All language subtitles for Strike 2 The Silkworm S02E01_[English] (SUBRIP)

* You and me *

* Me and you *

* Somehow we make it through *

* I may be gone *

* I may be far away *

* But I'll walk beside you *

* Every step of the way *

* When you're used bruised *

* Black and blue *

* Don't think about it *

* Never doubt it *

* I'll walk beside you **

I just..

I don't-I don't understand

how you can still love me.

Built for stamina, me.

'Cormoran?'

Uh, it's 9:40.

- Ugh!
- The client's waiting.

Thought you'd want to, uh..

I'll be five minutes.
The alarm must've..

Could you offer them
a cup of tea or something?

Yeah, we're on second cups
already.

'Okay, offer them a biscuit.'

That always makes people
feel special.

Right.

Reading it again?

So, Daniel, I'm off.

Now, I've done a letter
for the HR people.

Don't try to dissuade me.

What's this about?

No, no. Please don't.

It's effective immediately.

Et cetera, et cetera.

Morning.

Fifteen minutes late.

I bet the army wouldn't
let you get away with that.

If you didn't have
such a good-looking secretary

I'd have left.

Good morning.
How can I help you?

Hey, excuse me.
I'm not waiting.

Robin, would you make up
Mr. Baker's final bill?

- But you're not finished.
- We are.

I'm sure you can find somebody
who doesn't mind

having a tosser for a client.

Come this way.

I need you to make
a phone call.

One phone call?

I can pay.

Your girl said
what your rates are

and if the call's not longer
than five minutes

then I've already got
the money on me.

My husband's gone off
to a writer's retreat

and he'll have told 'em
not to pick up to me.

So, I just need you
to get him on the line

and then I can tell him
to come home.

Could a friend not
do this for you?

My neighbor, Edna, can't do it

because she's a woman.

He's gone off before,
only this time

it's been ten days.

And our girl's missin'
her daddy and gettin' upset

and we need him back.

Have you got the number
for this retreat?

Bigley Hall.

He's always talkin'
about that one.

- Owen Quine.

He's a very famous
and good novelist.

Morning.
I'm calling for Owen Quine.

I know Mr. Quine sometimes asks
for his calls to be screened

but these, uh,
medical test results, uh..

He really needs
to take this one.

Okay.

Thanks.

He's not there.
I believe them.

There's no charge.

Sorry we couldn't help you.

'I'll see you out.'

'No charge.'

How's the day looking?

Oh, well, surveillance
on the Gunfrey place

then I'm pulling town hall
records on Mr. Oaks

while you see
Mrs. Ingalls in Chelsea

and then...at 4 o'clock,
you're due to follow

Mr. Upington from work, which I
reckon will take about two hours

which will lead us
to 6 o'clock and drinks.

Drinks?

With Matthew.
It's been pushed back twice.

- Please tell me..
Great. Fine.

Uh, could you text me

Caroline Ingalls'
contact details?

Sure.

Can you find him?

'I'm afraid we haven't
the capacity'

to take on another client.

If you're worried, you could
maybe try calling the police.

Yeah, they can trace phones
and track bank card usage

things we can't do
without breaking the law.

Yeah, but I called
the police before

and then he showed up
in a hotel with some girl

and everyone got upset
how I'd wasted police time.

I got a photo of him.

'His agent, Liz, will pay.'

Owen's her best client.
She loves him.

She can take it out
of his next commission.

Please.

Absolutely not.

Leonora can find
her own damn husband.

Excuse me, um..

...end of flu.

It's been hellish.

And anyway, I fired Owen.

I'm not sure
Leonora is aware of that.

Was there any particular reason
for it?

Owen has written a very
thinly disguised slandering

of the people who've
tried to help him.

He attacks his publisher

his editor, me, other writers..

It is a thinly disguised..

...nasty little allegory

that deserves nothing
but burning.

And I say that as someone
who...loves books.

Ralph!

'He's out with Bo!'

Mm.

Owen would like nothing better

than for a search party

to be sent out to find him.

I shan't pay for his PR.
Now, if you'll excuse me..

That's him there, isn't it?

Oh, yeah.

That's, um..

...me, Quine

Andrew Fancourt..

...Joe North.

'My first three clients.'

You represent Andrew Fancourt?

He sells a lot of books,
doesn't he?

Hm.

Out of the three writers

Andrew and I have parted ways.

And...Joe's dead.

AIDS.

Do you think Quine
might be staying with friends?

He hasn't got any left.

Well, he teaches
creative writing

that supplies him.
What a phrase that is.

It supplies him
with a fresh pool

of wide-eyed sycophants.

'Oh.'

- 'I'm not sure he's very well.'
- 'I know.'

'His poos are like boulders.'

Get him some fiber.

And, um...a mint tea.

For his bowel?

For my throat.

For God's sake, for the dog.

Apparently, he took first
in English at Warwick.

I'm minded to call them
to check.

I won't waste any more
of your time.

Just a few more questions.

When was the last time
you saw Quine?

We had lunch together.
We ate at Congreve's.

By then, I'd had some very angry
calls from Daniel Chard.

I have never not read
a manuscript

before sending it off.

But just for once,
I skimmed a few pages

and told Ralph to send it off.

Unforgivable.

I went to stay
with a writer friend of mine

Dorcus Pengelly.

That's her real name.

Once I had read what the book
contained, I..

...fired him.

- Mm.

How did he take the news?

Poorly.

Before you judge me for that..

...I'll have you know
that I was one

of the very few friends
he had in this industry.

No, not yet.

She's sweet.

Had a hard start in life.

The state is niggardly
with those..

...needing more help
than average.

Perhaps you've discovered that
for yourself.

I hope you feel better soon.

'It will tell my story,
as all my books have done.'

I drew upon my..

...disagreement
with Andrew Fancourt.

The end of a literary era.

I'm putting together
a pack on Quine for you.

He's a very important writer

according to himself.

'Those any good?'

Eh...he's not a fan
of short sentences.

I managed about ten pages
and had to take a break

before I gave myself a migraine.

Should I contact Liz Tassel
about billing?

No, she won't be paying.

'I would like to help his wife'

but it will mean
turning down some paid work.

Well, it's your business.

When we're out of debt..

I know you're worth more
than I'm currently paying you.

It'll be a nice change trying
to bring a couple back together

instead of helping people
divorce.

Yeah, I thought that too.

Alright, I'm off
to Islington now.

Surveillance
on the Gunfrey place.

'I'll swing
by Leonora Quine's first.'

'Can you make a start
on those searches?'

Will do.

Don't forget drinks.

I won't. See you at 8:00.

6:00! We're meeting at 6:00!

'6:00?'

Uh, L-Leonora, dear,
I, I really must be..

Cormoran Strike,
Private Investigator.

God, has it come
to that already?

Jerry's Owen's editor.

He's one of the good ones.

Of course, we all
do worry about him.

Hm.

You ring me as soon
as he shows up, alright?

'Nice to meet you.'

Did you smell the wine on him?

I got woozy just talkin' to him.

Nice he popped around though.

Andrew.

Have you read it?
Did he send it to you?

What do you want?

I fired Owen.

As soon as I read "Bombyx,"
I told him it was despicable.

I wanted you to know that.

I haven't read it.

Your dog is shitting
on my lavender.

It's possible your husband
is seeking publicity

for his new manuscript,
or he could be genuinely upset

at being fired by his agent.

He's her best client though.
He's really good.

Liz came over to see him
last week and all.

Back in the day, she chose him
over Andrew Fancourt.

Why'd she go and fire him now?

I think he insulted a lot
of the people she worked with.

A hotel for ten days
would be expensive.

Can you think of anyone
he might be staying with?

He's had girlfriends
as well as flings.

He always says, "That's that,
no more," every time

and I always believe him.

So, yeah, he's probably
shaggin' some girlfriend.

And I still want him home.

You're stinking my flat out!

- Matthew.
- Hi. Cormoran.

- Uh, no.

It's table service here.

In a pub?

Matt comes here quite a lot.

Yeah, the food's alright.

Well, it's not Mango Tree,
but it passes.

Mango Tree?

Yeah, Thai place.

Any good?

'Yeah, if Thai's your thing.'

Do you watch the rugby?

No, what happened?

England-Wales.

- Okay.

England, sixteen, Wales, five.

Matt played rugby
for Yorkshire under 16s.

- Ah..
- Yeah.

Do you play anything? Um..

Like, did you,
before you, you know.

Oh, well, I-I used to be
the European hopscotch champion

but I can't do that anymore.

Funny.

We'd like to invite you to..

In eight weeks?

- Mm-hm. Yup.
- Yeah.

It's excitin'.

So..

...how long have you two
been together?

- Nine years.
- Nine years. Yeah.

Yeah, we went
to school together.

Yeah, she was the only half-fit
girl with a brain, really.

So I had no choice.

What about you,
have you got a girlfriend?

No. No.

Not for a while.

I might head to the bar, um..

We're, um, we're working

on a missing person's case.

Sounds like most of the work's
watching married people cop off.

I said to Robin, "You should be
called private investigators."

That's not all we do.

We're actually quite busy
at the moment, aren't we?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Gonna have
to take on a new investigator.

'How do you find one?'

Uh, we have the ties,
probably go with ex-police.

They tend to have
useful relationships.

I'm gonna go to the bar.
What can I get you?

- Uh, yes, same again, please.
- Yeah.

'Robin?'

Oh, um, uh, white wine,
please, yeah.

Alright.

Um, white wine,
one of those Czech beers

and, uh, can I get
a pint of that?

I felt a bit sorry
for him, to be honest.

He's not an easy
conversationalist, is he?

What's up with you?

Nothing, just, um..

...him talkin' about
taking someone else on.

Yeah, but not for your job.

He just needs
another one of him.

Yeah.

I suppose I just thought
I'd move up the ladder there.

I mean, I never bloody see you.

You're bringing in
next to no money.

Fuck's sake!

I told you it'll be tough
at first, building up an agency.

I'm pregnant.

- Morning, Venetia.
- Morning.

- How did you..
- 'It's on the invitation.'

Oh. Mm.

I was conceived in Venice.

Good noodles at that pub.

I think I've got something.

You said he's only friends
with students

so, I looked at the class
he teaches.

They put out a publication
each year

showcasing the students' work

with contact details
and web links.

One of them has a blog

about her erotic fiction

full of cozy mentions
of her and TGW

The Great Writer.

- Her name's Kathryn Kent.
- Sounds promising.

What did you think of Matthew?

Nice bloke.

- Yes.

I'm looking for Owen Quine.
I thought he might be here.

No.

- He can go to hell.

'I'm an investigator.'

'His wife's very worried
for him.'

Thought he might be
staying with you.

You took his writing class,
didn't you?

We were friends.

He said he'd write me
into his new book.

'And then he posted
a copy through my door.'

I hope I never see him again.

It's an odd one though.

Sending it to his girlfriend,
knowing it'd hurt her.

It seems nihilistic.

It's like a suicide note.

Railing against the world
that called your last novel

"Sphincter-clenchingly awful."

Is that a real review?

That was one of the better ones.

I'm heading to Leonora's
to ask some more questions, uh..

- Uh..

I can't tonight, um..

Yeah, okay.

'Oh..'

I've done the searches.

Might be worth asking her about
her husband co-owning a house

on Talgarth Road.

I know.

Yeah, but he never goes there.
I don't even know if we've got--

Might have been worth mentioning
given he's been missing

for nearly a fortnight now.

He owns it with Andrew Fancourt

so we can't ever do
anything with it.

Their mate, Joe, left it
to them when he died

and sometimes, they get it
rented out to artists and that.

But mostly, Andrew won't
let them make money off it

just to piss Owen off.

Here you are.

He won't be there.
It's a wreck.

Did he leave you a copy
of his new manuscript

by any chance?

Oh, yeah.

'He left it for me
by the front door.'

He knows I'm not gonna
read it like that.

I only read 'em when there's
a cover and it's proper

even if he reckons it's good.

So, he posted this
into his own home?

Well, I don't know.
It was on the doormat.

- It was just sat there.
- Hm.

'Can't see any box files
for "Bombyx Mori."'

Oh, there will be.

He's always gettin' some idea

and it has to go down
before he forgets.

Apart from Jerry and Liz,
have you had any visitors

since Owen disappeared?

His publisher rang,
but he didn't come over.

People don't, really.

Do they, Dodo?

Do you like to draw?

Yes.

And I take things.

Yeah, we talked about that,
didn't we, Dodo?

She pinches things
and sticks them in her monkey.

Who's that man?

He's helpin' us find daddy.

- I want daddy.
- Oh!

I know you do, hon.

Say what you like about him

but Owen does
a good bedtime story.

My name is Cormoran Strike.

That's not a name.

I was named
after a Cornish Giant.

Could I borrow this?

Go foryour life.

Hey, babes. How was work?

FSA are bringin' in new regs.

So, we have to get
on top of that one

with the client business.

And I've had mum on the phone
complainin' about a headache.

Is she alright?

Yeah. Just shit on attention.

That's a good-looking omelet.

Come on, then.

Robin, I'm going
to Quine's house.

Some intel to go through.

Give "Bombyx" a read,
would you?

See if you can make
any sense of it.

Cormoran Strike's office.

Yes, I-I am so sorry

that he was detained
on another case.

'Yeah, well, he, he can
still see you tomorrow.'

Okay, I'm so sorry
about that. Bye.

Oh!

He's dead.

I found his body
at that address.

- The police are there now.
- Oh, my God!

Does his wife know?

Police are there too.

It's a really odd murder scene.

It's quite disturbing,
pictures are pretty grim.

Uh..

Sorry.

'Jesus..'

It's demented, gutting someone

and taking
their intestines away.

Uh, you have to read this.

Look at the last chapter.

You finished it already?

Oh, I skipped to the end.
I always do.

Read it, go on.

No! No!

The hero dies in exactly
the same way Quine did.

Tied up, guts torn out.

Uh, it must be the grimmest
part of the book

and someone made him
re-enact it.

Sorry, I'm just gonna, um..

Hi, are you okay?

When?

Where are you now?

Right.
I-I-I'll come straight away.

Okay. I love you.

Everything okay?

Matt's mum just died.

Um..

U-uh.. She had a stroke.

Tell him I'm sorry, will you?

Yeah, um..

Uh, I'm gonna get the tube,
and then I'll, um..

I-I'll call you later.

Mystic Bob.

Hello, mate.

Oh, it's good to see ya.

I pulled a few strings
to get the case once I heard

it's one of yours.
How are ya?

How's the fiancee?

- We broke up.
- No.

Shit. Sorry, mate.

- Wha--

How about forensics?

Time of death's
gonna be a bastard.

Guts are missing,
so there's no last meal to date

and then,
there's acid everywhere.

Even the flies stayed off the
body, so we've got no maggots.

Neighbors saw a woman
in a burka comin' out

of the property about
ten days ago with a sports bag.

Burka's not a bad disguise.

Do we assume the bag was full
of Quine's intestines?

It seems so, yeah.

We'll have the dogs
search the rubbish dumps.

We've got a suspect as well.

The wife.
He was having an affair.

Probably gonna leave her,
but if he dies

she gets a nice
insurance payout.

She's got a key to this place.
All adds up.

I don't think
she had the ingenuity

to pull off
something like this

and she hired me to find him.

You don't have
the full picture, mate.

We talked to the neighbors.

Massive argument in the street

the night before he goes.

Did she tell you that?
And get this.

Before she married him, worked
in her uncle's butcher shop

in Hay-on-Wye

gutting pigs, the works.

Oh!

This is my mate, Cormoran.

Ex-SIB.

- The bloke that saved my life.
- Hi.

I've heard lots about you
from Richard.

He just finished a manuscript
for his new book.

He made some very unpleasant
allegations about people he knew

each of them has a motive, if
that's what you're looking for.

- But only if they'd read it.
- The killer definitely did.

Quine was killed
in the exact same way

as the hero from his book.

Tied up, gutted,
laid out to be eaten.

Bloody hell.

Is Leonora Quine in it?

Yes.

Not hard for her to get a look
at his work in progress.

'She's upset.'

It's all the coming and going.

They asked her questions.

I told them what she's like,
but they still did.

- I'm sorry for your loss.
- Yeah.

That's what they said as well,
but with them

you can see it's like
they have to say it.

I can't do much more
for you now, Leonora.

This is a murder case.

There's no charge
for the work we've done

so please
don't worry about that.

Sis!

They dug out photos.

These were private photos,
and they were all like

"Look, there's him
tied up by you."

And I'm saying, "Yeah,
but that's what he liked."

How does that mean
anything to anyone?

I can recommend a good lawyer,
she's an old friend of mine.

If they question you again--

Why have I got
to pay for a lawyer now?

All I ever done
was look for him.

Everybody, quiet!

It's alright, Dodo.

It's alright.

Let's do a cloud.

'I want daddy.'

- Daddy!

Birds?

A blue bird?

- Red.

There's a red pencil
for you then, Dodo.

Now, you put it there.

I'm a bit scared they are gonna
take me away from her.

She can't manage it.

It's only ever been
me and Owen.

It's great. Thank you.

- 11:00.

Do you think you could get
the day off?

Yeah, I'd like to, um..

I'll ask.

How long have you been up?

You sent me an email at 5 a.m.

The police think
Leonora killed Quine.

She needs our help.

- He's, uh..

Her funeral's already arranged.

He's going up today.

Take whatever time you need.

We've been getting a lot
of complaints from clients.

The work with Leonora
has really put us back.

I'm makin' a list of people
we know have been ridiculed

or slandered in the book.

Leonora, Liz Tassel..

- Succuba, and The Tick.
- Yeah.

Judging by how angry she is,
I'm guessing

Kathryn Kent's in there too.

I think she's Harpy.

I know what he says about the
three of them is really cruel

but there are others
that come off a lot worse.

Well, Liz mentioned the book
was attacking his publisher

Daniel Chard,
he could be The Cutter

Phallus Impudicus,
Vainglorious..

One of the really nasty ones.

Chard called me this morning,
he doesn't wanna risk

meeting us in London,
and he's paranoid

about his fund being tapped,
which is probably sensible.

So I'm gonna have to meet him
in bloody Devon.

I'll need a hired car
booked for tomorrow.

I'll drive us.

You sure?

I could probably manage
with an automatic.

No, I'm sure. I'll drive us.
Definitely.

I'm really sorry. I'm not gonna
be able to get away today.

We're just so over-stretched
on this case we're working on

and I've got a meeting
at the British Library tomorrow

that I tried to move, but..

Anyway, the good news
is it's around the corner

from the station, and I've got
a ticket for the 8:00 p.m.

So, I will be with you all
as soon as I can.

I'm sorry, Matt.

Um, give my love to your dad
and, uh, I love you.

Why does he have
to live in Devon?

At least it's not Cornwall.

Ah. Thanks for coming.

Hi.

Um, would you..

We're, uh, shoes off.

- If you don't mind.
- Oh, no problem.

Oh, sorry, I'd forgotten.

Um, why, why don't you
leave yours on?

- Oh, uh, relatively speaking.

- Oh, no.

I mean, it's a sprain.

That's all.

Tea

- Coffee will be great.
- Yeah.

Manny!

Would you please make coffee
for our guests?

Hmm.

He doesn't like it down here.

'He wants to be back in London.'

Horrible news about Quine.

How are his sales?

Oh, improving.

Look, what I have to say
is, uh, confidential.

Would you mind waiting
in the kitchen?

Sure.

Look, I'm fairly confident

well, I mean, almost certain
that "Bombyx Mori"

is not the work of one person.

Quine must have had
an accomplice.

How can you tell?

Well, the style seems like his

certainly, but..

Something's in it I doubt
he could possibly have known.

And I've been in books
all my life.

A-a writer's voice
is particular.

- Hard to substantiate.
- Heh. I know.

If you can prove definitively

who authored the book

I'll pay you 10,000 pounds.

I hate gossip..

...and believing that

maybe someone I know told Quine

private things about me.

"
- I have.

Well, it's especially savage
about me

and about the writer,
Andrew Fancourt.

I asked Andrew to join me
in suing to prevent publication

but that seems moot

since Quine has been..

- You know.
- Disemboweled.

Yeah.

What does Quine allege
about you both?

Well, in Andrews's case

he implies that Andrew himself

wrote a nasty parody
of his late wife's novel.

She killed herself over it.

Andrew found her
on the kitchen floor

with the parody
pinned to her chest.

Has Mr. Fancourt read "Bombyx?"

Uh, no, but I gave him a gist.

Fancourt and Quine were close
before they fell out.

- Liz Tassel.

Uh, she represented them both..

...for a while.

Liz told everyone
that Quine was a genius

and she had a huge crush
on Andrew.

Not a woman..

...who always gets it right.

And not least

in sending out "Bombyx Mori."

I'm just going to use the loo.

Are you friends of his?

We're private investigators.

I didn't push him
down the stairs.

- He fell.
- Okay.

- It's downstairs.

I'm just trying to think
if there's anything else

I need to ask. Er..

Um, look

I-I have a call
with "New Yorker."

I'm sorry the coffee
didn't materialize.

Manny's a little bit..

Well..

Oh.

Take a look at Jerry Waldegrave.

He'll be at our
centennial party.

I'll put you on the list.

Need to retrieve my assistant.

Oh, yes. Manny.

Forget about the coffee.

Would you please fetch
Mr. Strike's assistant?

All done, Mr. Strike?

Think so.

Go on then, speak your heart.

Really, I'm fine.

Chard ended up telling me
a lot of useful things.

The book might've
had multiple authors.

I got the impression Quine
knew a lot of damaging stuff

so maybe he was killed
to stop further revelations.

Chard avoided telling me
what Quine knew about him.

I can guess, though.

Well..

I wasn't gonna stop him talking

by pickin' him up
on his manners.

No, it's really, it's not
about that, it's just..

- As in--

I mean, what were you intending
when you hired me?

Because..

...I've been working
really hard--

I know. I've noticed.

You said you're gonna take on
another investigator.

Okay, okay. Listen, just..

You might not like
what I'm gonna say

but just let me get it out.

I did take you on thinking
I could train you.

Of course, I didn't have
the money for that

but I reckoned
you could learn on the job..

...until..

...well, you're getting
married to someone

who hates you doing this.

I'm not gonna ask you to ruin
your marriage over a job.

Have you told Matthew
about today?

Uh-huh. No, not yet.

I'll need a partner
who can share the long hours

who can give up their weekend
at the drop of a hat.

I wouldn't ask that
of an assistant

but I'd demand it of a partner.

That's what broke
me and Charlotte up in the end

amongst other things.

She hated what I do.

I hated that when she finally
demanded that I choose

I chose the job over her.

If it's what you really want,
then I'll put you

on a surveillance course
when I get the money

but I'm not spending that
on an assistant.

That is what I want.

This is what I love.

Then cheer the fuck up
and give me that sandwich

if you're not going to eat it.

It's not a good sandwich.

- Too much onion.
- There's no such thing.

Uh..

Can we get going?

If I don't make my train,
I'll miss the funeral.

Don't. Don't, let's just go.

Bollocks.

I'm gonna see what's happening.

- Sorry about this.
- Oh, uh..

And they're not gonna be able
to get in to tow it out.

It's an idiotic place
to break down.

Can you open that gate?

Hey, this is a bit..

Uh, I've got this, trust me.

Where did you learn
to drive like that?

Oh, I've, um,
I've always loved driving.

I used to practice in the field
with my uncle doing the pedals--

Yeah, but that wasn't
just enjoying driving.

I, um, did
an advanced driving course.

The year I left the uni. Well.

Something to do.

Got me out of the house a bit.

'Signal's back.'

'Andrew Fancourt here.'

'I have no comment to make
on "Bombyx Mori."'

'I haven't read it,
and I don't intend to.'

'And nor do I have
any valedictory words'

'for Owen Quine,
I disliked him both as a man'

'and as a writer.'

'I hope that helps.'

Oh.

I can't just leave her, can I?

Is there anyone you can call?

Oh, God! This isn't happenin'!

Come inside, love, you have to.

Be a good friend,
and be a good girl.

She will.

Call him,
tell him what's happened.

I will, I promise.

I'll be home soon, Dodo.
I promise.

Thank you.

Thanks. Goodbye.

Excuse me.

- Yeah.

I'll pay you 20 quid if you
drove me home in this car.

And, uh, why can't you do it?

I've only got one leg

and my driver had to go home.

Do you want more money or
is it the situation as a whole

that's making you hesitate?

Excuse me.

Arrested or charged?

I'm asking you these questions

to try to keep you
out of prison.

Well, I didn't do anything.

That's enough, innit?

The ugly truth is
it might not be.

What does she mean,
"It might not be?"

You were supposed
to keep me out of here.

You promised.

But Fancourt's in "Bombyx Mori."
You'd have thought--

I'm not sure the Met's Literary

Criticism Unit
was brought in on this one.

Well, he's certainly got
the imagination for it.

Lots of the profile
pieces you read on him

talk about
how he writes violence.

Could Fancourt kill a man?

Well, he's very good
at writing hate.

The one-legged detective, I've
read about you, Mr. Strike--

I've been looking
into Owen Quine's death.

I was hoping we'd have
a chance to talk.

Well, here we are.

Robin!