of people

serving in delicate positions during
the war.

So whatever is on your mind, you CAN
tell me.

I think that he's very dangerous.

Sorry, I mean, I
think he's still alive.

You're SOE, then?

Bletchley Park.

Bletchley?

- That was very hush-hush.
- Yes.

Wasn't it all
statistics and numbers?

Yes, something like that.

And how did statistics and
numbers lead you here, Mrs. Gray?

I just saw a pattern and...

I followed it.

You're not working for anyone, are
you?

No.

You did this all on your own.

Astonishing.

"Umbras erat illa recentes inter et

" incessit passu de vulnere tardo."

I'm sorry?

"From among the shades of the recent
dead she came."

Is something wrong?

No.

I really must be going.

My husband's outside in the car.

I said I'd be ten minutes.

Of course. I'll see what
I can find in the files.

And don't worry.

I'll be in touch.

- Susan, what is it?
- I think it was him.

- What?
- Crowley's at the hospital.

- Anything?
- Nothing.

- There's no one here, miss.
- No. What about upstairs?

All right.

It's all gone.

We've been through the
whole building. Now...

the man you said stole your bag,

- he certainly came in here?
- Yes.

In the front door, out
the back, most like.

Sorry, miss, he's long gone.

Where on earth have you been?

The one night a year I
absolutely need to rely on you.

William Smith gave his
life for me and my men.

I know.

If he hadn't thrown
himself on that grenade,

I wouldn't be here. There'd
be no Claire, no Sam.

The least we can do is

honour the man's
memory once a year.

What...

- What's happened?
- I...

It's fine, I was...

Gosh, I was...

It was the silliest thing. I was...

..coming out from visiting Lucy and
I slipped on the steps and I just...

I really am so sorry about
missing the memorial dinner.

So am I.

This has to stop, you know.

Whatever this is.

You're my wife.

But above that...

you're a mother.

That has to come first.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

Well... you're a state.

Come on.

Let's get a wet
flannel on that ankle.

Harry?

Hurry up, will you?
Come on.

Open your eyes.

- Is this for me?
- Housewarming present.

This is your home now.

Thank you.

Jean, you terror!

It's damson gin.

I make it myself.

Just a wee tot, it's strong.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

- How are you feeling?
- Fine.

- Steady your nerves.
- Thank you, Jean.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Why was he even there?

Why hide out in the hospital
that treated you during the war?

Well, he'd know the Meredith

specialised in
psychiatric disorders.

So he's interested in
psychiatric patients?

Same as all the men he set up.

Like Gerald Wiggins, Marco Giacommi,
Terry Hudson.

They all had mental disorders.

Oh, my God, she's right.

Wiggins had shrapnel
in his head, didn't he?

He has to find the right
candidate to pin the crime on.

Not intelligent, articulate people

who can mount a proper defence.

- People with mental problems.
- Where does he find people like that?

In the medical records
of a mental health hospital.

He just had to leaf
through the files.

They were all over
the country, though.

Yeah, but those
cases would have been

too specialised for
a local GP to handled.

They would've been referred
to somewhere like the Meredith.

So it was Crowley.

You're lucky to be alive.

- Mrs. Gray.
- I met your dead friend yesterday.

Quite a lot shorter
than you, fair hair

ring any bells?

Yes, that's him.

I was sat opposite him.
He was this close to me.

The police won't listen.

I need you to help
me find him again.

I want his personnel file -

not just the bits you're
happy to show me, everything.

- I haven't got it.
- But you can get it?

How would it ever help?

At Bletchley, when we
came across corrupted data,

we had to backtrack
till we hit clean code.

That's how you find an
error in the pattern.

All Crowley's giving us is corrupted
data.

We need to backtrack to
before he was killing.

We need to start from there.
That's how we'll find him.

I want the file. Can you get it?

Perhaps.

There's more.
I...

I need to know what's not in the
file.

What do you mean?

Well, what it is that you're
so reluctant to tell me.

What did you do, you and
Crowley, at Electra House?

Susan, do you know what
psychological warfare means?

No.

It means sapping
the enemy's morale,

working on his weaknesses...

his conscience...

his base fears...

..and drives.

These images were designed
to be provocative...

..titillating.

But the messages that
went with the images

were intended to demoralise.

Like these, they
were crude suggestions

that what was on the postcard might
be what was happening to your...

wife or daughter back home
while you were fighting.

That was the principle, anyway.

And Crowley worked on these?

Yes, he had a talent for it.

Some of the men
were too embarrassed

to throw themselves into
the work but not him.

After the bombing incident...

..his pictures changed.

We couldn't use them, they were too
extreme.

It wasn't our finest hour.

They've muddled up our
paper, this is the Telegraph.

Lunch is ready, can you carve?

Of course.

I'm thinking of taking the
children to the lido this afternoon,

give you some time to yourself.

You can try your hand at the
Telegraph crossword for once.

It's a lovely idea.

- Did you do this?
- What?

The crossword -
someone's filled it in.

You've still got two,
three and six down.

Perhaps that paperboy
is playing a joke.

Daddy's taking us swimming.

I know.

I'm gonna dive off the board.

Mummy?

Is something wrong?

No.

No, of course not.

I just feel a little
bit funny today.

Hello?

Mr. Cavendish?

- Hello?
- Millie,

it's Cavendish.

Quickly, we haven't long
before the police arrive.

- What happened?
- He's dead.

How?

It looks like suicide.

You think Crowley did it?

I just don't think he's the
kind of man to kill himself.

- Why now?
- That's obvious, isn't it?

Cavendish was trying
to find Crowley.

Maybe he did, somehow.

Personnel file?

- We need to go and look.
- Right.

I can't.

I'm sorry, I can't do that again.

- Lucy, we need...
- No, when we went into that cellar

- saw Mary Lawrence...
- I know it was awful...

No, you don't know.
Because I still see it.

I see it every night
when I close my eyes,

I see every part of
it, every detail of it.

All right.

You don't have to.

Oh, crikey!

Look over here.

The files from Electra House.

Where's Crowley's?

It's not here, it's gone.
He must have taken it.

What's this?

These are a bit racier than the
end of the pier, aren't they?

It's not what you think.

They're part of what he was doing
during the war.

He was ashamed of them, actually.

In fact, he wouldn't have had them
out unless...

- Unless what?
- Unless he realised

they were important.

- How are you feeling?
- I'm fine.

So, he found something, something
in Crowley's personnel file.

- Like what?
- We won't know, Crowley's taken it.

Important enough to kill for.

Jean, do they keep
duplicates of these files?

No. Classified.

Master copy only.
If it's gone, it's gone.

- Maybe it's for the best.
- What?

Susan, Mr. Cavendish is dead.

If what you say is true,

Crowley killed him because
he was getting too close.

When we first started, it was
strangers in the newspapers.

But every step we
get closer to Crowley,

he gets closer to us.

He knows where you
live, for God's sake!

Mr. Cavendish was an
officer in the war.

You're just a girl.

Millie?

She's right.

What about your children?

Fine.

So what do we do now?

Take it to Deputy Commissioner
Wainwright.

And hope he listens.

Please can we go now?

You met a man who you
believe is the real killer?

Malcolm Crowley, yes.

And that's the man you
believe killed Mr. Cavendish?

Oh, yes.

But you have no proof
of either accusation

and you have no idea
where Malcolm Crowley is?

Mrs. Gray, I don't think
you realise what I'm seeing

from my side of the desk.

I'm sorry?

We have a man in
custody thanks to you.

And all the evidence in
the world to convict him.

The killings have stopped.

But you're still running around,

talking about a
phantom no one has seen,

stirring up the past.

And now a man has taken his own life
as a result.

No... no Mr. Cavendish was murdered.

You have no proof of that.

All you have is conjecture...
imagination... theories.

Theories that are disrupting
proper police work.

Now, we're grateful to
you for your help but...

..this case is solved.

It's over.

I have a responsibility
here, Mrs. Gray,

not only to bringing the right man
to justice

but also to you and
to Timothy as well.

I'm quite certain he has no
idea what you've been doing,

any more than he knows
what you did in the war.

But if you're intent
on pursuing this...

this mistake...

..then I'm afraid there
will have to be consequences.

Do you understand?

Goodbye, Mrs. Gray.

Give my regards to Timothy.

Can't you sleep?

He's convinced
Cavendish killed himself.

He told me to stop or he'd
tell Timothy everything.

What happens if we do stop?

All that's necessary
for evil to triumph

is for good men to do nothing.

Or good women.

All right.

Where do we start?

With these.

I'm sure Cavendish had
these out for a reason.

They were supposed
to be provocative.

What are the messages?

"German soldiers, while
you're fighting and dying,

"who do you think is
screwing your girlfriends?"

These are different.
This is what you need to see.

No one in their right mind
is gonna find these erotic.

Cavendish said that after the bomb,

what Crowley produced changed.

- These are Crowley's?
- Oh, yes.

- They're the same girl.
- Exactly.

If he drew these after the bomb,

after he was trapped in the rubble,

buried alive...

..then this has to be the girl
who was down there with him.

What if he became...

I don't know, obsessed, fixated?

She was the first dead girl,
underground in the dark.

This has to lead to Crowley.
We need to know who she was.

The source of his obsession
could lead us to him.

I'm sorry.
I really am.

Mr. Cavendish was a...

kind person.

And a brave man.

You can help us find who did this.

- How?
- There was a girl.

She was killed...

when the SOE Records
Office was bombed in 1944.

We think if we knew
more about her...

I'd already left the
department by then.

I imagine those files would have
been put back into deep storage.

But if she was an SOE
employee when she was killed...

..perhaps they were put
with the department roster.

Come with me.

What year was it, '44?

We've got more than the year.
Lucy...

in Crowley's records, what date
did they get him out of the rubble?

- 21st May, 1944.
- Right.

The whole building came down.
A lot of people died.

Wait, we need to check their faces.

Wait.

There she is.

Julie Oakwood.

Thank you.

Angela's given us everything on Julie -
employment summary, dates and transfers.

She moved around a lot,
there's a ton of bumph in there.

"See enclosed Addendum A."

Oh, it's here.

This is interesting.

She made a formal complaint to her
supervisor at SOE.

Malcolm Crowley had been
following her, bothering her.

When's it dated?

Three months before she died.

They weren't just random
strangers in a bomb blast.

- He knew her.
- He already wanted her.

So this is where
the pattern begins.

Yes. I said to Mr. Cavendish,

"We need to get back to clean code

"before Crowley poisoned the data."

And he must have found it.

He got back to Julie Oakwood
which led him to Crowley.

Crowley killed him for it.

Must've been something
in the personnel file.

That file's gone.

Then we'll have to
find another way.

Mummy?

- What is it? What's the matter?
- I can't sleep.

Go back to bed.

The bogeyman's watching me.

There's no one watching you.

He's outside in the dark.

There's no one watching
you, silly billy.

Come on, I'll tuck you in.

It says here her
mother died in '33.

What about her father?

No record of him here.

Susan! That took us
ages to put together!

Calm down, this is important.

Now... When Crowley killed
the girls, he was clever.

He made a pattern that
always pointed to someone else

but carried on all over the country

and, I think, made another pattern.

A large spiral like a Nautilus shell.

So, we start here in Hereford.

He didn't stay there after
the police made the arrests.

He moved on, and each time got
further away from where he started.

Crowley's too intelligent to kill on his own
doorstep, he would've gone some distance away.

If we interpolate the data,

working back from the first
murder which would be...

Cotswolds, it's the
middle of nowhere.

It's never gonna be perfect.

What are the nearest towns?

Northleach, Coln St Alwyns,
Chedworth...

- Chedworth?
- Yes, why?

"Dear Julie, what absolutely super news
about the job. I shall be coming..."

- The postcard.
- Yes.

"..coming to London next week and
can't wait to hear the details.

"I'm afraid the holiday
cottage is in a state of stone

"but I've put buckets
round to catch the drips

"until something proper
can be done, love, Dad."

Chedworth postmark,
14th January, 1944.

The Oakwoods had a
cottage in the Cotswolds.

You think that was
Crowley's starting point?

I'm sure.
I just don't know how yet.

We need to go through all
the data on Julie Oakwood.

That I was doing, until you
came in and knocked it about.

But you weren't looking
in the right places.

- Stop it, you two.
- Wait, there's something here.

They sent Julie's effects
to a forwarding address

in North London care of her father.

We could call him and
ask about the cottage.

His telephone number's right here.

- Barnet 7631.
- Mr. Oakwood?

I'm afraid not, Susan.

Now, listen carefully
to what I want you to do.

- Did you get him?
- Yes, he was helpful.

- Are you going to see him?
- Yes.

He might remember Crowley.

- I'll come with you.
- No.

He's quite old.

It'd be a bit
overwhelming, all of us.

It'll be upsetting for him,
talking about his daughter.

- All right. If you're sure.
- I'm sure.

Tickets, please.

You came.

I had no choice.

It's not that I want to
hurt your family but...

..I knew you would need an excuse.

You do want to be here, don't you?

Be honest with yourself.

You've been bereft, like me.

Ever since the war
ended, you've been

waiting and hoping and longing.

Believe me, I understand.

But you didn't give in.

And somehow you've found me.

No one else came close.

I was waiting such a
long time for you to call.

You were waiting for me?

"Dear Julie, what absolutely
super news about the job.

I shall be coming
to London next week

"and can't wait to
hear all the details."

I couldn't really believe, you see?

I thought...

"Does her mind really
burn that brightly?"

So I arranged things.

I set a little trap for you.

Mr. Cavendish.

All those complicated files.

You are beautiful.

Julie was beautiful.

Now, by the horrors which
these realms surround,

By the vast chaos of
these depths profound,

By the sad silence
which eternal reigns

o'er all the waste of these
wide-stretching plains,

Let me again Eurydice receive

I'm not her.

Put the gun down, please.

You can't escape.

And besides...

..you're not a killer, Susan.

You know that.

Put the gun down.

Thank you.

Would you go to the table, please?

- You'll leave them alone?
- Your family is safe.

You have my word.

There.

By the lamp.

Would you put it on, please?

Carefully.

Thank you.

I thought I'd lost you forever.

I am not Julie Oakwood.

You know what we have to do.

No. We don't.

I know what happened to
you. That wasn't your fault.

It was horrible.

- But you have a choice now.
- Please.

Don't be mundane.

Neither of us have a choice.

Everyone else can carry on

their hopeless, empty,
boring existences -

your son...your daughter...

your husband.

But in here...

..it will be just the two of us.

- Please.
- It won't hurt.

Please, leave them alone.

It will be beautiful.

Someone find the pin!

Hair pin, Jean.

Oh, my God.

Susan, let go.

It's all right.

It's all right.

It's all right.

That's everything you can tell us?

All right, boys.
I'll deal with this now.

May I?

I should have listened.

Why didn't you tell me?

I went to get a fag and when
I saw the gun was missing...

You should have told me.

There.

All done.

What do I do now?

What do I say?

If you try to explain...

..you'll end up telling
him about Bletchley.

Everything.

..and I slay the dragon!

Hello, Mummy.

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