New Tricks s03e03 Episode Script

Old Dogs

Now, we've got to be ruthless, Scruffy.
Esther wants this clutter halved.
So Come on, let's crack on.
Nowright Chest expanders.
Follow through.
And now it's Brian Lane, going for his third World Championship.
How's it going? You've been out here ages.
Oh, Brian! I'm so glad you got me to do this, you know.
I'd forgotten I had half this stuff! You're not going to keep all It's all right, it's OK Doesn't really matter if you're old and grey It's all right, I say it's OK Listen to what I say It's all right, doing fine Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine It's all right, I say it's OK We're getting to the end of the day.
In the late 1970s, there was a serial killer on the loose in South London.
The killings had all the classic hallmarks of a psychopath.
There was a particular MO and the victims seemed to be chosen at random.
The only difference from the norm was they were all dogs.
Oh, yes, I remember the fuss.
Yeah, well, another dog last night was found with the same MO in the bushes on Hampstead Heath, which makes three killings in the last two weeks.
So it's a current investigation.
Based on original files.
Well, I wouldn't touch it! Nor will any other department in the MET.
SO6 claim it's down to SO7 who reckon it's not within their remit, and the Special Inquiries team DI is threatening to resign so hey, it's come to us.
They're having a laugh, aren't they? I was a junior detective at the time and I worked on those cases.
It was a total bloody nightmare.
Yeah well, you can tell us all about it at the venue.
You know why we've got this case, don't you? It's the dogs' revenge! The top brass must think you've got some special insight into killing dogs.
The facts, Gerry.
Well, actually it's very much like the original case.
The killer started with nasty dogs like pit bulls, so no-one took much notice.
When did the headlines start? When he moved on to nice dogs with nice owners.
Yeah, the press went berserk.
That's the same old story, isn't it? The great British public care more about animals than people.
That's why it's the Royal Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals and only the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.
Anyway, the killings logged up, the police were caned and every department in the Met was diving for cover.
Apart from your lot.
Yeah.
The press were all over us like a rash.
We had to drop everything - murder, rape, burglary, so we could scour the parks looking for some bleeding dog killer! So did you ever come close? No! No, and then just as suddenly as they started, the killings stopped.
Well, what do you think? Well, I'll need to go back over the original files.
But it looks like the same MO to me.
Yep.
How could anyone do that to a poor innocent animal? So, it's been a long time, Jack.
How're you doing? Oh, I can't complain.
I've a touch of arthritis in the old knee.
Well, at your age And my arrhythmia, of course.
And I'm getting this funny tickle in my chest You should see a doctor, Jack, not a vet.
What can you tell us? Well, not so much I'm afraid.
I think it was a pit bull/Doberman cross, maybe a bit of Staff in too, and all the organs, other than the heart, have been removed.
Same MO then.
Mmm So the killer would have been spattered with blood, gore? Oh, no, not necessarily.
These organs were taken after death, not before.
How taken? Well, it's a very neat job.
A textbook mortuary incision.
I couldn't have done better myself.
Well, 30 odd years ago there was no weapon, no forensics and no witnesses.
The only leads we could come up with all had collars on them! Oh Now, the original investigation just put one name in the frame.
John Fletcher.
A weirdo who worked in the meat trade.
You mean like a butcher? No, I mean like a slaughter man in an abattoir.
Doesn't make him a psychopath.
With teenage convictions for cruelty to animals.
Dogs? Cats.
It's a classic profile.
And I'll tell you something else about psychopaths.
They might begin with animals, but they nearly always move on to humans.
We couldn't make anything stick.
Well, why don't you go and see if you can make a better job of it this time? Yes, ma'am.
Er, Mr Fletcher? I feel bloody stupid.
Tell me about it! At least we're better off than them.
Mr Fletcher? Gerry Standing and Brian Lane from the Unsolved Crime Squad.
What do you want? A dog was killed on Hampstead Heath the day before yesterday.
So one down, five million to go.
What? Have you got a dog? Yeah.
I'm not talking to you.
Forget pooper-scoopers, I'd make the bloody owners lick it up.
Have you got a dog, too? No, I never really Fine.
What do you want to know? Where were you between 9.
00 and At home.
On the net.
And you can't check my hard drive without a warrant.
I know how to change the log anyway.
What about Tuesday 21st when a Rottweiler was killed? Will you make him stop looking at me like that? Like what? Like he hates me.
Perhaps I'm prejudiced against people who don't like animals.
I hate people who don't like people.
So you approve of these killings? I can understand the reasons behind them.
What reasons? Apart from the fact that canines harbour 15 different serious diseases? Well, did you know that the money this country spends on dogs would give every child in Africa their vaccinations? And provide their family with drinking water? He agrees with me.
I what? Your mutt must cost you, what? £1500 a year? How much do you give to charities like Oxfam and Save the Children? I do my bit.
What do you get in return? A slavering, fawning slave who encourages all your worst fascistic tendencies.
What, I'M the fascist?! Do this, do that, sit, stay, beg! Love me! Make me a fuhrer! If it's any consolation, I don't like cats either.
I know.
Now look, you're obviously an educated man.
Why do you work in an abattoir? Because I enjoy it.
Mr James Farlow? Yes.
Hello, I'm Detective Superintendent Pullman.
This is Jack Halford.
Thank you for agreeing to see us.
I can't believe this has started again.
Do come in, please.
Thanks very much.
Do come through.
Oh, I'm sorry about the mess.
Mmm, something smells nice.
Ah, you've been to the Arctic! Antarctic.
I was an animal welfare officer on one of the survey teams.
You were the Canine Society field officer at the time of the original dog killings? Yes.
Do sit down.
Thank you.
Yes, I used to go out on patrol and investigate any reports of canine cruelty that were phoned through to us.
And you were first to raise the alarm.
I tried, but the police didn't take took me seriously.
Thought I was some sort of animal crank.
But that's changed? Yes, once the killings hit the press, it was mass hysteria.
So why do you think they stopped? I don't know.
Maybe it became too dangerous for the killer.
By the end, there were police everywhere and people had stopped walking their dogs anyway.
Why do you think he moved on to family pets? I don't know.
If he'd stuck to pit bulls and Rottweilers, no-one would have bothered.
I think he wanted to send out some sort of message.
What kind of message? Have you ever heard of the Human Liberation Front? Sandra? What? The Human Liberation Front.
It was a shadowy organisation set up in the mid-1970s to oppose the growing animal rights movement.
Their slogan was, "Put People First".
So they'd picket animal charities, leaflet dog owners in the park, and promote vivisection on the grounds of human benefit.
Still around? No, they folded in 1979.
Ah, just before the dog killings started! Membership was secret, but guess who their press officer was.
John Fletcher.
The very same.
And he calls ME a fascist.
All right.
Brian, you stay with Fletcher.
Gerry, Jack, I'd like you to go up to the heath and talk to anyone who uses the park regularly.
OK.
Hey Brian, look - one dog year equals seven human years, right? Once they're fully grown.
I've just been looking at the victims of the original investigation and look at this.
Oh, cheers! What I'm saying is - these dogs are practically geriatric.
I mean, what's so special about old dogs? See you later.
Brass Phillips, brass Phillips Silver standard, non-brass standard.
Well, new jar of your very own, in you go.
Arghhh Sod it! Come on, Scruffy.
Let's have a cup of tea.
Ah.
Hang on, hang on.
Put you there That'll fool her.
And you there Come on, Scruffy.
Scruffy? Scruffy? Scruffy.
And I think it's how Scruffy would have wanted to go.
But I'm going to need some time off, you know, for the arrangements.
Yes, of course.
What arrangements? Well, the funeral and so on.
After the service, Esther and I thought we'd scatter Scruffy's ashes at the bottom of the garden, under his favourite tree.
Service? As in remembrance service? It's not compulsory, you know.
Oh, I was just thinking He means, of course, we'll all be there.
You take all the time you need, Brian.
It's compassionate leave.
Thank you.
Just make sure you nail that bastard, Fletcher! We will.
I promise.
What?! Just don't take up a career in bereavement counselling, will you?! In our day, we never spoke to the press, did we, Jack? Yes, well, we need witnesses.
Down the pub, over a pint perhaps.
But never on the record.
Oh, for God's sake, it's just the local rag.
First, they give the villains a dopey nickname.
The Canine Crippen.
Then we get bombarded by weirdos.
Then they doorstep you.
I'm so glad to see that you've embraced modern police methods(!) Morning, ladies and gentlemen.
I've prepared a short statement.
On Tuesday the 16th of May, the body of a Rottweiler was found on Hampstead Heath.
All its organs had been removed.
One week later We should have ducked out of this! I cannot believe we're going to a dog's funeral.
Just stop whingeing.
Now show a bit of respect, turn your phones off.
OK, let's get on with it.
I think dogs get a bad press.
People talk about dogsbodies and dogs' dinners and things going to the dogs.
If you're ugly, you're a dog.
If you're mad, you're a dog.
If you're cringing and pathetic, you're a dog.
Well, as far as I'm concerned, that's all slander.
MOBILE PHONE RINGS Sorry, Gerry, am I boring you? No, I'm sorry, mate.
You're right! I thought Scruffy was the dog's bollocks Yes Yes, he was! Because to be true as a dog, to be loyal and loving as a dog, that's more than most people can aspire to.
MOBILE BEEPS Bloody hell, Gerry.
If you behaved a bit more like a dog and a bit less like a thick copper, you might even pass muster for a human being.
We've got to get out of here.
I told you, phones off.
They're trying to get hold of you.
There's been another dog murder.
Well, it's the same method.
The only difference is that this time it's not a stray or a pit bull.
It's exactly the same as the original case.
The killer started off with vicious dogs, then moved on to family pets.
Judging by the meat between the teeth, this one's a posh one.
His last meal appears to have been fillet steak.
The owner was a single mum living on benefits.
Again, there's no weapon and no witnesses.
Any idea how old it was? Er13.
Another old one.
You better check out Fletcher's alibi.
Jack, are you all right? Yes, I just keep getting these coughing fits.
If you were a dog, Jack, I'd be worried about distemper.
But speaking as a vet, why don't you go to a chemist? Or doctor.
Or a funeral director.
Well, there's no-one more expert on coffin fits, is there? Same as last time.
Home.
Alone.
Surfing the net.
Here's a search warrant.
I want your phone records and hard disk.
Be my guest.
She's new.
Animal lover too, is she? Yeah, but she hasn't got a dog.
What happened to your last oppo? Man's Best Friend's Best Friend? Compassionate leave.
Oh, lost someone close, has he? Yes.
The killer only chooses old dogs.
Why do you think that is? Stupidity.
If he wanted to make a difference, he'd start with puppies.
Now, I need to speak to a solicitor about a possible case of police harassment.
Bloody hell! I spent years in the murder squad and never got more than a few dozen.
Yeah, but four dead dogs and we're buried.
Look, I mean, letters, logged calls, e-mails, texts It'd take us weeks to work through this lot.
What about Fletcher? His phone records and his hard disk do prove that his computer was logged on to the web.
But it doesn't mean he was sitting at the keyboard, does it? And I'd like to see that James Farlow again.
Why? Well, he might give us an insight into why all our victims are old.
Mr Farlow Sorry to bother you but there's something I'd like to clear up.
What? I've told you everything I know.
It's just a quick question.
It won't take a minute.
This really isn't a very good time for me, you know.
That's my wife.
I'm sorry, I didn't realise.
They're bringing her back from the hospital.
Of course, I understand.
Perhaps we could arrange another day.
I don't know She's dying.
I am sorry.
I do know what it's like to lose a loved one.
I'll come back later.
No, no, I saw the local paper.
And Claire, my wife, she'd want me to do everything I can to help.
Could you just go to the kitchen, I'll be with you in a minute.
Thank you.
Dog owner number seven.
Hi, Mr Christie? Yeah.
We're from UCOS.
I believe you're expecting us.
This is Gerry Standing, I'm Detective Superintendent Sandra Pullman.
I remember from the papers.
Nice picture.
Thanks.
Please, come in.
Cheers.
Can I get you a glass of wine? Oh! Excuse the cliche, Mr Christie, but we're on duty.
Tom.
And so am I.
Sorry? I'm a wine dealer.
The Value Wine Company.
Yeah, I got a couple of bottles off your website.
You haven't got any of that '79 Pinot? Erno, but I'm just tasting a white burgundy that I wouldn't mind a second opinion on.
Yeah.
Gerry.
Well, I'm not a policeman any more.
So, Mr Christie Tom.
Please.
You were walking your dog on Hampstead Heath on the night of the recent dog murder.
Yeah.
So what did you see? Well, nothing much.
When you say nothing much? Mmm.
Bloody hell! You like? Yeah.
Did you get the oak? Absolutely.
And the gooseberry aftertaste? Yes! You know your stuff.
I didn't always.
I used to be in haulage, continental runs.
Friends started asking me to bring back wine for them.
I hope you paid the duty.
Oh, always.
Anyway, I started picking up a couple of bottles for myself, then I booked a wine-tasting holiday Now you're swilling and spitting with the best of them.
Actually, I found a bit of a niche supplying the Armed Forces.
I even ship a few cases up to your mob in Hendon.
But those probationers wouldn't know a Pinot from piss.
You on the other hand I reckon you'd care about quality.
Right now, all I care about is what you saw on the heath.
I told you, there's nothing to report.
Why did you come forward? I thought you might want to use this place as a surveillance point.
Mate, you do not want coppers tramping through your bedroom.
Don't I? It must be hard living without a diagnosis.
It's harder dying without one.
At first they thought it was some kind of brain tumour.
And now? They just don't know.
But whatever it is, it's starting to attack her joints.
Tell me, do you remember anything about the ages of the dogs that were killed? No, why? We think the killer only chose old dogs and we wondered if you'd noticed anything.
It didn't strike me at the time, but I can't recall any puppies being killed.
Anyway, what kind of psychopath could do such things to any innocent creature, young or old? Now, I'd like your opinion of this.
Here we are.
If you wouldn't mind Careful, it might be a bit hot.
Oh, cheers.
What do you think? Mmm, it's very tasty! Does it need seasoning? No, no, it seems perfect to me.
Perfect! Then you should have some! Oh! Thank you! Yeah, you're right.
You've got a fantastic view of the heath here.
Spend a lot of time watching your neighbours? I'm hardly ever here.
That's why you're welcome to set up shop.
OK, thanks, I'll bear it in mind.
Now, I always thought I might make a good detective.
Is there some kind of Munchausen by proxy thing because surveillance is just that.
There'll be no car chases or shoot outs.
Glad to hear it.
No, there's just a bit of sleuthing involved in the wine business.
Really? All those criminal chardonnays and elusive merlots? It's a game I play with my clients.
What they drink, how they drink it, tells you a lot about their character.
Guv, are you ready to go? OK, go on then, impress me.
What's your favourite wine? Chablis.
I drink the way I dress.
Seriously.
Well, it would have to be a good Bordeaux.
Notice the word good.
You know your stuff and how to treat yourself.
You wanna read my fortune as well? OK, what about me? I like a nice fizzy Lambrusco.
No, you don't.
You haven't met your favourite wine yet.
No-one's had the class to buy it for you.
Well, hope it's not expensive.
She drinks it by the bucket load.
Thank you, Gerry.
I'll be in touch.
Good.
If I need to use your bedroom for surveillance.
Yeah? This has just been delivered for you.
Thank you.
Well, aren't you going to open it? Yes, I am.
In private.
"Dear Sandra, the thought that you might actually "be knocking back cheap Lambrusco has been haunting me ever since we met.
"Allow me to offer an alternative.
"I think you'll find a new favourite amongst them.
" That's fantastic.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, bye.
Bye bye.
Excuse me, I'm working for the police.
Sorry.
Well, well well Look who we have here! Oh, hello, hello.
I can't take a short cut home, can I? You can go anywhere you like guv'nor, but first can I have a look in your bag? Yeah, go on.
Take a look.
I use them for work and they needed sharpening.
There's nowhere to sharpen knives in an abattoir? Of course there is.
But I prefer to use my own whetstone.
Why? It gets a keener edge.
Do you know how many spring lambs we killed last week? 500,000.
Not to mention 200,000 piglets, and 10 million 59-day-old chickens.
But that's all right.
Just as long as we're nice to dogs.
Those knives you were carrying are domestic.
So what? They wouldn't be used in an abattoir.
Well, they're sharper than the knives they supply.
Of course, Health & Safety won't let me use mine.
So I have to sneak them in.
And you expect us to believe this load of old cobblers, do you? KNOCK ON DOOR Can I see you for a moment? Excuse us.
They found another dog.
They reckon it was killed two hours ago.
He's been here for at least three.
How old? Stuck between the teeth of the last one? Hmm.
Well, this dog had the same final meal.
Now that can't be coincidence.
No, so I decided to analyse it and the meat was doped.
What with? Traces of mandrake root.
What's that? Well, it's a very powerful analgesic.
Yeah, but it could still kill them? With a big enough dose, yeah.
So like a lot of poisons, mandrake in small quantities has medicinal properties.
You could look at it like that.
Hey, you might try it for that cough of yours.
Well, that's pretty much what the Ancient Egyptians thought.
They used it for everything.
From a cold cure to an anaesthetic for serious operations.
Really? Did it work? Oh, yes.
Nobody uses it nowadays, though, except hippies, and homeopaths.
So we're looking for a compassionate serial killer.
Compassionate? Even without an alibi, it doesn't sound like Fletcher to me.
So what kind of rescue dog did you have in mind? Erm I don't care.
White, brown, black, mongrel.
Any sort would do.
That's so good to hear.
So many people traipse in here with a shopping list.
As if we run up dogs to order.
Not us.
Any nice puppy will do.
Puppy? Mmm, delicious.
There's something very nostalgic about beef tea.
No-one's drunk it since my great-gran was alive.
Not at all! My mum always used to give me beef tea when I was ill.
Beef tea, the latest Billy Bunter story and two weeks in bed with mumps and measles.
I bet you had the lot! I went through the card.
I almost enjoyed being ill as a kid.
Hello! Hello, Brian.
Brian.
How are things? Bloody awful.
I've been trying to find a puppy to replace Scruffy.
Yes, I can see that would be hard.
Hard? It's impossible.
The last place me and Esther went to had a policy of turning down people over 50! 50? That's ridiculous.
You'd have no chance! No smokers! Cos passive smoking is bad for the dogs.
And they don't want you to drink either.
What's passive drinking? No idea, but since hanging around with you, I'm certainly suffering from it! Anyway, they want their dog owners to be young teetotallers who don't smoke, but are married, home all day with large gardens, but have no children.
I tell you, it's easier to adopt a bloody kid.
So I'm coming back to work.
You're on a doctor's note.
Yeah, well, I'll sign myself on again.
Brian, I'm afraid you can't.
It's nothing personal.
It's a health and safety issue and the paperwork's already been filed.
So you don't want me, either.
ErmBrian? Brian, what do you know about mandrake root? Nothing.
Except it was sacred to the Egyptian dog-headed God, Anubis.
He was the keeper of the poisons, you know? No, I didn't know.
Well, I bet John Fletcher knows.
Look, Brian, if it helps, maybe you shouldn't think of Scruffy as dead but as gone to another place.
It doesn't help.
Not one word.
I feel bad enough already.
In that case, I really do need to see a man about a dog.
Oh Oh.
Are you all right? Yes.
I just felt a bit dizzy.
I must have got up too fast.
Jack, you weren't sitting down! Well, whatever Oh, thank you, that's so kind of you.
I can't promise Claire will notice but do come through.
Thank you.
The doctor's with her now.
So we've got a few minutes.
Oh, I haven't come about the murders.
I can come back later.
It's fine.
It's just that a friend of mine recently lost a dog and being quite senior himself, he's having trouble getting a rescue puppy.
That's the policy these days I'm afraid.
I was hoping you could pull a few strings with the Canine Protection Society.
Oh, no, they don't have a dog pound.
No waifs or strays I'm afraid.
Oh, well, I'm sorry to have bothered you.
Oh, no, not at all and thanks for the lovely flowers.
Oh, by the way, this is probably nothing, but when these killings first started, I remembered one of the owners asking me to take her dead dog and remove his organs.
Really? Mmm, but it wasn't something we as a society could countenance, of course.
Can you remember the name of the owner? No, but her dog was called Osiris.
Osiris, now Oh I'm sorry.
I keep getting these dizzy spells.
Oh, I don't like the sound of that.
Shall I get Claire's doctor? No, no, no.
Please, if I could just sit here and get my breath Yes, of course.
I'll get you a drink.
You haven't eaten anything.
I'm not hungry.
Well, leave it there.
You might change your mind later.
I won't.
Why don't we go for a walk? Get your appetite back.
I don't want a walk.
I'll get you the paper.
Look, I'll get thepaper.
God, parking round here's a nightmare Gerry? I made copies of the original files for you to pick at.
Then you can make a start on these.
All right? You mean work on the QT? No, certainly not.
But I can't see how Sandra could object to a little light filing.
ESTHER: Tea, Gerry? Oh, yes, please Look, we still don't know why the killer moved from strays to family dogs.
Or why he only clobbers old ones.
Mmm, I wonder why he leaves the hearts behind? Isn't that typical? They don't give the cause of death, here.
Kettle's on.
Or here.
Bloody amateurs.
What kind of investigation was it? Look, he's getting better by the minute! Yeah, he's never happy unless he's moaning and even then he's not pleased.
Brian seems a bit chirpier.
Gerry, do you remember a dog called Osiris in the original spate of murders? Mm, it does sound vaguely familiar.
Stupid name for a dog.
Well, I've been looking it up Listen, you've got to see someone.
I'm fine.
Osiris is Egyptian.
Now the pathologist said mandrake root was used by the Egyptians, didn't she? Yeah, yeah.
Coincidence? No such thing.
Professor Styles is an expert in Egyptology and she's the curator of this museum.
And Osiris was her dog, yeah? Fourth victim.
December 5th, 1979.
Osiris disappeared when we were out for a walk and that was the last I saw of him until they found his mutilated body.
I can't tell you how upset I was.
I couldn't sleep for months.
How old was he, Professor? He would have been 13.
That's him there.
What, that little statue? That's not a statue, Detective, that's his mummiform.
His what? On his earthly passing, Osiris was mummified so his essence and his shrunken body will be preserved for all eternity.
Do you believe in reincarnation? No.
I believe the Great god Anubis, will guide me to the life beyond.
So I preserve all his canine descendants, or at least as many as I can.
I'll show you.
Here we have Ammut who passed on in 1992.
Isis, Nefertiti and Tutankhamun, you probably passed in the lower gallery.
Do you mummify them all yourself? No.
It would be too distressing.
Under UK law it's not permitted anyway.
I have to send them to America for the blessings of the hereafter.
And when you pass on, you're expecting to join them? Yes, I have a provision in my will.
Of course it could be years before our time comes, isn't that right, Horus? Er, excuse me, what are you feeding him? Fillet steak.
What else would you feed a descendant of a God, detective? So you reckon the probable cause of death was this mandrake root? That would be my working hypothesis, yes.
I can't be absolutely sure without analysing the liver.
Which isn't there.
Well, could that be the killer's motive for taking it? He doesn't want us to find the cause of death.
It's possible, I suppose.
In that case, why bother with the rest of the organs? He removes everything apart from the heart.
Spleen, pancreas, lungs, kidneys, the lot.
Not to begin with.
In the early cases the selection seems random.
But in every instance, he always takes the liver.
Who would want dog liver? Old dog liver.
How long does it take for mandrake root to have an effect? That depends on the size of the dog, of course.
With a large breed, I'd guess five minutes? Best keep this on the QT.
What? The cause of death? No.
The fact that I've been here.
Oh So the victim was poisoned somewhere which is five dog minutes from here in any direction.
Right No, no, no.
Dogs don't run in a straight line, do they?! Cos they're sort of hunting, tracking, sniffing things out.
So it's like two steps forward, one step back.
Right.
Ah, no, no, no Scruffy worked in squares, didn't he? Yeah! Triangulating the corners Of course.
Right So what do you think? The dogs are anaesthetised with mandrake root prior to the removal of their organs which just happens to be the first step in mummification.
That puts Professor Styles in the frame Plus she'd know all about the use of mandrake root in Ancient Egypt.
Absolutely.
OK, so she's got the know-how but where's the motive? Why kill your own dog? To put us off the scent, maybe? All right, why move from strays to family pets? Why choose only old dogs? Yeah, we haven't got enough evidence to arrest her.
Yet.
I was justtrying to be a dog.
Jack, what's going on in there? I mean, she's getting drink delivered by the caseload! I know.
I carried on in for her.
And she was very cagey about it.
She's not becoming an alky, is she? She spits it all out again! Blimey A bulimic alcoholic! Maybe she's moonlighting as a wine taster.
But where's it all coming from? The Value Wine Company.
Ah, Tom! What? That's the bloke who's got a house on the heath.
Funny, that.
He's not sending ME any wine! Maybe he doesn't fancy YOU.
You should've seen the way he looked at her.
That's a thought What? There's something about our wine expert that doesn't quite add up.
PHONE RINGS Hello? Sorted.
They only think I'm the bloody dog killer, don't they? No, they don't, I just vouched for you.
Here, have this back.
Fillet steak, Gerry, and I bet you anything, it's dosed with mandrake root.
Come on, we're going to tell Sandra.
Have you been working on the case? She'll have our guts for garters! She'll know I put you up for it.
Just say I happened to be walking on the heath and I was passing the scene of the crime and No, no.
You leave the cheating to the man who's got three ex-wives.
Come on.
So completely off your own bat, you decided to borrow a retired police dog from the Met sanctuary and take it down the park.
Yup, make myself a target.
And then Tootsie here noses out a couple of pounds of prime beef, possibly laced with mandrake root? That's right.
Good work.
Yeah, I thought so.
But there's another thing.
What? Tom, the wine shipper, the one who sends all the booze? Yep, none of your business.
Well, Tom hasn't got a dog.
What? Well, think back to when we were at his house.
Did you see a dog basket? A food bowl? Any leads? Hair on the sofa? No, cos he hasn't got a dog and the neighbour confirmed it.
Hello, Tom! Hello.
Fancy a walk? Nice walk with the DOG? No, mate, it's getting a bit dark.
Even better.
Nice stroll under the stars, the hound trotting to heel.
And he's at the vet's.
Oh, no! Tell me what's your dog's name? .
.
Rover? All right, I've never owned a dog.
So why did you say you did? It wasn't to cause trouble Then enlighten me.
I saw you in the paper.
And? I liked what I saw.
Yeah, right.
Pull the other one.
Do you mind? I want the truth.
It is the truth.
I saw you and I knew I had to get to know you.
So you made up a pack of lies? That's always the way I like to meet new men.
It bodes well for the future.
It seemed like a good idea.
I can't be the first bloke who's stretched the truth to impress a woman! Leave me out of it! I thought you'd find it romantic.
Me risking arrest and public humiliation so I could meet you.
It's a better story than we met in a pub or at Tesco's.
Do you realise this is all going down on tape? Yeah.
It gives a whole new meaning to "police harassment".
Stop enjoying this! Nope, it can't be done.
I don't know whether to charge you with wasting police time or bring in the men with the white coats.
OK, interview terminated Hang on.
Can I see you again? You're free to go, Mr Christie.
Sorry to bother you again, but something you said has been preying on my mind.
Well, as I explained earlier, we really can't help you.
I know, because I'm too old for a puppy.
That's right.
So what about an old rescue dog? Say, something ten or eleven years old? I'm sorry.
We don't have any.
What, none at all? Strays don't get old, Mr Lane.
They either die or they get put down long before they reach that kind of age.
So you never see any really old dogs? I'm afraid not.
No.
That's answered my question, thank you very much.
I've been thinking about motive Now, Professor Styles believes in the Ancient Egyptian concept of the afterlife and worships a dog-headed god.
So she says.
Ah, but which one? Is there more than one? There are two.
And if she worships the one I think she worships, I may be able to give you a perfectly rational explanation for these crimes.
Now, the more famous of the Egyptian dog-headed gods was Anubis here.
As far as I can work out, he was the god of embalming.
There was another one called Wepwawet, who was more associated with the jackal.
You see, when a master died, his prestige in the life to come depended on how many slaves and animals were sacrificed to go with him.
Before mummification, it was Wepwawet who consumed their corporeal organs in order to release their souls from earthly corruption.
That's handy.
She's not in! Oi! That's virtually breaking and entering.
Not if you knock.
You stay here, I'll go and find her and don't touch anything! So if Professor Styles is standing in for Wepwa-thingymibob, the more animals she kills, the more comfort and companionship she secures for herself in the after-world.
Right? Exactly.
And if I'm not mistaken this is a canopic jar Jack, you've got to see a doctor! I mean, this might have been priceless.
In fact, it might be.
Look at that! All the major organs apart from the heart are preserved in the jar.
Fillet steak, mandrake root, mummification.
Yeah, all beginning to fit.
Except these aren't animal remains, they're human.
I've been dreading this call for 25 years.
I knew you'd catch up with me in the end.
So you'll make a full confession? Of course.
There's no point in lying about it now.
You were acting for Wepwawet? Yes.
I knew it was against the law, but I had a religious duty to perform.
So you started with dogs and then moved onto humans.
No, I started with Henry.
Henry? My husband - Mr Styles.
Those are his organs over there.
It was his dying wish to be mummified.
I suppose he also told you that you should kill other people's dogs to keep him company? Of course not.
My husband loved dogs.
As I do.
So you're not confessing to the dog murders? No! Then what are you confessing to? Illegally interfering with a corpse, contrary to the 1847 Burial Act and failing to apply for a Home Burial Licence under the 1968 Public Health Act.
Do you think they'll put me in prison? Brian, Brian! Is he all right? He's not allergic to dogs.
So what's wrong with him? The symptoms point to some sort of brain tumour.
Symptoms, what symptoms? Nobody told me anything about symptoms.
No, there's nothing specific.
A bit of dizziness, nausea They won't know until they've done tests.
All we can do now is keep our fingers crossed.
I'd no idea it was serious.
Mary? No, love.
It's me, Sandra.
Ah I thought it was Mary.
He's too old for a medulla blastoma.
And acoustic neuromas only affect women, so it's probably a glioma.
Now they come in three kinds - there's astro Brian! Listen, mate, I know you're worried.
We all are.
But can we talk about something else? Yeah, sure.
Thank you.
Bloody hell, I hope it's not a menigeoma! Sorry, sorry, Gerry.
I'm no good at just just waiting around! Who is?! Here, did I tell you I think I know why the killer went on to family pets No.
He only wants old dogs.
We know that.
It's gotta be easier to kill a mangy old stray than one with an owner, isn't it?! But there aren't any! Dogs have to loved and looked after to reach old age.
Don't we all! Jack's got his scan results.
Well, the good news is, I haven't got a brain tumour.
So what's wrong with you? That's the bad news.
They don't know.
Anyway, they're keeping me in for observation.
If you lot really want me to feel better, you won't come back here until you've made some progress on this case.
Brian thinks he's found something.
The reason the killer moved onto family pets is you just don't get old strays.
That still doesn't explain WHY he only wants old dogs, does it? I think he wants the liver.
What? Right from the earliest cases, the selection of organs just look random, but he always takes the liver.
What's so special about old dogs' liver? Yeah, it's hardly foie gras, is it? I can't find my copy of Home Of The Blizzard by Sir Douglas Mawson.
I've had that book since I was a kid.
The Arctic explorer? No, the Antarctic explorer.
It was my favourite book when I was ten years old.
I would never have chucked that away.
Well, it's gone now.
This charity box was full yesterday! Yes, I know.
So I put a few more things in and took it to the shop.
Oh, no, I was keeping all that! Well, why didn't you put it in the keep box? I did! This is why I say don't give or chuck anything away without checking with me first.
You never know when you might need something.
Which charity shop did you go to? Gerry? Did you ever read a book called The Home Of The Blizzard by Sir Douglas Mawson when you were a kid? I barely got through the Beano.
It was one of the first genuine mysteries I ever came across and I've been fascinated by them ever since.
What's your sad, anorak childhood got to do with anything? Because his colleague, Xavier Mertz, was killed by Sir Douglas Mawson.
Only that didn't come to light until 60 years after the event.
Really? Ah.
Oh, hello! What are you doing here? I heard you were in hospital and when I came to pick up my wife's prescription, I thought I'd look in.
That's very nice of you.
Not at all.
Are you all right? Well, they think I've got a bit of a virus, but I'm feeling a lot better.
Good, good.
Sorry I didn't have time for grapes, so Thank you! Thank you very much! Well, I better be going.
You look after yourself, all right? I will.
Thanks again.
It's very kind of you.
Bye.
Bye.
It's a rare thing for anyone to take an interest in Sir Douglas Mawson these days.
You amaze me.
What's it got to do with dead dogs? Everything.
Because it's a classic tale of derring-do.
Charting Mawson's epic journey across 2,000 miles of unexplored polar waste.
Now, when Mawson and Mertz lost their supplies, they were left with a single team of Huskies miles from base camp.
At first, everything looked hopeless but they trudged on, killing and eating their sled dogs as they went.
Then Mertz grew weak very quickly.
Mawson insisted that his friend eat something.
He said he should take the soft parts of the dog, like the livers.
But he got worse.
He started suffering dizziness, nausea, stomach cramps.
Then his skin started to crack off in handfuls.
Get to the point, Brian.
Mertz died 100 miles from base camp.
Mawson soldiered on alone, finally arriving to a hero's welcome.
Now, what killed Mertz remained a mystery until an obscure article in the New England Journal Of Medicine suggested that Mawson himself had inadvertently killed his colleague.
There's something wrong with dog livers? They're lethally poisonous to human beings.
So instead of a psychopath, we're now looking for a poisoner? Yes.
And the reason why the killer only wants old dogs is that the older they get, the more poisonous their livers are.
Why? Because all the excess vitamin A that a dog gets from eating other animals is stored in his liver.
Now, if we eat those livers we ingest a lethal amount.
And apparently, one single dose of dog's liver delivers daily dose of vitamin A for adults.
How long would that take to kill someone? That depends on the dose but the pathologist said two to three months, which was just about the length of the first spate of dog murders.
We need to look over medical records and see if we can find the death certificate of anyone who died of a mysterious illness during 1979.
Oh, forgot my purse! I've got money, don't worry.
Oh, look what the cat dragged in.
I don't think so.
Why are you here? I got tired of waiting for you to sniff the killer out.
Go home, Mr Fletcher.
Well, I've come in to help! Yes.
Lassie can't be expected to solve the case all on her own.
Get on with it.
I did it.
What? You did it? I am the killer.
The man you're looking for? I killed the dogs, all of them.
This is what you would call a confession.
Well, do you need me to start whining(?) Sandra.
Hang on.
As Mr Fletcher is so keen to have a look at the interview room, will you please show him in? Here's the list.
Mysterious deaths in '79.
Blimey, is that all? Well, it's all they'll admit to.
Think Harold Shipman.
Hundreds of people murdered and nobody knew.
Jennifer Farlow.
Excuse me? Third on the list.
Jennifer Rose Farlow.
Farlow.
Yes, that's the same name as Jack's contact.
James Farlow.
Yeah.
The dog protection officer.
It's got to be.
Right Gerry, I want everything.
Background, health records, family history, the lot.
OK.
Brian and I will go and deal with Mr Fletcher.
Right.
So, it would have fooled the pathologist about the time of death.
A little dose of this, a little dose of that.
I killed all those dogs.
Every single one of them.
So run us through the details of your method, then.
Oh, no.
Not till you arrest me and set the pace machine running.
You don't want me to get off on a technicality.
I thought you didn't talk to fascists like me! That's right.
I don't.
I've got to admit, you had me fooled.
At last I can begin to see what you're up to now.
Very clever.
Thank you.
Well, you had the knives, the motive, the opportunity Of course.
You made perfect incisions.
Well, I'm trained to.
Just one question though.
When you were removing the organs of the dog, why did you always leave the liver behind? What, the liver? Yeah, why did you do that? Well, I always leave the liver behind.
You always leave the liver behind.
But why? Mr Fletcher, is there anything else you'd like to confess to? Shergar, Cock Robin, Bambi's mum? How many times do I have to tell you? You see what really interests me, is the kind of dim inadequacy that leads someone to indulge in such a pathetic fantasy.
Is it the oxygen of publicity, or something to do with your mother? You rattle my cage and I rattle yours.
I had you down for a monster, but you're not, are you? You're just a pathetic little runt.
Could have been a result though.
You don't get many of them now, do you? Remind me? What's the police clear-up for muggings and burglary? It doesn't matter, though, does it?! They're not serious crimes! They only involve people! So James Farlow was married before and his first wife, Jennifer, died in 1979.
And the dog killings stopped after her death.
According to his bank, she had a large life insurance policy which paid out on her mysterious demise.
A year later, he remarried Claire Haslam, 15 years his junior, who is the current Mrs Farlow.
Guess where he worked before coming to London? He was in the Antarctic, employed by the South Australian Survey Group to be their Husky Welfare Officer.
Of course he was.
So he would have known all about Douglas Mawson.
He could have written a book on it himself.
But instead, he decides to poison his first wife and claim the insurance money.
The Canine Protection Officer?! It all fits together, Jack.
It's almost the perfect murder.
We just have to work out how he managed to administer the poison and we nick him.
What do you give someone to eat when they're already ill and they've got no appetite? Jesus Christ, Jack! How much of that stuff have you had? Farlow! Police, open the door! SIRENS WAIL Farlow! Please be quiet.
I don't want her to get upset.
She loses her appetite so easily.
Appetite? You're poisoning her! And she's not the first.
How is Jack? A little remorse will go a long way, Mr Farlow, especially where you're going.
Remorse? I did away with that a long time ago.
So it was all just for the money? Do you know, it was.
And you had another go with wife number two.
Well, how often do you realise you can commit the perfect crime? Perfect is when you don't get caught.
Oh, come now that's rather graceless.
It's taken you a couple of decades.
I should imagine the mandrake root puzzled you a little bit? Eh? Do you know how the Ancient Greeks used to uproot the plant? Perhaps you'll enlighten us down at the station.
Oh, I love trivia.
All those little titbits that no-one knows about.
Like, Britain is the eighth largest island in the world and the boiling point of water is lower at higher altitudes Fascinating.
And the liver of aged dogs kills beautifully without a trace.
You should have joined a pub quiz No, because I'm not a dullard, like my wives or that idiot you sent to question me.
You should have heard him, "What a delicious beef tea.
Please sir, may I have some more?" If you were that clever you wouldn't have got caught.
True, but it's satisfying how things turned out.
I always hated having to hide my light under a bushel.
I could write a book! James Farlow, I am arresting you on the suspicion of murdering Jennifer Farlow.
You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something which you later rely on in court.
Oi, what are you doing? I'm discharging myself.
Are you sure you're well enough? I've never felt worse.
Can you believe it? He tried to kill me! He poisoned me, Gerry! Do you know what really pisses me off? I let him do it.
I sat and let him systematically poison me.
Do you know why? Because I made a fundamental error.
I committed a cardinal sin.
I felt sorry for him.
Me! You'd think I was old enough to have more sense! Jack, you flushed him out.
Flushed him out, I'll flush him out! I'll flush him down the nearest flushing lavatory! HE COUGHS And this bloody cough! Listen, I'm a bit tied up.
I've got a client here for a taster.
That's OK.
I just came by to return these.
I have to tell you, you've made me feel like a right prat.
I rather think you did that to yourself.
So which one did you like best? Guess.
The Semillon.
It was lovely, but not my favourite.
Chenin Blanc.
Nice, but nah.
Not the Zinfandel, surely? Not that either.
Go on, then.
Put me out of my misery.
It's a glass of dry white plonk I'm about to share with my mates.
Sorry.
Tom, I thought we were going to open Oh That's your "client", is it? Yeah Got a bit of a thing for women in uniform.
I'm a plain-clothes detective.
I know.
A man can dream, can't he? So in the end, it was just a standard insurance job.
It's like life, isn't it? Things look complicated, but actually, they're quite simple.
Well, I for one will be happy if I never see another dog in my life.
Sadly, that's not going to happen.
Brian, this is for you, mate.
ALL: Oh! Where'd you get him? Remember when you sent me down the heath? Well, I met this little old lady with this dog and she wanted to find a good home for him.
What's he called? Well, it could be Scampi, couldn't it? Scampi in a basket.
Scampi? Are you Scampi, cos you're a little scamp, aren't you? Jack, you've still got those sores on your face.
Sores! What sores? Very kind of you! I'll have a pint.
It's all right, it's OK Doesn't really matter if you're old and grey It's all right, I say it's OK Listen to what I say It's all right, you're doing fine Doesn't really matter if the sun don't shine It's all right, I say it's OK We're getting to the end of the day Hi-tech, low-tech, take your pick Cos you can't teach an old dog a brand-new trick I don't care what everybody says
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