Episode 1 Dirk Gently

Why do you think it's a bomb?

I didn't say it was a bomb, MacDuff. I said it was a suspicious package.

Well, call the bomb squad. That's what they do. They defuse bombs.

If it's a bomb, we should call the bomb squad.

I think it may have been the local bomb squad who sent it to me.

Accidentally kill a man's wife and there's a 30% chance he'll be forever grateful.

Accidentally combust a man's sniffer dog and he'll never forgive you.

PHONE RINGS

You'd like me to get that, would you?

Hello?

It's Mr Edwards. He says he thinks someone's trying to kill him.

Tell Mr Edwards we'll be with him shortly.

He says you said we'd be with him shortly over 24 hours ago.

Tell him this time I mean it.

Mr Edwards... Yes, no. I... Mm-hm. Yes.

No, it's just we think someone might be trying to kill us as well.

We will be with you as soon as we can, OK?

What is it?

Why is someone sending you a Valentine's card in April?

The question is, who is sending me a Valentine's Day card in April,

and what are the series of interconnected events that have led

this woman to fall completely and hopelessly in love with me?

Let's go.

Hello?

Mr Edwards?

Mr Edwards!

What if someone really was trying to kill him?

Mr Edwards!

He seemed pretty convinced.

Impossible.

How can you be so sure?

The circumstances of my first meeting him

lead me to believe that he is a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

-Are you following me?

-Yes.

I explained to Mr Edwards that I was using a technique known as Zen navigation.

There's a school of thought that says when hopelessly lost, you should consult a map.

My own strategy is to find someone who looks like they know where they're going and follow them.

I rarely end up where I was intending to go but I often end up somewhere I needed to be.

Wow, that's bollocks.

It clearly works, MacDuff.

The perilous state of our company's finances suggested that

we were in dire need of a client,

while Mr Edwards was in dire need of a private detective.

He hired us, believing the Pentagon have him under surveillance.

Why would they have him under surveillance?

They are the default setting of all conspiracy theorists.

It is a case of the grown man who cried "Pentagon".

It seems his paranoia has now escalated into the deluded belief

that somebody is trying to kill him,

when, in fact, he has less chance of being murdered than you or I.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, I feel sick.

Something's wrong.

Of course something's wrong, Dirk. He's dead.

Someone really was trying to kill him.

What if he really was under surveillance?

What if the Pentagon murdered him?

Tortured him and then murdered him?

In my experience, the people who believe they are going to be murdered by the Pentagon,

are invariably NOT the people who get murdered by the Pentagon.

He really was a conspiracy theorist.

I'm a bit freaked out. Are you freaking out?

Robbing a dead man. That is cheap, even for you.

If the police find my business card in his wallet,

they will no doubt hold me for questioning.

Solving this case while languishing in a police cell is beyond even my investigative abilities.

Of course, there is the small matter of some unpaid expenses.

When the police are finished with their fingerprint powder, forensics, and general bungling,

our investigation into the interconnected web of events

surrounding Mr Edwards' murder can begin in earnest.

Until then, we must flee the scene. Very quickly.

WOMAN: Wait!

ALARM BEEPS

He might be useful to us. If he's not, then we'll kill him.

ALARM BEEPS

MacDuff!

MACDUFF!

After three days, it seems the police are finally finished

with their fingerprint powder, forensics and general bungling.

We are back on the case.

In case you'd forgotten, Dirk, our client is dead,

the agency is broke.

We are trying to run a business.

At least I am.

Who's paying us to investigate this case?

The substantial reward offered for the apprehension of the killer

will offer more than adequate compensation for our time.

It's not just about the reward, though, is it?

You can't bear to be wrong.

Princess is feeling a little delicate this morning.

We must coax her back into life.

Hello.

Mrs Edwards, I presume.

My name is Dirk Gently.

Your husband hired me. This is Richard MacDuff, my assistant.

Partner, and co-owner of the company. HE MOUTHS

Why did he throw a flowerpot through my door?

Because I'm investigating your husband's murder, and there's no time to spare

in our quest to learn the truth and identify the killer.

Perhaps we can continue this conversation over a nice cup of tea.

I'm very sorry about your husband.

I can't actually believe he's dead.

I keep expecting him to walk through the door.

Thank you.

The police seem to have moved everything around.

In my experience, the police have very little respect for other people's property.

Did you know that your husband believed that the Pentagon

had him under surveillance?

Do you think it had something to do with his work?

By his work, you mean specifically...?

The computer software he was developing.

I am almost certain that you are absolutely right.

HE MOUTHS

Tea. Excellent. Thank you.

-The police seem to be getting nowhere.

-Unfortunately, that is to be expected.

Did my husband trust you, Mr Gently?

With his life.

Would you be prepared to continue your investigation?

What was my husband paying you?

Fi...six, seven, seven £700 per day, plus all reasonable expenses.

Rest assured, Mrs Edwards, the web of interconnected events

will undoubtedly lead us to your husband's killer.

David was a very paranoid man.

Wherever the software prototype is, he would have hidden it well.

If you can find it, we might discover why he was murdered.

-We are of the same mind.

-Me too. I think it's...

-Thank you, MacDuff.

I don't want to be seen to be undermining the police.

Can you be discreet, Mr Gently?

I stake my reputation on it.

In fact, I have been known to be so discreet that

even my clients doubt I'm working on their case.

Think it's possible for us to visit a crime scene without you treating it like a one-man buffet?

I believe Mr Edwards' days of requiring a mint to suck on are well and truly behind him.

I'm convinced the answer to the case lies somewhere on the wall.

As ever, we are to trust in chance, randomness and chaos to solve the case.

Wherever the dart lands in this wall,

will form the starting point of our investigation.

It sometimes takes several attempts to achieve total randomness.

The accounts are a mess.

That would explain why Mr Edwards' cheque bounced like a proverbial rubber ball on a trampoline.

Why would anyone want to invade Switzerland?

You'd need a pretty good reason.

-This isn't the work of a mad conspiracy theorist.

-Isn't it?

It's the basis of the computer software Mr Edwards was working on.

It's genius.

-Is it?

-Most computer programs help you arrive at decisions by ordering

and analysing all the relevant facts

so that they then point naturally towards the right decision.

But what if the decision which all the relevant properly organised

and analysed facts point to is not necessarily the one you want?

Then the one you want's probably wrong.

Since when did anyone care whether a decision was right or wrong?

Mr Edwards knew that so he developed a piece of software that allowed you

to specify in advance the decision you wish to reach

The program's task was then to construct an irrefutable set of

logical-sounding steps to link the premise with the conclusion.

It justifies the unjustifiable.

Don't you see, MacDuff?

If this software were to fall into the wrong hands,

then no people or nation would be safe from tyranny.

Not even the Swiss!

The very existence of the free world is at stake.

From a computer program?

Come on, Dirk, that's a stretch, even for you.

The software that came up with the WMD justification has been totally discredited.

That was a computer program?

Of course it was! What world are you living in, MacDuff?

A different one to you, obviously.

The Pentagon are clearly looking to upgrade their software.

Renew subscription to Playboy, send software prototype,

So your plan to save the free world relies on the murderer shading a notepad?

There is no doubt the murderer will return looking for the software.

All they will find on Mr Edwards' desk...

..is this notepad.

When faced with a blank piece of paper, the only option left to them will be to shade it.

And then they'll come looking for you, and me.

Isn't that dangerous?

Whether we like it or not,

we are now part of the web of interconnected events that surround this case.

We must provoke a reaction from the other elements.

The bait has been set, MacDuff.

I think we're being followed.

Really?

-Don't look.

-I'm not looking.

They're still there.

Do you think it's the Pentagon?

I think...it might be.

They're still there, Dirk.

Just relax.

-I am relaxed.

-Relax more.

We're nearly there. Just act calm.

Just see if they stop when we stop.

They're coming for us. This sort of thing doesn't happen, does it?

It is imperative that they don't know that we

know that they're following us.

We must maintain the element of surprise.

Oh, God, it's happening. It's really happening.

Go, go, go, go.

-What about Janice?

-She'll be all right.

I'm looking for Dirk Gently.

There's a woman here to see you.

Then show her in.

-What are you doing?

-You show her in!

How can I show her in when I'm already in myself?

Perhaps it would be best if I showed myself in?

Were you following us?

She wasn't following us, just going to the same place at the same time,

which, in itself, is profoundly relevant. Dirk. Dirk Gently.

Emma Reynolds.

-Richard MacDuff, partner.

-Assistant.

You must tell us what brought you here.

The very existence of the free world is at stake.

I think my husband's having an affair.

Oh, boring...

Please.

OK, um, what makes you think your husband is having an affair?

Well, he's been behaving so strangely.

He's irrational and impulsive.

He stays away for hours and then

he's all secretive about where he's been,

or he says he doesn't remember.

-I just want to be sure.

-Yeah.

-I need proof.

-Yeah.

Um, well, we'd, we'd, we'd love to help, obviously,

wouldn't we, Dirk?

Er, but we are, we're in the middle of a very big case at the moment,

a murder. It could have international implications.

It's big, it's, um, well, it's potentially huge, so...

Er, oh.

OK.

Oh...

We used to be so happy.

He's changed.

There must be some reason.

I'll take the case.

What? I'm... Well, what about the free world, the other case?

I believe that Mr Reynolds' extramarital activities are part of

an interconnected web of events that we must come to understand in its entirety

if we are to identify Mr Edwards' killer.

Thank you.

Quick settlement of my invoice will be all the thanks I need.

We also need a recent photograph of your husband before we commence

what I can assure you will be a most intrusive surveillance.

The police don't seem to have any idea who killed Mr Edwards.

That's because they're looking in all the wrong places.

-We should be investigating his murder.

-We ARE investigating Mr Edwards' murder,

but we are doing so tangentially.

SCOOTER BEEPS

Ooh! Our pizza.

Excellent.

What's the time?

What time do you make? What time do you have?

What time do you make it at the moment? What time is it now?

-It's a different address.

-Look, it says here...

Can you read that?

That's my pizza. I should have that pizza.

Their promotional material clearly states that if the pizza

isn't delivered within the hour, then it is free.

Probably doesn't count when you give them the wrong address.

MacDuff, that's him! That's Mr Reynolds.

Right, I'll take the philandering soon-to-be-divorced husband,

you take the attractive woman of Mediterranean origin.

-She's on a bike.

-Then you will need to run.

-Do you need a lift?

-Huh?

-Where are you going?

-Um, where are you going?

Islington.

What an amazing coincidence!

-I can smell pizza.

-Oh, that's me. You have a keen sense of smell.

It's very good of you to give me a lift like this.

It's my horoscope. It predicted that today I would help a stranger,

and, well, here we are.

You think our meeting like this can be explained by your horoscope?

Well, how else would you explain it? It's him. Terence Brown.

He's amazing. His horoscopes are so accurate.

It's coming true every day.

It was just little things to start with. Now it's everything.

It's like it's taking over my life.

You're suggesting that the movements of planets, billions of light years away,

are somehow determining your actions? You realise that's completely impossible?

I didn't believe it either to start with.

But, er, it's really happening.

I was a happily married man.

About a month ago, my horoscope predicted that a new romantic

possibility would present itself.

That's when I met, um...

Maria. She was struggling with her shopping.

She'd hurt her ankle while performing a routine.

-She's a pole dancer.

-Pole dancer.

Why are you making notes?

Oh, it's, it's, it's professional habit.

-You're a private detective?

-Mm.

Perhaps I can be of some service to you?

Mr Reynolds hired you?

So now we're charging two clients to investigate the same case?

That has to go against our code of conduct.

Do we have a code of conduct?

Of course, we don't. It's you.

They're clearly not the same case.

Ms Reynolds asked us to find out whether her husband is cheating.

Mr Reynolds asked us to find out why his horoscope is seemingly coming true.

The two cases are undoubtedly connected,

but they are not the same case,

as is clearly demonstrated by the fact that they have separate files,

and they are both inextricably linked to Mr Edwards,

as clearly demonstrated by the fact they

reside in the same filing cabinet

So what's the connection?

Is there some sort of professional link? Is there a personal connection?

-What does Mr Reynolds do for a living?

-I don't know.

If the connections were that simple,

-any idiot could set themselves up as a holistic detective.

-Oh, really?

Conspiracy theories and horoscopes are all a product

the same ill-conceived desire to impose order on the world.

What their proponents fail to understand is that we must

embrace chaos if we are to come to an understanding of the world

in all its complexity.

There's some men here!

That'll be for me.

Hi, guys, come on in.

Will that be all right?

-Thanks, guys.

-Cheers, mate.

What the hell is that?

-I'm your partner.

-Assistant.

I need somewhere to work.

Well, now that you're comfortable, MacDuff,

perhaps you would care to keep an eye out for Mr Edwards' murderer

who's probably shaded the notepad by now and may well be stopping by at any moment.

I can't see anyone.

I suspect they'll wait until it's dark.

It is dark.

Then I suspect they'll be paying us a visit at any minute.

Did you know you can tell a lot about a person by their handwriting?

Observe the wild loops and the extravagant down strokes.

Let me guess. It means they're completely insane.

You may well be right.

-Where are you going?

-I'm going to get us a pizza.

We're expecting a murderer to drop by any second.

-You're perfectly safe, MacDuff.

-No, I'm not.

The bait has been set.

I'm not going to stand here alone, in the trap, while you get a pizza!

Whoever the killer is, won't kill us until they've got the software.

As we haven't got it, they're never going to kill us.

We're more in danger of starving to death.

DOOR CLOSES

CAR REVS OUTSIDE

Dirk?

DOOR SLAMS

Dirk?

DOOR CREAKS

DOG BARKS NEARBY

-Ow!

-What the hell are you doing, MacDuff? You nearly made me drop my pizza!

-Someone attacked me.

-That was me you idiot!

No, before that. Someone else attacked me.

Then whoever it is has fallen straight into the middle

of my carefully prepared trap.

No, don't worry about me. I'm fine.

Anticipating that the murderer would wish to ransack our office

in search of the software, I had the foresight to install surveillance.

Dim the lights, MacDuff.

The identity of Mr Edwards' murderer will soon be revealed.

-Where are you going?

-I'm going to get us a pizza.

We're expecting a murderer any second.

"I'm Dirk Gently. It's all interconnected.

"My assistant will make you tea."

CLEARS THROAT

I was just killing some time.

Dirk?

Right, if you'd told me there was a camera there,

that would never have happened.

You see, this is why you need to start treating me like a partner.

Are you happy now, MacDuff? Are you?

You stabbed my chair.

You stabbed my...

-What is it?

-Shh!

What is that?

It appears your chair was bugged, MacDuff.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Jesus. The Pentagon bugged my chair. They know everything.

They attacked me.

Dirk...

..what if they know where I live?

I'll call Susan.

Susan, it's Richard. Listen, I need you to...

No, just go to a friend's house.

Don't... I can't ex...

No, just go, please, just go to a friend's house!

She's going to go to a friend's house.

If the Pentagon bugged your chair, then they will have heard me

say that we are not in fact in possession of the software.

Therefore, they would have no need to assault you and ransack the office.

Well, then who attacked me? Someone attacked me.

Right before you did, I mean.

It appears we've provoked several reactions from other elements in the web,

and we must now try and understand the connections between them.

-Ms Reynolds.

-Sorry. I've been calling all day,

but I keep getting stuck in some sort of automated answering service.

Yes, yes. It can be rather stubborn. Please, take a seat.

I had to find out if you've made any progress with the investigation.

Well, it appears the case is more complex than we initially thought.

-What do you mean?

-Your husband believes his horoscope is coming true.

As this is impossible, something else is afoot,

and by following the web of interconnected events,

I feel confident that we will discover what it is.

But is he having an affair?

Oh, yes, he's having an affair with a rather attractive woman of Mediterranean origin.

She has lovely skin.

SHE GASPS

SHE BEGINS TO WEEP

CRYING

HE MOUTHS

Right, I'll just get my assistant to make you a cup of tea.

Mr Gently, I have to talk to you. It's my horoscope.

It says that "a dark secret will be exposed."

Now, I think that my wife knows...

Emma, why are you here?

I hired Mr Gently.

-Why are you here?

-I hired Mr Gently.

Can I just say right here, we are treating these as two very distinct cases.

Separate files.

You're having an affair.

No, it's not what you think. It's not me. It's my horoscope.

-It's Jupiter rising.

-Why?

Emma, it's not me!

-It's what my horoscope predicted.

-What does it say?

-"Life will deliver a slap in the face."

-Now do you believe me?

Absolutely not. In the morning, after a good night's sleep, and a hearty breakfast,

and after I have evaded the Pentagon surveillance,

I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that these events

have nothing to do with Jupiter, or any other planet, rising.

CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS

-What have you done to your leg?

-There is nothing wrong with my leg, MacDuff.

I took three tubes and four different buses on the way here, hopping on and off all the way.

I don't think I was followed. Did you see anyone?

No, but that doesn't mean we aren't being watched.

Why are we here?

How is this getting us any closer to Mr Edwards' killer?

Well, that's the beauty of holistic detection, MacDuff.

We're getting closer, even when it appears we are moving further away.

Mr Brown will see you now. You can go up.

Please take a seat.

-I prefer to stand.

-Right.

So, what can I do for you, Mr Gently?

I'm led to believe that you specialise in providing

personalised horoscopes.

Yes, we e-mail them to over two million people worldwide.

Our client has come to believe that the predictions

made in his horoscope are coming true.

You sound surprised.

Well, a scientific mind such as mine can never accept that

the movements of planets billions of light years away

are in any way responsible for determining our behaviour.

-I'm not sure what it is you're telling me.

-Don't look at me.

I presume these horoscopes are generated by some kind of

computer program stored on a server.

-Correct.

-Mm.

Well, then it would appear that this software

is responsible for my client's distress.

You think our computer software is somehow victimising your client?

It would appear so, yes.

PHONE RINGS

I believe that's your phone ringing.

Hello. What?

Jesus, how bad is it?

No, call a plumber. I'll be right there.

A pipe's burst in my flat. The whole place is flooded.

I'm sorry, I really have to go.

I'm surprised that your horoscope wasn't able to predict such an unfortunate calamity.

Has anyone ever told you you're an annoying prick?

Yeah, he gets that a lot.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I really have to go.

No problem. A burst pipe waits for no man.

We'll show ourselves out.

Oh, God.

Please tell me you're not going to urinate on that man's computer server.

-Don't be ridiculous, MacDuff.

-Oh, silly me, you've simply got a sledgehammer down your pants.

Unlike our good friend the astrologer, I was able to predict

that his flat was to be the subject of a most unfortunate act of God.

Hello.

I'm from the water company.

-That should do it.

-Do what exactly?

Dirk, you're going to get us arrested.

We're conducting a scientific experiment to categorically prove

that our client's horoscope is not in fact predicting the events in his life.

I think we're being followed.

Right, are we really being followed,

or is it just someone going to the same place at the same time?

-I think we're really being followed.

-How can you tell?

-They're flashing their lights at us.

-Well, what do they want?

-I have no intention of stopping to find out.

Come on, you beautiful bitch!

Jesus!

-They're coming for us!

-Get down!

-Back up! Put it in reverse!

I'm can't! It's disappeared!

-What do you mean it's disappeared?

-It was here earlier.

-Well, where is it now?

-I don't know.

-Just let me do it.

-No!

-Find it!

-I'm trying!

Ah, Detective Inspector Gilks. What a pleasant and unexpected surprise.

It has come to my attention that you may be withholding a key piece of evidence...

Not withholding anything. There's not been any withholding.

..in relation to the murder of a one Mr Edwards.

May I ask what has led you to draw such an erroneous conclusion?

Well, it appears Mr Edwards wrote a to-do list shortly before he died.

"Pick up dry cleaning, renew subscription to Playboy,

"send software prototype to Dirk Gently".

Now, how is that for erroneous?

I see. Well, as I've not received any prototype, I can only assume

it's languishing in the black hole that passes for my local sorting office.

-Who are you working for, Gently?

-I'm not at liberty to divulge that information.

There is no greater bond of trust than that between a detective and his client.

-Arrest him.

-I'm working for Mrs Edwards.

-Ow!

-Really?

Mrs Edwards, as in the wife of Mr Edwards?

Yeah, the very same.

That really is remarkable...

Thank you.

..considering that Mrs Edwards was killed in a car accident in September of last year.

Mrs Edwards, as in the wife of Mr Edwards?

-The very same.

-Well, that is remarkable.

I put my hands up. You've caught me out in an outrageous lie. There is no client.

I'm merely interested in collecting the reward offered for the apprehension of Mr Edwards' killer.

That's obviously another lie. Well, I have no intention of arresting you.

-Very wise.

-Your incompetent meddling is more than likely to get you killed,

and then I shall undoubtedly have some new leads to pursue.

You are my tethered goat, Gently.

Why did we assume she was Mrs Edwards?

Well, when I startle a woman tidying her kitchen cupboards by throwing a large

concrete flowerpot through her back door, I feel it's safe to assume she's the lady of the house.

She was searching them, not tidying. That's why she didn't know where the tea was.

Then it's probably safe to assume she in fact works for the Pentagon

and was looking for the software prototype.

There is only one way to be sure.

Mrs Edwards? Dirk Gently.

There's been a significant breakthrough in the investigation.

Perhaps we could meet.

You know, we're probably going to end up being water-boarded.

If they do torture us, I'm going to talk, and I'm going to tell them this is all down to you.

Perhaps you'd like to cower in the Princess like a startled sparrow?

Mrs Edwards, I must say you look remarkably well,

for a dead woman.

She must have thought I was being incredibly sarcastic.

DOOR SLAMS

-Where's the front door?

-What?

The front door. We've got to get out of here.

-I thought we were looking for the killer.

-No, we're running away from the killer.

-Are we chasing the killer, or is the killer chasing us?

-Why would we chase the killer?

We have to go to the police and tell them the woman pretending to be Mrs Edwards has been murdered.

You think the police will protect us? You heard Gilks. I'm his tethered goat.

I don't want to be a tethered goat, Dirk. Tethered goats die, horribly.

Well, we only appear to be tethered, when, in fact, the noose has slipped from our necks,

and we're about to spring into action.

No. No, we go to the police. We go to the police and we come clean. We tell them everything.

We don't tell them about you robbing Mr Edwards after he'd been murdered. That bit they don't need to know.

We're not going to the police, are we?

No, we're following that white car.

Of course we're following that white car. In an emergency, follow a white car.

Why are we following a white car?

Because it looks like it knows where it's going. Zen navigation.

The goats are un-tethered and travelling in some style!

So this Zen navigation of yours has led us to the pub.

I believe it will transpire that this is exactly where we needed to be.

I think the guy we followed knows we're following him.

Then I imagine he's rather paranoid.

Who are you calling?

Our astrology experiment should have worked by now.

Ah, Mr Reynolds. Dirk Gently.

I was wondering if you'd care to join myself and my assistant for a drink.

What exactly is this horoscope experiment going to prove anyway?

If Mr Reynolds walks through that door, as I expect him to do at any moment,

wearing some extravagant head gear

and talking of an encounter with a rhinoceros,

then I will have proven that the connections between events are inevitable

and, more often than not, accidental,

and are in no way predetermined by the movement of planets billions of light years away.

Mr Reynolds, how good of you to join us,

and I see you've brought a friend.

Yeah, my horoscope said I'd encounter a rhinoceros.

Walking along the street, someone throws him out of a window onto a skip.

I can assure you that your horoscope predicted no such thing.

Read it. It says it right here.

I do not doubt what it says, but that is not your horoscope,

on account of the computer server that sends out the horoscopes

having met with a most unfortunate accident earlier in the day.

What you have in your hand is merely an e-mail that I sent you,

purporting to be your horoscope.

If I'd suggested you had an encounter with a cast-iron bath, and you were strong enough,

-you'd now be carrying that around with you.

-There was a cast-iron bath in the skip.

There always is.

Your horoscope was never coming true.

When you started to believe it was,

it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I found it in the back of the taxi on the way here.

I can't even remember when I started to believe that my horoscope was coming true.

What's happening to me?

Emma! My marriage is over.

Your life has been restored to its natural, chaotic state.

Oh, Jesus.

That's my invoice.

The more pressing question is how this development relates to Mr Edwards' murder.

There's been an interesting development, MacDuff.

Someone has sent me another Valentine's Day card.

Well, if I'd known it was this important, I'd have got here a lot sooner.

The Valentine's Day card was delivered by hand.

We will soon discover who has been sending them, and this time,

I've made certain that your chair will not sabotage me.

You've sawn off the back my chair?

You cannot deny that it didn't have it coming, MacDuff.

Why are you obsessing over Valentine's Day cards

and stuffed fluffy pigs, Dirk?

Our lives are in danger.

I've already told you, MacDuff. Since we are not, in fact, in possession of

the computer software that the murderer is seeking, we are perfectly safe.

-MacDuff?

-What?

It's a memory stick.

I believe it's safe to assume it contains the prototype of the software.

How can you be so sure?

It says so on the label.

So if we are in possession of what the murderer wants,

-our lives really are in danger?

-Absolutely.

Right. Then we take this to the police right now and we

find ourselves a nice little old lady who has lost her cat,

or her dog, or her husband...

Nonsense, MacDuff. Things are becoming nicely out of control.

I have to see Mr Gently!

That crazy horoscope guy is here to see you!

Then show him in!

You show him in!

I believe we have already discussed my inability to show someone in when I am already in myself!

Could we please just pay her wages?

If we pay her wages, then she will no longer turn up to work

in the futile hope that one day we will pay her wages.

Do I have to think of everything?

I'm going to die!

-That makes three of us.

-Cup of tea?

"You are nearing the end of an era,

"it will be a black day, you should realise that life is precious,

"it's time to say goodbye to the past."

Look, can't you see? They're all the same.

They're all predicting that I'm going to die.

Mr Reynolds, I believe I have already proven beyond all doubt

that your horoscope is not, in fact, coming true.

Do you still have the rhinoceros?

What are you talking about? What rhinoceros?

Are you saying you have no memory of the rhinoceros,

-or of our meeting in the pub yesterday?

-What meeting?

Interesting.

What is all this? Is this supposed to make any sense?

What is this obsession with order?

There is too much order. We must embrace the chaos!

Open your mind! Embrace the chaos!

Embrace it!

I don't want to die!

Neither did Mr Edwards.

You think you're going to die because of your horoscope.

Mr Edwards believed the Pentagon were trying to kill him.

Yes! Don't you see?

Death is...random and unexpected, and very rarely predictable.

If it were, we'd all live a lot longer.

Yes, the Pentagon didn't murder Mr Edwards.

So who was the woman pretending to be his wife? What about the bug in my chair?

I have no doubt the Pentagon wish to acquire the software prototype

and spread tyranny across the free world.

But what if Mr Edwards wasn't killed for the software?

There must be something else, something else.

These accounts are a mess.

His cheque bounced. Mr Edwards was broke.

I thought he was rich.

Mr Edwards believed he was rich. Money, money, money, you see?

Someone was stealing from him.

What about me?

I'd have thought it perfectly clear that yours and Mr Edwards' cases

are inextricably connected by mistaken assumptions about who or what is going to kill you.

So who or what is going to kill me?

I believe the answer is to be found

by investigating the causes of Mr Edwards' precarious financial situation.

Are you sure a piano or something isn't going to fall on me?

There is no sign of falling pianos, tubas or any other musical instruments. At least, not today.

You will be perfectly safe cocooned within the Princess' magnificent bosom.

-I can smell Brie.

-It makes a handy, portable snack.

I find Brie to be among the least controversial of cheeses.

You could smell my Brie?

Isn't that the guy we followed to the pub?

-That's a bit of a coincidence

-There's no such thing as coincidences, MacDuff!

Really? Why is he parked outside our office, then?

We're about to find out. We must provoke a reaction.

What the hell are you doing!?

I think you have your answer, MacDuff. He's come to kill us.

Oh, Jesus! It's happening!

I can't escape it!

Chance, chaos and randomness have brought us to this place.

We're on the verge of a breakthrough!

-Nobody move.

-He's come for me!

He's come for us!

-Hand it over.

-I'm sorry to interrupt. Who are you?

-He's Mr Edwards' accountant.

-Is he? Are you? How did you...

Mr Edwards' didn't know he was being stolen from,

only his accountant could keep that from him.

What do you mean he didn't know? Mr Edwards hired you to find out who was stealing from him.

He was on to me. That's why I had to kill him.

You killed him?

Mr Edwards hired myself and my partner because he believed the Pentagon had him under surveillance.

Oh, I see, now we've got a gun pointed at us, I'm your partner all of a sudden.

-Oh, well, there's no pleasing you, is there, MacDuff?

-Well, I think it's a bit rich...

Shut up!

You were investigating me.

You followed me from outside Mr Edwards' house after I killed that woman who was snooping around.

She was working for you, wasn't she?

We believe she was working for the Pentagon.

We only followed you because you looked like you knew where you were going.

Yes, I hope you'll no longer doubt the value of Zen navigation.

We ended up exactly where we needed to be.

Oh, no! Yeah, I think it's worked out brilliantly.

Will you shut up!

Do you think I'm stupid?

You're lying.

Hand it over!

Perhaps it would help if you were to tell us exactly what it is that you wish us to hand over?

The evidence that I killed Mr Edwards. I know you've got it.

I will shoot you.

He's going to kill us.

-He's not interested in you.

-I'll kill all of you.

If you are to die, it's only as an innocent bystander

Has someone been eating cinnamon?

I had a cinnamon whirl at the coffee shop.

You were following me.

How long have you had this acute sense of smell?

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

-You've got three seconds.

One,

two...

All right, you're absolutely right.

It's all on here, every incriminating detail.

Mr Reynolds! Mr Reynolds!

Oliver?

Don't do it, Oliver.

Listen.

Listen, we can help you, OK.

Just think of your wife. She loves you.

I can't escape it.

I want to end my life on my terms.

Oliver, you're not going to die.

You couldn't be more wrong, MacDuff.

Your erratic behaviour, your memory loss, your acute sense of smell.

These are all common symptoms of someone with a brain tumour.

It explains everything. You clearly have a massive brain tumour.

So my horoscope was right.

I am going to die.

Yeah, probably, but not because of your horoscope.

It'll be the huge, tumorous growth pressing on your frontal cortex that'll kill you.

It seems we will never learn who sent me those Valentine's Day cards.

Where's Oliver? What happened?

Your husband is fine, Ms Reynolds.

When I say fine, he has a multitude of broken bones, a fractured skull, and a brain tumour.

Brain tumour?

I believe the tumour is responsible for his recent behaviour.

The change in his mental state caused him to believe his horoscope was coming true.

The extramarital affair with the attractive woman of Mediterranean origin

is just a symptom of his condition.

Is he going to be all right?

After some rather complicated brain surgery, and a good deal of time in traction,

his doctor has assured me he will be just fine.

Thank God.

Which just leaves the very small matter of my invoice.

Does this invoice cover charging myself and my husband

for investigating the same case?

To the untrained eye,

my methods may sometimes appear somewhat tangential...

It seems we're going to have to console ourselves with

collecting the reward for apprehending Mr Edwards' killer.

Sorry.

They're not going to give us the reward when they realise the only reason

Mr Edwards' accountant murdered him was because he hired you.

Ah, but if Mr Edwards hadn't hired me,

Mr Reynolds' brain tumour may never have been diagnosed,

resulting in his untimely demise.

I am merely part of the web that interconnected those two events.

We're still not getting paid by anyone, though, are we?

You are forgetting we are still in possession of an extremely

valuable software prototype.

We're going to be rich, MacDuff!

The memory stick.

It was in my pocket.

I believe we are having the sort of day that would make even Mother Teresa kick babies.

We will be requiring tea.

I'm going on an excessively long lunch break.

Very good.

I forgot my bag.

I was just looking for a pair of scissors.

MacDuff? MacDuff?

-TV:

-'At 0700 hours local time,

'American tanks rolled across the border into Mexico.'

There's been an interesting development.

'..Faced with an overwhelming show of force, the Mexican army surrendered en masse,

'and, by midday, the American flag was flying over Mexico City.'

That is very fast, even for the Pentagon.

'The full-scale American invasion of Mexico has been met with

'surprisingly little protest from the United Nations.

'Even America's staunchest critics have conceded that the logic

'and reasoning behind the invasion appear irrefutable.'

I didn't dare to dream that I would ever return in triumph.

Someone is selling our work.

I will not fail you again.

It's a totally new approach to artificial intelligence,

modelled on the brain's synaptic patterns.

Elaine's been stolen! The gynoid, my robot, she's gone!

It's a disaster.

I find you odd, but strangely alluring.

-Are you in love?

-Is she mentally incapacitated in some way?

Where were you Dirk? Where were you?

Professor Jericho is depending on us!

Your beloved professor is not who you think he was.

This whole place gives me the creeps.

Argh!

Before you relocate to Cambridge, may I ask one last favour of you?

Unless you want to be arrested, I suggest you follow me very quickly.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd