All language subtitles for Professor.T.2021.S01E06.WEBRip.x265-ION265[eztv.re]

BASSY CLUB MUSIC

READING TO HIMSELF

Biotech. Their succession
of policy initiatives,

their design to build
closer links between education

and industry and promote
biomedical research...

They're ready for you, sir.

Great. Shall we?

LIFT PINGS

APPLAUSE

Ladies and gentlemen.
Nice to see you all, folks.

You guys always seem to come out
when there's free champagne.

All right, so,
this speech will be very...

GUNSHOT

BIKE ENGINE REVS,
TYRES SQUEAL

Are you OK?
Yeah.

Oh, my God.

BUSY CHATTER

Paul, what are you doing here?

I thought you weren't due back
till tomorrow?

No time like the present.
I picked it up on the scanner.

A shooting
at the Cambridge Science Park?

Not exactly The Bronx, is it?
So what have we got?

Drive-by, single shot,
single shooter.

And do we know the target?
This is James Samson's company.

Have I heard of him?

If not, you soon will have.

You look, er... better.

I feel it, although I don't
want to get ahead of myself.

One day at a time.

Something like that.
Where's Winters?

Running late.

By the way,
she's his wife, not his daughter.

Thanks for the heads-up.
Welcome.

Mr Samson? Mrs Samson.
This is Detective Inspector Rabbit.

Are we interrupting your day off,
Detective Inspector Rabbit?

Not exactly.

Look, I don't mean to be rude,
but is this gonna take long?

I have a press conference on hold.
James, you're not serious?

Respectfully, sir, I think you may
need to reconsider your priorities.

DISTANT SIRENS

We'll see. In the meantime, perhaps
I can expedite your inquiries?

And how would you do that?

Well, I can say with certainty,
no, I have no idea who did it.

And I can also say that whoever
it is that you're looking for

is an absolutely terribly shot.

My husband's joking. It's not funny.

This whole farrago has actually
given my wife a bit of a fright.

That may well have been
the perpetrator's intention.

How do you mean?

Whoever did this may be more intent
on scaring than harming you.

Do you think it might have anything
to do with your announcement?

Because it would seem a funny way
to thank you for your largesse.

We are pioneers
in embryonic stem cell research,

there's no end of whack jobs

that just think
I'm the spawn of the devil.

KNOCK AT DOOR
I'm going.

Ah, we are just finishing up here,
reschedule for 12.

You're unbelievable.

The press conference has been
cancelled, everyone's going home.

No! Bugger it!

My God, are you OK?

This is my younger boy, Freddie,

and the charmer over there in
the doorway is Henry, my older son.

I told you the interview
was a bad idea, Dad.

Yeah, we all did.
What interview is that?

Weekend Business Magazine.

If your budget
won't stretch to a copy,

I'll have my office, you know,

ping one over.
That won't be necessary.

I think you'll find it raises
loads more questions,

but in the meantime,
unless there's anything else?

DISTANT SIREN

Thank you, Mr Samson, Mrs Samson.

LIFT PINGS,
NEARBY SIREN WAILS

Someone's in a hurry.
Not exactly happy families, was it?

He's back! You look... better.

Did you two work on that together?
Here's a bullet casing.

Better get that back to the lab.

Hey, I missed you first thing.

I overslept.
Unlike you, Dan.

How was last night?

Not now, Lisa, it's not a good idea
to mix work with pleasure.

MUSIC: 'Piccolissima Serenata'
by Jula De Palma

# Mi faro prestare
Un soldino di sole

# Perche regalare lo voglio a te

# Lo potrai posare
Sui biondi capelli

# Quella nube d'oro accarezzero

# Questa piccolissima serenata

# Con un fil di voce si puo cantar

# Ogni innamorato all'innamorata

# La sussurrera, la sussurrera

# Mi faro prestare
Un soldino di mare

# Perche regalare
Lo voglio a te

# Lo potrai posare... #
MUSIC ECHOES

# Nel tuo sguardo azzurro mi tuffero
Questa piccolissima serenata. #

SINISTER MUSIC BLENDS IN,
SONG FADES

BLOWER WHEEZES

I've cancelled your 9am, professor.
Ah.

I know you don't like
birthday cakes,

so I bought you a doughnut instead.

POP Whoa!

DONCKERS:
We've recovered the motorbike.

False plates

and the vehicle identification
number's been filed off.

Nothing reported stolen in the area
that matches its make or model.

Anybody see our shooter dump it?
No, it's a wasteland.

No cameras or buildings overlooking.
And no sign of the weapon.

So what else?

Well, we're convinced
James Samson was the target.

Bit of a Branson figure,
endurance racing, skydiving,

that kind of thing.

Worth a billion quid, give or take.
I'll take if he's giving.

He's no stranger to controversy.

I can see that.

Maybe it was a pro-life activist
firing a shot across his bows?

What does the professor think?

Tempest?

Have you put a whole load more
on the payroll in my absence?

CHUCKLING

SOULFUL STRING MUSIC

BLOWER WHEEZES

Please.

I've got something for you.

James Samson?
Yes, I thought you might know him.

As a matter of fact, I do.

My father was friends
with his business partner.

Oh, didn't know he had one.

Aaron Bell.

More of a drinking companion,
actually.

Of James Samson?
Of my father.

Did they have a falling out,
Samson and this Bell character?

You could say that.

Enough for Mr Bell
to wanna shoot him?

I doubt it. Aaron Bell has been dead
for more than a decade.

Well, I don't suppose you know

anything about
stem cell research, do you?

Not a great deal, though neither
does James Samson by all accounts.

It was Bell's brilliance
that made his millions.

We're trying to work out
who would want to shoot him.

SAMSON, ON VIDEO: 'That's why,
today, I'm announcing

'that I'm signing the Giving Pledge,

'which commits me to giving away
the vast majority of my fortune

'to deserving causes between now
and the time of my death.'

How do you know about this?

James Samson is something of
a bete noire in university circles.

Why's that?

Academics are somewhat prone
to professional jealousy, it seems,

especially former colleagues.

Looks like they've got
plenty to be jealous about.

So glad you're here.

Mrs Samson, this is
Professor Tempest and DS Winters.

Hello. I really need you
to talk some sense into James.

He seems to be treating the whole
thing like a bit of a joke.

I know. I begged him to take it
seriously, but he just won't listen.

I even told him to hire a bodyguard,
but...

GUNSHOT

Pull.

GUNSHOT

Mr Samson.
Ah.

Our friends from the police.
You arrested anyone yet?

We're working on it.
Well, I should bloody well hope so.

DS Winters and Professor Tempest,

he works with us
in an advisory capacity.

This is my son Freddie.
Adopted son.

No need for the qualifier.

Well, your recent profile
was very specific about it.

Son will suffice.

Freddie's a bit of a whizz
with the numbers,

he's my right hand man, in fact.
Ironic, then, that his right hand

can no longer
be tested for gunpowder residue.

What?

I'm guessing this shooting
party was his idea.

It's OK, Dad.

Oh, help yourselves to refreshments.

You weren't on site at the shooting
yesterday, were you, Mr Samson?

No. I was driving in
from a breakfast meeting.

Is that business or pleasure?
Pleasure, actually.

Someone who can vouch for you?

Unfortunately not, I got stood up.

Oh, I know how you feel, mate.

It's just someone
I met on a dating app.

The plan was to take her
to the press conference

if she was up for it,
thought it might impress her

to hear the old man give away
50 million quid.

But she didn't turn up.

And where was this breakfast meeting
supposed to take place?

The Bird In Hand,
just in the centre of town.

They do a mean fry-up
on the weekdays.

Oh. Bugger it.
We'll look into it.

Really? Is that necessary?

Obviously you
don't seem to think so.

I think you're wasting our time
with impertinent questions.

I'm sorry you think that, sir.

There's clearly some right-wing
crackpot you should be focused on,

not my son.
And why would you advise that, sir?

Because clearly somebody
is out to try and scare me,

and they're wasting their time.

I don't scare easily. Freddie.

Sorry.

Pull.
GUNSHOT

Detective?

Um, my husband,
he's not telling you everything.

Really? What do you mean?

Well, he received an envelope
with a bullet in it.

When was this?

Just a couple of days
before the shooting.

Do you still have it?

No, I told him to go the police,
but he, er... he threw it away.

GUNSHOT

Thanks for your candour, Mrs Samson,
it's very helpful.

Very helpful indeed.

Nothing to worry about.

SIRENS WAIL

We're getting nowhere with this
pro-life line of enquiry.

There's just no history of that kind
of activism here, maybe we could...

Start with the family.

The professor thinks
this may suggest a motive.

SAMSON, ON VIDEO:
'That's why, today,

'I'm announcing that I am signing
the Giving Pledge,

'which commits me to giving away
the vast majority of my fortune

'to deserving causes between now
and the time of my death.'

Are his wife and sons supportive?
We'll soon find out.

His wife is genuinely worried.

Unlike her husband,
who's completely blase.

Perhaps he doesn't believe
his life is really at risk.

DCI BRAND:
Let's focus on the sons for now.

I'll check out Freddie's alibi.

You two should
speak to the eldest son,

that relationship seems strained.

Jasper, are you all right?

I believe so.

It's just, er... it's your birthday.

It's a difficult day for you.

If you want to talk, you...
you know where I am.

HORSES WHINNY

Mr Samson. DS Donckers.

I know who you are, any progress?
Not exactly,

we'd like to establish where
you were prior to the shooting.

I was here from six in the morning,

left at nine twenty
to go to the press conference.

Sam was with me until I left.

And when the shooting occurred?

I was already inside the building,

there are plenty of my father's
lackeys who can vouch for me.

What were you doing there?
I was a three-line whip.

But you're not employed by your
father, you have your own business.

He wants to play happy families.
And you're not inclined to?

He spent years ignoring his
first family in favour of work,

now he's got a new wife and son

and suddenly he wants us
all to hang out.

You mean, your mother and you?
Just me.

My mother passed a few years back.

That must have been painful for you,
to see your father marry again.

I had a lucky escape.
What do you mean?

You won't read this in a magazine,
but it's no secret.

She was my girlfriend when they met.
Natasha?

She realised he was a bigger prize
and he got played.

She seems to genuinely love him.
Yeah, right.

Her soulmate just happens to be
a billionaire old enough

to be her father?

So what do you think she feels
about his plan to give it all away?

I can only imagine.
What about you?

I couldn't care less
what my father does with his money.

Some people might find that
hard to believe.

I'm not the gold digger
in this family,

it's my step-mother you should be
talking to, or Alfred Bell.

Your brother?

He's no brother of mine.

Dan.

'Freddie Samson paid for breakfast
with his credit card at nine fifty,

'but it's no distance
to the science park.

'Doesn't rule him out.'

Well, we're heading back,
where are you?

Grabbing lunch at that pub...

..with a friend.

Who's the friend?
DIAL TONE

He hung up.

Would you mind dropping me off?
I, too, have a lunch date.

Professor. Dark horse.

It's with my mother.
HORSE WHINNIES

Samson doesn't act like a man with
a death threat hanging over him.

Which is what the professor's
been suggesting all along.

You should take a break more often.

Maybe it's an insurance scam.
Nah, he doesn't need the money.

What about the angle on Freddie,
have you spoken to him yet?

Dan checked out his alibi,
said it doesn't rule him out.

Well, you'd better
bring him in then, chop-chop.

There you go.

I'm joining Adelaide Tempest.

You're late.

I was unavoidably detained.

Kafka is most discombobulated.
KAFKA WHIMPERS

What kept you?
My police work.

How is it?
Suitably diverting.

And Christina?

Suitably diverting, thank you.

I hope you've learned your lesson
there, Jasper.

MUSIC: 'Io Che Non Vivo Senza Te'
by Pino Donaggio

# Siamo qui noi soli

# Come ogni sera. #

Good afternoon.

I'll have the usual, please,
Gustave.

And for monsieur?

He'll have the halibut, lightly
grilled, with a small green salad.

Oh, and a bottle of your lovely
Krug champagne. The 2003, please.

And, er... two glasses?

Why, it's the least they can do,
dear heart.

I spend an absolute fortune in here.

So, Samson Bell Growth Tech started
life as Bell Samson Associates,

set up by your adoptive father,
James Samson.

'And your biological father
Aaron Bell?'

'That's right.'

'I'm told Aaron was the scientific
brains behind it all.'

Maybe.
But he sold out to James?

Yes, in 2003.

For £8 million.
It was a lot of money at the time.

It was.
Not when you consider it was sold

for 1.1 billion
just over a decade later.

Your biological father
committed suicide

not long after
that deal was completed.

Why would you go work for someone
who might be responsible

for your father killing himself?

Dad wasn't to blame
for Aaron's death.

You don't think the
financial betrayal destroyed him?

Alcohol destroyed
my biological father.

Dad tolerated it
as long as he could,

when he couldn't tolerate it any
longer, he paid way over the odds

for Aaron's share of the business,
for what it was worth at the time.

A toast to us.

Oh, darling, I know we never mention
the B-word, or celebrate,

God forbid, but can't we just
raise a glass to us?

For once?

It's a difficult day for me, too.

INDISTINCT YELLING

SMACK

INDISTINCT RAGING

My biological father was violent
when he'd had a drink.

Dad... protected me from him.

He may have hung himself,
technically,

but the truth is
he drank himself to death.

And James took you under his wing?
He did. I owe him everything.

You even let him adopt you.

He was more of a father to me
than Aaron Bell ever was.

I wanted to acknowledge
my debt to him.

And become heir to his fortune.
I didn't ask for that.

So how do you feel about him
giving it all away?

It's his money, he's already
given me more than I can ever repay.

And how does Henry feel about it?

And about gaining a brother?
Step-mother too.

You'll have to ask him about that.

We already have.

DOOR OPENS

You're late.

I might have to start
going on a few more blind dates

if they all turn out like this.
Hey!

PHONE BUZZES

Sorry.

Ignore it.

Lisa?

Say again.

OK. Yeah, on my way.

HENRY: This is all your fault.

Mr Samson, I understand that...

You understand nothing!
I'm lodging a complaint.

Oh, Henry, please.
Oh, spare us the fake hysterics.

FRAUGHT MUSIC,
CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS

You look like
you've won the lottery.

You look post-coital.

Mrs Samson had a night class.
When she got back, she found this.

What about Mr Samson?

No sign.
Penny to the pound he's dead meat.

Or well on the way.

Have you informed Freddie?

I tried calling him,
but he's not picking up.

Maybe he saw something.
Saw something?

Yeah, he arrived as I was leaving.

Well, why didn't you say so?

I don't know,
he comes around most evenings.

You'd better go see
if you can find him.

DOOR BELL RINGS,
KNOCKING

Sorry to disturb you earlier.
No worries.

Did I wake you?
No, I was just chilling.

On your own?
Just a minute!

A gentleman never tells.

Since when have you been
a gentleman?

I still haven't forgiven you,
but if it carries on like this...

..I might just have to.

Hey. Is everything OK?

I was in and out in half an hour.
What time was that?

Half past nine.
He was fine when I left.

Unfortunately, Mr Samson,
we only have your word for that.

But I have a text message from him.

After you left?
Absolutely.

I'd forgotten a book
I'd asked to borrow,

he said he'd bring it to me
in the morning. I'll show you.

Bugger it.
That's the third one this month.

Here, can still see the message.

Do you think... he's dead?

We don't know that at this stage.

Look, is there anyone we can call
to come and be with you?

CHURCH BELLS RING

There are security
cameras at the house,

they show Freddie Samson
leaving at 9:38pm.

James sent him a text at 9:42pm,

it pinged off a tower
close to the house.

We've done preliminary forensics on
Freddie's car, no traces of blood.

What about Henry?

Worked late, a colleague
was with him the whole time

until the call came through
from Natasha.

What about her?

She has a whole classroom full of
belly dancers who'll vouch for her.

Maybe it's time we revisited
our theory about the activists.

Let's see what Professor Tempest
has to say first, yeah?

MUSIC: 'Oh! Mio Babbino Caro'

# O mio babbino caro

# Mi piace, e bello bello

# Vo' andare in Porta Rossa

# A comperar l'anello!

# Si, si, ci voglio andare!

# E se l'amassi indarno

# Andrei...

# Sul Ponte Vecchio

# Ma per buttarmi in Arno!

# Mi struggo e mi tormento!

# O Dio, vorrei morir!

# Babbo, pieta, pieta!

# Babbo, pieta, pieta! #

I need to see the blood tests.
We've already checked them.

It's definitely his blood.
I need to check for sedimentation.

OK. Dan?
I'll chase them up.

We need to question his wife
about the Giving Pledge.

You don't believe in true love?
Sure I do.

And I still put out
a stocking for Santa.

I don't know what more to tell you.

Did your husband
discuss his pledge with you

before he announced he would be
giving away his fortune?

Yeah, of course he did.
And you were OK with it?

Why wouldn't I be?

Well, I imagine you stood to be
substantially disinherited.

So you think I married him
for his money?

You know, James changed his will
when we got married

because I asked him to.

I insisted on a prenuptial agreement
that would leave me nothing,

so that he'd know that I love him,
not all this.

So who will it all go to?

I don't know,
it was always his plan to...

..leave the business to the boys,
but...

..Henry's stubborn,
and he's so angry.

Sergeant Donckers
brought it for you yesterday.

I told her you weren't
really into celebrating birthdays.

Are you OK?

Yeah. I'm fine.

I never did stop
believing in Santa, you know.

I just did not
want to ruin your life.

You deserved someone normal,
someone who'd make you happy.

I know.

I know you better
than you know yourself.

I'm afraid I doubt that very much.

I always understood, you know.

And I have forgiven you.

You just need to forgive yourself.

The results you asked for,
professor.

Hmm.

Hmm.
What?

The whole thing was staged.

It was too operatic,
like a Gothic horror.

Reality is so much more banal.

It looked pretty real to me.

And his wanton disregard for death
threats, no-one's that blase.

I don't scare easily.

'He staged his own death?'

Or his disappearance.
Precisely so.

How'd you work that one out?

The blood traces show that
he stumbled as he left the room,

put out a hand to steady himself,
but it's clearly a right hand.

James Samson was left handed.

Pull!
GUNSHOT

And the wall
would have been on his left,

so he would automatically have used
his left hand to support himself.

Wow.

The hand print is merely
a flashing red light.

You're a genius.
Proof is the sedimentation.

When blood leaves the body,
platelets start to settle.

The blood found at the scene
belongs to James Samson,

but it was collected
some time before the incident.

There was an awful lot of blood.
No doubt collected in stages,

the last of it some time ago,
judging by these results.

James Samson is playing dead.

It's an Oscar-winning performance,
then.

We've just found his body.

POLICE RADIO CHATTER

PHONE RINGS
Sorry.

All right, then?
'We just found his body.'

Are you sure it's him?
As sure as I can be,

he's not exactly looking his best.

Oh, my God.

He was shot with a nine millimetre
fired from close range.

Same calibre as the bullet
fired from the motorbike.

And there are extensive burns,

we're waiting on a postmortem
to establish cause of death.

God, what a mess.

Seems like overkill.
Operatic, even.

So where does this leave us?

Natasha has an alibi

and no obvious motive, seeing as
she stands to inherit nothing.

What about the sons?
Freddie was the last to see him.

James was alive when he left.

I don't believe that either of them
are happy with his Giving Pledge.

Maybe they cooked it up together.
PHONE RINGS

Martin.

Are you joking?

OK. Yeah, I'm gonna have to
call you back.

He died of a heart attack.

He was already dead
when he was shot and burnt.

Are they sure?
Biomarkers were sky high,

Martin says he was
a cardiac arrest waiting to happen.

Draining himself of blood can't have
helped his underlying condition.

Seems like it was staged after all.

Bring both the sons in.

Tempest, can you sit in?

'Which of his sons
did your father love the most?'

I've asked myself the same thing.

He loved us both equally.

Henry may pretend otherwise,
but deep down he knows it's true.

And which of you loved him more?

It's not a competition.

This ain't for you, maybe.

Henry clearly thinks
you'd win on both counts.

Our father and I had our issues.

Including your step-mother, Natasha.

I've made no secret of it.

Were you aware she insisted
on a pre-nuptial agreement?

In the event of your father's death,
or their divorce,

she receives nothing.

Her love for your father
is entirely genuine.

I...

I had absolutely no idea.

Natasha told us your father

was desperate to bring you
into the business,

but you persisted
in rejecting him.

Our relationship was complicated.

Working with him or Freddie
wouldn't have improved matters.

You did not consider it
your filial duty?

That's a bit of a quaint notion.

Perhaps, but I've been
thinking about it a lot lately.

What is a son's duty to his father?
To respect him?

Even if he doesn't deserve
our respect?

Tests show the blood found
in your father's study had been

collected over a number of weeks.

The evidence indicates
he staged the scene

to make it appear
as if he'd been attacked.

We know he must have had help.

One of you was a dutiful son
who honoured his wishes.

Which of you loved him enough
to do that?

I tried to stop him.

He'd been drawing blood for weeks.

It wasn't difficult for someone
with his background.

I can imagine.

Told him it was a terrible idea.

So why was he so hell-bent on it?

He was convinced it would
bring Henry back into the fold.

You know how it is.

We take love for granted
until something terrible happens.

Difficult circumstances
bring people together.

The plan was he'd go into hiding...

..probably for no more than a week,
then he'd come back,

he'd pretend
he'd escaped his abductors.

Everyone would be so relieved.

You'd all live happily ever after.

What happened?

I smuggled him out
in the boot of my car.

I had to stop at the gate,
we arranged that he would text me

once he felt the car
speeding up again.

So how did he end up dead, Freddie?

I messed up. I messed it all up.

We agreed I'd pull over and
get him out once I was in the woods.

Dad?

SOBBING

Oh, shit!

I didn't know what to do,
I panicked.

Sorry, Dad.

'I couldn't go to the police,
you see.'

I mean, who'd believe me?
A dead man couldn't vouch for me.

Ah!

I sort of just acted out
what I thought might have happened

if Dad really had been abducted.

I'm sorry, Dad.

GUNSHOT

'I tried to make it look
as if they killed him.'

But his heart had already stopped.

There wasn't much blood.

I thought it would be pretty obvious
to forensics.

So I tried
to get rid of the evidence.

It was too wet.
I couldn't keep the fire going.

So I just left him there.

I messed up.

I messed him up so badly.

SOBBING

So the drive-by shooting,
that was the father's idea as well?

Sounds like it. The gun was his.
But the bike was Freddie's.

It's been sitting in his garage
since he was 16,

he paid for it in cash.

Was probably stolen
in the first place.

Poor bastard.

Imagine doing that to your own dad.

Are you OK?

I have to go home.

DISTORTED YELLING

Pull the trigger!

SOUND DULLS

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