Lazarus!
No, I-I need you to go to Arlo Jones' room right now
and-and tell me is he there.
Is he alive?
Dr Laz, he's here.
He's in his cell.
My father died on the day of our last session.
The day you said you'd been speaking with God
and God told you I was a fake.
You asked God to punish me.
And God said he would.
He'd do that just for you.
So did he?
Hmm?
Or was it someone more earthly?
My father died from a gunshot wound to the head in his office.
And now I discover you were a patient of his.
You knew where he worked.
Did you have my father murdered, you twisted fuck?
God works in mysterious ways.
How did you know?
How did you fucking know?!
You visited my father before you were arrested.
You told him, "Vengeance is mine."
How could you possibly know that?
Well, perhaps you're not the only one who speaks to God.
I visited your father, yes.
Even managed to draw a little blood before the police interrupted me.
He was a weak man.
Had betrayed my trust.
I told him about my urges, and he told the police.
So am I sad he's dead?
No.
But if you think I can arrange murder
from inside here...
By urges, you mean the ones that led you to violently rape and murder four women?
Your daddy didn't understand me, either.
Like father,
like son.
You don't think I understand you.
Oh...
Oh, I understand you.
Imogen Carswood.
Doctor.
She was in a relationship with my father.
I didn't...
kill her.
I told you that before.
Told everybody.
I didn't kill her.
But of course you didn't listen.
Your DNA was all over the crime scene.
I was framed.
Oh, yeah, right. Sure.
You know as well as I do, Doctor,
Imogen wasn't raped.
And seeing as you know me so well,
you'll have to admit that's a bit of a snag in my so-called pattern.
They couldn't prove my crimes,
so they found a way to put me in prison.
The husband...
lied on the stand.
And she knew it.
Who did?
When the guilty verdict came in,
I looked over at the lead detective.
And do you know what I saw?
She was smiling.
But not the smile of a "job well done."
The smile of someone who got away with it.
I've been tailing you.
I didn't trust you.
And I still don't.
Margot MacIntyre.
Had a look at the wounds, and I'm glad you asked me--
they're pretty special.
Definitely a collector's item.
Rare, that type of weapon.
You ever seen it before?
At first I thought no.
But then I remembered a case involving a particularly nasty London gang.
Carved up this rival like he was a Halloween pumpkin.
Had to wrack me brains to remember when it was, though.
It's just a guess, Mark, but it's probably when you were in London.
Correct.
2016.
That's your weapon.
Quite the bad boy, eh?
Oh, Jesus.
The knife that killed Margot looks like this one.
They're illegally imported from Brazil.
Decent market for them on the dark web.
It's called a Dragon Apex.
Shipment of 400 was seized six months ago off the back of a chicken lorry.
This one came from the evidence locker.
This is good work, Seth.
Don't you think it's odd?
A man dies by suicide,
and then his assistant gets murdered so soon after.
Yes, I do.
Do you have a theory?
I know...
I know with Dr L...
that it was suicide.
But I just...
I just think we need to take another look at that gunshot residue report.
Hey.
Thanks for coming.
To your dead daddy's office to look at old files?
How could a girl resist such a enticing second date?
I was gonna call my sister, but...
- I need your objectivity. - Wow. It gets better and better.
Sorry.
Sorry. I...
I bought cakes.
Oh, now you're talking.
So, here, what is it exactly we're looking for in these files?
Anything out of the ordinary
in Detective Brown's investigations into my father's clients.
Arlo Jones is a vicious killer.
Imogen Carswood was one in a string of his victims.
I said I've been having those thoughts.
You told me it was the right thing to do!
You were the one who encouraged me to go to the police!
I didn't do it.
I never killed Harry. I didn't.
Sorry, Harry? Who's Harry?
Harry Nash.
She lied.
She knew Harry. She worked the case.
The Harry Nash murder.
She told me she'd never heard of the victim.
And the man convicted always claimed he didn't-- H-Hold on.
-[clicks] - Laz.
Alfie, hi.
Um, quick question.
The Father Frank suicide video.
Can you remember who it was given to?
Which-which officer?
Yeah, it was, uh, DCI Brown.
Am I going insane
or is that really suspicious?
Why would she try to conceal it?
And how many more are there?
Police.
We've had reports of some strange psychic activity on the property.
Do you mind if I come in and...
take a look around?
Get in.
What, uh... what are you doing here, anyway?
I've got a client in 15 minutes.
Nothing. Just wanted to see you.
- Oh. - Mm.
Wanted to see you, too.
Fifteen minutes, you said?
Mm.
Ah, it's your brother.
What's he want?
Ah, just ignore him.
Just answer it.
Hi, mate!
So?
I'm gonna make a statement,
and I want you to remember, based on 30 years of friendship,
I wouldn't make this statement unless I really believed it.
I'm all ears.
I think Detective Brown killed my dad.
What, just like Olsen killed your dad?
- Just like Billy killed your dad? - Just listen to me.
All right? Listen.
I think she's framed a number of people for murder.
I think she may have even killed Margot to cover her tracks.
A ghost tell you this, did it, Laz?
- Seth, I'm not joking. - Just fucking wafted in on a spooky breeze
and tells you that my boss is a murderer?
A murderer, Laz.
Are you for real? She's a highly commended cop.
What the fuck are you talking about?
Look, too many of my dad's clients have either ended up dead
or in prison for this to be a coincidence.
Your dad dealt with deeply disturbed people, Laz,
he wasn't running a fucking soft play centre.
Just-just read them.
I'm not entertaining this.
Well, you have to, because your boss is corrupt and needs confronting.
- All right? Read them. - I'm not reading them.
- Just read them! - I'm not fucking reading them!
- I'll lose my job! - Is that all that matters to you?
- Seth. Where are you going? Seth. - This has gone too far, Laz.
Seth!
- Come on. - You know, ever since you got back here,
you've been rattling cages
and trying to dig up shit to make sense of your father's death.
You were seeing ghosts, and now you're seeing cover-ups.
You need help, Laz.
I'm finding her and confronting her with the truth.
No. You'll do no such thing.
We're going back to your house and we're talking to Jenna
and we're gonna get you some help, because this has gone far--
- Oh... - I need help. All right? From you.
From you, my oldest friend, I need you to trust me
and believe me and come with me to confront her!
I can't do that, mate. I'm...
I'm phoning Brown
- and I'm gonna warn her... - No.
...that you're going back there--
- Why'd you become a cop? - Get the fuck off me.
Why did you become a cop?
Laz. I swear to God, Laz--
I'll tell you why.
To right fucking wrong.
To put killers away.
All right? Read the files and tell me I'm wrong.
Okay. Okay.
Interesting location.
Any excuse to get out of the station.
Can I buy you a coffee?
I'm fine.
What's this about?
Seth said you had information regarding your father's death.
Correct.
You were the senior investigating officer on the Cassandra Rhodes case.
What does that have to do with your father's death?
And it was your strong belief that she was murdered by her partner Neil,
- who fled the country. - Correct.
More recently, you led an investigation into the murder of Imogen Carswood,
which resulted in the conviction of Arlo Jones.
I'm failing to see where all this is leading.
A conviction Arlo Jones strenuously opposes.
Arlo Jones the serial killer.
Both were connected to my father.
Arlo a patient, Imogen a lover.
And they weren't the only ones.
Frank, the priest convicted of murdering Harry Nash,
he made a video before his death saying he was innocent,
and that Harry's killer was still at large.
His psychiatrist says he gave that video to you,
and you did nothing with it.
In there, I've found discrepancies,
highly improbable connections, dubious evidence
in murder cases you were investigating.
All of which involved patients of my father
or people known to him.
I don't hear a question.
I think you were using my father's psychiatric practice,
seeking out people with troubled backgrounds
and using them as scapegoats for your crimes.
I think my father found out.
Confronted you about it.
So you killed him.
I see.
Well, that's quite the fantasy you've concocted.
And you're on board with this?
Definitely like to hear your side of the story.
And then what? Arrest me?
I don't need to remind you, I'm your senior officer.
Yep. I know that.
And this impromptu confrontation is wildly inappropriate.
Can you get me a glass of water, please?
I loved your father very much, Joel.
And a glass of water, please.
Lemon drizzle cake? Reminds me of my grandma.
She made better lemon drizzle than anyone on this Earth, bar none.
- You ain't tried mine yet, mate. - Mm.
Seth!
Police! I'm calling backup.
Seth. You okay?
Call the police!
She is the police.
Just call the fucking police!
What can I do? How can I help?
- Just get her. - All right. Look after him.
Shit.
Hey.
You okay?
Someone's gonna come and take a statement, so just...
just stick to the facts.
You suspected her, you brought your suspicions to me...
...then she Tasered me.
Thanks, mate.
I still don't understand any of this.
Makes no fucking sense at all.
But...
I am sorry I doubted you.
Still think you need to talk to someone, though, Laz.
All this?
It's a lot, mate.
I'm sorry I've brought so much shit into your life since coming back.
No, you haven't.
Well, you have.
It has been nice having you back, though.
And I connected with your hot sister, so...
...every cloud, eh?
Just...
...just take care of her, yeah, if you two...
become a thing.
- Yeah. - Don't want to have to come back
- and get all heavy with you. - Hmm.
Well, I reckon I could take you.
As long as you don't bring your imaginary friends as backup.
Or a Taser.
You're funny.
You've finally got funny.
Yeah.
That's why your sister likes me so much.
See you, mate.
Joel, don't push it.
I don't want to have to use this.
Believe me, it'll destroy you.
Let it go.
I can spare you so much pain if you just stop now.
I can't do that.
Please, please, just... just go home.
Let this go.
I can't.
Hello.
Hi.
I know it's a bit strange, but...
I just wanted to talk to you.
About my dad.
Joel Lazarus.
I know you're...
close.
It's Aidan, right?
He's... [clears throat] ...talked about you.
Is it a bad time?
No. Uh, no. Come on in.
I don't like talking about myself.
Ah, you and me both.
A lot of people find it uncomfortable.
It's not that. It's just...
I don't trust people.
But I've told people things before,
but they just... they didn't keep them secret.
Well, I promise you,
whatever you say in here will stay between us.
Cross my heart and hope to die.
Alison.
We need to talk.
I know.
I know what you did.
What we did.
I've been so stupid.
In psychology, we call guilt "the useless emotion."
Remorse shows our humanity, but guilt becomes toxic.
- It eats away at us. - So, you don't feel guilt?
None whatsoever.
For years, I thought you were helping me close cases.
Telling me we were playing the system
because these people deserve to be in prison...
- They do. - Says who?
The great psychiatrist?
Let's not get melodramatic.
You reaped the rewards, Alison--
the accolades, the acclaim--
you were always very ambitious in that regard.
It always struck me as strange,
giving awards for police work, it's almost uncouth.
I thought you were my friend.
But you manipulated me
and I let my ego get in the way.
You killed Imogen.
Don't even deny it, I know you did.
And then you made me believe it was Arlo Jones.
I loved Imogen.
And she was sick, she was dying.
She was terrified of it.
So you-so you strangled her?
I put an end to her suffering.
Is that what you tell yourself?
There are times for some people, Alison, when staying, lingering in the world,
is infinitely more painful than leaving it.
And the others?
What about the others?
Father Frank Barnway left a recording before he killed himself,
claiming his innocence in the murder of Harry Nash.
There were signs, I should have seen them,
but I was so caught up...
You've been giving me information, over the years, to deflect from yourself.
It, uh...
Alison, you have no idea.
Some of the clients
that come through my office are deeply traumatized people
with deeply troubled lives.
They're like a broken vase.
You can glue it back together, and from a distance,
it may look normal, but up close, you will always see the cracks.
Rationalise it any way you want.
You murdered them, Jonathan.
And then you got me to convict innocent people for your crimes.
So you think...
...w-what?
We confess?
We've both seen those prisons, Alison.
Twenty-two hours a day in a cell, being prodded and poked...
we wouldn't last two minutes.
And you, a corrupt cop,
you'd be ruined.
I can't just let it go.
You understand that, don't you?
I do.
You're not built that way.
So what are you proposing, Alison?
We could take a different route.
You could write a note.
Say goodbye.
End your... How did you put it?
Pain? Lingering?
And then your secret...
...dies with you.
That's a route that favours you rather more than me.
Those cracks in the vase.
The ones you got when Sutton died.
They could never be repaired, could they?
How can you be sure I won't use this on you?
You've been a good friend, Alison.
Through the bad times...
...you've always been there.
Do you think I'll see Sutton?
I hope so.
Do you?
I don't know.
But at least I won't miss her anymore.
There is that.
I wish there was another way.
But there isn't, is there?
I'd like to be alone.
I'll wait outside.
Goodbye.
And... thank you.
Knowing you...
has been a pleasure.
You've reached Doctor Joel Lazarus.
Please leave a message after the tone.
I'm sorry that you had to hear all that.
But you know I record everything that happens in this room.
She murdered me.
She gave me no choice.
You killed...
I freed them from their pain.
And I freed everyone else from the danger of them.
You met Cassandra.
She killed him in my office.
Of course I couldn't leave a dead body lying in my office,
so I helped her move him, but what was the likelihood
of someone like that keeping a secret?
Or not killing again?
So she was my first.
And Harry?
Do you know what he'd do, if he knew we were even talking?
The damage had been done. Coming forward made it worse.
The truth, son, will not always set you free.
I've spent my whole life trying to understand this.
And m-most people have empathy,
m-morality, some sense of right and wrong, however twisted.
And then, there are the others,
who are beyond repair.
The wiring is too far gone.
What-what, what happened
to "don't let them feel abandoned, not for a moment"?
I didn't abandon them, I saved them.
God, self-justifying crap.
You-you killed because you wanted to kill.
You got a taste for it.
Possibly.
But why? W-Why...
Why, Dad, why?
After Sutton, something closed in me.
I saw things differently.
You murdered people.
God, we...
God, we-we know what it's like, don't we?
I-I mean, we-we know.
I had my own pain!
I had lost a child.
In the worst possible way.
But I never stopped loving you.
E-Either of you.
And that last day, the-the only person I wanted to speak to was you.
What would you have said?
Well...
I'd have tried...
I'd have tried to make you understand that whatever I'd become,
you're my son, and I've always loved you.
I just wanted my dad back.
That's all I've ever wanted.
That drawing
on my suicide note.
Do you know what that symbol means to me?
Time isn't linear, it's cyclical.
Sons become their fathers, Joel.
It's in their blood.
- No. - History is destined to repeat itself
unless we break the pattern.
No, Dad.
You were ill.
I have spent my whole life trying to be like you...
...but not anymore.
Not anymore.
Then let me go.
Break the pattern.
Goodbye, son.
Bye, Dad.
♪ Like a circle in a spiral ♪
♪ Like a wheel within a wheel ♪
♪ Never ending or beginning ♪
♪ On an ever-spinning reel ♪
♪ Like a snowball down a mountain ♪
♪ Or a carnival balloon ♪
♪ Like a carousel that's turning ♪
♪ Running rings around the moon ♪
♪ Like a clock whose hands are sweeping ♪
♪ Past the minutes of its face ♪
♪ And the world is like an apple ♪
♪ Whirling silently in space ♪
♪ Like the circles that you find ♪
♪ In the windmills of your mind ♪
♪ Like a tunnel that you follow ♪
♪ To a tunnel of its own ♪
♪ Down a hollow to a cavern ♪
♪ Where the sun has never shone ♪
♪ Like a door that keeps revolving ♪
♪ In a half-forgotten dream ♪
♪ Or the ripples from a pebble ♪
- ♪ Someone tosses ♪ - It's over.
♪ In a stream ♪
♪ Like a clock whose hands are sweeping ♪
♪ Past the minutes of its face ♪
♪ And the world is like an apple ♪
♪ Whirling silently in space ♪
♪ Like the circles that you find ♪
♪ In the windmills of your mind ♪
Hi, this is Laura. Please leave a message
and I'll get back to you.
Hi, Laura. It's-it's me.
I really want to see you.
I-I...
I look into his dead face.
There's-there's blood gushing from his head
where I hit him and I stare at him on the ground and I feel
n-nothing.
Not happiness,
not relief, just nothing.
You told me it was the right thing to do!
You were the one who encouraged me to go to the police.
Well, I said I wasn't ready!
God came to me,
and he says, would I mind
exacting His punishment for Him?
And I said, "Only too happy."
You know I record everything that happens in this room.
Sorry, Dad.
Sorry, do you have a moment?
Sons become their fathers, Joel.
It's in their blood.
Laura?
I'm sorry.
♪ Keys that jingle in your pocket ♪
♪ Words that jangle in your head ♪
♪ Why did summer go so quickly? ♪
♪ Was it something that you said? ♪
♪ Lovers walk along the shore ♪
♪ And leave their footprints in the sand ♪
♪ When you knew that it was over ♪
♪ You were suddenly aware ♪
♪ That the autumn leaves were turning ♪
♪ To the colour of her hair ♪