22x06 - The Witches of Angel's Rise

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Midsomer Murders". Aired: March 23, 1997 to present.*
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Based on the crime-novel series by author Caroline Graham, `Midsomer Murders' follows the efforts of Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby to solve crimes that occur in the wealthy, isolated English county of Midsomer.
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22x06 - The Witches of Angel's Rise

Post by bunniefuu »

Amazing.

Come on to me,
oh, ancient one.

I have to go.
I'm meeting someone.

Goddess of the moon,

shine your light upon us.

Cleanse our songs

and heal our wounds.

Goddess of the moon,

shine your light upon us.

Paddy, come on.

Spatial awareness has never been
your forte, has it?

I don't know why you want a
stall at a psychic fair anyway.

Well, I'm taking full advantage
of Betty

being away with school
and doing something for me.

And as head of
the Historical Society,

I get to share my vast knowledge
of the area

and the Hades Caves
in particular,

which are

an incredible feat
of engineering with a glorious,

if somewhat questionable,
bacchanalian past.

-Oh, bacchanalian. Very good.
-Thank you.

Do you think Paddy's okay?
He barely touched his food.

Maybe he's missing
Hurricane Betty.

-See you.
-Oh.

Oh, give my love to Jamie.

He's just lost his granddad,
remember?

-Mm.
-Go easy on him, yeah?

As always.

Chuffed up buggery with that.

Good, I think.

Saint Hattie steals
the limelight again.

It's not my fault
I'm a teeny, tiny bit marvelous.

Oh, don't sulk, Gerard.

No one likes a wet wimple
on a sunny day.

Couldn't agree more.

And who am I to get in the way

of the glory
that is Hattie K Bainbridge?

Ohh.

Have we got the quartz?

It's good for a hangover,
isn't it?

Amethyst is better.

Comes from the Greek
"amethusos."

Literally means "not drunk."

Funny 'cause it's got
the word "meth" in it.

Don't look now.
Go the evil eye upon us.

Blessed day.

Hello, Hattie.

Morning, ladies.

Come, let's go and breathe fire.

Hello, Peter.
Good morning.

You sure you should
be here today?

Yeah.

Yeah, it's what my Grandpa Jimmy
would have wanted.

Chin up and all that.

Good man.

Thanks.

Victim's Tilly Mulrooney, 22.

Wallet with ID and phone.

We'll check her call history.

Who found her?

A jogger out on
their morning run.

So what do you think?

Some kind of sacrifice?

Definite ritual element. Pagan?

Or Satanic.

This was lying on her body.

It's a tarot card.

The Devil.

The nearest village
is Angel's Rise,

which is renowned for its --

Psychic Fayre.
Believe me, I know.

Love a bit of all that.

Cause of death?

Penetrative wound
with pellucid object.

Impact through the abdomen
directly into the myocardium,

or, in common parlance,

a crystal wand to the heart.

Tilly! Tilly!

-Sir, sir --
-Is that my Tilly?

No. No!

I'm very sorry
about what happened

to your daughter, Mr. Mulrooney.

Can I ask what brought you here?

Tilly didn't make it home
again last night.

And when I heard word
in the village that

police cars
had been seen up at the town...

You just know, don't you?

You said "again."

Did she make a habit
of not coming home?

Not in the way you're thinking.

But last week, she was found
wandering through the village

in the dead of night
in just her night dress.

I was worried that she'd been
having some kind of breakdown.

A breakdown?

She'd been having dreams.

Visions, she called them.

I blame the Saint-Stephens.

I'm sorry.
Who might they be?

The ones poisoning the village

with their annual
psychic sick fest.

Tilly worked for them,

probably to spite me.

Till they sacked her last week.

This...is the devil's work.

Sir.

The images on the tower,

they're called sigils or seals.

They're used in ritual magic.

Time to pay a visit
to Angel's Rise.

Shame we're reduced to
hiring out our home

for this pagan nonsense.

Needs must.

Think of it
as your credit card paid off.

We have no other source
of income.

You're a prize-winning
scientist, for crying out loud.

I was, Jeannie. Was.

Sell some of these vile books,
then.

Does your Mr. Gerard King
know you think

all things spiritual are wrong?

I got the impression
that you rather...

gave him the time of day.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Isaac up yet?

Is it past noon?

If not,
then it's highly unlikely.

For Cassian's sake, Jonas.

Look, why have you put me
here as opposed to

somewhere the energy
actually flows?

I don't know a thing
about all this.

Give me logical,
scientific thinking any day.

It's feng shui.

Here, the energy flow
straight out the door.

But the visitors flow
straight in through the door.

Typical left-brain logic.

I told Tilly.
Where is she anyway?

Pete and Jeannie
sacked her last week.

But they asked me to step in.

You know,
like I haven't got a real job.

Morning, Felix. All good?

Oh, tut, tut.

I'm much better than good,
my lovely empath influencers.

You know old Felix fancies you,
right?

In his dreams.

Can't wait to see his face
when he finds out

who's on
our crystal healing podcast.

I'm so excited about tonight.

I can literally feel
my blood reacting.

Mm. That'll be the witch in you.

Right, first thing's first.

Let's set up here, and then
we head back to Firefly, yeah?

Isaac, come on.

It's time to get up.

Chop chop.

Let's get some of God's light
in here, shall we?

What time do you call this,
anyway?

Stupidly early, Mum.

Edin Hall, owned by Peter
and Jeannie Saint-Stephens.

Peter Saint-Stephens
the scientist?

The same. Touted some years ago
as a Nobel Prize winner

owing to his pioneering work
on string theory.

Slightly odd that he's opened
his doors to this sort of thing.

Are you sure
you're going to be okay?

What with...

You know, all this
psychic...twaddle.

Nothing like keeping
an open mind, sir.

No, I'll be fine.

Has Sarah asked you
to keep an eye on me?

I don't know what
you're talking about, Winter.

Sarah is going to be
in her element,

talking about the caves, I mean.

They're pretty unique.

Is that the queen of daytime?

Gloria Hollyford? Are you sure?

Tarot, I believe.

Indeed. Simeon Dagley,

accountant by day,
tarot reader by destiny.

Care for a reading?

To be honest, we're interested
in The Devil.

His card, that is.

Tarot Tr*mp number 15
of the Major Arcana,

traditionally one
of the most feared cards.

Oh, the card that we were
thinking of is more just a --

a goat with a -- with an eye
in the middle of his forehead.

Crowley men, are you?

Not that we of.

That's from his Thoth deck.

Not as popular
as the Levi deck, but still --

I'd rather you didn't touch.

Anyone else touches the cards,

negative energy
transfers into them

and can affect my readings.

Detective Chief Inspector
Barnaby.

D.S. Winter.

Perhaps you could show us
The Devil card instead.

Not there, I take it?

Mr. Dagley,

Tilly Mulrooney's body
was found this morning

with The Devil card
placed on top of her.

Know anything about that?

But you clearly knew
Ms. Mulrooney.

Ever do readings for her?

Can't say I have, no.

Where were you last night
between 9:00 and 11:00?

I was at home at my cottage,
but I live alone.

And the cards were with you?

Seeing as you're
so protective of them.

No, I-I brought them down here
late afternoon

to get set up
ahead of this morning.

Negative energy
or no negative energy,

we'll need to take them
as potential evidence.

Also, do you know anything
about these?

It's not really my area.
Try Patty.

She's in there somewhere.

Right, chaps, who do you
want it made out to?

Ah.

I expect you're here
about Tilly.

Oh, don't worry.
Nothing otherworldly.

The jogger who found her body
does my ironing.

Rang me straight after
in a right state.

It's tragic.

Her father mentioned
a breakdown.

No.

She was an innocent
with a wild imagination.

Stuck in that farmhouse
would drive anyone potty.

She's at peace now.

Not easy for the poor souls
left behind, mind.

Ohh.

Her father also seemed to think
her death had something

to do with the occult
and all things supernatural.

Frank would think that.

He's part of the narrow-minded
fire and brimstone brigade.

Do you know anything
about sigils?

A symbol used in ritual magic.

Each sigil represents a spirit
or entity to be summoned.

Do you know if anyone
in the village is into magic?

Peter Saint-Stephens orders
a lot of books on the subject.

Ginger here is
the local librarian.

Reminds me, I should open up.

But I'll see you later.

Deep peace.

And pure white
of the moon to you.

We celebrate the moon
as it represents a strong

and powerful feminine energy.

Barnaby, of course.

Your dog, Paddy,
has not been well.

Off his food.

Grumpier than usual.

More so than even you.

How do you know this?

I was talking to your wife
earlier.

She's outside.

I think she's busy.

Oh.

Yes?

I know.

Careful, Gerard. You don't want
to peak too early.

What do those witches
mean by that?

Ignore them, Jeannie.

They just like to
stir the cauldron.

Right now,
all that matters is you.

Why don't we get a cup of tea
back at mine later?

Oh, I'm...

not sure it's...

Of course. Your call.

Just thought you might want
some space away from all this.

I know it's not
really your thing.

Mm.

That's fascinating.
Caves excavated to house

a secret society
of wealthy pagans.

Many people believe that
the Spirit of the Damned Club

remains here to this day.

I'm giving a talk on it later.
You should come up.

Of course.

And here's little old me,

just an interior designer
of distinction

sent to convert
the world to feng shui.

Did you know it comes
from the Chinese words "feng,"

meaning "wind," and "shui,"
meaning "water"?

Not "hot" and "air," then?

Hello, darling.
This is Felix.

Felix, this is my husband, John.

D.C.I. Barnaby, here
in an official capacity.

I see.

And I have a stand
that I better go stand at.

Au revoir, ma chérie.

Au revoir.

Everything alright?

The usual.

My poor Paddy, though,

he's even grumpier than I am,
apparently.

Oh, see you met Hattie, then.

Mm.

Yeah, Jeannie.

I'll have to cancel.

I'll explain later.

Yeah.

Thanks for coming.
Over here.

It's a thr*at, isn't it?

Jonas just told me about Tilly.

Do you think it's connected?

We don't know yet.

You're a psychic medium,
aren't you?

Anyone with a grudge
against you?

A disgruntled client, perhaps?

Presumably you sometimes

tell people things
they'd rather not hear.

Sometimes, but usually
just say it as we see it.

I have a spirit guide, Hakim.

We knew each other
in a previous life.

I simply relay
what Hakim shows me.

I see.

How well did you know
Tilly Mulrooney?

Not very.

Through a campaign, mainly,
to save the great crested newts.

The river runs from here
through the village

and in certain circumstances
has been known to leak

into a couple of properties.

Of the psychopaths
in particular.

Excuse me?

The empaths.

That's what they like
to call themselves.

Seems to be the new superpower
you have to have these days.

Sally Ann Barker, Rachel Finn.

Gaining air time by the second.

What's that got to do with
the river, Mr. King?

They started a petition
to reroute it

and even suggested
that I pay for it.

Is that why you opposed it?

Yes, because it would have
cost me thousands of pounds,

because technically
it's my land.

The petition
started to gain traction

until Tilly came to the rescue.

She knew all about the newts.

Turns out
they're a protected species

and rerouting the river would
have destroyed their habitat.

So happily with Tilly's help,
we won the day.

When did this all happen?

We won last week.

Excuse me.

Sally Ann Barker, Rachel Finn?

Not here.
I said I'd keep an eye.

Thanks.

You'll find them at
Moon Love Cottage, though.

Excuse me --

Dealing with a feng shui
catastrophe of epic proportions.

Excuse me, do you happen
to know

if Mr. and Mrs. Saint-Stephens
are at home?

Mum, man at the door.

Mrs. Saint-Stephens.

D.C.I. Barnaby, Causton C.I.D.

May I come in?

Tilly Mulrooney only
has herself to blame.

I'm a woman of faith.

He who sins is of the devil
for the --

For the devil has sinned
from the beginning.

Sunday school.

The Psychic Fayre
can't have gone down

well with you, then, I take it.

You could say that.

Bea, my daughter,

she dabbled.

Peter came up with the idea
of the Fayre in her memory.

No prizes for guessing
who is behind Tilly's death.

Sally Ann and Rachel.

They're into all that
crystal witch stuff.

Probably sacrificed Tilly
to some pagan god.

I gather they also recently
had a battle with Mr. King.

Oh, they did.

And, boy, did we see them off.

I'm on the council, you see.

So teaming up with Gerard King

sits all right
with your Christian beliefs.

Ah.

He's different.

And he's not a bloody incomer.

I rue the day those harpies
arrived.

Divorcees, free spirits,
turning the heads

of every Tom, d*ck, and Harriet
in the village.

Mm. I rather like them.

No fool like an old fool.

Right, Jonas?

Leave me well out of it.

Jonas Wakefield, by the way.

D.C.I. Barnaby.

My husband, Peter.

Please.

Jonas is a paramedic
and practically family.

He started out
as Peter's researcher

and was Bea's boyfriend.

Medicine -- well, science,
it's always been my thing

since I was a kid,

so I jumped at the opportunity
to be Peter's researcher

when I left school.
And once again

he's kindly agreed to step in,
help us run the event.

Because you parted company
with Tilly Mulrooney. Why?

Oh, Tilly.
Oh, that, it's dreadful.

Look, she was lovely,
but she was not very reliable.

We needed someone bit more
practical, down to Earth.

Fortunately, my shift pattern
means I've got a few days off.

And your son, does he help out?

Isaac?

You're joking, aren't you?

Just helps himself.

Oh, um, okay if I --

Mm.

Yes. Okay, Felix,
I'm on my way.

Two minutes.

Tilly Mulrooney's death
had a ritual element to it.

You have a lot of books
on the occult.

Yeah, well, I have an interest
in the history of magic.

My wife disapproves.

Which I'm sure is why you do it.

Still, it's an unusual hobby
for a scientist of some renown,

tipped for the Nobel Prize.

Well, that's a long time ago.

My thinking, therefore
my funding, went out of fashion.

It happens.

Do you practice magic?

Of course he doesn't.

Books are one thing,

but I'd divorce him
if he actually did anything.

Ah.

My interest is purely academic.

Just an armchair occultist.

Do you know anyone in
the village who does practice?

No.

At the scene
of Tilly Mulrooney's death,

there were bundles of sticks
and these sigils.

Do you recognize them?

Yes, those are seals used
in ritual magic

for the summoning of spirits.

That one I believe is Bael

from "The Lesser Key
of Solomon."

What exactly does Bael do?

Let's have a look.
Where is he?

Here he is. Bael.

It's got a hoarse voice,

is good at
making people invisible,

and he rules over
66 legions of demons.

Must keep him busy.

Also, there was a pentagram.

Upright or reversed?

Is there a difference?

Two horny points up,
single point down.

Inversed, traditionally
associated with the devil.

Oh! Oh, my gosh.

I'm so sorry.

Oh.

D.S. Winter.

Miss Barker, is that right?

Ms., not Miss.

Hey, come give us a hand,
could you?

There are some Wellingtons
over there.

Perfect, thank you.

-Thank you.
-Straight through. Enjoy.

-Panic over?
-Oh, yeah.

Just Felix complaining.

For a feng shui master,
he's not very Zen.

Tell me,
the Saint-Stephens' son Isaac --

What's he like?

Angry.

Lost.

Losing his sister hit him hard.

Hit everyone hard, I imagine.

You?

It was a tragic accident,
shocked us all.

But...

Well, you get by.
Move on, don't you?

Have you moved on?

Only you're here helping out,

still very much
part of the family.

I'll always be
part of the family

as far as Jeannie is concerned.

But...

It's three years since Bea d*ed.

I needed to

focus on living my life.

I'm only here to help out
with the Fayre.

Talking of which...

Hello.

-I got backup.
-Nice one.

Here you go.

This is all from
the river, I take it.

Yeah.

I heard that you lost
the battle.

Something to do with newts.

The newts were never
in any danger from us.

Gerard and Jeannie just used
them to influence the outcome.

What happened to Tilly?

We're not entirely sure.

Although she was stabbed
with a wand

very like the ones
on your stall.

Did it have opals
on the handle?

If it did, it's mine.

Went missing a few days ago.

What was your relationship
with Tilly Mulrooney?

I heard that she swung
the campaign against you.

We didn't have a problem
with Tilly

or that scumbag Gerard.

Such a shame
she fell under his spell.

But that's his thing, isn't it?

Manipulating women,
imposing his will on them.

Something of a rat,
perhaps.

We like your energy.

Don't we, Rach?

Oh, don't worry.

We're not going to
put a spell on you.

You should listen
to our podcast, Healing Matters.

You'd like it.

Right.

You, um --
You mentioned that Tilly

fell under Gerard King's spell.

What did you mean by that?

Tilly was vulnerable
to a man like Gerard.

Well, to be fair,
she was vulnerable to anyone

who didn't abuse her.

Abuse her? What, physically?

Or mentally -- controlling.

You ought to have a word
with her father.

Mr. Mulrooney.

Mr. Mulrooney.

Is that journal your daughter's?

-Leave it.
-I'm sorry, but I can't.

I said leave it!

I will not have that --
that evil under my roof.

It might tell us something about
what happened to your daughter.

I won't have it.

Mr. Mulrooney,

your daughter intimated
to people in the village

that you could be...
controlling.

Then either they lied
or she lied.

I told you she hadn't
been herself lately,

made rotten by all that filth.

You need to help us find
who did this to your daughter.

Can I take a look inside?

Your lot have already been.

I need to see for myself.

Ms. Thomas.

You mentioned that
Peter Saint-Stephens

orders books from you.

Can I see exactly what?

Of course.

I take it you keep a general
record of everyone who orders

or borrows books
from the library.

Yes.

You can tell a lot about
a person by the books they read.

I certainly hope so.

Tilly's mother.

She's long gone.

Gone as in...passed away, gone?

Just gone.

And this?

The devil in human form.

Bea Saint-Stephens.

The fingerprints on
The Devil card match

the ones you liberated
from the Fayre.

Presumably belonging
to Simeon Dagley.

It's his pack.

But there was also
some smudging

consistent with
handling by gloves.

So it could
have been stolen.

He said he'd taken the pack

to the venue
yesterday afternoon.

As for the wand,
two sets of prints all over it.

No match on file.

I haven't finished.

Tilly Mulrooney has erythema,

reddening around the nose
and mouth.

From what?

That I don't know.

Yet.

Some very unusual fibers
on her hair.

I need to run checks.

How is the Fayre?
I'm hoping to pop down later.

I wouldn't have thought of you

as a psychic fair
kind of person.

I'm not really, although I did
grow up surrounded by the light.

I'm the seventh child
of a seventh child.

Means I should have the gift.

Only I don't.
-Oh, trust me, you have a gift.

I think that's why I went down
a more scientific route,

although I did end up
back with the dead.

And the walking dead.

Don't, okay?

Just don't.

The empaths volunteered
their prints on these.

My hunch is they'll match any
on the wand.

I'll let you know.

Is it me or is there
a strong smell of peppermint?

I can certainly
smell something.

I'm not sure
it's peppermint, though.

Have you been smoking, Winter?

I wanted to show you this.

From Tilly Mulrooney's journal.

The tarot reader Simeon Dagley

said that he'd never done
a reading for her, right?

Check out the last thing
that she wrote in her journal.

Change your mind
about a reading?

Not exactly, no.

Is there somewhere less public
we can go and chat?

Sure. What about?

The reading you did last night
for Tilly Mulrooney.

Ticket for one, please.

Not really a fan.

More of a scientist,
to be honest.

But I've always been fascinated
by the other side.

As in the opposition.

Well, the good thing
about science is

it doesn't require belief,
just facts.

But still, enjoy.

Thank you.

How are the numbers?

First session, almost full.

Others, not so much.

Is there anything else
you need me to do for you?

Trap door, mirrors?

I'm joking. Jug of water.

I panicked.

You just told me one of my cards
was found at the m*rder scene.

I didn't want to
implicate myself.

By lying, you implicated
yourself all the more.

Yes, I'm sorry.

It's just Tilly
swore me to secrecy.

She didn't want anyone to know.

She'd had enough of her father
having a go at her.

Because he disapproved.

Yes. They'd rowed about it.

He said he thought
she was possessed.

No daughter of his.
All of that.

How did she seem in the reading?

Excited. Amazed.

It was her first time, but she
was clearly highly intuitive.

The cards that came up
clearly meant something to her.

In what way?

Well, she booked the reading

because she said
she'd had a dream.

She was convinced
it had some significance.

She didn't say
what it was about,

but hoped the reading
would reinforce it.

-Did it?
-Definitely.

The spread
made total sense to her.

Because of your interpretation?

No, I didn't say a word.
I didn't have to.

She'd gone before I could.

Did she say where she was going?

Just that she was
meeting someone.

What were the cards?

The tarot cards aren't
about prediction.

It's not literal
fortune-telling.

They're about intuition.

The Lovers doesn't necessarily
refer to lovers

any more than Death
necessarily relates to death.

The Death card can often signify
an ending or change.

Likewise, The Judgment card
can sometimes mean being reborn,

having come through
your past karmic lessons.

But if you had to say
something about them.

Each of those cards
features an angel.

They don't all.

I'd read that as
a strong connection

to the spiritual world.

Off out? Again?

I thought I'd show my face
at the psychic reading.

It starts soon. You?

No, think I'll give it a miss.

Gerard King --
not really my thing.

Now, you stop once and for all,
do you hear me?

I'm coming to find you.

Oh, my God.

Boo!

Didn't expect to see you here.

Oh, you're a worse psychic
than I thought, then.

It's an opportunity for me
to see the master at work.

Thank you for that very kind
welcome.

Loud enough to wake the dead.

Good.
That's what we like.

Got a live one here.

It seems I have a young,
outspoken woman.

Quite the chatterbox, this one.

Liked to do things her own way.

She's getting impatient with me,

telling me to get a wiggle on.

She's always said this to you,
hasn't she?

No.

Forgive me.

It's not you.

She's come to say

"I love you.

Everything's okay."

She'll always be here.

Love and light.

Jeannie?

What is it?

Are you okay?

She's having a panic att*ck.

Jeannie, can you hear me?

I don't know what happened.

Breathe.

The woman who found the body was
getting some air from the Fayre.

Said she saw no one.

Staged to mirror The Hanged Man.

Ligature marks
suggest asphyxiation.

There's plant residue
embedded in them,

possibly from some kind of vine.

Likely this.

We'll know for sure
when I get back to the lab.

They seem to be cropping up
all over the place.

Someone playing games with us.

What about the time frame?

There was a psychic reading
started an hour ago.

Could this have been done
by someone who attended that?

I think so.

Judging from
the hemorrhaging and cyanosis,

I'd say this was more
than an hour ago.

Incidentally, you were right
about the prints on the wand.

Belonged to the two women,
both on there.

Any smudging on the wand that
could be from a gloved hand?

Possibly.

So both the wand
and The Devil tarot card

could have been stolen.

Simeon Dagley said
Tilly Mulrooney

left her reading
to meet someone.

So who was she meeting?

You'd think in a village full of
psychics, someone would know.

Someone does -- the m*rder*r.

Thanks. Sir.

Apparently, it looks like
the window's been forced.

Accountant and tarot reader

isn't really a typical
career path, is it?

Always good to have something
to fall back on.

Yeah.

Interestingly, it looks like

Gerard King's finances
aren't great.

All mouth and no trousers,
my grandpa used to say.

Ooh.

Bet he didn't see that
tax liability coming.

I think we need to keep an eye
on the village tonight,

given all the, um, new moon
energy in the ether.

And you want me to be that eye,
I take it?

My eyesight's not
what it used to be.

It's fine.

It'll help me
take my mind off things.

All about intuition,
apparently.

Tilly Mulrooney had dreams

that were clearly significant
to her.

As a result,
she requested a tarot reading

to see if something came up
that echoed what she dreamt.

And did it?

Seemingly, but what could
that possibly be?

A premonition?

Oh, Lovers, is that romance?

Maybe, maybe not,
apparently.

Simeon Dagley sensed

it might be connected
to the spirit world in some way.

Hattie Bainbridge with a K.

Oh, it's a signed copy, no less.

Yeah, Hattie seems very honest
and down to earth.

Sometimes reads as though
her gift has been a burden.

In what way?

Well, on the whole celebrity
circuit thing burnt her out.

I mean, she quit
and returned to the village.

Tomorrow's the first live event
she'll have done in years.

How's Jamie?

Perfectly fine.

Oh, that, um, yeah, he's fine.

You are being sympathetic,
aren't you?

-Me?
Mm-hmm.

I'm an honorary empath.

Animal noises and pentagrams.

Not sure I like
the sound of that.

Me neither,
especially in a graveyard.

I'm sure they disappeared
through here.

I think we've found
our ritual magic.

Witches!

Sorcery!

Daughters of the devil!
Out of my way!

You.
You k*lled my little daughter.

Mr. Mulrooney, enough.

Do not drag me away
with these wicked souls!

With those who do evil!

Do not drag me away
with those who are evil!

Destroyed.

Care to explain?

What's to explain, Detective?

This is our new moon
women's group.

And the chanting?

A Sufi prayer.

This is the coming together
of powerful female energy.

Generally speaking,
men aren't welcome.

I wonder why.

We set our intentions
for the month ahead.

Say some blessings,

vent our frustrations on life
in general

and men in particular.

Before going home
and eating cake.

Or, in our case, staying up late
and getting horribly drunk.

Is that right, Ms. Thomas?
You don't seem so sure.

It's my first time.

Ginger's never done
any kind of ritual before.

She was a bit nervous,

and there was a heck of a lot
of healing to be done.

Mr. Mulrooney was convinced
that you were summoning

something a lot darker
than monthly intentions.

Why would he think
you k*lled his daughter?

He blamed Bea for his daughter's
interest in spirituality,

which he hated
and therefore us too.

That's our wishing bowl.

Ginger released
her wishes into it.

You write on scraps of paper

the things you want to change
or give up in the month ahead.

Could be bad habits, negative
emotions, controlling men.

We throw away the water,

and the negative energy
drains away with it.

You should try it sometime.

I'm fine. Thank you.

We'll check these,
if it's all the same to you.

Sleep well?

Not really.

The crime scenes bother me.

Now, the first one's magic,
the second tarot.

Not necessarily the same thing.

Both strange stuff, though.

I did a bit of reading.

Tarot, reputedly
Egyptian in origin.

Ritual magic
in pretty much every culture.

And as for witchcraft,

essentially
a Christian invention.

Meaning?

Meaning I'm not sure whether
our m*rder*r is an expert

or doesn't know
anything about any of them.

A bit like us.

I'm keen to know
what Felix Marshall was doing

last night creeping around.

Oh, I did a bit of
late-night reading myself

on the Saint-Stephens.

Bea fell from the same tower
where Tilly Mulrooney was found.

Son Isaac went off the rails

and has a form for petty theft
as a result.

Well, let's speak to him.

I would speak to his father
first.

The last message
that Simeon Dagley received

was from Peter Saint-Stephens,
and it wasn't pleasant.

"You stop this once and for all,
do you hear me?

I'm coming to find you."

Simeon's death had nothing
to do with me.

Clearly, you were angry
about something.

What?

Simeon was our accountant.

He was hassling me
over an unpaid bill.

I went to his stall.

He wasn't there,

so I checked the grounds,

drew a blank.

That's all I know.

Must have been a difficult time.

Losing your daughter.

How did your son take it?

He coped.

I need to speak with him.

Isaac, police.

Do you know
what this list refers to

or why there's mud on the bed?

No.

What about your son?

Any idea where he might be,
where he might go?

Isaac, wait.

Sir.

What were you doing
at the tower?

Just needed to think.
That's where I go.


Were you up there the night
Tilly was m*rder*d?

No.

What about Simeon Dagley?
How well did you know him?

Not very.
Saw him around a bit.

What have you done now?

Simeon Dagley's cottage
was broken into.

Your son's fingerprints are
all over his window.

Oh, don't even pretend
to act like doting parents

worried about your reckless son.

You barely acknowledge me
any other time.

So I broke in. What of it?

Is this your to-do list?

I didn't take anything, alright?
I wasn't stealing.

It's what I saw that counted.

Was Simeon blackmailing you,
Dad?

Why would Simeon Dagley
be blackmailing your father?

-This isn't about me.
-You're both fakes, frauds.

In fact, the only thing
this family does well is lie.

Don't even know what's going on
right under your nose.

You're pathetic.

And you.

Why don't you tell them the real
reason you got rid of Tilly?

It's nobody's business but ours.

I beg to differ,
Mrs. Saint-Stephens.

We get no satisfaction airing
our dirty laundry in public.

We prefer to
keep things private.

Buried, don't you mean?
Like Bea.

Dead and buried
like she never existed.

That's why you got rid of Tilly,

because she wanted to talk about
Bea and the dreams she had.

What did she say
about her dreams?

Just that they were about Bea.

We didn't get any further
because they sacked her,

because this family never --
never talks about anything.

Especially Bea.

Is that why you had the panic
att*ck at the psychic reading?

I take it your daughter was
the lively, outspoken chatterbox

who liked to do things her way.

She was...

perfectly imperfect.

And I loved her for it.

Until --
-Leave it, Jeannie, please.

No, Dad.

Let's hear it.

You blame me, don't you?

You wish she was still alive,
not me,

and that it was me
that had fallen, right?

You were with her.

You should have saved her.

You should have saved her,
Isaac.

See?

Blame.

We're good at that, aren't we?
That's what we do.

Yeah, I was there.

I watched my big sister fall.

I didn't know what to do.

Do you blame yourself or Tilly?

Cuts me up.

But no one cares about
what I think or feel.

And is that why you break into
people's houses?

For attention?

Back again, Detective?

Are you hoping to join
our inner sanctum?

Or is it another ticking off
for our bad behavior?

Heresy.

A touch of naughty witchcraft,
perhaps.

Two people are dead, Ms. Finn.

Someone is clearly targeting
people connected to the Fayre.

We just need everyone
to be extra vigilant.

Oh, amazeballs podcast,
darlings.

Oh, hello.

Glad I bumped into you.
I've got something for you.

It helps with grief,
and it brings emotional trauma

to the surface
to be healed and released.

But how did you know --

The girls had a hunch.

Sorry.

Mr. Marshall, can I ask you
what you were doing last night?

There was a crate in the back
of your van.

What was in there?

Mr. Marshall,
someone dumped a dead rat

on Mr. King's car yesterday.

Well, like attracts like
and all that.

If you're up to
something similar...

Beaver.

Beavers, to be precise.

-Two beavers.
-Excuse me?

Holly very kindly
sourced them for us

to introduce into
their new natural environment.

Felix collected them.

Rewilding, it's called.

Glad to see the back of them,
to be honest.

Smelly critters.

And just for the record,
I draw the line at rats.

-The beavers were Tilly's idea.

She felt very bad
that by protecting the newts,

she'd stopped our chances
of stopping the flooding.

She suggested that we contact
a conservation group.

Introduce them into the river
as an alternative.

In the hope that our busy little
beavers build a dam

and help restore harmony.

They're very neat.

Yeah,
nature's feng shui experts.

Well, ish. No offense.

Sir.

It's Forensics.

Tech managed
to access Isaac's phone.

It seems that
he wasn't stealing,

but he was filming.

In Tilly Mulrooney's bedroom,
the empaths' cottage,

and Simeon Dagley's.

Some kind of voyeur, maybe.

Well, I'm no expert,
but I don't think voyeurs

tend to be interested
in computer files and e-mails.

Mm. Isaac did say
something about blackmail.

Get that printed out
and blown up.

Will do.

You figured those out yet?

Actually, Winter, I think
I might have found my calling.

Thanks to Isaac Saint-Stephens,

we now know that
Tilly Mulrooney's dreams

were about his sister, Bea.

These cards somehow reinforced
those dreams.

How?

Well, if the dreams
were about Bea Saint-Stephens,

then her lover
was Jonas Wakefield.

Indeed. Simeon Dagley said
that The Lovers card

doesn't necessarily signify
a pair of lovers,

but logically it would to Tilly.

This was her first-ever
tarot reading.

It's the obvious thing to think,
so I want to speak to Jonas.

And Death could be referring
to Bea's accident.

Exactly, and Judgment
might have suggested

Bea rising from the dead
on the other side.

It's very good, sir.

Oh, and there's more.

These are the cards
Simeon Dagley turned over --

The Tower,
which again might have

made him think of
Bea's accident.

And what about
The High Priestess

and The Hermit?

Not figured that.

Yet.

Jeannie?

Are you okay?

I just can't deal.

Oh, come.

-It's okay.

Breathe. There you go.

Let's sit down.

Sit here.

I know.

Family matters are complicated.

There's a lot of hurt there.

Maybe now's the time
to confront it.

Like we talked about.

Jeannie.

This isn't about this life.

This is about many incarnations
over centuries.

Trapped karmic energy
that you need to release.

I can release it,

if you'll let me.

Are you a fan?

Me? God, no.

Each to their own, though.

Must have made for
an interesting relationship.

You and Bea, I mean.

Didn't matter to me
what she was into.

She was easy to love.

And for reasons
I will never know,

Bea loved me back.

Can I ask, did either
Tilly Mulrooney or Simeon Dagley

contact you about Bea recently?

No. Why would they?

I thought possibly
they might have

had a message for you from her.

What, from the other side?

Were you there
the night Bea d*ed?

We had arranged to meet,
but I was running late.

I was working on a project
with Peter at the time.

By the time I turned up,

I was too late.

Isaac...

well, was in bits and...

I don't think
he'll ever get over it.

Oh, sorry.

I've got a lot to do,

and I don't want to risk
this lot hexing me.

Look who I found
over by the angel cards.

Horny little devil, I am.

Forensics traced the fibers
on Tilly Mulrooney's body.

She was smothered
with a mask identical to this.

Also, your scraps of paper --

The wishes written
by the librarian.

What about them?

Well, you could
call them wishes.

I'm not sure I would.

I'd call them spells --
dark ones.

"I want vengeance.

I want him dead.

He has to be stopped."

Who?

Well, that's easy.

One name over and over.

Gerard.

We are together
in an ancient time,

as we have been
many lifetimes before

and will be again in this one.

I see our children playing.

Son and daughter.

It's Bea.

A volcano erupting.

Pompeii.

We're separating
from our children.

We are all engulfed.

We didn't get to say goodbye.

But we can heal it.

Together.

Found yourself another
willing victim, I see.

Ginger, I'm in the middle
of a regression.

It's very dangerous
to just break in.

Don't listen to him.
He did the same with me.

He told me we were destined
to be together.

That in this life,
we would be.

Ms. Thomas,
please put that down.

Why? I bought it for him.

Gerard, what is she
talking about?

Ignore her.
She's totally deranged.

I wasn't the first, Jeannie.

There's an army of women
he's left broken, shamed,

robbed of their savings
and dreams.

He took my heart, too,

and so much more.

Who did you say you were?

Marilyn Monroe?

Cleopatra?

Yes.

Cleopatra.

Really? To his Marc Antony?

I had that one, too.

What, were we both Cleopatra,
Gerard?

Please get this woman
out of my house.

Have you already
given him money?

He's a swindling liar
and a fake.

You need to know that.

How else do you think
he can afford all this?

The world needs to know
he's a con man.

Why are you standing there?
She's completely mad.

Is she?

You definitely need money to
get the tax man off your back.

We saw your accounts.

You came to the library
to gather all

the local information you needed
to use against people.

You might have broken my heart,

but I won't let you
break my spirit.

And presumably,
you knew Bea Saint-Stephens.

Might have heard her use phrases
like "Get a wiggle on."

You used my Bea to get to me?

She's lying, Jeannie.

Those witches have
put it in her head.

They've got it in for me.
-Wrong, actually.

They've empowered me
to speak my truth.

To expose you for
what you really are --

a lying, cheating rat.

Take full statements.

And we'll need any evidence
Ms. Thomas has

to back up her claims
of deception.

Will do. Where are you going?

To see a psychic.

Ms. Bainbridge,

I want to talk to you
about Isaac Saint-Stephens.

Isaac. Is he okay?

Not really.

He's just been charged
with breaking and entering.

I took the liberty
of finding out

who had booked tickets
for your show.

Several have recently
reported break-ins.

More worryingly,

two of them are now dead.

Think of Isaac.

He's currently a m*rder suspect.

I was born with a gift.

Never questioned it,

but for some reason,

my gift left me.

I was touring.

People had bought tickets.

I couldn't just go,

"Oh, sorry, no one's
coming through tonight."

So you started to, um, cheat.

Mm.

Hired people to loiter
in foyers and search online.

But I hated myself for it
and quit.

But now you've agreed
to this comeback. Why?

I needed to know I still could.

Mm.

And you can't be sure
if your gift will appear.

Enter Isaac.

I won't use any of
Isaac's information,

and if my gift doesn't come,

my gift doesn't come.

Sir.

Tech confirmed that the timings
of the footage taken

by Isaac Saint-Stephens means
that he can't be our m*rder*r.

But they also sent the documents
that he filmed

at Simeon Dagley's cottage.

We've had them blown up.

You keep an eye
on everyone around here.

I'll head back
over to the house.

You're not even angry at me,
are you?

Can you even be that?

I don't blame you.

Haven't been entirely
straight with you, either.

Or with anyone else, it seems.

Judging by your e-mail
correspondence

with Simeon Dagley.

Your breakthrough ideas
that led to you being

shortlisted for a Nobel Prize
were in fact stolen.

How did Simeon find out?

I pay an annual retainer

to the Romanian scientist

that I borrowed from.

Simeon's forensic accounting
tracked it down.

He wanted to tell the world.

I just wanted him to stop.

I am guilty.

Guilty of living a lie.

I'm not a m*rder*r.

I didn't k*ll anyone.

Been a while.

Before we start,
I have to be honest,

I never know if --

when the spirits are going to
come through,

but I'll do my best.

Your daughter
and Jonas Wakefield.

Happy?

Devoted.

When Jonas was your researcher,

as you were approaching
that thin line

between science and mysticism,

where was he on that spectrum?

Jonas? A million miles away.

That's why he stopped working
for me.

After Bea's death.

No, a long time before.

He may be a young man,

but he has a very old-school
approach to science.

Rational, unbending.

He told me he was
working with you,

and that was the reason
he wasn't at the tower.

No, he wasn't at the tower

because he disapproved of Bea's
interest in spiritual matters.

Her death just proved
his thinking.

What about belief --
does he have any?

No, none at all.

Religiously, fundamentally,
stubbornly atheist.

Has Jonas dated anyone
since your daughter?

No.

Keeps himself to himself.

He lives on his own
in a little cottage

out in the sticks.

Hello?

Are you there?

Oh!

Oh, please, don't.

Why are you doing this?

Oh, please, don't.

Let her go.

Don't come any closer.

Bea is here.

She's here.

She's not.
She can't be.

She's not here.

What if she is, Jonas?

Would she want anyone else
to go through the same pain?

Oh, what do you know about it?

I lost someone recently,

so I know a bit
about grief and pain.

The finality of it.

Stay back!

She's not here. Okay?

She's not!

Because it goes against
everything you believe in.

Science, medicine.

Facts.

Is that why you k*lled
Tilly and Simeon?

Because they believed
in an afterlife?

They thought
they were helping me,

bringing me comfort.

They were forcing
their views on me,

torturing me.

So you silenced them

and tried to make their death
look like

the work of someone
who believed.

I am not a bad person!

I'm not.

She's a fake.

This is fake.

It's all pretend.
It's impossible.

Tilly didn't think so, did she?

That's why she arranged
to meet you

to tell you about the cards
and her dream.

Figments of her imagination.

She just wouldn't
leave it alone.

For weeks she came over

telling me about her dreams.

Messages she thought
were from Bea.

I-I had to stop her.

And Simeon,

he saw something
in the cards too, didn't he?

When he told you about it,
you k*lled him.

Bea doesn't want this.

No! Liar!

She's gone.

Gone.

I should have been there
that night.

I refused to go.

But she went anyway.

By the time I swallowed
my pride and got there...

it was too late.

I held her in my arms.

And I begged her.

Begged her to stay with me.

I felt the life leave her.

There was nothing.

And nothing I could do.

Confronting grief
isn't easy for any of us.

It never ends, Jonas,
but it does change.

What if Tilly and Simeon
and Hattie's belief

can bring comfort?

The belief that Bea is okay,

she's just somewhere else,
in another room?

No!

Not without me.

Not...alone.

I can't stand --

Can't stand that thought.

That she's somewhere without me.

She's -- She's dead.

She's dead.
It's better that she's gone.

It's the only way
it makes sense.

So, was I next, Jonas?

I gave you a message
just before this event.

Were you coming for me?

To k*ll me rather than accept

that Bea is here
and she still loves you?

Oh, Jonas, Bea forgives you.

-No!
-She wants it to stop.

No! No!

None of it is real.

Bea is dead.

Stop, bubsa. Oh, stop.

Ohh.

Bea?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I'm sorry.

Thanks.

Peppermint or spirits?

Funnily enough, my Grandpa Jimmy

always had a peppermint
on the go.

Glad to hear it. Me too.

Seems I'd stashed an emergency
packet in my back pocket.

I think that might
have explained the aroma.

Or not, as the case may be.

What about Hattie
saying "Bubsa,"

Bea's pet name for Jonas,
apparently?

Common knowledge, I'm sure.

Anyone might have known that.

Or not.

Guess we'll never know.

He's back to his best, isn't he?

Yeah, he's perked up no end.

But then over the last two days,

he has had reiki
and past life healing,

colonic irrigation.

Okay, not the last one.

What have they done to you,
my boy?

Out of curiosity,
who was Paddy in his past lives?

Oh, well, surely that's obvious,
Winter.

Paddy would have been Lassie
or Greyfriars Bobby

or possibly Argos,
Odysseus's dog.

Or maybe even Odysseus himself.

Paddy's always been partial
to epic walks.

Oh.

Well, actually, John,

apparently he was a cat.

Here's to everyone
that's passed.

And to Grandpa Jimmy.

To Grandpa Jimmy.

Grandpa Jimmy.

Grandpa Jimmy.
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