*CREDITS*
You have one saved message...
..received yesterday at 10.14.
I'm not really calling for anything.
I just hope you're doing OK down there.
Maybe speak later?
Sorry...
I'm sorry.
I recognised you from the papers.
- You're the detective. - No problem.
You're probably off duty, aren't you?
I've been watching that seal, but not in a professional capacity.
I can see you're probably on holiday, and I don't want to intr...
- Anna! - ..but could I...?
You said you wouldn't.
- I know, I couldn't help it. - I came out of the loo
- and you'd just vanished. - I just think I have to try.
- Oh. - Can I ask what this is about?
- I have a case. - Oh...
I don't know if you'd even call it that, but I'd give anything
if you could spare ten minutes just to hear me out.
All right.
Uh...
It's... it's about a woman who went missing a long time ago.
In 1974.
Her name was Margot Bamborough.
On the night she went missing
she was meant to be meeting her friend in the pub,
but she stayed on to see a patient.
- They didn't leave any details. - That's OK.
I'm going to be so late for Oonagh.
- It's horrible out there. - Hmm.
Good night, then.
Night, Dr Bamborough.
It should have been a quick five-minute walk
between the surgery and the pub.
But she was never seen again.
Margot Bamborough was my mother.
I didn't find out about her until I was eight years old.
Are you Anna Phipps?
- Yes. - Is that picture for your mum?
Yes.
Which one is she?
The one in the brown coat.
That's not your mum.
Your real mum was a doctor called Margot.
She got her head cut off.
Darling, what's wrong?
That's not true.
Wait here.
How dare you say that to my child!
After that, my entire world fell apart.
When I asked my dad about my mum,
he said that no-one knew what had happened to her.
He said he'd done what he thought was best.
That I had Cynthia for a mother, and Cynthia loved me,
and that ought to be enough.
Pretty soon, everyone who knew my mum will be dead,
and then I'll never know what happened to her.
The police admit they messed up the case, but they won't reopen it.
I have money.
Well, I know it's probably hopeless,
but I just feel I have to try something.
Will you help me?
Please.
- Hiya. - How's Shifty?
Oh, they've been in there for two whole days.
I've not managed a photo.
Why are the jobs that pay well always so boring?
I've taken on a missing person case.
Missing since 1974.
I'm going to see the client again in Falmouth tomorrow.
I'll drive down.
It's a long way.
I don't mind. I'm already in the Landy.
If I set off now, I could be in Cornwall by... next month?
Next year, if I get a puncture.
Text me the address. I'll see you tomorrow.
Yeah.
How's Joan doing?
Results back today.
OK. Let me know.
Yeah. I'll text you the address. Bye.
What do you think?
We have to see what the doctors say.
Go from there.
Lucy had a look on the internet.
She says they can treat almost anything now.
I can do that.
- I like doing it. - Come on, Joanie.
- You sit down now. - I don't need to sit down!
Well, what they say?
It's all quite straightforward, really.
I have to take some drugs
and then there might be an operation...
..and then that'll be it.
I wish you'd let me come to these things, Joanie.
Don't be silly. There's no need.
Which drugs are they using?
It's all written down.
That's good.
- I'll take a look at the notes. - Oh...
- In your bag? - Oh...
You finished the potatoes!
_
This pie looks good, Ted.
Ah. Thanks.
When's Lucy getting here?
About an hour.
We need to get these potatoes on. Them boys will be hungry.
What are you working on? Or are you sworn to secrecy?
No, I've got a meeting in Falmouth.
From the address I got the Land Registry deeds,
which list the owners. One of them is Anna Phipps.
If you run a search on her,
it turns out her mum went missing in 1974.
This is the main suspect.
Dennis Creed, seven known victims.
He strikes up a conversation, offers them a drink,
but the drink is drugged.
When they wake up, they discover they're in Creed's basement...
Wait.
I think that's Ollie Boreman doing the narration.
He was... He was Lear to my Edmund in Birmingham.
Oh.
Walking in there, you could smell it.
He hadn't hidden things.
We found parts of his victims in the sink,
in the bath, in the fridge.
It's the worst crime scene I've ever visited.
Hands down.
Seven victims identified,
but the police fear there were others who were never found.
October 1974. Dr Margot Bamborough leaves work to meet her friend
for a drink.
A witness sees a struggle between two people,
but nobody intervenes.
A van speeds from the scene.
All the hallmarks of Dennis Creed.
But the Demon of Paradise Park offers no answers.
He guards his secrets, and feeds off the pain he creates
with his silence.
You're investigating a serial killer?
Well, no-one proved Dennis Creed killed Margot Bamborough.
Technically, she's still a missing person.
You got all that from an address in Cornwall?
Mmm.
I had a boyfriend in the late '90s who I would love to track down.
Well, I better get packing. I've got an early start.
- Thanks. - Night.
Hi. It's Matt.
Can you hear me?
Aren't we meant to be communicating through lawyers?
I'm just save you time... and money.
I'm not happy with the settlement agreement.
So tell that to your lawyer.
Yeah, we can do it that way. So long as you realise
I can outspend you in legal fees four times...
Dickhead.
I can't run you round to Falmouth, can I?
I like taking the ferry. Reminds me of when we were kids.
Wooden death-trap!
You'll figure this out, won't you?
You're good at that.
Ready? See you in a bit.
Yeah.
One for the road?
Please don't become an alcoholic on top of everything else.
I can't bear it.
I've spoken to Mum twice a week for 20 years.
She's not our mother.
Leda gave birth to me and she did bugger all else.
Joan and Ted actually wanted us.
This is the only place I've ever called home.
- Well, you live in south London. - God, will you knock it off?
You keep forgetting, I bloody know you.
Running around looking for puzzles to solve,
anything to avoid a real conversation.
Maybe it isn't the same.
I chose Joan, and you chose Leda.
At least I ended up with someone.
Leda didn't love anyone except herself.
Joan thinks you should marry Robin.
Stop it.
Give me one good reason why not.
I'd fuck it up.
I'd lose a friend as well as a business partner.
That's two reasons.
There's a longer list.
I'll see you in a few weeks.
Stick? I love you.
A staff Christmas party
filmed ten months before she disappeared.
This is the last known footage of Dr Margot Bamborough.
Detective Inspector Bill Talbot led the investigation
into her disappearance.
At this point, it's my belief that Dr Bamborough has been abducted.
Her husband, Dr Roy Phipps, is not a suspect.
This has been and continues to be a very difficult time
for Dr Phipps's family.
Their daughter Anna would grow up
never knowing what had happened to her mother.
Cormoran has got his ties here now.
Yeah, but he's not from here, is he?
I'm talking about what's best for them.
Look, I know you love them, but so do we.
And we can actually be here for them.
And that's the difference.
Oh, but you'll be back in a month.
Stop telling me what I'll do.
I said, I'll probably be back.
You can't be that way with children.
Children need certainty.
They're my kids, Joan!
I just love him, Corm.
I need a few days to see if we can make it. OK?
So how's Joan?
It is what it is.
- I've got biscuits. - Thanks. I'm not hungry.
- Shall I talk you through the case? - Yeah.
Here she is.
Mum's the tall one, and that's her friend Oonagh.
Dad probably cleared out her office
and shoved everything into the attic.
He doesn't know I have all this.
I'm sorry if it's all junk,
but it's the only thing I have to offer you.
Please don't approach Dad.
He's very frail now, and things between us are still difficult.
I don't want him to know we're doing this.
Has anyone investigated before, other than the police?
Well, I, tried.
There was a book written by a man called Carl Oakden.
He was the son of someone who worked with Mum.
Maybe I shouldn't have read it, but I did.
It implied Mum was having an affair with her ex-boyfriend.
I found I just couldn't get that out of my head.
The good thing about the book was that there were lots of names
of people who knew Mum.
So I started calling them.
I'd accepted that she was almost certainly dead, but...
..I still wanted to know her.
And did you find out anything new?
I was sent a locket in the post,
anonymously,
with a note attached saying, "I want you to have this."
I showed it to Dad. He went totally white.
Mum was wearing her locket the night she vanished.
The detective who ran the case confirmed that.
This one?
And do you think your mum might have sent it to you?
Oh, I don't know.
No, probably not.
I...
Dad said it wasn't even the same locket.
It just looked similar.
And then he said that I'd encouraged the hoaxers to have
another crack at us, and if I carried on,
then he'd cut me out of his life.
So I stopped.
Who's the detective you spoke to?
Inspector Simon Layborn.
His son George is on the force. He's a mate of ours.
What happened to the locket?
Dad threw it away.
You have to understand this is a very cold case.
The odds are we won't find answers,
and it will cost a lot getting there.
I'd suggest you set a limit on the budget.
That's a good idea.
We'll discuss it and we'll get back to you.
Here's my details.
Psychologist.
Everyone wants to tell me about their mothers.
I suppose that makes you my competition now.
It would help if we had a list of people you are happy for us
to talk to.
We could start with the ones you've contacted.
So what do you think?
Margot's friend Oonagh has an 0-1-9-6-2 area code.
That's Winchester. We can drop in on our way back.
How'd you remember that?
Charlotte.
You've reached Detective Inspector George Layborn.
Please leave a message.
George, it's Cormoran Strike.
I think your old man worked on a case we're looking at.
Give me a call when you can.
Hopefully the Met will have done most of the work already.
They didn't find her, though.
- Hi! Oonagh. - Hello there.
- Sorry it's such short notice. - Don't be sorry.
I've waited years for this. Come on in.
I'm surprised Roy didn't hire someone.
Lord knows he has the money.
Is it Anna that's paying?
- Yes. - Ah. God bless that girl.
What she's gone through... Oh.
You know, I'll be crying my eyes out when I start talking about Margot.
But don't let that be stopping you.
Oh, that was the night cleaners going on strike.
All those girls had terrible pay
and it was dangerous too, walking home on your own.
How was Margot involved?
Oh, anything to do with women's pay or conditions,
she put her neck out.
We grew up poor.
Sometimes a pound in your pocket
was better than all the fancy academic theories.
Oh, she read those too, though.
Yes, she did.
She was clever.
I told you.
Go ahead, darling. Ask your questions.
Maybe you could begin by telling us how you got to know Margot.
OK.
Um...
We... We met in 1966
when we started to work at the club.
- Stop biting your nails. - Sorry. I get nervous.
Men come here to relax.
You are charming.
Attentive.
Relaxed.
Drinks, table six.
Did you see?
Gazelles, not hippos.
Small talk, Margot.
Difficult week, darlin'?
How's about some liver damage to finish you off?
- That's a demerit. - Oh, come on. I was only joking.
Please...
I'm sorry.
You'll earn it back in tips, which will happen,
providing you keep that tongue of yours in check.
No tongues?
Understood.
Dolly, you're next.
Middle-class girls can burn their bras
and stop shaving their legs.
Girls like us did what we had to do.
There was nowhere in London that paid the way that club did.
Paid better than our daddies earned.
And she was studying all the time as well.
Distal, middle, proximal
and then the metacarpals,
and the fractured descriptors
are head, shaft and base.
She lived on sugar.
She did.
And she never put on an ounce either.
Perfect.
The men loved her.
We couldn't date them, though. No.
They sent detectives in to make sure we were behaving ourselves.
If we gave out our phone number, oh, that was it.
But Margot wasn't interested anyway.
Leastways not till she met Paul Satchwell.
He was an artist.
She lost her head over him.
He was her first great love.
Come on, there's something I want to show you.
I bought it at his exhibition.
It's the only painting I ever bought.
I was afraid that someone might see it and tell her parents.
For a long time, I put it away but...
..seeing that it was Satchwell that made it, but...
..that fades, you know?
Now I see Margot, and I'm just glad that I have it.
What didn't you like about Satchwell?
I think he killed her.
She caught him cheating once and...
Heartbroken.
And then she got worried because she'd let him take pictures of her.
Imagine if they'd shown up in some dirty magazine!
Her mammy's brilliant girl doing things like that.
You can't come here whenever you fucking want.
- I want the negatives! - They are not your negatives!
But it's my body.
- It's my art! - Give them back! Now!
- I'm not sure you can afford my work. - Margot...
If you ever show those pictures to anyone,
- if they ever show up in print... - Margot!
..I'll go to the police and tell them all about you.
Open the door now, or I'm calling the police.
Open it!
Don't you ever come near her again.
What's she told you?
- I haven't told her anything. - Then don't ask,
because the day that I find out she's been talking about me,
that's her last day. And yours.
Do you understand me?
Fuck off.
What was he doing?
Well, Margot never said,
but if he took pictures of her,
then maybe he was involved in something like that.
I just don't know.
Anna told us that Satchwell came back into Margot's life
around the time she disappeared.
Is it possible they were seeing each other again?
Well, she wasn't happy with Roy.
Maybe Satchwell reminded her of easier days.
She loved the job, but she wasn't especially close to her colleagues.
More than anything, I think she was feeling lonely.
Roy's not speaking to me.
Satchwell's not the answer to your problems with Roy.
I told Roy I was going to meet him.
- Why? - I don't know.
I just... I wanted him to think about losing me
so that maybe he'd make an effort.
It just made him angry.
- At least he felt something. - Hmm.
How are you feeling, Kevin?
Would you like a lemonade?
He's had four. He'll get a bad tum.
Who's the guy in the shirt?
- Oh, Margot, knock it off. - What are you talking about?
You're a married woman. You need to behave yourself.
Ignore her. She's pissed. I'll get you a glass of water.
I'm just saying.
I know the woman was drunk, but a part of me thought,
"She's not wrong about you, Margot."
I mean, Satchwell was telling her she's more beautiful than ever,
how she's his muse.
And she needed some of that.
It sounds like Satchwell wanted to get back together with her,
not to hurt her.
The day she disappeared, she rang me
and said she wanted to talk about something urgent.
Well, maybe she wanted to tell me his big secret
and he got wind of that,
and decided that he would do what he said he'd do,
make it her last day on Earth.
No chance she ran off with him?
No. She'd never have left Anna.
I pray that you will find her.
I think it's unlikely she's still alive.
No, I know that,
but the dead never really disappear, do they?
Not while they're loved.
The carousel you asked for got delivered.
I put it in your office.
Would a thank you kill you?
Thank you, Pat.
- Robin here yet? - Yeah.
Yeah. She got in before me.
Eager little beaver, that one.
No movement on Shifty yet.
I'm going to try and work his PA.
Keep an eye on your hours.
- Morning. - Hey.
What are you looking at?
I got in touch with Margot's colleague, Dr Gupta.
He's just sent through the footage he shot at the last Christmas party.
He said he'd be happy to meet with us.
- Can you send me that? - It's in the shared folder.
I found Paul Satchwell. He's living on a Greek island.
Shall I drop him a line?
Keep it vague. Don't want him going to ground early.
Mm-hm.
- When are we doing presents? - What presents?
Your partner's birthday yesterday.
The rest of us got her presents.
Ilsa,
I need an idea for Robin.
What does she usually wear?
I've no idea what the name is.
Do you know what kind of scent it is?
Do you mean, what does she smell like?
Could you just recommend something?
Yeah, we could try Carnal Flower.
No.
OK...
Well, this one is popular, and it's really lovely.
- Doesn't that mean...? - In your arms.
Hmm.
Strike's Detective Agency, can I help you?
Happy birthday.
I got you these.
Oh, thank you.
That's nice.
- ..I've not heard anything... - Sorry I'm still in here.
I'm going through all the stuff Anna gave us.
No... I could look for somewhere else,
but everything's open plan now.
Is that a problem?
..Thank you very much.
I need a door between me and Pat.
She's good at her job.
Why did you ask her for that slide projector?
George Layborn's bringing in the original case files.
He said we'd need one. Found anything?
Well, not really.
But the main thing is this.
I found it inside a pharmacy supplies order form.
Someone was threatening to kill her.
"Leave my girl alone, you cunt,
"or I'll send you to hell, slow and painful."
The police never saw this?
"My girl" could be someone's daughter or someone's girlfriend.
Maybe Satchwell had met someone new,
and Margot was trying to warn them off him.
- George. - I've got four big boxes here.
- I could use a bit of extra muscle. - I'll buzz you in.
You all right with that?
Yeah, fine.
Good of you to do this, George.
Doing it for the old man.
He talked a lot about this one.
Felt bad about the way the case was handled.
You know about the lead detective?
- That was your dad, wasn't it? - No.
My dad got put on it after the first guy went crackers.
DI Talbot.
Fair play, he figured out someone was abducting women
around north London, and when Margot Bamborough went missing,
she got put into his investigation.
The sad thing is, he wasn't even the one to put Creed away.
He'd lost it by then, and Dad got almost nothing from Talbot,
so he had to start from scratch.
What happened to all of Talbot's notes?
He wasn't in any kind of condition to answer questions.
Long stay on the psych ward.
What did your dad think happened to Margot Bamborough?
He thought, on balance, it was probably Creed,
but there's no solid evidence, and Creed won't confirm or deny it.
What I will say is, if it wasn't Creed,
it was someone who knew what they were doing.
How's that?
Well, for starters, it's not easy getting rid of a body, right?
They smell, bones get dug up, stuck in drains.
But Dr Bamborough vanished.
A five-minute walk in central London,
not even late night, sober, not stupid.
She's never seen again.
For me, that's an argument against it being Creed.
His flat was full of trophies and body parts from the seven women
that we know he killed. Nothing from Dr Bamborough.
- Fancy a look? - Yeah, why not?
Still recovering from them bloody boxes.
This is called Case Overview And Persons Of Interest.
Margot Bamborough, GP and partner at St John's Medical Practice.
Here we have the staff.
We've got Dorothy Oakden, the secretary.
Janice Beattie, practice nurse.
Dr Margot Bamborough.
Dr Dinesh Gupta.
Dr Joseph Brenner.
Gloria Conti and Irene Hickson, both receptionists.
Gloria Conti sees Margot leaving the office at 6.15,
running late to meet her friend Oonagh Kennedy
in the Three Kings pub.
Oonagh confirm Margot's usually punctual.
Around 6.45, Oonagh calls Margot's home
and speaks to the nanny Cynthia,
who confirms that Margot isn't at home and hasn't called.
Letter A marks where a struggle between two women is seen happening
but these women are later identified as Mrs Fleury
and her elderly mother.
Letter B marks where a witness sees a white van travelling at speed.
Letter C is St John's Medical Practice.
Suspects.
Roy Phipps.
9pm, Margot's husband Roy calls the police.
Now, this is good. Listen to this.
These are notes from your dad's first interview with Roy Phipps.
You told our officers you thought
she might run off with a man named, uh, Paul Satchwell.
Apparently, that wasn't the case.
Why did you think that at the time?
He was an old friend of hers.
I knew he'd been sniffing around.
So you thought she was having an affair?
I said no such thing.
I suggested it was worth checking.
I went over all this with Detective Talbot.
Have you not read his notes?
Now, looking at local files, I can see you experienced
some vandalism around that time.
Car tyres, broken window.
Yobs, that's all.
I won't keep you much longer.
Er...
Your alibi for the night your wife disappeared.
You were ill in bed, and that was confirmed by your child's nanny.
Is that right?
Yes, that's right.
Can you describe your relationship to the nanny?
Employer.
And had your relationship to Anna's nanny ever been more than just...?
Cynthia is 12 years younger than me.
- She's 18. - I have to ask these questions.
She's also my cousin.
Is that a no, for the record?
No.
What?
Roy and Cynthia got married seven years later.
Oh, classic.
He had a weak alibi.
- Is he still alive? - Yes, but he's off limits.
Client's orders.
This guy, Paul Satchwell,
might be the reason Roy Phipps doesn't want to talk about Margot.
He's got an alibi, seen eating in a cafe in Camden at half six.
Several witnesses. I have to say that one sounds solid.
Last patient Margot saw before leaving,
patient gave their name as Theo.
Police put out a big call for them to come forward,
but were unable to trace them.
Finally, this is another patient of Margot's,
double-glazing salesman Steve Douthwaite,
described as a ladies' man.
Visited Dr Bamborough three times in the last week,
believed to have sent her gifts, which he denied.
Friends said he wasn't actually unwell.
People lie about their health all the time, though, don't they?
Here we go.
Steve Douthwaite's medical records, obtained under warrant.
Complained about headaches, upset stomach,
palpitations, trouble sleeping.
Margot noted stress and anxiety.
A couple of cracked ribs as well.
Double-glazing's a tough trade.
This article came out around six days after Margot disappeared.
How'd you do that? It took you about four seconds.
I've got a subscription to a newspaper archive.
The papers date back right to the 1800s.
"Police are anxious to trace the whereabouts of Steve Douthwaite,
"who left his flat shortly after Dr Bamborough was reported missing."
- They find him, though? - Must have done.
They tracked him down in Waltham Forest, by the looks of things.
He's interviewed there in February 1975.
I was looking to move even before the doctor disappeared.
I honestly was.
I've been looking at flats.
Could you tell us which flats you looked at?
We can check them with the letting agents.
I'm... I'm looking in the paper ads.
And you've no alibi for the evening Dr Bamborough went missing?
I can't magic one up, can I?
I was home on my own.
I've been having a shit time, not going out much.
Douthwaite sounds fishy as fuck.
If all of Talbot's notes went missing,
how come this interview's in the files?
I'm guessing it's a local police station transcript.
Dad did his best to get hold of any work related to the case,
but he basically had to start again.
There's more.
Listen to this.
Have you been having any... unusual dreams?
- You what? - Describe your dreams during the period
you knew Margo Bamborough.
When was Talbot taken off the case?
March or April 1975.
But they interviewed Steve Douthwaite twice more.
Suspect analysis concluded no progress possible
without new evidence. Dead end.
I'll try and track him down.
A lot these people are going to be in their 70s or 80s.
Start by searching for death certificates.
It'll save you some time.
Our other suspect is Dennis Creed.
He was caught a year after the slide deck was put together.
He killed at least seven women.
He lived in Paradise Park, Islington, and he was active
during the time of Margo's disappearance.
He's still alive, isn't he?
Do you think we'd be able to talk to him?
Hmm. He'd string you along for fun.
He's never given up anything useful.
Thank you, George.
I remember Anna Phipps coming over to our house to talk to Dad.
She must have made quite an impression.
Yeah, pretty girl.
She had all her questions laid out for Dad, like a pro.
She just couldn't stop crying.
Didn't even remember her mum, still ripped a hole in her life.
Dad would want me to help.
You need anything from me,
you call me, I'll do it.
DI Talbot's details, if you've got them.
Dad didn't just go mad.
He had an overactive thyroid, which wasn't diagnosed
until he was in hospital.
He'd had trouble sleeping as well.
Once he was treated, he improved.
Glad he got better.
We need to improve.
Need to get better at making accommodations,
don't we?
We can't just cast people out when they get sick. Milk? Sugar?
Yes. The more the merrier. Thanks.
Sorry to go on.
A few of the families blamed him
for screwing up the investigation of Creed, and it wasn't like that.
He worked incredibly hard on that case.
I was there. I remember it.
How old were you at the time?
Ten.
I stuffed up my eleven-plus.
Not that it mattered.
This is all to help Anna Phipps?
There won't be articles about him?
I'm happy to put that in writing.
He and mum used to go to church,
and I really think that that...
...influenced his thinking when he became unwell.
He was looking for evil.
When did you realise how unwell he was getting?
He started sprinkling salt...
..outside our bedroom doors.
Me and my brother.
Well, that's what I mean.
He was always a good man.
He thought that he was protecting us and...
Well, look...
..I can show you.
This used to be Dad's study.
He mostly kept it locked.
That's Baphomet.
Hmm.
Mum found him crying in here,
called an ambulance, and that was that.
- Can I...? - Yeah.
- You must have been frightened. - For him.
Yes.
No, I was.
Mum cleared out this room while he was in hospital
and when he came home he never talked about it.
Creed had been caught by then, so it was all over anyway.
They still hadn't found Margot Bamborough, though.
Your father did a lot of work on her case.
Another man redid the work.
Still, I doubt your dad's work was a waste of time.
And I can't imagine a policeman's wife junking his case files.
If any of his work survived,
there's a chance it could still help someone now.
Hmm.
Yes.
I think he would have wanted that.
All I'd ask is, don't judge him.
- I won't. - You'll say that.
Greg, I've had PTSD.
I've woken up, convinced I'm being shot at.
It's not just me. My...
..friend had a panic attack while driving.
Nearly killed us both.
I don't judge her for that.
It's just hard when people think someone you love fell short.
I hope Dad can help you.
Thank you.
- Working late? - A client turned up.
And I couldn't leave him in your office on his own, could I?
No, I couldn't.
I'll be off now, though.
Hey, bro.
How have you been?
God, you are hard to get hold of.
I started thinking to myself, "Now, what would my brother do?
"He'd make an appointment."
I'm happy to pay for it, so don't be pissed.
No charge.
I do have to work, though.
Pat, are you still there?
Would it kill you to walk next door instead of shouting for me?
Could you get hold of a film projector and a screen?
- Please. - Happy to. 16 mil or 8?
Uh...
It's Super 8.
I think she likes you.
Hey, listen...
Dad knows he's made a mess of things.
But you got to understand, when you came along,
his marriage broke up.
The whole scene around the band got super druggie.
What do you want, Al?
They're dropping a new record to mark 50 years
and we're throwing a party.
It'd mean the world if you came.
No.
Anything else?
Maybe give him a chance,
because like it or not, he's our father.
And he's trying to make things right.
Al...
..I like you.
I don't want to fall out...
..but it's a no.
OK.
I love you, bro.
Just... think it over.
_
It looks like Talbot based an entire theory around the zodiac.
Yeah.
I can't stand all that stuff.
What sign are you?
- No idea. - Oh, come on.
Everyone knows this star sign, don't pretend you're above it.
Sagittarius.
Scorpio rising, sun in the first house.
Now, I only know that because my mum was crazy about that shit.
Hmm.
What the hell does sun in the first house mean?
It doesn't mean anything.
Look at this, though.
"The killer is Capricorn.
"Capricorn kills Julie W."
It definitely looks like he had a suspect in mind.
A horned-goat deity.
Try getting one of those to court.
You can be insane and right at the same time.
Hmm.
Sounds like something you'd read on a fridge magnet.
I just don't think we can discount all of Talbot's theories
- just because he got ill. - If you look at his notes,
he clearly thinks it's a single person
killing women in north London.
To be fair, most people do think Dennis Creed killed Margot.
Yeah, but there's no proof.
This is someone with an obsession. It's not good police work.
I don't...
This is the one it needs.
Brilliant. Thanks.
It's £100 deductible if you break it.
Right. Well, I'm not going to break it.
Can't say I didn't warn you.
Could you hit the lights on your way out?
Happy to.
- She's very efficient. - You were efficient.
I didn't want to throw you out the window.
High praise indeed.
Right.
Here we go.
Tenner says it's a home move with Talbot summoning the dead.
Is that Margot?
Cormoran, what is this?
Sorry to drag you back here, but you need to see this.
That's one of the worst things I've ever seen.
Are you sure that's Margot Bamborough?
She's the right height and build.
We'll try and find out if Margot had a scar on her torso.
Husband would know.
Off limits.
Tricky, then.
- What about medical records? - They were in the files.
Nothing about a scar or surgery.
We found this note in Margot's personal papers.
"Leave my girl alone, you...
"..or I'll send you to hell slow and painful."
You missed a word.
And you think that's this threat being carried out?
Looks slow and painful to me.
There's something I want to take another look at.
- Do you mind? - No.
I think I've seen the ring somewhere before.
There.
Oh, shit.
I think it's mostly OK.
- Did you get the picture? - Yeah.
Where have you seen that ring before?
The Christmas party footage Dr Gupta sent you.
Those two men by the door.
Yeah. The image isn't great. The ring's on the same finger.
It's the same size.
Any idea who he is?
No. But they girl they're leaving with is the receptionist,
Gloria Conti.
As far as we know, she's the last person that saw Margot alive.
Obviously, we're going to need to hand this over to the Met,
but that's going to tie our hands.
Can you give us a few days, see what we can dig up for the client?
It's been a half century. A few days won't hurt.
When you do bring it in, it's the first I've heard of it.
Understood.
How are you holding up, Robin?
I don't think I've ever been so angry in my life.
I don't care if it's been half a century or half an hour.
That man has to pay for what he did to her.
*CREDITS*