This is you.
Take care now.
##
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ You can trust in me ♪
♪ Mighty good man ♪
♪ As good as can be ♪
♪ They say I'm handsome ♪
♪ And I'm reliable, too ♪
♪ 'Cause you were made for me, and, baby, I was made for you ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
##
♪ Mmmm yeah ♪
♪ Ohhh yeah ♪
♪ Mmmm yeah ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
##
♪ Oh, yes I am ♪
♪ Listen, while I look for silver ♪
♪ You can have gold ♪
♪ I ain't too young ♪
♪ And baby I ain't too old ♪
♪ I'm a humble man ♪
♪ And I'm always true ♪
♪ That you were made for me and baby I was made for you ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ Mighty good man ♪
♪ Good man ♪
♪ Mighty good man ♪
♪ Go ahead, play it now ♪
##
♪ And I like the way ♪
♪ You smile at me ♪
♪ I guess you like it ♪
♪ Everything you see ♪
##
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ A mighty good man ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ A mighty good man ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ Mighty good man ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ A mighty good man ♪
♪ I'm a good man ♪
♪ A mighty good man ♪
##
The Sunne Rising annual pitch and putt
traditionally takes places
on August Monday bank holiday.
But no one's actually bothered to book the course,
so we may have to push it till September.
Which actually suits me down to the ground, ma'am,
because, erm, rain and squalls--
I thrive in pitch and putt in those conditions.
You're very chatty this morning.
Oh, sorry, ma'am.
Wine last night?
Mm. Red.
Always leaves my head a bit fuzzy.
Well, at least you were home all night, so no damage done.
Ah, there's never any damage.
How do you know I was home all night?
Well, ma'am, you always report drinking red wine at home
and white wine when you're dining out.
Yeah. Red wine home. White wine out.
Took me and the boyfriend ages to realise why we did that.
Yeah, er, red wine at home so that you don't
have to keep popping backwards and forwards to the fridge.
Yeah.
Very good.
Blue lips, swollen.
Yeah.
Not the first time I've seen that.
Pathology will have to confirm but it looks like
ligature strangulation.
On a busy bus, ma'am?
Well, a few seconds is all you need
to render him unconscious.
Five kilograms worth of pressure to be exact.
Well, you need a lot more pressure and time
to cut off the windpipe, and cause brain death.
Ma'am, this is the number 6 bus.
It's one of the most popular in Bath.
Especially in the rush hour.
For someone to have killed this man,
well, he would have had to have done it in the blink of an eye.
And even then, nobody saw it.
Monthly bus pass. Ian Andrews.
Bit of cash...
...and bank card...
and this completely blank.
I'll get it to tech services.
See what that magnetic strip tells us.
Here we are-- Ian James Andrews,
age 33, divorced, various jobs.
He looks familiar.
I think you're right, ma'am.
Lives at 14 Saltmarsh Street, Larkhall.
Well now that is-- that is near the...
that's the point of the start of this bus' journey.
Yeah. Larkhall terminus. There.
First on at Larkhall terminus every morning.
Weekends too.
He gets on, he pays,
he takes a paper, and he goes upstairs
to the front left seat.
And where does he normally get off?
Bath Spa station.
And did you, erm, run to timetable this morning?
As best as I could.
But there's roadworks everywhere.
You know, three or four diversions.
The bus should have a GPS system.
It's on a hard drive in the office, mate.
If we can access the stored data,
it should give us accurate times and locations.
Did anything odd happen between here and Larkhall?
- What do you mean? - Anyone acting suspiciously?
Nobody that looked like...
they'd do what was done to that guy.
He's unemployed and on benefits,
where was he going every day?
Seven days a week?
Wearing a suit.
Right, Ian Andrews was strangled to death on a bus
that was going through the city centre at rush hour?
And nobody saw a thing? How come?
Get on to local media, radio stations, Bath live app,
appealing for anyone who was on the number six
between 8 and 9 a.m. this morning.
And start looking at CCTV for every bus stop on the route.
Let's reconstruct Ian Andrews' final bus journey.
"Ian Andrews-- divorced two years ago,
ex-wife and kids live in New Zealand,
no other living relatives."
##
Ma'am?
##
Money, ma'am.
US Dollars? 200 there.
And I reckon there's about, well...
20,000 in there.
Look at that. Some sort of ticket stub.
The Brits and The Blues.
A Masterclass with Professor Clarence Adderly.
It's dated from yesterday.
The Avalon Festival of Ideas.
- Festival of ideas? - Yeah.
They-- They call it the Glastonbury of politics,
philosophy, and literature.
Er, it's a sort of...
intellectual shindig.
Takes place every year over at Compton Dando.
"Clarence Adderly--
Emeritus Professor of US History
at the Virginia Commonwealth University."
Careful with the screen, I've set it to sensitive.
"Specialising in the American Civil War."
But... But, oh no, he's British.
Born in Liverpool.
He is also a leading authority on the blues and its history.
My dad was into that stuff.
When I was growing up, after a few shandies
he'd always sit us down and make us listen to the blues.
In 2021, Professor Adderly
published the first volume
of his definitive three-part history of the blues.
##
As our riff travels North from the Delta,
propelled by the singular,
authentic voice of Robert Johnson,
it becomes hardened by the urban, industrial experience.
The blues becomes electrified
and the torch passes from Muddy Waters
to players like B.B. King,
who shifts the guitar from rhythm to lead.
When this is heard by John Mayall, Alexis Korner,
Keith Richards...
...However our riff doesn't atrophy.
Because it's developed and improvised
upon by the likes of Jimmy Page, Peter Green, and Eric Clapton.
♪ Tell my friend boy Willie Brown ♪
♪ I'm standing at the crossroads ♪
♪ Believe I'm sinking down ♪
No. Sorry.
His name's Ian Andrews, he was found this morning,
dead under suspicious circumstances.
- Okay. - The only lead we have
is this ticket stub for your talk yesterday.
We also found 20,000 US dollars hidden under the bed.
I don't know what to say.
Sure. We just have to follow every available lead.
Sorry, this is just routine professor,
but can you confirm where you were this morning
between 8 and 9 a.m.?
I'm a happily married man.
I love my wife, I love my kids, grandkids
But this morning at 8 a.m.,
I was with someone else.
Can we have a name?
No. She's married and, er...
Sorry, I'm a gentleman.
Does your wife know that?
Joan? Clarence.
Yeah.
No, I'm-- I'm having a ball, really.
Yeah. Look. Listen.
Is, erm... Is Mr. Ambassador available?
Great, I'll hold.
Lot 124.
A very desirable miniature Georgian carriage clock.
Gold. Shall we start the bidding?
At £3,000? 3,100, madam.
3,200. 3,300.
3,400. 3,500 with you, madam.
3,500. Do we have 3,600?
£3,660.
Sold! For £3,660 to the lady at the front.
Thank you.
Ugh! We could have got 4k.
It sold 25% over the reserve.
The bank won't extend Daddy's credit.
I'm on a streak.
We're good.
We're really good.
Aren't we?
##
It breathes with the years.
And we do have a sale, don't we?
Mm.
##
Okay, I have to handle
a Community Impact Assessment,
to reassure our stakeholders,
it's safe to use public transport.
And it would really help if I could mean it
when I said that we are making significant progress.
So, our victim had a public profile.
I thought he looked familiar, ma'am.
So, five years ago, Ian Andrews
singled handedly foiled an armed robbery
over in Bristol in a betting shop where he worked.
He was all over the tele, the papers for months after.
The crew he foiled, they're all still in prison.
But it doesn't mean we can rule them out as far
as commissioning the crime.
And why in public on a bus?
And why didn't anyone notice?
We don't know yet, but we've narrowed it down.
So, whoever killed Ian Andrews
must have known that he was a creature of habit.
Every morning, at 8 a.m., seven days a week,
he'd board the number 6 bus here at Larkhall.
And then make his way to his usual seat
in the front left hand corner of the upper deck.
Where he'd, er, settle down with the puzzles
from the, erm-- this free paper.
As you can see he's made a start on the word wheel,
but he's only got as far as about half
of the easy three letter words.
Point of death, ma'am.
Now I reckon it'd take me about 15 minutes
to get this far on the puzzles.
So that takes us to around 0815.
And that's Morrison St. Around there.
And he always got off at Bath Spa station.
At 0827.
So, we focus on this 12 minute window
between Morrison Street and Bath Spa.
Thank you. Thank you ma'am.
At some point, er, within this time window,
and from the stop on the journey through to this stop,
the killer must have sat directly behind the victim
in order to shut the windpipe quickly and efficiently
and er, get off the bus.
Leaving Ian Andrews dead.
With 20,000 dollars under his bed.
Mm.
Er, so far, we have TIE'd 79 potential witnesses.
Eight people think they remember seeing someone sit
behind the victim but
we can't even get agreement on gender,
let alone age, ethnicity, build.
Okay, we reassure the public with a uniformed present
on all city centre bus routes.
And when they're on the number six,
they're gathering more statements
from regular commuters.
Yes, I have to take this,
it's the assistant chief constable.
Again.
I'll be back in an hour.
Hello?
Ma'am, we've had another witness come forward.
Name's Hilary McLean.
She was sat upstairs between Larkhall and Bath Spa.
He was white. Mid to late 30s. Brown eyes.
Unshaven and short dark hair.
He was wearing like, erm, like a zip up sports top in grey.
Black shorts, black trainers, and gloves.
That's very precise, Hilary.
You got on the bus at Larkhall terminus
- at 8 a.m., Ms McLean? - Yes.
Had you seen the dead man before?
Yeah. Every time I get the six.
Mondays and Thursdays usually.
And-- And where--
Where were you seated, Ms McLean?
Right there.
So, on the right, at top of the stairs.
So, you would have been able to see everyone coming up
and down the stairs for the duration of your journey.
Yeah. I suppose.
Okay, let's get back to the man you saw acting suspiciously.
Er, so where did he, er, get on?
Guildhall. And he sat right at the front.
Just behind the-- the dead man.
And how long was he, er, with you on the journey?
10 minutes, I think?
Do you know where he got off?
No, no, I'm not sure. I had to take a phone call from work.
What was it that was so peculiar about him?
Well, it was when he came to get off.
He just... Well, he just didn't move.
Like, he just stood here.
Behind the victim.
For how long?
20 seconds? Half a minute?
Looks like we've got a serious suspect sarge.
Yeah, this man standing behind the victim.
Ma'am.
I've checked through the street,
residential and business CCTV
around all the stops in the window and I've got this.
There.
Getting on at Morrison Street at 8:15.
Is there any possible connection between Adderly and Ian Andrews?
Not yet.
Adderly's only been in the country for a week,
he lives in the US, has done for the last 25 years.
Yes.
The US Embassy has been in touch
concerning our treatment of Clarence Adderly.
What?
And whilst he's not lodged a formal complaint,
he did express some minor distress
about your attitude and behaviour
when you interviewed him yesterday.
He cheats on his wife of 40 years.
- We're the police. - But when I asked him
where he was yesterday between 8 and 9, he lied.
Did he?
He just told us that he was having a romantic assignation.
But when we tried to push it further,
you did, you know, you...
You misspoke.
Ah, okay, tech services have identified
the blank plastic card in the victim's wallet.
A left luggage locker at the bus station.
You better get down there DCI McDonald.
- Ma'am. - DS Dodds,
our inquiry has now definitively placed the Professor
at the crime scene?
So, he's a-- a witness, not a suspect.
##
Silver body paint?
Now the question that fascinates me
as an Afro-Anglo-American
from the hood is "why?"
Why this recurring cultural convection
between obscure Black American musical genres and young,
white working class and lower middle-class Brits?
Because we share a history,
for good or ill.
We hear the century old blues holler from the Delta
right here, right now,
and its essential authenticity sings to us,
and touches, our shared humanity.
Any questions?
Thank you, Professor,
might I return to that question of essential,
universal authenticity?
- I'm listening, sir. - Full disclosure.
I am Nicolas Olayinka,
I'm a specialist in developing
Manufactured Neural Networks.
You mean A. I.?
An emotive term that we prefer to avoid at the cutting edge.
But my work does present some disturbing questions
and, Professor, I'm on your team.
I, too, passionately believe in the human touch.
How no machine can replicate,
for example Robert Johnson's authenticity,
the artist at the centre of the blues creation myth.
Or can it?
Professor, the possibility torments me and one way,
or another, I have to know.
Please expand, Mr Olayinka.
I wonder if you'd indulge me in a friendly experiment.
Suppose I asked my programme to synthesise a blues recording
from the 1920s or '30s.
Could you, Professor Adderly,
distinguish between the authentic
- and the, er... - And the fake?
I prefer the term MODO--
music of digital origin.
##
Let's do it, Mr Olayinka.
##
That there.
##
If only all our witnesses
were like Hilary McLean.
There's a lot of detail here, ma'am.
A lot.
Oh.
Okay, we have our second suspect.
This man was seen by Hilary McLean
standing directly behind the victim for 20 to 30 seconds
between Morrison Street and Cadogan Square
Within the window of 8:15 to 08:21.
So, we check all street CCTV across those stops.
Exactly, specifically looking for
this guy getting on or off the bus.
Now we're specifically interested in
where you were between 8:15 and 08:27
on Monday morning.
I would have been in transit.
From my, er...
Oh, your romantic assignation?
Erm... Transit?
Yeah, I... got a bus.
I don't remember which one or exactly what time.
But I have a feeling that you're about to tell me.
I am indeed, sir, it's the number six from Larkhall.
And there you are, sir,
boarding at, er, Morrison Street there at exactly 8:15 a.m.
And, er, this renders you as significant witness.
And this is important because...?
Oh, because the person that we spoke about yesterday,
Ian Andrews, he was--
he was murdered on this bus between 08:15 and 08:27 a.m.
Can I ask you where you sat, sir?
- Upstairs. - Ah, now that--
that is music to my ears, sir.
You see because now our victim,
he was in the front left hand side seating
when he was strangled.
Strangled?
Now that I did not see.
Strangulation?
Did anyone?
Have you any idea roughly where you sat, sir?
The seat behind the guy,
you think that's where the killer sat?
Oh yes, sir, that-- that is the working theory yeah, yeah.
Well, I don't remember exactly where I sat,
maybe I did sit there,
but...
...I did not strangle a complete stranger.
You feel me, Sergeant?
Uh... Oh, yes, sir, I feel you.
Good man.
Oh!
Oh, yes, of course, sir.
He didn't want us to know he was on that bus. Why?
If he didn't murder Ian Andrews.
But if he did, then he knows we haven't got any eyewitnesses.
Ma'am.
This is the bus station last Sunday.
So, we've got Ian Andrews,
he takes a bag out of the locker
and takes it to the toilet.
Now we fast forward 20 minutes and...
Oh, that's Mr Darcy.
I see him a lot when I go to choir practise at the Abbey.
So that's why no one knew
where Ian disappeared each day.
Because he was disguised as Mr Darcy.
##
How can you just stand there all day, not moving,
not talking to anyone, just on your own.
Well, I never thought I would say this
when I was applying for the met but...
let's go interview Jane Austen.
Ma'am?
Hilary McLean.
##
The home help job is just part time.
So, I do this some afternoons and Sundays.
I actually, earn more from doing that than my real job.
Is everything okay?
There's a, er,
a living, erm, statue here, erm...
Mr Darcy. Erm, do you recognise him?
Yeah, his patch is just over there.
And do you ever, erm, talk to him, interact with him?
Uh... no.
Is this about the dead man on the bus?
This is the man on the bus.
Ian Andrews. Mr Darcy.
Oh, that's...
that's awful. I didn't...
Mr Darcy? I didn't know...
Did you, erm, notice anything unusual
or different about him recently?
Er, well I don't know if this is unusual but sometimes,
when I'd be going home in the evening,
I'd see him up in that alcove, you know, on Salvesen Street.
That's a bit of a dead area, isn't it?
I know, after everyone had gone home, even if it was raining,
just stand there looking at nothing.
You know, no one to look at him.
And when did you, erm, last see him there?
Uh... It was last Wednesday. About 7 p.m.
Ian Andrews had his 15 minutes of fame
by taking on three armed robbers.
But then he started complaining about
the attention he was getting.
He started drinking, his marriage fell apart.
Yeah, well there's a few chaps down The Sunne Rising
going down that route.
Ian Andrews, it was like it was a curse being a hero.
So he became a living statue so people didn't recognise him.
##
What is it?
I don't know, ma'am.
I dunno.
##
Hello?
##
Sir?
##
It's blood spatter around his nose.
##
Let's see who he is.
Alan Jones.
Also known as Jinxy.
He was my best friend at school.
##
You okay?
Yeah, fine.
Was, er, Jinxy married?
Kids?
Er, no, no. He, erm...
His sister, Mabel, she died a couple of years ago.
And he's been on his own, er, since then.
Is the pathologist ready?
- Yeah - Right, well, let's, er,
set to it.
What did he work as?
He was a sign-writer, Jinxy.
He was, er, Bath's last sign-writer.
Well, first of all, he's been dead at least four days.
Probably longer.
As long as last Wednesday?
That would fit.
His pockets have been rifled.
We're not gonna get prints from clothes.
His nose has been badly broken.
Spatter patterns suggest a powerful blow to the face.
And here, a large contusion to the side of the head.
I'd work on the theory that that's what killed him.
I'm not seeing any defensive injuries so...
one blow to the face?
No intention to kill?
- No. - Okay.
You're clear to take him back for the PM.
Ma'am, there's, erm...
There's a-- a bottle label, there, ma'am.
DC Goldie?
There.
It's a wine bottle, isn't it?
Er, fine tooth comb.
We sift through the other pieces.
Er, reconstruct the bottle and we pull for prints?
Yeah. And maybe we get DNA?
What do you think Jinxy was doing down here?
I don't know, ma'am.
Looks like he was using the place as a temporary workshop
and, erm, it wouldn't be the first time
someone's punched Jinxy in anger.
He was...
He liked to annoy people.
You know, goad them, we all tolerated it at The Sunne Rising
but he was so small,
wouldn't take much to flatten him.
So, someone killed him in a moment of madness.
Rifled his pockets but didn't take his wallet.
What were they looking for?
I don't know, ma'am, but he's not very rich, was he?
And then to pull over these shelves
and to smash all the glass to just confuse
and contaminate the crime scene.
Ian Andrews was standing over there on Wednesday.
What if he was murdered because he saw what happened to Jinxy?
Ormond.
I really want to work this case, ma'am.
Okay.
Ma'am?
You had a personal connection to the victim, Sergeant Dodds.
Yes, ma'am, erm...
Jinxy-- Sorry.
Mr Jones was my friend.
Ma'am, I'm struggling for manpower here.
We're still tracing and interviewing
all the bus passengers.
I could make a request for extra support.
Sergeant Dodds works alongside the inquiry
in a non-evidential capacity.
He doesn't take any statements, so he can't be called to court
in the event of a trial.
Okay, thanks, ma'am.
- Thank you, ma'am. - Sarge?
Yes, ma'am?
Ian Andrews witnessed the murder
of your friend last Wednesday.
But he didn't report it to the police.
Why not?
Does that explain the cash under Ian's bed?
Was he blackmailing the killer?
20k in US dollars does lean towards
Clarence Adderly as the killer-stroke-blackmail victim.
And this person still hasn't come forward,
despite saturation witness appeals.
Which is suspicious in itself.
Do we have anything on him?
No, ma'am.
Well, whether or not Ian was blackmailing the killer,
it's your friend who's the key to all this.
He's the one with the connection to the murderer,
isn't he, Sarge?
Yes, ma'am. I'd say so.
Alan Jones, also known as Jinxy.
Get everything we can on him.
And all the people that we've traced from the bus,
re-check their background to see
if there's any connection to him.
We need to find out who owns that glass factory.
I've also found out your friend likes to do a bit
of travelling, Sarge.
Three separate month long trips to the US
over the past seven years.
Most recently last February.
Jinxy? Travelling?
You must've noticed when he wasn't around.
Yeah well, we, you know,
we'd go for a few months without seeing him down the pub.
Well, each trip, he takes out a four-week car hire
- from New Orleans airport - No. No. No. No.
That's not what his bank statement's are saying.
His itinerary every time is a couple of nights
at The Bourbon Street Shakedown Hotel
and then he criss-crosses Mississippi,
Alabama, South Carolina.
Always finishing in Memphis, Tennessee.
America. Again.
The Deep South.
Everywhere we look, we are seeing Clarence Adderly.
I've visually colour-coded each of his trips.
So red for 2017, yellow 2019, blue last year.
You can see his routes and all the places he's visited.
Every bar, motel, diner, filling station.
He's just buzzing around randomly.
Back and forth.
And after school, we started drifting apart.
I got a job in Brockley's iron-mongers.
But Jinxy thought that was boring.
Alright?
He wanted to take his guitar on the road, like that old song.
Find himself a rock 'n roll band.
And all that.
And he ended up a sign-writer.
Yeah. Youthful dreams.
Well, it can happen to men, can' it?
Midlife crisis and all that.
Was he not a happy guy?
Ah, well, no.
He used to say-- well, boast--
"I'm only happy when I'm miserable."
##
- Shouldn't that be... - Yeah, Route 66.
Not 666.
You know, Jinxy has lived here for 40 years
and I've never been here before.
##
Blues. Blues.
All blues records.
All those trips to the states
He was buying all this... memorabilia.
That's, er...
Well done, Jinxy.
Okay. I'm gonna go and check through the living room.
When you're ready, you check his bedroom.
Give yourself a couple of minutes though, yeah?
##
"Best wishes, Clarence."
##
A signed copy of Clarence Adderly's book,
"The Contract at the Crossroads."
And Jinxy's highlighted something.
"Despite the valiant and exhausting efforts of scores
if not hundreds of dedicated and fanatical blues researchers,
Little Robert's map,
which is rumoured to specify the exact crossroads
where he sold his soul,
remains tantalisingly beyond our reach.
The lost chord that may never complete the tune."
- Who's Little Robert? - That's erm, er--
Robert Johnson, erm...
And his contract with the crossroads,
er, it's the legend, do you know, erm,
Clarence Adderly was talking about it
at the Festival of Ideas.
It's the birth of the blues.
The legend goes that Robert Johnson way back in time
in the Mississippi Delta met the devil himself
and sold his eternal soul to gain the blues.
Champagne Florette, '89.
From the barcode we know it was purchased in Shakers Wineshop
on Beau Street at 5:45 last Wednesday...
by Clarence Adderly.
##
Thank you.
##
No. I don't know him.
His name was Alan Jones.
We found him dead, yesterday,
in the old glass factory on Salvesen Street.
Under suspicious circumstances.
So, every murder that goes down in Bath, you want to pin on me?
The killings are linked.
And this man here, it's the, er, he, like you,
he was, er, Jinxy...
he was a fan of the blues.
And, er, at the crime scene, close to the body,
we recovered a smashed champagne bottle.
And when we reconstructed the bar code,
we traced the purchase back to you, sir.
Would this have been the Champagne Florette?
Yeah.
I think I left that in a taxi.
It's only a matter of time until we pull fingerprints.
So, if you'd just like to volunteer a sample
of your prints then we can easily clear this up.
You know, on the day that I was granted my US Citizenship,
I thought I would celebrate.
So, I hired a red 1968 Alpha Romeo Spider.
I thought I would, er, drive down through the Carolinas.
And...
I got pulled over by a couple of state troopers.
And, well...
I don't need to tell you how it went after that.
So, I'm kind of wary of gettin' involved with cops
on this kinda basis.
You feel me?
Sergeant Dodds?
No, sir, I don't think I do.
No prints.
Sorry.
Okay, well what about this?
Where were you last Wednesday, around 7 p.m.?
With your...
With your special friend?
No, detective.
I can tell you exactly where I was.
And exactly who I was with.
Clarence Adderly?
- Yes. - Yes, he's a client.
Well, a potential client.
He's very distinguished.
When was the last time you saw Professor Adderly?
That would be... last Wednesday?
Yes. Last Wednesday.
At about 6:30.
You're still open then?
It was a private viewing.
The professor is a collector
of minor Edwardian landscapes.
It's a burgeoning market.
And how long was he here for?
A couple of hours.
Monday morning between 8 and 9 a.m., where were you both?
- We were here. - Anyone who could verify that?
No. Why would there be?
You know, you still haven't asked why I'm asking you this.
We see a lot of the police here.
Looking for stolen goods.
They never tell us anything.
We're used to your methods.
Okay, well, we're here
because we're conducting an inquiry
into the suspicious death of this man.
Alan Jones.
He's, er, sometimes known as Jinxy.
Did you know him?
Gregg and Geraldine: No.
Well, his murder was connected to the killing
of one Ian Andrews on Monday morning.
Do you recognise him?
- Gregg and Geraldine: No. - Would you be willing
to give us a sample of your fingerprints
- for elimination purposes? - Gregg and Geraldine: No.
There's a lot of "No's" here, folks.
Something happened in that glass factory
and a punch was thrown
and it killed Jinxy-- Alan Jones.
Now if-- if-- if either of you threw that punch
then you are in serious trouble.
And if either of you witnessed the throwing of that punch--
the murder of Jinxy Jones-- and you didn't report it,
then you are in serious trouble.
Do you understand me?
##
Good day.
##
To Jinxy.
Jinxy.
Come on then, Doddsy, say what you wanna say.
He was murdered.
Lollipop Man: Murdered?
Jinxy was murdered?
What, deliberately?
- Why? - Chaps, we...
We think that Jinxy was killed last Wednesday.
How?
One punch.
In anger.
Delivery Driver: I knew it.
I knew Jinxy's mouth'd get him killed one of these days.
Did any of you see him in the days before he died?
- B & Q Man: Nah. - Lollipop Man: Nope. Sorry.
And did you see ever see him with a stranger?
Something odd?
Sorry, Doddsy, we haven't seen Jinxy here since...
Easter Monday.
What did you say to him, Doddsy?
He never came back here after that.
##
That Brian one-- was he actually making eyes at me?
Oh, yeah, sorry, ma'am.
You know, Brian's quite the ladies man.
Now he's, er-- He's had a fling with most
of the female rock singers in the 1980s.
Erm, "Power Ballad." I'll say no more.
So, I'm sorry about that.
So, what happened on Easter Monday?
Between you and Jinxy.
Well, I was-- I was drunk and I...
I gave him a piece of my mind.
Lauren.
I didn't wanna shoot my bolt in there in front of the lads.
Stout fellows, but they're, erm, amateurs.
Truth is, Lorie,
I ran into Jinxy after my gig at The Bell.
What, last Tuesday night?
- Yeah. - Er, Brian's the lead singer
in a Bad Company tribute band.
Worse Company.
I once went out on the pull with Paul Rogers.
Right. Tuesday night, Brian.
- Jinxy? - Oh, yeah.
Well, Jinxy was on one of his all-day benders.
Yeah, happy being miserable.
No, Doddsy, Jinxy was happy being happy.
I've never seen him so happy. It was in his eyes.
They were twinkling.
His eyes were twinkling with happiness.
Twinkling?
So, what was he so happy about being happy about?
The crossroads. Yep.
He'd found the crossroads, and it was gonna make him rich.
Seriously rich.
Did he expand on that, Brian?
Jinxy didn't ever expand.
He just sank his Old Peculiar,
told me I was the worst singer ever
and that my whole life was one big pathetic lie--
Especially to myself-- and left.
God, I'll miss Jinxy.
Ah, me too, Brian. Me too.
Thanks, Brian.
One love.
##
The crossroads?
There's something going on here, isn't there?
Something...
Some sort of story.
You're right, ma'am.
We tell the story, maybe we solve the case.
Yeah. And the story...
it starts in the Deep South.
##
♪ Preacher man's coming ♪
♪ Gotta get my soul clean ♪
##
♪ Preacher man's coming ♪
♪ Gotta get my soul clean ♪
##
Ah, Professor, you came. Thank you.
Did you think that I'd back out?
Well, you'll be delighted to hear, I have devised a test.
"Penitentiary Hollerin' Blues"?
Ah yes, the original production copy was damaged.
The middle eight was accidentally cut,
so they deemed it un-releasable.
But Columbia have recovered Robert Johnson's
own uncontaminated copy, owned by his family.
Yes, I heard the rumours.
Well, sir, I have obtained access.
So, if we reconvene at 1 p.m.,
you will, for the first time hear the missing middle eight of
"Penitentiary Hollerin' Blues."
Well, alright.
But, for my test, you will also hear
potential versions of the same sequence,
synthesised by my programme.
Your challenge, should you wish to accept it is this--
Can you discern the authentic from synthesised?
Well, in the words of the great philosopher
"Let's take it to the bridge!"
##
James Brown?
Of course.
This is a pattern after all, or it's more a recurring theme.
Now, the bulk of his purchases were made at or near crossroads.
The contract at the crossroads.
So, Robert Johnson, according to legend,
sold his soul to the Earl of Hell.
- The Earl of Hell? - Now, look here.
Jinxy's highlighted Little Robert's map.
Now, ma'am, this map,
what if Jinxy on one of his trips to the states
had somehow laid his hands on this map?
Last Tuesday night Jinxy was happy being happy
because he'd found the crossroads
that was gonna make him rich.
24 hours later, he'd dead
and someone's rifled through his pockets.
Jinxy was killed for Robert Johnson's map.
And where is it now?
And who's got it?
##
- Yes? - Mr Olayinka.
I'm am Gregg DeVere.
My sister Geraldine.
May we come in?
I've been advised by the US Consulate
not to say nothing more to you guys without a lawyer present.
Professor, I first met Jinxy Jones when we were
both five years old in reception class
at our old Lady of Fatima primary school.
Now, I think that Jinxy somehow acquired Robert--
Robert Johnson's missing map.
And I think that is why he was killed.
Okay.
Maybe I should have said something earlier,
but when you guys showed up with a photo
of another dead guy,
I panicked.
Truth is... I did meet Jinxy.
In the glass factory?
I don't know anything about a glass factory.
He came to the festival, he wanted to talk blues to me.
Got drunk.
I couldn't make out much of what he was saying.
Something was eating at him.
- Did he say what exactly? - Now look, guys,
I have told you everything that I know.
But as soon as this dumb bet with our AI friend is over,
I am gonna make tracks outta here tonight.
So, it's been a pleasure.
They think they've found the gloved man from the bus.
Facial recognition across social media
came back with 10 matches to this guy.
With only one living in Bath. Gordon Pendrey.
- Age 39, resident in Bewley. - That's on the number 6 route.
Yes. He's an ex paratrooper.
Trained killer.
Let's pick him up.
Oh, oh, hang on a second.
His-- His military and medical files
have just come through and...
A sniper bullet went through his left wrist
on a patrol in Sierra Leone in 2012.
If you can't grip a rope, tightly with both hands,
you can't strangle Ian Andrews.
TIE him, get a formal witness statement.
We rule him out, we're left with Clarence...
Yeah. Or the DeVeres. Or all three.
Oh, Sarge.
Data on the Bus Company's GPS system--
exact times and locations of the bus on Monday morning.
Okay, the glass factory, on Wednesday.
We know that Jinxy was there. With his map.
The champagne bottle places Clarence Adderly there.
And if he is alibiing the DeVeres,
that means that Gregg DeVere and Geraldine DeVere,
were also there.
So, we have a victim, a killer,
and two witnesses who saw the murder,
but didn't report it, why not?
Oh, this isn't right.
This-- This diversion.
So, they had the traffic turn left into Morrison Street
then onto Wellington Street.
But if they'd have turned right towards Pultney bridge
they would have joined the main trunk road
into Bath city centre.
Southwest Water have no record of a diversion on Monday.
Nor do the council.
DCI McDonald?
ACC want a detailed update on the inquiry.
What do you need?
Well, I need to see this bus driver again.
Okay. You go with him. You have to take the statement.
He's not allowed.
Monday morning. Around 8:15.
The bus was diverted at Morrison Street into Wellington Street.
Why didn't they turn us down to Pultney Bridge?
Well, that's what we're trying to ascertain, sir.
So, you turned into Wellington Street at 8:15
missing out the Oswald Street stop,
arriving at Cadogan Square at 8:21.
Yeah, sounds right.
So, when you turned into Wellington Street,
did the automatic internal lights come on?
No. They weren't working.
##
It's been tampered with.
Okay.
What've you got?
Well, first,
there were no signs of any recent road works anywhere.
- Okay. - I've checked through
the traffic cam at Morrison Street
and the bus was diverted from its route there.
A diversion sign and traffic cones were set out at 7 a.m.
The council then removed it all at 11:45
due to a score of public complaints.
They thought it was kids or some kind of student prank.
But actually, it was this person.
And you see, he or she,
keeps their face hidden from that camera...
Right. Second?
The interior lights of the bus
were disabled at the depot.
So, at 08:15 a.m.,
the misdirected bus came this way.
As you can see, under the bridge,
the upper deck would have been plunged into darkness.
So, the bus would have been travelling about
5 or 10 miles an hour,
so it would have taken about 30 seconds to emerge
at the other end of the tunnel
Which is more than the blink of an eye.
Which means that killer didn't have to be sitting directly
behind the victim.
No ma'am. No.
30 seconds is just enough time
for the killer to have gone into the seat behind the victim
and applied enough pressure on the larynx
to murder Ian Andrews and make it back to his original seat.
Right, show me that again.
Could be bloody anybody. Any gender.
It's the best view we have, ma'am.
Are you sure?
How many stops did that bus miss because of this diversion?
Oh, well, there's just one, ma'am.
Er...
Would go, so, there, er...
Oswald Street, it would have been.
So, the driver would have just come out
and taken a hard left on, er, Kingswood Road
and then left again back down to rejoin the original route
at Cadogan Square.
So, there must have been more signs put out
to redirect the driver back onto the original route.
Yes. I'll start checking CCTV between here and Cadogan Square.
Okay, so it could have been anyone who was upstairs
between Morrison Street and Cadogan Square.
Between 8:15 and 8:21.
Which is when this guy got on
before Clarence Adderly.
So, following the line,
who else was upstairs between the diversion
- and Cadogan Square? - Er...
Five passengers-- well, six if you include this guy.
You had Kevin Buxton, at the back.
Barry Oldham, three or four rows ahead.
Er, Hilary McLean on the right.
Hilary McLean...?
Hilary McLean.
Now we know that this man is not the killer.
How did he become a suspect even in the first place?
- Hilary McLean told us... - Because Hilary McLean told us
that she saw him standing for 20 to 30 seconds behind the victim,
between Morrison Street and Cadogan Square.
Saw him, ma'am.
Saw him!
She must eat a lot of carrots.
Right, deep background on Hilary McLean.
She's just gone from witness to suspect.
Ms McLean, we have established this man
could not have killed Ian Andrews.
Okay.
Well, I hope you find who did.
But we have established when he was killed.
Around 8:16 on Monday morning
between Morrison Street and Cadogan Square.
Which is when you said you saw this man standing
behind Mr Andrews.
Yes.
Have you forgotten that the bus was directed
down Wellington Street and under the bridge?
Where it was plunged into darkness
for 30 seconds?
Almost total darkness.
Which means that you could not have seen
this man standing behind Mr Andrews.
Seems that you have lied to us.
30 seconds of darkness would have been enough time
for you to cross the aisle and kill Ian yourself.
What?
We've accessed your employment history.
Five years ago, you worked at
the Ashton Branch of OddsMatch Betting in Bristol.
Same place that Ian Andrews did.
I-I didn't kill Ian.
You're gonna have to do better than that Hilary.
Ian was a hero.
And-- to me-- and...
I always liked him but I watched what happened to him
and he didn't like all the attention.
You know, he was-- he was a quiet, decent man.
Anyway he left Bristol
and I always wondered what had happened to him
until a couple of years ago, when I came to Bath
and I saw him.
And I tried to reconnect with him on the bus.
But he would just never talk to me.
But he knew who I was.
He'd just look through me, you know, like
he didn't want to be reminded of all of that.
You told me you didn't know Ian and Mr Darcy
were the same person.
Because I just wanted to help you and I was so,
so sure that guy killed him.
I don't know what to do about her.
She's just a bit of a poor soul.
Yeah. Whose wasted a shedload of our time.
And we can't rule her out completely.
Or Clarence. Or anyone on that bloody bus.
- Ma'am. - Yeah?
You called it right.
The last diversion sign,
he didn't realise there was a camera there
and he took off his mask.
Never mind who was on that bus.
This nails us a double killer.
Now, sir, I shall play you three tracks.
One of them is the genuine Robert Johnson missing bridge.
Please listen carefully to each version and then make your call.
I'm listening.
Version one.
##
Next.
Er, Professor, I really think you should listen
- a little longer before you... - I'm good.
♪ As you may throw away the key ♪
Next.
Version three.
##
So?
Professor?
Version three is Robert Johnson.
You're...
You're right.
Straight outta Compton.
Compton Dando.
##
Professor?
How did you do it? I'm confused.
Your accomplice performed well enough.
The, erm, signature harmonic distortion
of the RCA 44B microphone--
'A' minus.
The sonic artefacts on the acetate disc--
straight 'A'.
The Hallmark open G tuning
and the microtonal melisma--
'B' plus.
But it isn't about what is there.
It's about what isn't there.
And your robot missed the train.
I'm sorry?
Little Robert recorded "Penitentiary Hollerin' Blues"
close to the Mississippi and Western Railroad.
And, if you listen hard enough to the first section,
you will hear a train passing.
Now the bridge on track three has the train.
Track one and two-- no train over the bridge.
Now what is this about?
What is this?!
I know you.
You failed me.
My PHD.
"The Impossibility of History"?
"The impossibility of History."
Well, you deserved to fail.
It was a substandard piece of work.
No. It was good and you know it.
But thank you, Professor.
You set me on a path to my true vocation.
You didn't deploy some sensitive ear attuned to the authentic.
All you did was what any machine could have done--
detective work.
Detective work as in finding evidence
is kinda what history is.
Yes, but if it wasn't for the train,
could you have told the difference between authentic
and the synthesised?
That my friend, you will never know.
Professor.
- We're ready to sell. - To the highest bidder.
What do you mean the highest bidder?
I'm the only bidder.
What do you mean, highest bidder?
Ah! There's more than one person interested.
When and where?
Tech support are happy?
Yes, ma'am.
Good. Suspect surveillance?
All covered. And they're all heading to DeVere's.
What happened at the glass factory
last Wednesday is gonna happen again.
With all the same party present.
And our options are-- one killer, two victims.
Or two killers, two victims.
Or a joint enterprise with more than two killers.
And there is no evidence linking the killer with either victim?
No, ma'am.
And you're sure you've got enough to leverage a confession?
If everything goes to plan, ma'am.
Okay.
Now or never.
Lot number one of one, gentlemen.
A map of the Mississippi Delta.
Signed and dated and verified
by one Robert Johnson.
Little Robert's 40 days and 40 nights in the Delta.
Everywhere he went.
And lo--
The unholy of unholies.
The precise location of the contract at the crossroads.
More beautiful, more detailed
than all your young man's dreams.
Decades of scholars fashioning Little Robert
as a legend in their own image.
This map confirms the moment
that the stones started rolling.
When mankind drew breath before a shout of defiance
that would shake the world.
Look upon it and hear the jubilating
preachers and railroad whistles,
smell the backwards dukes, the homemade corn liquor,
the fried catfish.
It's worth more than money, Clarence.
The true crossroads in cold hard numbers.
The time and the place of the birth of the blues.
April 1932,
33 degrees North,
91 degrees West.
Years and years I've trudged those places--
20 years.
Nicolas, come on, let's not do this, man,
- this is heritage. - Can we get on with it please?
Banking apps at the ready please?
Shall we open the auction at...
300,000 dollars?
350.
550.
575.
580.
600.
610.
620.
630.
640.
##
660.
##
That's 660 with you, Mr Olayinka.
660 going once...
Just one second. One second.
660 going twice...
I have secured the funds from my father.
666.
Going once.
Going twice.
Gone to Mr Olayinka for $666,000.
I've emailed you the certificate of provenance.
We're ready to receive the funds.
With pleasure.
Why? Why are you doing this?
Okay, the three of you are under arrest.
On a menu of charges from perverting the course
of justice, to double murders.
Our story begins in the Mississippi Delta in 1932,
when little Robert Jones--
Jinxy got hold of the map last year,
he brought it back to Bath, he wanted to sell it.
Then what?
One of you three killed Jinxy,
the other two saw it and didn't report it.
So, whether you are a witness or a killer,
it's about the length of sentence now.
- I suggest you talk. - Excuse me.
I should go.
Jinxy came to you with the map.
Then what?
Erm...
So, I ran a check on the provenance
and it came back genuine.
So why not put it up to public auction?
- Legitimately. - Er...
You told Jinxy that it was a fake.
I offered him £500. He said no.
He didn't seem to trust us.
No!
- Sarge, you on this? - Oh, yeah, er...
Er, but then you were told
that Professor Adderly was coming into town
with his influence, his money, and his passion for that.
Look...
we didn't tell Jinxy that the map was real.
But we did go back to him
and proposed that we sell the map to the professor
and then split the profits.
So, you arranged the sale last Wednesday
at the glass factory.
Jinxy was dead when we got there.
Come on, Clarence.
And then you just happen to be on the number six bus
when Ian Andrews, who witnessed the killing of Jinxy--
It was them!
It must have been them.
They must have killed Jinxy
before we got there and then...
she sent me a text,
"We've got the map.
We want to sell. Meet me on the bus."
What? No, I didn't!
She told me what time, "8:15 Morrison Street.
Sit upstairs.
Second row from the front on the left."
I think he killed Jinxy before we got to the glass factory.
You're a big man.
Strong enough to punch Jinxy's lights out.
Strong enough to throttle Ian Andrews.
And we can place you at both crime scenes.
No, come on.
Clarence Adderly, I'm placing you under arrest
on the suspicion of the murder of Ian Andrews--
Ma'am, stop! Stop! Stop!
You can't arrest him ma'am.
I bloody well can, Sarge.
Ian Andrews was murdered in the 30 seconds
that it took for the bus to pass under the bridge
at Wellington Street.
- So what? - This is before
the Professor boarded the bus at Cadogan Square.
The professor's innocent.
You're wrong! He's innocent!
No.
No?
Mr Olayinka?
Well, I mean if he was at both crime scenes,
on the bus and at the glass factory, then he can't be...
How do you know the professor was at the glass factory?
Because you said.
You said that you found his prints on the champagne bottle.
Sir, DCI McDonald never said
that the prints came from the champagne bottle.
An hour ago, we obtained a warrant to enter
and search your lovely little,
short-let flat down there in Bathwick.
And our tech people and oh, you know they are very good,
they discovered that, for the last two weeks,
you've been monitoring the professor's
emails and telephone calls.
- What? - They also found
that you had intercepted the arrangements
for the meeting at the glass factory.
##
So, you contacted Jinxy.
You told him to be there 15 minutes early.
And there you were, waiting for him.
You wanted that map,
you wanted it before the professor could buy it.
But Jinxy, he wasn't gonna accept your offer.
It was you who Jinxy provoked.
Come on, mate, I am offering you 10 grand.
For 10 grand, son, what else you got...
Ten grand. You got to do better than that.
- What do you mean? - I'm just saying...
People like me? What do you mean?
I said don't push me.
It was you. You punched him.
- Fatally. - He was dead when I got there.
We'll see about that.
##
Because Jinxy, of course, he wasn't carrying that map was he?
But you still had the presence of mind
to confuse the crime scene.
##
Before the DeVeres and the Professor showed up.
##
So, you waited and you watched...
and that's when you saw the champagne bottle smash.
And then The Professor and the DeVeres
they decided not to report Jinxy's murder.
He's dead. I'm calling the police.
The police, are you mad?
Because well, Mr DeVere, he still had a map to sell
and the professor wanted to buy it.
So, to report the existence of the murder would have meant
to report the existence of the map to the police.
- What are you doing? - I'm protecting you.
No.
I want nothing to do with you people.
You knew the sale of the map was still on.
And you wanted to snatch it from under Clarence's nose.
But then things got worse for you...
I want money...
Ian Andrews saw everything,
and he blackmailed you.
Ian Andrews? Who's that?
So, to keep Ian Andrews at arm's length
you gave him the 20,000 dollars,
which combined with a ticket stub
from the Festival of Ideas,
led us here to suspect the professor.
Which gave you time to observe Mr. Andrews' routine
and plot his murder.
You're speculating.
At 6:23 last Monday morning,
you disabled the interior lights on the number 6 bus.
You then set up a diversion on Morrison Street.
Your last diversion sign at Cadogan Square,
you made a mistake.
You didn't notice the CCTV cameras.
You then deployed your expertise with WhatsApp messages
to set up a meeting on the bus
between Ms DeVere and the professor.
So, sometime before 8:15 on Monday morning
you boarded the number 6 bus...
And when it turned into Wellington Street
and was plunged into darkness,
you struck.
We have an eyewitness that places you on the bus.
I was on the bus.
But did your eyewitness see me, in the dark?
You then alighted the bus.
And then you, Professor,
as instructed by your fake text message,
sat behind the already strangled victim.
##
With your blackmailer, Ian Andrews dead,
and the professor framed for his murder,
you went after this map.
He approached us.
Told us he was a wealthy collector of blues memorabilia,
and did we have any pieces in our collection of interest.
And then you came up with the idea of this auction,
didn't you?
To pit the professor against Mr Olayinka to bid up the price.
So here we all are, from the Mississippi Delta,
to Bath, England.
You did all this because I failed you?
You really need help because you're not right.
No. I was right and you know it.
No, you're wrong.
You're wrong in every respect
because you're still just a boy.
A boy who just never understood the word no.
And you're a complacent fool
who sells manufactured authenticity to white people.
You really need to grow up. I grew up.
No, I-I was dragged up on a council estate.
We had nothing.
You?
You're just a posh boy.
Yeah, I see it in your manner. I can hear it in your voice.
I hear the English public school.
I can hear the entitlement.
The privilege.
Just another posh boy who thinks it's all just a game.
Well, son.
The world is not yours.
Jinxy, he hated the posh boys.
Its starts with a failure, turns into a thirst for revenge.
And he hit the professor where it hurts.
His belief in blues music a-and Robert Johnson
and its authenticity.
Ramp up the pressure on Clarence.
And then he wants what Clarence wants the most.
That.
And when Jinxy doesn't give it to him,
he sinks into a pit of festering,
obsessive, crazy, weird hatred.
All because you didn't get a gold star.
Because I killed Jinxy!
##
I... I killed a man
because of him.
It's all your fault.
I killed Jinxy because of you.
And I killed...
##
I need to hear you say it, Nicolas.
##
And I killed Ian Andrews, too.
##
Nice turn out, eh?
Well, erm, we never stopped liking Jinxy.
You know, ma'am,
I've only ever been drunk three times.
At the school dance-- I was so nervous of girls -
after my old auntie's funeral,
- and then... - Easter Monday?
Jinxy was just going on at me,
about how pointless everything was.
My life, and his life, everyone's life.
I told him out of all the people that's ever lived
and-- and died,
in the history of humanity-- 17 billion,
- cos I-I checked... - Yeah. I bet you did.
...that there is only 300 million who ever got lucky.
Properly lucky.
And, ma'am, if you were a white man
born at the same time and the place
as me and Jinxy,
you would have had more advantages than any
of the 17 billion.
And Jinxy was one of the 300 hundred million
and I-I told him just stop being so bloody miserable.
"You Jinxy Jones,
you are one of the luckiest of the lucky."
So, then he wanted to sell the map for loads of money.
And I-- It never settled right with me, what I said to him.
##
Nice music though, innit?
♪ There is a house ♪
♪ In New Orleans ♪
♪ They call the rising sun ♪
♪ Rising sun ♪
♪ It's been the ruin ♪
♪ Of many a poor girl ♪
♪ Many a poor girl ♪
♪ And me I know I won ♪
♪ I'm going back to New Orleans ♪
♪ To New Orleans ♪
♪ My race is almost run ♪
♪ Almost run ♪
♪ I'm going back to New Orleans ♪
##
♪ Beneath the rising sun ♪
##
♪ There is a house in New Orleans ♪
♪ They call the rising sun ♪
##