The next generation of bright,
shiny new things.
When are you going to contribute
to the gene pool, Mac?
This is my contribution,
Professor.
May I remind you
gentlemen, and ladies,
the Medical Prize examination
is this afternoon at 2pm sharp.
Very sharp.
We have, alas,
a depressingly young subject
for our final revision lecture
on human musculature
and articulation.
Female, 32 years of age,
cause of death,
post-natal hemorrhage.
It's Professor Katz.
BOY: Beatrice?
Where're you going, Beatrice?
Betty Boo?
Wait for us. Look at her go.
Poor Prof.
Eh? Beatrice?
It's on! It's on!
Back off!
- Any idea what happened?
- There was a mix up.
My senior students
asked for revision
so I went down to the furnace
this morning
to retrieve what I thought
was a 32-year-old woman.
It turned out to be
Professor Katz instead.
He was well respected
in the fraternity,
if a little eccentric.
He knew his medicine inside out.
Hello, Jack.
I didn't realize you were
on this case, Miss Fisher.
Likewise.
- I could have left it to you.
- No, you couldn't.
I called you both in because
I want you to work together.
I need this case solved.
Phryne Fisher,
Professor Bradbury.
Dean of Medicine
and Head of Jude's College.
Delighted to meet any man who
can inspire Elizabeth MacMillan.
Pity the occasion is so tragic.
You said Professor Katz
was left in the holding annex
of the furnace.
Who would have had access?
Apart from the staff, we kept
a key in the cabinet over there.
It's missing.
I'd appreciate it if you could
assemble your senior students
for some
preliminary questioning.
Yes, of course.
Just a minute.
What's going on?
I need to know his routine,
who was last seen with him--
With you and Jack Robinson.
- That might take a while.
- The short version.
He had a nasty scare.
Thought I'd killed myself
in a car accident.
Now he thinks
I'm too much trouble.
- You are.
- So he's running scared.
Coward.
Macabre turn of events,
Inspector.
But the only one that isn't here
is the one
you should be talking to.
And who's that?
Beatrice Mason.
Mad as a March hare.
I'm happy to start with you,
Mr Oliver.
Me? I may have glued a wig
to Paracelsus's bust,
but even I wouldn't pull
something like this.
And I certainly wouldn't have
killed the old coot first.
So you're Professor Bradbury's
research assistant?
Yes, his field of specialization
is Anthropometry,
the study of human proportions.
- Measuring people?
- More or less.
Whenever you're ready,
Mr Street.
Where could I find Professor
Katz's office?
- Far end of the east wing.
- Thank you.
Inspector. I thought you had
students to interrogate.
I have men to help with that.
Then I fear we're headed
for the same destination.
I'll keep my distance.
Why don't you walk
two steps behind?
I need the book.
I'm Katz's research assistant.
I have all my notes
but I still need the book.
Can you please let me in?
This office is now
part of a police investigation.
Detective Inspector Robinson.
We're here on police business.
Can you let me get into there
so I can get the book, please?
- I can't work without it.
- Excuse me, Miss--
(screams)
Don't touch me.
Phryne Fisher.
Lady Detective. Why do we need
the police as well?
That's a very good question,
Miss...?
Mason. Beatrice.
If you could just step aside,
please, Miss Mason?
Professor Katz didn't
allow anyone in his office
when he wasn't present.
Given that Katz
is no longer with us,
perhaps his rules
no longer apply.
The Inspector is here
to look after his interests.
If you could just stay
with Constable Collins, please.
Thank you.
Looks like
we just missed somebody.
That picture's crooked.
Miss! Miss! Miss, Miss!
Miss! Miss!
That's where
Katz locked up his book.
It must have
been extremely valuable.
The Book of Hours
of Juana the Mad.
It's a 16th-century
illustrated manuscript.
It was Katz's most prized
possession,
but he... he locked it up
because we disagreed.
About what?
He said he found it
in a monastery in Catalonia,
but I found modern restorations,
altered text and new ink.
I think that's why
he was mad at me.
It's a rotation combination,
and Katz liked to change it
every day.
Geoffrey Spall,
College Treasurer.
And the safe, Mr Spall?
I warned Katz it was merely
an analogue problem,
easily surmounted by
the most amateur mathematician.
Perhaps I can help.
I'm not a mathematician,
Mr Spall,
but I have mastered
the art of listening...
...very closely.
Two tumblers... shifting...
and... falling...
and...
open sesame.
The Book of Hours.
Where's the rest?
It's empty.
Miss...
Beatrice?
Are you alright?
It's too much.
Too many people.
People are confusing.
Yes, they are.
What's that?
More blood.
BEATRICE: Oh, the splashes
are getting larger.
So whoever was leaving them
was going towards the office
rather than away from it.
Inspector!
They keep going.
It's still not a lot of blood,
given the method of murder.
Now... these would be
extremely sharp.
- Collins!
- BEATRICE: There are more!
- Sir?
- I want this area roped off.
- Eugh!
- We need the blood for testing.
Then come and sort out
that young girl.
Yes, sir. Uh!
If you'd could just
wait there please, Mr Spall.
This must be where it happened.
Somehow the body went from here
to the anatomy furnace.
To be burned at nine o'clock
in the morning.
If not for Dr MacMillan needing
a cadaver at short notice,
Katz would have disappeared off
the face of the earth.
After he was exsanguinated,
into the garden.
That's my clinical observation.
Right here.
Ah, Miss Mason, if...
If you'd just like to step away.
Perhaps we could find somewhere
for you to clean your shoes.
Oh.
Jack?
Good catch.
Just in here will be fine.
The Vice Dean's away
on a sabbatical.
Is there anyone we can call?
She'd be happier at home.
No, no, no, it's fine. It's
happened before. She'll recover.
Hugh, you might like to do
something with these.
Sir, Professor Bradbury's asked
to see you in the dining room.
- And file this as evidence.
- Yes, sir.
I might just go hunt down
a pot of tea.
You might like to follow
that young man first, Collins.
Charlie Street?
Yes. See what he just slipped
into his pocket.
- How did I get here?
- You fainted.
Oh, my things. Wh-who...
Who touched my blanket?
And... and there was blood.
There was blood on my skin!
It's alright. It's fine.
It's gone now.
Everything's fine.
- Don't be afraid, it's dead.
- They're always dead.
I'm not afraid.
I just feel bad for the rats.
How often
does this happen, Beatrice?
Whenever Oliver feels like it.
There's no pattern.
Can you pass me a bin, please?
Where do you live, Beatrice?
I leased a flat in Carlton,
but I had to vacate.
Why?
They said I started a fire
in the kitchen
because I left
the oven on, but I didn't.
And women aren't allowed to
reside at the college, are they?
No. But sometimes I lie down
here and close my eyes.
It's better this way.
It allows me more time
for my research and...
And it's further away from the
street, so no one can watch me.
Who would be watching you?
I've never seen them.
Good God.
These Katana were a gift to
the college from the Japanese.
The most brilliant
mathematicians.
Turned out to be a much more
practical gift than intended.
Spall said the safe
was completely empty?
That's right.
Any idea what Professor Katz
kept in there?
Well, I know he had the exhibit
for the half yearly exam.
He'd put the skull in there
for safe keeping.
He locked up a skull?
You're not in short supply.
Well, I realize
they may all look the same
to your womanly gaze,
Miss Fisher,
but I assure you
they're completely different.
The students have to make
clinical judgments
based on the pathology
of a particular skull.
I can give you
the catalogue number.
PHRYNE: "Alas, poor Yorick."
Luckily Hamlet wasn't a woman,
or he might not have
recognized him.
It's engraved on the base of the
skull near the lower left jaw.
So Katz was worried
about your students cheating,
so he locked up the skull?
I agree it's ridiculous,
but this exam will decide
the winner of the Medical Prize.
It's more critical than most.
And some of our students'
whole lives
depend upon
their academic performance.
- Like who?
- Mr Street, for one.
Yes, Mr Street will struggle
more than some students.
None of his family are educated.
Dock workers, I believe.
And the college supports
the cost of his... his degree.
Charlie Street?
Your research assistant,
I believe?
Surprisingly bright,
though somewhat erratic,
especially of late.
Stop! Stop, Mr Street.
Pick it up.
Inspector Robinson
will be very interested
to hear your story, Mr Street.
Down at the station.
I don't mind you walking in
front occasionally, Inspector,
though behind
would be more gallant.
What if I was attacked
by sword-wielding
Japanese mathematicians?
You wouldn't know what happened
to my constable by any chance?
Didn't he follow you, Inspector?
I know Dr MacMillan
is an old friend,
but it would be easier
if you left me to investigate.
Without me?
What about the safe?
You couldn't have opened that.
- Not as easily.
- Or the blood trail.
- Not as quickly.
- And Hugh? I helped--
Helped what?
You really want me to go?
I don't want you to go.
I need you to go.
- Please go home.
- Very well.
Sayonara!
Beatrice. How are you feeling?
Much better now.
Good. Because I have to leave.
And I was hoping to
invite you home with me.
- Do you have any rats?
- Not dead ones.
Could I bring all my own things?
My research papers, my notes,
and my own food?
- Of course.
- And the page from the book?
I'm sure we can
work something out.
I'll consider it.
PHRYNE: Any sign
of our house guest, Dot?
No, Miss. I thought
that might have been her,
but it was just someone passing.
I hope she's not lost.
I gave her
very precise directions.
Beatrice doesn't strike me
as someone who forgets.
- Beatrice.
- I came in the rear door.
I was beginning to think we
should send out a search party.
I was concerned
I was being followed.
And were you?
Not that I'm aware of.
But I have to be careful.
I don't know you.
Ah, this is my companion,
Miss Dorothy Williams.
Dot, meet Miss Beatrice Mason.
Hello.
Would you like some tea? I've
got some fresh baked scones too.
No.
Thank you.
I only eat jam sandwiches.
So why would anyone
be following you, Beatrice?
It's... it's about
The Book of Hours.
Whoever it is, they want it.
But I don't understand.
The book is missing.
Perhaps they think I took it.
I had the book before
Professor Katz locked it up.
That's when they ransacked
my flat.
- Did you see them?
- No.
But I knew they'd been there.
Things had been moved.
Then they started leaving notes.
- Did you keep any of them?
- No.
They were burnt
when the kitchen caught fire.
Luckily my books were alright.
You can't touch them
without gloves.
Please.
But you look like a uh...
a careful person, Miss Williams.
- Thank you.
- She is. She's very careful.
Katz knew to wear gloves.
He liked old books, like me.
He shared my interest
in diseases of the mind.
He didn't think Juana was mad.
Katz agreed with me.
Katz ... I wish he wasn't gone.
How did you come by the key
to the furnace room?
You must understand
how this compromises you.
Professor Katz's body was left
to be incinerated last night.
I didn't have anything to do
with Katz. You have no proof.
But we have proof
you were attempting to dispose
of evidence, Mr Street.
Constable Collins,
charge Mr Charlie Street
with being
an accessory to a murder.
- Take him down to the cells.
- Yes, sir.
And we'll have to inform
Professor Bradbury
so I hope it won't affect
your future at Jude's College.
Alright, I found it.
Well, you need to tell us where.
A night in the cells
might loosen his tongue.
The key was with
Beatrice's things.
And I'm sure she
had no idea it was there.
- So who put it there?
- Well, I didn't see him do it.
But he's been
tormenting Beatrice
ever since she arrived
at the college.
Amos Oliver.
If you're so sure, why didn't
you mention this earlier?
Oliver's the golden boy
of this department.
His father won the Medical
Prize, his father before him,
and nobody wants to see him
get into trouble.
Katz was trying to have him
expelled for cheating.
Look what happened to him.
Oh, you've been busy.
These notes are the words
that accompany
the illuminations in the book,
but I haven't finished.
If you know your Bible you'll be
familiar with the iconography.
St John, the Tower of Babel,
Moses and the burning bush.
I haven't done the rest
of the Passion Cycle yet.
Of course.
I know all those stories.
But my Latin isn't very good.
That's not relevant, Dorothy.
You see how
some letters are in red,
but on every third page,
the letters have been changed
from black to red.
The new ink is... is...
is inorganic.
Less than 100 years old.
What do you think it all means,
Beatrice?
I don't know. But perhaps
they'll leave me alone now.
If they're the ones
that robbed the safe.
Unless they want
this missing page.
Who else knows you made
all these notes?
I showed Katz,
before he confiscated the book.
The book is beautiful.
Beyond words.
The colors are as...
as bright as jewels.
It shouldn't be out there
in the world.
I'll make sure
we find that book, Beatrice.
(thud)
Mr Butler?
Mr Butler! Mr Butler.
- He's still alive.
- I should hope so.
So sorry, Miss.
I'll be there shortly.
I concur with my budding
colleague here.
No nausea, no stomach cramps,
no signs of any rashes.
- I'd say nothing toxic.
- Thank goodness.
Just a heavy dose
of sleeping pills.
- Back to bed now, Mr B.
- Yes, Miss. At once.
Oh, leave him, Dot.
He's not going anywhere.
I'll get back to my work.
We suspect this is the culprit.
- Beatrice's jam?
- A gift, apparently.
Left anonymously
in her pigeonhole yesterday.
From someone who knows her well.
Beatrice likes labels.
Beatrice may seem impervious
to the harassment she suffers,
but I'm sure it takes its toll.
Is that all it is, do you think?
Harassment?
Well, I know that half
of the faculty
would rather see
her student placement
go to a deserving,
well bred young man
from the right side
of the tracks.
But she'll make a damn good
research doctor.
She's dispassionate, clinical.
Beatrice is very particular
about certain things.
The order she carries out
a dissection,
the way she organizes her notes,
being touched.
But she doesn't imagine things.
She's not crazy.
She is volatile.
She doesn't strike me
as being violent.
No. She was furious with Katz,
though,
when he locked away that book.
Are you suggesting...
No, I'm not suggesting
she'd hurt him.
But if she did,
she certainly wouldn't
lie about it.
We know Professor Katz was
trying to have you expelled,
and I imagine your family
have great expectations
of your medical career.
You think I'd murder Katz
for that?
I'm not sure.
Perhaps it was
to cheat on your examination
by stealing that skull.
Have you seen my results?
Ask Professor Bradbury
what kind of a doctor I'll make.
It's in my blood.
But the Medical Prize
examination
wasn't being held by
Professor Bradbury this year.
Professor Katz
was conducting it.
Have I mentioned
my uncle is a Queen's counsel?
Good to cover
all the professions.
What were you doing
last night?
I was in my room all night.
And I have a witness,
though I'm not sure
how reliable she is.
I thought that sort of thing
was frowned on by the college.
It wasn't my idea, Inspector.
Miss Beatrice Mason
came to harass me again.
The girl
is clearly a nymphomaniac.
Claimed I'd invited her.
Patently ridiculous.
Though she was amorous,
and a man can only take so much
of a woman
throwing herself at him.
Afterwards, she slept
on my divan. Ask her yourself.
Thank you, Mr Oliver.
I'll do that.
That's terrible, Dottie.
Yes, we'll look into it for you.
Thank you. Goodbye for now.
Not enough work
to keep you busy?
Found Miss Mason's whereabouts
yet?
We need to retrieve
our stolen evidence.
I believe she's no longer
at the college, sir.
Do you have her address?
Yes, but you won't like it.
- You mean last night?
- Yes.
And I'd rather conduct this
questioning down at the station,
if you would like to
accompany me, Miss Mason.
No. I like it here.
- Thank you.
- Yeah.
The answer
to your question is yes.
I spent the
night in Mr Oliver's room.
- What time did you arrive?
- At five past six o'clock.
And you can confirm you were
both there the entire night?
I was.
I wanted to return
to my research,
but my evening
didn't go to plan.
Oliver claims you seduced him.
That's strange.
I don't recall that.
Beatrice,
what exactly do you recall?
I remember arriving,
and Oliver seemed
happy to see me.
He was smiling a lot.
I ... I asked him
if could lie down for a bit.
I was so tired
I could hardly speak.
Why did you go to Oliver's room,
Beatrice?
Mr Spall said
Oliver had invited me.
It's polite to accept
an invitation.
I've had to learn to be polite.
He said that Oliver
wanted to apologize.
But then he killed another rat.
I don't understand that.
- Can I go now?
- Yes.
After you've returned that page
of The Book of Hours.
That won't be possible,
Inspector.
It's part of my research.
Beatrice wouldn't have
seduced Oliver.
Miss Mason
doesn't like to be touched,
let alone ravished
by a man like Oliver.
Mr Oliver
is doing what he does best.
Making trouble.
But if Beatrice were drugged,
perhaps his motives
were more sinister.
Like taking advantage of her?
Or providing Oliver
with an alibi
for the night of Katz's death.
I know that you are
more than capable
of handling this murder
investigation without me.
But you might like
to test this blackberry jam.
Thank you.
Oh, Miss.
Oh, no. Oh no,
they've taken all my notes.
- Who?
- Whoever owns this.
- Who would take them?
- This reeks of tobacco.
Sweetly spiced with vanilla.
Pipe tobacco.
Who do you know
that smokes a pipe, Beatrice?
Were you aware of any
relationship between Mr Oliver
and Beatrice Mason, Mr Spall?
I'm sure Oliver has no shortage
of female admirers.
But if you're saying she spent
the night in Oliver's room,
that is a very
troubling confession.
Even more troubling
if she was drugged.
Sorry Inspector,
your constable gave you away.
We're in the middle
of an interview, Miss Fisher.
As I was saying,
Miss Mason is well aware
that spending a night
in the male dorms
is against all
college regulations.
Apart from matters
of moral decency.
- Don't mind me.
- But I do.
Oh, that's right.
But you should know
we had an intruder last night
who tried to strangle
Beatrice, stole her notes
and left me with a very bruised
ribcage and a souvenir kerchief.
It smells of tobacco,
a very distinctive pipe tobacco.
I believe Mr Spall
smokes a pipe.
I believe I'm not the only man
to take up the habit.
Do you have your pipe handy?
May I?
Mmm. Vanilla.
So, where were you last night,
Mr Spall?
I was here until late,
going through the accounts.
- Who do you have--
- How serious was the friction
between yourself
and Beatrice Mason?
There were times when I needed
to see Katz on serious matters,
and that young woman
barred my way.
She's odd, full of fanciful
ideas. Anyone can see that.
Why did you get Katz
to confiscate the book--
What kind of serious matters?
College enrolments are down,
and Katz' insistence on
educating the working classes
wasn't doing our finances
any good at all.
Whereas the missing and
extremely valuable Book of Hours
would be a great help.
You're right, Miss Fisher.
That manuscript
was Katz' pride and joy
and contributed great prestige
to the college.
So I'd concentrate on tracking
down poor Katz' murderer
and finding the manuscript,
rather than
interrogating someone
who has the university's
best interests at heart.
Now if you're both done
with your questions,
I'd like to be dismissed.
Of course.
Thank you, Mr Spall.
Excuse me... Pardon me.
Professor Bradbury would like
to see you in the anatomy labs.
- Thank you, Collins.
- You can't let that--
And I would like Spall's office
searched now.
- What was that, Miss Fisher?
- Nothing for the moment.
Hello, Hugh. They wouldn't be
Mr Spall's things, would they?
I'm just taking them
to the Inspector.
- Oh, I am so sorry, Hugh.
- Miss!
Here, let me help you with that.
All my fault, Inspector.
I must watch where I'm going.
We can manage the rest,
Miss Fisher.
I'm sure you can,
but this looks interesting.
It describes
each of the college staff.
Professor Bradbury,
Professor Katz,
even Mac gets a mention.
Looks like some kind
of confidential dossier.
Intelligence gathering, perhaps?
I'll examine it more closely
before coming to
any conclusions, thank you.
Assuming Spall is lying
and he did drug Beatrice
and he was after
The Book of Hours,
perhaps it wasn't
about money at all?
Perhaps the book had
some other kind of significance?
Geoffrey Spall,
Pure Mathematics at Oxford,
wireless operator
with the British Admiralty,
Naval Cryptographer.
What does that all mean, sir?
It certainly doesn't make him
more likeable, Collins,
but it looks to me like
Mr Spall was a code breaker.
So military intelligence?
Possibly. With these notes
on his colleagues,
their politics, marital status,
comings and goings.
He's gathering information
for someone.
And the results
on that sedative in the jam,
it's a drug called scopolamine.
It's not very widely known,
but it's been used
to extract information.
Like a truth serum?
So you're saying he's a spy,
with the Secret Service?
Don't get too excited, Collins.
Since the war ended,
most intelligence work
is sitting behind a desk,
opening foreign mail.
Beatrice. You said there was
a pattern in the book.
- Yes, the alterations.
- What kind of alterations?
They were every third page.
That's where the new ink was,
in the calligraphy.
- Well, how could you tell?
- Ah, spectral analysis.
I used a Bunsen burner.
But if you looked closely,
you could tell.
Do you think there could be some
kind of meaning in the changes?
Some message, perhaps?
Katz bought the book
after the war.
Books were often used
to secret papers, money.
Well, I copied them down.
- But your notes were stolen.
- Before that.
I wrote out just
the letters that were odd
and made a list of them.
- Where is it?
- In my textbook.
Fascinating development,
Inspector.
Professor Spall is a spy.
It's only a theory
at this stage.
So, would you like something
to add to it or not?
At what price, Miss Fisher?
The usual, Inspector.
You're chasing rainbows.
That means nothing to me.
You can't deny your association
with the British military.
Why would I? I was proud
to serve my country.
How do you explain the dossier
you kept on your colleagues?
My confidential files
are exactly that.
I can write
whatever I like in them.
Katz changed the combination
on his safe daily
because he was afraid
that you would break into it.
- I could have done that easily.
- But you didn't need to.
Until Beatrice started finding
anomalies in The Book of Hours.
This is nonsense.
Then when Katz locked it up
she decided to guard his office,
and you had to drug her
to get her out of the way.
This is all unsubstantiated.
Interrogate the Mason woman.
She's the one
who wanted the book so badly.
Who knows what she'd have done
to get it?
- Sir, do you mind--
- Not now, Collins.
Are you accusing her
of Professor Katz's murder?
She may have had help.
That Charlie Street fellow
and her were thick as thieves.
But you've been through
my things, Inspector.
You know that the Dean
was seriously concerned
that she's mentally defective.
- It's not just my opinion.
- Sir...
Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm late for a meeting
of the college board.
Excuse me, sir,
would you mind if...
The more I know of that man,
the less I like him.
MAC: I suspect
they've become bored with it.
The Medical Prize exam
has been foiled
and they've clearly run out of
ways to make a mockery of that.
Here's the category number
Bradbury gave to me.
Thank you.
- Are you sure?
- Yeah.
The numbers match the skull but
I don't recognize this system.
I'm going to take this
back to the lab
and make sure
its the skull we're after.
There may have been a mix up.
I don't understand it, sir.
I thought
the students were here
to learn how to cure
diseases and help people.
Hello, Mr Street. How are your
studies progressing?
Thank you for taking Bea in.
I couldn't budge her myself.
It was the promise of finding
her book that was the lure.
I'm late for a lecture.
I must dash.
You're the one?
Hand it over, now. All of it.
- I haven't got anything.
- Give me the book!
- It's not yours.
- Now, I said!
Over here, Spall!
Glad your
timing's not off, Inspector.
- Thank you, Collins.
- Sir.
What's so important
about that book, Mr Spall,
that you'd shoot a man?
You're out of your depth.
Katz' killer is still out there.
- I didn't put it there.
- So how did you know it was?
- I didn't.
- Right place, right time?
I got a note this morning.
- Who was it from?
- I don't know.
It's anonymous, but I wanted
to keep it for Beatrice.
"Look where the old coot died."
Old coot?
And I certainly wouldn't killed
the old coot first.
Oliver used those exact words
to describe Professor Katz.
I need to telephone my uncle.
He's on his way.
Why did you steal the book?
It can't have been
just to torment Beatrice,
if it meant killing a man
to get it.
I didn't kill Katz.
I didn't care about the book.
I only used it
to get back at Charlie.
If you didn't kill Katz, how did
you end up with the book?
I was after the skull.
So how did you go about it?
No, you've got it all wrong.
When Beatrice turned up
that night expecting an apology,
I thought it was Katz' doing.
So I went to have it out with
him after Beatrice fell asleep.
And then I saw the skull
and I knew I'd be tested on it.
Everything was just sitting
on his desk.
I knew how valuable
that book was
and how much it meant to Katz.
I just grabbed everything.
Beatrice became your alibi, even
though she could be expelled.
And you tried to pin the blame
on Charlie Street.
OLIVER: He shouldn't be in
a place like this.
Neither should Beatrice.
This college has a history,
a reputation.
They just don't belong.
Tell me something, Mr Oliver.
If you're so brilliant,
how did you get caught?
No matter how much money
or education
is wasted on your pea-brained
intellect, Mr Oliver,
your failure to appreciate
the brilliance
of a mind like Beatrice Mason's
will always render you
a complete imbecile.
JACK: If these were all
the letters from the book--
Assuming it's in English and
we're dealing with the Allies.
And mostly phonetic
and omitting most of the vowels.
What about this part here?
Double agents.
And the first letters
can be names.
- Williams.
- And Cabot? French.
JACK: No, that's Corbett.
Williams and Corbett, airmen.
Reportedly went down in
the Battle of Arras, April 1917.
And both received
posthumous bravery awards.
But this code implies
an altogether different fate.
PLP. Pulp?
JACK: Code for assassination.
JACK: How did we do, Mr Spall?
The war was a long time ago,
Inspector.
So you don't think
anyone will be interested
that two supposed heroes
were murdered
by their own side for treachery?
The Bureau will deny
all knowledge.
Of the book. Of me.
So you murdered Katz
for an invisible master.
I would have, once.
But you're wrong.
It wasn't until
I heard Katz was dead
that I made my attempt
on the manuscript.
The spilled water.
Think he's telling the truth,
sir?
Well, if he is, and Oliver's
theft was merely opportunist,
who does that leave, Collins?
JACK: Good afternoon, Sir Basil.
Yes, that's right, sir.
Ah, Mr Geoffrey Spall.
Ah, well we're questioning him
now, sir.
Well, no sir, I...
Well, yes sir,
I understand that but--
Looks like we'll be releasing
Mr Spall immediately.
Really, sir?
So maybe he's doing just--
- Get on with it, Collins.
- Yes, sir.
Oh and Dr MacMillan
telephoned earlier.
She needs to see you
and Miss Fisher at the college.
This skull
has certainly been around.
The numbering here is American.
That's because
it's from Hartley University.
So how did it end up being the
subject of your medical exam?
It wasn't meant for an exam.
Professor Katz
was just keeping it safe.
- From what?
- From whom is the question.
Mac. Miss Fisher.
- What a lovely surprise.
- I hope you don't mind.
I need an expert opinion
on some human remains.
Mac and I
just can't seem to agree.
Well, you'd be hard
pressed to find a finer mind
than Elizabeth MacMillan's.
Unless it were a man's.
That skull is an aberration.
It undermines
a lifetime of research
I am finally going to present
to the national symposium.
I told Charlie Street
to incinerate it.
But he gave it
to Professor Katz instead.
Katz? Katz!
Katz!
You certainly lost control of
your well-bred mind, didn't you?
He asked for it,
that vindictive little man.
So you killed him.
But when you came back,
your skull had gone.
Along with "The Book of Hours."
So you planted the key
in Beatrice Mason's things,
so you could blame your murder
on a madwoman.
A small sacrifice to make.
Modern medicine should promote
only the best traits
of the human race.
And what would modern medicine
do to Beatrice Mason?
Prevent her from breeding,
of course.
Like this woman?
An American Negress?
The kind of woman you believe
has an under-developed
and inferior brain?
Except this skull
belongs to the first Negro woman
to graduate with Honors
from Hartley University.
The skull is a hoax.
It's a lie, I tell you!
You're under arrest, Professor.
- What are you doing?
- What we do best, Jack.
And I'm afraid I'm going to have
to touch you.
Hold it right there!
"Highly opinionated,
revolutionary tendencies
and suspect associates."
I think Spall
summed you up nicely.
I never liked that man.
But I did admire
Professor Bradbury.
If Bradbury's research
was all about race
and gender superiority,
why did he encourage a woman?
Procreation.
Bradbury's running joke
was asking me
when I was going to settle down
and raise a family.
Intelligent women
do have their uses, Inspector.
MAC: The medical faculty's
been decimated.
They've expelled Oliver and his
father's money along with him.
What about Beatrice Mason?
Inaugural recipient of
the Fisher Research Scholarship.
So between Beatrice
and Charlie Street,
our reputation
should be salvaged.
Otherwise I will have to
go out and procreate
with the nearest
brilliant white male.
Don't worry, Inspector.
That won't happen in a hurry.
Although you would be
my first choice.
So what kind of partners are we
from here on in, Jack?
What's our safe distance?
Two steps behind,
two steps in front?
Perhaps a do-si-do?
- I think we're more of a waltz.
- Not a tango?
A good waltz is slow and close.
I'll try to stay in step,
all the same.
♪ I found out that I love you ♪
♪ And I thought
you loved me too ♪
♪ You were only
passing time with me ♪
♪ Many happy hours we spent ♪
♪ I thought
you were heaven sent ♪
♪ You were only
passing time with me ♪
♪ I remember
all the things you told me ♪
♪ And the way
you used to kiss and hold me ♪
♪ When you said
you'd always care ♪
♪ I thought
you were playing fair ♪
♪ You were only
passing time with me ♪