Professor T

(footsteps crunching) (soft music) (phone ringing) I saw you, Mother, with another man.

You betrayed him, Mother.

You betrayed us.

(crying) MAN: It's been here the whole weekend.

(car boot opens) (tense music) (officer sighs) (theme music) (phone ringing) God's sake, Dan, pick up!

(officers talking on radios) -RABBIT: Donckers.

-Boss.

Have you heard from D.S.

Winters?

Didn't he tell you?

He's on a training course.

Training course?

Yeah, some risk management bollocks.

How to be a proper jobsworth, you know the sort of thing.

Hm-mm.

Don't go all Little Bo Peep on me, Donckers.

It's only for a few days.

What have we got?

Management says the car's been here since late on Friday evening.

I've already asked for a copy of the CCTV.

Looks like there's traces of blood around the handle, maybe the perp's prints.

-Get forensics to prioritise.

-Hm-mm.

Something's not right about the clothes, Boss, suspiciously clean for someone who's been shot in the head.

Bag them up and send them off to the lab then.

Get them to take a look.

Yeah.

-He looks almost familiar.

-Yes.

Me too, Boss.

Swear I've met him somewhere before.

I just can't think where or when, for the life of me.

The name doesn't ring a bell?

Driver's license says Steve Daniels, but there's no record of anyone with that name and the corresponding place and date of birth.

(dramatic music) RABBIT: You think he's known to us?

LISA: Can't think how else I'd recognise him.

And what about the car?

Registered to the same name, same address.

Okay.

Let's check it out.

(door opens) Thanks, Deano.

I'll look down here, you check upstairs.

(drawer opens) It's more like a hotel than a home.

Same in here.

There's one pair of jeans in the wardrobe.

One can of beer in the fridge.

Only personal touch was this.

Thing is I'm even more sure now I've met him somewhere.

RABBIT: Someone will know where this was taken.

Did you check that?

I was getting round to... (beep) it.

VOICEMAIL: You have one new message.

KATHERINA: Steve... please...

I won't try to persuade you.

I promise.

Just give me a call.

Let know you're okay.

(dramatic music) (phone tapping) RABBIT: Any news?

(message sends) Still waiting to hear, Boss.

BRAND: Any updates?

Nothing usable from CCTV, Ma'am.

And we'll have to wait for forensics.

D.S.

Donckers thinks she might recognise him, but there's no match for his prints on PNC, I'm afraid.

(Lisa's computer pings) LISA: Bingo.

They've just emailed.

(keyboard tapping) Looks like he's one of us.

Steve Daniels' real name is Danny Stevens.

(doorbell buzzes) (prolonged doorbell buzzing) (post flap clicks open) I strongly suspect that you are in there, Mother.

Past experience suggests you shall have to talk to me eventually.

(flap squeaks closed) (dramatic music) That's what he thinks, darling.

I don't know, I thought the [UNCLEAR].

I know.

D.I.

Rabbit, D.S.

Donckers, this is Detective Superintendent Alf Mercer from regional drug squad.

Thanks for making the time.

I know how busy we all are.

You may well remember the case that D.I.

Lainsborough came to see us about?

Well, it seems we have inadvertently cut across it once again.

The road haulage guy?

MERCER: Kenny Holland, we've been working with covert ops for the best part of a year to infiltrate his operation.

We think he's using his fleet to smuggle MDMA and cocaine from the continent through all the major east coast ports.

So, Danny Stevens was undercover?

That's right.

I got a notification when you searched his name on PNC.

Come on, Lisa, walk away.

You have my sympathies.

It's horrible losing a colleague at any time, but especially on the job.

Do we know how his cover was blown?

Alf doesn't think it has been.

Well, Danny was being very cautious.

Staying on the fringes.

He'd been drinking at the bar for months before he said a word to the target.

Well, something gave the game away.

Or someone.

Me and his handler at covert ops, we were the only ones in the know.

There hasn't been a peep from Holland on this or any of the other principals.

Can't just turn a blind eye to murder.

I'm not asking you to.

Detective Superintendent Mercer is suggesting that we carry on investigating the murder of Steve Daniels.

But stay out of the drugs operation.

MERCER: For the time being.

Look, we have reason to believe Holland has a number of police officers on his payroll.

I'm sure none of us wants to blow the chance to root out a couple of bad apples.

Of course not.

And it goes without saying, not a word of this leaves this room.

Does Stevens have a next of kin?

Wife.

I'll, uh, get you the address.

Oh, um... there was a lot of phone traffic between Danny and this woman, Katherina Kaminski.

She works at the club where Holland and is cronies hang out.

She might know something.

We've seen her already, haven't we, Boss?

(sighs) Yes, we have.

(car doors close) I'll never get used to this bit.

Worst part of the job, especially when it's one of ours.

(door opens) Can I help you?

(slurping) (sniffing) I always knew this moment would come.

Danny was so blas about it.

How long had he worked undercover?

Oh, years.

He was addicted to it.

The risk, the secrecy.

(crying) It was like a drug.

(sniffs) Then you'd think nothing of it if he didn't make contact for a while?

He could be gone for days on end.

When was the last time you saw him?

Um, Thursday night.

(dramatic music) I mean, Fr- Friday morning he came back for a change of clothes.

Uh, stayed the night, left the next morning.

RABBIT: Did he say anything about his latest operation?

I mean, what he was working on?

(sniffs) He was always adamant that I...

I shouldn't have anything to do with it.

Said it was for my own protection.

Uh, I have, um, an emergency contact, though.

But check the club she works at.

Yeah.

(rain falling) (door opens) (sighs) (door closes) (umbrella swooshes open) (car hoots) Professor.

(tires squeal) Get in.

Popped in for a nail clip and a tidy up, Professor?

This is no time for merriment.

I appear to have mislaid my mother.

I appear to have mislaid my partner.

Perhaps we should team up.

I have a list of a dozen regular haunts to visit.

Well, she's a busy lady.

Or excessively capricious, depending on your point of view.

Alright, I'll drive you around.

But first things first, there's been a murder.

(club music) WOMAN: She's not in today, darling.

Tatiana.

Yeah, that's right.

You know her?

Sh- she has visited me... in a therapeutic capacity, you understand, Mm.

LISA: Professor?

I told you to wait for me.

Katherina Kaminski?

It's Kaminska.

Kaminska.

We're making inquiries about a Steve Daniels.

Perhaps this might jog your memory.

No.

Okay.

What about this?

I haven't seen him for a few days.

You haven't heard?

Did something happen to him?

Mr. Daniels has been shot dead.

CHAS: What's going on?

Hello, my name is D.S.

Lisa Donckers.

Chas Parton, I'm the owner.

We're investigating a murder.

Oh, you stupid cow.

I told you not to get involved with the bloody clients!

Mr. Daniels was a regular, then?

No point in denying it.

When was the last time you saw him?

Wednesday night.

He was in a fight, I'm hardly gonna forget it.

Come on, come... -No... - Come on, just once.

(head butting) -Hey, come on!

LISA: Can you ID the guy for us?

CHAS: Never seen him before in my life.

LISA: Credit card receipts.

CHAS: (sighs) He paid cash.

LISA: CCTV.

Oh God (laughs) I think he was one of Kenny's drivers.

I saw them talking earlier.

Kenny Holland?

Thank you, Miss Kaminska.

(tense music) That is so unfair.

Oh, I've got it, I'm too stupid for a promotion, aren't I?

And I'm too stupid for you.

(door opens) (door closes) (car door opens) She's not been in the karaoke bar for weeks.

Hard to imagine your mother hogging the mic belting out It's Raining Men.

[FLASHBACK OF ADELAIDE TEMPEST SINGING IN A CLUB] I believe her repertoire is of a more mature vintage.

So, where next?

Gustav's oleaginous bistro, or the even more questionable delights of the Cambridge Gin Palace?

Neither.

I thought we'd pay Kenny Holland a visit.

You have explicit orders from D.C.I.

Brand to refrain from investigating Mr. Holland at the request of D.I.

Lainsborough, if I'm not mistaken.

I'm not gonna sit on my hands and let some low life drug smuggling scumbag plead the fifth on what he knows about a murder.

Besides, I won't be interviewing him.

You will.

Quid pro quo.

(door knocks) (door opens) I'm so sorry, Mr. Holland.

HOLLAND: It's alright Sandra.

I'll handle it.

No need, Detective.

I never forget a face, or a figure like yours.

We're investigating a murder.

I told you the last time.

No lawyer, no questions.

Well, we were informed he was a friend of yours.

I assumed you'd want to help.

You're aware of what's happened?

Word gets around.

Wednesday last Mr. Daniels was embroiled in an altercation at a drinking establishment that you are said to frequent.

It has been suggested by a witness the assailant was one of your drivers.

I don't know who you are, dipstick, but you're barking up the wrong tree.

Are you saying you don't know the guy?

The first one?

No.

There was more than one guy?

More than one fight.

Chas told Steve he was barred.

There was a bit of a set-to before he chucked him out.

And why would he do that?

Chas doesn't like it when the punters sample the merchandise without paying.

Alright, then.

(tense music) Guess we'll pay Chas Parton another visit.

(door opens) (birds chirping) (ominous music) Oh, well, if it isn't Lord Lucan risen from the dead.

Whilst you were busy learning how to handcuff without chaffing, D.S.

Winters, the Professor and I solved a murder.

Found an unlicensed gun outside Chas Parton's club.

Well, congratulations, Lisa.

God's sake, Dan, grow up.

Professor.

(button clicks) Look, I'll do my best, okay?

You need to get me out of here.

I can't promise anything.

Well, then I can't promise that I won't start talking.

(door opens) (door closes) So, what do we all think?

We need to wait for forensics, but if it is the murder weapon, and we can link Parton to it... -Seems like quite a big if.

It's got to be enough to charge him.

You disagree, D.S.

Winters?

Well, I can't help but think that Chas Parton wouldn't be so stupid as to dump the murder weapon in the bins outside the club where he works.

You think it was planted?

-If I was a betting man.

-By whom?

Well, what about this woman who works there?

Katherina Kaminski.

Kaminska.

Look, we know she and Danny Stevens were connected, right?

Maybe they were romantically involved.

She was pretty distressed when we told her he was dead, Boss.

But she also seemed genuinely shocked.

Well, maybe she's a good actress.

Look, maybe he told her he was breaking it off.

Going back to his wife.

Professor, what do you think?

I think a woman who is let down in love may commit what is known as a crime of passion.

Do you honestly believe that we should be choosing Katherina Kaminska as a suspect?

Not for nanosecond.

What was all that crime of passion bollocks, then?

A warning, perhaps.

I can't believe D.C.I.

Brand decided to release Chas Parton without charge.

It was a logical decision based on a reasonable evaluation of the evidence she was presented with.

She is too infatuated with that slime ball, Simon, to make a reasonable evaluation about anything.

D.S.

Winters is almost certainly correct about Mr. Parton.

There is no convincing evidence to link him to Danny Stevens' murder.

And only the weakest suggestion of motive.

It is his reasons for saying so that are suspect.

He wants to punish me.

Ah.

Do you wish to solve this crime, D.S.

Donckers?

Or would you like to stand there all day airing your grievances?

Both, preferably.

Excellent.

In that case, perhaps you would arrange for me to examine the clothes the victim was found in?

And ascertain whether or not he was right or left-handed.

(tense music) Fine.

(car door opens) (car door closes) Sorry for dragging you all the way out here.

Ha, I'm hardly gonna come to your office, am I?

Still being bugged there?

I haven't heard otherwise.

What do you think?

(dog barks) Do we get to go ahead?

Yeah, yeah.

Whenever you like.

This weird business with Steve.

No, it's just an unlucky coincidence.

That young bird's sharp.

I don't want her sniffing around my business.

Relax.

They're chasing their tails.

Trust me.

I have it on very good authority.

Well, you'd better be right.

(birds chirping) PROF T: What do you see?

LISA: There's an obvious mistake in the photo, if you look hard enough.

Look more closely.

I am looking closely, Japer.

The belt.

The buckle, it's upside down.

So?

His personnel file confirms he was right-handed.

The logical deduction is that someone else dressed him after he was shot.

The lab report backs it up, Ma'am.

The blood spatter on the clothes is not consistent with them having been worn when the shot was fired.

What is this, Donckers, another puzzle?

What do you smell, Ma'am?

(plastic bag rustling) Detergent, some kind of washing powder.

Precisely so.

PROF T: Well, you saw his flat, Boss.

Hmm.

There is only one person who had access to clean clothes for him.

I'm guessing our tests will show that these are your prints, Nicky.

LISA: It's definitely your husband's blood.

And I can only imagine that we'll have found further traces of it once our search of your property's complete.

You can never wash it all away.

(ominous music) (panicked breathing) DEFENSE ATTORNEY: You're not obliged to comment.

(scoffs) I put up with it... for years and years, barely seeing him.

Having to cope with his mood swings whenever I did.

I had my suspicions, of course, about what he must be getting up to.

(scoffs) But he would always deny it.

(tense music) I guess I just wanted to believe him.

But then on this last job, it was like he just stopped trying to hide it.

(scoffs) He used to come back reeking of sex and cheap perfume.

Of her.

He had the nerve to tell me that he loved her, and that after this latest job, he was just gonna jack it all in, and leaving me.

(high tempo music) After all I'd done for him.

(high tempo music) (drawer opens) (shower curtain swishing) (gun fires) (slow music) It's really that simple.

Case closed.

Apparently so.

(dramatic music) A crime of passion.

Come with me, please.

But by quite another woman.

Thank you, Jasper, really.

Er, the forensic evidence would led you to her soon enough.

I want to apologize.

I should have been more open with you about Simon.

I'm sorry.

Well, I know you don't like him.

But I think for once your instincts are wrong.

He makes me happy.

And in the final analysis, that is all that matters.

(door opens) (door closes) (birds chirping) (taxi door opens) (high tempo music) (tires squeal) Have you got a death wish, pal?

Just an urgent need of transportation.

(taxi door opens) (taxi door closes) I believe the expression is, follow that cab.

Are you taking the piss?

I am not familiar with the idiom, but I do understand the sentiment.

Nevertheless, may we proceed?

(tense music) Stop here.

TAXI DRIVER: Shall I turn off the lights?

That would be most obliging.

(car starts, drives away) (tense music) (van door opens) (van door closes) So, we're on.

When?

Tomorrow night.

What time, where?

Calvin will text you on this phone what you need to know, when you need to know it.

You'll drive Kenny to the handover.

Give him the gun.

And what happens if, um... you know, we get raided?

Trust me, if we were gonna get raided, I'd know about it.

(dog barking) (van door opens) (tense music continues) (van door closes) (phone camera clicking) (birds chirping) I can't thank you enough, Paul, for the way your team has handled this.

Danny's death, it's a massive blow, but, um, it's helped enormously how you've managed to resolve it with such efficiency, so much sensitivity.

You're still on track then?

Oh, yeah.

There's strong intelligence that a major drug smuggling run involving Kenny Holland's lorries is imminent.

There's an extensive surveillance operation underway at the port.

We are going to nail this bastard.

And all the bent cops who are helping him, for Danny's sake.

RABBIT: Good.

(door closes) You're becoming part of the furniture.

I could say the same about you.

You are positively over-familiar with certain members of the team.

Look, I know Christina's told you about us.

I was referring to D.S.

Winters.

Dan?

The two of you seem thick as thieves.

Yeah, we play five aside together, have done for years.

(car driving) (church bell chimes) -Pricey.

-And pretentious.

My mother cannot get enough of it.

Gustav has not seen her for a week.

Reluctantly, I'm coming to the conclusion that this rupture may be more permanent than I had first assumed.

If you love someone, Professor, you always make up in the end.

I'm not sure I agree with that.

I'm not sure I do either.

Dan and I, we're seeing each other, but I think it's over before it even began.

He's just... he's being such a dick.

I'm not even sure I know who he is.

Your instincts are correct.

D.S.

Winters is behaving atypically for his personality type.

What makes you say that?

First there is the patent fallacy of his relationship with D.I.

Lainsborough.

(car doors close) -Please call me Simon.

Who now claims they've been acquainted for some time.

Then there is the fact that he clearly does not wish us to know that he and Mr. Parton are familiars.

LISA: The bar manager?

D.S.

Winters urged for Mr. Parton's release, against your objections.

He was just trying to get back at me.

(ominous music) Then there is this.

What?

Is that Simon?

Most certainly.

I fear our young friend is in grave danger of compromising himself.

No, he, uh...

He's been working private security, to earn extra money to help out his dad.

(high tempo music) (Lisa sighs) Oh, god.

(glove box clicks open) (glove box clicks closed) CHAS: I don't recall.

You're denying that you spoke to D.S.

Winters at the station?

I don't recall.

And you're saying you've never met him previously?

I don't recall.

Are you capable of intelligent thought, Mr. Parton?

Or do you not recall?

Professor?

Miss Kaminska?

I spoke to Tatiana.

She says you're a proper gentleman and you treat her with respect.

And I am equally fond of Miss Leminskya.

Look, um... the man in your photo.

He was here.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

150 percent, look.

He was drinking for several hours with Kenny Holland and this guy called Simon.

(tense music) When was this taken?

On the day you came to tell me that, um... er...that Steve was dead.

And perhaps more pertinently, why did you take it?

I thought maybe they had something to do with what happened to Steve.

Can I send this to myself?

Yeah, sure.

(phone upload confirmation tone) You've been very courageous.

Yeah, well.

(clears throat) Better get back, so.

Miss Kaminska.

Mr. Daniels, he told his wife he was leaving her.

He chose you.

Thank you.

I don't believe it.

Of all people.

It may not be what it seems.

He said he needed the money.

I just...

I didn't think he'd get caught up in something like this.

Idiot.

Why didn't he come to me?

(high tempo music) (car door opens) (crow cawing) (car door closes) All set?

Payment upfront, as agreed.

Doesn't seem quite so much, does it, when it has to stretch three ways.

(envelope rustling) Just two, actually.

You don't trust Calvin's mate?

Well, his background checks out.

He fits the profile, definitely needs the money.

But?

He's expendable.

-Perhaps he should leave.

-I trust him implicitly, Sir.

He's the one who first raised concerns with me.

(sighs) We have Simon Lainsborough under surveillance.

We know about his connections with Kenny Holland.

And, we also know... (drawer opens) why he's taking such an interest in your D.C.I.

Computer records of D.C.I.

Brand's laptop being used to access intel about roadblocks and surveillance operations across a number of neighboring forces.

Intel above his pay grade.

We've been waiting for him and Holland to catch them in the act.

What about D.S.

Winters?

It's too early to say how deeply he's involved.

He's only just come across our radar.

Have you, um, taken this to D.C.I.

Brand?

Her judgment is... compromised.

Yeah, well... We're planning to intercept them tonight.

(phone ringing in background) (birds singing) I wonder if I might have a quick word?

I wonder if you might?

Hmm.

I am close to admitting defeat... in my attempts to contact my mother.

I have called, texted.

Visited all of her known stamping grounds within a five mile radius to no avail.

Even Miss Snares is unable to locate her despite her command of the dark arts.

(playful music) This is the number for that private investigator I told you about.

He specialises in dog-nappings.

I was unaware my mother had been microchipped.

You are familiar to her.

I was wondering whether you might... Have an inkling as to her whereabouts?

Yes, I believe I might.

Hmm.

And whether you might be... Be persuaded to pass on a message?

Rather depends on what it is.

I owe her an explanation.

An apology.

(soft music) So, that is all sorted then?

Leave it with me, Jasper.

Rook to D3.

(sighs) (dramatic music) (phone rings) Professor?

I wonder whether I might have a quick word, Detective Sergeant?

I'm a bit tied up right now.

(van door opens) The raid's going ahead.

D.S.I.

Mercer's let me tag along.

Is that wise, Detective?

I want Dan to see a friendly face when he's arrested.

D.C.I.

Brand agrees.

You- you told Christina?

Yes, everything, I had to, Professor.

Professor?

(dramatic music) (van door closes) BRAND: What the hell do you think you're doing?

What are you talking about?

Talking to my team about me behind my back.

What are you playing at?

I didn't want to have this conversation until the operation was over.

So, what have you got on D.I.

Lainsborough, what have you got on him?

This is his file.

Pretty thick.

Just get on with it, Alf.

Computer records, (gun magazine clicks) top level intel.

He's been accessing it.

He's been hacking your computer, Christina.

And you're completely and utterly compromised.

(gun cocks) (phone beeps) BRAND: I'm still at the office.

Working late.

Why don't you come by when you've finished doing whatever you're doing?

I've got a surprise for you.

-Hm.

-Bye.

(car rumbles past) (dramatic music) (car doors open) (car doors close) (metal box clicks open) (money rustling) Okay.

(metal box slams closed) (high tempo music) Yeah, we're on.

Okay.

(phone clicks closed) (ominous music) Change of plan.

Take out your gun.

(laughs) You're making a mistake here.

I don't think so.

Gun.

-Slowly.

-Oh, right.

Now give me your phone.

Look, I don't know what you think... -(screaming) Give me your phone!

-Alright.

(window winds down) (high tempo music) Bollocks.

Park in beside the yellow van.

Just here.

Okay, get out the car.

(car door opens) (car door opens) (button clicks) (car door closes) (car door closes) (ping) Ah, our agent activated his panic button.

QR to six two, we are status five.

Target located at Dutchman's Lane, repeat, Dutchman's Lane.

Open it.

(van door opens) Open the box.

(box clicks open) What do you think?

Nice, hey?

Okay, get back in the car.

I'll handle this.

Now you keep your mouth shut.

(music crescendo) (men struggling, punching, fighting) Oh!

(pistol whipping) DAN: Argh!

VAN DRIVER: Five minutes to destination, Sir.

(tense music) Welcome, take your pick.

Happy?

Yeah.

(glove compartment clicks open) Armed police!

Drop it!

Go ahead.

What kind of moron do you think I am?

It's empty.

(gun clicking) (gun fire) -Argh!

(police siren wailing) Police, this is the police, put the gun down!

Stand still now!

Put your hand where we can see them!

Slowly step away!

(dramatic music) (people shouting) (Dan breathing heavily) Urgh!

How'd you get here so quick?

Paul's been in on it from the start.

Dan came to me with his suspicions.

I connected him with Alf rather than the boss, for obvious reasons.

You could have told me Dan was undercover.

You would've saved me a lot of worry.

Paul advised me that you mightn't be able to refrain from telling D.C.I.

Brand, I couldn't risk it.

Hmm.

What about D.I.

Lainsborough?

Still haven't located him.

We picked up Calvin in Simon's car.

He must have been worried about surveillance, decided to use his mate as a decoy.

Well, he can't outrun us.

Are you alright?

It's just a nick.

I can't believe you'd think I was on the take.

I can't believe you were keeping me out of the loop on something like this.

Dan, the other night... Oh, look, Lis.

You lied to me.

Yeah, well, so did you, Lis.

I was gonna ask... (soft music) (paper crumpling) -What?

-Nothing.

It doesn't matter.

Dan, I think I need some time.

I think we both do, to work out what we want.

Lis.

POLICEMAN: They're gonna check you over.

Okay.

Look, I...

I'll see you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.

Urgh.

(door knocks) (door opens) SIMON: Hi gorgeous.

-Hey.

-It's all very dark in here.

Is this all part of your big surprise?

You think you are so smart, don't you?

Hmm?

Thought you had everybody fooled.

What are you talking about?

(struggling sounds) (gun rattles) Oh, whoa.

What is this?

What are you doing?

(tense music) Come on, babe, put the gun down.

There's someone much, much smarter than you.

Someone who had you figured from the start.

(Simon scoffs) Oh yeah?

Who's that then?

Your lovesick Professor?

What's he been saying?

That you are a cold-blooded extrovert who exhibits psychopathic tendencies.

Jasper.

(struggling sounds) (gun falls) (thumps) Urgh!

Whoa!

(laughs) (exhales loudly) You don't have the balls, little man.

Go on, go on, pull the trigger.

Pull the trigger!

I am in your debt, Detective Inspector, for showing me what true hostility towards women looks like.

(ominous crescendo) (gun shot) (smacking sound) Urgh!

(dramatic music) How are you feeling, Boss?

(laughs) I'll live, Donckers.

(laughs) Professor Tempest is asking for you.

Hmm, I don't think I could deal with him right now.

You...make something up for me, will you?

Yeah.

Well, go on then, off you go.

You were right, you know, Lisa, telling me about Simon.

It was a difficult call to make.

You made the right choice.

You showed real leadership.

(dramatic music) (door opens) Hi, Professor.

How is D.C.I.

Brand?

Shocked, bruised.

Incredibly grateful.

What about D.I.

Lainsborough?

Still breathing, more's the pity.

D.S.

Winters?

Soon to be coming to terms with the fact he's got to start calling me boss.

I got that promotion.

And me, Detective Inspector?

(dramatic music) You better try to start making yourself feel comfortable.

Rabbit is doing his best, but discharging an unlicensed firearm in a police station... it may be a while before you make bail.

Can I get you anything?

I believe I am entitled to a phone call.

(phone ringing) (door opens) This is all a bit cloak and dagger, isn't it, Adelaide?

Well, you'd better get used to it, Wilfred, because this is how it's going to be between us from now on.

I knew that therapy was a bad idea.

For Jasper?

For us, you fool.

Now that he's been disabused of his mistaken beliefs about his father's suicide, he's gonna start... -Being a bit happier?

Digging up things best left buried.

(dramatic music) Uncovering the truth, Wilfred.

And that's not good news now, is it?

No, not for those of us who know what really happened.