Try the chapter on Peacock and the Romantics.
Sure.
Good luck tonight. You'll be late for your lecture, Miss Harding.
'We apologise to customers for the delay to Oxford trains.
This is due to signal malfunction at Didcot.'
Hammy.
Coming to hear the honeyed words of our glorious golden boy?
Yes, I am, Norman. Walking?
You and your carbon footprint.
Beautiful. Which?
Both. They're children.
Ginny, this is Robert. Ginny.
I've heard a lot about you. All good, I hope.
Glowing.
Are you a Dorian Crane fan?
My daughter rates him.
But it's not my cup of tea, all this historical fantasy stuff.
Not a patch on Dan Dare.
Where do you fit in?
Ginny's Dorian's mother.
Oh, sorry. She got us in.
We were students together. It wasn't...
It's fine. Dorian dedicated his first book to Ginny.
I'm very lucky.
You said you weren't coming.
I'm not. I'm going. I just brought Jean and Robert along.
I've got a parents' meeting. How are you, Jean?
Where's your muse? She should be here by now.
Oxford University has long enjoyed tellers of fantastic tales:
Charles Williams with his ghosts and doppelgangers,
the witches and wardrobes of CS Lewis,
Tolkien and his elvish strife.
Quite how this talented
and disgustingly modest young tale-teller
juggles junior research fellow
with best-selling author, I wish I knew his secret.
To read from his new novel Boxlands,
Dorian Crane.
Thank you, Professor Deering.
"The heart pangs of the princess were as nothing
against the cry from her beloved prince,
echoing from the stone halls
into the night, and out into the Halfwoods,
where time disappears...
..and the known world stops."
Alice.
Bloody train, and I left my phone on the bus.
"Every vasty field and daisy meadow
endured a scouring to the inchworth,
their moonsilver blades sliced through
many a neck in the creaking crickpine forest.
But still, their quest
was countless country miles from done.
And all they had were the talking horses...
..and 13 days."
Thanks very much. There you go.
Hello.
Can you imagine?
Thanks very much.
Easy, Hayden.
I'll have to call her Calliope now, Jem.
Who?
Calliope is chief of the ancient muses.
"If it wasn't for my fiancee and our intimate make-believe worlds,"
confesses Dorian, "Boxlands would never have been born."
Publicity. It's not true.
Make sure you get a cut of the royalties when you're married.
I handed in my notice today.
Harvard here we come.
And what will you do while Dorian
is inculcating the mysteries of creative writing
into those eager, little American minds?
I don't know yet. Stay in Oxford. Come back to college.
Do your doctorate. It's more fun. I can have you to myself.
My deputising service - a patient.
Her second fall this week. I'm afraid I have to call it a night.
Oh, no. Bye, darling.
Cheers, now. Jem.
Lyn? And it's her birthday.
Pretty name. Pretty daughter.
Birthday kisses. Pass them on.
I will.
She'll be dead pleased.
I'm more of a Swallows And Amazons girl myself.
Sorry. Oh, no.
Why don't I come back to your room?
I wish you could.
Especially tonight.
You're so good.
At kissing?
Reading aloud. Oh.
I'm sorry, darling.
It'll be too late by the time I've schmoozed my agent...
This way, Dorian. Here we go.
A fountain of blood.
Fountain? Spurt?
She'd have been dead within two minutes.
The jugular vein was sliced right through. By a piece of the mirror?
On reflection, yes.
It's too early for jokes. And too early for Inspector Lewis.
He's on his way. What's that?
I do bodies, Sergeant. But I am assuming it's her blood.
UQ... Is that an "A" on the end?
Uqbara?
I've heard that word somewhere.
The lacerations either side of the neck
were more or less symmetrical.
And simultaneous?
Possibly. There were deep incisions in her palms, too.
A defence wound. The attacker could have had
a piece of glass in each hand.
Or the attack itself shattered the mirror?
Absolutely.
In which case...
there should be a frame around here somewhere.
Morning.
Loitering within tent.
Where does she get them? Beano? Dandy?
You don't read comics.
I used to look over the rough boys' shoulders, sir.
Marina Hartner.
Born 1985. Her medical card, 5 Felton Road.
Cowley?
From here, she could have been on her way into town or back home.
Probably home. She was found by a rider around dawn,
who said she saw her yesterday afternoon, probably going into town.
Same clothes? And alone.
No phone. She'd have had a phone.
We're doing a fingertip search of the river bed.
Mystique Noir?
Arm and a leg, that stuff.
Lyn bought some for Val the Christmas before we lost her.
So...smash it down over her head
and pull back unrelenting and side to side.
So the jagged glass saws through her neck.
She resists and cuts her hands trying to save herself.
Thanks.
Post-mortem result as soon as I can.
The display for your Lewis Carroll book was much more tasteful.
And much less prominent.
But then I'm not 26 with gorgeous hair and snake hips.
Can I tempt you to breakfast at high table?
My wife always sends me off with a full belly.
Of course.
Have you never considered the various benefits of a wife?
Or a chum?
Domesticity, be it with man or woman, has its attractions.
But carnal desire saps the energy, so why bother?
Hold back on the detail of how she died for the time being.
And that "Uqbara" word or whatever it is.
Oh, I've remembered. What?
Uqbara. Go on.
Actually, usually it's transliterated with a "K" not a "Q".
You could talk the head off a penny, you, eh?
Uqbara is a place in Iraq.
Case solved, then.
Thanks very much. Iraq.
There's no phone on the river bed. They're searching the bank beyond.
A mirror as a murder weapon, what's that all about?
A complete waste of time.
Her neighbour reckons Marina is either Polish or Venezuelan.
And can we have a word with the council about her recycling bin?
Czech Republic. You might have given me a shout.
What seems to be the problem with the recycling bins?
Seems that she moved to England two years ago
and there's payslips in her name from somewhere called The Grapevine.
That's that pub over by the Sheldonian.
Anything else? Letters? A diary?
No, not yet. There might be something in the laptop.
It's Dorian Crane's first book. Did you meet him last night?
Yeah. He signed his new one for our Lyn.
Might be worth something one day.
More of that perfume.
"Darling Marina, Happy Christmas, all love, Ned."
Ned?
Short for Edward.
* You spread your frigid wings...
Hayden?
I'm going to the shops. Do you want anything? Like a life?
Screw you.
Are you hung-over?
No. I heard you crashing in last night.
You woke me up. Dreaming of America?
Hayden.
Why do you have to go with Dorian?
Because we'll be married. So what?
So what?
Leave me alone.
I just don't want to be stuck here with Dad.
That's all.
You're not Immigration?
Certainly not, Kelly. Better suits.
Yours, maybe.
Is there a problem with Marina's work status, then?
She gets edgy if it comes up. Is she in trouble?
What time did she leave last night?
Early. Nine.
Did she say where she was going? She never does really.
Does she have a boyfriend?
Not that she's told me, but I'd be surprised if there wasn't someone.
She gets a lot of attention. From the customers?
All the time. Anyone in particular?
Just general. Do you know any of them by name?
An Edward or a Ned? Did she ever mention those names?
No. Have you got her mobile number, Kelly?
I've only got the payphone at her place.
And it's Professor Jassim, yeah?
Tell him we'll be right over.
Your suit's perfectly serviceable, sir, I'd say.
Oh, thanks. A new tie, maybe.
I'll put it on my Christmas list.
Start saving.
Hello. Hi.
Professor Hamid Jassim? Yes.
Sergeant Hathaway. Inspector Lewis.
Oh, yes, please come in.
I know you from somewhere.
Randolph last night. You apologised to ME when I bumped into YOU.
That's it. A very English courtesy.
Ah, I see.
You reported the theft of a mirror, sir.
Yes. When I arrived this morning, it was gone.
Is that it?
16th-century Persian.
Is that blood? Yes.
Your door doesn't seem to have been forced.
I never lock it. It's not fitting...
or so I believed... to the ethos of this college.
Who would have known it was here? Anyone. Everyone.
I have a lot of visitors. Students, staff.
Titus Burckhardt. What field are you in, sir?
Comparative religion. You're heard of Burckhardt?
I studied theology.
Where? Cambridge.
My God, how's dear old Lizzy Tronswick?
Still beavering away at her Zoroastrians.
So, when do you reckon it was taken, Professor?
Yesterday evening, after I left for Dorian's occasion.
Say, 7:00.
You didn't come back here last night? No. I drove straight home.
To my always-patient wife.
May I ask where you're from, sir?
Iraq. Have you ever heard of Uqbara?
Uqbara was a very important medieval city just outside Baghdad.
Why? Crossword clue.
You know these clever-clogs types.
Do you ever drink at a place called The Grapevine, by any chance?
I don't drink. Do you know a Marina Hartner?
Marina Hartner?
No.
Well, thanks for your time, Professor.
We'll be in touch about your property.
It's quite a coincidence, that. His mirror
and an Iraqi place name at the murder scene.
What if someone tried to incriminate him?
Or that's what he wants us to think.
Titus Burckhardt? What sort of a name's that?
He was a perennialist.
What do they believe in, low-maintenance gardening?
Perennialists proposed that everlasting divine wisdom
goes back to man's beginnings before religion.
Burckhardt was especially interested in its relationship to Islam.
I've got a book I could lend you. I'll pass, thanks.
Hello again. Ginny.
This is my colleague, James Hathaway.
Hi. Excuse me. Hello.
So, how was your parents' meeting?
"Must do better." Them, not me.
What age do you teach? Little ones.
They're not so much trouble, in theory. Tell me about it.
And I only had two of them. Have you been to see Dorian?
No. Why? Oh, I just assumed.
His room's just there. Yeah, I noticed his name.
Well, nice to see you.
You too. Bye. Bye.
No joy on the next of kin for Marina.
I want her positively identified before we release her name.
What about Kelly from The Grapevine?
No, give her a break.
What was Marina's doctor's name on her medical card?
Dr Jem Wishart.
Who's that?
Just someone I met.
Dorian?
Hi.
Looking for Dorian?
I take it he's not here.
I was looking for him myself. I wanted to borrow a book.
But no luck.
Are you all right, Doctor?
It can't be the first time you've seen a dead body.
It is in that state.
But you can confirm she was your patient, Marina Hartner?
Just.
She registered with the surgery the year before last.
I think she works in a bar. Is that why she came to Oxford, to work?
As far as I know. I only saw her a few times.
Did she ever mention a relationship? A boyfriend?
No.
When did this happen? Last night.
On her way home?
From where?
Work? I don't know.
No, nor do we.
Well... Thank you, sir.
Autopsy report.
Post-mortem interval of two to six hours...ish.
What time did they find her? Dawn...ish.
Say, 4:45, gives us a death between 10:45 and 2:45 this morning.
There were small areas of hyperpigmentation, one on her neck
and on one shoulder. Love bites?
Affectionate nibbles.
Consistent with normal intercourse
and shortly before death and with a condom.
Her jewellery - a couple of rings and a locket.
You can place her at The Grapevine at 9:00,
when her colleague Kelly Belford says she left.
But no sightings till her body was discovered?
Not yet, ma'am, but I've only just put out the appeal.
I need to know where she was and what she was doing.
And who she was doing it with if Dr Hobson's right.
You're assuming this wasn't a random attack?
Yeah, I can't see the killer wandering round
with that mirror on the off-chance
that he might bump into a suitable victim.
No, they'd have been waiting for Marina,
which means they knew the route she took.
What do you make of Professor Jassim?
Well, the only thing that links him to the crime
is that stolen mirror of his,
which he himself alerted us to.
And anyone could have taken it, anyone who knew it was there.
But why a mirror?
What about this "Uqbara" word written in blood?
That's a pretty flamboyant gesture. It must mean something.
An ancient Iraqi town.
Maybe there's a political dimension. There's nothing to suggest it.
I hope not. That's the last thing we need.
Did the search turn up Marina's phone?
No. And this was a premeditated killing.
It wasn't a mugging gone wrong.
She wasn't murdered for her phone, so why did they take it?
Excuse me, ma'am. Sir, I've found Ned.
Where is he? On her laptop.
"If you can't travel to Prague to meet the lady of your dreams,
then she can come to you."
This is it. Testimonials.
"Marina is the most beautiful woman I've ever had the fortune to meet.
Ned from Oxford, England."
That's her.
Excuse me! Excuse me!
Police. What were you doing in Marina Hartner's room?
I'm her friend, I came to get my key from her. Where is she?
I'm afraid she's dead.
My name is Leyla Adan.
I'm a chambermaid at the Randolph Hotel.
I have a room there to live with my job.
Go on.
Marina asked to use my room for one night.
I was visiting cousins in Birmingham,
so I left the key for her over the door.
Why did Marina want your room?
To...be with a man.
It's not proper, but...
she was my friend.
Who was he? I don't know.
Do you know anything about him? His name? No.
Why at the hotel?
Why not entertain him at her place?
She said it was like a game.
A surprise for him.
A big surprise.
When did you last speak to her?
I called her from Birmingham when she was arriving in the room.
On her own phone? Her mobile? Yes.
We need that number, please, Leyla.
We need CCTV from the hotel, staff entrance.
Wherever her phone is, it's switched off.
Get on to her service provider. Let's see the records.
Why do they all need a profusion of initials?
JRR Tolkien?
CS Lewis? JK Rowling.
Carroll was Lewis Carroll, plain and simple.
Hardly simple.
Obsessively taking photographs of little girls?
Complex, I'd say.
Don't judge Carroll by today's tawdry standards.
He admired the beauty of children.
If he did have impure thoughts,
then he didn't act on them.
That's the difference.
Oh, damn.
That puts you three up this term.
This young woman who's been murdered with your mirror...
did I see her with you last month
crossing the quad from your staircase?
Me? No.
It was dark.
So I could have been mistaken. You must have been.
Chess next time. See if I can get my own back.
'..has appealed for information
regarding murder victim Marina Hartner.
'Marina came to Oxford to make a life for herself.
But that life was cut short.
This was a brutal killing of a defenceless young woman.
And we need your help to find the person responsible.
I'm especially interested in hearing from anyone
who saw Marina after nine o'clock yesterday evening,
when she left her work at The Grapevine bar in Oxford.
We know that this young woman lived in the Cowley area.
We're working on the assumption she was either on her way home...'
Ned.
I need a favour, Jem.
Desperately.
Great picture of you two at the launch. - Was it?
- The Oxford Mail. - I thought I looked a bit cheesy,
grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Here, help yourselves.
I was very touched by the dedication of Boxlands.
"For Alice, muse and bride."
I meant it.
Well, congratulations on Harvard, darling.
You certainly kept that quiet, I must say.
It's only just been confirmed.
We'll have to bring the wedding forward.
It's all in hand. First Saturday after term ends.
Good.
What's happened to the garden?
SATs tests and level four targets, that's what.
Why, are you volunteering? You asked for that.
We could come up one Sunday.
Why not? Well, once I've sorted out my schedule.
We will, I promise.
Oh, I dropped in to see you yesterday.
Did that girl tell you? Australian. Pretty.
Melanie? She's one of my students.
What was she doing in my room?
Looking for a book. A girl in your room? Oh, yeah?
My secret lover.
NOW he tells you.
You'd have me to answer to.
Alice and I are going to be so happy.
It'll be perfect.
Alice. Muse and bride.
Alice. Alice.
Alice!
Any joy?
For ten months to April last year, Marina called
the same Oxford number nearly every day.
And received calls from that number. Subscriber Professor Norman Deering.
Deering? He was at the hotel at that book launch.
Norman though, not Edward.
Middle initial E. Norman E Deering.
N-E-D equals Ned. We got him.
Perhaps Deering gave Marina that copy
of Crane's first book we found in her house.
There he is, that's him.
Let's try this the fun way. Ned?
Only to my friends.
Marina Hartner.
Is that the girl who was murdered?
Yes, Professor.
Did you give her a present of perfume?
Have you ever visited this website, sir?
I paid her fare from Prague,
helped her find accommodation,
paid her rent for a couple of months.
Till she was able to stand on her own feet.
You brought her to England to have a sexual relationship.
Yes. But don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.
Meaning what, sir?
Ned Deering doesn't do sex.
Though recently, such desires have crept up on me again,
much to my surprise.
When did you last see Marina?
April Fools' Day last year.
She dismissed me.
Were you angry with her, sir? Cross.
Where were you on Tuesday night after the book launch?
I came back here. And my brother-in-law
phoned me. Jem Wishart.
His daughter's marrying Dorian Crane.
Dr Wishart's your brother-in-law?
Is that why Marina registered with him as her GP?
I recommended him. She needed a doctor. He's a very good one.
Is Dr Wishart aware of your connection with her?
God, no. She's just another patient as far as he's concerned.
And I'd like to keep it that way, please.
Tuesday night?
Jem had been called away from the Randolph
to a patient, but it was a false alarm
so he dropped in here for a brandy or three.
What time was that?
About 11:00.
He stayed for a couple of hours.
Could you be a little more precise?
Rarely, after brandy.
Have you ever heard of a place called Uqbara, sir?
What? In Iraq.
No. I haven't.
Come.
Have you thought about glasses, sir?
For close work.
Sorry, can't hear you. I haven't got my hearing aid in. Whoa!
There she is.
Going in the staff entrance.
9:13. Must have come straight from The Grapevine.
Do you want me to let it run on?
Skip to 10:45 and on from there. Just to be safe.
That's Dr Hobson's earliest time of death.
If Professor Deering is that concerned
about keeping his reputation as a...
What's the word?
Up your street. Celibate.
That's the one.
Maybe... Maybe she's trying to blackmail him.
It'd give us a motive at least. Something to get a handle on.
Instead of antique mirrors and ancient Iraqi towns.
Progress?
Getting there.
Girls' night out.
With Ginny and a couple of others from university days.
Very nice, ma'am.
Thank you. She's lovely, Ginny, don't you think?
She seems...very pleasant, yes, ma'am.
Separated.
50.
She's leaving the hotel at ten to eleven.
Who's she talking to?
There's another possible witness there.
I saw him at the launch with Alice.
Must be the Wishart boy.
How can I help?
We're trying to trace the movements of Marina Hartner
on Tuesday night before she was murdered.
We've established that she was at the Randolph Hotel.
So was I. I was at the Dorian Crane book launch.
Oh. Me, too.
This is my daughter.
She's engaged to Dorian.
These are police officers. They're here about that murder by the river.
She was a patient of mine. I had to identify her.
How ghastly.
We think that your son... Hayden, is it?
..might have seen her as she left.
Hayden? Is he home?
Well, in a manner of speaking.
He inhabits his own little universe. I'll take them across, Dad.
You didn't happen to notice Marina at the hotel?
No, no, I just said.
Anyway, I left early. I was called away to a patient.
An emergency? As it turned out, no.
I'm afraid I ended up in the early hours
putting the world to rights with my brother-in-law.
Do you remember what time you left?
At least one o'clock. Why?
What about you, Miss Wishart, did you see Marina?
Not that I know of. It might be worth asking Dorian.
He recognised her photo in the paper.
He sometimes drank at that bar she worked at.
Hayden has totally gone into himself since Mum died.
When was that? A year ago. Car accident.
Oh, I see. I'm sorry.
That perfume you've got on, is that Mystique Noir?
Yes, I always wear it.
Uncle Norman spoiling me again.
A present from Professor Deering?
He's very generous. You're good on perfumes, for a man.
It reminds me of someone.
Shall we take it from here?
* Out for blood, they turn the tables * Out for blood, they turn the tables
* The iron fist will rule by fear
* Overcome with greed and violence
* We're back for more
* What cost war?
Don't!
A centimetre out and it screws up the tactics.
Can we have the music down so I can hear myself think?
* Oh, where has the world gone now?
Cheers.
We need your help, Hayden.
Yeah?
You know there was a murder the night of Dorian Crane's book launch?
A broken mirror slicing into her neck.
It's weird.
Must have given mega blood spread.
This isn't a horror film.
No.
All right.
You saw the victim outside the hotel.
Did I? It was on CCTV.
She came out of the staff entrance and spoke to somebody in a car.
Oh, yeah.
Was that her?
Yes.
Did you see who was in the car?
Sorry.
Did you hear any of the conversation?
Thanks, anyway.
Try advancing the Gadrillions on your left flank.
What he needs is some fresh air.
Cooped up with his toy soldiers.
War-gaming figures.
Same difference. He's had a hard time. He's lost his mum.
Don't make excuses for him. He's not doing himself any favours.
Backing off into a fantasy world cos life's given him a kick in the face.
* What cost war?
Mr Crane.
Backgammon with Professor Jassim?
Chess.
That's your room.
Oh, there was a young girl from Australia.
Who painted her arse like a dahlia. Good night.
You know what you are, Dorian?
A gold-plated tart.
Come in.
I can't drink this. You've had a good try.
A pint of best, please.
I wouldn't risk the best if you value your taste buds, it's off.
It is not off, sir. It is not off.
It is cloudier than a sad Sunday in Birmingham.
And it tastes like a camel's armpit. Bitter, please.
You've obviously had a more exciting life than me.
Not very difficult, I imagine. You've managed to drink half of it.
Barely a quarter.
If your beer keeping's anything like your fractions, no wonder it's off.
If a beer's off, you can tell from the first sip.
It WAS my first sip.
I had a raging thirst.
I'll bar you one of these days.
Give madam another half. Half?
I paid for a pint! Allow me.
My saviour. How charming. Thank you very much.
Mine host will see you right. LANDLORD SIGHS
They said I'd get a better class of customer in Oxford.
She a regular? Professor Rutherford? A regular nuisance.
So that's Professor Rutherford.
Same again? Please. Yeah.
No, on the house.
Cheers.
I've got a great birthday present for you.
Wait and see.
No, nothing much. Just...
..catching up on work, you know?
Yeah, course I do, love.
I think of her all the time.
No.
Out of the blue, you know?
I don't have to try.
Anyway...
Yeah. You too, love.
Sleep tight, Lyn.
"A good square mirror from an Eastern clime
adorned the royal bedchamber,
its darkly gnarlwood frame lustred
with mother-of-pearl in perfect symmetry.
Since he was a child, young Aldred
had marvelled at tales of the magic mirror.
And how - to those who dared oppose the unrighteous evil
and did earn the princess's wrath -
it brought down a swift and ugly death."
Do you know if Dorian Crane's in?
He's at Prof Deering's lecture. And where's that?
At which point, according to the Hatter,
the Queen of Hearts bawled,
"Off with his head!"
Not "Mad" Hatter, by the way.
Carroll never called him that.
And if you pad out your essays with such tedious irrelevancies,
I shall deduct marks heavily.
This university has a tradition of literary whimsy
from Alice In Wonderland to The Hobbit,
and those simply sickly Narnia sagas.
But only Lewis Carroll, I suggest,
can truly be judged a major literary talent
who will stand the test of time.
It's meant to be the original of Peter's sword
from The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe.
I hope they've got it insured.
Mr Crane?
I signed a copy of my book for you.
To um...Lyn.
Well remembered, sir. May we have a word?
You've reformed the Inklings?
Who were they, a rock band?
No. They were a group of writers who met at The Eagle and Child
to read their new work to each other over a pint.
Tolkien was one. And CS Lewis.
Very cosy.
I'm doing my doctorate on CS Lewis.
The influence of Islam on his third Narnia book,
The Horse And His Boy.
Have you heard of Uqbara?
Not Uqbara, no.
Why, what's this about?
The murder of Marina Hartner.
The girl who worked at The Grapevine?
I saw her picture in the paper.
What happened?
I didn't read the full story. Did you know her?
As a girl who sold me a drink occasionally, yeah.
Her killer smashed a mirror over her head
and cut her throat with it.
That's horrible.
A mirror?
One identically described by you in chapter five of your new book.
That mirror belongs to Professor Jassim.
He's on this staircase, comparative religion. We know.
The mirror was stolen from his room on Tuesday evening.
How do you come to describe it so well?
I borrowed it from him last year.
For inspiration when I was writing Boxlands. It sat on my desk.
I see.
What struck me was that this mirror is used in a brutal murder
and that you write about it bringing down a swift and ugly death.
Yeah, by magic.
It's not literal.
You obviously didn't read to the end of the chapter.
I'm a policeman, Mr Crane, not a fan.
You knew the victim.
You described the murder weapon.
Hardly KNEW her.
And I've explained about the mirror.
We found a copy of your first novel Halfwoods in Marina's room.
What can I say? It sold very well.
Why shouldn't she have it?
She wasn't given it by you? I told you, I didn't know her.
Where did you go after the book launch?
Came back here, went to bed.
Can anyone vouch for you?
Miss Wishart, perhaps?
No. I put her in a taxi home.
I had to talk business with my agent and my publisher.
May I?
It's my Armstrong Lang award for Halfwoods.
It's really impressive. Thank you.
He was lying about Uqbara. It means something to him.
And no alibi. I wonder what he's got in that box.
Hathaway.
What about?
No, ask him to wait. I'll see him myself.
It came this morning.
Did Alice ask you to report it?
No, she said to ignore it,
that it's just some sad loner jealous of Dorian's success.
But if they're unbalanced, they could be dangerous.
Thank you, Doctor. We'll look into this.
Thank you.
Sir?
We've been barking up the wrong tree.
Last night at Wishart's place,
I caught sight of Alice in silhouette in the dark.
Marina was the same age, the same build, the same hair.
And it was pitch black down by the river.
The killer got the wrong woman, Marina instead of Alice?
They even wore the same perfume, didn't they?
Thank you, Professor.
You can call me Bernie.
I would never have had you down as a detective, Mr Hathaway.
I would never have had you down as a Bernie, Bernie.
I do like you.
Actually it's Bernice.
I appreciate you seeing me like this.
I'm intrigued. You want some help over a bloody word?
I thought in view of your expertise in deciphering -
Let's have a look at it.
I'm a big fan of your work on the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Flattery will get you everywhere.
Actually I've been superseded by a brilliant newfangled X-ray machine
in the case of the scrolls that are too delicate to unroll.
A far cry from scrabbling around in the Judean desert with my glass.
What do you think this word is?
Uqbara?
Good try. Except, no, that isn't an "A" at the end.
This is an "A". You can see how the horizontal stroke
starts well to the left of the inclined vertical.
the left of the inclined vertical.
I'd say there wasn't a horizontal stroke at all.
Well, if it's not an "A", what is it?
A sanguineous smudge, if you ask me.
It's certainly not a letter.
Is there a South American dimension to your case at all, Mr Hathaway?
No, not as far as I know, no.
Well, what about literature? Fantasy literature?
You don't believe Marina Hartner was the intended victim?
No, ma'am. Alice Wishart was. It's possible.
It's more than possible. Pure hate, that.
Why Uqbara? What about the mirror?
I've got Hathaway ringing round his circle of wise men about Uqbara
and I've got an idea about the mirror.
It could be that Uqbara is not the word after all.
We weren't sure about the final "A".
Does Uqbar without the "A" mean anything?
According to my new source, Uqbar is a fictional land
created by the characters in a story by JL Borges.
Who is he when he's home?
Argentinean writer.
Gauchos, tangos and the nature of reality.
That takes me back.
Does anyone still read Borges? Dorian Crane would.
He was hesitant when we mentioned Uqbara.
It's right up Hayden Wishart's street, as well.
"CS Lewis, Tolkien, JK Rowling,
none created a fantasy world so perfect as Borges's Uqbar."
See, fantasy world?
That would explain the mirror.
Alice, Alice Through The Looking Glass.
If you're right, it's sick. Well, it's Oxford.
Plus, we've got a Lewis Carroll connection
slap bang in the middle of this with Professor Deering.
Her uncle? Always look to the family first.
It was him that gave Marina and Alice that perfume.
But if he knew Alice was going to be at the book launch,
why would he think she'd walk by the river? Why would ANYONE think so?
We'll ask her.
You said I couldn't come
because you had to be with your agent. It's true.
Are you sure you weren't meeting that Australian girl? No.
You were with her last night, weren't you?
Look, she's just one of my students. Trust me.
This is the real world, not Boxlands,
where Prince Aldred kept it in his trousers
for his one true maiden.
What's wrong with you?
I ask to be no other man than I am, Alice.
Grow up.
Alice.
Hayden, have you seen Alice? No.
You're a bad liar. Leave me alone.
Tell me. Get off me!
Just tell me!
You stupid little boy.
Still haven't got hold of Alice.
She's lost her phone, according to her dad.
But she's going to be at The Eagle and Child
later for Dorian's appearance.
So Hathaway is waiting for her. I'm supposed to meet him there.
Good. Robert, why not come for dinner one night?
Why not, ma'am? Thank you. I could ask Ginny.
I'll give you her number
so you can liaise directly about available dates.
I'll give her a ring.
Good.
Hello. Ginny?
Speaking. Hi, it's Robert Lewis.
Robbie. Oh, hello.
Hi, Superintendent Innocent gave me your number.
She wants to invite us for dinner.
Ah, I thought she might.
Erm... look, I don't mean to be rude...
I think you're very nice, but I'm not ready...
..don't think that we...
Although I can see why she thinks it might have been...
..a viable project.
Well, that's Jean.
She's all head and no heart sometimes.
Oh, I'm sorry, I'm gonna have to go. There's someone at the door.
Bye.
Bye, then.
I don't know what to do.
You know Dorian better than anyone.
I should do.
I know how much he loves you.
He never talks about his real mother.
Sorry, his birth mother.
He's told me about you fostering him.
Has he?
When he was 15,
and we'd moved,
and he changed schools,
he made me promise that we would always be mother and son
as far as the world was concerned.
He was desperate for security.
Was his birth mother violent?
No, just...just inadequate.
Seriously inadequate.
I don't want there to be any secrets between Dorian and me.
I hate secrets.
Well, once you're away from Oxford, and settled and married,
anything that seems a problem for him now...
he'll clear the air.
Yeah.
I'll make things up with him tonight.
Oh, yes, it's The Eagle and Child.
He's giving that talk to the new Inklings.
Are you going? I've got a pile of marking.
Oh, come on. Moral support.
All right. Why not?
Hammy, are you coming to this Inklings thing later?
Dorian?
I want to talk.
Come on.
Princess Rooksnarl entered young Aldred's chamber
all a-quiver in the crow-black darkness,
when suddenly...
Argh!
SIRENS BLARE
Don't go in there, whatever you do.
Why, is the beer off?
No, it's far worse than that.
The place is full of fools who think that Tolkien
and the rest of his infantile bunch are worthy of a celebration.
I only went in for a quiet pint.
So you consider Tolkien to be infantile?
All fantasy is infantile until it turns sinister,
which it does if you don't grow out of it.
Arrested adolescence is a dangerous thing, Mr Hathaway.
Nasty and dangerous.
Sir, is this the inn where the hobbits quaffed their ale?
They still do when the moon is full.
Evening, Professor.
Are you both here, too, to see the new Inklings?
Dorian is speaking.
"The theological implications of CS Lewis's
unfinished work The Dark Tower."
I wonder why he didn't finish it.
Too busy polishing his sword.
Is Alice coming?
Yes, she said so when I saw her earlier.
Hello. Hammy.
Good evening, Sergeant.
Evening. What's the sword of truth doing here?
It's Dorian's idea,
to link the new Inklings with the originals.
Is it true that CS Lewis used to wave this around in his tutorials?
Really? How disgustingly flamboyant.
Miss Wishart.
Is Dorian here yet? No. Can I have a word about Tuesday night?
It's important. Were you always intending on going to the launch?
Yes, of course.
Anything out of the ordinary happen that evening?
I was a bit late getting there, because of the trains. But, no.
And if you were going to go home, which route would you have taken?
I normally walk by the river. Why? MOBILE RINGS
Yeah, sir.
No, she's just arrived.
Well, shouldn't I wait with her?
Yeah. OK.
Will you wait with Ginny till I get back?
Yes, fine, but why? I'll explain later.
What was she doing in Dorian's room?
..about three days, try not to get it wet.
Two minutes? One.
So, did you get any idea at all of who did it?
Big? Small? Man? Woman?
Just a bastard.
Why did you go to the room?
I went there to tell Dori... that it was over.
You were having a relationship? If only.
He came to my room the other night to tell me to back off.
In the sweetest possible way.
Last night, I just wanted to see him...
..to tell him, OK, I'd got the message.
You knew he was engaged?
Your point being?
Someone slashed a photo of Alice and sent it to her.
It was not me.
What did Alice say?
That the river was her usual route home.
So if Marina's killer did mistake her for Alice,
then they didn't know Alice was going to the launch.
Or they had reason to believe that she'd changed her plan.
Suppose whoever attacked Melanie was waiting for Dorian.
It doesn't look much like a burglary, does it?
It could be, though.
Where's his box?
Keep it down, Hayden.
What happened?
Let me have a look.
You're not Mum.
I miss her, too.
Oh, yeah?
I know what you did.
OK, see you later. Bye.
Is Mr Crane still here? He didn't turn up.
Some spotty youth substituted with a paper on
The Politics of Middle-earth. Most people left.
No sign of Ginny or Alice.
Alice went before Professor Jassim.
Do you do theft, or just murder?
Someone pinched the sword of truth.
"There is joy in the presence of the angels of God...
..over one sinner that repenteth."
Luke, chapter 15, verse 10.
But...is the joy of angels
regarded as sufficient in the Talmud?
Or the Koran?
Is the act of repentance enough
to assuage God's demand...
..for punishment?
I've been thinking. That goes with the job.
I'm sure that was the murdered girl
I saw you with, even though it was dark.
No. I'm convinced of it.
Especially since I found her photo in your room.
I must start locking my door.
And I'm convinced, Norman,
that Dorian Crane was telling me the truth about you,
about you trying it on with him last year.
Most reluctant to remove your rapacious paws, he said.
Why would he tell you about that? We were discussing loose morals.
He never made a formal complaint.
But if the incident were, somehow, to become widely known now,
under these sad circumstances...
What circumstances?
You haven't heard!
Dorian Crane died within minutes of being stabbed through the heart.
I'd say the killer held the sword against him
when Dorian was in a standing position,
before pushing it home with a single thrust.
Alice was covered in blood.
Well, it's consistent with finding him and cradling him in her arms.
We still haven't managed to question her. She had to be sedated.
Are you getting anywhere with this case? Yes, thanks, Doctor.
For a start, we think Alice was meant to be
the first victim, not Marina. It has to do with the mirror.
Her name's Alice, and Alice Through The Looking Glass.
Now you've got the sword from The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe.
What next? Noddy killing Big Ears?
Oh, incidentally. One of my students
was looking at the post-mortem photographs.
That piece of jewellery she wore was a Taweez locket, apparently.
It's an Islamic thing.
She was a Muslim?
Aren't there any Muslims in the Czech Republic?
Well, not as many, I imagine, as there are in other countries.
She was nervous of her immigration status. So?
So we should keep our options open.
We don't know Marina was mistaken for Alice,
however special the perfume was.
I want to have a word with Marina's friend - Leyla Adan?
Fair enough. If you want.
People compared Dorian to CS Lewis.
But then Lewis was pushing 40 before he had success as a writer.
The Allegory Of Love.
Do you know it?
Not offhand, no.
Well, it was very perceptive about the subject...
..from a man who'd yet to know love.
Well, at least Dorian had known love, Ginny.
Have you contacted your husband?
What for? To tell him.
Oh...Nick's not Dorian's father.
We fostered him.
Oh, I see.
We couldn't have kids.
We thought about adopting, and then the fostering thing came up...
..and we took Dorian.
He was ten.
And he stayed.
For the first month,
he insisted he was an orphan prince.
But then he grew up.
So where's Nick now?
Oh, Lord knows.
Walked out 11 years ago,
Dorian's 15th birthday.
That's rotten. He's rotten.
Left me high and dry.
There was something taken from Dorian's room last night,
a decorated box from the shelf.
Oh, I gave that to him.
I found it in a junk shop the year he went up to Oxford.
Any idea what he kept in it?
Odds and ends, I suppose.
Personal bits and pieces.
He...he had an extraordinary talent.
Have you um...read Boxlands?
Just a bit of a chapter about a magical mirror.
Well, I know it's not your sort of thing, Robbie,
but...try and get to the end.
I'd like to think you could understand.
I've got to keep myself busy.
The garden's in a hell of a state.
Take your time.
Dorian and I had a row
about that Australian student, Melanie Harding.
I found out that he'd been in her room
the night before last, late. How did you know?
Uncle Norman, Professor Deering, told me.
But when I asked Dorian about it, he just said to trust him.
But I didn't believe him.
Then I went to see Ginny.
I wanted to see Dorian in the pub to make up.
And when he didn't come...
..I went looking for him, and I found him...
..his life bleeding away.
Why didn't you believe him?
I never told Dorian, but...I got an anonymous letter
and I thought it was from her, Melanie.
When was this?
Last month, when all the book publicity started.
He had this box on a shelf.
Yeah, what was in that? I don't know.
And the letter said why hadn't he shown me?
And maybe it's because of some horrible secret.
I asked, and he said it was just stuff.
But he made me promise not to look inside, so I never did.
Do you still have the letter?
I tore it up and flushed it away.
Dad!
I brought you some stuff from home. Oh, thanks.
Some make-up, and a hairbrush.
Oh. My phone.
Someone handed it in, amazingly.
Alice...
when exactly did you lose your phone?
On the day of the launch.
Could I borrow that, please?
That's why we couldn't find Marina's phone!
Because the killer took it, thinking it was Alice's!
Why did the killer believe Alice would be walking
by the river rather than being in the Randolph?
He sent her a message to change her plans.
Yeah, but she never got it because she'd lost the phone.
The last text she got was the day before. Oh, damn.
There could be an e-mail if she saved her password on automatic.
Yeah.
"Don't come to Randolph, go home. Top secret surprise. Dorian."
Dorian?
It's webmail. Anyone who knew his password could have sent it.
So who else would have known the password?
Give Alice a call.
Boxlands? Yeah, there's a chapter that I need to finish.
Did you get any more CCTV footage
from the car that stopped for Marina Hartner?
Traffic cameras? No, ma'am. Drew a blank.
But this whole thing's about Dorian Crane and his fantasy world.
Special boxes, magic mirrors, God knows what else.
No, Marina was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Alice says she was always telling Dorian to change his password.
He'd had it for years, ever since she'd known him.
"82", year of his birth, and "Uqbar."
She says she never knew what Uqbar meant.
Leyla Adan's here. Right.
It has inside a Taweez,
which is a verse from the Holy Koran.
It protects against evil.
Her real name was Sabira Omerovic,
and she was from Bosnia.
She had to pay a big price
for her passport in Prague to make her legal.
Why didn't you tell us last time who she really was?
I thought I would be in trouble for it.
Is there anything else you didn't tell us last time?
Like who she was in your room at the hotel with?
I don't know. I promise.
Is there anyone else she mentioned? Someone at work?
Not a boyfriend, no.
She did tell me about one boy who was...strange.
He made photos. Photos?
He thought she did not know, but...she did,
and he followed her, she believed.
And what was he like?
She said 16 or such, with er...
wild hair.
Anything else about him, Leyla?
Sometimes he had model figures.
Er...
..like soldiers.
Leave that, now! Move away from the computer, please!
You admitted you saw Marina outside the hotel the other night,
you didn't tell us you knew her! Why not?
I didn't know her. But you wanted to.
It's called stalking, Hayden.
No, it wasn't that. That's not why I... Leave him alone!
Why don't you show them?
Princess Ultima.
I made her. Why?
That's what kids do when they're into all that stuff.
It's harmless.
Where were you last night? And what happened to your lip?
Dorian hit me. Why?
Because he was looking for Alice.
They'd had this row and I wouldn't tell him where she'd gone.
After he'd hit you, what happened?
I went to The Eagle and Child to look for him,
but he didn't turn up.
Why were you looking for him? Trying to finish what you'd started?
No, I went to say sorry. I don't like fighting.
You'd had a few drinks at the book launch the other day.
Did you see Marina, decide to follow her? No.
What was she doing at the hotel, Hayden? Do you know?
Unless you're arresting him, you shouldn't ask him more questions.
He's clearly upset. It's obvious to me
he doesn't know anything about Marina's murder.
Sir, it's that car again.
Further on.
This time, she's getting in.
Run a check on that number plate.
We'll be back here, you wait and see. I don't bloody believe this!
We don't have much choice, sir. We've got his car picking up Marina,
he says he doesn't know her, and the murder weapon's hanging on his wall.
Hamid Jassim, I'm arresting you on suspicion of murder.
Hammy!
I'm showing Professor Jassim photos of Sabira Omerovic,
otherwise known as Marina Hartner,
getting into and being driven away in a car,
registration number VO57 RJZ.
Are you the registered keeper of the vehicle? Yes, I am.
Were you driving it? Yes.
I'd seen her coming out of the Randolph
and I offered her a lift, but she said, "No, thanks."
Then I stopped and asked her again, as you see.
This time, she changed her mind.
Well, I had to drop her at the river,
as er...my wife had phoned me.
We'll come to that. Had you met her before? Yes, often.
The first time was in a cafe.
She was sad.
On her own.
She was trying to refasten a locket onto a broken chain.
Her Taweez?
Yes.
I asked her if she was a Muslim and she told me her story.
Which was?
Fatherless at six,
because he'd been ethnically cleansed.
Motherless a year later, when a mortar dropped
on some market queue in Sarajevo.
Sabira managed to survive somehow,
prostituting herself eventually...
..until she arrived here in Oxford as Marina from Prague.
Ordered over the internet like a commodity.
No longer knowing who she truly is.
We used to meet up from time to time,
to discuss what it was like to be a Muslim in this land.
Did you disapprove of the way she was living? Yes.
More than you can imagine, I imagine.
But I'm hardly the Taliban.
What did you think of Dorian Crane?
We got on. I enjoyed his company.
His academic work was derivative, though,
much like his literary efforts.
Even the title, Boxlands, is a nod to your namesake, Inspector.
At the age of eight, CS Lewis wrote a story called Boxen.
About an imaginary world based on his toys, with um...
King Bunny and Golliwog the servant.
Didn't he bury his toys when his father died? Yes.
Professor, did Marina, Sabira,
say why she was in the Randolph hotel?
To meet a man - a doctor.
She was proud. A very clever, clever doctor.
Doctor? Her GP?
You know what these foreigners are like.
Perhaps she meant an academic.
Are you sure you've passed your Advanced Driver's test?
I'm trying to read!
Come on through. Alice.
I'm glad you're here too, Professor.
How are you, Alice? I don't know.
You might like to leave the room for a while.
What I've got to say might be a bit upsetting.
Upsetting?
Right.
We now know that Marina Hartner was using a room
at the Randolph hotel to be with a man.
You told us you were called away from the book launch to a patient.
You say Dr Wishart came back from his call-out
to your rooms to drink brandy. Yes.
Who was the patient?
Oh, um...an elderly woman.
She'd...she'd had a fall.
What was her name?
Oh, er...
If you can't remember, we can call your practice.
Just tell them.
Or I will.
What is it?
Uncle Norman?
"The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things."
Like how you tried to provide each other with false alibis,
because you'd both been involved with Marina Hartner?
There was no late-night brandy drinking in your room, was there?
Nor a call-out to a patient.
No.
So which of you was with Marina on the night she was killed?
Me.
We were lovers. Oh, no!
It was long after Mum died. I was lonely, Alice.
You had us, Dad!
And you knew? He brought her here once.
They thought I was out.
But I saw them, in Mum and Dad's room.
And that's why you turned Marina into a fantasy?
To put her where you wanted? Make her...just little?
So that text you received at the launch, it wasn't from a patient?
It was Marina's idea of a surprise.
She was upstairs, she said that she was
in a friend's room, a chambermaid's.
We...
We made love.
And she left by the staff entrance. I came home.
Were you aware that your brother-in-law
had started this affair with your ex-lover?
No, I didn't know until Jem told me.
I had asked him to help me out with an alibi
in case the police discovered about Marina and me.
Why did you need an alibi?
To avoid embarrassment.
Why? What were you really up to on the night she was killed?
I went to visit a... What are we meant to call them?
A sex worker. A prostitute.
I can give you her name. I think you'd better.
How long were you with her, four hours? Hardly.
But thanks for the compliment.
No, four hours is the window for the murder. Ah.
Go on, then, Sergeant.
I'll be inviting you both to provide a DNA sample on a voluntary basis,
until and if one or another of you is arrested
on suspicion of the murder of Marina Hartner.
In the meantime, I'm arresting you both
for obstructing police inquiries.
Surely you don't think either of them could be a killer?
I think Sergeant Hathaway does.
What about Dorian?
His murder and Marina's, is there a connection?
I think the connection is you, Alice. Me?
Can you think of anyone who hated Dorian,
really hated him for any reason?
People found him difficult to get close to sometimes,
but he was what he was.
"I ask to be no other man than I am."
That was the last thing that he said to me.
That's from Boxlands.
The hero says it at the end of that chapter.
And I saw it in Dorian's room, too.
"I am a child of..." something, "..and I won't..."
"I am a child of fortune and I shall not be shamed.
I ask to be no other man than I am."
He's nicked that from Sophocles - Oedipus Rex.
Oedipus.
The one who married his...mother.
Oh, no.
Get onto the Chief Super.
I want to know exactly when she was reading that JL Borges bloke.
Was it at university?
We rang your door, Ginny.
I'm...I'm burying Dorian's childhood.
May we pay our respects?
This is Boxlands, isn't it?
Maps, language, people.
A whole world.
I have a right to it!
Ginny.
Put it down. Why?
You're my friend.
You remember university?
You loved the stories of Borges.
Uqbar? Yes.
Imaginary land.
It could hold all one's imaginings.
Yes, I introduced Dorian to that wonderful story.
And to Boxen - CS Lewis's imaginary land.
Yeah.
Tell us about it, Ginny.
No-one will take that world away from you. No-one ever could.
Alice wasn't Dorian's muse, was she?
Whatever his publicity said, you were.
I was more than that.
Did you finish the chapter? Oh, yes.
I wasn't sure you'd realise what it meant.
Are you horrified?
I think it's fair to say that...
if it means you had a sexual relationship with your foster son.
Does it?
Did it start when your husband left?
Look, he betrayed us.
We comforted each other.
We spent more time with...
with talking and drawing and telling stories
than we ever did in bed.
We made our own secret world...
..with its own rules.
How long did the relationship continue?
Till university.
We made a clean break of it.
I told him to move on into the real world.
And then the first book came out -
Halfwoods.
And I recognised our creation.
Course, he had transformed it into something that everyone could love,
but then he is brilliant.
He dedicated that one to you, but he dedicated Boxlands to Alice.
"Muse and bride."
Bride, fine.
I would have worn a nice hat and been delirious for them...
..but muse?
That wasn't Alice's fault.
Innocent people suffer all the time.
Like that poor girl I killed by mistake.
I thought it was Alice in the dark.
And then...Alice came to see me, and...
and she said...
she said he had told her about being fostered.
He'd never said that to anyone before.
And I knew then... I knew once they were away from here,
once I had lost him forever...
..that he would tell her the biggest secret of all.
Us.
Oh, Jean!
I let my heart rule my head!
You know the last thing he said?
He said, "The heart can and should obey the head."
It wasn't even his own words.
I pushed the sword of truth...home...
..into his heart.
My...
I wish I could say good result.
Ma'am.
You're dying to tell me something, aren't you?
That quote about the heart and the head. Lewis, CS.
It would be.
Do you know what one of the Inklings is meant to have said
when Tolkien started reading them Lord Of The Rings?
Oh, spare me, Sergeant! I've had enough of imaginary worlds.
You'll like it, sir, I promise. Go on, then.
They said, "Not more flipping elves!"
Except that he didn't say flipping.
I like it.
Home, James.
- chocolate - innuit