11x05 - The Magican Nephew

[bunniefuu]

MAN: Do you come here seeking
knowledge?

WOMAN: I do.

Do you come seeking truth?

I do.

I summon Asgaroth, demon of earth.

I summon Kelmaret, demon of air.

I summon Belas, demon of water.

I summon Thame, demon of fire.

Take power from the weapons
of power.

The Kn*fe, the arrow,
the axe and the sword.

And whosoever betrays
the secrets of the Temple...

..will be forever cast down...

into eternal darkness.

Now embrace the darkness of Thoth!

ALL: Asgaroth! Kelmaret!

Belas! Thame!

Well, I set out to write
a serious book

debunking magic and superstition.

But then I rapidly realised that
anything so profoundly stupid

should also make people laugh.
(LAUGHS)

I loved the Temple of Thoth ritual,

which you say you invented
after two bottles of Scotch.

Do people really believe that that
was handed down by an Egyptian god?

Absolutely...

Listen, let me give you a perfect
example.

Take some half-baked
magical mythology,

dress it up as some unpleasant
racial conspiracy theories

and set it to one of Wagner's
overblown operas.

Believe it and you get h*tler
and the SS,

which is, you know...is a great deal
less entertaining.

See, mostly it's gullible fools
being manipulated

by more gullible fools.

It's like a former friend of mine
who runs a very lucrative

internet business that peddles
all the paraphernalia of magic.

Does it matter? Yes, because there
are all these idiots out there

who are going to take it too
seriously and wherever we...

Ernest, darling, I'm back.

Oh, there is no point watching
that interview over and over again!

We have to forget it.

When Aloysius Wilmington is dead...

..that's the day I'll forget it.

See you at the show!

O, Lord our heavenly Father,

Almighty and everlasting God...

..who hast safely brought us
to the beginning of this day,

defend us in the same
with thy mighty power

and grant that this day
we fall into no sin,

neither run into
any kind of danger...

BICYCLE BELL

CHURCH BELL CHIMES

MAN: Getting the books out
is your problem, Simon.

Not getting them out
could be an even bigger one.

You don't have to take any risks.
Wipe out the whole of your debt...

for one book.

DOORBELL
You know what it is!

I'll call you later.

That looked fraught.

So...anything promising today?

All I can do is examine everything
as I catalogue it, Isolde.

We know it's in here.

Open your spirit to other ways
of seeing.

You feel its power too, Simon.

Believe...

..and the book will find us.

Where are the cornflakes? Joyce!

Joyce, are we out of cereal?

Oh, I forgot.
You forgot?

What's with all these sweets
and chocolates, then?

Well, if we're having a Halloween
party, we should do it properly.

What Halloween party?

DOORBELL
It was your idea, Tom. That's Ben.

I know that's Ben. What was my idea?

Trick or treat?
Two minutes.

TYRES SCREECH
Wilmington! Wilmington...

I'm not going to sit back
and take any more of this.

Do what thou will, Ernest.
Isn't that the whole of your law?

The book was one thing,
but television!

Everyone in the village
knows that you meant me. The SS!

The SS was an extremely
specific exemplar.

I think "gullible fools"
was the more generic classification.

Hi! How is she?

A happy day.

Oh, great!

Well, there will be more happy days.

Oh, you look chirpy this morning.

Don't open the window.
It's just some light.

They can't get in, can they?

Of course not, Rosemary.
But who...who is it?

Who can't get in?

Yes, much better today. Thank you.

Nice. th-century binding,
but a th-century text.

I can sell these...but they won't
make much inroad into your debt.

The more I take the harder it gets.

What about the big one?

The Thoth book's a myth, Hugo.

You saw him on the telly.
He made it all up.

If I don't get that book from you,
I'll have words with Aloysius myself.

He may be fool enough to give you
the run of his library,

but when he knows you've stolen books
worth , quid

to pay back money you...well...
stole from me

to feed a little cocaine habit...

DOOR OPENS

We are missing some stock, Pa.
Ritual knives, an axe, arrows.

Stock-taking isn't the first thing
on my mind, Isolde.

You would do better finding out
what Simon Wilmington

is doing in his uncle's library.

The book is in there. Find it!

Push him, Isolde.
I can't push much harder.

Of course you can.

You're a witch.

I want you to look very closely.

A perfectly empty tube.

Let me place it there and we say the
magic word...Abracadabra!

ALL: Abracadabra!

And then again we have a cup...
how is this possible?

Look, there is nothing inside...
there is nothing here...

Oscar! Not you again!

We don't want any rabbits here!

ALL: Oh, yes, we do!
Oh, no, we don't!

Oh, yes, we do!
No!

I was expecting
more than nine months.

Well, you can never second-guess
what a judge will do.
You shouldn't even try.

If his solicitor hadn't got
the evidence for the other
burglaries thrown out.

How was that hearsay?
He was boasting in the pub!

It was always a possibility.
I mean, his counsel was very good.

Was it the way I gave evidence?
No, it was not. Oh, Jones, come on.

Coffee, now!

Then slowly we open the very
magical...very...

Oscar, not you again!
You have to go home!

Now!

Right, then, let's go.

I'd ask if my bum looks big in this,
but I can't get it in.

(LAUGHS) Come on!

CHEERING FROM AUDIENCE

Excuse me.
Usual chaos.

I know what Simon's doing.

You've got a long nose, old girl.

Just keep it out of my business.

Oh, no, Oscar!

Oscar, not you again!

You are interfering with my work.

What shall we do with him?
Send him back?

No!
Oh, yes, we will!

We don't want rabbit here!
Oh, yes, we do!

Do we have to congratulate him?

Yes, we do. Come on.

Mr Balliol...congratulations.

May we join you?

That depends on what you want,
Chief Inspector.

Detective Sergeant Jones here,
is very upset because he thinks
your client got off very lightly.

Which, of course, he did. We've only
met across a crowded courtroom.

Tristan Balliol.

We were lucky.
No thanks to you, Sergeant.

You blocked all my attempts
to dent your evidence.

That hearsay was really
a last gambit.

He'll be out in six months.

Well, justice has to be just.

It's not always fair,
it's not always right.

And even if we do talk about it
as if it's just a game,

none of us actually believes that.
Oh...

I want a writ against Wilmington
and I want it today. Pa...

I'll go to court and get
an injunction against his slander!

Pa, there is no case.
Oh?

Aren't we supposed to live in
a country where a man's beliefs
can't be mocked?

Chief Inspector Barnaby
and Sergeant Jones -

this is my father, Ernest Balliol.

Well, I think there is one thing
you might need to know, Tristan.

I drove into Wilmington's car
this morning.

I didn't hit him, but, er...
I think I took his door off.

EXCITED SHOUTING

Ssh, quiet! Now...

First prize...

Elizabeth Shepherd.

I don't know what she's meant to be,

but she certainly frightened me.

I'm meant to be a good witch!

Ah! But we cannot let
the bad witches know.

Now everybody off the stage,
everybody off the stage!

Off the stage! And now...

for the most dangerous,
the most death-defying feat

ever performed on the stage of...

Hope your tights don't split!
..this ancient village hall.

The Cabinet Of Death!

GASPING

Drums, Simon, if you please!

DRUM ROLL

Now, my lovely assistant.

LAUGHTER
No! I don't think so.

My lovely assistant.

CHEERING

She will now enter
the Cabinet Of Death

where she will be pierced
by blades of burnished steel

and live to tell the tale,
without a mark on her.

Look upon this work of terror,
ye children, and tremble!

LAUGHTER
Oscar!

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar, Oscar...
pack your lettuce. You're fired!

ALL: Aw!

Lovely assistant, are you ready
to enter the Cabinet Of Death

with only my magical power
to protect you?

I am, oh great magician!

Enter!

APPLAUSE

ALL: Oooh!

The blades are now piercing
her body.

Speak to me, lovely assistant!

(GASPS)

Speak to me.

I fear the worst.

Anton, Anton...

Get the curtains! Curtains, now!

CONFUSED MURMURING

Black mashed potatoes
for the bodies...

sliced carrots for the eyes.

And for the legs...

..Cully thought sausages.

To make spiders, Tom.
Oh.

Well, if black is the theme,

your sausages are usually
the right colour, aren't they?

Last year you were worried about
Halloween.

Young children
wandering the streets,

older ones throwing fireworks,

people opening their doors
to hulking teenagers,
long past trick-or-treating...

Was I? You wanted Halloween
to be safer and friendlier.

A party in every neighbourhood
to provide focus

and a jolly end to the evening,

not to mention a drink for parents
desperately in need.

Did I really say all that?
Tom!

It's a great idea, Joyce.
Well, yes, it is. It is!

I talked about it to the WI.
Oh, well...

And as I'd started the ball rolling

it seemed like we should have
the party in this area.

PHONE RINGS

Cully's coming down to help with
the decorations.

Barnaby.

Mr Bullard's already inside, sir.
Is he? Thank you.

Evidence of cardiac arrhythmia.

That doesn't mean
naturally occurring heart att*ck.

Now, there are several scratches,
skin punctures...

discolouration round the wounds.

Not deep, but they've drawn blood.

They were inflicted
just before death.

It was an amateur magic show, Tom.
She was in the cabinet.

It's full of sharp blades
which were designed to retract.

Some didn't.

When they opened the cabinet
she was unconscious.

They call themselves
the Midsomer Magic Circle.

And they meet up once every year.
You know, put on a show for the kids.

Who does the box belong to?

The box belongs to one
Aloysius Wilmington.

He's the chief magic man.
The rest just help him out.

Go on, open up, have a look-see.

What's that?

We'll have a closer look at that.

Isolde, you have to keep a check on
Simon every day.

I don't know what these rumours
about Jean Wildacre mean,

but I think it's best that Isolde
stays away.

Or at least Aloysius is going to be
shocked by what happened.

I don't care about that.
The timing is perfect.

The aura surrounding a death
is like a bridge -

the spirits pass
in both directions -

Especially if she was k*lled.

Oh, Isolde, please!
We might as well be practical.

Isolde's right.

A violent death
fractures the astral plane.

It could lead her to the book.
It's so close to Halloween.

The boundaries of the spirit world
are peeling away.

Can't you feel it?

Make sure she's not roaming round
the village saying that -

to Derek Wildacre, or any
odd policeman she might run into.

My daughter's in America working.
She's on her own now.

Jean and I have been looking after
the kids.

They don't know yet.

They think it's magic...
Mr Wildacre...

..we believe that your wife
did not die from natural causes.

Anything from the labs?

Not yet, but the cabinet's thrown up
something.

We just don't know what it is yet.

They went through this
Cabinet Of Death routine
three times in rehearsal.

Aloysius is a bit of a stickler,
apparently.

These blades retract
when the door is closed.

Oh, yeah!

So whoever's inside can get out
through the back

and reappear somewhere else.

Some of the blades have been jammed.
What, deliberately?

Little slivers of wood were pushed
inside.

But it worked in rehearsal.
Three times it worked in rehearsal.

Yeah.

But a few of the blades
had a tiny residue on them

and they're with forensics now.

DOORBELL

So the night of rehearsals,

you left the village hall
before Mrs Wildacre?

Yes.
And you walked home?

Well, I did stop at the pub,
for a drink with...everyone.

Everyone being?

Aloysius, Simon, Hugo, of course.
Hugo's always in the pub. (LAUGHS)

Anybody else?
What about Mrs Wildacre?

Oh, no, no.

Mrs Brand. Yes, that's right,
she did drop by...briefly.

Well, thank you.

I know where to find you.

Were you close to Mrs Wildacre?

Not in any intimate sense.

I mean, we knew each other
when we were young, that's all.

I think the older you get
the more that tends to matter.

Yes. This trick she was involved in,
the Cabinet Of -

Ah, the Cabinet Of Death.

Yeah, well, I rather think
we won't be using that again.

The idea that someone...k*lled her.

Everyone loved her.

Did she go straight home
after rehearsals, Mrs Brand?

Yes, she must have done.
And what about everyone else?

We usually call...

at the pub.

So who was there?

Aloysius and Simon Wilmington,
yourself...

Hugo Cartwright,
and Mr Thorneycroft?

Yes, that's right.

Come on in children, come on in.
It's wet out there.

You're being very slow.
Take your coats off.

That's it. No pushing.

Now I remember quite clearly,
I bought the cabinet at auction.

Property of one Waldo The Wonderful,
end-of-pier magician.

Did you test it before the show?
Always.

And did all the blades retract?

It was in perfect working order.

When did you last touch
the interior of that cabinet,

in particular the sharp ends
of the blades?

Maybe at the rehearsal. But
even if it wasn't working properly,

the worst you'd get would be
a few scratches.

Mr Wilmington, could you help us?

Tell me, what is that?

This is not magic for children.

This is real mumbo-jumbo.

How do you mean?

Practitioners of the dark arts.

If you're going to initiate someone
into your magical order,

you need to have the right gear.

Ah!

This is what it should look like.

Oh, yes! Can I hang on to this?
Mm.

Thank you. Erm...

Mr Wilmington, I'll need to talk
to your nephew, Simon Wilmington.

He does live here, doesn't he?
He's not in right now.

I don't think that you'll find Simon
has anything to hide.

I legged it to the pub.
Oscar had made us late.

That would be Oscar -
Oscar Oryctolagus Cuniculus.

Oscar the rabbit.

For top hat extrication purposes,
Sergeant.

Did anyone go with you?

Aloysius and Simon had a pint.

Mr Thorneycroft and Mrs Brand?

They didn't come.

On the day of the show, did you see
or hear anything unusual?

Jean was the last person
anyone would k*ll.

She and Derek
were a happily-married couple.

Do you know anyone with a grudge?

Anyone she'd argued with lately?

Only me.

I'd had enough of the Magic Circle.
I was ready to resign.

Jean thought I'd be letting
the side down. That was Jean.

Team player to the...

..last.

Well, I appreciate your honesty.
Mm.

They're an odd lot, sir.
What, people in general?

Wilmington's Magic Circle.

I couldn't get a straight answer
out of any of them.

Good book?
Yeah, yeah it is. Very good.

In his younger day, Aloysius
Wilmington apparently presided over

magical rituals that involved nude
dancing, singing, dr*gs and sex.

Have a look. Don't look at
the photographs, you're too young.

Orgies we thought, sir.

We used to speculate about
what they got up to.

What did you think they got up to?
We were kids.

Speculate no further, my children.

But it seems some people are not
too happy to have their past lives

re-heated and served up
in Wilmington's book -

Ernest Balliol being one of them.

So for starters,
first thing tomorrow morning,

we are going to have a chat with him.
Good night to you two.

BOTH: Good night, sir.

Lighten our darkness,
we beseech thee, O Lord,

and by thy great mercy defend us
from all perils

and dangers of this night...

BANGING

No little Izzy tonight?

Well...not much of a bibliophile,
is she?

More bedroom than book room.

You must be out of your mind.

The police are all over the place.

They think someone k*lled Jean.

It's crazy.

She sussed you were selling to me.

So I'd k*ll for a few books?

How many millions would you lose
if Aloysius cut you off?

Bear that in mind.

Oh, and erm...

I still want...that book.

Find it!

HIGH-PITCHED BIRDCALL

SQUAWKING

Oh, look at that.

Don't tell Mrs Barnaby about this.

It might give her some expensive
ideas for Halloween.

Good morning.

Mr Balliol.

Welcome to Magicmaister, gentlemen.

Are you here on a spiritual journey?

No, we're not. Remember us?
I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby

and this is Detective Sergeant Jones
from Causton CID.

Could you tell me about this?

You'll have to decide if you want
books in this state rebound, Uncle.

Oh, no, no, no. Sooner or later
everything in here will be yours.

Your job, you have to decide.

If you think a book has something
to contribute to the sum of
human knowledge,

then I'm sure it will deserve
a new coat.

It's not easy to decide,
especially with the earlier stuff.

But if my Latin was as good
as yours -

Lust and congenital laziness
might run in this family, Simon,

but modesty doesn't.

Your Latin is excellent.

We do sell these ritual knives, yes.

But did you sell this one?
I couldn't possibly say.

You knew Jean Wildacre, didn't you?

"Knew" would be overstating it.

Was she a customer of yours?

I hardly think so.

Mr Balliol, Jean Wildacre
was your neighbour.

Jean Wildacre has just d*ed.

This is a m*rder investigation.

We are as shocked as anyone.

This Kn*fe may mean nothing,
but I need to know that.

If it didn't belong to Jean Wildacre,
whose was it?

I don't imagine that you sell many
of these things.

We guarantee confidentiality.

Are you refusing to cooperate?

You wouldn't expect a priest
to break the secrets
of the confessional.

The goods here possess a sanctity

that is far from any
commercial considerations.

Oh, for crying out loud!
This is a shop!

If you want to continue any further
with this,

I suggest you speak to
our solicitor.

I will come back for your
customer list and if I don't get it,

you will be the one having to speak
to your solicitor.

It's a book no-one knows about -
a book of power.

I can use that power
to banish the demons.

They'll obey me then.

You will know peace again.

Yes. That's lovely, dear.

Medication isn't the way.
I've told Tristan.

The dr*gs confuse her.

Well, the psychiatrist said

the periods of calm are shorter now,
it's true.

Psychiatrists can't do anything!

They've done a great deal, Isolde.

Tristan will tell you how much.
Tristan!

Come on, Christine,
no-one can help Ma

who doesn't see the demons
that are tormenting her.

You know that now.

You're one of us.

No, I needed to understand why
Rosemary...

What happened.

How she got where she is.
That would be a start.

You don't have the knowledge
to understand...

or the power to help.

I do.

It's really not your business.

He will find out.

Tristan's got a nose for it.

If he guesses you've joined the
Temple you won't even keep your job,

and as for any more dilly-dallying -

I've seen the way he looks at you.

Can't you just pour a bottle
of plonk down his neck

and rip his clothes off
and drag him to bed?

I mean, you both need it.

♪ My name is John Wellington Wells

♪ I'm a dealer in magic and spells

♪ In blessings and curses
and ever-filled purses

♪ In prophecies, witches, and knells

♪ If you want a proud foe
to make tracks

♪ If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax

♪ You've but to look in on
our resident Djinn

♪ Number Timothy's axe... ♪

KNOCK ON DOOR

If you didn't go to the King's Arms,
Mr Thorneycroft,

why did you tell Sergeant Jones
that you did?

I couldn't say where I really was,
not to my wife.

I was here.

So you walked here right after
the meeting at the village hall?

I did. I came through the churchyard
and over the back wall.

Over the back wall?

Did anyone see you?
My neighbour saw me come in.

Anton ensures that no-one sees him,
of course.

Alice wouldn't...

It's not what you think!

It's Gilbert and Sullivan!

Prejudice denies me recognition
as a priest, but that's what I am.

Don't waste my time with this crap.

Don't speak to your father
like that! He has served the Temple.

The law has no interest at all
in your ridiculous beliefs.

If you don't answer
Barnaby's questions,
you'll be in serious trouble!

Dendrobatidae! Frogs.

Poison dart, poisoned arrow frogs
from Central and South America.

Their skins secretes some of
the most powerful toxins we know.

Even the smallest amount
entering the bloodstream

through a cut or a graze - lethal.

And there's a match with
Mrs Wildacre and the cabinet.

Do you know much about these, sir?

No, I don't.
But I think I know a man who does.

Pa can handle other people
laughing at him.

When it's you, it hurts.
It was worth coming, then.

He's just trying to find his path.
Please, don't make me start on you.

Witches aren't so easy to hurt.

I went to see Ma today.
Well, I hope you didn't upset her.

Actually she was quite serene.

She isn't often like that,
I can assure you.

I'd like to keep her at home
a bit longer.

I can't always handle her,
even with Christine.

She's going to be all right.
There's a power that bound her

and a power that will release her.

Very soon I will wield
that power myself -

Don't you ever leave it alone?

Yes!

DOORBELL

Mr Wilmington? Mr Simon Wilmington?
That's right.

I'm Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby
from Causton CID.

Is your uncle at home, please?

I think he's in the church.
Is he? Well, I'll find him there.

In the meantime, Sergeant Jones here
has a few questions for you.

I don't know anything.

Oh, well, in that case I won't take
up very much of you time. Thank you.

Er...not much that would
interest you.

Not much that would interest
anybody, really.

What's that?

No, no, no.

You know Simon's cataloguing
his uncle's library?

Must be valuable stuff there.

You'd be up for that.

But there is one book
that will burn your fingers.

One that has the power
to bring the fires of hell

to consume you right here.

Don't even touch it, Hugo.

Lest the power of Thoth
consume you utterly.

Ah, Mr Barnaby!

Our Common Prayers
are falling to pieces

and I have just bought new ones
that the Rector doesn't want.

I'm sorry, sir, I'm not with you.

Well, as chairman of
the Fabric Committee,

I'm responsible for maintaining
the church.

However, I'm also the biggest
contributor to the Fabric Fund.

So the Rector has to keep up
services

from The Book Of Common Prayer,
or I let the building fall down.

Blackmail.

Did you know that
the Authorised Version

and The Book Of Common Prayer

both have their foundations
in the work of one William Tyndale?

For he...he invented
modern English prose.

You know, without him the poetry
of Shakespeare

would never have existed
as we now know it.

And for his pains he was b*rned
at the stake. A heretic.

I'm here to ask you some very
specific questions, Mr Wilmington,

and I hope that the answers
will help.

(LAUGHS) I doubt it.

I spent years in South America.

Yes, you write very entertainingly
about, you know,

your life in Ecuador
with the Indians.

And you learned, did you not, how to
gather the poison they use to hunt.

We're talking about cabinet blades
here and Jean, aren't we?

Little poison dart frogs.

Well, I can see this would make me
a prime suspect, but there is...

how shall I put it?

..an absence of frogs.

Well, I am going to have to ask you,
sir, not to leave the village
without first telling me.

We're going to have to talk again.

Hugo was here last night. I saw him.

You didn't tell him anything?

Isolde, I've just found
something interesting.

But it...it's not your book.

Don't let Hugo Cartwright
in here again, right?

But Hugo -
I know you nick books for him.

They're books that don't matter.

But he knows what we're looking for.

We're very close to it now.

No-one can be allowed
to get in the way.

Magicmaister.com has sold
six ritual knives in two years

with the same stock numbers
as the ones you have.

All on the internet.

Most of the business
is done that way.

You'll notice none of the addresses
is local

and only one of them is in the UK.
Ah, thank you for this.

Yes, well I was rather surprised

at his reaction to
Jean Wildacre's death.

It's the Magic Circle.

Well, he has no part in that,
does he? No, no.

They're a bunch of people who enjoy
a drink down the King's Arms

and then put on a children's show
with Aloysius.

They all grew up in the Sixties
and Seventies.

Sex and dr*gs and rock and roll,
you know.

Or maybe not.
(SNIGGERS)

I'll make sure my father
understands.

He will be available
for questioning.

Thank you for coming in.
Much appreciated.

And what do you two know of dr*gs,
sex and rock and roll?

Nothing.
Not a lot, sir.

"Nothing", "Not a lot, sir".
It's a good job that my experience

is that much more extensive,
isn't it? Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

The writer was a monk, working for
the Inquisition in the th century.

He was in charge of books that
the Catholic church had prohibited.

Books about magic? He lists
some well-known medieval texts.

Then the page is torn.
The next page is missing.

He saw a man b*rned at the stake,
along with a book,

before he wrote this - a book
considered too dangerous to keep.

Or too powerful.

This is it!

Whatever the book was,
the monk only had part of it.

But the pages were with
this manuscript.

He said it was here.

All those years ago.
Aloysius said it.

And it is. I can feel the power.

So near!

DOOR OPENS

Sorry I'm late...as ever.

Are you hungry?

No. No, you get off.

A...A glass of wine, then?

Mm.

I've been with the police.

Pa's got right up Barnaby's nose,
refusing to answer questions,

banging on about
religious persecution.

He doesn't do himself any favours.

Barnaby has got every right
to be angry.

But he's not involved, surely?

Some bits of his magical junk were
discovered where Mrs Wildacre d*ed.

It's all gobbledegook to you.

You wouldn't know a ceremonial Kn*fe
if it fell from the sky.

ERNEST: You've got to keep control
of Simon. You know he's weak.

Simon's no problem.

What about Hugo Cartwright?

He's looking for the book.
He was a member of the Temple.

He heard Aloysius talk about it.

But it's only the money
he cares about.

What if Aloysius found out about
the books that Hugo's been selling?

He'd put a stop to it fast enough.

Right, Pa, just the time to get
Simon kicked out of the house!

It's very easy.

I can stop them.

(LAUGHS DRUNKENLY)

Asgaroth, Kelmaret, Belas, Thame...

..by the power of the secret name.

Argh!

(MOANS)

(PANICKED WHINING)

(MOANING BECOMES
INCREASINGLY AGITATED)

Who found him?
Postman. Shop door was open.

He could have been in a fight.
He has cuts on his hands as well.

Well, it looks like he's just
walked in...

taken off his coat and...

..dropped dead.

What's that?

Glass.

He was in the pub until closing.
He came this way?

It was his routine. It never varied.

Here, here...

Instinct not science, this,

but, like Jean Wildacre,
he's covered in cuts.

Broken glass, George.
That's perfect entry for the toxin.

Well, I doubt Mr Cartwright fell over
by chance.

And I doubt...

that this got here by chance.

Message from Derek Wildacre, sir.
He wants a word with you.

Derek Wildacre?

I suppose I'd better go
and chase up Simon.

Come on! You should be so excited!

Are you going to say something
to her?

Isolde...
Yes, Pa.

Don't you think we ought to talk
about this?

Did you...?
Pa, I didn't mean to k*ll Hugo.

Mr Wildacre.

Is it true about Hugo?

Yes, sir, it is.
Can we go inside, please?

People are saying it's the same...

the same as Jean?
Thank you.

Jean was very close to Lucy - that's
Simon's mother, Aloysius's sister.

I was going through Jean's things...

and I found these letters.

They're very old.

They're from Lucy to Jean,
from a long time ago.

I wouldn't want to waste your time,
but you did say that if I found
anything odd.

URGENT KNOCK ON DOOR

Simon!

Simon!

She's gone.

So even sex has finally palled
where dearest Izzy is concerned.

I... Well, to be honest,

there's something I didn't want to
show her before I showed you.

Sounds intriguing.

DOORBELL
Hey...

Ah. Results from the lab, sir.

There's no doubt about it.
It's frogs.

It's frogs.

There is a recklessness about
these killings, isn't there, Jones?

But this one's a bit more focused
than the first. What have you got?

The contents of Hugo's safe.

This is a list of all the books
from Mr Wilmington's library

sold in the last six months.

These are solicitors' letters.

Hugo was selling books
Simon nicked from his uncle

and using the money to pay off
Simon's debt.

How much?
A lot.

Also...why keep a piece
from the local rag

about the death of Simon's mother?

Do you know what it is?
No...

This is from a printing of Tyndale's
New Testament.

Oh, this is...

this is quite a find.
Do you have a date for the edition?

Uncle, these aren't any pages
from any edition.

They are unique.

Part of something...
nobody thought existed.

Oh, my God.

Is this what I think it is?

I don't buy the weapons.

Do you not? Why?

Whoever's doing the k*lling wants us
to think it's about the past,

and all that mumbo-jumbo.

Simon Wilmington was stealing
valuable books

and giving them to Hugo Cartwright
to sell.

Jean Wildacre twigged.

She was going to tell Aloysius.
Simon had to stop her.

Hugo Cartwright was alive,
he had to stop him. Think about it!

I am thinking about it. But...
If he was disinherited,

he stands to lose millions.

Aloysius must have known about
that Cartwright business, though?

And said nothing?

Well, it is possible.

Well, then,
Simon didn't know he knew.

Oh, that's too complicated for me,
Jones. Right, you can get off.

I am going to have a look at
the material in Cartwright's safe.

You're right about that. It is
a very peculiar set of documents.

Well, I'll see you tomorrow, sir.
Indeed you will, good night to you.

(PLAINCHANT) # Lord, now lettest
thou thy servant depart in peace

♪ According to thy word

♪ For mine eyes have seen
thy salvation

♪ Which thou hast prepared
before the face of all people

(SOBBING)

You're safe, Ma, you're safe.

You can't see them.

So you can't help.

Christine can.

She understands!

I haven't spoken to her about
the Temple. I would never do that.

I can't get my head around that
you're involved with this,

with my father, with Isolde.

I mean you actually went out,
got dressed up and -

I wanted to know what happened
to Rosemary.

It's the ceremony that keeps
coming back to terrify her.

Do you think there's anything
I don't understand about
the Temple of Thoth?

Ma's beyond counselling. She's sick.

Very, very sick.

I know that.

But sometimes she just wants
someone to listen to her.

I don't know if you can always
do that.

If you ever can.

I'm sorry.
No, you're right.

Maybe I can't.

A lot of my life has been wasted.

I wrote volumes of rubbish,
dressed in ludicrous robes,

initiated stupid people with rites

that I claimed were
thousands of years old.

I scoured the world for magic.

And now...I mostly just like to sit
and watch the sun go down.

Thank you.
Real magic!

Now, I wrote
The Revelations of Thoth

with the help of malt whiskey
and a solid grounding

in the cadences of
The Book Of Common Prayer.

Ernest now believes that I was...

unwittingly used
by the spirit of Thoth,

an unclean vessel
for the god's revelation.

It was a game for me.

It became an absurd faith for him.

Mind you...I'm hardly qualified
to laugh about it.

I managed very successfully
to fill up my head

with several thousand years' worth
of distilled nonsense.

Yet you seem to have gone
to great lengths to preserve it all.

Ah! But there are glorious things
on these shelves as well.

It's a bit like gardening.
Simon has a lot of weeding to do.

Do you remember I spoke to you
about William Tyndale?

Indeed I do.

Let me show you something wonderful.

These pages are from the first
edition of Tyndale's New Testament.

To possess this work in
meant death, pure and simple.

All the world had of this were
a few pages in the British Museum.

Until now.

Simon found these in here?

Well, this library
isn't just my folly,

it's been my salvation and I...

I always hoped that Simon would find
something in here as well,

some kind of spark to set his life
on a richer course.

You care very much for Simon,
don't you?

Well, why wouldn't I?
He is my sister's son.

But that's not the whole truth,
is it?

Simon is your son too.

Your sister, Lucy, wrote several
letters to Mrs Wildacre,

about Simon's paternity.

Simon's father...was you, sir.

It happened.

I don't remember how.

Simon doesn't know?

No, and there is no reason
why he ever should.

Why, are you thinking
of telling him?

You're the only one I know
with a motive

that connects Jean Wildacre
and Hugo Cartwright.

Now, sir...

..take a look at these.

I know what these are.

What do they mean?

The Kn*fe you've seen before.
The arrow was found in Hugo's pocket.

What connects these weapons to
Jean Wildacre and Hugo Cartwright?

What was the connection years ago?

I can't remember. I don't know.

Got it?
Yeah.

Hey, Cully!
Hello, Dad!

Hello.
Hello.

Did you bring this? Oh, I did.
A friend of mine grows them.

You know what,
that's not even a big one.

Is it not?
Now, can you please try this on?

What's that?

You didn't think you were going to
a Halloween party in jeans
and slippers, did you, Tom?

Oh, no!
BOTH: Oh, yes!

Dad, phone!
OK!

Yep.

Oh, fantastic!

You were made for it, Dad.

Was there a phone call?

Yes, sorry. Mr Wilmington.

Barnaby.

It was one of those daft Temple of
Thoth ceremonies that I invented.

Part of the initiation ritual.

North is the Kn*fe,
south was the arrow,

west was the axe
and east was the sword.

Now, if it's the one
I think we're both talking about,

then as far as I recall,
all of us were there.

Jean held the Kn*fe.

Hugo held the arrow.

I'm almost positive that it was
Mrs Balliol's initiation.

I'll be over
first thing in the morning.

CLATTER

Simon!

Oh, you're not drunk again, are you?

You're not in the mood for this,
are you? No, I'm not.

I've had it up to the back fangs
with all the magicians and illusions.

In my day, Joyce,
Halloween hardly existed.

What's it all for?
Selling a load of flaming tosh?

You're taking it very seriously.

Well, yes, yes, I am. I've got
two very unpleasant murders here.

And I don't know why,
but they both have to do with people

who actually believe in all this
magic...this voodoo.

Well, that's adults.
Children have more sense.

They only pretend to believe in
Halloween, for the fun.

That's why it can't really do them
any harm.

The blow didn't k*ll him, did it?

It cut deep, but not that deep.

And it was an axe, was it?
Possibly.

It's certainly not that one.

Now, this is what
he wanted to show me.

What does it mean?

Well, he believed it meant m*rder.

My bedroom's on the far side
of the house.

I didn't hear anything. It was only
when I went into the library -

Mr Wilmington, did you know
that I was here last night?

Yes, I saw your car.

I did try to listen.
Did you hear?

No. He shut the door. Why did you
want to listen in the first place?

I wanted to know what you knew.

I didn't tell the truth.

About Jean.

We argued over books
I stole for Hugo.

He threatened to tell Aloysius
if I stopped.

He persuaded me that I'd be
a prime suspect if you found out
about the books.

I doubt Hugo Cartwright had very much
insight in that department.

But I am telling you the truth now.

That's the least I owe to my uncle.

The psychiatrist's gone.

He'll send her back to hospital.

She's under heavy sedation.
She won't come home again.

Not without the chemical equivalent
of a lobotomy.

You can't give up.

Last night...I was upset and angry.

All the more angry because you've
been dragged into this unholy mess

that constitutes my family.

I know how long you've had to
deal with your mother's illness.

I know it's got worse and worse.
But...

If you need strength sometimes...

..I could be strong enough
for both of us.

Without you I couldn't have kept her
at home at all.

I'm sorry...

My feelings for you,
I think you know.

I don't want you hurt.

Tristan, I don't think
you could ever hurt me.

Please, let's talk.

There's nothing we can say.

What's in my family -
it's not just...eccentricity.

It goes much deeper.

I summon Kelmaret...

demon of air...

I summon Belas...

..demon of water!

He's dead, Pa!

The traitor is dead.
Of course he's dead, child!

He found the book.

The book has struck him down!

For Mr Barnaby.

J is Jean Wildacre. Kn*fe.

H, Hugo Cartwright. Arrow.

And A. Aloysius Wilmington. Axe.

E?
Estelle Balliol.

It was her ceremony
that Aloysius remembered.

This is where they were all standing
at the time of her initiation.

See, three murders,
three ritual weapons.

This diagram gives us
the connection between them.

When was the ceremony?
Ah, he didn't say.

But reading the autobiography,
I put it early Seventies.

So who's "R"?
Ah...don't know.

The initiation rite says Estelle
Balliol should be in the centre,

but she's not - she's over there.
I think it'd be easiest to ask her.

Ernest Balliol certainly believes
Aloysius betrayed the Temple.

Yeah, but if you're going to get
revenge, why wait years to do it?

Unless it was the publication
of the book?

But that doesn't explain
why Jean and Hugo are dead.

No, it does not.
Oh...

From Mr Thorneycroft.

Sausages.

Sausages.
What's the man playing at now?

Mr Thorneycroft...I'm sorry...

I can't accept gifts.

Now, I have left a very important
m*rder investigation

to come and talk to you
on this B road.

It was Tuesday night.

I was leaving Mrs Brand's,
the usual way.

Over the back wall?

Past Hugo's shop.

Somebody outside...

I didn't want to be seen, of course.
She was standing outside the shop.

Talking to herself, mumbling.

Then she went off,
up the alley at the side.

Who, Mr Thorneycroft? Who?

Isolde Balliol.

Just tell me where she's gone.

I need to talk to your daughter.

She's gone to the Wilmington place,
to see Simon. She's angry.

She's not...she's not quite right.
Estelle!

Well, is she? Is she, Ernest?

This is more persecution.

Why didn't you tell me yesterday?

For God's sake, Isolde.
My uncle d*ed last night.

You think I care about that?

You wouldn't have known about
that book without me.

Even then I had to push you
like a...slug.

I had to sleep with a slug.

You find something you're not worthy
to touch and you don't tell me!

Show it to me!
The library's a crime scene now.

Are the police here? They think
he was m*rder*d like Jean and Hugo.

This is more important!
Not to me, it isn't.

I was very fond of the old bastard.

And as for the book, yes,
it is wonderful,

but a million miles away
from all your claptrap.

At least Aloysius
knew what I'd found.

You showed it to him?

You knew what he was.
How he betrayed me. Shut up, Isolde.

You screwed me
to get what you wanted.

Well, I listened to your mumbo-jumbo
to get what I wanted.

Call it quits.

Remember what the monk said: "A book
to turn the world upside down."

This is what he risked his soul
to save.

Three charred pages...

..from a New Testament.

A very special one.

William Tyndale's first translation.

St Paul, Izzy. Read it.

No!

No!

Everything I did - for this?

I k*lled Hugo...for a Bible?

No! No!

(CRIES OUT)

No, no, no! That's enough, let go.
Let it go!

The Tyndale - the fire!

Stop. That's enough.

Hugo Cartwright.

You were outside his shop
the night he was k*lled.

You have no power over me.

But I do have a witness.

She said she k*lled him.

And it wasn't even necessary.

I'll stay on for a few days.

No.

You have to go.

I'm so sorry.
It's the only way, Christine.

I am here to search your house,
Mr Balliol.

I'd appreciate your cooperation.
No, Sergeant. You can't come in.

Show us a search warrant!

I have reason to believe
there is evidence

relating to a serious crime.
I don't need a warrant.

Where is Isolde?

Ernest, just find Tristan.

Right.

Sergeant.

Please, Mrs Balliol.

We have a witness who says you were
outside the shop just before : .

Is that true?
I went there to stop him.

To stop him?

Hugo was blackmailing Simon.

It didn't matter
when it was only a few books.

It didn't matter
when it was only a few books.

But he was trying to find
what we were looking for.

I could never really trust Simon.

I could never really trust Simon.

I could never really trust Simon.

What were you looking for?

Nothing!
You were looking for nothing?

Nothing. But I didn't know that.

I believed what my father
had told me.

Somewhere in that library was a book
of power, hidden for centuries.

Aloysius's secret.

But I wasn't going to give it
to my father. It belonged to me.

I knew how to use it.

But it was all about nothing!

So you were there...

and you told Simon Wilmington
that you had indeed k*lled him.

And we have a lot of
forensic evidence

from the Cartwright m*rder scene.

Don't be silly!

There isn't any forensic evidence
to find.

Can we talk about the...
the other two?

Jean Wildacre
and Aloysius Wilmington.

Why? I didn't k*ll them.

I didn't mean to k*ll Hugo.

It was just...the power of the spell
was too strong.

The power of the spell.

Are you really this slow?

Does this mean anything to you?

No.

If I told you that this was
the representation

of the initiation ceremony of the
Order of the Temple of Thoth...

Isolde, can you help me here, please?

This is something that happened
years ago.

Now, "A" is Aloysius Wilmington.

"J", Jean Wildacre.

"H" is Hugo Cartwright.

We don't know who the "R" is.

But we think that the "E"...
is your Mum, Estelle.

They were all in the Temple then.
Pa told me.

E could be Estelle.
But she's not my mother, all right?

Well, Aloysius said he was almost
positive that it was Mrs Balliol.

Is there another Mrs Balliol?

Of course.

Ma.

Rosemary Balliol.

It makes sense. Yes. If this was her
initiation, then "E" would be Pa.

Is your mother still alive?

Yes and no.
KNOCK ON DOOR

Wait.

What?
She was in Ecuador.

A holiday.
But she knows about these frogs.

But she didn't k*ll anyone, though.

Isolde...

do you recognise this?

I'm a witch.

It's a picture of me
with one of my familiars.

A witch on holiday in Ecuador.

I know what it is.

Who took this photo?

My brother, of course. Tristan.

RINGS BELL

The police have arrested Isolde.

Good. It's about time
talking out of your backside
became a criminal offence.

She said it herself, Tristan.
She k*lled Hugo Cartwright.

Help us.

Look, I'm sorry I don't know
if your mother's -

..In or out of the bin?

In now.

Not inside.

It's Ma's house. To me, anyway.

I don't want you in it.

The police think there was some sort
of poison for Jean and Aloysius.

But not...not for Hugo.

It was the power of Isolde's curse.

She couldn't have k*lled anybody.
But why would she say it?

Because you made her.

RINGS BELL

Detective Sergeant Jones,
Causton CID.

I'm looking for Tristan
and his father.

Well, they're both here,
they're in the garden.

Thank you.

Only the best in ritual weapons.

(WEAKLY) Hm?

Wh-What's happening?

Jean, Hugo, Aloysius.

All there the night Ma was initiated
into the Temple.

Remember?

I've heard her version.

Heard it here...
heard it in a locked ward...

heard it when she was in
a straitjacket,

terrors tormenting
her psychotic mind.

She thinks she's possessed
by demons.

Four demons.

No way back for her.

No way back for the idiots
who put an unstable woman

through a ceremony
that sent her barking mad.

We couldn't have known!

Three demons dead.

You're the last.

People stress them out.

See how sticky their backs are?

It's stress.

Hey, hey, hey!

You all right?

(GASPS)

Can you get up?

I...I doubt there's...

there's much...point.

This is the night...
sacred to Thoth...

when...when the veil
between the living...

..between the living and the d...

Aloysius never scotched the rumour
of a magical book, did he?

A pot of gold.

Ernest Balliol, he wanted to steal
that book for revenge.

But Isolde, she wasn't so selfish.

She honestly believed
she could use that book

to restore her mother's sanity.

But there was a treasure. Er, no...

Not the one they expected.

Does Simon know about...?
No, no, no.

He thinks his father d*ed
before he was born.

I'm not the one to change that now,
am I? Not even Jones knows.

OK, long faces off. Showtime!

DOORBELL

Now, Dad, I never thought I'd have
to say to you but...

put your teeth in.

CHILDREN SCREAM EXCITEDLY

There you go.