Dead Poets New Tricks

# 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 #

-Why did you kill him, Mehtin?

-I didn't.

-You're lying.

Look, I admit I was a bad man ten years ago.

You were a heroin-smuggling sociopath who killed Sean Docherty.

I didn't even know the guy.

He was a poet, yeah? Do I look like I need a rhyme?

-His body was found in your yard.

-You "found" the poet on my patch

and used it as an excuse to sniff around

and bring me down for a load of other stuff.

But you never charged me for the murder

and I'm walking out of here in nine months, so go suck on that.

Sean was

bludgeoned to death and then set alight in your yard

between 10 and 10.30pm on March 29th 2002.

-If you say so.

-Yet you weren't even in London according to your chauffeur Emre.

-I was driving up to Newcastle.

-He's told that story for ten years.

He's a good lad. I'll buy him a drink when I get out.

You'll have a job. He's gone into witness protection.

But, before he went, he broke your alibi.

So go suck on that.

CHEERING AND WHISTLING

Thanks, guys. Thank you. Thank you.

You're all I got.

A mirrored hostage to beauty,

Never quite lost till very, Never quite lost till the end,

"I would nail your arms to sunset,

"I would pin your lies to luck,

"When you put me to your crimson lips and make me want to f..."

Sean Docherty at a poetry slam

-in 2001.

-That what you call it?

-He was a 22-year-old

from Belfast, recently graduated with a First from UCL

and thought the most exciting poetic prospect of the new millennium.

But his potential never got a chance to flower?

His head was smashed his head in and his body burnt to a crisp.

Found in Mehtin Topal's scrap yard.

-Who?

-Topal - was a heroin smuggler

with a network that reached from here to Turkey and beyond.

What was a poet doing mixed up with a drug smuggler?

Can I say right now, I'm allergic to poetry, OK?

so I could take an admin role in this one.

His body was so burnt, they couldn¹t get forensics,

but Docherty's skin, blood, hair, finger and footprints

-were all over the yard.

-As were Topal's.

As you¹d expect, seeing as he owned the place.

He claimed he was nowhere near, but his alibi has just gone south.

-And the initial investigation?

-The evidence was only circumstantial

and even though they had nothing solid to link into Sean's death,

the CPS did him for drug dealing and laundering. He got 16 years.

He'll have scores to settle, then, when he gets out.

We have to prevent that from happening.

They interviewed his sister before, she didn't have much to say.

No, she's since married an Eoin Donaldson, who's got a GBH from 01.

They don¹t share Sean's artistic sensibilities, then?

-I didn¹t really know him.

-Cos of the age difference?

12 years. I'd left and come over before he got to primary school.

What about when he came to university?

He wasn't interested. I saw him a few times, when he needed money,

-but he had more important things to do.

-Things that got him killed?

If you whore, fight and thieve, I¹m sure there's a price to pay.

-This is my husband, Eoin. They're asking about Sean.

-Yeah?

-How well did you know your brother-in-law?

-He was a gobshite.

-Eoin!

I'm sure he was sweet when you were in Belfast,

but when he came here, he was Billy Big Bollocks.

-He got what was coming to him.

-How did he get involved with Topal?

Sean pissed off everyone he met. Round here that's not so clever.

Can you tell us about your GBH?

Load of nonsense. I used to be a silly boy before I fell in love.

-Used to be?

-Cleaned up my act ages ago, when I met the girl of my dreams.

Look, I got nothing to hide. All I'm saying is,

if you want to find out who done Sean,

you've got a job on your hands sorting through the list.

Would you like to give us some names?

You better come next door and take a seat. This could take a while.

So we've got jilted lovers, angry husbands, dealers, pimps, bookies,

bouncers and every villain who ever fenced in North London.

Like I said, he wasn't very popular.

Mara said she hardly saw him, yet you give us a phone book - how come?

I knew Sean a bit better than she ever needs to know, you understand?

-No. Give me a little help.

-We went on the lash a few times, that's all.

Sean was OK when he wasn't a twat.

This list'll take weeks to look at. Are you sending us round the houses?

I'm telling you how it is! But if you're really in a hurry

and want to save yourselves some time...

I'm no grass, but I'll give you this for free

cos you'll never meet this geezer.

Try us.

Gourkan Ozil.

He ran some doors, sold some gear, kept a book or two.

Industrious chappie - what's he got to do with Sean?

Sean owed him. Sean owed most people,

but Ozil was the only one who'd slice you for his debt.

I didn't know poets were so minted.

We're in the wrong game. I could've been a poet.

There was a young girl from Peru, who badly needed...

Taxi's on its way to take him to the studio. You've got two minutes.

Wonder if SHE'S Peruvian.

Thank you.

-Morning.

-Morning.

Brian Lane and Gerry Standing.

Sorry I can¹t give you long, I'm due on a chat show within the hour.

Yeah? Why?

Haven't you heard? I've been voted Britain's Sexiest Poet.

-Your mum must be so proud.

-Do a lot of that kind of thing?

Too much. I only spend 20 per cent of my time actually writing.

And the rest counting your money.

Help yourself.

Oh.

"Liminal Lakes". Thanks very much. Now, you were Sean's flatmate?

Not at the time of his death. But we studied together and we were close.

You told the original investigation you didn't know where he was living.

Sean was a... a free spirit.

He slept on floors, sofas, streets, boxes and other people's beds.

When was the last time you saw him?

-Haven't you read your notes?

-We'd rather hear it first hand.

He turned up and stayed a couple of nights, on the 17th and 18th -

ten days or so before he died.

How was he?

Loud, funny,... brilliant.

Who was the last person to see him?

Good question. He never carried a phone.

Last I heard he was trying to get to a party in Ibiza.

We heard he wasn¹t very popular.

Sean... Sean could start a fight in an empty house,

-but that was only part of the story.

-But that's the part we're hearing about most.

He was also the most compassionate and inspiring of men.

Were you lovers?

Mm-hm.

Not sexually. The modern era has a myopic obsession with sexual love,

but there are other types. The Greeks had four different words.

Yes, Eros, but there was also Philia,

Agape and Storge.

Which type did you have for Sean?

Agape.

I loved Sean's mind

and his soul

and every querulous and unpredictable moment with him.

Do people kill for Agape?

I'm sure they do,

but in this case, Sean was killed by that lowlife Topal. MOBILE PHONE CHIMES

How they were involved, do you know?

He never let me near his shady side.

But I could tell he was terrified of something.

The taxi is here.

Did he ever mention a man called Gourkan Ozil?

I have to go.

He was a bookmaker. Sean owed him money.

I don't know much about bookmakers. I'm sorry I can't be more help.

He was frightened. Clammed up when we mentioned Ozil's name.

Proper blast from the past, that. I haven't heard of him for years.

-Didn¹t he keep a rival locked in a torture room?

-Death by a thousand cuts.

-If Docherty owed him, no surprise he wound up dead.

-He had a deal with Serious Crime.

I tried to get near him, they told me to back down.

-Nothing about him on file.

-Nah. SCD will have pulled it.

I thought he went back to Turkey.

-Shall I ask the intelligence unit at his local station?

-Yeah.

-Shall I ask around on the streets?

-OK.

According to the original notes,

nobody spoke to Docherty's university.

-They questioned his college friends.

-Didn¹t talk to his tutor though.

-Tutors can be close to their students.

-And the rest.

-We got a name?

Yeah, I just e-mailed HR.

The tutor was a Professor Powell,

she's an expert in modern poetry.

She's still teaching at UCL AND she was tutor to Luke Oswald.

Worth a visit. Anything on Ozil?

-Nah. Everyone¹s too frightened to talk.

-No, drop him. He's a smoke screen.

The intel unit at Ozil¹s nick say he went back to Turkey years ago.

-SCD probably helped him get there.

-Eoin Donaldson said we'd never find him.

But he didn't mention that his defence witness for his GBH in 2001

was a Mr Tony Quinn.

Quinn? Wasn't he one of Topal's men?

Yeah, he got killed during the power struggle after Topal was nicked.

If Donaldson knew one of Topal's thugs, he's got to be in the mix.

You think Eoin worked for Topal as well?

-Let's go and ask him.

-Let's call a cab.

Cab for McAndrew?

I used to hang about with Tony, got into a few scrapes.

What sort of scrapes?

Punch-ups in pubs. Tony was a big man, everyone wanted a pop at him.

Eoin, your GBH was more than that. It was intimidation of a shopkeeper.

-Looked like racketeering to me.

-Was that a job for Topal?

OK, hands up, you got me.

I was a bit of muscle, dished out a few slaps for Topal with Tony,

that's all, it was innocent.

Why didn't you tell us?

Not in front of Mara.

If she thought I did stuff for Topal...

Didn't she like the idea of someone who worked for a drug dealer?

I never touched that side of things.

Anyway, Mara's the least of your worries.

It looks to me like you avoided mentioning your connection to Topal

because you knew it linked you to the scene of crime.

I had nothing to with... Did you kill Sean?

No! Look, I¹ve been helpful!

Given you a list of people who might've wanted him dead.

To throw us off the scent. Then you gave us Ozil, a bloody ghost!

I told you he disappeared years ago.

Where to? I dunno! Turkey? Witness protection?

- Someone whacked him? I heard he... - Changing the subject again!

Look, I had nothing to do with it.

We'll be in touch.

I don¹t like you.

Auden's talking about the banality of human affliction,

but we can all do that in the pub -

"death sucks, but life goes on" is the thrust of what he's saying.

But poetry isn't about the simple pursuit of a puzzle,

it's about the method of expression.

The language of a poem IS its ideas.

Didn't Auden also argue that poetry should,

as far as possible, tell us the truth

by exposing life's contradictions?

Beaux Arts is a manifestation of that,

-the way it juxtaposes the ordinary...

-Back in the real world -

someone beat Docherty to death with a brick and set his body on fire -

have you got any idea who might've done that to him?

Did you know what was going on in his life outside these walls?

I only knew him as a student.

-What about him and Luke Oswald?

-They seemed very close.

Did you get any sense that Sean was in trouble? Did he miss lectures?

No. Not at all.

Have you ever heard of a man called Mehtin Topal?

-Not before... all this happened.

-We're trying to find a connection

between the two of them. Was Sean a druggie?

-Absolutely not.

-A dealer, then?

Sean was a prodigiously talented poet. That was his alpha and omega.

We've seen a tape of him performing at a slam. He was very compelling.

Poetry is all he ever thought about.

Really? I heard he was a bad bugger. Birds, booze and brawling.

Poetry is the pursuit of truth. You can't find that sitting at home

-with a Horlicks.

-I suppose he wore velvet jackets an' all?

I must apologise for my colleague.

It's fine. To him, poetry is fey and unimportant

whereas to me it's vital, muscular,

it plunges us into the heart of the human condition.

Absolutely.

Sean had an appetite for life and heightened experience.

-You sound like you were very fond of him.

-I was.

Did you shag him?

Why are you so determinedly anti-intellectual?

-She was selling us guff, not answering questions.

-You wear it like a badge of pride.

I was after the "truth of their human condition". They were at it.

Maybe, but there are subtler ways of drawing her out

and helping the investigation.

Maybe she did him in when he chucked her. She looked like a bunny boiler.

-She's not the type.

-You're only saying that cos you want to get into her Alans.

-Eh?

-Cockney poetry. Alan Whickers. Work it out.

I hope you like prison food, Mehtin -

cos you're gonna have an extended stay.

Is that like a joke, only much smaller? Should I be laughing?

-You lied to us.

-It's been known to happen.

So you didn't know Docherty? His brother-in-law Eoin worked for you.

Says who?

Everyone talks too loud.

Did Eoin also tell you that Sean worked for me?

So you DID know Sean?!

-Eoin introduced us.

-You've spent ten years denying any knowledge of him.

You were desperate to pin his death on me. Denial was my best tactic.

So why yourself get an alibi if you had nothing to hide?

Did Eoin also tell you that Sean grassed on him and Tony?

He put them in the dock for GBH to get off a drink-drive charge. Idiot.

- Is that why you wanted him dead? - I didn't like him. Nobody did.

He was mouthy. So he never worked for me again, but I didn't kill him.

- It's bad for business. - So who did kill him?

-Somebody was trying to stitch me up.

-Like who?

-I don't squeal.

Well, you better start, cos everyone else is at it

and from where I'm sitting, you're the only one in chains.

Eoin Donaldson. He had a motive,

-access to the yard and he had a problem with Sean.

-Is that right?

He wanted to marry the sister, but Sean kept getting him into trouble.

She doesn't want a gangster for a husband.

So Eoin does him, dumps him in my yard,

calls it in and waits for you lot to put the blame my way.

Where were you on the night of 29th March 2002?

Is this for real?

I was at Spurs-Arsenal. I know I wasn't straight with you...

Got any witnesses?

Sure.

Mark, Jase, Lenny -

they all saw me there.

Mark, Jase, Lenny. I'll be needing their full names and addresses.

I didn't say anything cos Mara would have torn me apart if she found out.

Found out what?

That I introduced Sean to Topal.

The kid ends up dead in his yard - that's game over for my marriage.

Football finishes just after 10 -

still gives you time to kill Sean.

-I was in the pub. The Barn - everyone would've seen me there.

-What, Mark? Jase? Lenny?

You admit working for Topal and introducing Sean? He needed cash. Thought I'd help.

Fat chance. What happened?

He played the big lad.

I had to slap him about - bring him in to line.

-Is this a confession, Eoin?

-I didn't kill Sean.

-Didn't he grass you up for your GBH? Is that why you killed him?

-Topal done him. Everyone knows that.

You thought Ozil last time.

Tell you what I think - Topal had nothing to do with this,

neither did Ozil or anyone else you've tried to put us on to.

Sean was a bad penny. No end of trouble. He'd already squealed once,

which proved he couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut

so you killed him and then you put him in Topal's yard

hoping he'd get the blame. That¹s what I think.

-Thank you for coming along.

-I'm happy to help, but I'm not sure what you're hoping to gain.

An understanding of how this sort of life works.

He seems very popular.

Shall we get our seats?

"You remember our summer's secret,

"Wild strawberries and honeyed wine,

"Our fingers over lawns and flowers,

"The season's ceaseless turn,

"Naked, we were pure in rapture,

"Let me be still... in your heart."

-Are you all right?

-I've heard those lines before. From Sean.

I overreacted earlier. I'm not saying Oswald stole those lines.

"Naked, we were pure in rapture"?

"Let me be still in your heart". Sean once used them on me.

Used?

He was trying to get me into bed. Oldest trick in the book.

-I expect you get a lot of that.

-Most students get crushes,

few of them do anything about it.

Sean was more impulsive.

He, um, claimed he was in love with me.

He'd been struck by "coup de foudre" - love at first sight.

"Whoever loved that loved not at first sight". Shakespeare knew his onions.

Oh, it wasn't Shakespeare actually.

Though he did use the line in As You Like It.

Marlowe coined the phrase seven years earlier.

Poets borrow and reference each other the whole time.

So when Oswald... used a line today

that you'd previously heard from Sean - doesn¹t mean he stole it?

I shouldn't have got involved,

it was completely unethical, but we were so happy.

How long were you together?

Eight months.

-This could really help us.

-It won't. That's why I didn¹t mention it before.

-You might be able to shed light...

-Our relationship was entirely personal.

It didn¹t exist in any other context.

Did he ever talk about Eoin?

He didn't tell me anything about his life.

We didn't talk about each other. We held each other and read our books.

-Where would you meet?

-My flat always. There wasn't anywhere else.

Though he did take me away to a cottage once.

Very romantic.

A place that Yeats rented once apparently.

The idea thrilled Sean, sleeping in a bed of giants.

-So what went wrong in the end?

-I had to end it.

One, the age difference.

I was doing the right thing.

He was so angry afterwards.

Got into all sorts of trouble. I just wish I hadn't hurt him.

-I knew they were at it!

-No, it was a proper love affair.

Sounds like she still loves him. Should've seized the day back then.

Still, not much to go on, is it?

It's a tangible motive.

Oswald, who wasn't a brilliant poet, kills Docherty, who was,

and nicks his poetry.

No, no, no. Brian, people kill each other because of love, hate, money -

not poncy poetry.

Well, I'd like to follow it up, Sandra. How's Eoin's alibi?

His mates are standing up for him - at the game and then the pub.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Eoin's credit card was used at 10.45

at a petrol station in Deptford!

What was he doing over there? That's nowhere near the football.

-Or the crime scene.

-Pull him in again?

No, let's wait til we get his mobile records, give him time to stew.

All right, Brian, come on, let's go and see your thieving poet.

SHE RINGS BELL

-Is Oswald here?

-No.

-Are you his partner?

-That's rather personal. You'd better come in.

I'm sorting out Luke's papers while he's away. He's lost some notebooks.

Are you his PA?

His agent. Writers can't look after themselves. You end up being

psychiatrist, butler, teacher...

-Where can we find him?

-Haven't a clue.

-You mean he's gone missing?

-No. He's gone writing.

-Where?

-Who knows?

Some writers like the monotony of sameness and work from home.

Whereas Hemmingway wrote in brothels.

Was this trip planned?

-You'll have to ask Luke.

-Or did he skip off because we turned up asking awkward questions?

Don't flatter yourself. He's got a reading tomorrow. He'll be back.

I¹ll try and get along to it.

Do you know why some of Docherty¹s work shows up in Luke's poetry?

-You suggesting he's a plagiarist?

-Just asking.

Sean and Luke were incredibly close.

They discussed ideas, themes, techniques.

You're implying Luke "stole" a line,

but it's equally possible it was Sean who stole it from Luke first.

-Have you any proof of that?

-No. And nor have you.

But poets constantly influence and quote each other in their work.

Thanks. We'll be in touch... when your client come out of hiding.

Who's she?

-Eoin's real alibi. And why he's been telling us so many fibs.

-Mistress?

Not for ten years and she still hates him for taking fright

and dumping her after Sean got killed.

-So Eoin's persuaded her in to clear his name?

-She didn't want him done for murder.

He knew the phone records would lead us to her in the end.

Anyway, she swears he was with her that night after the game.

Eoin's clean.

"GARBLED VOICE"

It's Topal all we need is the evidence.

Topal ran a tight ship - why kill a numpty like Docherty,

-then dump him in his own back yard?

-Usual story, innit?

Got cocky, thought he was bulletproof. Forgot to clean house.

He hasn't got a motive, Gerry.

Then why did he find himself an alibi and steer us to Eoin?

-What did you get out of Oswald?

-Vanished. Gone to do some writing, apparently.

-You don't sound convinced.

-I don't like people going AWOL. How we doing with Ozil?

The files have definitely been pulled but SCD and Five both swear

-they had nothing to do with it.

-Great. He's in witness protection.

I spoke to some uniform at Belmarsh, that¹s what they'd heard about him.

-That's us stuffed. We'll never be allowed to near him.

-All we¹ve got is hearsay on Ozil.

-Both Eoin and Topal are much more likely suspects.

-This is about poetry, not gangsters.

Here we go.

Oswald killed Docherty to steal his poetry.

-Why else did he disappear as soon as we turned up?

-I just want to know where he is.

-And that agent of his claims she hasn't got a clue.

-She's hiding something.

-Look at this.

-Oh, you bored our bollocks blue with this already!

-Hang on.

-"The scent..."

-There!

"Through human voices

"Shake us

"And we follow."

He was schtupping Roxanne as well?

Was this before or after the split with Powell?

-I'm not sure.

-Let's find out tomorrow morning. Come on.

What I don¹t get

is why two attractive, intelligent women are throwing themselves

-at a scrote like Docherty?

-It's the power of poetry, pal.

-Don't be daft.

-It's an aphrodisiac, man.

Ugly men have always used honeyed words to lure attractive women.

At last. An explanation of how he pulled Esther.

SMATTERING OF APPLAUSE

Darkness.

Eternal... silence.

A womb!

Twisted with regret!

Don¹t leave me! I shall die of pain!

SHE SHRIEKS La-la-la-la-lal-la-la-la-la-la

la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la...

Brilliant. I've always loved Andrew Marvell.

This York stone is £15. So we could go for that or the terracotta.

Oh, yes, listen to this.

"Had we but world enough and time,

"This coyness, lady, were no crime."

Or Indian sandstone, that's nice.

"But at my back I always hear,

"Time's winged chariot hurrying near,

"And yonder all before us lie,

-"Deserts of vast eternity."

-Well, it's your own fault.

I said we should sort out the lawn.

"Let us roll our strength and all our sweetness up into one ball,

"And tear our pleasures with rough strife

"Thorough the iron gates of life!"

Shut up.

Actually, on second thoughts... Come here.

Ooh!

Take those to the post room. And get me a double macchiato.

You again? Are you looking for representation? Is Oswald back yet?

-No.

-Anyone would think he had something to hide.

I have every confidence he'll be at his reading later.

TV shows, book tours, lectures in America - you work him hard.

Poets don¹t bathe in gold. If you want to make a living,

-you need to maintain a profile. Luke understands that.

-Why didn't you tell us

you and Sean were lovers?

I don't recall you ever asking.

Most people would volunteer the information. Less suspicious.

You can put away the nasty eyes.

I took Sean on straight from uni.

We subsequently slept with each other four times,

or rather 15 times on four occasions if you really need to know,

and he was a demanding lover, albeit a little bit impatient and weepy,

who was on the rebound and had a thing for older women.

Is this too much information or just about right?

- Is this after he finished with Powell? - That's what I meant by "rebound".

You should have told us this before.

Did he mention any of his underworld activities to you?

Nope. It was obvious he was taking a walk on the wild side

and maybe even a little bit pleased with himself for it,

but I wasn't interested in his autobiography.

I was bloody annoyed at the older-woman tag too - I was only 29.

Was his poetry any good?

He was the real deal.

-What about Oswald?

-He is also a very exciting poet, I'll make him Laureate one day.

- When did you take him on? - About the same time as Sean.

Buy one, get one free?

Poets aren't commodities.

-But they pay for all this.

-Misery memoirs of balloon-breasted celebrities pay for all this.

-Poets bring prestige.

-Who came first? Sean or Luke?

I can't remember.

You must have the details on file. Can we take a look?

The filing is pretty chaotic.

You take a look. I've got some calls to make.

This is your filing?

Yeah, we're fully computerised from 03,

but I'm afraid the rest is still on paper. Sorry.

Don¹t worry. Everything from the last 150 years is here somewhere.

I'm sure you'll find what you¹re looking for.

I wonder if Oswald is actually going to turn up.

-He'd be a fool not to.

-It would look extremely suspicious if he's done a runner.

I don't mean that, I'm talking about the amount of fit birds here!

I told you - poetry is an aphrodisiac.

You don't need an aphrodisiac with this amount of crumpet.

Open your mind to it. You might find yourself surprised.

Where's Sarah got to?

Ah, here she is.

-Hi.

-Hi. Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just...

..being silly. Overactive imagination, I expect.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Luke Oswald.

This isn't what I wanted when I set out to be a poet. Not at all.

My, um, my friend died tragically young

before his talent could flourish

and, uh, there's not a day goes by

that I don't...

This poem "Rainsong"

is a true expression of Sean Docherty¹s genius.

"Summer rain drums the heads of broken yeomen...º

"Mud-black horses shiver mouth-on-mouth,

"Gaunt and quick as drunken wind..."

-Enjoying it?

-I'm loving it. Very surprising.

Ooh, ooh!

Gotcha!

- Find what you wanted? - There was a lot to wade through.

Sorry I couldn't be more help.

We did find this. A letter you wrote to Oswald in November 2001.

You thank him for sending in his material,

but you can't represent him because you think his poetry

is "immature and lacklustre".

-There's no point mincing words.

-It's a bit confusing -

we also found a terms-of-engagement letter between the two of you

from April the following year.

Yes. So?

You turn Oswald away, then after Docherty dies, you represent him.

I had a spare place on my list.

-That simple?

-Luke sent me some new work. It was much stronger.

-Really?

-Poets mature at different moments.

Some, like Dryden and Donne, get better with age.

Some hit a couple of hot spots over 40 years

and others, like Wordsworth, never recapture the glory of their youth.

Have you ever read The Prelude?

No.

Don't.

"Saved by what I am and pulled by what will be,

"Hollow dusk widens every day..."

-MOBILE PHONE CHIMES

-Ooh...

Hello?

-Is Oswald with you?

-Yeah. He's been going for hours.

His agent is a liar and his poetry's transformed since Docherty died.

-It's time we had a chat. Will you ask him to come in?

-With pleasure.

Are you insinuating I killed my dearest friend to steal his poetry?

It's something we're considering.

Your poem "Wild Strawberries"

contains the line "Naked, we were pure in rapture

"Let me be still in your heart."

It does.

Sean Docherty wrote that in 1998.

-Says who?

-You're denying you stole the line?

Sarah Powell told you that, didn't she?

You do know she's slightly conflicted when it comes to Sean?

-So you knew about their affair?

-I was too polite to say, but seeing as she's telling tales...

Were you jealous of Sean's talent?

Yes.

He was a natural. You had to work harder. Did that make you angry?

It made me full of admiration. And proud to be his friend.

So how come his words are in your work?

This is ridiculous. Sean was 22 when he died. Brilliant though he was,

no poet produces real quality until they¹re much older.

Wordsworth was best when he was young. Have you read The Prelude?

Course I have.

-Boring, isn't it?

-What I mean is

it's hardly worth me killing him for a few pages of juvenilia.

Hm? Wouldn't it be better to wait till he's older

to get my hands on a real, decent body of work?

Why did you run away when we started asking you questions?

I went away to write.

You've got a habit of heading for the hills. When I first met you,

you were very chatty until my colleague

started asking you about Gourkan Ozil.

-I told you, I don't know him.

-You left as soon as

-his name was mentioned.

-I had a taxi waiting.

-Where did you go to write?

-I'm not telling you.

I'd advise that cooperation is the best strategy here.

I've never told anybody. That's the point of having somewhere secret.

-I don't want you disappearing again, is that understood?

-You can't stop me from working.

If I need to go away, I'll go away.

You approached Roxanne Guthrie in September 2001.

She turned you down. But she signed Sean.

Six weeks after his death, you approached her again and she agreed.

Why the change?

-You'd have to ask HER that.

-She said you got better.

She'd be right. The first pieces I sent her were... insipid.

I was impatient, immature. A callow, coltish, privileged boy.

Unlike Sean.

He'd lived! That's what was inspiring about him.

He made you a better writer?

-Yes!

-Because you stole his work.

-Because I loved him so fiercely that when he died, I became a man!

And I used my despair to become a better poet.

That quality suffuses my work today.

But I'd trade all my success and plaudits in a heartbeat,...

..if I knew it would bring Sean back.

It's annoying, but I think he's genuine.

He clearly adored the bloke.

-Didn¹t stop him nicking his poetry though, did it?

-That's going to be hard to prove.

If you ask me who's a more likely killer - Oswald or Topal and Ozil..

What about Sarah Powell? Mara? Roxanne?

-She rubbed you up the wrong way.

-I'm surprised she hasn't married her own reflection.

She's got a career, plenty of cash - why would she want to kill Sean?

She was his rebound lover after Powell. Maybe he chucked her.

She wouldn't take rejection well.

She might hurt him in a moment of passion,

but bash him on the head, douse him in petrol?

-If she hated him badly enough...

-You'd have to put Powell in the loop too.

Maybe she killed him after she found him dipping his pen with Roxanne.

Pardon my metaphor.

Any luck?

-I don't know. Women today.

-Maybe it's your technique, Gerry.

Nothing wrong with my technique, thistleface.

-PHONE RINGS

-Try a bit of poetry on her.

-Do what?

-Worked wonders for me and Esther.

-Yeah?

I read her a bit of Marvell's Coy Mistress and...

-And what?

-Poetry can be very effective.

Sarah Powell's called the station. She claims she¹s being stalked.

-Sorry to cause all this trouble.

-What happened?

-Someone followed me home.

-Why would they want to do that?

-I don't know.

-Did you get a look at him?

No, I just ran in here and locked myself in.

When I looked out, he was by that tree.

When he saw me pick up the phone to call you, he ran away.

OK, thank you.

There's a few shops further up the road.

See if you can harvest CCTV from any of those

and the ones en route from the tube.

Brian... Can you stay for a bit?

Ah, thank you.

Well, these are Sean's.

Ah, thanks.

Aha. "Rainsong" again.

Think there's any significance in Oswald reading that today?

It's one of Sean¹s best poems.

Are there any clues in Sean's work

as to what he was feeling or doing before he died?

I've looked. Analysed every verse, metre, metaphor, rhyming scheme,

-tried every sort of acrostic, numerology.

-Numerology?

You can find a "hidden" message in anything if you want to enough.

You know, like the Bible Code fanatics

or literary conspiracy theorists

who say there's a hidden sentence in Shakespeare¹s sonnets

that proclaims "Kit Marlowe wrote this."

-HE CHUCKLES

-But there¹s none of that in Sean¹s?

Sean didn't go in for layered ambiguity. His work is very direct.

Sadly, there's no hidden secrets from beyond the grave.

Oswald's pretty good though, isn't he?

Mm. Yes, I'd dismissed him as a media construct,

but I've enjoyed what I've heard of his work so far.

Here, you can borrow this if you like.

-Oh.

-There's a terrific tension in his work.

He's very big on identity, redemption,

the healing power of nature.

I think he's exploring...

Sorry. Would you mind going? I feel a bit tired.

But soft, what bike from yonder copper breaks?

How was your damsel in distress?

"Brian, Brian, wherefore art thou, Brian?"

Have you found that stalker yet?

I've got your professor coming out the tube

and I've got her walk home from bars, chemists, even a hairdresser.

But it's hard to identify anyone who looks like they're following her.

I bet it was Oswald. He's not answering. Nor is his bloody agent.

Yeah, that makes sense. He was rattled.

He probably left us and went straight to find Powell.

-Worked out she told us about the missing poetry.

-And he wanted to shut her up.

Yeah, so he's stalking her, planning his next move...

And we turn up mob-handed.

-Right, issue a picture.

-Hold it, hold it. Take a look at this.

What?

Blimey, it's Sean Docherty!

So who's the body in the yard?

I've got some good news for you, Mara.

It's not Sean's body in Mehtin Topal's scrap yard.

But then you knew that all along, didn't you?

Did you not know she lied to the police? Let us think Sean was dead?

-He's alive?

-Yeah, she probably knows where he is right now.

-I don't! I swear I don't!

-Mara...

He made me do it.

Listen, son, the Prison Authorities aren't going to let you walk

with this complication over your head.

We just want to know what actually happened in that yard.

It's not Docherty, but the bones were dressed like him.

He's your suspect, I'm in the clear.

-So what's his connection with Ozil?

-He owed him money.

Ozil had been chasing him all day. Sean was terrified.

Ozil? So he IS involved in this?

I don't know! Sean said the police would find a body with his stuff

-and when they did I was to...

-Lie.

If I didn't help him, he'd tell you lot about the jobs

that Eoin and him did for Topal.

-What jobs?

-I knew you'd stop all your bad behaviour

if Sean wasn¹t around to lead you astray!

-Where is he now?

-I don't know!

I just wanted him out of our life!

Right, how does this sound?

Ozil is after Sean for his debt.

Sean comes clean and arranges to meet him at the yard after hours.

So they get together at the yard. Sean lumps him, swaps his clothes,

pours petrol all over him and then scarpers.

Could've been planning the whole thing for months.

Yeah. All we've got to do now is find the bastard and ask him.

OK, we're saying that he burns Ozil and runs.

He's a poet who loves nature, but he's a drinker and a gambler

-and he likes a Friday-night punch-up, so where would he go?

-Isle of Dogs?

I can't find Powell. She's skipped her lectures,

hasn't been seen since last night.

Sarah!

-Sarah, are you in there?!

-Not unless she's been murdered.

-Well, it's what we're all thinking.

-We can¹t wait for backup.

-OK, I'm concerned for the safety of the person inside. All agree?

-ALL: Yeah.

Steve, do your thing.

Oh, OK.

Here we go. This should do it.

-Open sesame.

-Well done.

Sarah!

-She's not strangled in the bedroom.

-Or chopped up in the bath.

-So what's happened to her?

-She's with Docherty.

What happened here last night?

We talked.

A wide-ranging literary discussion actually, it was wonderful.

Although she did suddenly ask me to leave. Her mood just changed.

I asked her about Docherty's poems

and if they contained any hidden meaning.

It's "Rainsong". She's noticed some kind of message in "Rainsong"!

-What message?

-I'm not sure. Where he is maybe?

If we can decipher what she saw in this poem, we can find Docherty.

All right. You stick with that. Boys - with me.

I reckon Oswald, Docherty and Powell are all in on this.

-I¹m going to go to Oswald's house.

-He won't be there.

-No, but it's time his agent helped.

-I'll get on CCTV, see if there's any trace of Powell leaving here.

-OK.

-What about me?

-Track her phone, tell us where she went.

-We haven't got time for a triangulation request...

-You still got that contact at the mobile network?

-Alice? Yeah.

-Pay her a visit.

-Do I have to? She's a bit overwhelming.

Take one for the team, Gerry.

You know, there's a lot of similarities

between this and the supposed death of Christopher Marlowe in 1593.

Marlowe had debts, he was in trouble with the state

and a lot of academics reckon that he didn't die,

but faked his own death and then...

-Spare me the literary lecture. This is a manhunt.

-Yeah, but nobody can find them.

This can show us where they are!

I know you feel taken for a ride, but let that go, do some policing.

Look, if we start by running a simple cipher text,

where we replace each letter with the next letter in the alphabet...

Alice! Fancy bumping into you.

You didn't call. You're very rude.

No. but I've been ever so busy. Been undercover.

And I've got a booty like Beyonce's.

No, no, Alice. I've been thinking about you, honestly.

I've written a poem about us.

A proper poem?

Naked,...

We were pure in rapture,

Let me be still in your heart...

It bangs on like that for a bit. I'll tell you the rest later,

but first, I need a favour.

No. There's no sign of them. She must have gone out a back exit.

All is not lost. We could find her with a mono-alphabetic substitution.

We just identify a "key text" to match against...

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

This is a long shot,

but if you apply... frequency analysis

to each letter of the poem,...

you get a message.

Yes? Yes! What?!

DOORBELL

-Where's Oswald?

-He¹s gone away.

-And you're going to tell me where.

-I told you, I don't know.

But Sean phoned me, if that's of any interest.

He wants to come out of hiding.

-I presume you told him to hand himself into the police?

-I asked him if he was still writing.

His renaissance'd be a sensation,

but only if his poetry was up to snuff.

You do know that Oswald has been in on this all along. With Sean.

I suspect they've even been writing together. What do you think?

This whole affair is becoming tiresome.

Just find Sean and Luke, do what you have to do to sort this out

-and let us get on with our lives.

-I could get you ten years for perverting the course of justice.

-Where is Oswald hiding?

-Suffolk. And that's all I know.

Oswald is in Suffolk. Any joy with Powell on CCTV?

Not yet, but she hasn't used her Oyster or credit cards.

That's coincidence or she knows what she¹s doing.

-Has she been in contact with him all along?

-She could've helped plan the escape.

-Maybe she even helped kill Ozil.

-You're being ridiculous!

God, phone companies! Said it'd take three days to process my request!

-We haven't got three days, Gerry.

-Fortunately, Alice has hidden skills.

It took her twenty minutes.

Powell's mobile phone was last registered yesterday at 11.17.

Junction 30 of the A12.

-That's in Suffolk! She's gone to see Oswald.

-Oh, I'm a bloody fool!

Docherty and Oswald are Marlowe and Shakespeare!

I'm looking at the wrong poem.

A lot of people think Marlowe faked his death

and subsequently fed his verse to Shakespeare.

-There's meta-textual reference to the arrangement in As You Like It.

-Brian, get to the point.

Docherty has been alive all this time and giving his work to Oswald.

So all Oswald's poems are actually Docherty's. D'you see?

And that's where Powell got her clue from.

Not from "Rainsong" but from "Liminal Lakes",

-which, when we broke into her house, was open at this page.

-So what did she see?

I'm telling you, they're in a cottage nearby.

There's got to be a thousand cottages in Suffolk.

Yeah, but there's only one that Yeats rented.

Docherty and Powell stayed there once ten years ago.

And it's in his poem!

"A decade dreaming in a giant's bed" -

these are Docherty's words in Oswald's guise.

-Makes all the sense in the world.

-They're the words Powell used to describe their weekend away

at the cottage that Yeats once rented. Yeats is the giant!

You see, the poem's describing where Docherty lives.

It's an autobiographical map if you know they once stayed there.

And this is the clincher - "a white-bricked prisoner

"circled by nature's changing crown".

KNOCK AT DOOR, DOOR OPENS

Where's Sean Docherty?

Did you never hear about the man from Porlock?

The entire poem "Kubla Khan" came to Coleridge in a dream,

but while writing it down, on line 54, he was interrupted by a visitor.

The rest of the poem vanished

-like ripples on the surface of a stream.

-Is there anyone else here with you?

-Nope.

-Have Powell and Docherty been here?

No.

And as you don¹t appear to have a warrant, I have to ask you to leave.

Did you help fake Docherty's death?

This feel a lot like harassment.

- Why don't you answer the question? - I have lots of work to do.

Arrest me or I promise I'll see you tomorrow to answer your questions.

-- Tell us about Gourkan Ozil. - Do I need to call my lawyer?

-We know you're alive, Sean!

-You're starting to look very foolish now.

-We can wait all day.

This is embarrassing.

Yes, you do need to call your lawyer.

It's over, Luke. Don¹t tell them anything. Let me sort this out.

This is my mess. It's right that it's me who pays the price.

I'll come with you.

When did you know?

Not till I read the poem. Brian, I would've told you...

You're not living up to the legend, Sean - rock-star poet,

pursuing the truth - but I'm not getting any sense of that.

Perhaps you're not so brilliant after all.

Maybe that's why you killed Ozil.

You were angry because you couldn't live up to the hype.

It's OK. You don't have to tell us.

Sarah's in the next room, sweating on a conspiracy charge.

-Leave her alone! She's nothing to do with this!

-Then, who is?

You're in a world of trouble, son.

I know.

Tell me from the beginning.

I did it.

I...

killed Gourkan Ozil.

Right, Sean, Luke says that he did it.

He wants you to tell us the truth.

I owed Ozil money.

It was only a few hundred quid, but...

..he was determined to get his flesh.

He'd been following me all day.

-He was enjoying it, you know?

-What happened?

I was frantic.

I ran to Luke's, I thought I¹d be safe there.

But... Ozil smashed his way in and...

- What happened then? - I got home.

I heard Sean... whimpering.

The smell of blood...

He'd tied him to a chair.

He was torturing him.

He was going to kill me. Be under no doubt about that.

So what did Luke do?

Just went for him.

And then?

Got him cold with this punch.

So pure and clean that...

..just killed him.

So after he killed Ozil, they just made the rest up on the hoof?

Pure opportunism.

And Oswald's got famous on Docherty¹s poems.

-Oswald saved his life. I expect Sean was happy with the deal.

-Maybe felt safer being "dead"

-than having half of North London's gangsters after him.

-Anyway,

Oswald is determined to take the fall.

He hated his friend being a fugitive because of what he'd done.

-I'm sure his lawyers will be expensive enough to get him off.

-And sadly Topal's in the clear.

Doesn't matter, does it? We got a result. All's well that ends well.

-Ha! That's Shakespeare, you know.

-I know. I bloody love poetry!

When I went to see Alice, she was ready to give me a right earbashing.

One line of verse and she melted. It's bloody Viagra that stuff!

-Told you.

-Wasted on the likes of you.

# 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 #

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