(playful orchestral music) (ducks quacking) PROFESSOR T: As you are no doubt aware, even in this exalted realm of ours, miscarriages of justice can and do occur.

Can anyone give me the primary cause?

Enlighten us.

Oh, uh, sorry, I've forgotten.

(laughter) Ah, a witticism.

The primary cause of miscarriages of justice is faulty recall... hence the joke.

Eyewitnesses failing to remember what they have seen, seeing what they expect to see, hearing what they expect to hear.

(ominous music swells) (orchestral music continues) Memory is not static.

It is a dynamic, creative process.

It has the power to soothe.

It has the power to terrify.

(ominous music swells) (panicked breathing) (exhales deeply) (ominous music swells) Socrates regarded memory... (sinister music) (breathes heavily) as a wax imprint on the mind.

(high-pitched ringing) This view persisted until 1929, (heavy breathing) when, at this very university, Frederick Bartlett... (sinister music grows louder) (fades into wistful music) demonstrated how memories were changed... (gloves rustling) (quiet coughing in background) ...and in some cases, completely transformed on each remembering.

If you'll excuse me.

Morning.

Morning.

(romantic music) (seagulls calling) Mr. Lewis, glad to have you back on board.

-Thank you.

Ah.

Thank you.

Miss McQueen.

Ophelia, please.

Help yourself to welcome drinks.

Hm, thank you.

(car door closes) CAPTAIN: The rest of your party?

Vicky and Byram.

OPHELIA: Byram's gym membership's not going to waste.

I'll freshen up.

I was sorry to hear about your mother.

She's right here.

(thunder rumbling) VICKY: We're in number six.

BYRAM: Okay, number six.

JC: ...sake Ophelia.

OPHELIA: Always about you, isn't it?

You and your friends, your mother, and I never get anything back, and I feel exhausted.... She's started early.

(squabbling) (soulful party music) Ah, ah-ah-ah.

Listen, it's probably none of my business, at all.

You and Ophelia, you okay?

(JC inhales) Mm, well, she has her moments.

Mm.

That's the problem.

Mm.

Your mum's ashes?

Ophelia's like, why do we have to scatter them at sea?

Just bin them.

And it's not like she's gonna care.

(laughs) Yeah, yeah.

(sighs) (thunder rumbling) BYRAM: I can't believe you've done that.

I cannot believe you've done that.

Oh, my gosh.

Will you come in with me?

(keycard beeps) Come in?

Sh...she's not gonna yell at me if you're there.

(sighs) (storm outside continues) Ophelia?

(foreboding music) Ophelia?

She's been sick.

No wonder.

(thunder crashes) JC: ...and we think she's had a bit to drink.

Vicky's tried the cabins on that side.

We'll find her.

Take over, please.

(storm rages) CREW: Uh, sorry to bother you, guys, I don't suppose you've seen a woman... She's been in there.

(knocking) Can smell her perfume.

I'm sorry to bother you, we're looking for a young woman.

Red hair, about this height.

PASSENGER: No, I didn't see her.

Sorry to wake you.

We've lost somebody.

White dress, red hair.

Uh, I saw someone go onto the upper deck.

Red hair, but I didn't notice her dress.

(dramatic music) (rain pours) (thunder crashes) JC: Ophelia!

VICKY: Ophelia!

JC: Ophelia!

VICKY: Ophelia!

(bellowing) Ophelia!

(soft music) How's your mother enjoying her world tour?

Yesterday, she visited the Sagrada Familia.

Chintzy and garish, apparently.

Tomorrow, she will be passing judgment on the Sistine Chapel.

(sneezes) Oh, bless you.

Let's talk about these intrusive thoughts you've been experiencing.

Mm.

Six months since DI Donckers died.

Six months since you last helped the police.

Losing, of course, any attendant therapeutic benefits.

Any sign that these thoughts are beginning to recede?

Quite the opposite.

Until today, they were mainly precipitated by requests from DS Winters, DCI Goswami.

Until today?

I was delivering a lecture on memory, of all things, uh, when...quite unexpectedly... (ominous music swells) (music fades) (ominous music swells) (high-pitched ringing) (ominous music swells) (music fades) (ringing subsides) I'm so sorry, can we please change the subject?

Jasper...

I was wondering about the... (playful music) -Your curtain is moving.

-Sorry?

Your curtain is moving.

Oh... (irritable meow) that's the Home Secretary.

Did I not mention my allergy to felines?

Also, if I may, the Home Secretary?

Homey.

I'll transfer him to the Foreign Office.

-Yes, please.

-Good boy.

(meows) (sneezes) (sighs) (door closes) Yes, I was...

I was wondering about the dual benefits of music.

The distraction of a physical activity.

Well, it, it needn't be a long, laborious learning process.

An instrument I can just pick up and play?

It can liberate you from thinking.

I do not wish to appear obstructive, but at the moment, I can find no joy in music.

Everything is, uh, out of tune.

(sneezes) Bless you.

DCI GOSWAMI: Hi.

Hi.

So, who's missing?

Ophelia McQueen, 24 years old.

She was on board with her boyfriend of six months, JC Lewis.

Two friends, Vicky and Byram Stafford.

-JC?

-John.

He goes by JC.

So, his mother recently died, left him a wad.

She used to go with him on his trips, and yesterday was supposed to be a 'scatter the ashes' farewell.

'Scatter the ashes' farewell?

And what does this Ophelia McQueen do?

Influencer.

(scoffs) One question.

Why are we here?

-Oh.

-Our stats are flatlining.

Paul retired like two months ago.

You're getting it in the neck from the Deputy Chief.

I know, but the missing person lives in our catchment area.

So...

When's our new DI start?

About that.

The powers above have decided that a newly probationed DC is all we need.

(seagulls calling) So, talking of health, if you...

I think the university stopped giving The Prof my messages.

Oh.

(soft tense music) Ophelia loved these trips.

She was in high spirits when we arrived.

You, um, welcomed them on board.

How...how did they seem?

Were they happy?

Seemed to me she had a thing for JC's friend.

VICKY: We were passing their cabin.

Ophelia was giving JC a earful.

About what?

She was jealous of JC's mother.

Despite her being dead?

Well, JC and his mother were close.

Close?

How would you describe it?

She had him like that.

He invited her on our trips 'cause he was scared of her.

She wrote books about childcare.

She was the first let-the-baby-cry guru.

Tell them, you've known him a lot longer than I have.

I've known JC since we were kids.

Summer days, we were out playing, he's at his bedroom window, locked up for being naughty, nine, ten years old.

WOMAN: I saw her heading to the upper deck.

And you're with...?

Uh, just me.

Um, I'm supposed to be meeting friends in Amsterdam.

Not now, obviously.

DS WINTERS: And did you see Ophelia before her... disappearance?

Yeah.

(foreboding music) (knocks echoing) How did she seem?

Shut the door, I'm half naked.

(glass smashes) Not happy.

(mysterious music) The last person to talk to her would have been the barman.

BYRAM: Yeah, he took champagne to her cabin.

She was just out of the shower.

Just, uh, leave it there.

Is that her?

Yeah, that's her.

CAPTAIN: I called the RNLI and notified the Coast Guard.

That was your immediate response?

Given the rough sea and the fact that the passenger had drunk a bottle of champagne.

If she's leaning over the guardrail to be sick... She's gone overboard?

I'm afraid so.

(mysterious music fades) DR GOLDBERG: An experience of death, for some people, opens up the potential for change.

A, a shift towards a more authentic self.

You don't believe that a death can be transformational?

Your subtext is showing.

Is it?

These intrusive thoughts are merely symptoms of my resistance to change.

If I remove the gloves, they will magically evaporate.

Ah.

But before DI Donckers died, you'd achieved the breakthrough that we'd been working towards.

-We?

-Now, any breakthrough inevitably comes freighted with uncertainty.

(sighs) You'd removed the gloves.

But before you had time to be comfortable in that position, a tragedy occurred.

So, the gloves went back on, (playful music) and you were back in control.

Except, of course, you weren't.

And maybe these intrusive thoughts are a measure of your refusal to accept, or... or therefore deal with, the guilt you feel about Lisa.

(coughs) I'm so sorry, I must go.

Oh...no, we've got five minutes.

The air is full of cat mites.

They are riding moats of dust like microscopic Valkyrie.

The whole place needs an immediate and intense fumigation.

(coughing continues) (door closes) (mutters) Jasper, Jasper, Jasper.

(sniffs) Hello, Margo, I, I see I've missed two calls.

(sobbing) Helena, Ophelia is missing.

Are you okay?

Her boyfriend called, and he said she'd fallen overboard and I don't know what to do.

(ominous music) (sirens wailing) (mutters) Come on.

(jaunty music) (rattling) You piece of...

Uh, DC Highsmith?

(clears throat) Ma'am.

Uh, sorry, I was just adjusting it.

DCI Goswami, this is DS Winters.

We'll be working closely together.

(clears throat) It's weird, this, isn't it, just... being at work and not in uniform.

(music stops abruptly) For me.

Probably not, probably not for you.

Um...

I made, I made brownies.

You only get the one chance at a first impression.

You've certainly done that.

Why don't you bring DC Highsmith up to speed on today, and we can reconvene in an hour, yeah?

(sweeping orchestral music) (keys jangling) (lock clicks) (door slams) (dog whimpers) (dog whimpers) I know you will not forget her.

(door shuts) (sinister music) (dog growls) Who is it?

(creaking) (dog barking) (sinister music swells) (dog yelps) Who's there?

(sinister music climaxes) Jasper.

My lord, look at you.

I won't come out, I'm in the absolute nuddy.

Where does your mother keep her towels?

-Um... -Oh, no, no, don't worry.

I'll find them.

(door creaks closed) (footsteps receding upstairs) (footsteps continue hurriedly) (door opens) I never could get into Adelaide's clothes.

She's so much taller, much bigger tits.

Aunt!

Oh, Jasper, (kiss) it's so lovely to see you.

Aunt Zelda, I do not wish to be rude, but... Jasper, darling, you're always rude.

It's so sweet.

Why are you here?

Your mother got in touch.

Wasn't convinced that between you and the dog walker, Kafka's emotional needs were being met.

Hm.

No, no, don't look at these.

Publishers talking about a retrospective.

I mean, honestly... do I look like someone who's ready to be set in aspic?

Don't answer that.

Well... how's the old gang?

I was not aware that there was a gang, uh, regardless of age.

How's Wilfred?

The dean?

He's, um... he's the dean.

Hm.

Our priority is to just make sure we're ticking all the boxes.

That's good.

-Yeah.

DC Highsmith?

Okay, um, in the file it's listed as an accidental death, but...

I don't know.

Surely it's a suspicious death.

Why?

Well, Ophelia, the woman who's been pushed overboard, she's arguing with her boyfriend.

She's embarrassing him in front of his friends, like all those kind of people.

Mm, those kind of people?

Well, you know, like, um... like luxury yacht people.

(inquisitive music) Everything's about appearance.

JC has paid for this whole thing, and it is meant to be about commemorating his mum.

But Ophelia?

No, she wants to make the whole thing about her.

And believe me, I have known plenty of people like that.

There was this one girl I went to uni with, and I swear to God, every single... that's not important.

Um... Look, there's just a lot of tense vibes.

That's what I'm getting.

I...look, I think she's been pushed.

(phone ringing in background) Sorry, um... Yeah, uh, I've had a lot of caffeine today.

The coffees here are... really strong.

I had no idea.

I think you've made a lot of good points there.

Really good.

Would you write them up for me, please?

-Yeah.

-Thank you, that's great.

Tense vibes.

(chuckles) You've got to take her to meet Ophelia McQueen's parents.

Thanks.

One more thing.

That office has been left empty long enough.

That's a DI's office.

I know, but Chloe needs somebody to look up to.

She needs to learn from you, and that office is all part of it.

Have a brownie.

(footsteps receding) (car decelerating) (birds singing) (brakes squeak) (handbrake clicks) Should I call them Mr. and Mrs. McQueen, or Margo and Chris?

You're not calling them anything, alright?

I'll do the talking.

I've done this before.

Yeah?

Four... five times?

In uniform.

I li...I like to be thrown in at the deep end.

Well this isn't a straightforward notification of death.

-I know.

I've got this.

Okay.

Just speak slowly.

And try to avoid phrases like 'thrown in at the deep end'.

(seat belt clicks) (dog barking) Oh.

Um, good afternoon.

I'm... DC Highsmith, and this is... DS... -DS Winters.

Winters.

Um, please could you confirm for me your name, and is English your first language?

What's happened?

(silence) Could you confirm your name for me?

Um, I...I'm Margo McQueen.

I've, I've been trying to get information.

I'm afraid that I have got some ba... (mobile phone rings) ...sorry, um, bad news.

I'm sorry.

Uh, uh, Ophelia's boyfriend called, and he said that...

I'm sorry, excuse me.

Sorry, um...

He said that, um, she.... that she'd, uh, gone overboard.

Tell me it's not true.

I'm extremely sorry, Mrs. McQueen.

That's correct.

Your daughter is, um... No.

She's presumed to have fallen overboard last night.

Oh, God.

Oh.

I'm so sorry.

Is there anyone I can call to be with you?

Um...(sobs) (car zooming) Sorry.

Look, I know the manual says ask if English is their first language, but... come on, like a bit of common sense.

Was that your first?

-Yeah.

-Well, don't lie to me again.

I won't, I...

I swear.

(footsteps up stairs) Dan?

How was that?

A learning experience.

So, forensics have unlocked Ophelia McQueen's phone.

You were right, suspicious death.

You can read the exchanges later, but the headline is Ophelia and Byram were having an affair, and Ophelia chose last night to break the news to Byram's wife.

(phone ringing in background) Let's question them again.

(suspenseful music) Byram and Vicky were incredibly supportive when my mother died.

Er...

It was their idea to scatter her ashes.

Who paid for the trip?

I did.

My mother left me some money.

Her car, her farmhouse.

DS WINTERS: So, you and JC spend around two hours in the bar.

At the start of the evening, you went to his cabin.

I knocked, and JC came to the door.

(door opening) BYRAM: Ophelia's lost her mind.

Shut the door, I'm half naked.

(glass smashes) -So, you saw her around nine?

-Yeah.

How long had you two been together?

Six months.

Before Ophelia's disappearance, she was embroiled in quite a heated exchange with you.

She was drunk.

What was it about?

Our trip was supposed to be about JC commemorating his mother, and, well... Ophelia can pick her moments.

For what?

To let me know she and my husband were having an affair.

(dramatic beat) DCI GOSWAMI: Now, why didn't you tell us about that earlier?

Byram and I, we thought it'd be better, spare JC's feelings.

DCI GOSWAMI: Was it an open relationship?

No.

Ophelia's quite old-fashioned in that respect.

But you fought?

No more than usual.

We loved each other.

(paper rustling) Two months ago.

(panicked breathing) DS WINTERS: You went to her cabin.

No.

(dramatic beat) (knocking) OPHELIA: Go away.

Open the door.

Ophelia!

-DS WINTERS: You were seen by a member of staff.

Open the door.

OPHELIA: Go away.

I didn't go in.

(sighs) What?

I threw her overboard?

(knocking) Ophelia?

I only wanted to talk to her.

Right, and, uh, and say what?

I wanted to know who initiated it.

DCI GOSWAMI: In the bar, you received increasingly angry messages from your wife.

The last one reads, "I need to talk to you now."

So, what did you talk about?

Nothing.

I mean, I never left the bar.

(sinister music) The bar is equipped with CCTV.

You were gone for nine minutes.

I stepped out to call Vicky.

Byram, you didn't make any call.

I was trying to figure out what I was going to say.

And then I bottled it.

For nine minutes?

Yeah.

(dramatic beat) DS WINTERS: When Byram came back to the bar, how did he seem?

Did his manner change?

I just thought he was tired.

When you left the bar for the second time, you discovered that Ophelia, the source of all your problems, has disappeared.

What are you saying?

(birds singing) (church bell chiming) (keys jangling) (lock clicks) (water sloshing) (door opens) (distant music) Wilfred.

Zelda.

(chuckles) Did...did Jasper tell you I was here?

No, I...I had no idea.

I'm under strict instructions.

Adelaide's plants.

How long's it been?

I'm sorry?

I'm trying to work out the last time we spoke.

Was it Freddy's funeral?

No.

I don't seem to have much luck with husbands.

Don't you?

Lucky to find them, unlucky to lose them.

You would have saved me a lot of heartache.

(water pouring) You're watering your shoes.

Oh, goodness.

WILFRED: Mm.

(watering can clangs) Here.

Is The Delight still open?

Uh, it's a fancy restaurant now.

Shall we meet?

Sample the cocktails?

I don't really drink.

Mocktails, then.

Wilfred, I'd love to find out what you've been up to.

(melancholic piano music) I don't think I've ever sampled a mocktail.

(chuckles) (door shuts firmly) (distant traffic) (indistinct chatter) (knocks) Miss Snares, brownies.

(jazzy music plays in background) For you.

Oh, my.

Just, um... just to say thanks for years of help.

Is The Professor in?

He's at lunch.

-I'll go in and wait.

-Oh, no, you won't.

I'm unbribable.

How is he?

Ah, you always said he got so much out of working with us.

He did seem happier.

(inhales) And healthier.

(distant voices from the corridor) I wasn't here.

(playful music) Leave the brownies.

(grasping) (door closes) Mm.

(quiet chatter) (gulps) (gulps) (sighs) How long do we give them?

Give them?

Give them for what?

Well, it appears I've been stood up.

Ah.

And you think I'd know something about that?

No...oh good lord no, good grief.

No, that'd be very ungentlemanly of me.

(laughs) May I buy you a drink, please?

By way of apology.

Okay.

Why not?

I'll have a vodka martini.

Very cold, very dry... very full.

Do you know?

I've never had one of those.

Why don't you join me?

Yes.

Peter.

Zelda.

Please sit.

(river flowing) (footsteps approaching) (door opens) How did you get in?

I waited till Miss Snares left.

I am far too busy.

Well, you won't answer any of my calls, so what am I supposed to do?

We have a woman overboard.

(foreboding music) (paper scrunching) She's presumed dead, although we haven't found her body yet.

(high-pitched ringing) We believe she was murdered.

Professor?

(ringing and music subside) You should not be in here.

Please leave.

(footsteps receding) (door closes) (sighs deeply) (mobile phone rings) (sighs) I fail to understand what a woman falling off a yacht has to do with me...or you.

Ophelia's mother and I are trustees of the same charity.

And she feels that the police are withholding information.

So, if you could possibly go and talk to them and see if you can find... -This is a ruse.

A ruse?

What are you talking about?

What you have described to me is an accidental death.

While your therapeutic goal to involve me in police work is laudable, the method by which you seek to obtain it is crude.

Oh, my God, does anything ever happen that's not about you?

I'm...I'm watching my friend, who is a good, kind woman, go through torture.

She doesn't know if her daughter fell overboard, if she was murdered, if she killed herself.

She doesn't know for sure if she's actually dead.

(sinister music) (Dr Goldberg sighs) Jasper, please.

I'm asking you a favor.

There's no therapeutic intention here.

Goodbye.

(beep) (dramatic beat) Professor!

I require immediate access to the interviews you carried out in relation to the Ophelia McQueen investigation.

Hello, how are you?

I'm fine.

Did DS Winters request your help?

I need to view the tapes alone.

Without being disturbed.

I didn't think you could get much stranger.

And yet here we are.

Ha.

Right.

(rousing music) I saw her heading to the upper deck.

-DS WINTERS: And you're with...?

-Just me.

I was supposed to be meeting friends in Amsterdam.

Not now, obviously.

She's been in there.

I can smell her perfume.

JC: Byram and Vicky were incredibly supportive when my mother died.

DCI GOSWAMI: And who paid for the trip?

I did.

My mother left me some money.

Er...

Her car, her farmhouse.

OPHELIA: Shut the door, I'm half naked!

(glass smashes) DS WINTERS: Is that her?

OPHELIA: Just, uh, leave it there.

Yeah, that's her.

DCI GOSWAMI: Was it an open relationship?

JC: No.

CAPTAIN: Miss McQueen.

Ophelia, please.

JC: Ophelia's quite old-fashioned in that respect.

VICKY: She was jealous of JC's mother.

DCI GOSWAMI: Despite her being dead?

Well, JC and his mother were close.

Close?

DS WINTERS: How would you describe it?

She had him like that.

She wrote books about childcare.

She was the first let-the-baby-cry guru.

(spirited music) (birds singing) (rhythmic tapping) (rhythmic tapping) (drums echo tapping) (determined drumming) (drumming ends abruptly) Have you just had some good news?

Oh, heavens, no.

(chuckles) But while I do not entirely hold with the philosophy of antinatalism, I do have a smidgen of sympathy for those for whom the very notion of procreation is ill-conceived.

There is a joke there.

(chuckles meekly) I have of late, as a way of dispersing dark clouds of sorrow, been experimenting with humor.

(drumming returns) (drumming ends abruptly) (inquisitive music) (bell rings) Oh.

Have you got news?

I need to borrow your car.

You don't drive.

I also need to borrow you, as the licensed operator and legal owner.

But why, why, why do you w... sorry, what...?

Look, actually, can we not do this on the doorstep?

(footsteps recede) Time is, as they say, of the essence.

I would rather explain our predicament as we drive.

Drive where?

I've got a client in 10 minutes.

Ophelia McQueen was not murdered.

She is not dead.

She was never on the yacht.

(suspenseful music) What?

But her friends all saw her.

And her mother told me at length what happened...

Her mother was not there.

(seagulls calling) Her friends saw her from a distance.

No.

This is nonsense.

Somebody saw her throw a...a... a glass at her boyfriend.

Shut the door, I'm half naked!

Byram Stafford glimpsed a woman he assumed was Ophelia.

He heard a glass smash.

Vicky could smell her perfume.

...can smell her perfume.

Are you identifying a pattern?

Vicky talked with her.

No, they did not talk.

They exchanged text messages.

In all of the interviews, there is not one positive sighting of Ophelia from anyone who knew her well.

What about her boyfriend?

I believe he has her locked away.

When he talked about her, he spoke in the present tense.

Ophelia is quite old-fashioned in that respect.

DR GOLDBERG: Which is what people do when they're in grief.

Jasper, have you talked to the police about any of this?

No.

If we inform the police, they will bring JC in for questioning, and he will become aware of their suspicions.

He will then avoid the place where Ophelia is incarcerated, and she will starve to death.

But we, we have to ke...keep watch until he leads us to her.

This is insane.

Do you want to save your friend's daughter?

Hang on.

Byram told Margo that he and Ophelia had Buck's Fizz when they arrived.

And they saw a cormorant.

Memory is a creative process.

Byram has conjured up a previous visit.

(tuts) Jasper... (sighs) without wanting to engage in ad hoc diagnosis, this sounds very much to me like a deflected rescue fantasy.

(somber music) I hesitate to say it, but there was another young woman in danger who you couldn't save.

-No.

No, this has nothing to do with... Ramona Stubbs checked onto the yacht under her own name then left unobserved so that she could return as Ophelia McQueen.

Miss McQueen.

Ophelia, please.

(dramatic beat) We need to talk to DCI Goswami.

No.

I'm wasting time.

(dramatic music climaxes) (playful flute music) They call this a stakeout.

Is this your first?

My second.

First time, I caught my boyfriend leaving Eleanor Swan's flat at three in the morning.

How did he explain that?

He claimed they were having sex.

Talking of less than ideal boyfriends, how sure are you that this JC has got his girlfriend locked up?

If Ophelia McQueen was not on the yacht, then where is she?

The only person capable of engineering the illusion is JC, who, having spent the long summer days of childhood locked away, is now enacting a fantasy of control.

Only this time, he is the one in charge.

Sorry...got distracted when you said yacht.

Oh.

(high tempo music) The eagle has landed.

(ignition growling) Uh, the eagle appears to have driven off.

I can see that.

There's a knack to this.

(engine starts) Yes.

(office chatter) Ophelia's attracting a lot of media interest out there.

Yeah, yeah, I saw a few out front.

(sniffs) Well, if you do engage, we've got a squad of ships and drones all out looking for her.

Right.

And, uh, and if I don't engage...?

It's up to you.

(door shuts) (melancholic music) (phone ringing distantly) (inhales deeply) (knocking) DC HIGHSMITH: DS Winters?

Uh, yeah?

Um, there's a Dr. Goldberg on the phone, says it's urgent.

Okay.

(door closes) (sweeping orchestral crescendo) Hello.

(engine rumbling) (seat belt clicks) What are you doing?

Get back in the car.

(foreboding music) (door bangs) (rustling) (footsteps receding) (seat belt clicks) (sinister music) (panting) (distant creaking) (hushed) Ophelia?

Ophelia?

(creaking) OPHELIA: Who is it?

I've come to take you to safety.

What is the code?

He's upstairs.

(footsteps echoing) He'll kill us both.

I am a criminologist.

His primary need is to control, not to kill.

(footsteps continue) He is on the move.

(whispers) What is the code?

I have no idea.

(sobbing) What are you doing?

The patina on the keys reveals the numbers he used, but not their order.

(beeping) (beep) (beeping) (beep) (rumbling) (sinister music intensifies) (slams shut) (whispers) Nine, two, ten.

(beeping) (buzzing) We should perhaps make haste.

(whispers) This way.

(tense music) I have a car, take us to safety.

Stop.

Put your hands up.

Up!

We're going back inside.

If I go in there I'm never coming out again.

-In!

-I'd rather die out here.

So, if I kill him, that's on you then?

I don't know what you want.

He's got them both.

The Professor and the young woman.

He's got them at gunpoint.

Okay, get her to safety.

When you're out of range, call for backup.

-Sir... Now.

We're going back inside.

JC, when your mother died... rules and morals.

Don't talk about my mother.

(coughs) DS WINTERS: Put it down.

-Stay where you are.

-There's gonna be a dozen squad cars here in two minutes.

Put the gun down.

-DS Winters.

-What are you gonna do, JC?

Are you gonna shoot everyone?

-Stay there!

JC, you are not a killer.

You want to test that?

-I understand why you took... -Shut up.

Shut up.

You're looking at 12 months for kidnap, alright?

You don't want to spend the rest of your life in prison.

Argh.

Aah.

(gunshot) (struggling) Argh!

(wheezing) (groaning) Six months, then this?

How did you know to come here?

Dr. Goldberg did what you should have done.

Dan, look, I'm so sorry about that and I'm so... Get an ambulance here.

Get Ophelia checked over.

Make sure she's okay.

Arrange for her to make a statement.

(somber music) (footsteps receding) Thanks.

Are you okay?

Are you alright?

Come along.

(hurried footsteps recede) (sighs) (siren wailing) DCI GOSWAMI: I've spoken to DC Highsmith.

Brand new to this department she is, brand new.

And this is the example we set.

I've already lost one young officer in the line of duty.

And I refuse... to experience that again.

I assured Detective Sergeant Winters that JC Lewis wouldn't have pulled the trigger.

I can speak for myself.

Thank you, Professor.

(footsteps receding) DC Highsmith said You were brave.

Don't worry, I put her right.

But what worries me, Dan, is your blatant disregard for your own safety.

The Professor got us into a situation, and I had to take appropriate action.

(scoffs) Did you know that the woman who killed Lisa is getting sentenced tomorrow?

No.

The CPS thinks she'll get life.

I think you should take the day off.

Go along.

It might bring you some closure.

No, I've got too much work on.

(footsteps approaching) DCI GOSWAMI: Uniform have brought Ramona Stubbs in.

She's admitted that she was paid off by Lewis to impersonate his girlfriend.

But she claims she has no idea why.

Okay, I'll, uh, I'll speak to the McQueens.

Great, thanks.

Ma'am?

Yes?

I think I might be better suited to being in uniform.

DCI GOSWAMI: Well, yes, you've... got a few things wrong.

But you got a lot of things right.

And you just feel bad because you're smart.

Smart people worry more about their mistakes.

I know it's hard.

But you'll learn faster.

Trust me.

(emotional music) (footsteps receding) Hey.

One more call-out.

-(whispers) Yeah.

-Margo McQueen wants to see us.

(sobbing) (indistinct conversation) DC HIGHSMITH: Take care of yourself, yeah?

(dog barking) This is the best job in the world.

(chuckles) (whispers) Thanks.

(seat belt clicks) (cymbal chimes) (mobile phone ringing) Dr. Goldberg.

Yes, I'm sorry to bother you at home.

But my friend Margo was adamant that I should let you know how grateful she is.

(cymbal chiming) You... My idea that you re-engage with the police seems to have worked out rather well for everyone.

Wouldn't you agree?

If I did not agree, then I would have said so.

Okay.

I shall see you next week.

(sighs) (drumming) (whimsical music) (footsteps approaching) Where did we leave off?

Memory.

Indeed.

Memory.

A dynamic process with the power to terrify.

(ominous music swells) (high-pitched ringing) (ringing subsides) (whimsical music continues) And the power to soothe.

It is, perhaps... one of life's most precious gifts.