Bugger.
Oi!
That bike belongs to a copper.
How about you mind your own business.
And he's still not had his first coffee.
Detective Inspector Max Arnold.
Give me those.
Right. Stand there.
What you doing, bruv?
You can't just take pictures of me, mate.
What's your name?
- Jake. - Jake what?
Turner. Are you gonna nick me or what?
I'd prefer to avoid any unnecessary paperwork.
Well, Mr. Turner, you owe me a new bike lock,
which you can drop off at Chelsea nick
at your earliest convenience.
Off you go then.
And I mean new.
With a receipt.
As in not bloody nicked!
Like and share, like and share.
Aw, mate! What you doing?
The wages of sin... is death.
Get off.
The wages of sin... is death.
Jog on.
Please stand back from your platform of choice.
Excuse me! DI Arnold.
Darren Goldfinch, Chelsea Online News.
Is it true a passenger was pushed onto the line?
Rumor is we could have a mad pusher on the loose.
No. That is not true.
Could it be? Just give me something.
Huff Post are interested.
- Morning, Sir. - Morning.
Make sure nobody nicks that, will you?
DI Arnold...
Detective Inspector Arnold.
You did know I was back today, right?
Did I?
How is it?
By "it", you mean my child?
Motherhood.
Uh, girl, right?
On account of the pink teddy bear?
Thanks for that, by the way.
Don't tell me. A flower.
I'm picturing a flower...
Lupin?
Who calls their child Lupin?
- Poppy. - Poppy.
She's got your eyes.
Beady.
Sorry to hear about your dad.
How have you been?
And, dare I ask. you and Astrid?
Oh God, Max, you're not still on that smelly boat, are you?
I might be.
Did we get anything from eyewitnesses?
She thinks he was pushed.
What did the driver say?
He said he jumped.
Less paperwork if he jumped.
I'm Detective Inspector Max Arnold.
Please.
You told one of my officers you believed the victim was pushed?
That's how it looked at the time.
Did you see who pushed him?
But thinking about it now,
it's more like he jumped.
It all happened so fast.
Or fell.
I think actually he fell.
He looks unsteady on his feet.
That busker's not happy.
Do you think he made his way down on to the platform
to give him a shove?
Depends on the type of coffee that was spilled.
World's first coffee-related murder.
Not the last.
I can't see a push.
It looks like he falls.
Or jumps.
We need the footage from the driver's cab.
How'd you know I spoke to him?
Right, right, always watching.
You took a break shortly after.
Yeah, in that direction.
I went to get a refill.
Oh, where'd you get your coffee?
From a van around the corner.
Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk.
Excuse me.
Can he do that?
What did the victim say to you?
Not "sorry," I can tell you that much.
Something about sin.
The wages of sin is death.
Are you sure?
Yeah, it was weird.
Did he smell of alcohol?
No, but he... He was slurring his words.
Morning, Ashley.
Excuse me. Is she on?
I'll just go check.
Morning.
- Morning. - Morning.
Hold on.
Wait for the beep.
Speak.
Any ID?
Victim is Andrew Knightley, 62 years old,
formerly of 72 Denton Crescent.
Amazing what you find down here.
Coins, various denominations, a gym membership card,
expired April 2016, a false nail... pink...
A button... White with a blue ripple.
Did you find his phone?
Just his keys, wallet, and oyster card so far.
Is he one of yours?
Oi! Can you stop!
- I said stop filming! - Hey!
How the hell did he end up on the platform?
I don't know. Nobody's got past me.
Oh, well, clearly he did!
Can I have my phone back?
How did you get in?
Invisibility cloak.
It's locked. Face ID.
Invisi-bility.
How'd you spell that?
- Is it all I's? - Are you allowed to do that?
Oh, deleted!
Thank you, Mr. Hewitt.
Venting at a colleague.
Is everything alright?
The kid, the new baby, new mum thing...
Okay, these are just random words.
Sleepless nights.
Oh, I think he's asking if I'm tired.
No, he's concerned why you came back to work three months early.
Are you and Astrid still speaking?
Oh, you're deflecting.
We're having a custody battle.
Over what?
My coffee machine.
Astrid bought it for me, so it's mine.
She doesn't even drink coffee, for God sake.
Okay, great.
Good to know you've been coping.
Connor. Jess.
- Morning, boss. - Morning, boss.
- Look busy. - Hey.
- What are you doing back? Hello. - Congratulations.
Welcome back.
Um, I've got the footage from the driver's cab.
- Oh. - Connor?
Where are we on locating the victim's next of kin?
The daughter's on holiday in Tenerife.
I left a message with the hotel.
A message?
I'm chasing.
Okay.
Right, there's our man.
Does that look like a push?
Maybe he trips, loses his balance.
Hello.
Is that an arm?
- Pushed. - Oh, definitely.
Start collating everything you can find on Andrew Knightley.
Hey, Pri, welcome back.
Any baby photos?
Um, later.
Did they call you back early?
That's a bit out of order.
I'm fine.
Okay.
No, Max, I don't want you round my flat
with your screwdriver taking it apart.
Oh, your flat now, is it?
Since you left, yeah!
- Asti... - Astrid.
Asti, how do you know it's broken?
You don't even drink coffee.
No, but my guests do.
It's probably just the fuse.
Wait, you have guests?
What guests?
Goodbye, Max.
There... you talked to her.
You feel better now?
Upstairs neighbor said last Tuesday night,
he heard a loud sobbing and moaning.
- From this flat? - Hmm.
He said he asked him about it the next morning.
And Andrew Knightley was mortified.
Said he got carried away "praying."
What's his family situation?
Neighbor said he lived alone since his wife died
six months ago.
Bank statements.
An invoice for Brompton Stonemasonry.
Proprietor, Andrew Knightley.
Letters from his GP.
This one from last week.
"Saw Mr. Knightley...
complaining of dizzy spells."
He's been referred for a thyroid test and an MRI.
Maybe he was ill.
Place is spotless, but he's missed a bit here.
He was unsteady on his feet, slurring his words,
but there's no alcohol in the cupboards.
No empties in the recycling.
You checked the bathroom for pills?
Yeah. Nothing stronger than paracetamol.
This isn't really about the coffee machine, is it?
Unless it is, in which case I'll just buy you a new one.
How much was it?
About £500.
I know, I know.
For my 40th, Nitin bought me a terrarium.
It's the height of romance... A cactus and a jar of dirt.
Hello.
A spy camera?
Yeah, but what's it doing in the bin?
It's not broken.
Looks like it's motion-activated.
You got a pen?
However did you cope without me, Max?
Andrew Knightley's tox samples, blood and urine,
showed traces of a synthetic opioid.
We checked with the GP and he wasn't been prescribed them.
He was using?
It's possible he wasn't aware he been taking it.
But from the opiod metaboloid present,
it looks like he'd been ingesting it for a while.
What do you mean he wasn't aware?
We didn't find any opioids in his house.
But I did.
There were traces in the stomach contents,
so I requested further tests
on foodstuffs from the victim's kitchen.
Milk and sugar samples where contaminated.
Someone was drugging him?
Someone was doing more than that.
Contact burns.
See this discoloration across his shoulders and upper back?
They're healing, but probably less than a week old.
Circular, but blistering in different sizes.
Not cigarette burns.
They look more like a drip pattern,
possibly oil-based.
What did that neighbor say?
Moaning. Sobbing. Praying.
A spot of Tuesday-night flagellation.
There's one more thing.
From his medical history...
there's an old fracture of the right humerus.
Well healed, at least 5 to 10 years old.
But hard to spot clinically.
There's barely any malunion.
Which means?
Which means it's been treated,
so should be on his medical records,
and it's not.
Boss, cyber boys uploaded the data dump
from Andrew Knightley's laptop.
Cyber boys?
No social media presence,
but his search history is interesting.
Oh, and front desk said
some young bloke dropped that off for you.
Thank you.
"Ghosts," "Ghost writing,"
"Reincarnation," "Automatic writing."
Gabriella Tottenham?
He searched genealogy sites too,
so maybe building his family tree.
Financial background checks on Andrew Knightley.
Recent transactions cross-referenced
with receipts found in his wallet.
Two items of jewelry... A necklace and earrings...
Bought a week apart, on the 18th and the 25th.
Not cheap, either.
And he withdrew 500 quid two days ago.
He didn't have any cash on him.
You checked this against the inventory from his flat?
No cash or jewelry there.
Phone company sent through his texts.
He averaged single-number texts per week, but...
outgoing, 21:05 the night before he died.
"There is an evil in my home. Can you help me?"
I've called the number, left a message.
Requesting a trace.
And when was the last ping from Knightley's phone?
Uh, oh, 7:55 outside South Ken station.
So presumably he had his phone on him when he died.
But it hasn't been recovered yet.
Um, you might wanna see this.
Photos pulled from Knightley's laptop.
There's four in total.
"He that hath mercy on the poor lendeth to the Lord
and he will repay him."
"Do not forget to do good, and to impart,
for by such sacrifices God's favor is obtained."
"How gracious and compassionate is our Lord."
"The unrighteous shall not possess the kingdom of God.
Do not err."
The last one was taken six days ago.
I've traced the victim's last text.
It was sent to an Erin Murphy.
She's the chapel warden at Brompton Cemetery.
Okay. Thanks, Jess.
Emmeline Pankhurst famously buried here,
but what age was she
when she joined the suffrage movement?
Was it 14, 18, or 21?
18?
It was 14!
Emmeline was 14
when she joined the suffrage movement.
Right, everyone come on.
Through there.
Come on, let's keep it going.
That's it.
"An evil in my home."
I had no idea what he meant.
You didn't respond?
No.
Thank you.
I was going to ask him about it yesterday morning.
You and he had planned to meet?
Most mornings, he's in the chapel when I arrive.
Is that a new habit?
The frequency is.
It's been almost daily for the past month.
I did wonder if he was ill.
He looked pale.
Have you ever been in Andrew's flat?
No.
Where were you at 8:00 AM yesterday?
Dropping my husband at Saint Pancras.
We found some writing on a mirror in Mr. Knightley's home.
Four in total, over the last four weeks.
Did he write them?
Not from our handwriting analysis.
Does anything stand out?
Beyond it being a threat?
Proverbs, Hebrews...
That one's Psalms.
Corinthians.
But the language?
Um, is it standard King James?
One moment, please.
"Ghost writing"?
"Reincarnation."
I mean, he worked in a cemetery,
maybe something followed him home.
I'm joking, Max.
I'm sorry. Is your father buried here?
I'm so sorry.
Is that Davinson Clarke?
Mrs. Murphy, do you know that man?
Davinson? Yes.
And I know all about his past.
I volunteer at a place that helps people
like Davinson get back into work.
Ex-cons?
People who've fallen on hard times.
I don't judge.
Any history between Davinson and Andrew Knightley?
You'd have to ask him.
Now, they're from the Douay Rheims translation.
It's Catholic. Traditionalist.
Quite common.
But this one, this is truncated.
The full quote is "Know you not that the unrighteous"
shall not possess the kingdom of God.
"Do not err, neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers."
Wow, hard to fit all that on a mirror.
Think he'll remember us?
Mr. Clarke!
This is DI Arnold.
Any units near Brompton cemetery?
Chasing a suspect on foot towards the Fulham Road.
Davinson Clarke. Advise caution.
He's got previous for GBH and aggravated robbery.
I think he remembered us.
Aww, it's been ages since I've had a stitch.
Well, you've just... you know.
Yeah, I know.
Hiya.
I've just started working on the head.
Excuse me.
I'm Detective Inspector Max Arnold.
This is Detective Sergeant Priya Shamsie.
Are you Hayley Donohue?
Yeah.
We're investigating an incident at South Kensington tube station
yesterday morning,
which resulted in the death of Mr. Andrew Knightley.
What happened?
He was hit by a tube train.
I'm sorry, we do have to ask some questions.
Hayley?
Okay, okay.
Alright.
Stay still.
It's so impressive.
Thanks.
We were supposed to build it together,
but it's all my own work.
Andrew kept avoiding it.
Why's that?
He just hated doing it.
Have you worked together long?
Coming up to two years.
I started here on an apprenticeship
and then Andrew kept me on.
He was a good boss.
There. It's not deep.
You might need a tetanus shot if you're not up to date.
Thanks.
Can you tell us anything about Andrew's personal life?
You know he was widowed last year?
Did he have a current partner?
No, he was the married-for-life type.
He recently bought some jewelry.
A necklace and some earrings.
That was for his daughter's birthday.
I helped him choose them.
What's this?
Charity barbecue a while back
that Andrew roped me in to help at.
He donated all the food.
Was Andrew friendly with Davinson Clarke?
Sure. Davinson helps us prep the plots.
You and Mr. Knightley look close.
We were, I suppose, but he's my boss,
so I had to laugh at his jokes.
I know how that goes.
Did you socialize outside of work?
Me and Andrew?
No.
Did you go to his house?
No.
Could we take a sample of your handwriting?
What for?
Elimination purposes.
What should I write?
The whatsit fox and the lazy dog?
How about "The Lord is Gracious and Merciful."
"The Lord"
is Gracious
"and Merciful."
Is this about the messages... The ones on his mirror?
Mr. Knightley told you about those?
Oh. Did he.
He showed me a photo of one on his phone.
"Messages from his ghost," he told me.
He was hoaxing it, right?
Oh...
Do you have any other samples of your writing to compare?
Seeing as you already knew about those.
Thank you.
We also found a video camera in Mr. Knightley's home.
Do you know about that?
No.
Maybe he was trying to film his ghost.
Okay.
Put some officers outside the suspect's flat.
There's no sign of Davinson Clarke.
Oh, are we taking the tour?
Had a gut feeling about that tour guide.
He was watching us like a hawk.
Is there a number we can call?
A-ha!
CHIPS.
The Chelsea Historical Preservation Society.
It's my aunt's passion.
Hello, stranger.
Morning.
You remember my partner, Priya?
Partner?
Ah, as in copper. Well, obviously.
'Cause you're way out of his league.
I called Simon. He's on his way.
Come through.
I love your aunt.
It's our most popular tour.
Simon used to be an actor.
Still am an actor, Livvy, and a writer.
Playwright.
How well did you know Andrew Knightley?
Only to chat about the weather.
The reason I was staring...
I was plucking up the courage to come over.
I might have some information about the groundsman.
Go on.
Must've been two days ago.
I saw Andrew Knightley give Davinson some money.
It looked like a lot of cash too.
I've heard people say that Davinson's the man
to speak to if you want... You know.
What?
Drugs.
And did you see an exchange?
No.
Well, when Mr. Clarke turns up, we'll ask him.
I'm late for rehearsals.
Is there anything else you need from me?
We'd like a sample of your writing.
You wanna read my play?
Your handwriting.
Can you write out the following sentence, please?
Um, "The unrighteous shall not possess the kingdom of God."
Why do you need that?
Just collecting writing samples of everyone
who had contact with Andrew Knightley.
This is going to the library?
It's first edition.
Doesn't want to help, but keen to interfere.
Just like his father.
That's fine. Thanks.
Thank God for spellcheckers.
Where were you yesterday at 8:00 AM?
I was here.
What were you doing here?
I'm staying here.
It's only for a couple of weeks.
Just while his flat's being decorated.
Sorry, I really do need to go.
Is that okay?
Uh, yeah.
If we have any more questions, we know where to find you.
Don't wait up, Livvy.
I don't like him. He's shifty.
- He's good company. - How well do you know him?
I've been friends with his mum since forever.
Oh, Max, your police antenna makes you think
everybody's shifty.
You know, intergenerational relationships are
far more common than you think.
Mr. Simon Turnbull is not my aunt's type.
- Oh? - Trust me.
Oh.
Okay.
I get it.
Yes, absolutely.
No. No, it's not a problem.
Yeah.
Uh, can I just call you back?
Thank you.
Hey. Dinner's in the microwave.
Did you jog home?
- I went to the track. - It's good timing.
Do you remember Jo Lyndsey? She was covering for me.
She just called. They need me to review
the Itsu campaign before it goes out.
- Could you...? - I need to shower and eat.
Congratulations, Asti.
I bet you broke it on purpose.
- Boss. - Oh.
Check your e-mail.
Where did these come from?
There's a new one.
"The wages of sin is death."
When was this taken?
Says in the copy it was the morning he died.
Chelsea Online News.
That reporter at South Ken tube.
Um, Darren Bullfinch, Goldcrest.
The site's owned by a Darren Goldfinch.
That's him. Find his contact details.
I want to know how he got these pictures.
Will do.
Was it just these photos?
Or were there others?
Just these.
How'd you come by them?
An anonymous source.
Arrived in the post this morning, an envelope,
with a USB stick inside.
- Do you still have the envelope? - No, I recycled it.
- What about the USB stick? - It's somewhere.
Was the address handwritten or printed?
I don't remember.
As of this morning, 5,000 hits and counting.
You normally get less than 1,000 a week.
If I was you, I'd stretch this out a bit longer too.
That's not what I'm doing.
I'll write you a receipt for this.
No, no, I need that for work.
Look, um...
Good journalists need to protect their sources.
Fine. Fine. It wasn't on a USB stick.
It was a WeTransfer link from 1990superNH@protonmail.com.
Proton Mail is...
Yeah, we know what Proton mail is.
Could "NH" be initials and 1990 date of birth?
Didn't think to ask.
A good journalist would ask.
You said at the start I haven't been arrested?
That's correct.
So I'm free to terminate this interview
and leave at any time?
Thank you, Mr. Goldfinch.
Proton Mail is an end-to-end encrypted e-mail service.
Hello, Poppy!
Say hello. Say hello.
Am I on mute?
Oh, she's smiling now. Look.
Oh, let me see!
Oh, hold on, hold on.
It was a lot easier to lie before FaceTime, Nitin.
You missed it by micro-seconds.
Look, she's... she's cold and she's tired.
Let me just sort her out and I'll call you back.
It's okay, I'll... I'll just see her later.
I'd better go. Bye.
Bye.
The spy-cam from the Knightley residence
was purchased on the Internet from a firm in Hong Kong.
Posted to a PO Box in the name of "Snap Dragon 2,000."
No listings for it on Companies House.
But the camera was networked.
Do we know which way it was pointing?
Untraceable.
The IP address is used by Surfshark, a VPN service.
Okay.
What are you doing?
What you're not.
Paperwork.
Is everything okay?
With Lupin?
Poppy.
I know.
She's fine.
I used to sit in my dad's bookshop
and listen to him chatting to customers
about "getting lost in a book."
And for years,
I thought everyone had the same problem as me.
Permanently lost.
It's frustrating not to understand
something so fundamental.
And I found ways that work for me.
Visual clues.
Pictures make more sense than words.
Are you okay?
Sorry, go on.
Well, my dad realized there was another reason
why I was struggling with schoolwork.
I mean, it was hardly ever talked about then, dyslexia,
so his solution was to do all my reading for me,
which was really annoying.
Textbooks, homework,
a chapter of a book every night.
And half the time, when he was reading,
I'd get impatient, struggling to follow the story,
the words whizzing by too fast to picture it right.
But my old man, he persevered.
The thing is,
the words didn't matter.
What mattered was his voice in my ear.
Knowing that he hadn't given up on me.
Anyway...
Max, don't ever change.
Never been any good at that.
Bloody hell. Priya!
Keep your eye on our busker friend.
What was his e-mail address?
Super NH, H, NH, NH...
- Nicholas... - Hewitt.
Nicholas Hewitt.
TFL issue licenses for buskers.
They'll have an address.
When Andrew Knightley bumped into you
at South Ken Tube, you helped yourself to his phone.
Picked his pocket.
No, I didn't!
Station CCTV caught you.
And half an hour ago,
our officers found that phone at your girlfriend's flat.
No comment.
How much did Darren Goldfinch pay you for the photos?
No comment.
Did you push Andrew Knightley onto the tracks?
After all, you were angry with him.
What, for spilling my coffee? Come on!
You took his phone, but that wasn't enough.
And when the red mist came down,
you decided to really punish him.
I didn't. I swear.
I went to get a refill. I was only gone a minute.
And anyway, why would I stick around to talk to you lot?
This is nuts.
Look, that reporter bloke Goldfinch, you talk to him?
Of course.
He gave me his card.
So when I found the photos on the phone, I contacted him.
He offered me 100 quid, but he hasn't paid.
Process him. Theft and obstruction.
There's more... a video too. I was...
I was gonna charge Goldfinch extra for it.
When we caught you filming on the platform,
our officers insist there was no way
you could have got past them.
So how did you do it?
And don't say invisibility cloak.
Fire door at the rear of the station has a dodgy lock.
Can jiggle it open, let yourself in.
When I was sleeping rough,
I'd use it to get into the tunnels at night.
The video was recorded by Andrew Knightley
in his flat the night before he died.
I need to know...
Is it you?
I need to know...
Is it you?
He's really struggling.
Or am I going mad?
Is it you?
What are you thinking?
We need to find out who that girl in the photo is.
I've left you some dinner in the fridge.
You alright?
You know at work,
I know what I'm doing.
I'm good at it.
But with her... I can't shake this feeling
that I'm just gonna screw it up.
Well, if you want to blame your mum,
I'm 100% behind that.
Maybe some of it's her fault.
But not all of it.
If I do start to mess this up,
if I am just...
If I am just crap at being a mum...
you'll tell me, right?
God, no. You're kidding?
Good.
- Morning. - Morning. Not so fast.
Andrew Knightley's daughter just touched down at Heathrow.
We're gonna meet her at his flat.
Finally. Someone who can shed some light on Andrew.
- Yeah. - No one seems to know him.
Apart from Hayley.
I got Jess looking into her movements.
When the hotel said police from London had called,
I thought I'd been burgled.
I never expected this.
Was your dad in any trouble?
We hardly spoke.
Unless hastily-written birthday and Christmas cards count.
So he didn't buy you jewelry for your birthday
No.
Last time we talked was six months ago,
at Mum's funeral, but even then only about practicalities...
Sorting out Mum's will.
Dad had no interest in mending bridges.
Me neither after he told me my mother's death
was God's punishment for his sins.
Was he due a pay-out?
Mum's life insurance.
It's due any day now.
We found this photograph on the mantelpiece.
Who is it?
I don't know, but I've seen her before.
Dad used to do anything for you,
and then one day, he couldn't care less.
Mum blamed it on his accident.
What accident?
He wrote off Mum's car.
Broke his arm?
Yeah.
When was this?
End of my second year at uni,
so June, July 2012.
Did he go to the hospital?
Yeah, of course.
Only there's no mention in his medical records
about a broken arm.
There must be.
What was your mother's occupation?
Well, she was a nurse.
So then it's possible...
No. That's absurd.
Why... Why wouldn't he go to the hospital?
Can you tell us anything else about the accident?
I was away when it happened.
Next time I came home... Christmas...
Dad's arm had healed, but he wasn't himself.
He just wanted to be left on his own.
And then one day, I found him in his workshop,
staring at this picture.
I asked him if he was okay
and he shouted and pushed me out.
As soon as I graduated, I moved out.
Couldn't wait to get away.
But you don't know who she is?
Or what your father's sin was?
No.
There's so much I wish I knew.
According to Andrew Knightley's financial records,
he purchased a silver chain necklace
and a pair of diamond earrings on the 18th
and 25th of this month.
You told us he bought those for his daughter.
That's what he told me.
The mast data for your mobile
shows you at Andrew Knightley's address
on two occasions... the 5th and the 12th of this month.
Andrew sometimes asked me to drop things off on my way home.
He had a habit of leaving his keys behind.
When we asked before if you'd been to his flat, you said no.
I've never been inside.
The morning before he died, he withdrew £500.
Do you know anything about that?
No.
Were you romantically involved with Andrew Knightley?
What?
That's absurd. Of course not.
Can you identify this girl?
It's just someone off the Internet.
It's Andrew's reference photo for the carving of the angel.
Some food items we found in his kitchen
had been laced with opioids.
Do you know anything about that?
- No. - If we searched your flat,
would we find similar substances?
No.
We believe someone was trying to gaslight Andrew,
con him out of money and expensive gifts.
Was that the plan... To exploit him?
- No. - Did he tell you about
the pay-out he was due to receive
- from his wife's life insurance? - No.
Where were you the morning Andrew Knightley died?
I was at home.
If you have my GPS data, you should know that.
Unless you left your phone there?
Did you speak to my flatmate?
She'll confirm I was at home.
Max.
You don't want it?
Thanks, but no.
I felt guilty for breaking your old one,
so I... I replaced it.
Am I missing something?
Do you want to come in?
No, I don't want to come in.
Fine.
Okay. I'll come in.
I'm jealous.
There.
Is that what you want to hear?
I'm jealous because you seem to be doing alright without me.
On a houseboat.
You're not jealous.
And angry.
You want me to think you're jealous and angry.
You're infuriating.
It eats you up, you can't control what I do any more.
Nonsense!
Take the bloody machine.
I want you to have it.
Take it.
It's the top model, much better than your old one.
There it is.
What?
I'm going to repair my coffee machine.
That's what you do when something's broken, Asti,
you fix it.
I'm gonna give it to someone else then.
Oh, you have to make everything so complicated.
I loathe complications.
You thrive on them.
I bet you broke my machine on purpose.
Please!
You create these dramas so you can take control.
That is not fair!
- Drink your wine. - I'm driving.
You're bicycling!
We outgrew each other.
Well, I outgrew you.
Do you miss me?
I most definitely do not.
Good.
I don't want it.
Will you please take the bloody thing?
- Keep it for your guests. - I don't have any guests.
Asti, you asked me to leave and now you're upset?
Or are you scared I might have outgrown you?
And I like my houseboat.
Whoop-dee-bloody-do!
Simon?
I'm doing some washing.
Do you want me to...
Livvy?
Well, what do you think?
Livvy, have you forgotten?
Forgotten what?
You asked me to sell those.
You don't remember?
It was a couple of nights back,
you asked me to get the ball rolling.
God, you know what, this is my fault.
It was after we had two spliffs and a bottle of red.
I'm sorry, I should've checked with you first.
Are you alright?
I mean, going through my things like this,
that is not the Livvy I know.
What's wrong?
I'd like it if you packed your things and left.
And it's Olivia.
Not Livvy.
Is everything alright?
Oh, £350's not a bad price, considering.
What's the problem?
Your police antenna was right, Max.
I didn't sell this.
I found it in Simon's room.
He's been helping himself to your Dad's books.
Little bastard, conning old people.
People. Conning people.
I looked at his eBay account.
This is the sixth one he sold.
"Snapdragon."
He's not bloody dyslexic either.
Is he still at yours?
Yes, but I told him to pack his things.
Leave it with me.
Can I have a word?
What about?
About a video.
Are these from Mr Clarke's pockets?
- Yes, sir. - Thank you.
You've knocked him out cold.
Paramedics have taken him to hospital for a scan.
Five days ago, Simon Turnbull saw you receiving money
from Andrew Knightley.
The day before, Knightley withdrew £500 from his account.
Is this what's left of it?
You'll have to ask Knightley.
- Well, we can't, can we? - Why not?
He was murdered four days ago.
Pushed onto the tracks at South Ken tube.
You didn't know?
Did Andrew ask you to pay Simon a visit?
Start of the week, I saw Simon arguing with Knightley
about a video.
Simon wanted him to pay five grand
or he'd put it up on YouTube.
So you offered to help?
£500's cheaper than five grand.
You're all heart.
Simon Turnbull takes a lot of selfies.
I found this bible in Simon's room.
The passages marked are the same as the ones
on Andrew Knightley's mirror.
Is that Hayley from the Stonemasons?
Do you think they're more than just friends?
Maybe.
Hello.
Looks like it was Simon gaslighting Knightley.
I bet he was drugging him too.
There's an unmarked folder here.
It's video files.
- That's the spy camera footage. - Yeah.
Andrew waking up,
opening the curtains.
Andrew laying out clothes,
Andrew leaving, coming back with a mug of tea.
Andrew...
Oh.
Oh, dear.
And there's Hayley again.
Please God, forgive me.
Candle wax.
Forgive me for my sins.
Whose idea was it to target Andrew?
Yours or Simon's?
Did you know he was drugging Andrew Knightley?
No.
Did you give Simon Andrew's keys?
This is Simon's laptop.
Oh, please, God, forgive me.
Forgive me for my sins.
Forgive me for my...
Last month, Andrew and I were working late.
He was acting strangely, like he was scared to go home,
so I asked him what was wrong.
He said a ghost was leaving him these messages to punish him.
For what?
For his sins.
But you knew it was Simon leaving them?
Not until much later.
At first, I thought Andrew was writing them to himself.
Then, Simon told me it was him.
He said it was a prank.
But Andrew was convinced
the only way to stop the messages was for him...
For him to punish himself.
I tried to talk him out of it.
Then he asked if I would help.
I didn't know what to say.
I felt sorry for him, so I said sure, I'd help.
I didn't know what he had in mind till I turned up.
The jewelry was a thank you gift.
Or payment, I suppose.
Only happened a couple of times.
Did you confide in Simon that this was going on?
That's when he told me it was him writing the messages.
I told him to stop. It wasn't funny.
I had no idea he planned on filming it.
Assured me I was doing the right thing by helping Andrew.
You still haven't unpacked, Max.
I've been a bit busy!
This actually makes sense to you?
Yeah.
It's how I see things.
Right, let's separate the murder from the mirror-writing.
We can't place Simon,
Hayley, or Davinson Clarke at South Ken tube.
What if Andrew Knightley genuinely thought a ghost
was writing to him?
If so...
was that his ghost?
Who is she?
Hayley said he hated working on that.
The Angel Gabriel.
Gabriel. Gabriel...
Gabrielle.
Gabriella.
Andrew's search history.
Two weeks before he died, he searched for
"Gabriella, Tottenham."
When did his daughter say his accident was?
Um, uh, June, July 2012.
Here it is.
Tottenham Record, 20th of June, 2012.
Gabriella Hadlow, 19 years old, charity worker.
Died following a hit-and-run.
There's a photo.
Yeah, it's her.
She worked for Crisis.
Gabriella Hadlow?
That barbecue that Andrew dragged Hayley to.
It was for a charity.
Hadlow. Hadlow.
Hadlow...
Hadlow House?
Was it Hadlow House?
Yeah, here it is, Hadlow House.
"Taking action to end homelessness."
Founded in May 2013 by family
and friends of Gabriella Hadlow, in her memory.
Where have I seen that logo before?
An eyewitness, Toby Spencer,
supplied Haringey with a description of the driver.
White male, 50s, red saloon, but they never found him.
- Did you? - Oh, yes.
According to the DVLA,
a 2008 red Mondeo
registered to Katherine Knightley,
Andrew's wife, was updated SORN
on the 2nd of August, 2012.
He took it off the road.
I've checked his insurance records,
and there's no sign of a claim.
He scrapped it, destroyed the evidence.
There was a survivor,
suffered minor injuries.
In the vehicle?
No, friend of the deceased.
With her when the collision occurred.
Listed in the report as Jane Reece.
Wait.
Middle name, Erin.
Thanks, Jess.
Erin told us that she volunteered for a charity.
That's where I've seen that logo before.
The busker's coffee cup.
But on CCTV, there was no sign of her.
White with a blue ripple.
Afternoon, Mrs. Murphy.
- May we have a word? - Please.
How can I help?
We wanted to ask you about an accident in 2012.
A hit-and-run which resulted in the death of a young lady
called Gabriella Hadlow.
We believe Andrew Knightley was the driver
of the vehicle responsible.
What can you tell us about that?
Gabriella's family speak very fondly of you.
We know you volunteer for a charity called Hadlow House.
And according to their schedule,
the morning Andrew Knightley died,
you were doing the breakfast run,
serving food and hot drinks from the back of their van
a short distance from South Kensington station.
That schedule's wrong. I was...
You knew Andrew Knightley would be at the station
at that time of the day.
- No. - Working for the homeless,
you know about the broken fire door
at the back of the station.
That's how you gained access, isn't it,
Erin?
Mrs. Murphy, is this your coat?
Yes.
White with a blue ripple.
We found this on the tracks near Andrew Knightley's body.
You must have lost it when you pushed him.
June 2012.
What happened that night?
We were walking back from the college bar,
like we did a few times each week.
Then this car...
It was like it appeared from nowhere.
Andrew Knightley was driving?
I wasn't sure till I saw him again.
When was that?
When I started working here about three years ago.
I recognized him, but he didn't know me from Eve.
Did you confront him?
What would he have said? That he was sorry?
I know why he didn't wait around,
why he didn't go to the police.
Way he was driving, he was clearly drunk.
I did what Gabby would've done. I decided to...
understand him,
to forgive him.
So what changed?
When we organized the barbecue and Andrew offered
to pay for it all, I thought it was a kind gesture.
I thought he was a good man after all,
that he had remorse for what he'd done.
I could've lived with that.
But then he told me about his ghost,
sent me that text.
"An evil in my home."
How dare he.
"An evil in my home."
That's how he described her.
"An evil in my home."
How dare he.
So you decided to punish him?
Yes.
You went on to the platform to wait for him?
He should've stopped.
He shouldn't have driven off.
A good man would've taken Gabriella to hospital.
A good man would've saved her.
Andrew Knightley was not a good man.
Yes, I pushed him.
I'm so, so sorry.
Paperwork then.
Can it wait until tomorrow?
Only I'd like to go home, if that's okay?
Is everything alright?
Yeah. Yeah.
At least I'm getting there.
I'll see you tomorrow, Max.
Enjoy your smelly boat.
I've been avoiding it.
Oh, I realize that.
I've been tending it until you were ready.
Fighting a losing battle, mind.
Your dad would have loved that.
Ready?
Bye, Dad.